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THE Origins
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 Peter Schafer

The Origins of Jewish Mysticism

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72004 Peter Schifer

The Origins of
Jewish Mysticism

Princeton University Press

Princeton and Oxford
 Professor of Reli-
Peter Schafer is the Ronald O. Perelman Professor of Jewish Studies and
of His Beauty:
gion at Princeton University. His books include Jesus in the Talmud and Mirror
the Bible to the Early Kabbalah (both Princeton) . He received a
Feminine Images of God from
Distinguished Achievement Award from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation in 2007.

Theology Library
CLAREMONT
SCHOOL OF THEOLOGY |
Claremont, CA

Copyright © 2009 by Mohr Siebeck, Tiibingen, Germany

Original cloth edition published by Mohr Siebeck in 2009
First paperback printing by Princeton University Press in 2011
Paperback published by Princeton University Press, 41 William Street, Princeton, New Jersey
08540
In the United Kingdom: Princeton University Press, 6 Oxford Street, Woodstock, Oxfordshire
OX20 1TW
press.princeton.edu
All Rights Reserved
Cover illustration: Ezekiel, Vision of Shekinah. Detail of historiated initial and surrounding
text from an English Bible, ca. 1270s. Robert Garret Collection of Medieval and Renaissance
Manuscripts No. 28. Courtesy of Manuscripts Division, Department of Rare Books and Special
Collections, Princeton University Library.
LibraryofCongress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Schafer, Peter, 1943—
The origins of Jewish mysticism/Peter Schafer.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-691-14215-9 (pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Mysticism—Judaism—History. 2. Bible. O.T. Ezekiel—Criticism, interpretation, etc.
3. Ethiopic book of Enoch. 4. Mysticism in rabbinical literature. 5. Merkava. I. Title.
BM526.S2825 2009
296.7'12—de22 2009015049
British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available
Typeset by Martin Fischer in Tiibingen, Germany
Printed on acid-free paper. 00
Printed in the United States of America
10987654321
Margarete Schliiter

In memoriam
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 ‘Contents

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ere APU LLES Gir TCMESEE IVEY SERCESIND og 8 ccs. co cain as 0.4.0) vodnes cisndscasttes 23

Chapter 1. Ezekiel’s Vision: The Cosmos as Temple............. 34

Chapter 2. Enoch and His Circle: Ascent to Heaven ............. 53

ine ook of the Wateners (1 Enoch 1-36) ..0....06
206500 ss waeiwet 53
ORICULIGE ETB 99h Seg 0 Oe 67
piminiies Of. nocd Cl Pioch: 37-1) )a4 a6 a6 fv sek oeacmens ovieay ot Sle 72
CAE ARO Mes ee aN pal eal op ea oaSi in Tans aks air. Seg os re)

Chapter 3. Enoch’s Companions: From the Community

ta ICmLMRET
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Premeal ese G7 cpngtiditns: 1h A5 2502s tcoe te Peta ae ce ees: 99
CeoVEE) Sy5Pe CCN C0)NTOsie 8 re ae ha re aU tare 103
VIII Contents

Chapter 4. Qumran: Communion with the Angels .............-. 112

A. Community of Priests... (5... "Snins's 0-44 datey hy oie bes een ere 113
Communion with the Angels in the Holy War .........-- .-0+-2+005: 116
Liturgical Communion with the Angels .........--. 6
+00 ee eee eens 1072
The Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice .......... eee dee ecee eee eee 130
.--
The Self-Gloriiication Hymn 4.42.4 2.05 oop lee elon ee ae ae 146
Serrhiak ick «sg ioe. ch acdv4) he Bin 0 ac ate alga ene ae 151

G@hapter 5.,Philo: The Ascent of the Soul.......+.+7--«:-eneeene 154

Philo’s: Concept of God’...% Sa.5.» o's melee tein sel o ahe se eae) eee 155
Body and Soul, Senses. and Mind. ...5.....25.00006+-2<0.22 meee 160
The Soul's Visiomot Gods io. os on.5/24 wena cca ware ooo eee 164

Chapter 6. The Rabbis I: Approaching God through Exegesis ..... £75

Reading and Expounding the Toralt.2. 4. ¢2.a5 «eae< <2. oe ee ee 176
‘Ehe-Cycle. of Sever StOriest «cin< 5. ¢ sctu ns a ee ear 185
1. Yohanan b. Zakkai and Eleazar b. Arakh: Teacher and Student ..... 186
2. Chain of Transmissionin Ok. 5 Sains ese ek 2s i 195
3. Four Entered a Gardeng? ax. csiiees 3 eet © Janell ecleaen ee 196
4: Parable-of the Kingis Garden 2s paso dac.ce Ae <n ee 203
5. Parablevof the Middle: Conrses aac A. ato? ache boa eee eee 206
62Ben Zoma and Creation, 2. 03. . ds sim wae. ae ieee a 207
ds Creation S45 2 Tata: Pt Sete ae eee eee ee eee 209
SUMmMary ics Tht Ghat es heh eee see 210

Chapter 7. The Rabbis II: The Merkavah in Context ............. 214

Verushalm ?PG erase ieekee: nrc sa ae te er 214
Bayi « ft. ois ateante ocala taale geGin at hte on theee 222

Chapter 8.;The: Merkaval Mystics .. 0),. 4560.10

3 eee 243
Hekhalot Rabbati j.4... cess vtcsae cod aod tae 244
[The Gedullah Hymns) ..0ca0e y= 022 een 245
i. Lhe Qedushah Hymns)... -c10).see renin ae 254
3;, FheTen’ Martyrs: Narrative: . =. anes 90) ee a 256
4) The Apocalypses 2.2.0: #0 ace past)
 Contents IX

3. Qedushall Hymns and Hymns of Praise... 20... ..... 08 c ccna 259

ee iran OE RC COUNES er ime age Ok eis elo baste wie 268
SERGE SLED Wg INE ee ph eA eR RI aire ne a 282
Pr) oes eA SCONE NOCOUMIS . cca ss ee ech Gs ds sac weenie es 283
Sug epee eee CES Ts aa Sa oo 294
3. §§ 407-427: The Test of the Mystic and His Ascent ............. 298
4. §§ 489-495: The Book of the Mysteries of the Divine Names ..... 304
Soo aeeohy: be Magic of the Name... 6... seme ce ee ees 305
LET Se TUE ae ein tae 0 ae elelles et te diet rare 306
Oo SETSea a peg at ae eee ak eS a emer? 315
GRO Me Sea Ue, Soa LAr bien. A wus Spogeateas 316
eR CPE ERIE REIE ME kage fo EN 8 sig il sy aca phe aie aintchicun afotas 318
PRMD WA d etic S ot in, dice Uacurdco shais as ton fin Tavaraigiais eae PSE 324

cafSo olldaaT7ld (VS SM Aliens agente tage aia era am neaeni te IParar 331
Ereiaeland the Ascem Apocalypses'.iv.c es... ss ee ee eee nea ee 331
Pie pc oraninty Sorrel? Sak ATR SAR. OGY SO JES EE 339
ICMP ee ie etn ee tle a eae ss oe es in se oe as 348
|VEER So cen reciee ya uel egy ae ete
ageal adnan i-aiy PeE aeaaE N 350
PIES 2 Age Sly els ks Ge an ne el peg aie AN rire ne oe aie eee eee 352
REN ap ait =.« Pim lens enw) oun gS Abies iol cprclagestow yetin’G 353

PG ORIMNY He ee rte ew eee ie ett sees ees 357

NN mE S Ne tet Me ete ainsi ccna o wrehiry ee nia arg SystFo 373
‘GysrieallTASS SS oe SS SO tone Od anibicer sO oleena oho Sea aero 391
 Acknowledgments

This is a book that I have been working on for several years. I started the actual
writing in 2002-2003, during my sabbatical at the Historisches Kolleg in Mu-
nich, but when I returned to Princeton, more pressing issues came to the fore.
Among other things, I was captivated by the subject of the relationship between
Judaism and the emerging Christianity in the first centuries CE and couldn’t stop
thinking about what finally became my book, Jesus in the Talmud (published in
2007 by Princeton University Press). I kept working on the mysticism manu-
script, but it wasn’t until my next sabbatical at the Wissenschaftskolleg/ Institute
for Advanced Study at Berlin in 2007-2008 that I found the congenial atmo-
sphere that enabled me to finish the book.
This book in a way summarizes my views on early Jewish mysticism. I spent
many years working on this subject, mainly on what is generally called the first
full-fledged manifestation of Jewish mysticism, Merkavah mysticism. In recent
years, however, the question of what happened before Merkavah mysticism has
become ever more acute. We speak about the Kabbalah, a phenomenon emerg-
ing in twelfth-century Europe, as the epitome of Jewish mysticism, and we re-
gard Merkavah mysticism as some earlier form of Jewish mysticism that, to
be sure, does not fall under the category of Kabbalah proper — but what, then,
about the period before Merkavah mysticism? Can we rightfully and sensibly
speak of Jewish mysticism as a uniform and coherent phenomenon that started
some time in antiquity (in the Hebrew Bible, even?) and that later developed into
what would become Merkavah mysticism and ultimately the Kabbalah? Many
scholars have dealt with Merkavah mysticism and its ramifications for classical
rabbinic Judaism — in fact, this field has become one of the most vibrant areas of
Jewish studies in the past thirty years — as well as with the origins of the Kab-
balah in the Book Bahir, but very few have paid full attention to the evidence of
the Hebrew Bible, the apocalyptic literature, Qumran, and Philo. It is this gap be-
tween the Hebrew Bible and Merkavah mysticism that the present book wishes
to address in a systematic and reflective manner.
I have to thank many friends and colleagues who accompanied me on my long
way up to this juncture. Martin Hengel has never stopped encouraging me and
giving me his wise counsel. My Princeton colleague Martha Himmelfarb took
the trouble of reading the entire manuscript and sharing with me her extraordi-
nary knowledge of the apocalyptic and Qumranic literature. Another Princeton
XII Acknowledgments

colleague, Simeon Chavel, gave me a critical reading of the chapter on Ezekiel

and patiently answered my questions. My former student Maren Niehoff, now
at Hebrew University, was kind enough to read the chapter on Philo and to offer
her critique. My former student Ra‘anan Boustan (Abusch), now at UCLA, drew
my attention to some important literature. The readers who evaluated the manu-
script for the publisher gave me invaluable advice. I am particularly grateful to
the reader who graciously revealed his identity, my esteemed colleague Philip
Alexander; although we disagree on certain issues (a fact of which I make no
secret in my book), he not only subjected the manuscript to a meticulous reading
but offered the most generous and constructive critique, a treatment an author
can only dream of. I have taken many of his suggestions to heart, and I hope he
will forgive me when occasionally I have stubbornly insisted on my viewpoint.
Ultimately he may well be right in his judgment that we are much closer to each
other than it appears.
I thank Kevin McAllen, the Wissenschaftskolleg’s ingenious English-lan-
guage editor, for style editing the entire manuscript. We spent many hours dis-
cussing the minutiae and mysteries of the English language, and he sometimes
even generously accepted when I refused to follow his suggestion. Baru Saul, my
irreplaceable assistant, patiently and efficiently took part in all the various stages
of the manuscript preparation. Marjorie Pannell carefully and perceptively copy
edited the entire manuscript. Baru Saul and Maria denBoer kindly prepared the
Source Index and the General Index respectively.
It is with deep sadness and sorrow that I dedicate this book to Margarete
Schliiter, who passed away on November 2, 2008, at the age of sixty-one. Mar-
garete Schliiter was my very first Ph.D. student, served many years as my col-
league at the Berlin Institute of Jewish Studies, and became the successor of my
teacher Arnold Goldberg at the University of Frankfurt. She was a dedicated
teacher and scholar who devoted her life to the development and consolidation
of Jewish studies in Germany. Tehe nafshah tzerurah bi-tzror ha-hayyim.
 Abbreviations

Abr. De Abrahamo
ad loc. ad locum
Adv. haer. Adversus haereses
AHDL Archives @histoire doctrinale et littéraire du moyen age
Ant. Antiquitates

b Babylonian Talmud (Talmud Bavli)

b. ben (“son of”)
Bar. Baruch
BCE before the Christian Era
BJRL Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, University Library Manchester

Cant. Canticum Canticorum (Song of Songs)

CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CBR Currents in Biblical Research
CE Christian Era
cH chapter
chs. chapters
Cher. De Cherubim
Chron. Chronicles
Conf. De Confusione Linguarum
Cong. De Congressu Eruditionis Gratia
col. column
cols. columns
Cor. Letter to the Corinthians

Dan. Daniel
Deut. Deuteronomy
DSD Dead Sea Discoveries

Eccl. Ecclesiastes
Ebr. De Ebrietate
En. Enoch
De = Exodus
Ezek. Ezekiel

FJB Frankfurter Judaistische Beitrage

fol. folio
Fug. De Fuga et Inventione
XIV Abbreviations

Gal. Letter to the Galatians

Gen. Genesis
Gig. De Gigantibus
GRBS Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies

Hab. Habakkuk
Heb. Letter to the Hebrews
fier Quis Rerum Divinarum Heres Sit
Hos. Hosea
HTR Harvard Theological Review
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual

Isa. Isaiah

JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society

JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
Jer. Jeremiah
Jewish History
JIS Journal of Jewish Studies
Jos. Joshua
JPS Jewish Publication Society
JQR Jewish Quarterly Review
JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism
JSQ Jewish Studies Quarterly

line
Leg. All. Legum Allegoriarum
Lev. Leviticus
Lk. Luke
LXX Septuagint

m Mishna
Macc. Maccabees
Mal. Malachi
MGWJ Monatsschrift fiir die Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums
Mig. De Migratione Abrahami
Mk. Mark
Mos. De Vita Mosis
Ms. Manuscript
Mss. Manuscripts
Mt. Matthew
Mut. Nom. De Mutatione Nominum

n. note
nn. notes
Nah. Nahum
NRSV New Revised Standard Version
Num. Numbers
 Abbreviations XV

Op. Mund. De Opificio Mundi

OTP The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha

Phil. Letter to the Philippians

Plant. De Plantatione
Post. De Posteritate Caini
Praem. De Praemiis et Poenis
Prov. Proverbs
Rs Psalms

Q.E. Quaestiones et Solutiones in Exodum

Qs Qiryat Sefer
Quod Deus Quod Deus Immutabilis Sit

R. Rabbi
RdQ Revue de Qumran
Rev. Revelation
RSV Revised Standard Version

Sac. De Sacrificiis Abelis et Caini

Sam. Samuel
Sap. Sal. Sapientia Salomonis
SBL.SPS Society of Biblical Literature, Seminar Paper Series
Sir. Jesus Sirach
Som. De Somniis
Spec. Leg. De Specialibus Legibus

t Tosefta
ThZ Theologische Zeitschrift
Ey Targum Jonathan

V. verse
vv. verses
VT Vetus Testamentum

y Jerusalem Talmud (Talmud Yerushalmi)

Zech. Zechariah
 Introduction

A book with the provocative title The Origins ofJewish Mysticism requires some
comment on the terminology used. I will begin with the term “mysticism” in
general, then discuss the implications of the modifier “Jewish” — the phases of
Jewish mysticism and the viability of the notorious concept of mystical union
(unio mystica) — continue with remarks on the quest for the “origins” of Jewish
mysticism, and conclude by elaborating the principles that will guide me through
my inquiry and outlining the book’s structure.

Mysticism

Any attempt to define mysticism in a way that allows the definition to be gen-
erally accepted is hopeless. There is no such thing as a universally recognized
definition of mysticism, just as there is no such thing as a universally recog-
nized phenomenon of mysticism or notion of mystical experience. In fact, there
are almost as many definitions of the term as there are authors — if the authors
even bother to define the object of their study at all. Mystical experiences dif-
fer greatly from culture to culture; the particular cultural and religious conven-
tions within which a “mystic” lives make his or her mystical experience cultur-
ally specific. This becomes immediately clear from the very use of the words
“mysticism” or “mystic,” which derive from the Greek root myein, meaning “to
shut the eyes”; accordingly, the mystikos is someone who shuts his or her eyes
in order to shut out the mundane world and experience other realities. Hence
the derivative myed, “to initiate into the mysteries,” and more frequently the
passive myeomai, “to be initiated.” More specifically, the mystés is the one who
is initiated into the Greek mystery cults and who participates in secret rituals
that dramatize certain myths (such as the mystery cult at Eleusis, as early as the
seventh century BCE). The mystikos or the mystés, therefore, is connected to the
“mysteries” of these mystery cults; that is, the word acquires also the coloration
of secrecy and privacy.
No one today would claim that this very specific meaning of initiation into
mystery cults prevailed as a common denominator in all or even many later
manifestations of mysticism — although, to be sure, the notion of “secrecy” and
“mystery” remained an important aspect of what might be dubbed “mysticism.”
2 Introduction

Hence, despite its explicit connection with ancient mystery cults, “mysticism”
is, in modern scholarly terminology, not an emic but an etic term, that is, a term
that was not actually used by the people who practiced mysticism (clearly not in
antiquity) but was invented by modern scholars in order to define and classify
certain religious experiences. In this respect, “mysticism” is akin to that other
notoriously problematic term, “magic” — a term that some scholars want to ex-
orcize from the politically correct scholarly vocabulary.!
Nevertheless, if we look at certain definitions of mysticism in handbooks of
religion or in popular dictionaries, we encounter some striking common fea-
tures.2 Take, for example, the following definitions in the German Brockhaus
Enzyklopddie and in the British Oxford English Dictionary. The Brockhaus runs
as follows:
Mysticism [the original Greek myeomai translates as “to be initiated,” literally “to
have one’s eyes and mouth closed”], a structural form of religious experience and life
in which the unio mystica — an intrinsically experienced unification (Einung) of the
human self with the divine reality — is achieved.

! See, e.g., Philip Alexander, “Response,” in Peter Schafer and Joseph Dan, eds., Gershom
Scholem’s Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism: 50 Years After (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul
Siebeck], 1993), p. 82; Marvin W. Meyer and Richard Smith, eds., Ancient Christian Magic:
Coptic Texts of Ritual Power (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1994), pp. 4ff. On the problems
resulting from such an approach, see Henk S. Versnel, “Some Reflections on the Relationship
Magic-Religion,” Numen 37 (1991), pp. 177-197, and Yuval Harari’s recent attempt to go
beyond a pragmatic use of the category “magic” (see his “What Is a Magical Text? Methodo-
logical Reflections Aimed at Redefining Early Jewish Magic,” in Shaul Shaked, ed., Officina
magica: Essays on the Practice of Magic in Antiquity [Leiden: Brill, 2005], pp. 91-124). Using
the notion of “family resemblance” and resorting to the “partial resemblance” of certain phe-
nomena, he tries to avoid any essentialist or substantialist definition of “magic” (as opposed
to “religion”). I wonder, however, how sentences such as “The density of the web of partial
resemblance ties is what determines whether they are definitely[!] more or less magical or
religious. ... The web of partial resemblance creates a fabric, varying in its density, in which
religious and magic phenomena |[!] are tied together” (ibid., p. 115) avoid relapsing into the es-
sentialist mode.
? It is by no means my goal here to attempt an even approximate account of the major defi-
nitions suggested by historians of religion; I merely give some examples that I find instructive.
For further information, see, e. g., the “classic” contributions by William James, The Varieties
of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature (London: Longman, Green), 1902 (esp.
pp. 366 ff.); Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Man’s
Spiritual Consciousness, 12th ed. (London: Methuen, 1930, repr. 1967 [first published 1911]);
Rufus M. Jones, Studies in Mystical Religion (London: Macmillan, 1909, repr. 1923); idem,
New Studies in Mystical Religion (London: Macmillan, 1927); Emily Herman, The Meaning
and Value of Mysticism (London: Clark, 1922); Louis Dupré, “Mysticism,” in Mircea Eliade,
ed., The Encyclopedia of Religion, vol. 10 (London: Collier Macmillan, 1987), pp. 245-261.
> Brockhaus Enzyklopéidie in Zwanzig Banden, vol. 13 (Wiesbaden: F.A. Brockhaus, 1971),
p. 141. The German version reads: “Mystik [zu grch. myeomai ‘eingeweiht werden’; eigentl.
‘sich Augen und Mund schlieBen lassen’], eine Strukturform relig. Erlebens und Lebens, in der
die unio mystica — die wesenhaft erfahrene Einung des menschl. Selbst mit der géttl. Wirklich-
keit — erreicht wird.”
 Introduction 3

This definition limns mysticism as an essential structure of religious life in which

the unio mystica is attained, the unification of the human self with divine reality;
that is, mysticism is a particular variety of religion having as its most prominent
characteristic the unio mystica.4
The Oxford English Dictionary is more comprehensive but likewise empha-
sizes the mystical union of man and God. Here, the term “mysticism” captures
[t]he opinions, mental tendencies, or habits of thought and feeling, characteristic of
mystics; mystical doctrines or spirit; belief in the possibility of union with the Divine
nature by means of ecstatic contemplation; reliance on spiritual intuition or exalted
feeling as the means of acquiring knowledge of mysteries inaccessible to intellectual
apprehension.>
The first sentence is not very helpful because the “opinions” and so forth of
“mystics” or “mystical doctrines or spirit” only shift the problem from “mysti-
cism” to “mystics” or “mystical”: what then, pray tell, are “mystics,” and what
is “mystical”? Then comes the major characteristic, the “union with the Divine
nature,” obviously avoiding the word “God” and preferring instead the vague
“Divine nature” and adding some important qualifications: ecstatic contempla-
tion, exalted feeling, acquiring knowledge of mysteries as opposed to intellec-
tual apprehension. “Ecstasy,” “feeling,” and “knowledge” are characteristics
that play an important part in most definitions of mysticism. But it cannot be
stressed enough: the ultimate goal according to this definition is the union of
man with God. Some scholars even go so far as to boldly proclaim, “That we
bear the image of God is the starting-point, one might almost say the postulate,
of all Mysticism. The complete union of the soul with God is the goal of all
Mysticism.”*®
There is, however, one problem with this definition. Whether or not it fits a
religion such as Judaism we will see, but what about religions that do not presup-
pose the existence of a transcendent God and the human soul, that is, religions

4 Interestingly enough, this definition has become much less assertive — and loses the unio
mystica — in the more recent nineteenth Brockhaus edition of 1991 (vol. 15, p. 268): “Mysticism
[the original Latin mysticus translates as “mysterious,” from the Greek mystikos], ... a multi-
level phenomenon that is difficult to pin down and which in its various cultural manifestations
is common to all religions. Mysticism designates the direct experience of a divine reality that
transcends everyday consciousness and rational perception.”
> The Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd ed., prepared by J.A. Simpson and E.S.C. Weiner,
vol. 10 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989), p. 176.
© William Ralph Inge, Christian Mysticism: Considered in Eight Lectures Delivered before
the University of Oxford (London: Methuen, 1899, Appendix A), p. 339 (my emphasis in ital-
ics). Scholem refers to this appendix in his Major Trends (below, n. 10), p. 4, without giving
the precise bibliographical details. Unfortunately, the appendix has disappeared in later editions
of Inge’s book, and one frustrated reader added (on p. 333 of the 1956 edition) the handwritten
note, “What [expletive] happened to the famous Appendix?” On the concept of the mystical
union in general, see Ileana Marcoulesco, “Mystical Union,” in Mircea Eliade, ed., The Ency-
clopedia of Religion, vol. 10 (London: Collier Macmillan, 1987), pp. 239-245.
4 Introduction

that are not based on the Hebrew Bible with its notion of human beings “in the
image and likeness of God”? Hindu and Buddhist mysticism, for example, sug-
gest that the world and nature are illusions and that the deepest and truest “unity”
is achieved when awareness of the self and its connection with the world is an-
nihilated, thus interrupting the fatal cycle of reincarnation. This kind of mysti-
cism is called “acosmic” or “world-negating.” Other religious systems prefer the
mystical experience of a unity or oneness with nature instead of God, following
the pantheistic idea that nature constitutes the Absolute behind and beyond all
reality: God is everywhere and in everything, a notion that obviously challenges
the concept of a personal God. A prominent example of a Christian mystic who
expressed a pantheistic view of the oneness of nature and man’s unity with na-
ture is Meister Eckhart (1260—before 1328): “All that a man has here externally
in multiplicity is intrinsically One. Here all blades of grass, wood and stone, all
things are One. This is the deepest depth.’”
Here mysticism is not the union or rather unity with the Absolute, let alone a
personal God, but the awareness of the inherent unity of all beings. God is part
of this unity because he is part of nature and nature is a part of God. The idea
of a personal God as the goal of the mystic has become so remote that Meister
Eckhart was suspected of being a pantheist and heretic, denying the essential
difference between God and his creation.®
An outstanding example of mystical union with nature, a kind of “secular
mysticism,” is the famous poem Tintern Abbey, by William Wordsworth (1770—
1850), that celebrated representative of the “romantic revolt” in England:
[...] For I have learned
To look on Nature not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh, nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joyces
Of elevated thoughts, a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean, and the living air,
And the blue sky, and the mind of man —

7 Quoted in Rudolf Otto, Mysticism East and West: A Comparative Analysis

of the Nature of
Mysticism, trans. Bertha L. Bracey and Richenda C. Payne (New York:
Macmillan, 1932 [repr.
1957, Meridian Books, New York]), p. 61.
® The archbishop of Cologne accused him of heresy, and in 1329 Pope
John XXII declared
some of Eckhart’s propositions heretical and others suspicious of
heresy. See Otto Karrer and
Herma Piesch, eds., Meister Eckeharts Rechtfertigungsschrift vom
Jahre 1326: Einleitungen,
Ubersetzung und Anmerkungen (Erfurt: Kurt Stenger, 1927); G.
Théry, “Edition Critique des
Piéces Relatives au Procés d’Eckhart Contenues dans le Manuscri
t 33° de la Bibliothéque de
Soest,” AHDL 1 (1926-1927), pp. 129-268.
 Introduction 5

A motion and a spirit that impels

All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things.?
In view of these difficulties — not only of those emerging from Eastern reli-
gions — modern scholars tend to suggest more nuanced definitions of mysticism.
As my two prime examples I have chosen Gershom Scholem, the founding fa-
ther of the academic discipline of Jewish mysticism, and Bernard McGinn, the
eminent expert on Christian mysticism. In the introductory chapter of his Major
Trends in Jewish Mysticism (first published in 1941), which bears the optimistic
title “General Characteristics of Jewish Mysticism,” Scholem asks, almost de-
spairingly: “[W]hat is Jewish mysticism? What precisely is meant by this term?
Is there such a thing, and if so, what distinguishes it from other kinds of mysti-
cal experience?”!° To answer this question he first summarizes what we know
about mysticism in general. He begins by praising “the brilliant books written on
this subject by Evelyn Underhill!! and Dr. Rufus Jones” and by quoting Jones’s
definition of mysticism in his Studies in Mystical Religion: “I shall use the word
mysticism to express the type of religion which puts the emphasis on immedi-
ate awareness of relation with God, on direct and intimate consciousness of
the Divine Presence. It is religion in its most acute, intense and living stage.”'?
Then Scholem moves back to what he calls Thomas Aquinas’s brief definition
of mysticism as cognitio Dei experimentalis — a knowledge of God through
experience.'* The latter in particular, he argues, is guided by the biblical verse
Psalms 34:9: “Oh taste and see that the Lord is good.” The tasting and seeing of
God is what “the genuine mystic desires ... determined by the fundamental ex-

® William Wordsworth, “Tintern Abbey,” in The Pedlar. Tintern Abbey. The Two-Part Pre-
lude, ed. with a critical introduction and notes by Jonathan Wordsworth (Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 1985), pp. 37f., 1. 89-103.
'0 Gershom Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York: Schocken, 1974
[repr.]), p. 3.
1! See above, n. 2.
2 Jones, Studies in Mystical Religion, p. XV (Jones’s emphasis).
3 Scholem quotes Aquinas according to Engelbert Krebs, Grundfragen der kirchlichen
Mystik dogmatisch erértert und ftir das Leben gewertet (Freiburg: Herder, 1921), p. 37. Ap-
parently Scholem did not bother to check the original context of the quotation from Thomas,
because there (Summa theologiae II.2, quaestio 97, art. 2 arg. 2) it belongs to the question as to
whether or not it is a sin to tempt God, and has nothing to do with mysticism. In his refutation
of the premise that “it is not a sin to tempt God,” Thomas distinguishes between two kinds of
knowledge of God’s goodness (bonitas) or will (voluntas), one speculative (speculativa) and the
other affective or experiential (affectiva seu experimentalis). It is through the latter knowledge
that a human being “experiences in himself the taste of God’s sweetness (gustum divinae dul-
cedinis) and complacency in God’s will (complacentiam divinae voluntatis),” and it is only in
this affective-experiential way that we are allowed, according to Aquinas, to prove God’s will
and taste his sweetness. In quoting Aquinas, Krebs focuses solely on the experience of God’s
goodness or sweetness and completely suppresses the connection with God’s will.
6 Introduction

perience of the inner self which enters into immediate contact with God or the
metaphysical Reality.”"
Both definitions serve Scholem, however, in rejecting two of their major pre-
suppositions. The first is the notion of unio mystica, the mystical union of the
individual with God. This term, he posits, “has no particular significance” in
mysticism in general and in Jewish mysticism in particular: “Numerous mystics,
Jews as well as non-Jews, have by no means represented the essence of their
ecstatic experience, the tremendous uprush and soaring of the soul to its highest
plane, as a union with God.”!» He briefly refers to the very different experiences
of what he labels the earliest Jewish mystics of talmudic times (in his terminol-
ogy, the “old Jewish Gnostics”) and the latest offshoot of Jewish mysticism, the
Hasidim of Eastern Europe, and concludes: “And yet it is the same experience
which both are trying to express in different ways.”
The second rather useless presupposition, according to Scholem, is the as-
sumption that “the whole of what we call mysticism is identical with that per-
sonal experience which is realized in the state of ecstasy or ecstatic meditation.
Mysticism, as an historical phenomenon, comprises much more than this experi-
ence, which lies at its root.” So, although within certain strands of mysticism we
do find mystical union and ecstasy — the two most cherished elements of many
modern definitions of at least Jewish, Christian, and Islamic mysticism — they
are useless as parameters in defining both mysticism and Jewish mysticism alike.
What remains is mysticism as a historical phenomenon, to be described and
analyzed within the framework of other religious phenomena and in different
and changing historical contexts: “The point I should like to make,” Scholem
concludes, “is this — that there is no such thing as mysticism in the abstract, that
is to say, a phenomenon or experience which has no particular relation to other
religious phenomena. There is no mysticism as such, there is only the mysti-
cism of a particular religious system, Christian, Islamic, Jewish Mysticism and
so on.”!7 Definitions, in the end, prove to be futile.
Finally, in Scholem’s view, there is still yet another danger lurking in the all-
too-sweeping definitions of mysticism: they confuse religion with mysticism and

'4 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 4.

'S Tbid., p. 5. It is therefore simply wrong to maintain, as Elliot Wolfson does, that “the
mystical experience, according to Scholem, involves a direct and intimate consciousness of the
divine Presence that, in the most extreme cases, eventuates in union with God” and that “from
Scholem’s own standpoint the vast majority of Jewish mystical sources fall somewhat short
of the ideal that he himself set up, which involves unitive experience” (Elliot Wolfson, “Mys-
ticism and the Poetic-Liturgical Compositions from Qumran: A Response to Bilhah Nitzan,”
JOR 85 [1994], p. 191). Scholem set up no such ideal but stated explicitly and unequivocally
that the term wnio mystica “has no particular significance” for many mystics, “Jews as well as
non-Jews.” ;
'© Scholem, Major Trends, p. 5.
7 Tbid., pp. Sf.
 Introduction 7

conclude that “a// religion in the last resort is based on mysticism,” a mistake
for which he quotes Rufus Jones’s definition as a prime example that he does
not want to repeat.'* Instead he favors an evolutionary model of religion in three
stages, of which only the third and last stage witnesses the birth of mysticism.
The first stage is that of a naive harmony between man, universe, and God and
where there is no need for ecstatic meditation. The second stage may be called
the classical stage in the history of a religion, in which religion becomes insti-
tutionalized and is characterized by a vast abyss between God and man. Yet it is
at this stage — “more widely removed than any other period from mysticism and
all that it implies”!? — that mysticism is born. Borrowing a turn of phrase from
Nietzsche,”° it is the birth of mysticism out of the spirit of the institutionalized
and classical form of religion, a form and period of religion, moreover, that may
be labeled romantic.*! At this stage, all religious concepts (above all the ideas
of creation, revelation, and redemption) “are given new and different meanings
reflecting the characteristic feature of mystical experience, the direct contact be-
tween the individual and God.”””
_ If we now turn to McGinn’s definition of mysticism, we discover a number
of important points of agreement with Scholem, but also points of agreement
with other, more general definitions that Scholem ultimately rejects. McGinn
aims at a broad and flexible definition of mysticism and discusses it under three
headings in the “General Introduction” to his monumental The Foundations of
Mysticism:
1. Mysticism is always a part or element of religion. All mystics believed in
and practiced a religion (Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism), not “mysti-
cism”; that is, mysticism is a subset of religion, part of a wider historical whole.
Even when it reaches a level of explicit formulation and awareness, it remains
inseparable from the larger whole, never becoming independent of religion.
2. Mysticism is a process or way of life. The goal of the mystic (whatever this
is) shall not and cannot be isolated from the life of the individual. The individual
is part of a community, and this relationship between individual and community
also needs to be determined in any proper evaluation of the individual’s mysti-
cism.
3. Mysticism is an attempt to express a direct or immediate consciousness of
the presence of God. This is the most important part of McGinn’s definition. He
is very careful in his choice of words, in particular “consciousness” and “pres-
18 Tbid., pp. 6f. (my emphasis).
9 Thid., p. 7.
20 Friedrich Nietzsche, Die Geburt der Tragddie aus dem Geiste der Musik (Leipzig: E. W.
Fritzsch, 1872).
21 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 7.
2 Ibid., p. 9.
23 Bernard McGinn, The Foundations of Mysticism, vol. 1: The Presence of God: A History
of Western Christian Mysticism (London: SCM Press, 1992), pp. XI ff.
8 Introduction

ence.” “Presence” is a deliberate substitute for “union,” a word that McGinn

finds rather problematic:
If we define mysticism in this sense [as some form of union with God], there are ac-
tually so few mystics in the history of Christianity that one wonders why Christians
used the qualifier “mystical” so often (from the late second century on) and eventu-
ally created the term “mysticism” (first in French, “la mystique”) in the seventeenth
century.”4
Because “union” might not be the most suitable category for an understanding
of mysticism and because there were several, perhaps even many, understand-
ings of union with God, McGinn suggests expanding the notion of union and
finds the
term “presence” a more central and more useful category for grasping the unifying note
in the varieties of Christian mysticism. ... From this perspective, it comes as no surprise
that union is only one of the hosts of models, metaphors, or symbols that mystics have
employed in their accounts. Many have used it, but few have restricted themselves to
it. Among the other major mystical categories are those of contemplation and the vi-
sion of God, deification, the birth of the Word in the soul, ecstasy, even perhaps radical
obedience to the present divine will. All of these can be conceived of as different but
complementary ways of presenting the consciousness of direct presence.”°

The other term in the third part of his definition, “consciousness,” is a deliberate
substitute for “experience,” a word that he finds imprecise and ambiguous:
The term mystical experience, consciously or unconsciously, also tends to place em-
phasis on special altered states — visions, locutions, rapture, and the like — which ad-
mittedly have played a large part in mysticism but which many mystics have insisted
do not constitute the essence of the encounter with God. Many of the greatest Christian
mystics [...] have been downright hostile to such experiences, emphasizing rather the
new level of awareness, the special and heightened consciousness involving both lov-
ing and knowing that is given in the mystical meeting.*°
From these quotations we can easily see that McGinn and Scholem2’ agree most
with regard to what is summarized under (1): mysticism as part of a concrete
historical religion. Also (2) would certainly find Scholem’s approval (although
he does not dwell on this particular aspect when discussing the problem of defi-

24 Tbid., p. XVI.
5 Tbid., p. XVII.
6 Ibid., pp. XVIIf.
*7 Interestingly enough, the recent definition of mysticism by Philip Alexander, a Jewish
studies scholar, comes very close to that of McGinn. Alexander suggests that the following
three characteristics are shared by most concrete mystical traditions (Mystical Texts: Songs of
the Sabbath Sacrifice and Related Manuscripts {London: T. & T. Clark International, 2006],
p. 8): (1) mysticism arises from the religious experience of a transcendent divine presence;
(2) the mystic enters a close relationship with this divine presence that can be described in the-
Saas a ere F Ans ; $.
istic systems as “communion” and in pantheistic systems as “union”; and (3) mysticism always
requires a via mystica.
 Introduction 9

nition). As for (3), however, this is more complicated. Scholem and McGinn
share the reluctance of granting the notions of unio mystica and personal ex-
perience too much sway in any definition of mysticism, but I do not think that
Scholem would approve of McGinn’s substitute, the consciousness of direct
divine presence. For this comes surprisingly close to Jones’s definition (“direct
and intimate consciousness of the Divine Presence”), which Scholem rejects as
too general because it blurs the distinction between “religion” and “mysticism.”
But Scholem has made things a bit too easy for himself by failing to suggest an
alternative and instead contenting himself with the emphatic statement: “I, for
one, do not intend to employ a terminology [such as used by Jones] which ob-
scures the very real differences [between “religion” and “mysticism”] that are
recognized by all, and thereby makes it even more difficult to get at the root of
the problem.”?®

Jewish Mysticism

“Jewish mysticism” is obviously a subset of “mysticism,” and it will be useful

to continue with Scholem and to see how he delineates the former within the
framework of the latter. The main bone of contention seems to be the nature of
that “fundamental experience” encountered by the mystic in his relationship with
the divine, in particular whether it can or cannot be subsumed under the category
of “mystical union.” Before we go into such detail, however, it is necessary to
examine first how Scholem (and his successors) define and describe Jewish mys-
ticism historically, that is, as a historical manifestation within the larger context
of the Jewish religion.”?

1. Phases of Jewish Mysticism

Since, according to Scholem, mysticism arises out of the classical stage of a

given religion, it will come as no surprise that for him, Jewish mysticism begins
with the talmudic period and continues, with many variations, up to the present
day. At least this is what he asserts in his introductory chapter, “General Char-
acteristics of Jewish Mysticism.”2° In the second chapter of Major Trends, the
chapter dealing with Merkavah mysticism (the first full-fledged system of Jewish
mysticism), he is more generous and grants the first phase of Jewish mysticism

28 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 7.

29 Fora useful overview, see Philip S. Alexander, “Mysticism,” in Martin Goodman, ed., The
Oxford Handbook of Jewish Studies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), pp. 705-732.
talmudic
30 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 18: The uninterrupted mystical chain leads from the
Aqiva to the “late Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, the religious leader of the Jewish
hero Rabbi
community in Palestine and a splendid type of Jewish mystic.”
10 Introduction

its beginnings in the first century BCE, thus clearly predating the talmudic peri-
od.3! He opens this chapter with the programmatic statement:
The first phase in the development of Jewish mysticism before its crystallization in the
mediaeval Kabbalah is also the longest. Its literary remains are traceable over a period
of almost a thousand years, from the first century B.C. to the tenth A. D., and some of
its important records have survived.*”

Here we learn in two sentences many important (and some problematic) things.
First, there are several phases of Jewish mysticism that are bound together by
the term “mysticism.” The first of these phases is Merkavah mysticism, that
peculiar mystical movement that, as we will soon discover in greater detail, re-
volves around the divine throne in heaven. This is clear enough and can hardly
be contested. Second, Scholem distinguishes between “Jewish mysticism” and
“Kabbalah”: Jewish mysticism begins in antiquity, but it somehow “crystallizes”
in what is called “Kabbalah” in the Middle Ages. “Kabbalah” seems to be the
epitome of Jewish mysticism, but Scholem does not bother to explain why the
manifestation of mysticism before the Kabbalah is just “mysticism” and mysti-
cism’s medieval strand “Kabbalah” proper — yet he nevertheless calls his book
Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism. When in 1962 he published a book in Ger-
man titled Ursprung und Anfdnge der Kabbala,** he took for granted that dis-
tinction between “Jewish mysticism” and “Kabbalah.”*4
Third, and most important for our purpose, the boundaries in both directions
(forward and backward in time) of the first phase of Jewish mysticism are less
obvious. Whereas Scholem’s strategy for extending the first phase into the tenth
century is clearly an attempt to narrow the gap between his first and second
phases, Merkavah mysticism and Hasidism in medieval Germany (approxi-
mately 1150-1250 cg), he remains remarkably vague with regard to the begin-
ning of the first phase. Although he has declared that the first phase, Merkavah
mysticism, begins in the first century BCE, he is reluctant to put it into its full
historical context. “It is not my intention here,” he states at the outset,

3! Whether the first century BCE belongs to the “classical” period of Judaism is another
issue, but it is certainly part of the “institutionalized” form of the Jewish religion — the other
characteristic of Scholem’s definition of the “romantic period” out of which Jewish mysticism
emerged.
32 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 40.
*3 Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1962. English translation Origins of the Kabbalah, ed. R.J.
Zwi Werblowsky, trans. Allan Arkush (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society; Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press, 1987).
** The first sentence of the first chapter reads: “The question of the origin and early stages
of the Kabbalah, that form of Jewish mysticism and theosophy that appears to have emerged
suddenly in the thirteenth century, is indisputably one of the most difficult in the history of the
Jewish religion after the destruction of the Second Temple” (Origins, p. 3). At least we get the
additional information here that the Kabbalah would appear to have emerged “suddenly” out
of the common ground of Jewish mysticism.
 Introduction 11

to follow the movement [of Merkavah mysticism] through its various stages, from its
early beginnings in the period of the Second Temple to its gradual decline and disap-
pearance. ... I do not, therefore, intend to give much space to hypotheses concerning
the origins of Jewish mysticism and its relation to Graeco-Oriental syncretism, fascinat-
ing though the subject be. Nor am I going to deal with the many pseudepigraphic and
apocalyptic works such as the Ethiopic book of Enoch and the Fourth Book of Ezra,
which undoubtedly contain elements of Jewish mystical religion. Their influence on the
subsequent development of Jewish mysticism cannot be overlooked, but in the main
I shall confine myself to the analysis of writings to which little attention has hitherto
been given in the literature on Jewish religious history.*°
Despite this restrained attitude toward the earlier manifestations of Jewish mysti-
cism before the appearance of Merkavah mysticism in the technical sense of the
term, Scholem is convinced that “subterranean but effective, and occasionally
still traceable, connections exist between these later [Merkavah] mystics and
the groups which produced a large proportion of the pseudepigrapha and apoca-
lypses of the first century before and after Christ”** and that “the main subjects
of the later Merkabah mysticism already occupy a central position in this oldest
esoteric literature, best represented by the book of Enoch.’ So he ultimately
(and boldly) concludes that we can actually delineate three stages of Merkavah
mysticism, that first phase of Jewish mysticism, namely
1. “the anonymous conventicles of the old apocalyptics”;
2. “the Merkabah speculation of the mishnaic teachers who are known to us
by name”; and
3. “the merkabah mysticism of late and post-Talmudic times, as reflected in
the literature which has come down to us [Hekhalot literature].”°8

Unfortunately, Scholem not only eschews any substantial treatment of the “apo-
calyptic stage” of Merkavah mysticism — let alone that he does not make an at-
tempt to prove the historical connection between the alleged Merkavah specula-
tions of the “old apocalyptics” and the Mishnah teachers of rabbinic Judaism or
the Merkavah mystics presented in the Hekhalot literature — in his description he
leaves his second stage almost completely out, his chapter on Merkavah mysti-
cism drawing solely on the Hekhalot literature (although he was convinced, and
became ever more so in his later writings, that the heroes of Hekhalot litera-
ture — most prominent among them R. Ishmael and R. Aqiva — were identical

35 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 40.

36 Tbid., p. 42.
37 Thid., p. 43.
38 [bid. On Scholem’s approach, see also the very useful summary by Martha Himmelfarb,
“Merkavah Mysticism since Scholem: Rachel Elior’s 7)he Three Temples,” in Peter Schafer, ed.,
Wege Mystischer Gotteserfahrung: Judentum, Christentum und Islam/ Mystical Approaches to
God: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (Munich: Oldenbourg, 2006), pp. 19-22.
12 Introduction

with the famous rabbis as we know them from the rabbinic literature).*? So all
that in fact remains of Scholem’s three stages of the first phase is just the third
and last stage.
This result is highly unsatisfactory, and scholars after Scholem have tried to
fill the gaps. Whereas the second gap (the “rabbinic stage” of Merkavah mys-
ticism) was effectively eliminated by David Halperin in his thorough analyses
of the rabbinic Merkavah texts*? — although, to be sure, other scholars are still
convinced of a close relationship between the Merkavah speculations of the rab-
bis and the Merkavah mysticism of the Hekhalot literature*! — the first gap (the
“apocalyptic stage” of Merkavah mysticism, as Scholem defines it, and the rela-
tionship between the apocalypses and Hekhalot literature) was perceived more
constructively and filled in with ever more details. Ithamar Gruenwald wanted
to establish, along the lines of Scholem’s taxonomy, an unbroken continuity
between the early apocalypses and the Hekhalot literature,’ but Martha Him-
melfarb cautioned against too naive an approach with regard to these two after
all very different bodies of literature.*? Most recently, Andrei Orlov, focusing
on the Enoch-Metatron traditions, reopened the question and tried to resuscitate
Scholem’s approach despite its acknowledged shortcomings, which, he holds,
were responsible for the shift in modern research from the apocalypses to the
Hekhalot literature.* He accuses Halperin, me, and others of throwing out the
baby with the bathwater and, in our predilection for the rabbinic and Merkavah
mystical manifestations of early Jewish mysticism, not only of ignoring the ear-
lier phases but even of blocking access to them:
Despite the significant advance that the investigations of Schafer, Halperin, and other
opponents of Scholem’s position brought to a better understanding of the conceptual
world of the rabbinic and Hekhalot mystical developments, their works, in my judg-

*° Scholem, Major Trends, pp. 42 f. (despite his somewhat twisted reservations there).
4“ The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature (New Haven, CT: American Oriental Society,
1980); see also his The Faces of the Chariot: Early Jewish Responses to Ezekiel’s Vision (Ti-
bingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1988).
‘! See, e.g., Elliot R. Wolfson, Through a Speculum That Shines: Vision and Imagination
in Medieval Jewish Mysticism (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994), pp. 121 ff.;
April D. DeConick, “What Is Early Jewish and Christian Mysticism?” in eadem, ed., Paradise
Now: Essays on Early Jewish and Christian Mysticism (Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Lit-
erature, 2006), pp. 3 f.
* Ithamar Gruenwald, Apocalyptic and Merkavah Mysticism (Leiden: Brill, 1980).
‘3 Martha Himmelfarb, “Heavenly Ascent and the Relationship of the Apocalypses and the
Hekhalot Literature,” HUCA 59 (1988), pp. 73-100.
“* Andrei A. Orlov, The Enoch-Metatron Tradition (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), p. 3:
Scholem’s inability to demonstrate textually the persistent presence of the matrix of early
Jewish mysticism in the pseudepigraphic literature would later lead his critics to concentrate
their studies mainly either on the rabbinic ma ‘aseh merkavah accounts or on the Hekhalot
writings and to regard these literary evidences as the first systematic presentations of early
Jewish mysticism.
 Introduction i

ment, affected negatively the study of the premishnaic Jewish mystical testimonies.
Their writings shifted the whole notion of early Jewish mysticism towards the rabbinic
and Hekhalot documents and separated it from the early mystical evidence of Second
Temple Judaism. The criticisms of Scholem’s hypothesis have led to the refocusing of
priorities in the study of early Jewish mysticism. The main focus of research has been
transferred from pseudepigraphic evidence to the rabbinic ma ‘aseh merkavah and the
Hekhalot writings in an attempt to show their conceptual independence from the early
apocalyptic materials. The view that the Hekhalot tradition possesses its own set(s)
of concepts and imagery, different from the conceptualities of the early apocalyptic
mystical testimonies, should not however lead one to ignore the association of these
texts with early Jewish mysticism. It is apparent that, despite its importance, the body
of Hekhalot literature cannot serve as the ultimate yardstick for measuring all early
Jewish mystical traditions.*°
Much as I agree with Orlov’s last sentence, I am at a loss with regard to his main
critique. True, research on the Hekhalot literature and Merkavah mysticism has
made some progress over the last twenty-five years or so, but I, for one, did not
embark on a study of the Hekhalot literature in order to prove Scholem wrong
and to demonstrate that the concepts and imagery of the Hekhalot traditions were
distinct from those of the apocalypses (when I started my work on the Hekhalot
manuscripts I couldn’t have cared less about the apocalyptic literature). No
doubt, publication of the Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur has triggered an ava-
lanche of publications on Merkavah mysticism,*° but I do not think that this has
much to do with Scholem’s failure to make a good case for his first stage of the
first phase of Jewish mysticism.
Moreover, and even more important, it soon became clear that the gap in
Scholem’s presentation of the three stages of Merkavah mysticism was even
larger than Scholem could have known when he wrote his Major Trends: still
undiscovered were the Dead Sea Scrolls, which contain a number of texts — in
particular the Hodayot (Thanksgiving Scroll) and the text that is now labeled
Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice — that, as scholars immediately observed, bear a
striking resemblance to the Hekhalot literature. Although he later became aware

45 Ibid., pp. 5f. See also James R. Davila, “The Ancient Jewish Apocalypses and the
that in his
Hekhalot Literature,” in DeConick, Paradise Now, pp. 105-125. Davila concludes
and the an-
view, “a genetic relationship of some sort[!] between the descenders to the chariot
traditions and practitioner s seems likely” (p. 123). Although he acknowledg es
cient Enochic
to the chariot” (namely, “Babylonia in the fifth
the very late social context for the “descenders
the case of the Enochic
to the seventh centuries CE”), he nevertheless believes that “at least in
[between the earlier Enoch traditions and Enoch-Metatron in the
literature, a historical link
Hekhalot literature] does seem plausible” (p. 124).
found in Ra‘anan S.
46 A very useful summary of the present state of scholarship can be
Between Mystical Experienc e and Textual Arti-
Boustan, “The Study of Heikhalot Literature:
fact,” CBR 6 (2007), pp. 130-160.
14 Introduction

* Con-
of these connections,‘” Scholem never took up the subject systematically.*
(prerabb inic
spicuously, it is this gap (the Dead Sea Scrolls) within the first gap
apocalyptic literature) that has occupied scholars far more as a potential precur-
sor of Merkavah mysticism than have the apocalypses.
The most ambitious attempt not only to fill the gaps in Scholem’s taxonomy
of early Jewish mysticism but also to give a comprehensive picture of Scholem’s
first phase, including the Dead Sea Scrolls and related literature, has been made
by Rachel Elior. In a series of articles and in her book, The Three Temples: On
the Emergence of Jewish Mysticism,” Elior programmatically claims to have
taken up the legacy left by Scholem in his few remarks, thanks in large part to
the publication of most of the Qumran library and our greater knowledge of the
context of the writings preserved in this library.°° It is hardly my intention here
to give a full summary of her arguments — a difficult task, to be sure, not only
because of the richness of the material but also because she often repeats and
sometimes even contradicts herself — but the following observations seem to me
important:*!
1. Elior does not just deal with the Qumran literature (both the sectarian and
nonsectarian works preserved in the Qumran library) but sees much of the Qum-
ranic and related literature (including, in particular, the Enochic literature) as the
reservoir from which the full picture of pre-Hekhalot mysticism emerges.
2. Like Scholem, she reconstructs three stages of early Jewish mysticism,
but these stages are different from Scholem’s, namely (1) Ezekiel’s vision of
the Merkavah in Ezek. 1; (2) the literature of the “deposed priests” of the Sec-

47 Gershom Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, Merkabah Mysticism, and Talmudic Tradition

(New York: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1960, 1965), pp. 3f., 29, 128.
48 Not surprisingly, as Himmelfarb reminds us (“Merkavah Mysticism since Scholem,”
p. 22): the editio princeps of all the fragments of the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice appeared
in 1985, three years after Scholem’s death.
49 Rachel Elior, The Three Temples: On the Emergence of Jewish Mysticism (Oxford: Litt-
man Library of Jewish Civilization, 2004 [originally published in Hebrew, 2002, Magnes, Je-
rusalem]). Of the many articles (which often give a preview of what is said in the book or sum-
marize the book’s results) I mention only “From Earthly Temple to Heavenly Shrines: Prayer
and Sacred Song in the Hekhalot Literature and Its Relation to Temple Traditions,” JSO 4
(1997), pp. 217-267; “The Merkavah Tradition and the Emergence of Jewish Mysticism: From
Temple to Merkavah, from Hekhal to Hekhalot, from Priestly Opposition to Gazing upon the
Merkavah,” in Aharon Oppenheimer, ed., Sino-Judaica: Jews and Chinese in Historical Dia-
logue (Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University, 1999), pp. 101-158; and “The Foundations of Early Jewish
Mysticism: The Lost Calendar and the Transformed Heavenly Chariot,” in Schafer, Wege my-
stischer Gotteserfahrung, pp. 1-18. And see already Crispin H.T. Fletcher-Louis, All the Glory
of Adam: Liturgical Anthropology in the Dead Sea Scrolls (Leiden: Brill, 2002), pp. 252 ff., the
publication of which coincided with publication of the Hebrew edition of Elior’s book.
°° In “Foundations,” p. 2, she explicitly connects herself with Scholem’s brief remark in
Jewish Gnosticism, p. 128, that refers to the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice.
5! T refrain from giving full references in each case. For a thorough analysis of her work
and a devastating critique of most of her major theses, see Himmel farb, “Merkavah Mysticism
since Scholem.”
 Introduction 15

ond Temple who were forced to leave the defiled sanctuary and took refuge in
Qumran, that is, the Qumran library in the fullest sense of the word; and (3) the
Hekhalot literature.>?
3. All these three stages are characterized by three absent Temples (hence the
title of her book) and all the three literatures preserved in these three stages are
the product of priestly circles (yes, also the Hekhalot literature).*?
4. The Qumran library is not (or at least only to a certain degree) the library
of the Qumran sectarians but “originated in the Temple library that was created
and guarded for centuries by priests and prophets and was taken by the deposited
priests when they were forced to leave the defiled sanctuary.”
5. Elior is not particularly forthcoming with regard to how she defines “mys-
ticism,” although, as Himmelfarb has observed, “‘a definition is implicit in her
work and could be extracted with proper care.”*> In her 2006 article she gives
the following definition: “Mysticism in the present context refers to literary tra-
ditions which assume the everlasting existence of transcendental heavenly coun-
terparts of the ritual world of the Temple and the Levitical priesthood.”°° What
she does not say in her brief definition but is clearly included is the presupposi-
tion that this “mysticism” constitutes itself in a peculiar relationship between the
heavenly ritual of the angels and the ritual world of the earthly priests (priestly
angels and angelic priests performing an angelic liturgy in a heavenly sanctuary
that has replaced the destroyed or defiled Temple on earth).

Elior’s taxonomy of early Jewish mysticism and her definition of this “mysti-
cism” are quite surprising, to say the least, and we will see whether or not they
are based on a fair picture of the evidence (however, I have serious doubts as to
whether Scholem would have agreed with them). But they are, of course, in line
with her main thesis, that early Jewish mysticism developed out of the priestly
traditions that were collected in the Temple library and preserved in Qumran.
Yet this is precisely the question that looms large with her schema and definition,

52 Bzekiel does not serve as a separate stage in Scholem’s taxonomy (although his vision is
mys-
clearly also for Scholem the starting point of everything that would come later in Jewish
first
ticism), whereas Scholem’s second stage (the rabbis) has disappeared in Elior. Scholem’s
second stage correspond (with the omission of Qumran in Scholem), as do
stage and Elior’s
both their third stages.
Mysti-
53 In “Foundations,” pp. 17 f., she reduces the schema to just “two chapters of Jewish
traditions centered on Enoch and the priestly library that
cism in late antiquity,” namely (1) “the
priestly solar
have commenced in angelic teaching of divine knowledge and concentrated on the
before the
calendar, the angels, the chariot and the sevenfold angelic liturgy which were written
the destruction
Common Era,” and (2) “the Heikhalot and Merkabah literature, written after
explicitly states,
of the Temple and incorporating similar topics.” This second chapter, as she
“reflects the dialectical continuity with its priestly sources” (ibid.).
54 Blior, “Foundations,” p. 17.
55 Himmelfarb, “Merkavah Mysticism since Scholem,” p. 23.
56 Elior, “Foundations,” p. 3.
16 Introduction

for both are bought at the great cost of unabashedly or naively (or both) harmo-
nizing the sources in order to extract from them a common priestly ideology.*’
Obviously, according to Elior, there is no early Jewish mysticism outside the
realm of priestly ideology,® or, to put it differently, all disenfranchised priestly
ideology is “mystical.”
Elior’s sweeping pan-priestly approach has been met with much interest and
approval, at least in certain scholarly circles. April DeConick in her essay “What
Is Early Jewish and Christian Mysticism?” attests that Elior “has set forth the
most comprehensive thesis that I am aware of” and approves of her premise that
the priestly worldview or cosmology indeed informs the mystical discussions
within early Judaism and Christianity.°? Most recently, Philip Alexander, having
subjected the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice to a fresh examination, categori-
cally declares:
There was mysticism at Qumran. This mysticism arose not at Qumran itself but in
priestly circles in Jerusalem, from where it was taken to Qumran and adapted to the
community’s particular needs. This mysticism was the historical forerunner of later
Jewish Heikhalot mysticism, and should now be integrated into the history of Jewish*!
mysticism.”
Furthermore, and quite in contrast to Elior, Alexander is convinced that this
“new” attempt to “trace Jewish mysticism firmly back to Second Temple times”
contradicts the paradigm established by Scholem, who, in Alexander’s words,
“was reluctant to date the origins of Jewish mysticism much earlier than the third
century cE.” I am not sure that this statement accurately reflects Scholem’s
point of view,™ since, as we have observed, Scholem is much more sophisticated
with regard to the prerabbinic stage of the first phase of Jewish mysticism.°° We

57 This is also one of Himmelfarb’s main points; see her “Merkavah Mysticism since
Scholem,” pp. 24, 36.
8 This claim becomes particularly difficult with regard to the Hekhalot literature because it
presupposes that the bulk of this literature is of priestly origin — a very bold claim indeed. See
the critique of Himmelfarb, “Merkavah Mysticism since Scholem,” pp. 34ff.
%° April D. DeConick, “What Is Early Jewish and Christian Mysticism?” in eadem, Para-
dise Now, pp. 10f.
%° Interestingly enough, without explicitly mentioning Elior but instead emphasizing the
connections with the earlier works of Johann Maier and Ithamar Gruenwald.
6! And, as he later concludes, also of Christian mysticism: “These comments ... are surely
sufficient to make at least a prima facie case that Qumran mysticism belongs somewhere in the
genealogy of Christian as well as of Jewish mysticism” (Mystical Texts, p. 143).
® Alexander, Mystical Texts, p. VII (Alexander’s emphasis); see also p. 137.
% Tbid., p. 136.
° Although, to be fair, Alexander is acutely aware of the fact that Scholem effectively ig-
nored the earlier antecedents and increasingly concentrated on mysticism in a rabbinic milieu,
as I have argued above as well.
6 One needs much patience to fully understand and appreciate what Scholem says, not least
because he is a master of the art of “give and take,” that is, of developing his argument in a
dialectical process rather than in linear progression.
 Introduction Ly

will see whether or not our analysis of the Qumran sources — in particular the
Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice and the Self-Glorification Hymn — supports the
thesis of Qumran as the primary source feeding early Jewish mysticism.

2. Unio mystica

Since the unio mystica, the mystical union of the adept with the divine, is re-
garded as the backbone of most definitions of mysticism (that is, in religions
envisioning a personal God), and since Scholem was reluctant to give special
weight to this distinctive feature, scholars have quarreled over its application to
Jewish mysticism. Moshe Idel, one of the most fervent critics of Scholem, even
goes so far as to accuse Scholem of implicitly, if not deliberately, suppressing in
his vast research that particular strand of Jewish mysticism of which the mystical
union is characteristic. Idel distinguishes between two major strands in Jewish
mysticism, the theosophical-theurgical and the ecstatic. The former he defines
as mythic or mythocentric, symbolic, theocentric, sefirotic (that is, designing the
system of the ten Sefirot, the ten dynamic potencies within God), nomian (that is,
centered on the Halakhah), canonical, exoterically open to all Jews, less mysti-
cal, and not interested in the union with God, whereas to the latter he deigns to
grant the attributes anthropocentric, esoteric, sublime, anomian, individualistic,
intended to induce paranormal experiences, mystical par excellence, and indeed
aiming at the union with God.® Unfortunately for Idel, Scholem’s verdict that
“a total union with the Divine is absent in Jewish texts”®’ has been accepted by
most modern scholars of both Jewish as well as general mysticism. Even worse,
Idel holds, Scholem’s emphasis on the theosophical type of Jewish mysticism
and his neglect of the ecstatic type has led some scholars to conclude that Jewish
mysticism, since it is devoid of the essence of mysticism, should not be called
mysticism at all. Ultimately, this negation in Jewish mysticism of the unio
Press,
66 Moshe Idel, Kabbalah: New Perspectives (New Haven, CT: Yale University
Contributi on of Abraham Abulafia’s Kabbalah to the Understand -
1988), pp. XI ff.; idem, “The
Major
ing of Jewish Mysticism,” in Peter Schafer and Joseph Dan, eds., Gershom Scholem’s
Siebeck], 1993),
Trends in Jewish Mysticism: 50 Years After (Tibingen: J .C.B. Mohr [Paul
. 117-143.
full discussion
i 67 Tdel, Kabbalah: New Perspectives, p. 59. Idel does not refer to Scholem’s
“Merkabah Mysti-
of the subject in the introductory chapter to Major Trends and in the chapter
his chapter on Abu-
cism and Jewish Gnosticism,” but quotes only the following sentence from
with God, in which
lafia: “It is only in extremely rare cases that ecstasy signifies actual union
submersion in the divine
the human individuality abandons itself to the rapture of complete
invariably retains a sense
stream. Even in this ecstatic frame of mind, the Jewish mystic almost
His creature” (Major Tirends, pp. 122f.).
of the distance between the Creator and
ion of Abraham Abu-
68 Tdel, Kabbalah: New Perspectives, pp. 59f.; idem, “The Contribut
also Peter Schafer, “Ekstase,
lafia’s Kabbalah,” pp. 133 ff. On Idel’s problematic taxonomy, see
Aleida and Jan Assmann, eds.,
Vision und unio mystica in der friihen jiidischen Mystik,” in
ation V, vol. 2: Geheimnis und
Schleier und Schwelle: Archdologie der literarischen Kommunik
Offenbarung (Munich: Fink, 1998), pp. 101 ff.
18 Introduction

mystica as the core of mysticism, Idel concludes, assumes with Christian schol-
ars like Carl Jung and Robert C. Zaehner (a well-known historian of religion of
Scholem’s generation) an overtly anti-Jewish bias. As a prime example of this
bias Idel quotes Zaehner:
If mysticism is the key to religion, then we may as well exclude the Jews entirely from
our inquiry: for Jewish mysticism, as Professor Scholem has so admirably portrayed
it, ... would not appear to be mysticism at all. Visionary experience is not mystical
experience: for mysticism means, if it means anything, the realization of a union or a
unity with or in something that is enormously, if not infinitely, greater than the empiri-
cal self. With the Yahweh of the Old Testament, no such union is possible. Pre-Chris-
tian Judaism is not only un-mystical, it is anti-mystical. ... [I]t is therefore in the very
nature of the case that Jewish “mysticism” should at most aspire to communion with
God, never to union.”

The Christian bias of the sentence about the “Yahweh of the Old Testament” is
unmistakable, and Scholem would certainly not want to exclude Jewish mysti-
cism from mysticism, but does this necessarily mean that Zaehner’s distinction
between “communion” and “union” is wrong (notwithstanding the question of
whether or not one is inclined to call such a communion “mysticism’’)? After
all, Philip Alexander, definitely not prone to anti-mystical attitudes, has recently
made the very same distinction between “communion” (which he assigns to
“theistic systems, which in turn are conscious of an unbridgeable ontological
gap between the Creator and the created”) and “union” (which he reserves for
pantheistic systems).’° In Idel’s attempt to prove that the ecstatic type is the
dominant strand in Jewish mysticism and that the striving for mystical union is
therefore its predominant characteristic, one cannot avoid the impression that he
is driven more than necessary by a zeal to turn almost everything Scholem wrote
on its head. In any case, when we look for his proofs of the notion of a mystical
union in the early phase of Jewish mysticism (Merkavah mysticism), we find re-
markably little. Although he includes Merkavah mysticism in the ecstatic strand
(because for him it is by nature “ecstatic’’), his chapter, “Unio Mystica in Jew-
ish Mysticism,” in Kabbalah: New Perspectives’ jumps immediately into the
ecstatic Kabbalah proper” and does not deal with Merkavah mysticism at all,
® Robert C. Zaehner, At Sundry Times: An Essay in the Comparison of Religions (London:
Faber and Faber, 1958), p. 171.
7 Alexander, Mystical Texts, p. 8; see also above, n. 27.
7 Tdel, Kabbalah: New Perspectives, pp. 59-73. Fletcher-Louis, All the Glory of Adam,
p. 3, declares simply — and simplistically — that Scholem’s judgment regarding the place of unio
mystica in Merkavah mysticism “has now been rightly rejected by those who have taken up
his challenge that scholarship take Jewish mysticism seriously” and refers, as one of his major
proofs, to precisely these pages in Idel’s Kabbalah: New Perspectives. See now also William
ee Herodian Judaism and New Testament Study (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006), p. 49,
with n. 4.
” He is, however, convinced that certain conceptual structures of the (later) Kabbalah can
be (re)discovered in pre-kabbalistic texts, in particular in the talmudic, gnostic, and Merkavah
 Introduction 19

except for a couple of sentences about the transformation of Enoch into Meta-
tron, which falls for him under the category of a unitive experience.” Influenced
mainly by Abulafia’s peculiar kind of mysticism, Idel takes the idea of a Jewish
unio mystica to the extreme.
Among contemporary scholars, Elliot Wolfson has made the most progress re-
garding a typology of the mystical experience that does not just include (alleged)
ancient manifestations of Jewish mysticism but instead takes these ancient mani-
festations (apocalypses, Qumran sources, Hekhalot literature) as starting point
of the inquiry.” Responding to a paper by Qumran scholar Bilhah Nitzan,”
Wolfson finally gets to the root of the problem by stating that the modern schol-
arly tendency to focus on mystical union as the very essence of mysticism is
informed by Neoplatonic ontology, namely, the assumption that “contemplation
of God results in a form of union whereby the soul separates from the body and
returns to its ontological source in the One. Insofar as the One is beyond intel-
lect and being, the return to the One is depicted in figurative terms as a mystical
merging of the soul in the Godhead.”’° This Neoplatonic model, he posits, is
alien to the Jewish sources:
The Jewish sources, beginning with the apocalyptic and Qumran texts, may provide a
different model based not on henosis, but rather on the “angelification” of the human
being who crosses the boundary of space and time and becomes part of the heavenly
realm. ... The mystical experience in this framework involves as well a closing of the
gap separating human and divine, not, however, by the return of the soul to the One,
but rather by the ascension of the human into the heavens. ... In my opinion, the word
lead
“mysticism” should be used only when there is evidence for specific practices that
to an experience of ontic transformation, 1.., becoming divine or angelic. Accordingly,
and
it is inappropriate to apply the word “mystical” to the unison or harmony of human
technique or praxis that facilitates the idealization of a human being
angel if there is no
into a divine or angelic being in the celestial abode.”
litmus
Here we finally rid ourselves of the model of unio mystica as the ultimate
ce. Instead, now is introduc ed the no-
test for the quality of a mystical experien
transfor mation of the adept and
tion of heavenly ascent as leading to an ontic
n, Wolf-
resulting in his angelification or deification. According to this definitio
he does not discuss),
son finds “mysticism” in the ascent apocalypses (which
not in the Songs of the
the so-called Self Glorification Hymn from Qumran (but
. The advan-
Sabbath Sacrifice) and, most prominently, in the Hekhalot literature

see his Kabbalah: New Per-

mystical literature. He calls this approach “reconstructionalist”,
spectives, pp. 32 ff.
73 Tbid., p. 60.
74 Wolfson, “Mysticism,” pp. 185-202.
Poetic and Liturgical Writings
75 Bilhah Nitzan, “Harmonic and Mystical Characteristics in
from Qumran,” JOR 85 (1994), pp. 163-183.
76 Wolfson, “Mysticism,” p. 186.
7 Tbid., pp. 186f.
20 Introduction

tage of this definition consists in the fact that it does not impose a terminology
on the ancient texts that is alien to them (such as “‘mystical union”) but takes the
experience described in these texts as its starting point: the ascent of a human
individual to heaven that is indeed seminal to the apocalypses and the Hekhalot
literature (while being less so for the Qumran sources). Also, there can be no
doubt that in some of these texts the individual undergoes a bodily alteration
that transforms him into an angelic being. This is particularly true for the ascent
apocalypses and probably also for the Qumranic Self Glorification Hymn, but
the Hekhalot literature poses a problem. The prime example for the transforma-
tion of a human being into an angel, of course, is Enoch’s metamorphosis into
the highest angel Metatron. But Wolfson wishes to go much further. For him,
the major Hekhalot texts involve not only an ascent of the adept to the heavenly
realm and his participation in the heavenly liturgy; rather, “a critical part of the
ascent experience is the enthronement of the yored Merkavah, either on the char-
iot itself or on a throne alongside the throne of glory”; and it is this enthronement
of the adept “that transforms him into an angelic being, a transformation that fa-
cilitates his vision of the glory and the hypostatic powers of God that are active
before the throne.”’® Through this ingenious move Wolfson manages to declare
angelification an essential part of the Hekhalot literature as well. I discuss the
textual basis for this interpretation in my concluding chapter.
Finally, in using the term “deification” alongside the term “angelification,”
Wolfson avails himself of another artifice. He never explains the two words
but simply pretends they are both the same (employing them as a binomial and
mostly connecting them with the innocent conjunction “or”). But are they really
the same? True, human beings are sometimes transformed into angels, but does
this also mean that they are “deified,” that they become God? I suspect that Wolf-
son reaches his equation of angelification with deification by identifying the an-
gels acting before God’s throne with “hypostatic powers of God,” thus placing
God and his angels to a certain extent on an equal plane; hence, if the angels are
in fact “hypostatic powers,” then it makes little difference if the mystic is ange-
licized or deified. But are the angels really hypostatic divine powers — or could
it be that Wolfson succumbs here to Neoplatonic categories alien to the apoca-
lyptic, Qumranic, and Hekhalot literatures? This question and its implications
are likewise discussed in my concluding chapter.

Origins

For Scholem, as we have seen, the rise of mysticism out of or rather within the
husks of the institutionalized classical form of religion coincides with the ro-

78 Tbid., p. 193.
 Introduction DN)

mantic period of religion.””? Hence, romanticism is the catalyst of mysticism:

once romanticism breaks through the solidified forms of religious institutions,
the mystical phase of religion is born. This phase, moreover, is characterized by
a revival of mythical thought and therefore, to some extent, constitutes a return
to the “old unity which [institutionalized] religion has destroyed, but on a new
plane, where the world of mythology and that of revelation meet in the soul of
man.”*®° So, more precisely, mysticism brings religion back to its old mythical
roots — roots that were covered by the agglomerating sediments of religion’s in-
stitutionalization.
In his quest for the origins of mysticism, emerging at a certain point in space
and time in the history of a given religion, Scholem reveals himself to be a true
heir of evolutionary models within the history of religion, seasoned with a heavy
dose of German romanticism. As to the former, he clearly presupposes a linear
development, beginning with the innocent “childhood of mankind” in primordial
mythical times®! and ultimately culminating in mysticism as the highest form
of religion (its conflicting tendencies notwithstanding).*? As to the latter, his
romantic tendencies, these are much more obvious in Origins of the Kabbalah
than in Major Trends. It is in Origins of the Kabbalah that he tries to uncover the
remote and mythical “origins” of the Kabbalah in the “oriental” Gnosis of the
first centuries cE,®° whereas in Major Trends he remains rather vague about the
origins of Jewish mysticism, apart from the proposition that Jewish mysticism
originated in the romantic period of Judaism. But as we have already seen, this
description reveals a certain tension, to say the least, since it seems to presup-
pose two different origins: one of “Jewish mysticism” in general and another
one of “Kabbalah” in particular (although, to be sure, Kabbalah remains part of
Jewish mysticism).
So the quest for origins appears to be highly charged territory. If we disre-
gard the tension between “mysticism” and “Kabbalah,” mysticism, according
in
to Scholem, can nevertheless be seen to emerge (despite its mythical roots
historical circumsta nces: it is the driving force
prehistoric times) from very real
and revi-
that transforms institutionalized religion into something new, a higher
This dialectic between mysticism ’s
talized form of the religion under discussion.
is obviously what Scholem tried
mythic origins and its historical manifestation
the Kabbalah,
to capture in the tricky German title of his book on the origins of
origins and beginnings
Ursprung und Anfdnge der Kabbalah; that is, literally,

79 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 8.

80 Tbid.
Si ibid= psd:
of humanity in Underhillian
82 Ultimately seeing mysticism as a universal condition
terms. the Bible to
e Images of God from
83 See in more detail my Mirror of His Beauty: Feminin
n Universi ty Press, 2002), pp. 218 ff.
the Early Kabbalah (Princeton, NJ: Princeto
BP Introduction

(or early stages)* of the Kabbalah, with “beginnings” so conspicuously dropped

from the title of the English translation.
But what does this mean for the Jewish religion? What is the institutionalized
form of the Jewish religion out of which mysticism emerged? Scholem remains
in this regard rather vague. In terms of the lowly spheres of chronology, as we
have already seen, he wavers between the first century BCE and the talmudic pe-
riod for the emergence of the first stage of Jewish mysticism; and with regard
to the substance of the institutionalized religion he clearly has in mind rabbinic
Judaism, which for him serves as the epitome of a halakhically oriented form
of Judaism: only when the Halakhah becomes too rigid (this is the underlying
premise) is it time for mysticism to break through and inaugurate a new era.
As has been observed by several scholars, this definition of rabbinic Judaism
is in itself problematic.®* To portray rabbinic Judaism as entrapped within the ri-
gidity of the Halakhah and therefore in need of the liberating forces of mysticism
smacks ominously of certain Christian prejudices. Also, if mysticism is a reaction
to rabbinic Halakhah, one would expect the emergence of mysticism to occur at
the peak of halakhic development (let’s say with the appearance of the Bavli) and
not at its beginnings (with the appearance of the Mishnah). But Scholem needs
to have the early stage of rabbinic Judaism in the first two centuries as the hotbed
of mysticism because R. Ishmael and R. Aqiva, the most important rabbis of tan-
naitic Judaism, also happen to be the heroes of Merkavah mysticism — although
the first half of the second century CE can hardly be characterized as the epitome
of rabbinic Judaism’s halakhic obsession. Moreover, if the institutionalized reli-
gion of rabbinic Judaism triggers mysticism, how then can the “anonymous con-
venticles of the old apocalyptics,’®* as Scholem puts it, be included as the first
stage in his taxonomy of the first phase of Jewish mysticism? The ascent apoca-
lypses were certainly not motivated by any particular halakhic considerations,
and although Halakhah plays an important role in Qumran, no one would wish
to classify the Qumran sect as a specific form of institutionalized Jewish religion
(Scholem, for his part, makes no attempt to consider the Qumranic Halakhah).
Scholem’s description of the origins of the earliest manifestation of Jewish
mysticism is a tangle of contradictions. With his attempt to incorporate the pre-
rabbinic apocalypses into nascent mysticism, he sensed something important.
Yet he was reluctant to follow this intuition, not just, as he specifies (if not uses
as an excuse), because “to do so would involve a lengthy excursion into histori-
cal and philological detail’”*®’ but first and foremost, I venture to say, because he
was transfixed by his own definition of the origins of mysticism.

*4 “Early stages” is what the English translation uses for Anfdnge in the first sentence of the
first chapter of the book (Scholem, Origins, p. 3; see the full quotation above, n. 34).
85 See the apt summary in Alexander, Mystical Texts, Pewee
86 Scholem, Major Trends, p. 45.
87 ‘Ibid., p40;
 Introduction ae

The Origins of Jewish Mysticism

Bearing in mind Scholem’s grandiose but ultimately failed scheme, not to men-
tion the attempts of his successors, it would seem futile to try to design a theo-
retical model of the origins of Jewish mysticism within the developing Jewish
religion. The term “origins” as the mythical source from which something arises
or springs out of the primordial past,** and which, to be sure, in due time sub-
stantiates itself under certain historical circumstances that, for their part, mark a
crucial turning point in the history of the respective religion — this term “origins”
has proven to be highly problematic. It will therefore come as no surprise that
I will not be using the term in this sense. On the other hand, one cannot ignore
the necessity of determining the historical conditions under which a certain phe-
nomenon arises. After all, we start with the assumption that “mysticism” is not
an ideal construct suddenly descended from heaven but a historical phenomenon
that has established itself in space and time. So I will use the term “origins” in
a much more modest sense, namely, as the beginnings of something that has
subsequently been labeled “Jewish mysticism.” And with “beginnings” I do not
mean an absolute and fixed beginning at a certain place and time but a process
that extended over a protracted period and was not bound to one particular place.
Moreover, I do not envision this process to be linear and progressive; on the
contrary, I expect it to materialize differently at different times and places, not
in a linear development from A to B to C but as a polymorphic web or network
of ideas that are not free-floating but manifest themselves in certain practices of
individuals as members of certain communities. Whether these ideas can be tied
together under a common denominator — for example, “mysticism” — or whether
they ultimately fall apart into disiecta membra, scattered limbs, fragments of
something that in fact never achieved unity, remains to be seen. But this com-
mon denominator, if one does indeed exist, can only be determined at the end of
our investigation and not as some theoretical construct at its beginning. Hence, I
will employ a heuristic model of inquiry, merely allowing the historical process
to unfold instead of trying to prove something that has been established from the
beginning, in the double sense of the beginning of my research and the beginning
of the manifestation of the phenomenon.
The same is true for “Jewish mysticism,” the other part of our investigation’s
taxonomy. I deliberately refrain from any preconceived definition of mysticism
and use the word (in fictive quotation marks) only because it is the label that

88 This is the definition of the word “origin” as given by The Oxford English Dictionary,
from which
vol. 7 (repr. Oxford 1961), p. 202. More precisely, “origin” denotes both the source
Dictionary,
something springs as well as the act of arising or springing; see The Oxford English
means “that
2nd ed., vol. 10, p. 933. The same is true for the German Ursprung, which literally
; see Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Deutsches
which rises or springs from something primordial”
cols. 2538-2545.
Werterbuch, vol. 11.3, ed. Karl Euling (Leipzig: Hirzel, 1936),
24 Introduction

of course
scholarly tradition has long attached to the texts I will be treating. But
I keep in mind those definitio ns that have been suggeste d by scholars of mysti-
cism in general and Jewish mystici sm in particula r, some of which have been
discussed above. I make no secret of my reservat ions regardin g the view that the
unio mystica is the epitome of mysticis m, includin g its Jewish incarnat ion, and
Lalso make no secret of my preference for definitions that take as their starting
point the literary evidence as it has been preserved to the present day. Indeed,
I start with the assumption that it is our task to allow each set of texts and each
community represented by certain texts to speak for themselves, to tell us what
it is they find important and wish to emphasize. To be sure, the various texts and
communities have not volunteered as subjects for this enterprise; rather, it is I
alone who has decided which texts representing certain authors or communi-
ties to include in my inquiry. Yet this dilemma can hardly be avoided unless one
wishes to cast such a wide net that the exercise becomes useless. That being said,
with regard to the material basis of this study, I have not attempted to reinvent
the wheel but rely entirely on the corpus of texts that has emerged in a long tra-
dition of previous scholarship.
Hence, I ultimately and deliberately juggle two unknowns, “origins” and
“mysticism.” In analyzing certain core texts I attempt to capture and describe the
“toponymy” and nomenclature of these texts on their own terms, but of course
always with an eye to what they may or may not contribute to the question of
“mysticism.” I am aware of the vicious circle that such a pointedly pragmatic
approach entails, but I believe there exists no other or better solution that at the
same time avoids the risk of imposing a preconceived definition on the texts.
As has already become clear with the term “origins,” I am even prepared, as far
as “mysticism” is concerned, to accept a result that declares it to be a category
of no real use or meaning within the history of the Jewish religion and that ulti-
mately pronounces it dead.°*?
My methodology arises from these clarifications. Taking the texts as my start-
ing point, I am interested in methods that are most suitable not just for solving
textual problems but also for bringing out what the texts themselves seek to con-
vey. Accordingly, methods that do justice to the linguistic and historical para-
meters of a given text still seem to me most appropriate, and I am not afraid of re-
sorting to the allegedly old-fashioned and outdated historical-critical method — a
method that, in the post-Scholem era, serves as a scapegoat for almost everything
that (supposedly) went wrong with Scholem’s approach. This method, however,
does not confine itself to philological exercises; on the contrary, it takes the his-
torical circumstances surrounding the texts very seriously. It is concerned with
locating the various phenomena under discussion in their historical contexts

a See Boaz Huss, “The Mystification of the Kabbalah and the Myth of Jewish Mysticism,”
Pe‘amim 110 (2007), pp. 9-30 (in Hebrew). I return to this question in my concluding chapter.
 Introduction 25

and not just seeing them as free-floating entities beyond space and time. If this
method is able to connect given phenomena diachronically, this does not neces-
sarily presuppose a linear development of essentially the same “thing” — indeed,
quite the opposite: it reckons with substantial changes over time that ultimately
challenge the “identity” of the phenomenon. But in no way does it aim at a syn-
chronic description of a phenomenon detached from space and time.
If one wishes to discover in my methodological preferences elements of what
has been classified as the “phenomenological” approach, propagated by Moshe
Idel and his followers, then so be it — to a certain extent. Idel defines this ap-
proach as follows:
Thus, my approach uses phenomenology in order to isolate significant phenomena and
only thereafter to elaborate upon the possible historical relationships between them.
In other words my starting point is the unfolding of the phenomenological affinity be-
tween two mystical patterns of experience, preceding their historical analysis per se.
Hence, the phenomenological approach also serves historical aims, although not ex-
clusively.”
This statement is not as innocent as it sounds. To be sure, I am also interested
in “significant phenomena” that may be related to “mystical patterns of experi-
ence,” but, unlike Idel, who apparently knows from the outset what these phe-
nomena are, I leave open the question as to what may or may not be judged
mystical. Moreover, and most important, I do not believe that such “mysti-
cal patterns” can be discovered and delineated — let alone compared with each
other — outside their respective historical contexts. Thus, I do not think that one
can neatly distinguish between the isolation of “pure” mystical phenomena as
such and their subordinated historical condition. Both belong together, and fur-
thermore, both come before the next step, namely the evaluation of the possible
historical relationship between related phenomena.
In fact, despite his rather moderate and modest definition, Idel’s phenomeno-
logical approach runs the risk of dehistoricizing the phenomena it is looking at
and establishing an ahistorical, ideal, and essentialist construct.?! This becomes

9 Tdel, Kabbalah: New Perspectives, pp. XVIII f.

91 The most recent example of this approach is Idel’s Ben: Sonship and Jewish Mysticism
(London: Continuum, 2007). It offers many new and creative insights, but methodologically it
presents a breathtakingly ahistorical hodgepodge of this and that, quotations from many differ-
ent periods and literatures, pressed into scholarly sounding categories such as “apotheotic” and
“theophanic” but in fact lumped together by sentences like “Let me discuss now ...,” “Let me/
us turn to ...” (the preferred phrase), “Interestingly enough,” “I would like to now address,” “In
this context it should be mentioned,” and so forth. Constantly arguing against the usual suspects
who, in his view, impose a wrong and simplistic logic on the texts, in this book Idel has devel-
oped his method of leaps in logic and intuition to the extreme. Fora critique of Idel’s approach,
see Lawrence Kaplan, “Adam, Enoch, and Metatron Revisited: A Critical Analysis of Moshe
Idel’s Method of Reconstruction,” Kabbalah 6 (2001), pp. 73-119, and see furthermore Y. Tzvi
Langermann’s critique of Yehudah Liebes, below, n. 94.
26 Introduction

even clearer if one takes into consideration the fact that, according to Idel, the
historical-philological method favored by Scholem and his school of secular
academics results in an unbalanced preponderance of the theosophical-theurgi-
cal strand of Jewish mysticism (as found, for example, in the Zohar and in the
Lurianic writings), whereas Idel’s phenomenological method is open to the on-
going living experience of mysticism, including certain orthodox Jewish circles
today.°* Hence, what is ultimately at stake in Idel’s version of the phenomeno-
logical method is mysticism as a timeless religious phenomenon that deserves
not a “secular” historical analysis but a clarification of its practice. Idel’s stu-
dents went even further along this route and advocated a phenomenology that
focuses on the universalistic aspects of the mystical experience (devoid of its
historical constraints), on the mystical practice, and on its ramifications for our
religious life today. In essence, this new approach uses academic scholarship and
its results as building blocks for a new, postmodern mystical Jewish religion.”
It goes without saying that the extreme version of this approach must be re-
served for practitioners of the Jewish religion — for how could a non-Jew con-
tribute to this ultimate goal? — and thereby, in my view, deliberately abandons
the realm of secular academic research in favor of a new theology, if not some
New Age spirituality. If I, for one, feel excluded from such an enterprise — and
indeed, prefer to be excluded — I nevertheless do not wish to judge the legiti-
macy of the enterprise. It may well have its place in the framework of some in-
stitutionalized versions of “Jewish thought” or “Jewish theology,” but it should
be aware of its exclusivity, and it cannot and must not pretend to be the most
consequential and comprehensive approach to the Jewish form of mysticism in
the post-Scholem era.”

* Idel, “The Contribution of Abraham Abulafia’s Kabbalah,” p? 181.

** See the illuminating review essay by Boaz Huss, “The New Age of Kabbalah Research:
Book Review of Ron Margolin, The Human Temple; Melila Hellner-Eshed, 4 River Issues
Forth from Eden; Jonathan Garb, Manifestations of Power in Jewish Mysticism,” Te oriyah u-
Viqqoret 27 (2005), pp. 246-53 (in Hebrew). The use or rather misuse of the “phenomenologi-
cal approach” in Vita Daphna Arbel, Beholders of Divine Secrets: Mysticism and Myth in the
Hekhalot and Merkavah Literature (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2003), has
been aptly criticized in Ra‘anan S. Boustan’s review in JAOS 125 (2005), pp. 123-126. Bous-
tan rightly points out that Arbel completely ignores the long tradition of the phenomenology of
religion school and instead favors a “spiritualizing psychological interpretation” of Merkavah
mysticism that is “grounded in a fundamentally private, interior, and contemplative-meditative
experience” (p. 124).
** For a devastating critique of the school of “Jewish thought” in Jerusalem — its neglect of
history as a discipline and its exclusive reliance on “parallels” (maqbilot) — see
Y. Tzvi Lang-
ermann, “On the Beginnings of Hebrew Scientific Literature and on Studying History
Through
‘Magbilot’ (Parallels),” Aleph 2 (2002), pp. 169-189. Reviewing Yehudah Liebes’s
Torat ha-
Yeizirah shel Sefer Yetzirah (Jerusalem: Schocken, 2000), Langermann concludes
that Liebes
“merely juxtaposes the sources; rather than constructing arguments, he
relies on innuendo.
Although he sometimes explains why he believes that a certain parallel
is or is not significant,
Liebes applies no consistent method of analysis to the parallels adduced”
(ibid., pp. 177f.).
 Introduction D7

The scope of my inquiry in the chapters to follow is delimited on the one hand
by the book of Ezekiel in the Hebrew Bible as the starting point, and on the other
by the Hekhalot literature as the first unchallenged manifestation of Jewish mys-
ticism. Therefore, I am not interested in illuminating the relationship between
Jewish mysticism and Kabbalah, a problem that has been so inadequately ad-
dressed and even conspicuously glossed over by Scholem and his heirs. Kabba-
lah as a distinctly medieval phenomenon that presumably begins in the twelfth
century CE in Provence and extends well into our present day remains outside
the parameters of my survey. Rather, I focus exclusively on that early phase
of Jewish mysticism that Scholem has divided into three stages, the earliest of
which (Qumran and related literature) others have identified as the birthplace of
Jewish mysticism.
I begin with the famous first chapter of the book of Ezekiel — Ezekiel’s vision
of the open heavens with the four creatures carrying God’s throne and the “fig-
ure with the appearance of a human being” seated upon this throne (chapter 1).
Ezekiel’s vision sets the tone for the subsequent traditions: a fourfold relation-
ship between and among a somehow accessible heaven, a human seer or vision-
ary who has a vision, God as the object of this vision, and a revelation as the
purpose of the vision. As to God, the object of the vision, the description goes
remarkably far in Ezekiel’s case. He sees a human-like figure that still bears lit-
tle resemblance to an ordinary man. The figure’s overwhelming impression is
that of radiating fire: God’s body is of human shape but its essence is fire. Yet
the appearance of God, however veiled or revealed, is not an end in itself. I dem-
onstrate that it conveys a message to Ezekiel and his community (the vision is
complemented by, or rather climaxes in, an audition), namely, the message that
God is still there, in heaven, although the Temple will soon be destroyed. God
does not need the Temple — the whole cosmos is his Temple, as it once was in
the time of the patriarchs.
The second chapter turns to those ascent apocalypses that revolve around the
enigmatic antediluvian patriarch Enoch, who, according to the tradition, did not
die a natural death but was taken up by God into heaven. The first and oldest
Enoch narrative, derived from the biblical Vorlage, is that of the Book of the
Watchers (1 Enoch 1-36: late third century BCE?), in which Enoch experiences
a vision of God in heaven (ch. 14). Unlike his precursor Ezekiel, Enoch ascends
to heaven, more precisely to the heavenly Temple, to see God on his throne;
from now on the ascent becomes the predominant mode of human approach to
the God who is enthroned in heaven. But Enoch only attains to the open door
at
of the heavenly Holy of Holies from where he sneaks a peek — not at God but
— along with his
“Nevertheless it seems to me that Liebes’ exclusive attention to magbilot
— stems from the relative neglect of the particular
obliviousness to the limits of this method
of historical writing” (ibid., p. 188). I thank Ra‘anan Boustan for having drawn my
demands
attention to Langermann’s article.
28 Introduction

his raiment behind a veil of fire. And as with Ezekiel, the purpose of the exer-
cise is not the vision as an individual experience but is an audition, in Enoch’s
case, God’s revelation that the Watchers will be condemned forever. This cri-
tique of the Watchers, who have defiled themselves and brought evil upon the
earth, includes, I will argue, an implicit critique of the (rebuilt) earthly Temple:
since the Temple in Jerusalem has also been defiled, the heavenly Temple has
become the complete and perfect counterpart to the earthly Temple. Ultimately,
God no longer resides in the Jerusalem Temple but has withdrawn to his heav-
enly abode.
This Temple-critical motif continues with the Testament of Levi, the next apo-
calypse to be discussed in this chapter. It has nothing to do with Enoch, but in
its oldest form (the Aramaic Levi document) it has been dated to the middle of
the second century BCE and attributed to the same circles whence the Book of
the Watchers originated. Again, the vision of God is not the primary goal of this
narrative (in a very reduced form of a vision, Levi sees “the holy Temple and the
Most High upon a throne of Glory”) but rather the message conveyed by God:
Levi is invested with the insignia of the priesthood, yet unfortunately, his suc-
cessors will not live up to the task. They will corrupt the priesthood until God
appoints a new eschatological priest whose priesthood will endure forever.
The Similitudes or Parables of Enoch (1 Enoch 37-71: late first century BCE/
turn of the era) and the Second Book of Enoch (first century CE) retell Enoch’s
ascent to heaven in the Book of the Watchers, but they add a new element
that is alien to the earlier apocalypses: Enoch’s transformation into an angel.
Only hinted at in the Similitudes, this transformation plays a prominent role in
2 Enoch, where Enoch is stripped of his earthly clothes, anointed with holy oil,
and dressed in heavenly raiment, clearly indicating his transformation from a
human being into an angel. The angels, who make their first appearance as the
companions and interpreters of the visionary during his heavenly journey in the
Testament of Levi, become now the role model for the human hero, who aspires
to be one of them, for it is only in angelic form that he can approach as close to
God as he desires.
The third chapter also deals with ascent apocalypses, but now Enoch is re-
placed by a variety of heroes. The chapter begins with the Apocalypse of Abra-
ham (after 70 cE), which still follows the older Temple-critical motif and lacks
the explicit physical transformation of the seer. Instead, it grants the angel Iaoel,
who accompanies Abraham on his journey, a God-like state, a kind of compen-
sation for the fact that Abraham is not allowed to see God. However, the climax
of Abraham’s vision is his participation in the angelic liturgy, which may well
imply his transformation into an angel. But again, this angelification of the seer
is no mere end in itself: God reveals to Abraham the future history of Israel,
with the desecration of the Temple and the necessity of its destruction at that
history’s center.
 Introduction 29

With the next apocalypse, the Ascension of Isaiah (early second century CE),
we observe a decisive shift from the destiny of the community to that of the
righteous individual. Isaiah, in ascending to heaven during his lifetime (like his
predecessors) and in entering into a liturgical union (unio liturgica) with the an-
gels, is himself transformed into an angel, the highest stage that a human being
can achieve. But there remains a major difference between him as a member of
the angelic company and the deceased righteous, who populate heaven together
with the angels. In fact, the deceased righteous are superior to the angels (and
hence to Isaiah in his present state) since only they can actually look at God,
whereas the angels see him only vaguely. The ultimate transformation (into a
deceased righteous) and vision (of God) is left to the last stage of Isaiah’s human
journey, when he returns to heaven as a deceased righteous. This last step is
taken in the Apocalypse of Zephaniah (end of first century or beginning of the
second century CE?), where Zephaniah’s ascent to heaven is described as the last
journey of the righteous soul to its place in paradise. God remains completely
unseen — or else he got lost in the missing pages of the single remaining manu-
script. Instead, as in the Apocalypse of Abraham, emphasized here is the God-
like state of the highest angel (Eremiel).
The last ascent apocalypse to be included in my survey is the Apocalypse of
John (written between 81 and 96 cE) because I regard it, despite its Christian
provenance, as deeply indebted to the Jewish tradition. It has preserved many of
the characteristics of its predecessors while transforming them into something
intrinsically new. Here, the seer who undertakes the ascent recedes farthest into
the background; his place is taken by the Lamb, Jesus Christ, who is the one at
whom the revelation is directed and who is transformed — not just into an angel
but into a divine power next to and of equal rank with God.
In chapter 4, I continue with the literature preserved in the Qumran commu-
nity. In retreating to the shores of the Dead Sea because of the pollution of the
Jerusalem Temple, this community drives the Temple-critical motif to its ex-
treme. Only they, the chosen remnant of Israel, achieve cultic purity as a priestly
community that regards itself as living in communion with the angels. This com-
munion can take place either on earth — when, during the eschatological battle
between the “Sons of Light” and the “Sons of Darkness,” the angels descend to
earth in order to lead the holy warriors to their final victory (War Scroll) — or it
takes place (presumably) in heaven, when, during their liturgical worship, the
Qumran sectarians join their voices to the praise of the angels (Hodayot). I use
the word “communion” here deliberately, since it must remain an open question
as to whether or not the members of the community envision themselves, during
their joint worship with the angels, as being transformed into angels. The same

Qumran and
95 An earlier version of this chapter appeared as “Communion with the Angels:
,” in Schafer, Wege mystischer Gotteserfa hrung, pp. 37-66.
the Origins of Jewish Mysticism
30 Introduction

of the Sabbath
is true, I will argue, for the hymns collected under the title Songs
that the hero of this
Sacrifice. It is only in the so-called Self-Glorification Hymn
that is, actually
text imagines himself to be elevated among the angels in heaven,
and physically to be transformed into an angel.
(or even in
Contrary to the prevailing trend in research on Jewish mysticism
marginal
Qumran scholarship) I contend that the vision of God plays a strikingly
much less of one than in the ascent apocaly pses,
role in the Qumran texts and
of the ascent (althou gh its details often re-
where the vision at least is the goal
in all of the analyze d texts, the visual as-
main rather vague). I demonstrate that
pect of the enterprise is almost completely neglected. The same is true also for
the other important ingredient of the experience as described by Ezekiel and the
ascent apocalypses — the ascent. In the Qumran texts there is no description of
the ascent, be it of the community at large or of the individual that boasts of his
elevation among the angels. I therefore do not see any basis for the claim that
the Qumran community constitutes the incubator that hatched Jewish mysticism
and that the Qumran literature finds its mystical completion in the Hekhalot lit-
erature.
With the fifth chapter treating Philo, we enter a completely new realm, the
realm of a Jewish philosopher who was deeply imbued with the ideas of Plato
and their Middle Platonic offspring. Now, for the first time in Jewish history and
the history of the texts with their respective communities that we discuss, the
biblical and postbiblical unity of body and soul has been abandoned in favor of a
radical and constitutive separation between body and soul. The body is portrayed
as the prison of the soul, while the latter, being of divine origin, longs for its re-
lease from this prison and a return to its place of origin. This Platonic concept
has far-reaching consequences for our subject. I posit that Philo is by no means
concerned only with the postmortem return of the human soul to its divine ori-
gin; he also holds that the souls of certain individuals (including his own) can
undertake, during their lifetime, a “heavenly journey” that lifts the individual’s
soul up in a state of ecstasy and frenzy and transforms it into a kind of divine
essence. If anywhere in the Jewish tradition it is here, I argue, that we encounter
the idea of the divinization, yet not of the human being in his body and soul but
solely of his soul (which, moreover, no longer remains “his” soul in the strict
sense of the word but is replaced by a divine essence).
The complex and extensive rabbinic evidence of Ezekiel’s Merkavah and re-
lated traditions are discussed in two chapters. The first of these, chapter 6, begins
with the public exposition of Ezekiel 1 in the synagogue and with the famous
restriction in m Hagigah 2:1 regarding the biblical subjects of forbidden sexual
relations (Lev. 18/20), creation (Gen. 1), and the Merkavah (Ezek. 1). I demon-
strate that the former is concerned with the public presentation and exegesis of
the biblical text of Ezekiel, not with some kind of mystical experience, whereas
the latter shifts the emphasis from the public realm of the synagogue to a pri-
 Introduction Bil

vate teacher-student relationship in which the “dangerous” biblical subjects of

creation and the Merkavah in particular are perceived as an esoteric discipline
reserved for the rabbinic elite. But there can be no doubt, in my view, that these
rabbis understood the respective biblical texts as material for exegetical exer-
cises and not for ecstatic experiences that aim at an ascent to the Merkavah in
heaven.
The Mishnah’s harsh restriction is illustrated by a cycle of seven stories that
the Tosefta attaches to the Mishnah and that also appears in the Yerushalmi and
the Bavli, albeit in different contexts and in a different sequence. I discuss these
stories as separate units in the sequence in which they appear in the Tosefta, but
in each case I compare the Tosefta version with the versions in the Yerushalmi
and the Bavli, respectively. My analysis concludes that these seven stories, in
the earliest form that we can reconstruct, focus not on a mystical experience but
on the exegesis of what they call the “work of creation” (Gen. 1) and the “work
of the Merkavah” (Ezek. 1) as an esoteric discipline. Unlike the authors of the
ascent apocalypses, the rabbis seek their God not through an ascent to heaven
but through exegesis. However, there are clear traces in some of the stories,
particularly in the Bavli, that later editors tried to adapt them to the Merkavah
mystical ascent experience.
Having discussed the seven Tosefta stories as separate and quasi-independent
units, in my seventh chapter I turn to the structure in which they are presented
in the two Talmudim; that is, I analyze the respective contexts in which the
Yerushalmi and the Bavli processed them. I show that the Yerushalmi editor
leaves no doubt as to his concern with the exegesis of problematic biblical pas-
sages and that he, within the array of such passages, seems to have placed more
weight on the exposition of the work of creation than on the exposition of the
work of Merkavah. Moreover, although he appears intent on softening the strict
ruling of the Mishnah, he does not display any mystical-experience leanings in
his exposition of the Merkavah. The Bavli editor also emphasizes his interest in
the Merkavah as an exegetical discipline, but unlike his Yerushalmi colleague
he could not help imposing on his exposition of the Merkavah elements that do
indeed smack of “mystical” experience. I suggest that he received these elements
from outside sources that were strong enough to compel him to include them.
But it also becomes clear that he nevertheless felt obliged (as well as strong
enough) to neutralize and rabbinize this in his view dangerous and unwelcome
material.
literature
With chapter 8, we finally tackle the Hekhalot literature, that is, the
mystical
that for almost every scholar embodies the first climax of the fledgling
Merkava h mysticis m. I again adopt a heuristic ap-
movement within Judaism:
reconstr ucting certain key concepts out of the
proach. Instead of choosing and
well as stylistic ally and thematic ally dispa-
voluminous and chronologically as
major Hekhalot
rate literary material, I follow the given sequence of some of the
32 Introduction

texts (Hekhalot Rabbati, Hekhalot Zutarti, Shi*ur Qomah, and 3 Enoch) as they
are preserved in the manuscripts and try to evaluate what they have to tell us
about our subject in their own terms and within their respective context. What
emerges is a highly complex and multilayered network of ideas that cannot and
must not be reduced to the heavenly journey of the mystic and his climactic vi-
sion of God in the highest heaven. In its multifarious complexity, the Hekhalot
literature offers us much more than just a report on the ascent of certain rab-
bis, and it is one of the goals of this chapter to capture this “more” and to put
the ascent traditions in their appropriate frame of reference as presented by the
editor(s) of the texts.
I demonstrate that in Hekhalot Rabbati we encounter a clear tendency to dis-
appoint or even frustrate our expectation of the depiction of God on his throne
(to be sure, an expectation cunningly fueled by the editor), wishing instead to
impress us with endless and exhausting descriptions of the heavenly liturgy,
of which the adept becomes part. But as I will argue, this strategy seems to be
quite deliberate, since it is not a unio mystica that our editor wishes to convey
but rather a unio liturgica, a liturgical union of the Merkavah mystic with God
through his participation in the heavenly liturgy that surrounds God’s throne.
Moreover, and more important, I posit that this liturgical union is again, as in
some of the ascent apocalypses, no end in itself; rather, within the narrative
composed by the editor of Hekhalot Rabbati, it serves to convey the message
that God continues to love his people of Israel on earth, even though the Temple
is destroyed and the Merkavah mystic must undertake his dangerous heavenly
journey to visit God on his throne in the heavenly Temple. It is this message that
God wants the Merkavah mystic — the new Messiah — to bring down to his fel-
low Jews as the ultimate sign of salvation.
Quite in contrast to Hekhalot Rabbati, the text labeled Hekhalot Zutarti in
some later manuscripts puts great emphasis on the magical use of the divine
names. To be sure, in a certain layer of it we do find ascent traditions similar to
those of Hekhalot Rabbati, but even these are adapted to the editor’s main mes-
sage, namely, that the ascent primarily results in neither a vision of God nor in
the adept’s participation in the angelic liturgy but in the knowledge of the divine
names and their proper use. In addition, the communal orientation so conspicu-
ous in Hekhalot Rabbati gives way to a much more individualistic or even ego-
istic approach in Hekhalot Zutarti, with R. Agiva and his students as the heroes.
And the angels — in Hekhalot Rabbati, primarily the guardians of the heavenly
palaces and the guides of the worthy mystic — become the forces that are at the
adept’s disposal for the accomplishment of a successful magical adjuration.
Next follows a survey of the Shi‘ur Qomah fragments preserved in the
Hekhalot literature; that is, the traditions that assign God gigantic body dimen-
sions to which hundreds of unintelligible names are attached. My analysis of the
respective texts in the Hekhalot literature goes against the grain of the thesis in-
 Introduction 33

augurated by Scholem and accepted by many scholars, namely, that the mystic’s
vision of the gigantic body of God serves as the climax of his ascent. Quite in
contrast to this still prevalent trend in research, I hold that what is at stake here
is not the dimensions of God’s body but the knowledge of the appropriate names
attached to the limbs of God’s body and, consequently, the magical use of these
names. Furthermore, I argue against the suggestion made by Scholem and others
that the Shi‘ur Qomah traditions are essential for the Merkavah mystical specu-
lations, that they are a particularly old layer of the Hekhalot literature, and that
they emerged out of the exegesis of the biblical Song of Songs. Finally, I com-
pare the Shi‘ur Qomah traditions in the Hekhalot literature with some related
evidence that has been adduced from Jewish, Gnostic, and Christian sources, and
I propose that it was originally angels in the Jewish tradition to whom gigantic
dimensions were attributed. Only when the idea of vast angelic dimensions was
usurped by the Christians did the (later) Jewish traditions — as they are preserved
in the Shi‘ur Qomah — transfer these gigantic dimensions to God and claim that
they were suitable for God alone, and not for angels or other figures that might
dispute God’s position as the one and only God.
The last subsection of this chapter turns to the Third Book of Enoch (3 Enoch),
in my view the latest offspring of Hekhalot literature. Here, the ascent of a rabbi
(Ishmael) to the highest heaven recedes in importance; instead, the human being
Enoch returns as the main hero of the text. In a way that is unparalleled in the
ascent apocalypses as well as in other texts of the Hekhalot literature, Enoch is
physically transformed into Metatron, the highest angel in heaven, and is as-
signed the unique title “Lesser YHWH.” Against an increasingly fashionable
trend in modern scholarship, I insist that we need to take the rather late date of
3 Enoch seriously and cannot connect Enoch’s transformation into Metatron di-
rectly and monolinearly with early (pre-Christian) Jewish traditions — such as the
hypostasized “Wisdom” and “Logos” or the “Ancient of Days” in Daniel with
the “Son of Man” as his allegedly younger companion — in order to utilize Me-
tatron for the reconstruction of an (early) “binitarian” Jewish theology. In con-
trast, I posit that Enoch’s transformation into Metatron in 3 Enoch may well be
a response to the New Testament’s message of Jesus Christ as the divine figure
second only to God who takes his seat in heaven “at the right hand” of God. Un-
derstood this way, Metatron, as the antagonist of Jesus, completes and ultimately
concludes the movement of the Merkavah mystics. The human individual who
ascends to heaven and returns from there with God’s message to the people of
Israel is replaced by a human-divine savior figure who, from his heavenly abode,
intercedes on behalf of God’s beloved people on earth.
 Chapter |

Ezekiel’s Vision

The Cosmos as Temple

In 597 BcE the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar deported Jehoiachin, King of

Judah, together with the royal establishment to Babylonia. Among the exiled
was Ezekiel, son of Buzi the priest and himself a priest. Five years after his ar-
rival in Babylonia, Ezekiel had a vision in which he was appointed prophet and
ordered to console his fellow captives, to admonish them and announce the final
downfall of Jerusalem, the eventual return from exile, and the time of salvation.
The precise locale of the vision has been determined as the Chebar canal, appar-
ently near the city of Nippur,! where the exile settlement Tel Aviv was located
(Ezek. 3:15).?
Ezekiel is not the first prophet to be appointed such through a vision. His pre-
decessor Isaiah had his famous vision of God “in the year that King Uzziah died”
(Isa. 6:1), namely, the year 739 BcE, and Ezekiel’s older contemporary Jeremiah,
also a priest, received his first prophetical revelation in the thirteenth year of
King Josiah (Jer. 1:2), the year 628 BCE. But whereas Isaiah’s vision clearly took
place in the Jerusalem Temple, and while Jeremiah was granted his many rev-
elations in the land of Israel, Ezekiel is the first biblical prophet to be granted a
vision and emerge a prophet outside the Holy Land. Foreign lands were regarded
as unclean (Ezek. 4:13), and that God should have revealed himself to a newly
appointed prophet outside the land of Israel created a problem. The explicit men-
tion of the Chebar canal may well be an attempt to circumvent this problem: run-
ning water was considered to have a purifying effect (Lev. 15:13; Num. 19:17)
and hence could compensate for the negative impact of the unclean foreign land.
Already the Mekhilta, one of the earliest midrashic commentaries on the Bible,
follows this line of argumentation and suggests that after the land of Israel was

' John William Wevers, Ezekiel: Based on the Revised Standard Version (London: Nelson,
1969 [repr. 1982, William B. Eerdmans, Grand Rapids, MI]), p. 43; Moshe Greenberg, Ezekiel
1—20: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (Garden City, NY: Doubleday,
1983), p. 40; Daniel I. Block, The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 1-24 (Grand Rapids, MI/Cam-
bridge: William B. Eerdmans, 1997), p. 84.
* From which the name of the modern Israeli city Tel Aviv was taken.
 Ezekiel’s Vision 35

chosen the Holy Land, God revealed himself to his prophets outside the land of
Israel at a “place which was pure because of (running) water.”?
Ezekiel’s vision is the most elaborate vision of any prophet in the Hebrew
Bible, becoming the role model that has shaped many visionary experiences in
the Jewish and Christian traditions. This chapter is devoted to a close reading of
Ezekiel 1. What is it precisely that Ezekiel saw, and how does the content of his
vision relate to the biblical context in which it is embedded? What kind of expe-
rience does it entail? What is the message of the vision, and what is its function
in the book of Ezekiel?
The book opens solemnly, dating and locating Ezekiel’s decisive vision:4
(1) It was in the thirtieth year in the fourth month on the fifth day of the month, as
I was among the exiles by the Chebar canal, that the heavens opened (niftehu ha-
shamayim), and I saw visions of God (wa-’er eh mar ot elohim). (2) On the fifth day of
the month — that was the fifth year of King Jehoiachin’s exile — (3) it happened (hayoh
hayah) that the word of YHWH (devar YHWH) came to Ezekiel the priest, the son of
Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans by the Chebar canal, and the hand of YHWH (yad-
YHWH) came upon him there.

Scores of scholars have dealt with the unevenness of this text (what is the thir-
tieth year; how does the fifth year of King Jehoiachin’s exile refer to this; is v. 2
a gloss explaining or correcting v. 1, etc.),° but these details are of minor impor-
tance here. The chief message is that Ezekiel was among the exiles by the Chebar
canal when the heavens opened and he saw visions (v. 1), which were accompa-
nied by an audition (v. 3). Let us briefly look at these characteristics.
The phrase that introduces the whole experience, “the heavens opened,” is
unique in Ezekiel and in the Hebrew Bible’ but becomes a common expression

3 Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, pisha bo 1 (H.S. Horovitz and I.A. Rabin, eds., Mechilta
d’Rabbi Ismael [Jerusalem: Bamberger and Wahrman, 1960], p.3; Jacob Z. Lauterbach,
Mekilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, vol. 1 [Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1933], p. 6). In
Ezek. 3:22 f., however, it is a “valley” in which God reveals himself to Ezekiel (with no water
mentioned). The Targum on Ezek. 1:1 has a different solution (which is also mentioned as a pos-
sibility in the Mekhilta): God would reveal himself to a prophet outside the land of Israel only
after this same prophet had first received a revelation within the Holy Land. This, of course,
goes against the plain meaning of the biblical text of Ezek. 1:1 f., but it is read into the pleonastic
phrase (infinitive and finite verb) hayoh hayah in v. 2: the seemingly superfluous hayoh refers
in
to a previous revelation within the land of Israel, whereas hayah refers to the actual vision
8:3 f. and 40:2, Ezekiel is brought to Jerusalem and
Babylonia. See also Rashi, ad loc. In Ezek.
the land of Israel, respectively, probably to avoid this problem.
with
4 The translation of the biblical text follows Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, pp. 37f., though
some changes.
Untersuchung
5 Gustav Holscher, Hesekiel, der Dichter und das Buch: Eine literarkritische
39 f.; Block, Ezek-
(Giessen: A. Topelmann, 1924), pp. 43 ff.; Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, pp. 8 ff.,
iel, pp. 80 ff.
6 The Hebrew word is patah in the Nif«al.
(wa-yer) the sky
7 Coming closest to our Ezekiel text is 2 Sam. 22: 10, in which God “bends”
), mounts a cherub, and flies on its back (v. 11).
and “comes down” (wa-yerad
36 Chapter 1

in the later Jewish tradition. Particularly instructive are 2 Baruch and the Testa-
ments of the Twelve Patriarchs. 2 (Syriac) Baruch pretends that Baruch, the son
of Neriah, received his first prophetic revelation in the very year in which King
Jehoiachin was deported, thereby clearly connecting Baruch and his prophecy
with Ezekiel (1:1); however, the book was in fact written after the destruction
of the Second Temple, in the early second century cE. As in Ezekiel, the “word
of the Lord came to Baruch,” but it is much later in the book that the audition
is accompanied by the vision of the open heaven: “And afterward it happened
that, behold, the heavens were opened, and I saw, and strength was given to
me, and a voice was heard from on high” (22:1).8 More emphasis is placed on
the open heavens in the Testament of Levi, where the priest Levi assumes the
role of the prophet and is appointed by God to “tell forth his mysteries to men”
and to “announce the one who is about to redeem Israel” (2:10).’ Accordingly,
“the heavens are opened” in front of him, and he is asked to enter (2:6). He sees
a first and a second heaven and finally the uppermost (third?) heaven, where
the “Holy Most High is sitting on the throne” (5:1).'° When the redeemer, an
eschatological (high) priest, appears at the end of time, “the heavens will be
opened” again, “and from the temple of glory sanctification will come upon
him” (18:6). Hence, as in Ezekiel, the open heavens function as the visionary
tool of the prophet/priest, but they acquire here important additional meanings.
First, the vision of the prophet is not solely limited to the earth: unlike Ezekiel,
who remains earthbound and has no direct contact with the divine realm, Levi
physically enters heaven. It is not God who moves downward from heaven to
earth, but the prophet who leaves his position on earth and traverses the open
heavens to see God in his place in heaven. Second, and even more far-reaching,
the prophet is exchanged for the Messiah: the open heavens become the channel
through which the Messiah receives the Spirit of God as the sign of his divine
appointment and the tool of his mission of redemption. The same is true for the
Testament of Judah, where the messianic “Star from Jacob” is announced: the
“heavens will be opened upon him to pour out the spirit as a blessing of the Holy
Father” (24:2)."!
The New Testament continues both lines of the Jewish tradition, the open
heavens as medium of the prophetic vision and as divine confirmation of the
Messiah. Examples of the former are Acts 7:55f. (Stephen sees “the heavens
opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God”) and Acts 10:11 ff.
8 The translation follows A.F.J. Klijn, “2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch,” in OTP, vol. 1,
pp. 621 ff.
° The translation follows H.C. Kee, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs,” in OTP, vol. 1,
pp. 782 ff.
'0 More on this in the next chapter.
'' Very different from the prophetic-apocalyptic tradition is 3 Macc. 6:18: here God opens
the gates of heaven to send down two angels, which threaten the king (Ptolemy IV Philopator)
and his forces.
 Ezekiel’s Vision 37

(the apostle Peter sees the heavens open and all kinds of unclean animals coming
down, and he hears a heavenly voice calling upon him to slaughter and eat these
animals).!* The latter is most prominent in those passages describing Jesus’s
baptism in the Jordan and Stephen’s stoning. After Jesus was baptized by John
the Baptist and emerged from the water, “the heavens were opened and he saw
the Spirit of God descending like a dove alight on him. And there came a voice
from heaven saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, in whom I take delight.’”!? The
open heavens and the descent of the Spirit of God, together with the heavenly
voice quoting a patchwork of verses from the Hebrew Bible,'* confirm Jesus
as the Messiah. Similarly, when Stephen claims to see the heavens opened and
the “Son of Man standing at the right hand of God,” he manages to provoke his
fellow Jews and is stoned to death, because he makes no less a claim than that
Jesus, the Messiah, has been resurrected and returned to his hereditary place in
heaven.!>
In Ezekiel, the open heavens enable the prophet to see “visions of God,” in
other words, to make direct contact with the divine while still remaining on earth.
Most scholars agree that these visions are not, strictly speaking, visions of the
deity but rather a “divine vision,” a supernatural vision (or supernatural visions)
provided by God.'® This becomes clear from the parallels in Ezek. 8:3 and 40:2,
where Ezekiel is brought, by mar ‘ot elohim, to Jerusalem or the land of Israel,
respectively; but nevertheless, as we will see, the climax of these visions is the
vision of God himself. The effect of the divine vision on the prophet is expressed
by the phrase “and the hand of the Lord came upon him,” which is again peculiar
to Ezekiel’s experience from the very beginning of his prophecy.'’ It character-
izes the prophet’s physical rapture: he is grabbed by God, singled out from the
other exiles and likely also transformed into a state of mind — or, in some cases,
of body (in 8:3 and 40:1 f. the “hand” delivers him to some other place) — that
enables him to perceive the vision.'* Most scholars want to see here the echo of
an extraordinary, paranormal and probably even ecstatic experience.’ Finally,
the text makes clear that the vision is accompanied by an auditory revelation:

12 Tp Rev. 4:1 ff. (discussed in detail in chapter 3), the visionary sees a door open in heaven
and hears a voice that invites him on up. Hence, Revelation combines the motifs of the open
heavens and the ascent.
13 Mt. 3:16f.; cf. Mk. 1:10f.; Lk. 3:21 f.; John 1:32-34.
14 Gen. 22:2; Ps. 2:7; Isa. 42:1.
15 Cf, also John 1:51.
16 Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 41; Block, Ezekiel, pp. 84f.; but see Wevers, Ezekiel, p. 43.
17 See Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, pp. 41f. (it occurs only with earlier prophets but not with
the other literary prophets).
18 See also Ezek. 3:22, 8:1 (here “the hand of the Lord fell” upon Ezekiel), 40:1.
19 Georg Fohrer, Ezechiel, mit einem Beitrag von Kurt Galling (Tiibingen: J .C.B. Mohr
an
[Paul Siebeck], 1955), p. 10, speaks of an “ecstatic state,” Wevers, Ezekiel, p. 43, speaks of
“ecstatic vision,” and Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 42, speaks of a “trance.”
38 Chapter 1

ingly common in
“the word of the Lord came to Ezekiel,” a clause that is exceed
from the other literary prophet s.”°
the book of Ezekiel but almost absent
sees? The vision proceed s in four stages.
What is it now precisely that Ezekiel
The first is the vision of the four enigmatic creature s (the hayyot) :
and flashing
(4) As I looked, a stormy wind came from the north, with a large cloud
out of it— out of the fire — [appeared ] something
fire, surrounded by a radiance (nogah);
creatures
that looked like (ke- ‘ein) hashmal.”! (5) Out of it the shape (demut)” of four
a human shape
(hayyot) [emerged], and this was their appearance (mar ‘ehen): they had
(demut adam), (6) but they had each four faces and four wings. (7) For legs, they had
a straight leg,’ and their feet were like a calf’s foot.24 They gleamed like (ke- ‘ein)
their
burnished bronze (nehoshet qalal). (8) Human hands were under their wings on
four sides. As for the faces and the wings of the four of them, (9) their wings were
joined one to another;”> they did not turn around as they went, but each went straight
ahead.° (10) [As for] the shape of their faces (demut penehem), [each had] the face of
a man (penei adam) [in front]; but on the right the four of them had a lion’s face (penei
arieh), and on the left the four of them had a bull’s”’ face (penei shor); and the four of
them had an eagle’s face (penei nesher) [at the back].** (11) And their faces”? and their
wings were spread out above; each of them had two [wings] joining each other, while
two [wings] covered their bodies. (12) Each went straight ahead; wherever the spirit
would go they went, without turning around as they went. (13) And the shape (demut)
of the creatures, their appearance, was like*® burning coals of fire, something with the
appearance (ke-mar ‘eh) of torches it was, moving to and fro among the creatures. The
fire had a radiance (nogah), and from it lightning flashed. (14) And the creatures darted
to and fro with the appearance (ke-mar ’eh) of sparks (bazaq).

This dramatic, textually highly complex narrative (sometimes corrupt and some-
times glossed by a later editor) can be summarized as follows. On a summer
day?! at the Chebar canal, Ezekiel suddenly experiences a strong wind from the
north and sees a cloud with a bright, glowing center out of which fire flashes. The
fire takes the form of four creatures, each with straight legs and four faces and

20 Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, pp. 83 f.

21 The etymology of this word (used only in Ezekiel) is unclear; it seems to indicate some
kind of precious metal. The Septuagint and the Vulgate have é/ektron/electrum, “amber.” Ac-
cordingly, Block, Ezekiel, p. 92, translates “the sparkle of amber.”
22 Demut can mean “form, shape, figure” as well as “likeness, semblance.”
# Meaning either “unjointed” or simply “standing with legs straight, not in a crouching po-
sition”; see Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 44.
24 Greenberg, Ezekiel J—20, p. 44: round, that is, lacking orientation.
The upper set of their wings touched each other.
Lit. each went in the direction of their faces.
Orsoxesia
The Hebrew text has neither “in front” nor “at the back,” but this can be easily inferred:
an observer would see the human face looking at him, flanked by a bull’s face to the left and a
oe to the right; the eagle’s face would then be left for the back of the creature.
. And their faces” does not make any sense here; it is missing in the Septuagint.
‘ The Septuagint has: “and amidst the creatures there was something looking like. ...”
' The “fourth month” seems to be the month of June or July.
 Ezekiel’s Vision 39

four wings. Their bodies and their hands are human, but of their four faces only
one is human; the others are of a lion, a bull, and an eagle. Of the four wings,
two cover their bodies and two are spread out, touching the wings of their com-
panions. The creatures move in any direction they wish, in perfect harmony and
unity, and never turn around, since they always face the direction in which they
move. In addition to the movement of the creatures, there is another, torchlike
fire among the creatures*? that possesses a movement of its own and from which
lightning flashes.
The four creatures as described here by Ezekiel are unique in the Hebrew
Bible. The noun hayyah always denotes wild quadrupeds, in contrast to domestic
animals,* and nothing we know about the biblical hayyot prepares us for Ezek-
iel’s hybrid creatures. It is obvious that for the author himself, these creatures
were so unusual that he did not coin a neologism but simply called them hay-
yot, living creatures. It is tempting to identify them with the cherubs (keruvim),
winged hybrid creatures, indigenous to many ancient Near Eastern cultures,
that found their way into the Bible, all the more so as the book of Ezekiel itself
(ch. 10) provides this identification. What the cherubs have in common with
Ezekiel’s depiction of the hayyot is that they are winged — in Solomon’s Tem-
ple their wings cover the ark in the Holy of Holies (1 Kings 6:23-28) — and that
they seem to carry God’s throne (God is said in the Bible to be “enthroned on
the cherubs”).*4 But their shape, which plays such an important role in Ezekiel,
is not communicated more concretely. Ezekiel clearly does not want to identify
his hayyot straightaway with the cherubs in the Temple, probably for the very
reason that they are not bound to the Temple! Nor does he identify his creatures
with the seraphs seen by Isaiah (6:2), which likewise stand in attendance at the
divine throne and have three sets of wings: with one set they fly, with another
they cover their legs (like the creatures in Ezekiel), and with the third set they
cover their faces (in order not to look at God).
If we broaden our perspective and include the Mesopotamian iconogra-
phy — of which Ezekiel naturally was aware — we come to the same conclusion:
the ancient Near East is full of composite zoomorphic and anthropomorphic
creatures (most notable among them the winged quadrupeds with human faces)
that might have inspired Ezekiel, but none of them resembles Ezekiel’s hay-
yot.*> On the other hand, there are examples of four-winged gods and goddesses
or genii in human shape that support the heaven with their hands or wings and

32 Following the reading of the Septuagint.

33 See, e.g., Gen. 1:28, 7:14.21, 8:19, 37:20; Lev. 26:6; Isa. 35:9; Ps. 104:25.
cherubs’ func-
34 Tsa, 37:16; Ps. 80:2, 99:1; 1 Sam. 4:4; 2 Sam. 6:2; 2 Kings 19:15. On the
tion in Ezekiel, see below.
35 See the useful summary of the evidence in Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, pp. 55f.
40 Chapter I

that Othmar Keel regards as the closest parallel to Ezekiel’s quadrupeds.*° And
with the
finally, a few examples of four-faced deities have come to light, but all
four different faces. So the conclusi on is una-
same faces.37 None of them bears
voidable that, despite the obvious absorpti on of certain elements from the local
culture (composite creatures, four wings, four faces), Ezekiel’ s creature s are
unique and must be seen as his own creation.*®
The second stage of the vision is a detailed description of the “wheels” ac-
companying the four creatures*?:
(15) As I looked at the creatures I saw one wheel (ofan) on the ground alongside each
of the four-faced creatures.‘ (16) As for the appearance (mar ’eh) of the wheels and
their design, they were like (ke- ‘ein) chrysolite (tarshish),*! and all four had the same
shape (demut); their appearance (mar ‘ehem) and their design (ma ‘asehem) was as if
one wheel were inside the [other] wheel. (17) When those went, these went on their four
sides, without turning around when they went. (18) As for their rims (gabbehem), they
were tall and frightening; for the brows (gabbotam) of the four of them were inlaid all
around with eyes.*? (19) When the creatures went, the wheels went beside them; when
the creatures rose off the ground, the wheels rose too. (20) Wherever the spirit would
go, they went — wherever the spirit would go“ — and the wheels rose alongside them,
for the spirit of the creature was in the wheels: (21) when these went, those went, and
when these stood still, those stood still; and when these rose off the ground, the wheels
rose alongside them, for the spirit of the creature** was in the wheels.

The four creatures are each accompanied by four wheels, and the creatures with
their wheels move in perfect harmony. This whole passage emphasizes the unity
and harmony of the creatures and their wheels, which always move in the same

36 Othmar Keel, Jahwe-Visionen und Siegelkunst: Eine neue Deutung der Majestdts-
schilderungen in Jes 6, Ez 1 und 10 und Sach 4 (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1977),
p. 207.
37 Greenberg, Ezekiel I-20, pp. 55f.
38 This is also Greenberg’s conclusion (Ezekiel 1-20, p. 58): “The specific combinations,
such as the four distinct faces, and the ensemble remain unprecedented for us — and for the
prophet”; see also Block, Ezekiel, p. 98.
39 The caesura is marked by the repeated wa’ereh in v. 15 (see v. 4).
40 T follow here the Septuagint. The Hebrew text applies the four faces to the wheels, hence:
“with its [the wheel’s] four faces,” which strongly indicates a later transference of the motif of
the four faces from the hayyot to the wheels. This identification is clearly made in 10:14.
41 “Chrysolite” is the Septuagint’s translation of tarshish in Ex. 28:20; here (in Ezek. 1:16)
it transliterates tharsis, and in 10:9 and 28:13 it translates anthrax (a stone of dark red color).
According to Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 47, chrysolite is a bright yellow stone; Wevers, Ezek-
iel, p. 47, on the other hand, declares that it is a dark green stone, “whereas a yellow colour
is expected.” Block, Ezekiel, p. 99, translates “beryl” and suggests that it “is probably to be
equated with Spanish gold topaz.”
® Lit. “they had height and they had dread.”
‘3 The rims of the wheels are like eyebrows because they are covered with eyes.
“4 This seems to be a gloss.
“S The Septuagint and the Vulgate have pneuma z6és and spiritus vitae, respectively, which
could also be translated as “spirit of life.”
 Ezekiel’s Vision 4]

direction, both on and above the ground. The strange image of one wheel inside
the other (v. 16) does not explain the technical structure of the wheels but rather
seems to express the idea that the four wheels, although located at four differ-
ent sides of the square formed by the four creatures, always move in the same
direction. The wheels do not move freely and independently but are steered by a
power emanating from the creatures: it is the “spirit” of the creatures that com-
mands the wheels (and the unity of the creatures is again emphasized by the sin-
gular “creature” in vv. 20 and 21).
There can be no doubt that it is the function of the wheels to evoke the image
of a chariot; any observer or reader will have thought immediately of one of the
throne-chariots so characteristic of the ancient Near East.*° But if we look at the
parallels, we reach the same conclusion as with the hayyot: Ezekiel has clearly
adopted and combined images that were familiar to him, but the end product
is not identical with any single one of these images. For, strictly speaking, his
creatures and wheels do not constitute a chariot. The wheels and the creatures
are not joined together; it is solely the spirit that coordinates the movements of
the creatures and the wheels. The same is true for the only biblical parallel ad-
duced by most commentators, the lavers in the Temple, which had four bronze
wheels and were decorated with cherubs, lions, and oxen (1 Kings 7:23-39). But
although the lavers were mobile and carried something (water), they obviously
were not a throne.
The apparition with the creatures and wheels does not approach Ezekiel; it is
not something that moves toward him so that he can have a closer look. Rather,
the open heavens grant him a look at something that takes place in heaven: the
movement of the Aayyot with their wheels (and what is on top of them; see
below). The text gives the impression of a rather incoherent and chaotic move-
ment back and forth in all possible directions. There can be no doubt, however,
that the number four (four creatures, four wheels) is no coincidence but refers to
the four corners of the world.*” Hence, it is likely that the chariot-throne moves
more concretely back and forth to all four corners of the world and that Ezek-
iel sees this celestial movement, which is normally hidden from human view
(because it takes place above our visible world). The purpose of this movement
is not explicitly mentioned but is hinted at by the frightening eyes on the rims
of the wheels. The strange chariot-throne with its (yet to be revealed) master
cruises heaven in all directions to keep a watchful eye on everything that hap-
pens above and below, and it is this that Ezekiel, the newly appointed prophet,
becomes a witness of.
Now (the third stage) the vision moves to the area above the heads of the
creatures:

46 Some examples in Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 57.

47 Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 57.
42 Chapter 1

** an expanse (raqia'’)
(22) There was a shape (demut) over the heads of the creature,
,”® stretche d over their heads
that looked like (ke- ‘ein) dreadful ice (ha-gerah ha-nora)
their wings were extende d? one toward the other; each
above. (23) Below the expanse
as they
had two [wings] giving cover’! to his body. (24) I heard the sound of their wings
”* like the voice® of the Almight y
went like the sound of the deep sea (mayim rabbim),
(mahaneh); when
(shaddai), a sound of tumult (hamullah) like the sound of an army
still, they let their wings drop. (25) There was a sound from above the ex-
they stood
let their wings drop.*4
panse that was over their heads; when they stood still, they

The first thing Ezekiel notices is the “expanse,” for which the technical term
raqia‘ is used — a clear allusion to the “firmament” of the Creation narrative
(Gen. 1:6ff.), which divides the upper from the lower waters, that is, heaven
from earth.®> It is nowhere described in more detail in the Bible (only Dan. 12:3
knows that it is “shining,” and according to Job 37:18 the heavens are beaten out
and firm like a “mirror of cast metal”), and Ezekiel’s image of cold (gleaming?)
ice is unique. Then the gaze of the prophet goes back to the creatures below the
expanse: we have heard already that two of their wings are spread out and touch
the wings of their companions and that an additional set of wings covers their
bodies, but v. 23 makes it seem as if the outspread wings carry — or at least sup-
port — the expanse above them. One has to conclude, therefore, that the expanse
above their heads, which is supported by their wings, moves with the creatures
and their wheels.
Finally, a new element is introduced. The vision is accompanied by an audi-
tion because Ezekiel now hears something. First, he hears the sound that arises
from the beating of the creatures’ wings; it is compared to the sound of mighty
waters (a cosmic-mythical element), the sound of an army, and the voice of the
Almighty. The voice of the Almighty in particular is conspicuous: not only be-
cause God is (suddenly) mentioned at all, in addition to natural phenomena, but
also because of the use of the word “Almighty” (shaddai) for God. The precise
meaning of this archaic epithet for God is unknown, but its full form, e/ shaddai,
is used as the divine name mainly by the patriarchs in the Priestly Code.°° It is
quite clear, therefore, that Ezekiel has deliberately taken up this archaic name of

48 Again the singular hayah.

49 JPS translation: “with an awe-inspiring gleam as of crystal.” Qerah in biblical Hebrew is
“ice,” but the Septuagint translates “crystal.”
»° Lit. “straight toward.”
5! “Rach had two [wings] giving cover” is repeated twice in the Hebrew text, one phrase
clearly being a gloss.
» Lit. “many waters,” that is, mighty waters (JPS translation).
°3 The Hebrew word go/ means both “sound” and “voice.”
4 This repetition is missing in the Septuagint.
°° Block, Ezekiel, p. 101, following examples of ancient Near Eastern art, prefers the transla-
tion “platform,” but I do not think that the allusion to the firmament should be ignored.
%© Gen. 17:1, 28:3, 35:11, 43:14, 48:3; Ex. 6:3, which explicitly states that God appeared to
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as “El Shaddai”; Ez. 10:5.
 Ezekiel’s Vision 43

God from the time of the patriarchs. The God with whose voice the sound of the
wings is compared is the God of the antediluvian patriarchs.
The sound of the creatures’ wings can only be heard when they move around;
as soon as they stop, however, the prophet hears another, still faint sound from
above the expanse. Since we do not yet know what is located above the expanse,
we can only guess — and Ezekiel does not immediately satisfy our curiosity. But
this sound clearly alludes to what is to come: God’s speech to Ezekiel. Then fol-
lows the climax of the vision (stage four):
(26) Above the expanse that was over their heads was the shape (demut) of a throne
(kisse) with the appearance (ke-mar’eh) of sapphire-stone;*’ and above, on the shape
(demut) of the throne was a figure (demut)°* with the appearance (ke-mar’eh) of a
human being (adam). (27) From the appearance (mar’eh) of his loins upward I saw
the like of (ke-‘ein) hashmal, having something with the appearance (mar ’eh) of fire
surrounding it; and from the appearance (mar ’eh) of his loins downward I saw some-
thing with the appearance (mar ‘eh) of fire (esh); and he was surrounded by a radiance
(nogah). (28) Like the appearance (ke-mar ’eh) of the bow that is in the cloud on a rainy
day, such was the appearance (mar ’eh) of the surrounding radiance (nogah). That was
the appearance (mar ’eh) of the figure (demut) of the Glory of YHWH (kevod-YHWH).
When I saw it, I fell on my face. Then I heard the voice of someone speaking.

Now, with the prophet’s vision having reached its climax, the circumspect and
roundabout language increases almost unbearably. Everything that he sees does
not just become visible but has the shape (demut) and the appearance (mar eh)
of something or looks like something (ke- ‘ein). The first thing that takes shape
is a throne (therefore, the text confirms here that the creatures with their wheels
indeed carry a throne, which is located on the expanse above their heads). How-
ever, it is not just any throne but a throne with the appearance of sapphire-stone.
This again is very important information, since the sapphire immediately recalls
Ex. 24:10, where it is said that Moses, Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and the seventy
elders of Israel “saw the God of Israel: under his feet there was something like
(ke-ma ‘aseh) a sapphire-brick (Jivnat ha-sappir), like the very sky for purity.”
This notoriously difficult verse cannot be explained here in all its implications;
in our context it is essential that we have a vision of God here and that God rests
his feet on something that looks like a brick of sapphire (in fact, Ex. 24:10 is
the only verse in the Hebrew Bible, except for Ezekiel, that connects a vision of
God in heaven with a sapphire stone).* The only difference seems to be that in

“Hebrew
57 Block, Ezekiel, p. 102, with n. 89, translates “lapis lazuli” and cautions:
this stone was
sappir ... Should not be confused with modern sapphire (blue corundum), since
scarcely known in ancient times.”
58 | translate demut here with “figure” because it is the form of a human being.
to and cor-
59 Ezkiel’s “sapphire-stone” (even-sappir) seems to be a deliberate reference
(/ivnat ha-sappir) in Exodus. This is not to say that
rection of the enigmatic “sapphire-brick”
had the text of the Torah available, but he may well have been aware of the tradition
Ezekiel
reflected in Ex. 24.
44 Chapter 1

Exodus the sapphire is the foundation on which God’s throne stands, whereas in
Ezekiel the throne itself is made of sapphire. Moreover, God on his throne is evi-
dently located in heaven, above Mount Sinai. So we have here in Ezekiel again
an allusion to the time of the patriarchs, before the erection of the Tabernacle
(let alone the Temple) and before the giving of the Torah. God sits enthroned in
heaven, not in the Temple, and the prophet(s) can see him in a vision.
What does God look like? Ezekiel is here particularly circumspect: he sees a
figure that appeared to him like a human being — but a human being it was: the
word adam is unambiguous. In fact, Ezekiel is the only biblical author who uses
this word in connection with God. To be sure, the Bible takes it for granted that
God is of human form.” The creation story tells us that, when God created “man”
(adam), he created “him” in the “image” (tzelem) and “likeness/shape” (demut)
of God, using the same word (demut) as Ezekiel, which fluctuates between “like-
ness,” “shape,” and “figure” (Gen. 1:26f.). Hence, if “man” is created in the
“likeness” of God, it is only fair to conclude that God looks like “man” (adam),°!
and this is precisely what Ezekiel does. But it is a conclusion that nobody had the
courage to state expressly hitherto. Ezekiel’s fellow prophets clearly perceived
a human figure when they saw God, but none of them elaborates on this. Amos,
for example, sees God standing on a wall, holding a plumb line in his hands
(Amos 7:7); similarly, he sees God standing by an altar (Amos 9:1), obviously in
the Temple. Hence, he must be of human shape — but this can be inferred by im-
plication only and is not the main message that Amos wishes to convey. The same
holds true for Jeremiah, whose mouth is touched by God’s hand (Jer. 1:9): the
message is not that God is of human shape and has a hand but that God puts his
words into Jeremiah’s mouth and that he is appointed prophet through this ges-
ture. Closer to Ezekiel’s vision is that of his predecessor, Isaiah, who describes
God as sitting on a “high and lofty throne” with the skirts of his robe filling the
Temple (Isa. 6:1). If God has a robe, it is again fair to assume that he is of human
shape, but this insight is certainly not at the center of Isaiah’s vision.”
Apart from Ezekiel, the only biblical texts that show some interest in the
physical shape of God are Exodus, chapter 33, and Daniel, chapter 7. Daniel,
Ezekiel’s much later fellow prophet, has a dream and sees a vision while lying
on his bed — a far cry from Ezekiel’s dramatically opening heavens. Among
other things, he sees that thrones are set in place and that the “Ancient of Days”
(‘atiq yomin) takes a seat (Dan. 7:9). That this “Ancient of Days” is physically
%° Despite passages such as Deut. 4:15 (contradicted by Num. 12:8) and Isa. 40:18, 25, and
despite the so-called aniconic tradition of the Jewish religion.
°! The matter is further complicated by the fact that Gen. 1:27 goes on to state that God cre-
ated “man” not just in his own image, but also both male and female. The far-reaching implica-
tions of this bold statement come to the surface only much later, in the Kabbalah.
it Like Isaiah, Micah sees God “seated upon his throne, with all the host of heaven stand-
ing in attendance to the right and to the left of him” (1 Kings 22:19), but there is even not
an
allusion to God’s physical shape.
 Ezekiel’s Vision 45

an old man becomes clear when he is further described as having hair the color
of pure lamb’s wool. The text does not explicitly state who the old man on his
throne is, but there can be no doubt that he is God: his throne is blazing fire and
has wheels, just like Ezekiel’s throne, and hosts of angels serve him. So God
does indeed look like a human being, although it is never expressly stated that he
looks like a man. Interestingly enough, however, the enigmatic figure that pays
him a courtesy visit is described as someone “like a human being/man” (ke-bar
enash: the Aramaic equivalent of ke-ben adam); hence, according to Daniel,
God himself and his mysterious visitor — who here starts his career as the “Son
of Man” — are of human shape.
And there is Ezekiel’s most distinguished predecessor, Moses, whose encoun-
ter with God in Ex. 33 is the climax of several earlier attempts. At first, God
“appears” to him in a “blazing fire” out of a thornbush, and when the curious
Moses wishes to have a closer look at why the burning bush is not consumed,
God’s voice calls out from the bush and tells him to come no closer, and then
reveals himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Immediately, Moses
“hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God” (Ex. 3:2—6). The clear message
is that God can be heard but not seen. The second encounter is on Mount Sinai
(Ex., chs. 19f.) where God descends (yarad) in a “thick cloud” (‘av he-‘anan,
‘anan kaved, ‘arafel) and in “fire” to meet Moses there and talk to him. Both the
cloud and the fire are, of course, strongly reminiscent of the beginning of Ezek-
iel’s vision. More dramatically than in Ezekiel, however, God’s appearance here
is also accompanied by “thunder,” “lightning,” “‘a very loud blast of the horn,”
and “smoke.” The people can see all these visible signs of God’s coming down
to Mount Sinai and, most important, they can hear God and Moses talking to
each other (19:9); but they don’t want God to speak to them directly (20:16).
Moses, on the other hand, obviously hears God, but the text says nothing about
him seeing God. God calls Moses to the top of the mountain (19:20) and Moses
follows his command, but that’s it. The closest the text comes to describing the
physical encounter between God and Moses is the laconic statement toward the
end (20:18) that “Moses approached the thick cloud (nigash el ha-‘arafel) where
God was (asher-sham ha-’elohim)’ —he approaches the cloud in which God is
hidden, but he does not enter it and therefore does not see him. Moreover, the
final explanation (20:19) that God was speaking “from the very heaven” (min ha-
shamayim) may indicate that the “thick cloud” did not actually alight on Mount
Sinai but hovered above it. Hence, the circumstances of Moses’s and Ezekiel’s
vision are quite similar (in fact, it appears as if Ezekiel’s vision is shaped, at least
in part, according to the theophany on Mount Sinai), but with the major differ-
ence that Ezekiel takes the next step and sees as well as describes the figure that
is surrounded by the cloud.
Finally, the third major and most detailed encounter between God and Moses
is described in Ex. 33. The setting this time is the “Tabernacle” or “Tent” (ohel
46 Chapter 1

mo ‘ed) in the wilderness. Whenever Moses visits the Tent, a pillar of cloud de-
scends to guard the entrance of the Tent while God speaks with him in the Tent
(Ex. 33:9). Although God would speak to Moses “face to face (panim el panim),
as one man (ish) speaks to another” (v. 11), the text makes it absolutely clear that
Moses does not actually see God; the emphasis is unambiguously on the audi-
tory and not on the visionary communication. When he bids God, “Show me
your Glory (kevodekha),” God gives a complicated response, leaving no doubt
that Moses cannot see him.
God first promises him that he will make his “beauty” (twv)® pass before
him; in other words, he himself in all his kavod and tuv will actually pass be-
fore him. This is followed by the pledge that he will proclaim before him the
name “Lord” (presumably to assure him that the figure that passes before him
is indeed God), as well as the grace that he will grant him and the compassion
he will show him. In other words, God’s passing before Moses is an act of be-
nevolence. However, as God immediately adds, Moses should not mistake this
divine performance for actually seeing him: “But you cannot see my face, for
man (adam) may not see me and live” (v. 20). God then tells Moses that there
is a place close to him (magom ’itti), namely, a rock, on which Moses should
station himself. When his Glory (kavod) passes by, he will put Moses in a cleft
of the rock: “And I will shield you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I
will take my hand away and you will see my back (ahori), but my face (panai)
must not be seen!” (vv. 22 f.).
This is the closest to God Moses can get. Hidden and shielded in a cleft of a
rock, he “sees” God pass by — but in fact he does not see very much, because at
the precise moment of passing God shields him with his hand (which can only
mean that he covers the opening of the cleft with his hand); only after he has
passed by the cleft does he allow Moses to see the “back” of his shape. From this
it can be concluded that God is indeed of human shape, because he has not only
a “face” and “hands” but also a “back” (a bluntly anthropomorphic statement
of the Hebrew Bible that would later trouble a great many exegetes). But this
conclusion is communicated only in passing, as it were. That God is of human
shape can be inferred from the story, yet this is not its main message. Rather,
the real message is clearly that God cannot be seen and that a human being who
sees God must die. Hence, like the other major stories about Moses’s encounter
with God, this most elaborated narrative reinforces what we have been told time
and again: that Moses, like any other human being, could not see God — although
he desperately wanted to.™ This result, in turn, makes Ezekiel’s undertaking all

°° The noun tuv most likely means here the “beauty” and the “glory” of God, and not (liter-
ally) his “goodness” (JPS translation); hence, it would seem to be synonymous with kavod.
°4 A remake of Moses’s encounter with God in Ex. 33 is Elijah’s encounter on Mount Horeb:
Elij ah stands in a cave on Mount Horeb and God passes by, not in the “great and mighty wind,”
not in the “earthquake,” not in the “fire,” but in the “soft murmuring sound” (gol demamah
 Ezekiel’s Vision 47

the more striking. His vision of God in human shape — as vague and veiled as it
remains — and seated on his throne reads like a deliberate counter-narrative to
Moses’s aborted vision. Ezekiel is the new Moses, who has seen more of God
than Moses and any of his predecessors.
The details that Ezekiel communicates about the human-like figure bear little
resemblance to an ordinary man. We learn that the figure has “loins,” but these
loins are mainly introduced in order to distinguish between the appearance of
the upper and the lower parts of the figure: whereas the upper part looks like
hashmal surrounded by fire, the lower part looks like plain fire. This is imme-
diately reminiscent of the beginning of the vision (v. 4), in which the hashmal
appears out of the fire. Now the vision becomes clearer: the division between
the upper and the lower parts of the figure obviously indicates two different de-
grees of brightness. The hashmal of the upper part seems to be of a brighter and
stronger brightness than the plain fire of the lower part. It is possible that the
less intense brightness of the lower part of the divine body is caused by a robe
that covers it.® In any case, the entire figure is enclosed in a radiance (nogah)
that was mentioned at the beginning as well (v. 4). The overwhelming impres-
sion of this human-like figure is that of radiating fire: God’s body is of human
shape, but its essence is fire.
Then, quite unexpectedly, the radiance emanating from the divine figure is
compared to “the bow that is in the cloud on a rainy day,” the rainbow. The signi-
ficance of this comparison has gone unnoticed by most modern commentators.
It is no doubt a deliberate allusion to Gen. 9:12 f., where God sets his bow in the
clouds as a sign of the covenant between him and his people.®’ The rainbow in
Genesis was the visible sign of the covenant between God and humankind fol-
lowing the deluge, and now, after the anticipated destruction of the Temple, the
priest Ezekiel refers back to this priestly tradition.This is yet another intentional
recourse to the pre-Temple, patriarchal period: just as the rainbow after the catas-
trophe of the deluge sets the seal on a new period of salvation, so too the rainbow
after the catastrophe of the destruction of the Temple inaugurates a new period of
hope for the people of Israel. Ezekiel’s vision of God in human shape, radiating

dagqah). When Elijah hears the “soft murmuring sound” he covers his face, stands in the en-
trance of the cave and hears the voice of God addressing him (1 Kings 19:11 ff.). Like Moses,
Elijah cannot see God but hears only his voice; unlike Moses, he knows this and covers his
face. See Frank Moore Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History of the
Religion of Israel (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1973), p. 166.
6 Suggested by Fohrer, Ezechiel, p. 14.
66 Anexception is Ernst Vogt, Untersuchungen zum Buch Ezechiel (Rome: Biblical Institute
Press, 1981), p. 11. Martha Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven in Jewish and Christian Apocalypses
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), pp. 19f., suggests that the rainbow might be un-
derstood as part of a depiction of the figure on the throne in priestly terms.
67 The phrasing is very similar: et gashti natati be-‘anan (Gen.) versus ha-qeshet asher
yihyeh ve-‘anan (Ezek.).
48 Chapter 1

in bright colors like a rainbow, claims that ultimately nothing is lost. Not only
does the reassuring rainbow once more appear in the clouds of heaven, but this
time God makes himself visible, encased in the rainbow’s radiance.
The concluding sentence — “That was the appearance of the figure of the Glory
(kavod) of YHWH” - reaffirms that Ezekiel has indeed seen God. The term
kavod is frequent in the Hebrew Bible and is also used for the visible manifesta-
tion of God, in particular in the Tabernacle® and in the Temple.® In most cases
the kavod is said to be hidden in a cloud, and nowhere is mention made of its
physical appearance; only Ezek. 1,” and indeed Ex. 33, revealing itself more and
more as a precursor and model of Ezek. 1, identify the kavod with a human-like
figure. But whereas Moses is desperate to get a closer look at the actual shape
of God’s figure and is denied his request, Ezekiel, who made no such requests,
is granted his unexpected vision of God. The appropriate response to this over-
whelming experience can only be that the prophet throw himself down before
the kavod of his God.
In what follows, the vision turns into an audition. What already announced
itself in v. 25 now comes true: the figure seated on the throne above the heads
of the four creatures speaks to Ezekiel (Ezek. 1:28-3:15). God reveals to him
that he appoints him prophet and sends him to his rebellious people, who will,
however, be stubborn and refuse to listen to him. So as to prepare Ezekiel for
his mission, God makes him eat a scroll on which is written everything that God
has ordered to be conveyed to the people of Israel (the scroll is put into Ezekiel’s
mouth by a “hand that was sent forth toward me,” another indication of the an-
thropomorphic shape of the divine figure). Twice, at the beginning and end of
the audition, God impresses upon his newly appointed prophet that he must
speak to the people with the full authority of his prophetical mission, whether
they listen to him or not: “Thus said the Lord YHWH” (2:4, 3:11). Then God
disappears (3:12—15):
A wind"" lifted me and I heard behind me a great roaring noise — “Blessed be the Glory
of YHWH from its place (mimgomo)” — (13) the noise of the creatures’ wings beating
against one another, and the noise of the wheels alongside them, a great roaring noise.
(14) A wind lifted me and took me, and I went, bitter, my spirit raging, overpowered
by the hand of YHWH.” (15) I came to the exiles at Tel Aviv, who were living by
the Chebar canal and, where they were living, there I sat seven days, desolate among
them.

8 Ex. 40:34f.;Lev. 9:23; Num. 14:10, 16:19.

® 1 Kings 8:11; 2 Chron. 7:1.
7° In Ezek. 3:23 Ezekiel stands in a valley before the Glory of God, “like the Glory I had
seen at the Chebar canal,” and in 8:4 the glory appears again, “like the vision that I had seen
in the valley”; in chapter 10, the remake of chapter 1, the “radiance” (nogah) of the Glory is
mentioned again.
7 Or “spirit” (ruah).
” Lit. “with the hand of YHWH strong upon me.”
 Ezekiel’s Vision 49

God’s and Ezekiel’s departure coincide, or, more precisely, God terminates the
vision by raising Ezekiel up so as to bring him back to the community of exiles,
and, lifted up by a wind to heaven, Ezekiel hears behind him the noise of the
creatures and their wheels, indicating the departure of God. He does not actually
see God disappear; he simply hears the noise of his departing chariot. Ironically,
Ezekiel is lifted up to heaven when the vision is finished, not during the vision.
This once again underscores the distance that is kept between God and Ezek-
iel during the vision: when God appears to him in the open heaven, the prophet
remains on earth and is not elevated to heaven. He can see God, but he is not
invited to get physically close to him.
The phrase “Blessed be the Glory of YHWH from its place (mimgomo)” is
an exegetical crux. In the present Hebrew text it appears as a doxology, most
likely from the four creatures, “a salute to the departing Majesty.”’? The main
philological problem of this doxology is the awkward mimgomo, literally — as
translated above — “from its [the Glory’s] place.” The suggestion, first made
by scholars of the nineteenth century,” that barukh (“blessed”) is corrupt and
should be corrected to berum (“I heard behind me a great roaring noise, when
the Glory of YHWH rose from its place”) makes for a much smoother reading
but is clearly the Jectio facilior and hence not very likely. The Targum translates
the phrase as “Blessed be the Glory of the Lord from the place of the house of
his Shekhinah,”” thus “solving” the problem by reading into it what it definitely
does not want to say: that the Glory of the Lord is praised in the Temple (which
is the standard opinion). However, the opposite seems to be the true meaning of
the phrase, namely, that God’s Glory is blessed wherever it is, even if it is not in
the Temple. The Temple no longer exists, but God’s Glory can nevertheless be
seen and praised. I therefore agree with what was apparently first suggested by
Martin Buber,” namely, that God can be praised here and now (in exile) in the
same manner as he was once praised from Zion (which is now destroyed). The
once fixed place (for God’s presence and the appropriate praise) in the Temple
has given way to the open space in heaven.
The vision leaves Ezekiel with two feelings. He is “overpowered” by the hand
of God, a reference to the ecstatic experience mentioned first in v. 3; and he is
“bitter,” spending seven distressful days among his fellow exiles, until God ad-
dresses him again and reminds him of his mission (3:16 ff.). The bitterness may

73 Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 70.

David
74 Ferdinand Hitzig, Der Prophet Ezechiel (Leipzig: Weidmann, 1874); Samuel
(Lemberg: A.I.
Luzzatto, Erlduterungen iiber einen Theil der Propheten und Hagiographen
70; Block, Ezekiel, p. 132,
Menkes, 1876, in Hebrew); and see Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p.
with n. 1, pp. 134f.
BTj Ezek, 3:12.
I do not see any ne-
76 Martin Buber, “Zu Jecheskel 3:12,” MGWJ 78 (1934), pp. 471-474.
however, to put this insight into the mouth of Ezekiel himself; it makes sense, too, if it
cessity,
is uttered by the four creatures and heard by Ezekiel.
50 Chapter 1

well be a reflection of God’s bitterness toward his people and of Ezekiel’s own
feelings with regard to the task imposed on him by God.” In any case, he returns
to the community of exiles and abides there in silence without immediately re-
vealing his new status.
To conclude and to summarize what has been observed so far: what then is
the purpose of the vision and the message it wishes to convey? To begin with, as
I have already emphasized, like many other prophetical visions it is a “call vi-
sion’: through the vision God appoints Ezekiel his chosen prophet. Since there
often exists a tension or even contradiction between the call and the expecta-
tions of the people or the ruling class, the vision serves as the divine approval
of the prophet’s views, which oppose those of the majority of the people. This is
explicitly the case with Moses on Mount Sinai, when God promises him, “I will
come to you in a thick cloud, in order that the people may hear when I speak with
you and so trust you ever after” (Ex. 19:9). Likewise, when God starts speak-
ing to Ezekiel after the vision in chapter 1, he admonishes him again and again
to repeat his words to them, “whether they listen or not, for they are rebellious”
(Ezek. 2:7); he even prepares him for the possibility that they “will refuse to lis-
ten to you, for they refuse to listen to me” (3:7). According to Moshe Greenberg,
this divine confirmation of Ezekiel’s prophetical task is the gist of the vision:
“Distressed by his people’s fate, convinced of impending doom, Ezekiel was cast
out by his community, which clung to the hopeful oracles of the prophets prom-
ising the exiles a speedy restoration to their homeland. ... By way of response,
and in accord with traditional imagery, the heavens opened and the Majesty of
God appeared, vindicating the nonconformist and proving that right and divine
favor were with him, not with the many.”78
Within the narrative strategy of the book this is certainly one of the vision’s
more important aspects, but I do not think that such a minimalist reading does
justice to its complexity. I therefore agree with the widespread view that it is the
aim of the vision to confirm that neither God nor his revelation is bound to the
land of Israel: God does reveal himself to his chosen prophet outside the land
of Israel, in unclean foreign land.”? But it is much more than that. The archaic
imagery used in the description of the chariot and God residing above the raqia‘
points to a worldview before the erection of the Tabernacle in the wilderness and
the building of the Temple in Jerusalem. The God who appears to Ezekiel is the
God of the patriarchs, the God of the cosmos, who is not (yet) confined to the

” Pace Greenberg, Ezekiel I-20, p. 71, I do not see this as an alternative; Block, Ezekiel,
p. 137, emphasizes “the divine imposition on his [Ezekiel’s] life and the implications of Yah-
weh’s commission for him.”
’8 Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20, p. 80.
® Fohrer, Ezechiel, pp. 14-16; Vogt, Untersuchungen zum Buch Ezechiel, pp. 12, 25;
Walther Zimmerli, Ezekiel 1: 4 Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, Chapters 1-24
(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979), p. 140.
 Ezekiel 's Vision 51

boundaries of the Temple. To be sure, the Jerusalem Temple is not yet destroyed
when Ezekiel sees his vision of God as observer and ruler of the entire cosmos
(in 592 BCE), but it will be destroyed soon (in 586 BCE), and it is one of the major
tasks of the newly appointed prophet to announce the destruction of the Tem-
ple.®° The vision anticipates what will happen soon, and its message is therefore
not only that God reveals himself even outside the land of Israel but that God
reveals himself outside the Temple. God does not need the Temple to reveal him-
self after the destruction of the Temple, just as he did not need the Temple in the
dim and distant past of the patriarchs. The cosmos is his Temple.
This is not to say that the Temple is superfluous according to Ezekiel. On the
contrary, his book climaxes in announcing the construction of the new Temple
(chs. 40-48). But this new Temple is the eschatological Temple, the Temple at
the end of time, when Israel will live in peace and happiness again. The same
Glory (kavod) of God that he saw in his vision at the Chebar canal will enter the
newly built Temple (Ezek. 43:3); God will take his place in the Temple again.
In the meantime we must resort to the pre-Temple period of the patriarchs, to
the God who inhabits the entire cosmos — and who can be seen in the vault of
heaven. This, I maintain, is the meaning of the enigmatic phrase in Ezek. 11:16,
where God assures the exiles: “Thus said the Lord YHWH: Though I have re-
moved them far among the nations and though I have scattered them among the
countries, I have become to them a small sanctuary (migdash me ‘at) in the coun-
tries into which they have come.”®! God himself, when he manifests himself in
the open heavens, has become a “small sanctuary” to the people of Israel dur-
ing their exile, during that time when the Temple is destroyed. God is no longer
bound to the land of Israel, as the inhabitants of Jerusalem claim (v. 15), and to
the Temple in Jerusalem; wherever he is, the Temple is with him. To be sure, the
Temple will be rebuilt, and God will then return to his Temple, but for the time
being he is his own Temple — a “small sanctuary,” a substitute.* But what better
substitute could there be for the Temple than God himself?*
aban-
80 Tn fact, as Martha Himmelfarb has pointed out (Ascent to Heaven, p. 12), God has
doned the Temple for a chariot even before the destruction of the Temple.
of the sentence
81 | interpret “I have become to them a small sanctuary” as the main clause
the next verses (“Though
and don’t regard the sentence as incomplete with the resolution in
as Greenberg, Ezekiel 1-20,
I have removed them ... I will gather you from the peoples ...”)
e such a translatio n, which is actually
p. 190, suggests. The Hebrew syntax does not necessitat
meant to downplay the importanc e of the “small sanctuary. ”
could be interpreted adjec-
82 Block, Ezekiel, p. 350, emphasizes the ambiguity of me ‘at: “It
viz., ‘a little sanctuary ’ ... However, the expressi on may also be [understood] adverbi-
tivally,
duration of the exile, or quali-
ally, either temporally, ‘for a little while,’ hinting at the limited
solve the problem of why God
tatively, ‘to a limited extent.’”” The adverbial interpretation may
. The adjectiva l reading doesn’t make much sense, since one would
is called a small sanctuary
God expect to be a greater one than the physical Temple.
any roughness and flavor of the
83 The JPS translation, in its usual tendency to smooth out
as “sanctit y” (“I have become to them a diminished sanc-
original Hebrew, translates miqdash
52 Chapter I

Finally, how does the vision with audition affect Ezekiel the new prophet?
Here, as we have seen, the text is very restrained. Ezekiel appears as the pas-
sive “victim” of the hand of God, which is strongly imposed on him (vv. 1:3 and
3:14). It is clear that the main reason for this procedure is to single him out as
God’s chosen prophet, a “favor” to which he responds only reluctantly and un-
willingly (v. 14). But it must remain an open question as to whether God’s hand
upon him also transforms his state of mind and induces some kind of ecstatic
experience, as I have considered above. The emphasis is on the overpowering
violence of the experience, not so much on the seer’s spiritual, let alone physi-
cal, transformation. In this regard Ezekiel remains still far from the process of
spiritual and physical transformation as depicted in the later apocalypses, but one
can see how he paves the way for such more elaborate descriptions.

sep as iethe era were gedushah. This is a perfect example

of replacing one evil with
another, because the idea of God as a “diminished sanctity” is much worse than
th i
God as the substitute for the Jerusalem Temple. 2 vane tiie
 Chapter 2

Enoch.and His Circle

Ascent to Heaven

When the heavens opened for the prophet Ezekiel, he had a vision of God seated
on his chariot, which assured him that God was still there, in heaven, despite
the imminent destruction of the Temple, God’s chosen place on earth. This was
consolation enough for the prophet; he made no attempt to get closer to God and
enter heaven. In fact, nowhere in the Hebrew Bible is the gap between heaven
and earth bridged in such a way that a human being leaves his place on earth and
explores heaven. This experience is left to the postbiblical apocalyptic literature,
in particular to the so-called ascent apocalypses that originated in the circle gath-
ered around the patriarch Enoch.

The Book of the Watchers (1 Enoch 1-36)

Enoch is the biblical hero to whom the first ascent to heaven is attributed. The
Bible does not tell us much about him, just that he was one of the descendants
of Adam’s third son Seth, who was born after the murder of Cain: Enoch was
the son of Jared and the father of Methuselah and died at the age of 365 years,
considerably younger than his ancestors and his son Methuselah or his grand-
son Lamech, the father of Noah (Gen. 5). This deviation in age is coupled with
a strange deviation in the description of his “short” life. Whereas the pattern in
such
the case of all his ancestors and descendants is “When so and so had lived
he lived
and such many years, he begot so and so; after the birth of so and so
days of so
for such and such (more) years and begot sons and daughters, all the
case of Enoch
and so came to such and such many years; then he died,” in the
(Gen. 5:21—24) the text reads:
the birth of Methu-
When Enoch had lived sixty-five years, he begot Methuselah. After
walked with God (wa-yithale kh Hanokh et-ha-’eloh im) for (another) 300
selah, Enoch
of Enoch came to 365 years. Enoch
years and begot sons and daughters. All the days
Hanokh et-ha- ’elohim); then he was no more (we-
walked with God (wa-yithalekh
‘enennu), for God had taken him away (ki-lagah oto elohim).
“live” for a certain
The major differences are, first, that Enoch did not just
and second, that he did not simply
amount of years but “walked with God,”
54 Chapter 2

“die” but “was no more,” because God “had taken him away,” presumably while
walking with him.
These few enigmatic sentences in the Hebrew Bible became the springboard
for much speculation in the postbiblical Jewish and (later) Christian literature.!
If the Bible emphasizes twice that Enoch walked with God, we must conclude
that he was not only the privileged favorite of God among his fellow patriarchs
(because he lived an exceptionally ethical life) — and this may well have been the
reason why God took him away so early — but also that he was physically, in the
literal sense of the word, walking with God. Since, after the expulsion from para-
dise, God no longer walks with human beings on earth, Enoch’s walking with
God could only have taken place in heaven. Hence, Enoch must have ascended
to heaven to visit God, and at the relatively young age (in comparison to his fel-
low patriarchs) of 365 years he did not return but stayed with God in heaven.
This is what we can deduce from the short biblical narrative of Enoch’s ex-
traordinary life. The first text to expound and expand on the biblical Vorlage is
the “Book of the Watchers” (1 En. 1-36), one of the earliest originally independ-
ent works constituting the so-called Ethiopic book of Enoch. It dates from the
late third or the first quarter of the second century BCE? and is itself a compo-
site text with five discrete units (1 En. 1-5, 6-11, 12-16, 17-19, and 20-36).
Whereas the first unit (1-5) serves as an introduction, the second — and prob-
ably oldest — unit (6-11) establishes a major theme of the Book of the Watch-
ers, namely, the story of the fallen angels, which originates from the narrative
in Gen. 6:1—4. From the Bible we only learn that the “Sons of God” (benei ha-
‘elohim), usually understood as angels, saw how beautiful the daughters of men
were on earth and that they took wives from among them. Their offspring are
called Nefilim (the Hebrew root nafal means “fall,” hence the “fallen” angels)
and are identified as the “heroes (gibborim) of old, the men of renown (anshei
ha-shem).” God apparently disapproves of this miscegenation and reduces the
life span of humanity to 120 years.
This brief and by no means unambiguous biblical text is developed into a
much broader narrative in the Book of the Watchers (1 En. 6-11). Here the

' On this, see recently Philip S. Alexander, “The Enochic Literature and the Bible: Intertex-
tuality and Its Implications,” in Edward D. Herbert and Emanuel Toy, eds., The Bible as Book:
The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert Discoveries (London: British Library and Oak Knoll
Press, 2002), pp. 57-69.
* See James C. VanderKam, Enoch and the Growth of an Apocalyptic Tradition (Washing-
ton, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1984), p. 114 (“a paleographically deter-
mined terminus ad quem of ca. 200 or slightly later is reasonably certain, but there is no firm
evidence that would allow one to specify a terminus a quo. It is possible and indeed likely that
the BW is a third-century composition; it is almost certain that it is pre-Maccabean’”’); Himmel-
farb, Ascent to Heaven, pp. 5, 10.
> I follow here the useful summary in chapter 1 of Annette Yoshiko Reed, Fallen Angels
and the History of Judaism and Christianity: The Reception of Enochic Literature (New
York:
Cambridge University Press, 2005).
 Enoch and His Circle 55

“Sons of God” are a whole gang of angels who take an oath not only to seduce
the daughters of men but also to teach them all kinds of hidden wisdom (among
other things the art of warfare and cosmetics); the children they beget, the Ne-
filim from Genesis, here called “great giants,” turn against the people and ani-
mals of earth and devour them greedily and relentlessly. These horrible events
and the pleading of the people on.earth do not go unnoticed by the remaining
angels in heaven. They bring the case before God, who condemns the fallen an-
gels and their offspring to everlasting damnation. Only Noah will be saved from
the imminent judgment (the deluge).
In this first account of what happened with the fallen angels Enoch plays no
role; he is not even mentioned. This is hardly the case in the second account,
the unit 1 En. 12-16.4 Here Enoch is the hero and serves as mediator between
the angels in heaven and the fallen angels on earth (both are called “Watchers”
now). The very beginning of the unit addresses the problem of Enoch’s where-
abouts, which remain so mysterious in the Bible and are only hinted at. The
Book of the Watchers knows precisely where he is: “And before these things
Enoch was taken up, and none of the children of men knew where he had been
taken up, or where he was or what had happened to him. But his dealings were
with the watchers, with the holy ones, in his days” (12:1—2).° Since Enoch lived
before all the dreadful things related in the preceding unit (Noah was his great-
grandson), he was indeed taken up into heaven. It was only his earthly life that
accounted for his 365 years; after this he continued his life in heaven among the
angels. Now the Watchers that remained in heaven ask Enoch to announce the
divine judgment to the Watchers who have abandoned heaven (ch. 12). He duly
follows this request and descends to that place on earth where the Watchers are
gathered, Mount Hermon. When they hear what their fate is to be they beg Enoch
to bring their petition for forgiveness to God. Reading the memorandum of their
requests, he falls asleep, and in his dreams has a vision that makes clear there
won’t be any forgiveness for the fallen Watchers (ch. 13).
opens
The following chapter (14) presents Enoch’s vision of God in heaven. It
when
with a solemn introduction that reaffirms that Enoch saw all this ina vision
the
he was asleep, and then it summarizes the verdict: although he wrote down
the vision he is about to communi cate revealed
petition of the fallen Watchers,
be able
to him that their petition will not be granted in eternity, they will never

A. Newsom, “The Devel-

4 For a literary analysis of the narrative in this section, see Carol
42 (1980), pp. 310-329; George
opment of / Enoch 6-19: Cosmology and Judgment,” CBQ
/ Enoch 1; A Comment ary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1-36, 81-108
W.E. Nickelsburg,
(Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2001), pp. 229 ff.
A New English Edition, with
5 Translation according to The Book of Enoch or 1 Enoch:
Matthew Black, in consulta tion with James C. Vanderkam
commentary and textual notes by
tic text (p. XII). See also Nickels-
(Leiden: Brill, 1985). Italics indicate an emended or problema
burg, / Enoch 1.
56 Chapter 2

to ascend to heaven again but will remain imprisoned inside the earth forever
(14:5). And then follows the vision itself:
(8) And it was shown to me thus in a vision: Behold! clouds were calling me in my
vision, and dark clouds were crying out to me; fireballs and lightnings were hastening
me on and driving me, and winds, in my vision, were bearing me aloft, and they raised
me upwards and carried and brought me into the heavens.

It has long been observed that Enoch’s vision is to a large degree informed by
Ezekiel.® The clouds and lightnings are immediately reminiscent of Ezekiel’s
“large cloud and flashing fire’; the “dark clouds” are literally “mist” or “fog”
(homichlai, in the Greek translation)’ and may well refer to the “thick cloud”
or “mist” in Ex. 19f. But whereas the cloud and flashing fire in Ezekiel 1 de-
scend from above toward the prophet-seer, who remains on earth, the clouds
and fireballs in 1 Enoch draw him upward and carry him from earth to heaven.
This dramatically staged movement from low to high comes as a surprise in the
wider context of the Book of the Watchers, since Enoch had just come down
from heaven in order to meet the fallen Watchers on earth, and he actually needs
no vision to see God, because his true place is in heaven anyhow. But it makes
sense in contrast to Ezekiel’s vision and clearly wishes to emphasize that Enoch,
the original human being, moves freely between earth and heaven, whereas
the Watchers, the original spiritual beings, are explicitly forbidden to ascend
to heaven again and thus remain earthbound. What Enoch concretely sees in
heaven is related in several stages (again not unlike Ezekiel):
(9) And I went in till I drew near to a wall, built of hailstones, with tongues of fire sur-
rounding it on all sides; and it began to terrify me. (10) And I entered into the tongues
of fire and drew near to a large house built of hailstones; and the walls of the house
were like tesselated paving stones, all of snow, and its floor was of snow. (1 1) Its upper
storeys were, as if it were, fireballs and lightnings, and in the midst of them (were) fiery
Cherubim, celestial watchers.’ (12) And a flaming fire was around all its walls, and its
doors were ablaze with fire. (13) And I entered into that house, and it was hot as fire and
cold as snow; and there were no delights in it;? horror overwhelmed me, and trembling
took hold of me. (14) And shaking and trembling, I fell on my face.

The first thing Enoch espies in heaven is a huge wall that, as becomes immedi-
ately clear, shields and apparently surrounds a large house. Thus, what he ap-
proaches is an architectural structure similar to buildings on earth. Different

° See Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, pp. 10 ff.

7 Black, 1 Enoch, p. 146.
* Another possibility: “and their heaven [was like] water”; see Michael A. Knibb,
in con-
sultation with Edward Ullendorf, The Ethiopic Book of Enoch: A New Edition
in the Light of
the Aramaic Dead Sea Fragments, vol. 2: Introduction, Translation and Commentar
y (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1978), p. 98; Nickelsburg, J Enoch 1, p. 257; Black,
J Enoch, p. 147, suggests
that the text is corrupt and proposes to read ‘irei shemaya.
* Nickelsburg, / Enoch 1, p. 257: “no delight of life was in it.”
 Enoch and His Circle 57

from any building familiar to a human being, however, is its wall built of hail-
stones and surrounded by fire (the “tongues of fire” seem to literally “lick” at
the hailstones without consuming them). This strange image of opposing natural
forces coexisting with each other is repeated in the house behind the wall. Its
walls are built of hailstones or snow and are surrounded by “flaming fire” (v. 12).
Moreover, the upper stories of the house are completely of fire; hence, the fiery
upper part of the building rests on snow — again without consuming it, because
otherwise the house would collapse (what it obviously does not do).
The hailstones or snow!® are reminiscent of Ezekiel’s “dreadful ice” (ha-qge-
rah ha-nora) of which the “expanse” above the heads of the creatures consisted
(Ezek. 1:22) — although a different word is used (in Hebrew “hailstones” are
avnei barad) — but there is no miraculous coexistence of ice and fire in Ezekiel
(unless one wishes to see a similar image in the fire emanating from the creatures
below the expanse of ice and from the figure seated on the throne above it). In
any case, the dramatic juxtaposition of ice and fire in the building structure of
the surrounding wall and the house itself is of major importance in Enoch’s vi-
sion. Accordingly, the house that Enoch enters is simultaneously hot and cold
(v. 13). [know of no other passage, certainly not in the Hebrew Bible, wherein a
similar architectural structure consisting of opposite elements is described.'! The
only parallel that comes to mind is the much later rabbinic tradition (in the name
of R. Shim‘on b. Yohai),!2 which marvels at the fact that the firmament (which
consists of water) and the stars (which consist of fire) “live together and do not
hurt each other”;!? another rabbi!* adds that even the angels consist of half water
and half fire and do not hurt each other! (this is, of course, an almost ironical
reversal of the traditional view that the angels are created of fire)."°
Another reference to Ezekiel is, most likely, the cherubs (v. 11). The author
of the Book of the Watchers knew, of course, the identification of the four crea-
tures in Ezek. 1 with the cherubs in Ezek. 10, and he may well have preferred
the more common name keruvim instead of the unique and mysterious hayyot.
Also, the connection of the cherubs with water in some manuscripts may hint
the same
10 Knibb, The Ethiopic Book of Enoch, p..98 (on 14:10), points out that in Ethiopic,
word is used for “hail” and “snow.”
but still not
11 The Bible does know the phenomenon, however, of something that is burning
consumed by the fire: Moses’s burning bush in the desert (Exe322):
12 A Tanna of the third-generation Usha period, after the Bar Kokhba war.
13. The biblical proof-text for this is Job 25:2: “he imposes peace in his heights.”
fourth cen-
14 R. Abun/Bun = R. Abin I, the fourth-generation Palestinian Amora (early
Synopse zum Tal-
? y Rosh ha-Shanah 2:5/2 (Peter Schafer and Hans-Jiirgen Becker, eds.,
mud Yerushalmi, vol. /5—12: Ordnung Mo ‘ed: Traktate Shegalim, Sukka, Rosh ha-Shana,
Siebeck, 2001], p. 194)
Besa, Ta‘anit, Megilla, Hagiga und Mo‘ed Qatan [Tiibingen: Mohr
Untersuchungen zur
and parallels; see Peter Schafer, Rivalitat zwischen Engeln und Menschen:
tellung (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1975), p. 51, n. 64.
rabbinischen Engelvors
16 Schafer, Rivalitdt, ibid.
58 Chapter 2

at the original function of the expanse above the head of the four creatures: the
“firmament” that divides the waters above and below (Gen. 1:7).
When he enters the terrifying building that rises in front of him, Enoch’s only
appropriate reaction is fear and horror. This is repeated twice: already terrified
by the surrounding wall of hailstones with its tongues of fire, his horror is in-
tensified after he enters the hot-cold house with “no delights in it”; now he is
overwhelmed by horror and falls on his face. This reaction is in stark contrast to
Ezekiel: to be sure, the prophet prostrates at the end of his vision (Ezek. 1:28),
but there is no mention of any fear of this vision. Ezekiel was “overpowered by
the hand of God” and left the place of his vision in bitterness (Ezek. 3:14), but
these feelings have nothing to do with what he has seen: he does not fear God.
Enoch, in contrast to Ezekiel, trembles at the mere sight of the terrifying build-
ing — not yet knowing what it is or what it accommodates — in anticipation of
more horrible things to come.'’ The next step reveals the secret of the house:
And I saw ina vision, (15) and behold! another house greater than that one and its door
was completely opened opposite me; and it [the second house] was all constructed of
tongues of fire. (16) And in every respect it so excelled in glory and honour and gran-
deur that I am unable to describe to you its glory and grandeur. (17) And its floor was
of fire, and its upper chambers were lightnings and fireballs, and its roof was blazing
fire. (18) And I beheld and saw therein a lofty throne; and its appearance was like the
crystals of ice and the wheels thereof were like the shining sun, and (I saw) watchers,
Cherubim."8 (19) And from underneath the throne came forth streams of blazing fire,
and I was unable to look on it.

Standing in the house he has entered, Enoch sees another even greater house;
since he has not yet left the first house, the second house must be located within
the first house (the apparent contradiction of a second greater house within the
first house does not seem to bother our author). This time, Enoch does not enter
the second house (at least not immediately); he just looks through its open door
and describes the interior of the second house from his position in the first one.
The major distinction between the second and the first house is not only that it
is larger!” but also that it consists completely of fire (instead of ice and fire): the
walls, floor, upper chambers and roof are all various manifestations of fire. As
such, it is clearly more magnificent than the first house (v. 16).

'7 This has also been emphasized by Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 16. But I would not
go as far as to argue that the Book of the Watchers “emphasizes the glory of God’s heavenly
temple by making it, rather than the vision of God himself, the cause of Enoch’s fear.” Enoch is
afraid not only of the building in which God dwells (as he will realize soon) but also, of course,
of God himself (1 En. 14:24).
'8 Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, p. 257, proposes “and its <guardians> were cherubim.”
'° This is Knibb’s translation, The Ethiopic Book of Enoch, p. 98.
 Enoch and His Circle 59

But whereas the second house is made completely of fire, the throne Enoch
sees therein looks like “crystals of ice,””° thus suggesting a remnant of the fire-
versus-ice motif so characteristic of the first house.”! This does not refer to Ezek-
iel, because the throne in Ezek. | is explicitly said to resemble sapphire (v. 26);
the expanse on which the throne rests looks like ice, not the throne.”* The same is
true for the wheels: whereas the somewhat inexplicable fact of the throne having
wheels (in contrast to Ezekiel, Enoch’s throne does not move but stands firmly
fixed in the second house) is no doubt taken from Ezekiel, Ezekiel’s wheels look
like chrysolite (tarshish) — apparently a bright yellow stone — and not like the
shining sun.”* In contrast, mention of the cherubs clearly alludes to Ezekiel’s
identification of the four creatures with the cherubs.
The throne in the second building leaves no doubt that the architectural struc-
ture Enoch sees is a palace in heaven, the palace of the King of Kings — God. It
consists of an outer wall (surrounding and protecting the inner buildings?), a first
building, and, apparently inside this first building, a second building that serves
as God’s throne room. Scholars have long observed that this three-part structure
resembles the structure of Solomon’s Temple as described in 1 Kings 6:3, 5: the
hekhal (sanctuary), the devir (inner sanctuary) or godesh ha-qodashim (Holy of
Holies), in which was located the ark covered by the cherubs, and an outside
“wall” (gir), which surrounded both hekhal and devir. Accordingly, the first
house in Enoch’s vision would correspond to the hekhal, and the second house
together with God’s throne would correspond to the devir.*4 Whatever the pre-
cise details of the correspondence between the earthly Temple and Enoch’s heav-
enly structure — one should not forget that, quite unlike the hekhal and devir in
the earthly Temple, the two houses in heaven are nested within each other?> — it
is very likely that the architectural structure in heaven is modeled after the First
Temple on earth: God’s heavenly residence is no mere palace but more con-
cretely a temple, similar to the Temple in which he resides on earth.
20 The translation is not entirely clear: Knibb, The Ethiopic Book of Enoch, p.99, and
Nickelsburg, / Enoch 1, p. 257, have just “ice,” whereas E. Isaac, “1 (Ethiopic Apocalypse of)
Enoch,” in OTP, vol. 1, p. 21, has “crystal.” Milik (in Jézef T. Milik, ed., with the collabora-
tion of Matthew Black, The Books of Enoch: Aramaic Fragments of Qumran Cave 4 (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1976], p. 199) reconstructs the Aramaic zekhukhei — “crystal-glass.”
21 Nickelsburg, / Enoch 1, p. 264, posits that “the point of comparison is not cold and heat,
but brilliance.”
22 Black’s remark (/ Enoch, p. 149) is therefore misleading.
23 Pace Black, / Enoch, p. 149, it is not the throne in Ezekiel that is surrounded by fire but
the figure seated on the throne.
24 Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 14.
25 Also, the ulam (explicitly mentioned in 1 Kings 6:3), which served as vestibule to the
two inner chambers of the Temple, is missing in Enoch’s structure — unless one accepts Him-
melfarb’s suggestion (following the Greek translation; see also Milik, The Books of Enoch,
p. 195, who translates 1 En. 14:9 “And I entered it until I drew near to the walls of a building
(Him-
built with hail-stones”) that the “wall” is in reality a building, namely, the missing ulam
melfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 14).
60 Chapter 2

Finally, Enoch sees blazing fire streaming forth from beneath the throne. This
graphic detail again has no counterpart in Ezekiel. It is reminiscent, however,
of the throne vision in Daniel 7, which displays some striking parallels with
our Enoch text: “His [God’s] throne was flames of fire; its wheels were blazing
fire. A river of fire streamed and came forth from before him/it””° (Dan. 7:9 f.).
Here we have the throne (albeit not of ice but of fire), the wheels (of fire, which
come closer to the sun in Enoch than the chrysolite in Ezekiel), and the river is-
suing forth from beneath the throne (completely lacking in Ezekiel). But if the
imagery of Enoch’s vision is, as this parallel suggests, drawn from both Ezekiel
and Daniel, we have a chronological problem: the book of Daniel was composed
around 165 BCE, during the peak of Hellenization under Antiochus IV Epiphanes
(175-163 BCE), hence considerably later than the last quarter of the third cen-
tury or the first quarter of the second century BCE, the date most scholars assign
to the Book of the Watchers. So, either the dating of the Book of the Watchers
is incorrect and must be moved closer to the book of Daniel (which is not very
likely), or Daniel’s vision cannot have influenced Enoch. One obvious solution
to this dilemma is to turn the tables and argue that Enoch’s vision (in the Aramaic
original of the Book of the Watchers or in its literary archetype)?’ influenced
Daniel, not the other way around.** In any case, the rivers of fire streaming from
beneath the throne clearly require the attribution of some kind of interdepend-
ent relationship between not only Ezekiel and the Book of the Watchers but also
between the Book of the Watchers and Daniel.
Now comes the climax of Enoch’s vision:
(20) And the Glory of the Great One”? sat thereon, and his raiment was brighter than
the sun,*° and whiter than any snow. (21) And no angel was able to enter this house, or
to look on his face, by reason of its splendour and glory; and no flesh was able to look
at him. (22) A blazing fire encircled him, and a great fire stood in front of him, so that
none who surrounded him could draw near to him; ten thousand times ten thousand
stood before him. He had no need of counsel; in his every word was a deed. (23) And
the watchers and holy ones*' who draw near to him turn not away from him, by night
or by day, nor do they depart from him. (24) As for me, till then I had been prostrate on
my face, trembling, and the Lord called me with his own mouth and said to me: “Come
hither, Enoch, and hear my word.” And there came to me one of the holy angels and he
raised me up** and brought me to the door, and I bowed my face low.

© The Aramaic godamohi could refer to either God or the throne.

27 Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 17, suspects that the fiery streams originate from
an-
cient traditions of the divine council. I myself am less convinced of this divine council
motif in
the Book of the Watchers (see below).
*8 Black, J Enoch, pp. 151f. The other possibility, of course, is a common
source; see
below, n. 38.
*° Nickelsburg, / Enoch 1, p. 257: “the Great Glory.”
*° Nickelsburg, ibid., emends the text: “his raiment was like the appearance
of the sun.”
3! Nickelsburg, ibid.: “and the holy ones of the watchers.”
2 Nickelsburg, ibid., p. 267, adds: “and stood me (on my feet).”
 Enoch and His Circle 61

What Enoch finally sees in the second house is God himself, seated on his
throne; the “Glory of the Great One,” of course, is the kKevod YHWH of Ezek-
iel.*? Strictly speaking, however, Enoch does not see much of God: the narra-
tive moves immediately from the Glory of the Great One seated on the throne
to his garment;** otherwise the text only communicates that God is surrounded
by blazing fire (v. 22), not unlike Ezekiel’s figure on the throne (Ezek. 1:27).
The description of God’s garment is again reminiscent of Daniel: “As I looked,
thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. His raiment was
like white snow, and the hair of his head was like pure wool” (Dan. 7:9). In Ezek-
iel there is no mention of any particular garment belonging to the figure sitting on
the throne (unless one wants to argue that Ezek. 1:27 hints at some kind of robe
covering the lower part of God’s body), but Enoch and Daniel once again concur
that God’s garment is shining like white snow (Enoch intensifies the imagery:
brighter than the sun and whiter than snow).*° Martha Himmelfarb has made a
convincing case for the whiteness of God’s robe being influenced by the plain
linen (bad) garments worn by the high priest in the earthly Temple as he entered
the Holy of Holies (Lev. 16:4). This clearly adds to the Temple imagery and the
priestly flavor of the whole scene, which Himmelfarb duly emphasizes — al-
though, strictly speaking, one would expect Enoch to be the counterpart of the
earthly high priest and accordingly garbed in white clothes, not God.*°
Whereas Ezekiel was quite elaborate in his description of the human-like fig-
ure seated on the chariot, Enoch must content himself with the divine garment;
he tells us nothing of God’s appearance, and he certainly does not tell us that
God resembles a human being (the only hint given of God’s human shape is the
fact that he wears a robe). To the contrary, he explicitly states that no angel and
no flesh was able to look at him — very much in contrast to Ezekiel and yet closer
again to the biblical Moses. Moreover, Enoch emphasizes that the angels could
not even enter the house in which God’s throne was located, though he goes on
to say that “ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him” (v. 22). The lat-
ter is again similar to the vision of Daniel, who notes — immediately after seeing
the river of fire streaming forth from God or the throne — that “thousands upon
thousands served him; myriads upon myriads attended him” (Dan. 7:10). The
following verse in 1 Enoch (v. 23) makes clear that the angels indeed stand in
close attendance to him, that is, in his throne chamber, and not, for example, in
the first house in which Enoch is standing and peering through the open door at
the inner house. The text displays, therefore, a conspicuous tension between the

33 In the Septuagint doxa kyriou. On the phrase “Glory of the Great One” and its Greek
equivalents, see Black, / Enoch, pp. 149f., and Nickelsburg, / Enoch 1, p. 264.
34 This has also been noticed by Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, pp. 16 ff.
35. This strikingly close parallel makes the problem of the interdependence between 1 Enoch
and Daniel all the more critical.
36 Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, ibid.
62 Chapter 2

unambiguous statement that neither human beings nor even angels can enter the
inner house and the fact that some angels — actually, quite a large number — do
enter it and stand close to God, separated from him only by the fire that sur-
rounds him.?” Yet there is no ambiguity as to whether or not the angels can see
God: there is no hint that any of the angels ever actually looks at him.
Nor is the text very explicit about the precise function of the angels, except
for the fact that they surround him but cannot draw near to him because of the
blazing fire that “encircles” him (v. 22), and that they never leave him (v. 23).
There is no word of the heavenly liturgy, which we would expect in such a set-
ting, and no word of any concrete mission for the angels. On the contrary, it is
stated quite unambiguously in the middle of the angels’ description that God has
“no need of counsel,” for “in his every word was a deed” (v. 22). This is odd
enough, because it seems to be directed at the angels and to imply that God has
no need of the angels, neither for his counsel nor for his actions. The angels in
the inner Sanctuary of the heavenly Temple are reduced to mere decoration; at
best they shield him (but from what?). The firm rejection of the angels’ func-
tion as divine counselors is all the more conspicuous if we take into considera-
tion the parallel in Daniel, which — immediately after mentioning the thousands
and myriads that serve God — says that “the court took seat and the books were
opened” (Dan. 7:10). Here the angels clearly belong to the divine council that
takes place in heaven.** This idea of the angels as the counselors to God follows
a well-established biblical tradition: the prophet Micah’s vision of God seated
on his throne and surrounded by the host of heaven, for example, depicts a heav-
enly council at which one of the counselors volunteers to lead the King of Israel
to his ruin (1 Kings 22:19—23). Similarly, Satan in the book of Job proposes in
the heavenly council to tempt Job and gets God’s approval for this experiment
(Job 1:6—-12, 2:1—6).*? Hence, in ostentatiously depriving the angels of their tra-
ditional role as counselors and messengers, the Book of the Watchers is making
a statement against the angels. The heavenly scene that Enoch observes is not
God’s council with his angels, the result of which is a task handed over to one
of the angels or a group of angels;*° rather, the man Enoch, instead of the angels,

*7 This tension has been noticed also by Maxwell J. Davidson, Angels at Qumran: A Com-
parative Study of 1 Enoch 1-36, 72-108 and Sectarian Writings from Qumran (Sheffield, UK:
JSOT Press, 1992), p. 58.
38 Again, it is important to consider the relationship between Daniel and the Book of the
Watchers. In this particular case it looks very much as though the Book of the Watchers answers
Daniel or its Vorlage — but if Daniel was here the Vorlage for the Book of the Watchers, we get
into chronological trouble, since the Book of the Watchers is supposed to be older than
Daniel
(see above). Therefore, we must assume a common source for both the Book of the Watchers
and Daniel or indeed move the Book of the Watchers closer to Daniel, that
is, to the second
quarter of the second century sce. Again, the former is much more likely than the latter.
*° In Isa. 6 (the heavenly throne room) the angels are not depicted as counselors.
4° Pace Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, pp. 13 f.
 Enoch and His Circle 63

will become God’s messenger and deliver God’s judgment to the Watchers on
earth (I return to this later).
Enoch’s reaction to the grandiose scene that he observes from his place in
the first house, peering through the open door of the second house, is again
fear and trembling: he is still prostrate on his face, the appropriate position he
took up from the moment he entered the outer house (vv. 14, 24). But now God
calls him “with his own mouth” and asks him to come closer. What precisely
this coming closer means is unequivocally stated in v. 25: one of the angels ap-
proaches him — obviously coming from the inner house — stands him on his feet
and brings him to the door of the throne chamber. There is no reason to assume
that Enoch enters the inner house. He apparently stands now in the entrance door
to the throne chamber and listens to God — and the text is at pains to make clear
that Enoch listens and does not look: he bows his face down, in order to listen
intently to the word of God and not look at him.
The emphasis placed on God’s speaking to Enoch “with his own mouth’!
directs the listener’s and reader’s attention away from the vision to the follow-
ing audition (this again is similar to Ezekiel, although Ezekiel saw much more
than Enoch). God now begins his long speech — introduced by “Fear not, Enoch,
righteous man and scribe of righteousness. Come hither and hearken to my
voice” (15:1) — in which he explains to him what to tell the Watchers, who have
chosen him to intercede on their behalf. Since the Watchers have defiled them-
selves with the daughters of men and begotten giants for sons, who are respon-
sible for all the evil on earth, they and their offspring are condemned, and there
will be no peace for them forever (16:4). Hence, what in the preceding unit (1 En.
6-11) was the task of the angels, who remained in heaven,” is now bestowed on
Enoch. Enoch, a human being but elevated among the angels, becomes the medi-
ator between the (fallen) angels and God. To fulfill this task, he must be brought
up into heaven and enter the “sanctuary” (hekhal) of the heavenly Temple so as
to look through the door of the “Holy of Holies” (godesh ha-qodashim), God’s
throne chamber, and be instructed by the words of God.
With this the narrative of Enoch’s vision is completed. The following two
units of the Book of the Watchers (1 En. 17-19, and 20-36) recount Enoch’s
two tours above the surface of the earth and do not return to his vision in heaven.
So what, then, is the purpose of the vision? The answer can only be that it is

41 The phrase is reminiscent of what God says to Aaron and Miriam at the entrance to the
Tabernacle in the wilderness when he clarifies what Moses’ mission is (and what distinguishes
him from other human beings): “Not so with my servant Moses; ... with him I speak mouth to
mouth (peh el peh), plainly and not in riddles, and he beholds the likeness of the Lord (temunat
could
YHWH, lit. ‘the image of the Lord’)” (Num. 12:7). As we know from Ex. 33:20, Moses
not see God’s face, just some kind of vague “image.”
42 More specifically, Sariel, Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael.
43 According to Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 25, the author combines in Enoch the
“three roles of prophet, priest, and scribe.”
64 Chapter 2

definitely not an end in itself but firmly embedded in the narrative of the fallen
Watchers. Like Ezekiel, to whom God reveals himself on his chariot in the open
heavens so as to entrust him with the mission for his fellow-exiles, Enoch as-
cends to the heavenly Temple so that he might be entrusted with the mission
for the fallen angels.” I agree therefore with Martha Himmelfarb that there is
no point in extracting the vision from the narrative. For what would remain
of the vision’s purpose if we separated the vision as depicted in the Book of the
Watchers from the surrounding narrative? Even if we tried to imagine an earlier
version or an Urtext of the vision without the narrative provided by the Book of
the Watchers, we cannot ignore the fact that the vision culminates in an audition
and that the audition inextricably links the vision with the destiny of the Watch-
ers (like Ezekiel’s vision, which culminates in an audition about the future des-
tiny of the people of Israel).
In other words, the purpose of both Ezekiel’s and Enoch’s vision is directed
toward the community at large, the community of Israel, not toward the indi-
vidual; as the subject of the vision, the individual here plays no significant role.
Although “overpowered by the hand of the Lord” and probably in an ecstatic
mental state, Ezekiel has no particularly personal reaction to what is happening
to him: he falls on his face, which is the standard biblical reaction to divine rev-
elations. Enoch is somewhat more preoccupied with his horror and fear, but his
reaction, too, climaxes in a prostration. And neither of them gets very close to
God. In Ezekiel’s case God approaches him and hovers above him on his chariot
in the open heavens. Enoch ascends to heaven but only attains to the open door
of the heavenly Holy of Holies. Ezekiel sees God, but only vaguely, as a human
figure veiled in various manifestations of fire. Enoch sees God’s raiment behind
a veil of fire. For neither of them is seeing God the purpose of their journey.
Nor is it the individual experience of the visionary. The attempt of some mod-
ern scholars to uncover behind the narratives of these early visions the ecstatic
experiences of their authors simply misses the point. A prominent example of
this trend is Christopher Rowland in his book The Open Heaven,‘ whose al-
leged proof of such ecstatic experiences does not add up to much. The descrip-
tion of the first house as simultaneously hot and cold and inducing the feeling
of horror and trembling in Enoch (1 En. 14:13) is explained by Rowland as the
“physical result” of Enoch’s experience (and standing in for “Enoch,” of course,
is the anonymous writer who expresses here his “mystical” feelings); Enoch is
no longer able to distinguish whether he is hot or cold: “one of the symptoms of
shock, induced by great fear, is a feeling of cold, which can in certain instances

4 See also Davidson, Angels at Qumran, p. 57: “The function of the divine
throne in the nar-
fative ... 1s to underscore the authority and reliability of the message
the seer is to convey.”
“S Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, pp. 103 f.
46 Christopher Rowland, The Open Heaven: A Study of Apocalyptic
in Judaism and Early
Christianity (London: SPCK, 1982)
 Enoch and His Circle 65

manifest itself in the form of a cold sweat. Such symptoms, induced by the fear
of what was to come as the seer went further into the heavenly world, may well
account for this comment.”*” This pseudopsychological explanation of Enoch’s
bodily symptoms unfortunately ignores the fact that the text does not describe
the reaction of Enoch’s body but simply the condition of the house: the house
is hot and cold because it is composed of hailstones or snow and fire, and there
is no reason to assume that this condition of the house is passed on to Enoch’s
body.
It is true, as Rowland suspects, that the vision in 1 En. 14 does not fit well
with chapter 12, according to which Enoch had already been taken up to heaven
and was living with the angels. This clearly points to a tension created by the at-
tempt to include Enoch in the story of the Watchers as recounted in 1 En. 6-11.
The biblical Vor/age compels the conclusion that Enoch did not in fact die but
was taken up to heaven and did not return to earth, whereas here he needs to be
brought back to earth in order to be able to ascend to heaven to receive his in-
structions from God. In other words, the story of Enoch’s ascent as embedded
in the narrative of the Watchers presupposes the existence of an ascent account
template, as it were. Since Enoch’s ascent is the first such account known to us,
we have no access to an earlier story that may have served as a model for En-
och’s ascent in the Book of the Watchers. It would be naive, however, to con-
clude from this that behind the narrative as we have it in the Book of the Watch-
ers lies the original story of “a man” — presumably, as Rowland insinuates, the
author — who personally experienced his ascent to heaven and incorporated it
into Enoch’s ascent account. Even if Enoch’s vision “has been integrated into
its present context,”** there is no exegetic path leading back to a version — and
experience — of a vision independent of the context provided by the Book of the
Watchers. Nor is there any basis for reconstructing postexilic “prophetic circles,”
which laid a claim to the validity of their visionary experience and served as the
breeding ground whence the apocalyptic movement grew.”
It seems appropriate to conclude this section about the first ascent apocalypse
with a few words about the function of the Temple in it. As we have seen, the
Temple plays an important role in Ezekiel’s vision: defiled by its present occu-
pants, inaccessible to the exiled part of the people, and soon to be destroyed, the
earthly Temple can no longer be the proper place for God’s Glory. God appears
to Ezekiel on earth in his fiery chariot as the God of the universe, transcending
the Temple walls, and reveals to him the dimensions and the appearance of the
future eschatological Temple. As such, the vision and its message are doubtless
a critique of the present Temple on earth.

4) Ibids, pe232.
48 Tbid., p. 241.
49 Ibid., p. 246. See also Himmelfarb’s critique of this concept (Ascent to Heaven,
pp. 110ff.).
66 Chapter 2

About 400 years after Ezekiel’s vision the author of the Book of the Watchers
has his hero Enoch ascend to the heavenly Temple. Now the heavens are open
not only to show the seer God’s chariot tirelessly cruising the celestial realm and
observing everything that happens in heaven and on earth, but to lead Enoch to
the Temple in heaven and to the divine throne in its Holy of Holies. To be sure,
the earthly Temple has been rebuilt — if the dating of the Book of the Watchers
to the last quarter of the third century or the first quarter of the second century
(hence around 200 BcE) is correct, we are in the heyday of the Second Tem-
ple — but it is clearly not Ezekiel’s eschatological Temple; rather, it is only a poor
copy of the First Temple with the ark and the cherubs, God’s visible throne on
earth, missing. Although there is a Temple on earth, with its priests and its high
priest, the author of the Book of the Watchers nevertheless puts all his energy
and creativity into describing the heavenly Temple as the complete and perfect
counterpart to the earthly Temple. So the Book of the Watchers must be read as
a continuation and updating of Ezekiel’s critique of the present Temple under
different historical circumstances. It does not postpone the true and perfect Tem-
ple to the eschatological future but rather moves it into heaven, where it can be
visited and observed, and compared with the deficient earthly Temple.
I would even like to go a step further and posit that Enoch’s heavenly Temple
can be understood as a devastating critique of the Temple in Jerusalem. It has
been argued that the fallen Watchers correspond to the earthly priests and that
the charge that the Watchers defiled themselves with human women echoes po-
lemics against the priests of the Second Temple.°° According to this interpreta-
tion, the fallen Watchers are “the counterparts of the polluted priests” on earth;>!
therefore — continuing the argument — the remaining Watchers in heaven are the
true priests: the true Temple service has been moved from earth to heaven be-
cause of the defilement of the Jerusalem Temple. Moreover, since the goal of
Enoch’s ascent to the heavenly Temple is to approach God on his throne in the
Holy of Holies, his vision could even imply the most pitiless critique, namly, that
God in fact can no longer be found in the Temple on earth: the Holy of Holies
in the earthly Temple is indeed empty; the missing Ark signals that God is gone,
that he has withdrawn himself to his Temple in heaven.
This interpretation is at odds with that of Martha Himmelfarb, who diagnoses
only “a milder condemnation of the Jerusalem priesthood in the Book of the
watchers” and who wants to place the book in an intermediate stage between
Ezekiel and the Qumran literature.*? It is true that a milder attitude toward the

°° David Suter, “Fallen Angel, Fallen Priest: The Problem of Family Purity in 1 Enoch
6-16,” HUCA 50 (1979), pp. 115-135; George W.E. Nickelsburg, “Enoch, Levi, and Peter:
Recipients of Revelation in Upper Galilee,” JBL 100 (1981), pp. 575-600; idem, J Enoch 1,
pp. 230f.; Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, pp. 21 ff.
°! Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 22.
% Ibid.
 Enoch and His Circle 67

priests in Jerusalem fits in well with the praise of the high priest sung by the
author of the book of Sirach at the beginning of the second century BCE (this is
one of Himmelfarb’s arguments), and one could add that the sharp and irrecon-
cilable critique that I draw much better suits the period of aggressive Helleni-
zation after 175 Bc. I do not wish to enter here into the problem of dating the
Book of the Watchers; however, it may be sufficient to point out that it would
be highly contestable to presuppose one and the same attitude toward the priests
around 200 BcE. Also, the fact that some Watchers remain in heaven does not
inevitably lead to the conclusion that “not all earthly priests are bad,” as Him-
melfarb suggests.*? In her version, the fallen Watchers on earth represent the
bad priests, and the remaining Watchers in heaven represent the good priests on
earth. This seems to overstretch the imagery of the Watchers and the two Tem-
ples. The fallen Watchers are not defiled priests of the heavenly Temple;* rather,
they become defiled when they descend to earth. They are originally pure spirits
that lusted after the daughters of men and will be condemned forever. Accord-
ingly, when the priests of the Second Temple polluted themselves, they defiled
the earthly Temple forever. The Temple in heaven, which Enoch is allowed to
see, has become the substitute for the Temple on earth.»

The Testament of Levi

The Testament of Levi takes up and intensifies this critique of the Second Tem-
ple and its priests. The book is an ascent apocalypse that now belongs to the so-
called Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, a Christian collection of texts that
depends on Jewish sources. The dependency on a Jewish Vorlage varies from
testament to testament (and is disputed),°° but in the case of the Testament of
Levi there can be no doubt that the present Greek Testament draws on an Ara-
maic Vorlage (which is, however, only partially preserved).°’ This Aramaic Levi

53 Ibid. See now Himmelfarb, “Temple and Priests in the Book of the Watchers, the Animal
Apocalypse, and the Apocalypse of Weeks,” in Gabriele Boccaccini and John J. Collins, eds.,
The Early Enoch Literature (Leiden: Brill, 2007), pp. 219-235, esp. p. 228.
54 Himmelfarb, ibid.
55 This is not to say that I am arguing here and elsewhere that any text talking about the
heavenly Temple must ipso facto be against the earthly Temple in Jerusalem and regard it as
corrupt. I am aware of the fact that the idea of a heavenly Temple matching an earthly Temple
goes back to ancient Near Eastern mythology and that originally it was presumably intended to
validate the earthly sanctuary (as Philip Alexander reminded me in a private communication).
But this does not mean that the idea of a heavenly Temple ipso facto excludes any critique of
the earthly sanctuary.
56 For a brief summary of the relevant scholarship, see Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven,
. 30.
57 In fragments from Qumran and one fragment from the Cairo Genizah. See Michael E.
Stone, “Aramaic Levi in Its Contexts,” JSQ 9 (2002), pp. 307-326.
68 Chapter 2

document is dated before the middle of the second century BCE and is attributed
to the same circles whence the Book of the Watchers originated. The Greek Tes-
tament of Levi is much later, but since the two visions in the Testament of Levi
that concern us are attested to in the Aramaic fragments (although, unfortunately,
the remaining fragments are too scanty to be of any use for reconstructing the
original Aramaic text), it is justifiable to discuss it here, immediately after the
Book of the Watchers.
The book recounts the life of Levi, son of Jacob, and begins with the story of
vengeance against Shechem, the son of Hamor. According to the Hebrew Bible,
Shechem had defiled Dinah, the sister of Jacob’s sons; as a consequence, Levi
and his brother Simeon took cruel revenge on all the Shechemites (Gen. 34).
This cautionary tale against fornication and sexual relations with gentiles be-
comes the leitmotif of the Testament of Levi: Levi, the hero of the biblical story,
is chosen to be the progenitor of all priests and to denounce and condemn the
kind of moral corruption of which the future priests will be guilty.
When, after the incident with his sister Dinah, lamenting the sinfulness of the
human race, Levi falls asleep, he sees the heavens open (2:6). An angel invites
him to ascend, and Levi apparently enters the first three of altogether seven (?)
heavens.** Standing in the third heaven (?), the angel proclaims that he “shall
stand near the Lord,” become “his priest,” and “shall tell forth his mysteries to
men” (2:10). He then briefly explains the contents of the seven (?) heavens and
tells him that>?
(3:4) in the uppermost heaven of all dwells the Great Glory in the Holy of Holies supe-
rior to all holiness. (5) There with him® are the archangels, who serve and offer propi-
tiatory sacrifices to the Lord in behalf of all the sins of ignorance of the righteous ones.
(6) They present to the Lord a sweet savor,°! a reasonable and bloodless offering.

The “Great Glory” (hé doxa hé megalé) refers back to Ezekiel’s kevod YHWH,®
and the precise location of God in the “Holy of Holies” (godesh ha-qodashim)
makes it unambiguously clear that he dwells in his heavenly Temple (as in the

°8 On the development of the seven heavens schema, see Peter Schafer, “In Heaven as It
Is in Hell: The Cosmology of Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit,” in Ra‘anan S. Boustan and Annette
Yoshiko Reed, eds., Heavenly Realms and Earthly Realities in Late Antique Religions (Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp. 233-274.
°° The translation follows H.C. Kee, “Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs,” in OTP, vol. ils
pp. 788 ff., and H. W. Hollander and M. de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A
Commentary (Leiden: Brill, 1985), pp. 130 ff.
6° Hollander and de Jonge explain this as another (the sixth) heaven: “In the (heaven) next
to it [the highest heaven]. ...”
°! Kee: “pleasing odor”; Hollander and de Jonge: “pleasant odour.”
; ® This is Hollander and de Jonge’s translation; Kee has “a rational and bloodless
obla-
tion.”
. °3 The Greek (Septuagint) translation doxa kyriou seems to reflect the origina! phrase;
see
above.
 Enoch and His Circle 69

Book of the Watchers). He is surrounded by (arch)angels who offer expiatory

sacrifices on behalf of the righteous. This latter information is new; the angels
surrounding God in the Book of the Watchers do not do anything. Here their sac-
rifices are identified as sacrifices for the righteous only, and they are described
as “a sweet savor” and as “reasonable and bloodless.”
This juxtaposition of “sweet savor” and “bloodless” has given rise to some
discussion among scholars. It has been observed that the “sweet savor” in Greek
(osmé euddias) is the Septuagint’s standard translation for the Hebrew reah ni-
hoah, a “soothing odor” (for example, Gen. 8:21: “The Lord smelled the sooth-
ing odor”); this is the odor of the burnt offering on the altar, which rises to
heaven and soothes God and induces merciful feelings when he smells it. Since
the reah nihoah, as delicate and fragrant as it might be when it arrives in heaven,
presupposes the bloody slaughtering and subsequent burning of an animal, it
does not fit in well with “bloodless,” as posited in our text. Therefore, some
scholars have seen in the angels’ “bloodless offering” a certain Christian influ-
ence that polemicizes against the bloody sacrifice of the Jews on earth.© Against
this, Martha Himmelfarb has suggested we read the juxtaposition of the “sweet
savor” with the “bloodless offering” as a “further statement of the differences
between heavenly and earthly sacrifice”: true, the earthly sacrifice is a bloody
and cruel matter, but what arrives in heaven is just “the most ethereal product of
the sacrifices performed on earth.’
I do not think that this separation of the reah nihoah in heaven from the bloody
sacrifice on earth really works, and so propose a more literal reading of the text:
in the heavenly Temple, the angels perform a sacrifice that is radically differ-
ent from the sacrifice in the earthly Temple. In contrast to the sacrifice on earth,
it is bloodless and therefore gives off a sweet odor; its odor is truly sweet be-
cause it is bloodless. Hence, instead of diagnosing a Christian polemic I would
argue that we are confronted here again with Jewish polemic against the Second
Temple and its service as performed by the Jerusalem priests. The Testament
of Levi stands in one line of tradition with the Book of the Watchers and Ezek-
iel — which, after all, is a very biblical tradition. That this critique of the Jerusa-
lem Temple will live on in Christianity — with its own specific emphases — does
not speak against such an interpretation.
Having described to Levi the heavens with their contents, the angel proclaims
the divine judgment upon all “sons of men” and the priestly office that will be

“ The JPS translation again smoothes the Hebrew text (and follows the Septuagint) when
it translates “The Lord smelled the pleasing odor.”
65 Hollander and de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, p. 138.
66 Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 35; eadem, “Earthly Sacrifice and Heavenly Incense:
The Law of the Priesthood in Aramaic Levi and Jubilees,” in Boustan and Reed, Heavenly
Realms and Earthly Realities, pp. 103-122 (esp. p. 121).
70 Chapter 2

given to Levi forever (with clearly eschatological overtones). Then follows

Levi’s vision of God in the uppermost heaven:
(5:1) At this moment the angel opened for me the gates of heaven and I saw the holy
Temple and the Most High (ton hypsiston) upon a throne of glory (epi thronou doxés).©7
(2) And he said to me, “Levi, to you I have given the blessings of the priesthood, until
I shall come and dwell in the midst of Israel.”

This vision is remarkably modest in comparison with Enoch’s vision in the Book
of the Watchers and Ezekiel’s vision at the Chebar canal. As is to be expected,
God’s place in heaven is identified as a Temple, and it goes without saying that
he sits on a throne.®’ But nothing about hosts of angels surrounding him, no
fire, no overpowering heavenly scene that elicits in the seer the feelings of hor-
ror and fear and to which the appropriate reaction can only be trembling and
shaking and falling on one’s face. Instead, God tells Levi quite matter-of-factly
that he is going to bestow on him the priesthood until one day he himself re-
turns to Israel, obviously to the eschatological Temple. That’s all. Immediately
after, the angel leads Levi back to earth and instructs him to take action against
Shechem. Whether or not the author/editor of the Greek Testament of Levi is
to be blamed for this toned-down vision of God (and we might hope for a more
elevated version in the Aramaic Levi), Levi’s vision is a far cry from what
Enoch and Ezekiel have seen. But still, all three visions considered so far coin-
cide in one important aspect: in all of them it is not the vision of God that is the
primary goal (and certainly not the visionary’s elevated state of mind) but the
message conveyed by God during the vision. And in all three cases this message
is concerned with the future of the people of Israel, in particular the future of its
Temple (and priests). In this latter respect the Testament of Levi is definitely the
most radical one, denouncing outright the class of priests that is holding office
at the time of its author. |
The second vision (ch. 8) describes Levi’s investiture and consecration as
priest. He is invested with “the robe of priesthood, the crown of righteousness,
the breastplate of understanding, the garment of truth, the plate of faith, the tur-
ban of (giving) a sign, and the ephod of prophecy” (8:2) and anointed with holy
oil (8:4). The locale of this investiture is not mentioned, but it doubtless takes
place in heaven again. Nor is there any hint at God’s presence. The investiture
and consecration is carried out by seven angels, and nothing points to the fact
that Levi actually sees God or that God is in any way involved in this scene. The

°” The Greek according to Marinus de Jonge, ed., in cooperation with H. W. Hollander, H. J.

de Jonge, and Th. Korteweg, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Critical Edition of the
Greek Text (Leiden: Brill, 1978), p. 29.
°8 The phrase “throne of glory” (thronos doxés) is strikingly similar to the kisse ha-kavod
in the Hekhalot literature. But see already Jer. 14:21, 17:12 (kisse kavod; Septuagint: thronos
doxés) and 1 En. 9:4.
°° Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 32.
 Enoch and His Circle 71

angels confirm that from now on the priesthood is given to Levi and all his pos-
terity (8:3) and define the exceptional position of the priests in Israel: “To you
and your posterity will be everything desired in Israel, and you shall eat every-
thing attractive to behold, and your posterity will share among themselves the
Lord’s table. From among them will be priests, judges, and scribes, and by their
word the sanctuary will be controlled” (8:16 f.).
Unfortunately, the priesthood in Israel did not live up to the promise of this
grandiose beginning, and the reminder of the book is concerned with a history of
its gradual decline. Already Levi’s grandfather Isaac admonishes him to be “on
guard against the spirit of promiscuity,’° for it is constantly active and through
your descendants it is about to defile the sanctuary” (9:9);”! in particular, he
warns him not to take a wife who is “from the race of alien nations” (9:10)’2 —a
clear reminiscence of the fate of the Shechemites. In a dramatic speech Levi
summarizes what harm his descendants will do to the priesthood; interestingly
enough, he maintains that he knows this “from the writings of Enoch” (14:1),
drawing a striking parallel between the corruption of the fallen Watchers and the
Jerusalemite priests of his time:
(14:5) You plunder the Lord’s offerings; from his share you steal choice parts, contemp-
tuously eating them with whores. (6) You teach the Lord’s commands out of greed for
gain; married women you profane;” you have intercourse with whores and adulter-
esses. You take gentile women for your wives” and your sexual relations will become
like Sodom and Gomorrah. (7) You will be inflated with pride over your priesthood,
exalting yourselves not merely by human standards but contrary to the commands of
God. (8) With contempt and laughter you will deride the sacred things.

The priesthood on earth will be corrupt until finally, at the end of time, God
will “raise up a new priest” (18:2), the eschatological priest, whose priesthood
will endure forever (18:8). He will inaugurate a period of everlasting peace that
will culminate in the restoration of the primordial paradise (18:10). For him, the
“heavens will be opened” again, and from the heavenly Temple “sanctification
will come upon him (18:6). As I have already noted,’ this is a remarkable re-
versal of Ezekiel’s open heaven and the subsequent ascent tradition of the Enoch
circles. The movement from below to above is reversed again into a movement
from above to below: from his place in heaven, obviously the heavenly Temple,
God confirms his appointed redeemer, who stays on earth. But the relationship
between God and the eschatological priest remains conspicuously vague. No
word about the concrete circumstances of the redeemer’s appearance: who he

7 De Jonge: “spirit of impurity.”

7 De Jonge: “the holy things.”
? De Jonge: “of a race of strangers or Gentiles.”
73 De Jonge adds: “defile virgins of Jerusalem.”
74 De Jonge adds: “purifying them with an unlawful purification.”
75 See above, chapter 1, p. 36.
72 Chapter 2

is, where he comes from, and what his relationship is to God. No ascent and no
descent, either of God or of the redeemer, and no vision. In stark contrast to the
consecration of the first priest Levi, the last priest remains completely imper-
sonal and colorless.

Similitudes of Enoch (1 Enoch 37-71)

Another book that belongs to the Enoch cycle and is firmly embedded in the
traditions provided by the Book of the Watchers as well as by Daniel is the so-
called Similitudes or Parables of Enoch (1 En. 37-71). It is no doubt of Jewish
origin and dated by most scholars to the late first century BCE or even the turn of
the era.” Presenting a hodgepodge of many earlier traditions, one of its major
characteristics is the concern for the figure of the messianic redeemer, called
here — drawing on Daniel 7 — the “Son of Man” and the “Chosen” or “Elect
One.””’ Enoch is again the human being who ascends to heaven and to whom
the heavenly secrets are revealed.
But there is not much left in the Similitudes of the ascent account so graphi-
cally described in the Book of the Watchers. We are only told that “at that time
clouds and a storm-wind snatched me up from the face of the earth and set me
down at the ends of heaven” (1 En. 39:3), a faint echo of the Book of the Watch-
ers’ dramatic story (14:8 ff.). Also, there is no mention of the heavenly Temple,
let alone of any vision of God (at least not immediately). The Similitudes’ con-
cern is with the fate of the righteous after death and Enoch’s desire to belong to
them. He first sees the dwellings of the righteous with the angels and the “holy
ones,” among them apparently also the place of the “Elect One” (39:6): “There
I desired to dwell and my soul longed for that abode; there had my lot been as-
signed before” (39:8). Hence, it becomes clear from the very beginning that En-
och’s elevation to heaven means his association with the angels; the text does
not (yet) state explicitly that he has been transformed into an angel, but it comes
close to such an idea. In a response, Enoch bursts out into praising the Lord’s
name and is deemed worthy of hearing the angels’ praise. This alternating praise
concludes with Enoch’s reaction: “And my countenance was changed until I was
unable to look” (39:14). The fear and horror that overwhelmed Enoch at sight
of the heavenly Temple (1 En. 14:13 f.) and of God seated on his throne (14:24)

’® George W.E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature between the Bible and the Mishnah (Phila-
delphia: Fortress Press, 1981), pp. 221-223; John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An
Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge: William
B. Eerdmans, 1998), p. 178, suggests now the early or mid-first century CE.
” Apparently derived from the “Servant of the Lord,” whom God has “chosen” (behartikha)
and whom he calls “my chosen one” (behiri): Isa. 41:8 f.; 42:1.
 Enoch and His Circle 73

in the Book of the Watchers is here prompted by mere sight of the angels who
praise God (although he has in fact become one himself).
The long and convoluted chapters that follow alternate between descriptions
of the angels, their dwelling places in heaven, the prayers of the righteous, rev-
elations of the secrets of heaven, and the role of the Elect One, who sits on his
own throne of glory and whose major task is to execute the divine judgment. To
be sure, the actual vision of God does occur, but it is buried under a huge amount
of quite chaotic and confusing information and is related rather in passing. The
first such vision appears in chapter 46, which suddenly opens:
(46:1) And there I saw One who had a head of days,
And his head was white like wool,
And with him was another, whose countenance had the appearance of a man,
And his face was full of graciousness, like one of the angels.

There can be no doubt that this vision is modeled along the lines of Daniel 7: the
“One who had a head of days’”’® is the “Ancient of Days” in Dan. 7:9; that “his
head was white like wool” appropriates Daniel’s “and the hair of his head was
like pure wool” (ibid.). And, of course, the “another” one who is with him and
has the appearance of a man is the “Son of a Man” (bar enash), who comes with
the clouds of heaven and to whom the Ancient of Days gives “dominion, glory,
and kingship” (Dan. 7:13 f.).”? Closely following Daniel and elaborating on his
short description of what transpires in heaven between the “Ancient of Days”
and the “Son of Man,’®° Enoch’s vision has as its hero this “Son of Man” — not
God, and certainly not Enoch. The purpose of the vision, therefore, is to convey
to Enoch the message that history has come to an end: the Son of Man will judge
the wicked and vindicate the righteous, who are registered in the “books of the
living” (46:4-47:4).®! For the author of the Similitudes, this elevated “Son of
Man” is definitely an angelic figure, not a human being.*
The second vision of God is recounted in chapter 60, which solemnly begins:
(60:1) In the year five hundred, in the seventh month, on the fourteenth (day) of the
month in the life of Enoch. ... I saw how a mighty quaking made the heaven of heav-

78 On this translation from Ethiopian, see Black, 1 Enoch, pp. 192f.

79 Interestingly enough, the precise information that this “another” has “the appearance
of a man” recalls Ezekiel’s “figure with the appearance of a human being (ke-mar’eh adam)”
(Ezek. 1:26) rather than Daniel’s ke-bar enash.
80 Black, / Enoch, p. 192, correctly observes that this Similitudes passage reads like a mi-
drash on Daniel.
81 | En. 47:3 again “quotes” Dan. 7:10: God sits on his throne of glory, the “books of the
living” are opened before him, and the angels are his council (note that the angels’ counsel was
suppressed in the Book of the Watchers; see above, p. 62).
82 Hence, one of the earliest interpretations of Dan. 7 solves the problem of the identity of
the “Son of Man,” which in no uncertain terms has occupied scores of scholars. On this prob-
lem, see John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Minneapolis, MN:
Fortress Press, 1993), pp. 310 ff., 318.
74 Chapter 2

ens to quake, and the host of the Most High, and the angels, thousands upon thousand
and myriads upon myriads, were disquieted with a great disquiet. (2) And the Chief of
Days sat on the throne of his glory, and the angels and the righteous ones stood around
him. (3) And a great trembling seized me, and fear took hold of me, and my loins gave
way, and dissolved were my reins, and I fell upon my face.

The scene that so terribly frightens Enoch would appear to be a judgment scene,
probably the last judgment. Confirming this is the fact that the righteous are
present (as angels!). Enoch is overwhelmed and responds with all the routine
signs of trembling, fear, and prostration, but this seems to be less his reaction to
the vision of God than to the sight of the punishment that God has in store for
the wicked. Moreover, it is highly doubtful that this vision originally belonged
to the Enoch cycle: the 500 years by far exceed Enoch’s life span of 365 years
and would seem to have a greater affinity to his great-grandson Noah, who was
500 years old when he begat Shem, Ham, and Japhet (Gen. 5:32). It has been
suggested, therefore, that the vision belongs to a “Noah apocalypse,” which was
interpolated into the Similitudes.®
Finally, the most grandiose vision of God in heaven is reserved for the very
last chapter of the Similitudes (ch. 71):*4
(71:1) And it came to pass after this that my spirit was translated,
And I ascended into the heavens:
And I saw the sons of the holy angels.
They were treading on flames of fire:
Their garments were white ...
And the light of their countenances (shone) like snow.
(2) And I saw two streams of fire,
And the light of that fire shone like hyacinth,
And I fell on my face before the Lord of spirits.

Enoch ascends to heaven and is struck first by sight of the angels — who are the
heavenly Watchers known from the Book of the Watchers.*° Their white gar-
ments and the snowlike brightness of their faces are again inspired by Daniel
7,%° but the imagery of God’s garment and hair in Daniel is transferred to the
angels: Enoch is apparently more interested in the angels than in God. Accord-
ingly, he prostrates — to be sure, before God, but he has not yet seen God, and

83 See Black, J Enoch, p. 225.

84 Whatever the precise relationship between chapter 71 and the bulk of the Similitudes is
(some scholars regard chapter 71 as a later addition), it seems to me that the links between the
surprising revelation at the end and the main part of the book are too close that one can sever
chapter 71 from the rest of the book.
8° Black, / Enoch, pp. 246, 251.
J The “two streams of fire” may well refer to the “river of fire” in Dan. 7: 10, although the
two in number are odd. Equally strange is the hyacinth color of these two streams of fire. Black,
1 Enoch, p. 251, derives it from the blue color of the sapphire in Ezek. 28:13, but much more
likely is the throne of God in Ezek. 1:26, which has the appearance of sapphire.
 Enoch and His Circle 75

the text only half-heartedly, or routinely, veils the fact that in reality, Enoch pays
his respect to the angels!
After the archangel Michael has shown Enoch all the secrets of the heav-
ens (71:3 f.), he is elevated to the “heaven of heavens,” presumably the highest
heaven:
(5) And he [Michael] translated my spirit, and I, Enoch, was in the heaven of
heavens,
And I saw there, in the midst of those luminaries, a house as it were built of
hailstones,
And among those hailstones tongues of fire of the living creatures.
(6) And my spirit saw the girdle which was encircling the house with fire;
On its four sides were streams filled with the fire of the /iving creatures,
And they girt that house.

Having arrived at the uppermost heaven Enoch sees the house known from the
Book of the Watchers; it is built half of ice and half of fire, clearly the first house
according to the Book of the Watchers’ topography (the hekhal of the heavenly
Temple). If Black is correct in his assumption that behind the allegedly “un-Se-
mitic” Ethiopic expression “living fire” lie the “living creatures” of Ezekiel,*’ it
would have been more appropriate for our author to have embellished his Book
of the Watchers Vorlage with a greater number of elements from Ezekiel. This
jibes with the Similitudes author’s obvious fondness for the angels, because sub-
sequent to the living creatures he mentions the seraphim, cherubim, and ophan-
nim (who guard the divine throne), countless angels according to Dan. 7:10, and
the four archangels Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, and Phanuel. The text explicitly
says that all these angels “go in and out of that house” (71:8): this, together with
the following statement that they come from this house and approach Enoch,
inclines me to suspect that meant now is the second house from the Book of the
Watchers, the Holy of Holies with God’s throne:
(9) And Michael, and Gabriel, Raphael and Phanuel,
And many holy angels without number,
Came forth from that house.
(10) And with them the Chief of Days,
His head was white and pure as wool,
And his raiment indescribable.
(11) And I fell on my face,
And my whole body became weak from fea ee
And my spirit was transformed;
And I cried with a loud voice,
With the spirit of power,
And blessed and glorified and extolled.

87 Black, 1 Enoch 1, pp. 246, 251.

88 B, Isaac, “1 (Ethiopic Apocalypse of) Enoch,” in OTP 1, p. 50, has “my whole body mol-
lified.”
76 Chapter 2

Now the scene changes from what we know from the author’s Vorlage in the
Book of the Watchers: Enoch does not prostrate himself, trembling and shak-
ing at the sight of what he sees, from the open door, in the Holy of Holies of the
heavenly Temple; rather, the four archangels, accompanied by countless angels,
and God himself approach him, presumably walking to him from the throne
chamber in the Holy of Holies to the Sanctuary in which he waits. In looking at
the spectacle of this divine procession moving toward him, Enoch falls on his
face in horror and fear. Hence, what we encounter here is a kind of reversal of
the Vorlage, the procession of God and his angels approaching him apparently
intending to honor the visionary, and his reaction is not only fear but also a feel-
ing of power and of being blessed and extolled.*? Enoch responds by praising
God and finally learns the reason for this extraordinary activity:
(12) And these blessings which went forth out of my mouth were well pleasing before
the Chief of Days. (13) And the Chief of Days came with Michael and Gabriel, Raphael
and Phanuel, and thousands and myriads of angels without number. (14) And that angel
(Michael) came to me and greeted me with his voice and said to me:
“You are the Son of Man who is born for righteousness,
And righteousness abides upon you,
And the righteousness of the Chief of Days forsakes you not.”

The climax and ultimate message of Enoch’s vision is the discovery that Enoch
himself is the Son of Man, the Chosen and Elect One, the epitome of righteous-
ness — in other words, Israel’s redeemer/Messiah. This explains his desire to
see the dwelling place of the (deceased) righteous, who have since become an-
gels, and to live among them. Enoch, the human being who ascended to heaven,
could not remain human but was transformed into an angel. So Israel’s redeemer
was indeed human, but in order to become the redeemer he needed to become
an angel. We learn little of how and when this transformation takes place. It ob-
viously occurs when the divine procession approaches him (v. 11), but the text
does not elaborate on this. Enoch trembles in anticipation of what is going to
happen to him, but the main act of transformation seems to be its announcement
by the archangel Michael (v. 14). In any case, with this confirmation of Enoch
as the Son of Man the period of everlasting peace dawns:
(15) And he (Michael) said to me:
“He proclaims to you peace in the name of the world to come;
For from hence has proceeded peace since the creation of the world,
And so shall it be to you for ever and for ever and ever.

8° If Black’s translation is correct; E. Isaac’s translation, “1 (Ethiopic Apocalyps

e of)
Enoch,” p. 50, conveys a much more traditional image: “Then I cried with a great
voice by the
spirit of power, blessing, glorifying, and extolling.”
 Enoch and His Circle T

2 Enoch

The ascent of the seer Enoch to heaven and his transformation into an angel
is also the major theme in the so-called Second Book of Enoch (2 Enoch).
The book’s literary history is more complex — and frustratingly more inextri-
cable — than is the case with most of the Jewish apocalypses pertinent to our
subject. For here we are confronted with an unusually wide gap (even for this
kind of literature) between the oldest fourteenth-century Ce manuscript in Old
Slavonic” and the original (Greek) work’s provenance, presumably from first-
century CE Egyptian Judaism.?!
As with all the texts discussed so far, the affinity to the Book of the Watchers
is evident. The major difference between 1 Enoch and 2 Enoch is that the latter
makes use of the by then conventional schema of seven heavens (instead of one
heaven); the longer of the two preserved recensions even outbids the seven with
ten heavens.” The text begins with the very moment at which Enoch has reached
his biblical age of 365 years (Gen. 5:23); hence, it is obvious that its purpose is
to explain the enigma of what happened to Enoch when he “was no more,” as
intimated in the Bible (Gen. 5:24):°°
(1:1) And at that time Enoch said, When 365 years were complete for me, (2) in the
first month, on the assigned day of the first month, I was in my house alone, (3) weep-
ing and grieving with my eyes. When I had lain down on my bed, I fell asleep. (4) And
two huge men appeared to me, the like of which I had never seen on earth.
(5) Their faces were like the shining sun;
their eyes were like burning lamps;
from his mouth” (something) like fire was coming forth;
their clothing was various singing;”°

9° For greater detail, see F. I. Andersen, “2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch,” in OTP, vol. 1,
pp. 91 ff.; André Vaillant, Le livre des secrets d’Hénoch (Paris: Institut d’Etudes Slaves, 1952),
pp. Ill ff., XIII ff.; and Andrei A. Orlov, “God’s Face in the Enochic Tradition,” in DeConick,
Paradise Now, p. 181, with n. 6.
91 Martha Himmelfarb has made a strong case for a Jewish author from first-century Alex-
andria, before the destruction of the Second Temple (Ascent to Heaven, pp. 38, 43, 85 f.). An-
dersen is much more cautious but sees some resemblance to Philo’s Therapeutae (“2 [Slavonic
Apocalypse of] Enoch,” p. 96), which coincides with Himmelfarb’s observation of certain simi-
larities between 2 Enoch and Philo.
92 On this, see Schafer, “In Heaven as It Is in Hell,” pp. 253 ff.
%3 If not otherwise indicated, all quotations are from Andersen’s translation of the shorter
version; the division of the text into chapters also follows Andersen.
°4 Longer version: “from their mouths.”
95 Andersen, “2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch,” pp. 106f., n. m, here regards the text as
“incorrigibly corrupt,” but the poetic personification of attire and objects of the heavenly equip-
ment is common in both the Qumran and the Hekhalot literature.
78 Chapter 2

their arms were like wings of gold®® —

at the head of my bed.””
And they called me by my name. (6) I got up from my sleep, and the men were stand-
ing with me in actuality. (7) Then I hurried and stood up and bowed down to them; and
the appearance of my face was glittering because of fear.”®

Here the story begins on earth, and the angels descend to earth to inform Enoch
what will happen to him (at first in his dream, and then in reality). So, unlike the
vision in the Book of the Watchers (in which Enoch is immediately lifted up to
heaven), Enoch’s first encounter with the heavenly world occurs on earth (and,
as in the Similitudes, initially with angels and not immediately with God). More-
over, again as in the Similitudes, the appearance of these angels is described
in images that were originally reserved for God: brightness of their faces, and
snowlike whiteness — this time not of their garments but of their hands. And al-
ready it is the sight of these angels that frightens him to death: when they waken
him from his sleep and he realizes they are real, he displays all the expected signs
of fear usually reserved for God and prostrates. The angels calm him and explain
that they are emissaries of God and that Enoch will ascend with them to heaven
(1:8). No doubt, the role of the angels becomes ever more important. Now they
descend to earth, proclaim to the seer his imminent ascent to heaven, and escort
him during his journey through the various heavens.
This journey is described in tiresome detail. The angels take him to every sin-
gle heaven of the seven heavens and show him what each contains (for exam-
ple, the punishment of the fallen Watchers in the second, paradise and hell in the
third, the mournful Watchers in the fifth, and the seven archangels in the sixth
heaven). Finally, he arrives at the seventh heaven:”
(20:1) And those men lifted me up from there, and they carried me up to the 7th heaven.
And I saw there an exceptionally great light, and all the fiery armies of the great archan-
gels, and the incorporeal forces and the dominions and the origins and the authorities,
the cherubim and the seraphim and the many-eyed thrones; (and) 5 regiments and the
shining otanim'™ stations. And I was terrified, and I trembled with a great fear. (2) And
those men picked me up and led me into their midst. And they said to me, “Be brave,
Enoch! Don’t be frightened!” (3) And they showed (me) the Lord, from a distance, sit-
ting on his exceedingly high throne.

ad The longer version has the more meaningful: “their wings were more glistering than
gold; their hands were whiter than snow.”
*” Longer version: “And they stood at the head of my bed.”
°8 Longer version: “and I was terrified; and the appearance of my face was changed be-
cause of fear.”
* I quote now the longer version.
'00 In almost all the Slavonic manuscripts corrupt for efannim; see Andersen, “2 (Slavonic
Apocalypse of) Enoch,” pp. 134 f., n.b.
 Enoch and His Circle 719

At first Enoch is frightened again by the sight of the heavenly hosts in all their
manifestations and ranks known to us from the Hebrew Bible and the subsequent
literature (note the “many-eyed thrones,” which obviously are transformations
of the eyes on the rims of the wheels in Ezek. 1:18, or the otanim = ofannim,
which are the wheels of the divine chariot in Ezekiel and later became a class
of angels all their own). The angels calm him and show him God seated on his
throne, but still from a distance. In the longer recension this is the distance be-
tween the seventh heaven, where Enoch is located, and the tenth heaven, where
God resides (explicitly called ‘Aravot);'®! in the shorter recension all this takes
place in the seventh heaven.
Enoch sees, still from a distance, the ever-present angels surrounding the
divine throne and hears the cherubim and seraphim singing the trishagion of
Isa. 6:3 (ch. 21). The angels serving as his guide now tell him they must leave
and, terrified, Enoch prostrates again: “And the men went away from me, and
from then on I did not see them anymore. But I, I remained alone at the edge of
the seventh heaven. And I became terrified; and I fell on my face, and I said in
myself, “Woe to me! What has happened to me?’” (21:2). This second prostration
(following the first one when he recognizes the angels sent to him on earth) is in
response to the departure of the angels guiding him through the seven heavens.
Hence, Enoch prostrates twice before the angels, not (yet) before God, a fact that
undoubtedly highlights the importance of the angels in 2 Enoch.'°* Now God
sends the archangel Gabriel to bring him before God, but Enoch, in some odd
delaying tactics, asks for the return of the angels who had just left him. Interest-
ingly enough, and again underscoring the prominence of the angels in 2 Enoch,
Enoch addresses Gabriel as follows: “Woe to me, my Lord!” (21:4) — that is, by
the title generally reserved for God.'°’ Gabriel ignores Enoch’s delaying tactics
and carries him up “like a leaf carried up by the wind. He moved me along and
put me down in front of the face of the Lord” (21:5). Enoch has arrived at his
destination in the seventh heaven (shorter recension) or the tenth heaven (longer
recension):
(22:1) And on the 10th heaven, Aravoth, I saw the view of the face of the Lord, like
iron made burning hot in a fire and brought out, and it emits sparks and is incandes-

101 The word ‘aravot is biblical and used for a desert or steppe, but a phrase like “He [God]
who rides ‘aravor’ (Ps. 68:5) is usually explained as God riding on the clouds of heaven. In the
Hekhalot literature ‘aravot becomes the terminus technicus for the uppermost (seventh) heaven,
the full name of which is ‘arevot ragia‘, namely, the (seventh) heaven, which is called ‘aravot;
see Schafer, “In Heaven as It Is in Hell,” p. 272.
102 To be sure, “the intensity of Enoch’s fear at being left without his guides serves to em-
phasize the magnitude of what takes place next” (namely the vision of God himself), as Him-
melfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 40, argues, but it is more than just this: italso serves to emphasize
the significance of the angels.
13 As has also been noticed by Andersen, “2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch,” p. 136,
n.h.
80 Chapter 2

cent. Thus even I saw the face of the Lord. But the face of the Lord is not to be talked
about, it is so very marvellous and supremely awesome and supremely frightening. (2)
And who am I to give an account of the incomprehensible being of the Lord, and of
his face, so extremely strange and indescribable? And how many are his commands,
and his multiple voice, and the Lord’s throne, supremely great and not made by hands,
and the choir stalls all around him, the cherubim and the seraphim armies, and their
never-silent singing. (3) Who can give an account of his beautiful appearance, never
changing and indescribable, and his great glory? (4) And I fell down flat and did obei-
sance to the Lord.

The vision’s climax — the description of God sitting on his throne — has finally
been attained. It begins with Enoch seeing not just God but, most concretely,
God’s face. This is a deliberate departure from — or rather a well-considered ob-
jection to — the biblical principle, “But you cannot see my face (et-panai), for
man (adam) may not see me and live” (Ex. 33:20). True, the author of our apo-
calypse argues, Moses could not see God’s face, but in contrast to Moses, the
antediluvian hero Enoch could see God’s face. So, according to our vision, the
biblical statement needs to be qualified: the man Moses may not see God and
live; however, the man Enoch, who will soon be transformed into an angel, may
indeed see God and live. Enoch, therefore, is greater than Moses.!™
Yet we do not learn much about the physical shape of God’s face, only that
it looks like white-hot iron — quite a prosaic image for the brightness of God’s
face. We know, since Ezekiel, that fire imagery is the most common metaphor
used to describe the figure of God, but to compare God’s face with a fiery piece
of iron is not particularly imaginative. The image of ironworks is intensified yet
more by the sparks that the iron emits; one can hardly avoid the mental picture
of heated iron struck by an ironworker to give it shape — not the most flattering
image for God’s face. The short recension, to be sure, contains nothing of this.
It contents itself with telling us, almost laconically, that Enoch “saw the Lord”
and that his face was “strong and very glorious” (22:1).!%
Immediately after this bizarre climax comes the anticlimax. It is not that
Enoch is incapable of grasping just what he saw but that he was deemed wor-
thy of seeing God’s face. In other words, immediately after reporting the fact

'* Orlov, “God’s Face,” p. 187, draws the opposite conclusion. He reads Ex. 33 in the light
of 2 Enoch and suggests that in fact, “the Exodus account implicitly asserts that Moses could
see the divine form.” It is one thing to argue (following Moshe Weinfeld) that “the warning
about the danger of seeing the Deity usually affirms the possibility of such an experience” —a
proposition that certainly makes sense — and another thing to conclude therefrom an affinity
between Ex. 33 and 2 Enoch on the basis of some Mesopotamian parallels. The message of Ex.
33 is that “man” cannot see God’s face, possible earlier layers of this text and implicit polemics
notwithstanding, and the message of 2 Enoch is that Enoch may see God’s face.
a Andersen, “2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch,” pp. 136f., n. c, points out that the Sla-
vonic manuscripts betray “the embarrassment of scribes over this attempt to describe the ap-
pearance of the Lord.” He believes that the comparison of God’s face with hot iron
is original
and was heavily censored in the short manuscripts.
 Enoch and His Circle 81

of Enoch’s seeing God’s face, the author of our apocalypse begins reflecting on
this marvel. He starts by “humbly” pointing out that “even” he, Enoch, saw the
face of the Lord, certainly knowing quite well that Enoch is the first (and only?)
human being ever to be granted this privilege. And then he caps it all by stating
there is no way of communicating what he saw because in fact the face is inde-
scribable. He soon resorts to enumerating the traditional inventory of the seventh
heaven (for example, the divine throne, the incessantly singing cherubim and
seraphim, the choir stalls — the latter, however, seeming to owe their appearance
here to the structure of a medieval monastery rather than to that of a heavenly
throne chamber), and finally decides to react to the vision of God with the cus-
tomary prostration. But God is not yet finished with him:
(22:5) And the Lord, with his own mouth, said to me, “Be brave, Enoch! Stand up, and
stand in front of my face forever.” (6) And Michael, the Lord’s archistratig,!” lifted me
up and brought me in front of the face of the Lord. And the Lord said to his servants,
sounding them out, “Let Enoch join in and stand in front of my face forever!” (7) And
the Lord’s glorious ones did obeisance and said, “Let Enoch yield in accordance with
your word, O Lord!”

That God speaks to Enoch “with his own mouth” is an obvious reference to
the Book of the Watchers (1 En. 14:24), where God calls Enoch “with his own
mouth” from the heavenly Holy of Holies, and there it is also an angel (although
not Michael) who brings him to the door that leads to the divine throne cham-
ber. But whereas in the Book of the Watchers Enoch does not enter the throne
chamber, here he is ushered directly before God’s face, in immediate physical
proximity to God. Moreover, quite unlike in the Book of the Watchers, which
stresses that God “had no need of counsel” (14:22), our author has God consult
his heavenly assembly, asking and at the same time commanding the angels to let
Enoch join their ranks and stand before God forever. This no doubt is the mes-
sage of Enoch’s vision of God: that he is chosen to become one of the angels.!%”
The strange “conversation” between God and his angels — the question that is ac-
tually a command, and the angels’ vaguely reluctant obedience — is reminiscent
of the rabbinic interpretation of Gen. 1:26, which understands the biblical verse
as God’s question to the angels (“Shall we make man in our image, after our

106 A Slavonic military title not translated by Andersen; it is obviously derived from Greek
archistrategos, “commander in chief.”
107 But I do not think that Enoch’s angelification is the direct result of his vision, as Andrew
Chester has suggested (Messiah and Exaltation: Jewish Messianic and Visionary Traditions and
New Testament Christology [Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007], p. 67), nor do I believe that God’s
invitation to Enoch to stand before his face “forever” should be taken too literally (ibid.); after
all, Enoch must return to earth and will resume his heavenly existence only later. Chester, in
his monumental book, has collected anew all kinds of the evidence from Second Temple litera-
evolving
ture related to the transformation of human beings, with a view to the question of an
in the
Christology. Extremely useful as his survey is, my approach differs in that it is interested
full context of the phenomenon and not in isolated quotations.
82 Chapter 2

likeness?”).!°8 Whereas according to the rabbinic literature most angels object

to God’s request and argue against man’s creation,'” here the angels immedi-
ately obey and accept Enoch as one of them.!!° What yet remains is his physical
transformation into an angel:
(22:8) And the Lord said to Michael, “Go, and extract Enoch from his earthly cloth-
ing. And anoint him with my delightful oil, and put him into the clothes of my glory.”
(9) And so Michael did, just as the Lord had said to him. He anointed me and he clothed
me. And the appearance of that oil is greater than the greatest light, and its ointment
is like sweet dew, and its fragrance myrrh; and it is like the rays of the glittering sun.
(10) And I looked at myself, and I had become like one of the glorious ones, and there
was no observable difference.

The closest parallel to Enoch’s transformation is Levi’s consecration as priest.'"!

But even if Enoch’s anointing and clothing suggests that he is consecrated a
priest as well,'!? the priestly connotation here is much less prominent than in
the Testament of Levi. Like Levi, who is first clothed and then anointed, Enoch
receives his new clothes before his anointment.!!? However, whereas Levi is
clothed in the full regalia of the high priest, Enoch’s clothes play no significant
role; they are “just” the clothes of God’s glory (and not necessarily of the priest-
hood). Moreover, whereas in the Testament of Levi the anointment is mentioned
only in passing, here it has become the most important element of the transfor-
mation and is described in highly elevated prose: not only is the ointment like
sweet dew (a comparison not found in the Bible) and its fragrance myrrh (this
is biblical, the myrrh being one of the spices in the sacred anointing oil for the
consecration of the Tabernacle and Aaron and his sons),'!* the oil also shines
as brightly as the sun. Here the oil seems to invest Enoch with a quality usually
reserved for the appearance of God and the angels; through the holy oil and the
appropriate clothes he becomes one of the “glorious ones” — or, more precisely,
he is physically transformed into one of the highest angels, which serve in the
uppermost (seventh or tenth) heaven.
That the oil has a particularly transformative effect in particular on Enoch’s
face and makes it “incandescent,” like God’s face (22:1), is confirmed later
'08 Because of the plural na ‘aseh, commonly translated as “Let us make man,” but the rabbis
had a problem with this divine plural and interpreted it as a question directed at the angels.
1 Schafer, Rivalitdt, pp. 75 ff.
110 Some of the Slavonic manuscripts still disclose the rabbinic opposition of the angels to
the creation of man; see Andersen, “2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch,” p. 138, n. 1, who was
unaware of this background. Also, in the much later (and “rabbinized’’) 3 Enoch, the
angels
need some divine “persuasion” to accept God’s command; see below, pp. 319 ff.
"Il See above, p. 70.
"2 Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 40.
Me Himmelfarb, ibid., observes that the sequence in both the Testament
of Levi and 2 Enoch
of (1) clothing and (2) anointing is in striking contrast to the biblical instructio
ns for the con-
secration of Aaron as high priest (Ex. 29).
ee ex. 30222229:
 Enoch and His Circle 83

in the apocalypse when God commands Enoch to descend to earth once more
and impart knowledge to his sons and grandchildren. God entrusts an angel to
physically chill his face, for “if your face had rot been chilled here [in heaven],
no human being would be able to look at your face” (37:2). Enoch is no longer
human, at least in the fullest sense of the word, and accordingly requires no food.
During his stay on earth, when his son Methuselah prepares him food, Enoch
explains to him: “Listen child! Since the time when the Lord anointed me with
the ointment of his glory, food has not come into me, and earthly pleasure my
soul does not remember; nor do I desire anything earthly” (56:2).
Hence, in order to attain the closest possible proximity to God, Enoch needs to
be transformed into an angel of highest rank. It is the sacred oil in particular that
has the desired effect; the clothes of God’s glory, in which he is dressed follow-
ing the anointment, complete the transformation. The oil causes his face to shine
like the faces of the angels, which in turn shine like the face of God. That there
is a full physical transformation and that Enoch not only Jooks like the angels is
confirmed by the almost surprised final statement: “and there was no observable
difference.” Enoch is an angel, in the full sense of the word. But still the text
remains conspicuously vague with regard to the question of how this transfor-
mation affects his body. To be sure, he ascended into heaven with his body, but
it is not entirely clear whether or not he keeps it.!!> If we take literally his being
stripped of his earthly clothes and subsequently being invested with new heav-
enly garb, one might assume that he remains in his body and just receives new
clothes. But the old and new “clothes” may well be referring to two completely
different states of existence, one human with a human body and the other angelic
with no human body. However, since Enoch must return to earth for a period of
thirty days in order to teach his sons (chs. 36 ff.), he apparently keeps his body
or else returns to his body for a limited time. Nevertheless, even during this new
earthly existence, he no longer needs food, as we have just seen. It would seem,
therefore, that the text here is not fully consistent or that the different manuscript
traditions reflect different attitudes or at least a certain ambiguity with regard to
the question of Enoch’s bodily transformation. Obviously, 2 Enoch is in the pro-
cess of a complete bodily transformation of its hero; but it may not yet have fully
grasped the consequences and implications of such an idea. One thing, however,
remains clear: as close as Enoch comes to God, he does not become like God, let
alone enter into some kind of union with him. Enoch and God remain distinct,
as distinct as God and his angels.

115 See the discussion in Andersen, “2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch,” pp. 138 f. (n. 1-q).
Philip Alexander is convinced that the Enoch of 2 Enoch definitely ascended bodily to heaven;
see his “From Son of Adam to Second God: Transformations of the Biblical Enoch,” in Michael
E. Stone and Theodore A. Bergren, eds., Biblical Figures Outside the Bible (Harrisville, PA:
Trinity Press International, 1998), p. 104.
84 Chapter 2

To sum up, Enoch in the Book of the Watchers is the first human being to
experience fully a heavenly ascent. Remarkably, it is not Elijah, the other bibli-
cal figure who was mysteriously taken up into heaven (2 Kings 2: 11), who has
been chosen for this task but the antediluvian hero Enoch. With this ascent he
attains to the entrance of the Holy of Holies of the heavenly Temple, where God
resides on his lofty throne. Yet the goal of his ascent is not a vision of God — in
fact, Enoch does not see all that much of God (less than Ezekiel) and must con-
tent himself with the divine garment — but, as in Ezekiel, an audition: God has
chosen him as his divine messenger to convey his judgment to the fallen Watch-
ers — and, on a higher level, to convey to the community of Israel his critique of
the earthiy Temple. Enoch as an individual plays no particular role. He acts as
God’s tool — nothing more, nothing less. Accordingly, the author of the book is
not concerned about Enoch’s individual experience and state of mind; any at-
tempt to read the vision as an account of Enoch’s or even the author’s (or circle
of authors’) ecstatic experience is misguided and imposes categories on the text
that are alien to it.
The same is true for the (much less vivid) vision of Levi in the Testament of
Levi: the primary goal of the narrative is not a description of the vision, let alone
of the visionary’s mental state, but the future of the people of Israel, more pre-
cisely of the Temple and its priests. Ultimately, Israel will be redeemed by an
eschatological priest whose priesthood will endure forever.
In the Similitudes, certain new elements are added. First, the importance of
the angels increases: they are invested with insignia (garments, brightness, fire)
that are typically reserved for God. Second, the importance of the visionary in-
creases: instead of standing (or rather falling down) horrified at the entrance of
the Holy of Holies and surreptitiously peeking at God on his throne, God and his
angels set out to move toward him and greet him as the Son of Man, that is, as
Israel’s redeemer. To reach this stage, Enoch needs to be physically transformed
into an angel. The Similitudes are still rather vague about this process, but a first
step in this direction is taken.
Both these characteristics are reinforced in 2 Enoch. There, Enoch even pros-
trates before the angels until he finally attains to God in the seventh (or tenth)
heaven; and he is fully and quite graphically transformed into an angel with “no
observable difference.” Yet, to be sure, he becomes an angel and as such remains
entirely within the framework and nomenclature of the Hebrew Bible: in order
to approach God as closely as he does, he cannot and must not remain a human
being; although, strictly speaking, his transformation is achieved through his
new clothes and the oil with which he is anointed — there is no unambiguous
mention of his bodily transformation!!*® (unless one chooses to understand the

"6 Which becomes so important in 3 Enoch; see below, p. 320.

 Enoch and His Circle 85

removal of his “earthly clothing” as signifying the transformation of his body as

well). In any case, his transformation has nothing to do with an attempt to ex-
press some kind of physical union with God.
 Chapter 3

Enoch’s Companions
From the Community to the Individual

One of the major motivating forces behind the visions of Ezekiel and the earlier
circle around the antediluvian hero Enoch is anxiety about the future destiny of
the Temple as the center of Israel. Expecting the immediate destruction of the
earthly Temple, Ezekiel sees God on his chariot-throne roaming through the cos-
mos and, in response, designs the model of the future Temple; the Book of the
Watchers has Enoch ascend to heaven and observe the true and perfect Temple
service in heaven; and the Testament of Levi uses Levi’s investiture and conse-
cration as priest in heaven as a way of denouncing the corrupt priests on earth.
This Temple-critical motif recedes in the Similitudes and 2 Enoch, but still, in
both apocalypses heaven is modeled after the Temple, and concern for the fate
of Israel remains dominant. Moreover, both apocalypses include an additional
element that was alien to the earlier works: the transformation of the visionary
into an angel. The Similitudes retell Enoch’s ascent in the Book of the Watchers
in order to transform him into an angel and identify him with Israel’s ultimate re-
deemer; 2 Enoch likewise transforms Enoch into an angel of the highest rank to
reveal to him the future history and all the marvels of heaven. It is only through
the emphasis placed on the motif of the ascending hero’s righteousness — in
the Similitudes, in particular, Enoch is presented as the paragon of righteous-
ness — that we can guess at the emerging concern for the destiny of the individual
who undertakes the heavenly journey.
The apocalypses discussed in this chapter continue along the route established
by their predecessors, Ezekiel and the Enoch circle, but witha growing emphasis
on the individualistic element. My survey includes the Apocalypse of Abraham,
the Ascension of Isaiah, the Apocalypse of Zephaniah, and the Apocalypse of
John, all of which originated around the end of the first or the beginning of the
second century CE.

Apocalypse of Abraham

The Apocalypse of Abraham still follows the older Temple-critical tradition

and
shows no sign of any shift toward the individual (it also lacks the explicit
physi-
 Enoch’s Companions 87

cal transformation so prominent in the Similitudes and 2 Enoch, as well as in

some of the other apocalypses to be discussed). Like 2 Enoch, the Apocalypse of
Abraham is preserved in an Old Slavonic translation only, the manuscripts dating
from the fourteenth to the seventeenth centuries. Its original language is Hebrew
and it was probably composed in Palestine sometime after 70 cE, because the
destruction of the Temple is mentioned (ch. 27).! Despite some Christian inter-
polation (ch. 29), the Jewish provenance of the work seems very likely.”
The apocalypse begins with Abraham living as a boy in his father Terah’s
house in Ur in Mesopotamia. The Hebrew Bible does not tell us much about this
early period in Abraham’s (or rather Abram’s) life, only that he had two broth-
ers, one of whom died during the lifetime of Terah while still in Ur; that Abram
and his remaining brother took wives; and that Abram’s wife Sarai was barren
(Gen. 11:26—29). Following this rather meager information we learn that Terah,
together with his son Abram, his daughter-in-law Sarai, and his grandson Lot
(the son of the deceased son), left Ur for the land of Canaan. The postbiblical
Jewish tradition, however, knows much more about Abraham’s childhood in
Ur. The Apocalypse of Abraham? recounts the long story of Abraham’s encoun-
ter with his father Terah’s idols, his gradual discovery of the vanity of idolatry,
and his desperate search for the one true God. After a dramatic prayer to this
still unknown God, he hears the “voice of the Mighty One” coming down from
heaven and identifying himself as the “God, the Creator” whom Abraham seeks
(8:1—3). He orders Abraham to leave his father’s house because it will soon be
burned down.
The “voice” continues to speak to Abraham (ch. 9), and what it says is mod-
eled on Gen. 15, the so-called covenant between the pieces. In fact, the entire
narrative in the Apocalypse of Abraham is a graphic dramatization of the en-
igmatic phrase that opens Gen. 15: “the word of the Lord came to Abram in a
vision (ba-mahazeh),” with its apparent tension between the spoken word and
the seen vision, in other words, between an audition and a vision. In the Bible,
Abram hears God speaking to him but does not see him; this audition, however,
is accompanied by certain visual elements (the stars in heaven, the smoking
oven, the flaming torch passing between the pieces). Likewise, in the Apoca-
lypse of Abraham the seer only hears God, who nevertheless promises him that
he “will see great things, which you have not seen” (9:6; see also v. 9).* The vi-

! Ryszard Rubinkiewicz, “Apocalypse of Abraham,” in O7P, vol. 1, pp. 681 ff.

2 A. Pennington, “The Apocalypse of Abraham,” in H.F.D. Sparks, The Apocryphal Old
Testament (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), p. 365.
3 For parallels in the rabbinic and related literature see Louis Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews,
vol. 1, (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1909, repr. 1947), pp. 209 ff.; G.H. Box with
J.I. Landsman, The Apocalypse of Abraham (London: SPCK, 1919), Appendix 1, pp. 88-94.
4 If not indicated otherwise, all quotations are from Rubinkiewicz, “Apocalypse of Abra-
ham,” in OTP, vol. 1, pp. 689 ff.
88 Chapter 3

sion, which is only intimated in Genesis, finally materializes in the Apocalypse

of Abraham.
The first and most startling step in this materialization is the sudden appear-
ance of the angel Iaoel. After Abraham has responded to the voice of God with
the appropriate prostration (10:2: “And my spirit was amazed, and my soul fled
from me. And I became like a stone, and fell face down upon the earth, for there
was no longer strength in me to stand up on the earth”), he hears God command-
ing the angel Iaoel to ““consecrate”> Abraham and to “strengthen him against his
trembling” (10:3). Iaoel does as commanded, strengthens Abraham, and tells
him that he will accompany him to the highest heaven to meet God (10:8 f.). This
is routine. But what goes far beyond the usual pattern of the angel(s) coming
down to earth and leading the seer up through the seven heavens is the identity
of the angel Iaoel. First of all, Iaoel’s name is explicitly identified as the “same
name,’ that is, the same name as God’s name (10:3) — which is certainly correct,
because “Jao” is the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew Tetragrammaton YHWH’
and the ending “-el” (literally “God’’) the customary theophoric ending of many
Hebrew names; hence, the name of God is represented twice in the angel’s name
Iaoel. This close relationship between God and his angel Iaoel, as indicated by
the angel’s name, is further emphasized by the fact that God commands Iaoel
to “consecrate” Abraham “through the mediation of my ineffable name” (10:3):
Jaoel bears God’s name, and it is this name that empowers him. Finally, and most
important, Iaoel is from the very beginning of his encounter with Abraham de-
scribed as someone who appears to him “in the likeness of a man” (10:4). This,
of course, is a direct allusion to the figure “in the likeness of a man” (ke-mar’eh
adam) sitting on the throne above the expanse above the heads of the four crea-
tures in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezek. 1:26). God’s angel Iaoel, who bears his name,
in fact looks like God!* This surprising aspect climaxes in the following more
precise description of the angel:
(11:1) And I stood up and saw him [Iaoel] who had taken my right hand and set me on
my feet. (2) The appearance of his body was like sapphire, and the aspect of his face
was like chrysolite, and the hair of his head like snow. (3) And a kidaris? (was) on his

° Pennington, “Apocalypse of Abraham,” p. 376, translates “sanctify.”

° Only in Rubinkiewicz’s translation.
7 See Peter Schiifer, Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient
World (Cam-
bridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997), p. 52, with n. 128 (p.
232).
8 The text may also allude to the ke-var-enash (“like a human being” in Dan.
7:13, tradi-
tionally “misunderstood” as “like a Son of a Man”), but the continuation
makes clear that it has
Ezekiel in mind rather than Daniel.
2 Pennington, “Apocalypse of Abraham,” p. 377, translates: “and
there was a linen band
about his head.” Rubinkiewicz, “Apocalypse of Abraham,” p.
694, n. b, refers to the Septu-
agint’s use of the Greek kidaris for “headdress” (Ex. 28:39, 39:28), “turban” (Zech. 3:
“cap” (Ezek. 44:18), iaepapebti stios os
 Enoch’s Companions 89

head, its look that of a rainbow, and the clothing of his garments (was) purple; and a
golden staff! (was) in his right hand.

Iaoel’s sapphire-like body no doubt references the throne on which God is

seated in Ezekiel (1:26): “Above the expanse that was over their heads was the
shape (demut) of a throne with the appearance (ke-mar ’eh) of sapphire-stone,”
which, as we have seen, recalls the “sapphire-brick” in Ex. 24:10 under God’s
feet in heaven.'! The appearance of his face like chrysolite is reminiscent of the
wheels of Ezekiel’s chariot (1:16), which were like chrysolite (tarshish), and
the snowlike color of the angel’s hair refers to God’s hair in Dan. 7:9. Iaoel’s
clothes combine priestly and royal elements: the headdress resembles Aaron’s
turban, and the staff may well refer to Aaron’s rod in the story of the confron-
' tation with the pharaoh (Ex. 7:9, 19f.; 8:1, 12), as has been suggested by Him-
melfarb.'* The purple color of his garments, however, would seem to allude to
royal rather than priestly attire, and the staff may as well be a scepter. Hence, I
do not wish to overstress the priestly connotations. The rainbow, again, may in-
deed be part of the scene’s priestly connotations,'* but we should not forget that
the “bow in the clouds” was also used to describe the fiery radiance surround-
ing God on his throne in Ezekiel (1:28). The rainbow, therefore, is also associ-
ated with God, and it is hardly accidental that in Genesis it seals the covenant
with Noah (Gen. 9:12), the renewed covenant with Adam’s offspring, survivor
of the deluge.
Following the biblical Vorlage of Gen. 15, Abraham must now prepare a sac-
rifice for God. The prescribed sacrificial animals are those listed in Gen. 15:9
(Apocalypse of Abraham 9:5 and 12:6), but, in contrast to its Vorlage, the apo-
calypse knows the precise location where the sacrifice takes place: it is Mount
Horeb (= Sinai), which Abraham and the angel reach after a journey of forty
days. Hence, Abraham is identified with Moses, and his sacrifice and subse-
quent ascent to heaven reenacts (or rather prefigures) Moses’s ascent to Mount
Sinai. As prescribed in the Bible, Abraham slaughters the animals and cuts them
into halves, with the exception of the birds (Gen. 15:10; Apocalypse of Abra-
ham 12:8). Whereas the Bible gives no reason for the different treatment of the
birds, our apocalypse comes up with a quite surprising rationale: their wings
will be used for Abraham’s and the angel’s impending ascent to heaven. More
concretely, they are not part of the sacrifice to God but are to be given to the
angel as tools in their ascent: “The turtledove and the pigeon you will give to
me [Iaoel], for I will ascend on the wings of the birds to show you (what) is in
the heavens, on the earth and in the sea, in the abyss, and in the lower depths, in
10 Rubinkiewicz, ibid., n. c, also suggests “scepter.”
s that have
1! Pennington, “Apocalypse of Abraham,” p. 377, n. 1, mentions two manuscript
only his feet being like sapphire.
12 Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 62.
3 Tbid.
90 Chapter 3

the garden of Eden and in its rivers, in the fullness of the universe” (Apocalypse
of Abraham 12:10).
The brief biblical note that “birds of prey came down upon the carcasses, and
Abraham drove them away” (Gen. 15:11) is expanded into a longer narrative
about Azazel’s attempt to intervene and Abraham’s success in fending him off
(ch. 13 f.); this might allude to the story of the fallen Watchers. Then the biblical
“smoking oven” and “flaming torch” passing between the pieces (Gen. 15:17)
are transformed respectively into a “smoke like that of a furnace” and angels,
who take the divided pieces and ascend with them from the top of the smoking
furnace to heaven (Apocalypse of Abraham 15:1) — obviously so as to bring them
before God. Now, instead of the brief declaration of the covenant in the Bible
(Gen. 15:18—21), comes finally the description of Abraham’s ascent to heaven:
(15:2) And the angel took me with his right hand and set me on the right wing of the
pigeon and he himself sat on the left wing of the turtledove, (both of) which were as
if neither slaughtered nor divided.'* (3) And he carried me up to the edge of the fiery
flames. (4) And we ascended as if (carried) by many winds to the heaven that is fixed
on the expanses. (5) And I saw on the air to whose height we had ascended a strong
light which can not be described. (6) And behold, in this light 7 saw a burning fire of
people — many people, males all of them.!> (7) They all were changing in aspect and
shape, running and changing form and prostrating themselves and crying aloud words!®
I did not know.

Having arrived at the heaven’s apex, the first thing Abraham sees is a bright
light, and in the midst of this light the heavenly host. Since Ezekiel, the fiery
composition of this heavenly arsenal is routine; what is conspicuous, however, is
the ever-changing form of the angels: Abraham arrives at a scene that seems to
describe the heavenly /iturgy of the angels, a grandiose choreography of angels
changing, running, prostrating, and singing on the stage of heaven. Although he
does not understand their praise, he sees its visualization in the angelic choreo-
graphy. The appropriate response, again, is fear (but note that this fear responds
to the vision of the angels, not of God!):
(16:1) And I said to the angel, “Why is it you now brought me here? For now I can no
longer see, because I am weakened and my spirit is departing from me.” (2) And he
said to me, “Remain with me, do not fear. (3) He whom you will see coming directly
toward us in a great sound of sanctification!” is the Eternal One who has loved you.
(4) You will not look at him himself.'* But let your spirit not weaken,!? for I am with
you, strengthening you.”

Some manuscripts omit “as if.”

The translation of v. 6 follows Pennington rather than Rubinkiewicz.
Pennington, “Apocalypse of Abraham,” p. 380, has “in a language.”
Pennington, ibid.: “with a great and holy voice.”
Pennington, ibid., n. 4: “But himself you will not see.”
Some manuscripts add “because of the shouting.”
 Enoch ’s Companions 91

It is the praise of the angels that frightens Abraham, not the vision of God. To
the contrary, the text makes it abundantly clear that Abraham does not in fact see
God: “But himself you will not see.” This unambiguous statement immediately
recalls God’s instruction to Moses: “but my face must not be seen” (Ex. 33:23).
Abraham in heaven is indeed like Moses in the wilderness; he cannot and must
not see God (a definite statement that is highly unusual in the apocalypses we
have encountered thus far). The climax of the vision confirms this interpreta-
tion:
(17:1) And while he was still speaking, behold the fire coming toward us round about,
and a voice was in the fire like a voice of many waters, like a voice of the sea in its up-
roar. (2) And the angel knelt down with me and worshiped. (3) And I wanted to fall face
down on the earth. And the place of highness on which we were standing now stopped
on high, now rolled down low.” (4) And he said, “Only worship, Abraham, and recite
the song which I taught you.” (5) Since there was no ground to which I could fall pros-
trate, I only bowed down, and I recited the song which he had taught me. (6) And he
said, “Recite without ceasing.”

The vision does not go beyond the all-encompassing fire; God is not seen but
only heard — the vision turns into an audition. What God says does not yet mat-
ter, but his voice is terribly frightening — “like a voice of many waters” is a di-
rect quotation from Ezek. 1:24, where the creatures’ wings sound “like the voice
of many waters,” a description that is immediately followed by “like the voice
of Shaddai,” namely God — and demands not only prostration but also joining
in with the praise of the angels. Ceaseless singing would seem an odd response
to what the visionary sees and hears; however, it is the only way to survive the
terrifying experience and not to be devoured, literally and physically, by God’s
fire, which surrounds Abraham and the angel. Abraham and Iaoel indeed sing a
long song of praise (17:8-21), to which ultimately the fire and the voice in the
midst of the fire respond. A right and proper song causes the fire to soar up to
ever higher heights: “And as I was still reciting the song, the tongues of fire on
the expanse rose up higher. And I heard a voice like the roaring of the sea, and
it did not cease from the plenitude of the fire” (18:1 f.). Abraham/Iaoel and the
blazing fire with the roaring voice engage in an antiphonal chant between God
and his creature.
angel,
The text fails to state explicitly that Abraham is transformed into an
precisel y this, that he indeed
but it is likely that his joint song with Iaoel means
,
had to become an angel in order to participate in the heavenly liturgy. Moreover
liturgy, because it is
his and Iaoel’s song seems to mark the peak of the angelic
the voice from
only after they have finished their song that the divine fire with
step further and sug-
its midst reacts to the heavenly praise. One might even go a
have fallen prostrate on
20 Pennington, “Apocalypse of Abraham,” p. 380: “And I would lifted itself up
, at one moment
the ground; but the place on the height, where we were standing
and at the next sank back again.”
92 Chapter 3

gest that it is only after the human-angelic Abraham, God’s beloved, has lent his
voice to and enriched the angels’ praise that the heavenly song attains the peak
to which God’s voice in the fire responds with such delight.
It is obvious, and has been noticed by Scholem and others, that some of the
distinctive characteristics of the Apocalypse of Abraham are amazingly close to
those of the Hekhalot literature. Scholem refers, among other things, to God’s
voice from the fire “like a voice of many waters, like a voice of the sea in its
uproar” (17:1), which resembles the song of praise sung by God’s throne to God
the King, in Hekhalot Rabbati (“like the voice of the waters,’ like the roar of
the rushing streams, like the waves of Tarshish when the south wind sets them
in uproar’),”? or to Iaoel’s function in the Apocalypse of Abraham, which indeed
resembles the role that the angel Metatron plays in many texts of the Hekhalot
literature.*? It seems to me, however, that the closest parallel between the Apo-
calypse of Abraham and the Hekhalot literature consists in the importance that is
attached to the participation of the visionary in the heavenly liturgy — the trans-
formation that the visionary undergoes through this participation and, most im-
portant, the visible divine reaction to the heavenly liturgy as augmented by the
active participation of the seer/initiate.*4 I have called this event unio liturgica,
the liturgical communion of the Merkavah mystic, as Israel’s emissary, with
God.*° Although the Apocalypse of Abraham does not go as far as the Hekhalot
literature, the similarity between both texts cannot be overlooked.”°
The fire blazing up as a result of the song intoned by Abraham and Iaoel re-
veals the immediate surroundings of God, but still not God himself (emphasiz-
ing yet again that God cannot be seen): the throne of fire, the “many-eyed ones,”
the four creatures, and the chariot with its wheels of fire, all “full of eyes” (ch.
18). This description is heavily influenced by Ezekiel and strongly emphasizes
the fiery appearance of the heavenly entourage and their song “like the voice of
a single man” (18:14).*” Now, finally, God speaks to Abraham from the fire and
shows him, who is looking down from the seventh heaven to earth, the future of
humankind in general and of his descendants in particular. The Temple, or rather
the desecration of the Temple by idolatry, plays a major role in this revelation

*I “Waters” only in one manuscript; the other manuscripts have “oceans.”

2 Peter Schafer, ed., Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur (Ttibingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Sie-
beck], 1981), § 162.
* Scholem, Major Trends, pp. 52, 58f. See below, pp. 294 ff.; 318 ff.
4 See Peter Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God: Some Major Themes in Early Jewish
Mysticism (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1992), p. 18.
5 Thid.,p. 165.
*° Himmelfarb suggests (Ascent to Heaven, p. 64) that “the Apocalypse of Abraham
treats
the song sung by the visionary as part of the means of achieving ascent.” This does
indeed be-
Solis important in the Hekhalot literature, but I do not think it plays
a role here.
Completely new, however, is the information that the four creatures threaten
each other
and that it is Taoel’s task to pacify them by teaching them the “song
of peace” (18:11). This
strange aspect requires further clarification,
 Enoch’s Companions 93

of the future history. It is the irony of human history — this is the message of the
revelation — that Abraham’s descendants will sink into the same idolatry as that
practiced by Abraham’s father, Terah: “I saw there the likeness of the idol of
jealousy, like a carpenter’s figure such as my father used to make, and its body
was of glittering copper, and before it a man, and he was worshiping it. And
(there was) an altar opposite it and boys being slaughtered on it in the face of
the idol” (25:1 f.). The only appropriate response to this decline of the Temple
is its destruction:
(27:1) And I looked and I saw, and behold the picture swayed. And from its left side a
crowd of heathens ran out and they captured the men, women, and children who were
on its right side. (2) And some they slaughtered and others they kept with them. (3) Be-
hold, I saw (them) running to them for four generations,”* and they burned the Temple
with fire, and they plundered the holy things that were in it.

This refers to the destruction of the First Temple, which in reality, however, is
the destruction of the Second Temple. The apocalypse concludes with the tra-
ditional repertoire: the last judgment, the final tribulations, and the salvation of
the righteous, including the coming of the “Chosen One.””? The ultimate mes-
sage that Abraham’s vision in heaven seeks to convey is that after Abraham
abolished idolatry, the Temple was intended as the proper place of worship for
Abraham’s descendants, the chosen people of Israel. Yet unfortunately, idolatry
was not eradicated forever; it gradually returned and gained victory over Israel.
Therefore, the Temple, like Terah’s house, had to be destroyed by God, and the
people of Israel placed under foreign domination. But this desolate situation will
not last forever — such is the very traditional (and weak) comfort that the author
of the Apocalypse of Abraham has to offer.

Ascension of Isaiah

The Ascension of Isaiah marks a definite shift from the destiny of the commu-
nity to that of the (righteous) individual — to what happens to the individual after
his death. The work consists of two clearly distinguishable parts (which may
originally have been independent): an account of Isaiah’s martyrdom (chs. 1—5)
as a
and of the prophet’s ascent to heaven (chs. 6-11). The former is regarded
Jewish text; the latter no doubt is of Christian origin and is believed to belong
to the early second century cE.*° It is only the ascent account (Vision of Isaiah)
Abraham,” p. 387).
28 “For four generations” is Pennington’s translation (“Apocalypse of
d by the pagans as
29 Interwoven into this scenario is the appearance of a figure, worshipe
of Abraham’ s descendan ts, who is clearly inspired by Jesus (ch. 29: 1-13). This
well as by some
part has to be regarded as a Christian interpolat ion.
al Old Testament
30 See J.M.T. Barton, “The Ascension of Isaiah,” in Sparks, The Apocryph
York: Oxford Universit y Press, 1984), pp. 780f.
(Oxford: Clarendon Press; New
94 Chapter 3

that concerns us here. Although its Christian origin is beyond dispute, it is likely
that it depends on a Jewish source”! (as we will see, its similarity to the Hekhalot
literature is particularly striking). The original language was Greek, but the full
text is preserved solely in Ethiopic.
The setting of Isaiah’s ascent account is a prophetic session at which Isaiah — in
the presence of a group of prophets, the Princes of Israel, the eunuchs, and the
King’s counselors — prophesies before King Hezekiah. During this session, all
those assembled suddenly “heard a door opened and the voice of the Holy Spirit”
(6:8).°* They immediately recognize this as a divine revelation and respond by
prostrating themselves and worshiping God. The door that opened — only for
Isaiah — and that is explained as a “door into an unknown world” (v. 9) is ap-
parently the door to heaven, or, as we soon learn, to all seven heavens. For the
first time the seer’s response to what is happening to him is described in greater
detail (6:13—16):
And while he [Isaiah] was speaking in the Holy Spirit in the hearing of all, he sud-
denly*? became silent, and his spirit was caught up into heaven, and he no longer saw
the men who were standing in front of him. But his eyes were open although his lips
were silent, and the spirit of his body was taken up from him. And only his breath re-
mained in him, for he was in a vision.

From this it becomes clear that Isaiah remains physically on earth, within the
assembly of the prophets and the other notables, and that it is only his spirit that
is taken up into heaven, not his body. He is obviously in a trancelike state with
his eyes wide open; but instead of perceiving his immediate surroundings he is
caught in the vision “of the world that is hidden from man” (v. 15). Throughout
the duration of the vision he utters not a word, and his body looks “like a corpse”
(v. 17). Only when the vision is terminated does he give an account of it to King
Hezekiah and the group of prophets. The other notables and the people are not
allowed to hear his account, with two important exceptions: Samnas the scribe

3! See Martha Himmelfarb, Tours of Hell: An Apocalyptic Form in Jewish and Christian
Literature (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), pp. 136f., 156, n. 56; eadem, Ascent to Heaven,
pp. 55, 135, n. 30. But see Robert Hall, “Isaiah’s Ascent to See the Beloved: An Ancient Jewish
Source for the Ascension of Isaiah?” JBL 113 (1994), pp. 463-484, who convincingly argues
for the vision of Isaiah’s unity and maintains that in fact, nothing in the text speaks in favor of
a clear-cut Quellenscheidung between “Jewish” and “Christian” sources. He adds a methodo-
logically very apt caveat against using the labels “Jewish,” “Christian,” or “gnostic” with regard
to the vision: “Initial soundings suggest that the Vision of Isaiah is very much at home in the
worlds of Jewish apocalypticism, of early Christianity, and of early gnosticism. ... Perhaps
the
group behind the Vision has not yet had to define itself over against other groups. They
may
have never had to decide whether they are Jewish or Christian” (ibid., p. 470).
*? All quotations from the Ascension of Isaiah follow the translation of R. H. Charles,
revised
by J.M.T. Barton, “The Ascension of Isaiah,” pp. 775-812.
** Italics in Spark’s edition “indicate that the word or words so printed are not actually
found
in the text being translated, but they have been added to improve
P the sense” (The
The A Apocrypha
hal
Old Testament, p. XXII).
 Enoch’s Companions 95

and Joachim son of Asaph, the secretary of state, remain present, “for they were
men who did what is right and were approved by the Spirit” (v. 17). Their func-
tion presumably was to record and testify to his account.
This description of the council of prophets and the circumstances of Isaiah’s
visionary experience — with his bodily presence on earth while his spirit had left
him to visit the seven heavens — is surprisingly similar to the so-called havurah
account in the Hekhalot literature.** There, R. Ishmael assembles all the famous
rabbis, who are arranged according to their rank: an inner circle sits, surrounded
by an outer circle of colleagues who stand, and in the middle of the inner circle
sits R. Nehunya b. Haqanah, who explains matters of the Merkavah, “ascent and
descent,>> how one ascends, and who ascends; how one descends, and who de-
scends” (§ 203). What Nehunya b. Haganah explains is the ascent of the mystic
through the seven heavenly “palaces” to the throne of glory. The means by which
he achieves his vision are not communicated, but from the later description of
the rabbis’ attempt to recall him from the vision of the Merkavah (§§ 225 ff.) it
becomes clear that he remains seated in the midst of the rabbis throughout his
vision. Like Isaiah among his fellow prophets, Nehunya b. Haqanah remains
physically present among his fellow rabbis, and it is apparently only his “spirit”
that is in the heavenly realm and sees its secrets. To bring him back, the rabbis
put a rag on his knees that has been in contact with a minuscule amount of female
impurity (some even question whether there is any tangible impurity at all). This
is sufficient to release him from his vision of the Merkavah without doing him
any harm (a heavier dose of impurity would have killed him immediately).
Successfully released, he then relates to his fellow rabbis a certain diffi-
cult aspect of the heavenly journey (§ 228) that goes beyond the scope of our
present investigation. But in this context it is important to note that his relating
of this detail presupposes the presence of scribes who record the mystic’s ac-
count of his heavenly journey. The scribal character of the early apocalypses
is well known — already in the Book of the Watchers, Enoch receives the hon-
orary title “scribe of righteousness” (1 En. 12:4 and 15:1) — but it is only here
and in the Ascension of Isaiah that we encounter scribes whose official task it is
to record what they hear from the visionary. As is the case in the Ascension of
by
Isaiah (v. 17: “for they were men who did what is right and were approved
the Spirit”), Hekhalot Rabbati, too, sets great store in competent scribes (§ 228)
the
because the angels at the entrance to the sixth palace are determined to kill
unfit scribes (unlike in the Ascension of Isaiah, the scribes seem to accompany
the seer during his heavenly journey).

34 Schafer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 202 ff. (Hekhalot Rabbati); see below,

“descent” for “ascent

29

35 The text follows the characteristic reverse terminology and uses

29 “ee
M4
PP. oe “s

and vice versa; see below, p. 247.

96 Chapter 3

Isaiah does not need to be brought back from his trance by means of some so-
phisticated device; he is suddenly back and relates what he has seen. Accompa-
nied by an angelic guide from the seventh heaven he is taken up through all the
seven heavens in a highly formalized procedure. In each of the first five heavens
he sees a throne in the middle of the heaven with an angel seated on the throne,
and groups of angels to the right and the left of the throne who all sing praises
together. It becomes clear from the very first heaven that the angels on the right
of the throne are always greater than the angels on the left*® and that the angel
seated on the throne is the greatest of all (with a gradual increase of glory in
each heaven).*’ Already in the second heaven Isaiah falls prostrate and attempts
to worship the angel on the throne, but his angelic guide explains to him that
he must worship only the figure he will be seeing in the seventh heaven. In the
third heaven Isaiah notices that the gradual increase of glory in each heaven is
mirrored in his own physical transformation: the higher he gets, the brighter be-
comes his face (7:25).
The sixth and seventh heavens are different not only in their glory and the
sublimity of the angelic praise, but “from the sixth heaven and above it there are
no more angels on the left, nor is there a throne set in the middle” (8:7). More-
over, the angel guiding Isaiah makes it clear that he is not his Lord (as Isaiah
believes) but his companion (8:5). Obviously, Isaiah has come very close to the
angels, although his final transformation will take place in the seventh heaven.
All the angels in the sixth heaven “looked the same and their praises were equal.
And I was allowed to sing praises with them too, and also the angel who was
accompanying me, and our praises were like theirs” (8:16 f.). In joining the unio
liturgica with the angels in the sixth heaven, Isaiah is regarded as one of them.
They all together praise “the Father of all,” “his Beloved, the Christ,” and “the
Holy Spirit” — that is, the Holy Trinity (v. 18). Overwhelmed by what he sees,
Isaiah begs his angelic guide that he might stay in heaven and not be forced to
return to his body, but the angel explains to him that his time has not yet come
and that he must return to his physical existence on earth. It is here for the first
time that we learn that the seer is “troubled”: unlike in the earlier ascent apoca-
lypses, he is not afraid of what he sees but rather troubled by the idea that he
won't be allowed to stay in heaven and enjoy its marvels. Only after his death,
he is told, will he receive the garment, throne, and crown that are stored up for
the righteous in the seventh heaven.

36 Cf. in the Hekhalot literature the guardian angels at the entrances of the seven
palaces,
where the angel at the right side of the gate is always greater than the angel at the
left side:
Schafer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 206 ff., 219ff., 230, 233 (Hekhalot
Rabbati);
below, p. 275.
37 There is, of course, no angel sitting in each of the seven palaces of the
Hekhalot literature,
but cf. the enigmatic passage in Hekhalot Rabbati (Synopse zur Hekhalot-
Literatur, § 206),
where it is said of God that he sits in seven palaces, “a chamber within
a chamber.”
 Enoch’s Companions 97

Finally, about to enter the seventh heaven, Isaiah hears a voice — his guide ex-
plains to him that this is the voice of the angel presiding over the praises in the
sixth heaven — that wants to prevent him from entering because he “lives among
aliens” (9:2) — in other words, because he is human, and because human beings
are not allowed to enter the seventh heaven. This is the well-known motif of the
angelic jealousy of human beings; in the classical rabbinic literature it mani-
fests itself as the angels’ opposition to the gift of the Torah to Israel,** and in the
Hekhalot literature it is aimed, as in the Ascension of Isaiah, against the ascent
of the mystic to the seventh palace. In Hekhalot Zutarti and in Merkavah Rab-
bah, when R. Aqiva approaches the curtain in front of the divine throne in the
seventh palace, he is rejected by a group of “destructive angels” who want to kill
him, but the angels in turn are reproached by the voice of God, who tells them:
“Leave the old man alone for he is worthy to gaze at my Glory.’”*’ Likewise, in
the Ascension of Isaiah the trembling seer hears another voice — his guide ex-
plains to him that this is the voice of Jesus Christ — which says: “The holy Isaiah
is permitted to come up here, for here is his garment” (9:2).
- Yet Isaiah will receive his heavenly garment*? only temporarily, because
he must return to his body. For, as we now learn, the seventh heaven is dis-
tinguished by a sophisticated hierarchy of angels, deceased righteous, and the
Father with his beloved Son (and, less important, the Holy Spirit). In this hier-
archy the deceased righteous are simultaneously like the angels and superior to
them. Stripped of their “garments of flesh” and clothed in the “garments of the
world above” they are like the angels (9:9), yet whereas the angels see God but
cannot actually look at him (9:37), the deceased righteous “gaze intently upon
the Glory” of their Maker (9:38). Isaiah’s place in this heavenly hierarchy is
among the angels of the seventh heaven. His transformation attains its peak; he
becomes “like an angel” (9:30) and joins in with the praise of the angels and the
righteous, but “my*! glory was not transformed so that I looked like them [the
righteous]” (9:33). He is not yet one of the deceased righteous because he will
resume his bodily existence.
Isaiah, in his angelic state, reaches the highest stage a human being can ever
achieve. Like the angels, he sees “One standing, whose glory surpassed that of
all the others, and his glory was great and wonderful” (9:27), as well as “another
glorious One like him’ (9:33) — obviously the Father and his beloved Son. But,
like the angels, he sees God only vaguely: “And the eyes of my spirit were open,

38 See Schafer, Rivalitdt, pp. 111 ff.

39 Schafer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 346 (Hekhalot Zutarti) and § 673 (Merkavah
Rabbah); see also b Hagigah 15b, where this passage is quoted.
40 As the angel had promised him in the sixth heaven (8:14).
41 Bold characters in Sparks’s edition indicate “that the word or words so printed are a
has “his
conjectural emendation” (The Apocryphal Old Testament, p. XXII). The Ethiopic text
glory” (Barton, in ibid., p. 805, n. 39).
98 Chapter 3

and I saw the Great Glory; but I could not then look upon him, nor could the
angel who was with me, nor any of the angels I had seen worshipping my Lord”
(9:37). The privilege of “gazing intently upon the Glory” (9:38) is reserved
for the righteous alone. Here again we encounter a version of the familiar motif
of the rivalry between angels and human beings and the ultimate superiority of
human beings to the angels. In the classical rabbinic literature Israel is superior
to the angels because the Torah is given only to them, not to the angels,” and in
the Hekhalot literature the mystic, who has ascended to the seventh palace, is
not hurt by the destructive force of the divine countenance — quite in contrast to
the angels, who cannot observe God’s beauty without perishing.*
In what follows, Isaiah’s ascent to the seventh heaven with his “vision” of
God is counterbalanced by Christ’s descent to the earth and the Netherworld.
Structurally speaking, the two narratives are in perfect symmetry: whereas Isaiah
during his ascent was progressively transformed into an angel of the highest
rank (namely, of the seventh heaven), Christ during his descent is gradually
transformed into a human being. He first becomes like one of the angels of the
first five heavens (remember the difference between the first five heavens and
the sixth and seventh heaven) so that they recognize him as one of their own
and not as the Lord (ch. 10).4° Then he becomes a human being born from the
Virgin Mary and, after the people of Israel had crucified him, he descends to the
angels of the She’ol. Finally, after three days, he travels upward through all the
heavens again without transforming himself into the respective angels so that
they immediately recognize him as their Lord and praise him. Isaiah’s account
achieves its climax with Christ’s return to the seventh heaven and his enthrone-
ment to the right of the Father:
(11:32) And I saw how he ascended into the seventh heaven and all the righteous and
all the angels praised him; and then I saw him sit down on the right hand of the Great
Glory, whose glory I told you I was not able to look upon. (33) And I saw also the angel
of the Holy Spirit sitting on the left hand. (34) And this angel said to me, Isaiah, son of
Amoz, I set you free; for you have seen what no mortal has ever seen before. (35) Yet
you must return to your garments of the flesh until your days are completed. Then will
you come up here.

The message of this ascent apocalypse is clear: the chosen human being, in this
case Isaiah, can anticipate with his ascent to heaven the destiny that awaits the

* See also 10:2, which confirms that Isaiah could not “look upon” the glory of the “Glori-
ous One.”
8 Schafer, Rivalitat, pp. 111 ff., 228 ff.
“4 See Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 159 ff., 169 (Hekhalot Rabbati); see also §§
183 f.,
189 (Hekhalot Rabbati). On both passages, see Schafer, Hidden and Manifest God,
pp. 17f.,
47-49, and below, pp. 259, 265 f.
4S Interestingly enough, and again reminiscent of the Hekhalot literature, at his
descent from
the third to the first heaven and to the vault of heaven the angels demand a password
from him
to let him through.
 Enoch’s Companions 99

righteous after their death. These righteous, once they have arrived at their place
in the seventh heaven — stripped of their garment of flesh and clothed in the gar-
ment of heaven — are superior even to the angels because they gaze intently on
the Glory of God. The human hero, who is privileged to ascend to the seventh
heaven before his death, must be transformed into an angel of the highest rank in
order to attain this goal. He does not, however, achieve the state of the righteous,
neither in his spiritual transformation nor in the quality of his vision of God, for
this highest state of existence is reserved for the righteous dead. The Ascension
of Isaiah, therefore, is solely concerned with the destiny of the individual. The
righteous individual, it promises, will be granted life after death, a purely spir-
itual existence superior to that of the angels. Its essence is the continuous praise
of God (in this regard there is no difference between the righteous and the an-
gels) and the ability to see God face to face (here the righteous and the angels
differ). Yet the distance between God and the righteous remains, as there is no
indication of any union of the righteous with God.

Apocalypse of Zephaniah

The Apocalypse of Zephaniah is a fragmentary work whose beginning and end

are missing; even the identity of its hero, the biblical prophet Zephaniah, remains
uncertain.“ Zephaniah is mentioned only once, in a Sahidic Coptic manuscript;
some scholars, therefore, regard this text as the only surviving fragment of the
Apocalypse of Zephaniah and the bulk of the work as an independent anony-
mous apocalypse.*” This major part is preserved in a single manuscript written
in the Akhmimic Coptic dialect, but it is generally assumed that this version is
a translation from a Greek original. The apocalypse is definitely Jewish (with
some possible Christian adaptations) and most likely of Egyptian provenance; it
is dated before the end of the first century cE“* or to the second century cE.”
Unlike the Ascension of Isaiah, in which the seer anticipates his postmortem
existence during an ascent to heaven, after which he must return to his body,
the Apocalypse of Zephaniah describes the actual ascent of a dead soul after his

,
46 See O.S, Wintermute, “Apocalypse of Zephaniah,” in OTP, vol. 1, p. 499; Himmelfarb
Ascent to Heaven, pp. 51 f.
47 Ip his translation, K.H. Kuhn distinguishes between the Apocalypse of Zephaniah and
Apoca-
an anonymous apocalypse; Kuhn, “The Apocalypse of Zephaniah and an Anonymous
lypse,” in Sparks, The Apocryphal Old Testament, pp. 919 ff.
48 Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 51 (on the basis of the single heaven scheme).
by Clem-
49 Wintermute, “Apocalypse of Zephaniah,” p. 500 (on the basis of a quotation
may point to a
ent of Alexandria); his speculations about a pro-Edomite tradition in 3:2, which
an early pro-
date before 70 cE, are groundless: if the simple mention of Mount Seir indicates
be regarded as early and pro-Edomit e.
Edomite tradition, many Midrashim must
100 Chapter 3

death; this has been convincingly argued by Martha Himmelfarb°® against the
customary view that locates the apocalypse in the tradition of apocalyptic writ-
ing “that is concerned with demonstrating God’s justice and mercy by permit-
ting a seer to witness scenes of post-mortem judgment and places of blessing
prepared for the righteous.’*! The seer indeed witnesses scenes of postmortem
judgment and places of blessing, but it is above all his own judgment and ulti-
mate justification that stand at the center of the narrative. As such, the Apoca-
lypse of Zephaniah marks a decisive step toward the concern about the destiny
of the individual (despite its apparently traditional ending with God’s final judg-
ment on heaven and earth).
The fragmentary Sahidic text, which seems to belong to the beginning of the
apocalypse, sets the tone by having the guiding angel tell the seer that he will
“triumph over the accuser” and “come up from Hades” (B:4)°? — this is precisely
what the bulk of the apocalypse in the Akhmimic dialect is going to expound.
The journey begins with a view from above the seer’s city, presumably Jerusa-
lem, at the place for the souls of the righteous and the sinners; where precisely
this place is, is not communicated (ch. 2). The second stage of the journey takes
place at Mount Seir, where the seer learns that two different groups of angels
record the deeds of the righteous and sinners in the appropriate books (ch. 3). At
the next (unspecified) place, “Zephaniah” sees ugly angels (“the servants of all
creation”), who bring up the souls of “ungodly men” to the place of their eternal
punishment; the angel confirms to him that they are not permitted to touch him
because he is “pure” (ch. 4). The subsequent stop is within a “beautiful city” with
bronze gates, presumably the heavenly Jerusalem, in which the angel accompa-
nying the seer transforms himself (ch. 5). Withdrawing from this “beautiful city”
(whose bronze gates hurl fire against him), the seer finds himself in Hades and
confronted with two angels, both of whom he mistakes for God and attempts to
worship (ch. 6). The first angel is described as follows:
(6:8) His hair was spread out like the lionesses’. His teeth were outside his mouth like
a bear. His hair was spread out like women’s. His body was like the serpent’s when he
wished to swallow me. (9) And when I saw him, I was afraid of him so that all of my
parts of my body were loosened and I fell upon my face.

Realizing that this apparition is not God, he prays to God to save him — and sees
another angel, whom he again mistakes for God:
(6:11) Then I arose and stood, and I saw a great angel standing before me with his face
shining like the rays of the sun in its glory since his face is like that which is perfected
in its glory. (12) And he was girded as if a golden girdle were upon his breast. (13) His

°° Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, 19),

*! Wintermute, “Apocalypse of Zephaniah,” p. 505.
* All translations as well as the chapter and verse divisions of the apocalypse follow Win-
termute, “Apocalypse of Zephaniah,” pp. 508 ff.
 Enoch’s Companions 101

feet were like bronze which is melted in a fire. (13) And when I saw him, I rejoiced, for
I thought that the Lord Almighty had come to visit me. (14) I fell upon my face, and I
worshiped him. (15) He said to me, “Take heed. Don’t worship me. I am not the Lord
Almighty, but I am the great angel, Eremiel, who is over the abyss and Hades, the one
in which all of the souls are imprisoned from the end of the Flood, which came upon
the earth, until this day.”

The angel explains to him that he is now in Hades and that the first terrifying
angel he encountered there was the accuser, “who accuses men in the presence
of the Lord” (6:17). Eremiel is well-known already from the Book of the Watch-
ers, where he is called Remiel and, as one of the seven archangels, is “set over
those who rise (from the dead)” (20:8). He appears as Jeremiel in 4 Ezra (4:36)
and as Ramael in 2 Baruch, where he is “set over true visions” (55:3; see also
63:6). But his description here goes far beyond anything communicated in the
parallels. His face shining like the sun is an attribute reserved not only for the
highest angels but for God himself. As an angelic attribute we encountered it in
2 Enoch, where the faces of the two angels that come to take Enoch up to heaven
are “like the shining sun” (2 En. 1:5) and where the oil with which he is anointed
is “like the rays of the glittering sun” (22:9). Yet in the Book of the Watchers it
is the wheels of the divine throne in the “inner house” that are “like the shining
sun” (1 En. 14:18), and even the raiment of God himself sitting on his throne is
“brighter than the sun” (14:20). In particular, Eremiel’s feet looking like bronze
melted in fire are reminiscent of the description of God’s body “from his loins
downward” that appears to Ezekiel as fire surrounded by a radiance (Ezek. 1:27).
The angel, indeed, comes very close to God, and it is not surprising that “Zepha-
niah” attempts to worship him (much less surprising than the ugly first angel, the
accuser, he sees in Hades). In fact, Eremiel’s appearance is the closest “Zepha-
niah” gets to God: there is no vision of God in the remaining text of the apoca-
lypse (and it is not very likely that the missing end contained such a vision).
It is also in Hades that “Zephaniah” sees the books in which his bad and good
deeds are recorded. He learns that his good deeds outweigh his sins and that he
therefore has triumphed over the accuser (ch. 7). Set on a boat, he embarks on
the final part of his trip to the place of the righteous souls:
(8:1) ... 3 They helped me and set me on that boat. (2) Thousands of thousands and
myriads of myriads of angels gave praise before me. (3) I, myself, put on an angelic
garment. I saw all of those angels praying. (4) I, myself, prayed together with them, I
knew their language, which they spoke with me.

This is the usual procedure for the hero approaching the final stage of his heav-
enly journey: the garment he dons symbolizes his transformation into an angel,

53 Two pages are missing here in the Coptic text. Wintermute (“Apocalypse of Zephaniah,”
pp. 513f.) is certainly right in assuming that discussed in the missing pages is the content of
the second book that “should have recorded the good deeds of the seer.”
 Chapter 3

since it is only in the angelic state that he can enter the highest heaven. As in the
other ascent apocalypses, he immediately chimes in with the heavenly praise
of the angels and, as the necessary prerequisite, understands their language. In
“Zephaniah’s” case, however, this is not a heavenly journey anticipating the final
destiny of the visionary; rather, it is a journey with no return — the last journey of
the righteous soul to his place in heaven. A trumpet announces his triumph and
his arrival at the place destined for the righteous:
(9:1) Then a great angel came forth having a golden trumpet in his hand, and he blew
it three times over my head, saying, “Be courageous! O one who has triumphed, Pre-
vail! O one who has prevailed. For you have triumphed over the accuser, and you have
escaped from the abyss and Hades. (2) You will now cross over the crossing place. For
your name is written in the Book of Living.”

This scene is reminiscent of the ascent of the successful Merkavah mystic, who
finally reaches the throne of glory in the seventh “palace”: having proved him-
self a worthy adept and having survived all the dangers of his ascent, the angels
support him when he enters the seventh palace and give him strength. And then
a “horn sounds” from above the highest heaven and announces his entry into the
seventh palace before the divine throne.
But there seems to be a distinct hierarchy in the Apocalypse of Zephaniah’s
heaven. Unlike in the Ascension of Isaiah, where Isaiah joins the ranks of the
highest angels (and where the decisive hierarchical difference remains between
the angels and the righteous), here not all righteous souls achieve the rank of the
highest angels. For the text continues, “I wanted to embrace him [the great angel
with the golden trumpet], (but) was unable to embrace the great angel because
his glory is great” (9:3). “Zephaniah’s” soul seems not to be the great angel’s
equal. This becomes even clearer when the angel runs to all the righteous as-
sembled in heaven and awaiting “Zephaniah’s” arrival (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,
Enoch, Elijah, and David) and addresses them “as friend to friend speaking with
one another” (9:5). The great heroes of the past — obviously our deceased soul’s
role models — are apparently the great angel’s equal, something that seems to be
denied the more simple soul of our seer.
The received text concludes with a second blowing of the trumpet that opens
the heaven and once more shows “Zephaniah” the fiery sea in Hades that swal-
lows up all the sinners (ch. 11). At another sounding of the trumpet, blown daily
by the great angel, all the righteous — led by Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob — inter-
cede on behalf of the tormented sinners and pray to God (ch. 11). A final sound-
ing of the golden trumpet will announce the coming wrath of God — the last
judgment (ch. 12). Here the text of the apocalypse breaks off, with four further
pages missing.

** Schafer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 250 (Hekhalot Rabbati).

 Enoch’s Companions 103

Apocalypse of John

The Apocalypse of John or the Book of Revelation, the last ascent apocalypse to
be discussed here, is no doubt of Christian origin: it belongs to the canon of the
New Testament and centers on the “Lamb,” that is, the Son of Man and Messiah
Jesus Christ.°> Its author reveals his identity as “John,”*¢ but it remains uncertain
who precisely this “John” is (although ancient authorities such as Papias*’ and
Justin®® are convinced that our John is none other than the apostle John, the son
of Zebedee).°? This John received his revelation on the island of Patmos in the
Aegean Sea, about fifty-five miles southwest of Ephesus, from where he writes
seven letters to seven Christian communities in Asia Minor.®' The emerging
Christian Church in the Roman province of Asia clearly supplies the apocalypse
with its local color. It seems likely that the apocalypse was written toward the
end of the reign of the emperor Domitian (81-96 cE).© But despite its unmis-
takable Christian origin, the book draws on the rich treasure trove of traditional
Jewish material. This fact, which holds particularly true for the vision in chapters
4 and 5, justifies the inclusion of the apocalypse in this chapter.
After an introductory vision in which John sees “one like the Son of Man”
(homoion hyion anthrépou),® easily recognizable as Jesus, who instructs him
to write the seven letters to the seven “churches,” the seer receives a second vi-
sion (chs. 4 and 5):

55 Latterly, John W. Marshall wants to read the Apocalypse of John as a thoroughly Jewish
text; see his Parables of War: Reading John’s Jewish Apocalypse (Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Lau-
rier University Press, 2001). Laudable as the attempt may be to break up once more the all too
static categories of “Judaism” and “Christianity,” I am not convinced that John’s apocalypse
can be adequately described as a Merkavah text and that it therefore belongs to the realm of
Judaism (ibid., p. 207).
56 Rev. 1:1, 4, 9; 22:8.
57 Trenaeus, Ady. haer. V, 33:4 (Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, eds., The Ante-
Nicene Fathers: Translations of the Writings of the Fathers down to A. D. 325, vol. 1: The Ap-
ostolic Fathers — Justin Martyr — Irenaeus, rev. A. Cleveland Coxe [New York: Charles Scrib-
ner’s Sons, 1925], p. 563).
58 Dialogue with Trypho 81:4 (Robertson and Donaldson, The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1,
p. 240).
59 Mt. 10:2; Mk. 3:17; Lk. 6:14.
© Rey. 1:9.
61 Reyv., chs. 2 and 3.
® As already suggested by Irenaeus, Adv. haer. V, 30:3, end (Roberts and Donaldson, The
Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1, p. 560). John Marshall posits that Revelation reflects the turmoil
of the “long year” 69 cE and should be dated around 70 CE; see his Parables of War, pp. 88 ff.,
Reed, Heavenly
and idem, “Who’s on the Throne? Revelation in the Long Year,” in Boustan and
Realms and Earthly Realities, pp. 123-141.
6 Rey. 1:13. The figure combines attributes of the “Son of Man” and the “Ancient of
in Ezek-
Days” in Daniel (Dan. 7:9) and of the “figure with the appearance of a human being”
iel (1:26f.).
64 The translation follows the RSV and the NRSV (with some adaptations).
104 Chapter 3

(4:1) After this I looked, and behold, in heaven a door stood open! And that first voice,
which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said: “Come up here (anaba héde),
and I will show you what must take place after this.” (2) At once I was in the spirit (en
pneumati), and behold, a throne was set in heaven, with one seated on the throne! (3)
And the one seated there looks like jasper and carnelian (homoios horasei lithd iaspidi
kai sardid), and around the throne is a rainbow that looks like an emerald (homoios
horasei smaragdind). (4) Around the throne are twenty-four thrones, and seated on
the thrones are twenty-four elders (presbyterous), dressed in white robes, with golden
crowns on their heads. (5) Coming from the throne are flashes of lightning (astrapai),
and voices (phdnai) and peals of thunder (brontai), and in front of the throne burn seven
torches of fire, which are the seven spirits of God; (6) and in front of the throne there is
something like a sea of glass (hds thalassa hyaliné), like crystal (homoia krystallo).

Like most of its predecessors, this vision is the seer’s or prophet’s inaugural
vision, heavily indebted to Ezekiel. Unlike Ezekiel, however, but like most
of his successors, the seer does not remain on earth (peering through the open
heavens); rather, he is explicitly asked to “come up,” that is, to ascend to
heaven. The invitation to ascend comes from a “voice” that the seer immediately
identifies as belonging to the Son of Man (= Jesus), who appeared to him in the
first vision.®° Quite conspicuously, there is no angel who accompanies the seer
on his journey to the highest heaven and who explains to him what he sees (the
familiar angelus interpres),°’ nor are there marvels to be admired in the heavens
(in fact, there is no mention of various heavens at all, and there is not much of
a journey either): the seer is immediately lifted up to (the highest?) heaven, re-
plete with its throne chamber and someone sitting on the throne. The ascent is
reduced to the enigmatic phrase “I was in the spirit,”°® which refers either to a
peculiar (ecstatic) state of mind (alluding to Ezek. 2:2: “a spirit [ruah] entered
into me’’) or to the wind or spirit (rwah) that carries Ezekiel away after his vision
(Ezek. 3:14) and lifts him up and brings him to Jerusalem (Ezek. 8:3, 11:1).
The voice of the Son of Man/Jesus Christ promises the seer that he will reveal
the future to him and thereby anticipates the Lamb’s breaking of the mysterious
scroll’s seals after the vision (ch. 6). In most of the classical ascent apocalypses,
the revelation of the future is reserved for God himself; hence, in attributing
such an important revelation to the Son of Man/Jesus Christ, the author of our
apocalypse hints (at the very beginning of the vision, even before the seer gets
a chance to gaze on the enthroned figure) at the very peculiar state of the Son of
Man/Jesus Christ — a state that goes far beyond what we might expect from an
angelus interpres or any “ordinary” angelic being. As we will soon come to un-
derstand, the Son of Man/ Jesus Christ is much more than just an angel.

6° See Ezek. 1:1; 2 Bar. 22:1; Acts 7:56; 10:11; see above, chapter 1, p. 36.
6 Rey. 1:10, 12 ff.
67 But see Rev. 19:9f.
68 See on this phrase the commentary by R. H. Charles, A Critical and Exegetical Commen-
tary on the Revelation of John, vol. 1 (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1920, repr. 1975), pp. 109 ff.
 Enoch’s Companions 105

But first comes the vision of the figure on the throne — quite a casual vision,
or, to be more precise, not much of a vision at all. To be sure, this figure is God
in all his glory, but our author makes no attempt to describe it in any detail: no
human shape as in Ezekiel, and not even a description of his clothes or the hair
on his head as in Daniel and the apocalypses following Daniel’s lead; not by
coincidence, the author has heaped all these attributes, which in Dan. 7 and Ezek.
1 are reserved for God, on his Son of Man,” indicating that the dividing lines
between God and the Son of Man are indeed blurred. As to God’s appearance,
he confines himself to two precious stones (jasper and carnelian), to which he
adds the emerald-like rainbow that surrounds the throne.” It is not entirely clear
which precious stones are concealed behind these stones — the names of gems
are notoriously difficult to identify’? — but the message is obvious: God’s fea-
tures cannot be described. What the seer does perceive is a brilliant radiance,
such as is emitted by the most beautiful and precious gems. With this message
the author follows the tradition inaugurated by Ezekiel (Ezek. 1:26—28: the
throne appears like sapphire, and the figure on the throne resembles hashmal and
fire, surrounded by a radiance comparable to that of a rainbow) and continued
by Ezekiel’s successors: God’s raiment is “white as snow” in Daniel (7:9) and
“brighter than the sun, whiter than any snow” in 1 Enoch (14:20),”° whereas his
face in 2 Enoch is “like iron made burning hot in a fire and brought out, and it
emits sparks and is incandescent” (22:1).”4
Yet our author may have had more in mind than simply wanting to emphasize
that God shines like precious stones. Some commentators have pointed to the
fact that the three stones mentioned in our vision also appear among the stones

69 Also toward the end of his vision, John sees just “a great white throne and the one who
sat on it” (Rev. 20:11), nothing more specific. Only when the eschaton has come — with the new
Jerusalem descending from heaven, the water of life flowing from the throne of God and of the
Lamb, and the tree of life — then “his servants will worship him” and “they will see his face”
(Rev. 22:3 f.): this is clearly the eschatological scenario of the resurrected righteous, who are
finally found worthy of seeing God face to face.
70 Rey. 1:13-16: long robe, white hair, feet like burnished bronze, voice like the sound of
many waters.
71 Charles, Commentary, p. 113: “the writer avoids anthropomorphic details. No form is vis-
ible”; ibid., p. 115: “Thus anthropomorphic details are avoided still more than in Ezekiel.”
72 See the commentaries, especially Isbon T. Beckwith, The Apocalypse of John: Studies in
1919 [repr.
Introduction with a Critical and Exegetical Commentary (New York: Macmillan,
f.
1967, Baker Book House, Grand Rapids, MI), p. 497; Charles, Commentary, pp. 114
“because
73 Where the author explicitly adds that no angel and no flesh could see his face
of its splendor and glory” (14:21).
looks like
74 As we have seen above, in the Apocalypse of Abraham it is the angel Iaoel who
(11:2), whereas God is not seen but just heard; and in the Apocalypse
sapphire and chrysolite
of the sun” and
of Zephaniah it is said of the angel Eremiel that his face shines “like the rays
“like bronze which is melted in a fire” (6:11, 13). The two God-like angels
that his feet were
are described in terms that are usually reserved for God.
106 Chapter 3

on the breastplate of the high priest as described in Ex. 28: 17-21.” The breast-
plate consists of four rows of stones with three stones in each row, making for a
total of twelve stones. The first and the last of these twelve stones (the first stone
of the first row and the last stone of the fourth row) are the stones that in Hebrew
are called odem (generally translated as “carnelian’”) and yashfeh (generally
translated as “jasper”).”° Hence, the stones symbolizing the brilliant splendor of
God assume a prominent place on the high priest’s breastplate.’’ This can hardly
be a coincidence. Since the twelve stones on the breastplate correspond to the
“names of the sons of Israel,” that is, to the twelve tribes (Ex. 28:21), the stones
symbolizing God’s splendor refer to — or rather literally reflect — the twelve tribes
of Israel.78 The message, then, would be that God’s glory is not self-sufficient,
just brilliant and beautiful to behold; quite to the contrary, it has a function, for
it correlates with his people — Israel.”
This interpretation is corroborated by what follows (v. 4): the twenty-four
elders sitting on thrones arranged in a circle around God’s throne. Scholars are
divided as to the identity of these twenty-four elders,®° but the most likely ex-
planation is that they refer to the representatives of the people of Israel — two
leaders of each of the twelve tribes, or twelve leaders of the tribes and twelve
kings*! — or even the leaders of the twelve tribes (representing the “old Israel”)
and the twelve apostles (representing the “new Israel’’).8* Whatever the precise

™ See, e.g., J. Massyngberde Ford, Revelation: Introduction, Translation, and Commentary,

The Anchor Bible (New York: Doubleday, 1975), p. 71.
76 Tn the Septuagint, of the three stones mentioned in Revelation sardion (“carnelian”) is in-
deed the first stone of the first row, but iaspis is the third stone of the second row on the breast-
plate (and smaragdos the third stone of the first row).
7 The “emerald” of the rainbow is bareget in Hebrew, the third stone of the first row.
78 The jasper and the sea of glass looking like crystal return in chapter 21: the new Jerusa-
lem, coming down from heaven as the “bride, the wife of the Lamb” (21:9), has “a radiance
like a very rare jewel, like jasper, clear as crystal” (21:11). Moreover, this Jerusalem has twelve
gates on which are inscribed the names of the twelve tribes (21:12).
™ Tnterestingly enough, the precious stones on the high priest’s breastplate reappear in
Ezek. 28:13, where it is said of a mysterious mythic figure (the primordial “man”?) that it was
covered with three rows of precious stones (three stones each row). The stones are identical with
the first, fourth, and second row in Ex. 28 (the third row is left out), with the third stone of the
first and second rows switched. In Ezekiel, carnelian and jasper are the first stone of the first row
and the third stone of the second row respectively, whereas the emerald appears as the third stone
of the third row, that is, the last stone. If the author of Revelation wants to refer to Ezekiel rather
than to Exodus, his stones may well correlate with the Son of Man rather than with the people of
Israel. Or with both, with the Son of Man as the “mediator” between God and his people?
ae Charles, Commentary, pp. 128 ff., and the useful summary in Ford, Revelation,
pp. 72f.
81 According to Ford (Revelation, p. 80), Jesus Sirach, in his praise of the ancestors (chs.
44-49), counts twenty-four “fathers” of Israel, but one needs quite some imagination to arrive
at precisely the number twenty-four.
® The latter suggested by Ignaz Rohr, Der Hebrderbrief und die Geheime Offenbarung des
Heiligen Johannes, 4th ed. (Bonn: Peter Hanstein, 1932), p. 91; see also the note on y. 4 in the
NRSV. This interpretation is corroborated by the fact that the heavenly Jerusalem, in addition
 Enoch’s Companions 107

meaning of the stones and the elders might be, there can be hardly any doubt
that our seer observes, at the very beginning of his vision, a close relationship
between God and the heavenly representatives of his people on earth, a relation-
ship furthermore that will soon find its expression in liturgical activity. And as
we will see, this relationship with its liturgical interaction becomes one of the
major characteristics of Merkavah mysticism.*
Then the description returns to the divine throne, with imagery again heavily
influenced by Ezekiel (1:13) and the theophany on Mount Sinai (Ex. 19:16 ff.;
Deut. 4:11 f.). Particularly noteworthy is the “sea of glass” in front of the throne
that looks like crystal (v. 6). This strange image may well have been derived
from Ezekiel’s “expanse (raqia‘) that looked like dreadful ice (ha-gerah ha-
nora),” with gerah translated as “crystal” in the Septuagint (Ezek. 1:22), and
from Enoch’s first house with its floor of snow (1 En. 14:10).84 One of the most
mysterious features of the Hekhalot literature is the pavement in the sixth heaven
that consists of marble stones whose splendor the unworthy mystic mistakes for
water.®> We certainly cannot rule out the possibility that the Hekhalot literature
continues precisely this tradition of the frozen ice/crystal as inaugurated by
Ezekiel and developed further by apocalypses, such as the Book of the Watchers
in 1 Enoch and the Book of Revelation.
The heavenly throne room is filled not only with the twenty-four elders; an-
other prominent place is taken by those creatures we would expect, following
the example of Ezekiel, to be mentioned first: the four hayyor that in Ezekiel
carry the expanse on which stands the divine throne. Here they do not carry the
throne; they just stand on either side of the throne, but presumably closer to the
throne than the twenty-four elders:
And around the throne, on each side of the throne,® are four living creatures (fessara
zoa), full of eyes in front and behind: (7) the first living creature like a lion, the second
living creature like an ox, the third living creature with a face like a man (anthropos),
and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle. (8) And the four living creatures, each
of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and inside. Day and night without
ceasing they sing:

“Holy, holy, holy,

The Lord God the Almighty,
Who was and is and is to come.”

apostles of the
to the names of the twelve tribes on the city gate, has the names of the “twelve
on its twelve foundation s (21:14). According to Lk. 22:30, Jesus promises his
Lamb” inscribed
disciples that they will sit on thrones and judge the twelve tribes of Israel.
83 See below, pp. 263, 274, 279, 280f., 328f.
in the second house
84 The second house has a floor of fire, but the divine throne located
suggests that the
looks like “crystals of ice” (1 En. 14:18). Charles, Commentary, pp. 117f.,
“sea of glass” just refers to the waters above the firmament of Gen. 1:7.
85 See below, chapter 8, pp. 298 f.
86 On the strange en mes6 ... kai kykld, see Ford, Revelation, p. 74.
108 Chapter 3

(9) And whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to the one who
is seated on the throne, who lives forever and ever, (10) the twenty-four elders fall down
before the one who is seated on the throne and worship the one who lives forever and
ever; they cast their crowns before the throne, singing:
“You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they existed and were created.”

The creatures’ features are taken from Ezekiel: four in number (Ezek. 1:5), with
four different faces (Ezek. 1:6, 10: although in Ezekiel each one of the creatures
has four faces, whereas here each creature represents just one different being)
and full of eyes (Ezek. 1:18: the rims of the wheels accompanying the creatures).
Only the six wings of the creatures are obviously influenced by Isaiah and not
by Ezekiel: the four creatures in Ezekiel each have four wings, whereas Isaiah’s
seraphim are furnished with six wings (Isa. 6:2). This harmonizes well with the
song of the creatures as inspired by the Qedushah of Isaiah (Isa. 6:3), supple-
mented by a formula that emphasizes God’s eternity, and also reminiscent of
Isaiah (Isa. 41:4, 44:6, 48:12).8’ The heavenly liturgy, initiated by the four crea-
tures, clearly imitates an antiphonal chant, with the twenty-four elders respond-
ing and praising God as the creator of all things.
This is the first part of the vision, culminating in the praise of God uttered
by the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders. The second part (ch. 5),
although equally dependent on Ezekiel and, above all, on Daniel, ventures into
new territory. It begins with our visionary seeing God holding a scroll in his
right hand, “written on the inside and on the back” (5:1), and an angel (Gabriel?)
asking, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” (5:2). When it
turns out that no one is able to open the scroll, John weeps bitterly; but one of
the elders comforts him: “Do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the
Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals”
(5:5). The scroll, of course, refers to Ezekiel, where the prophet, after his vision,
sees God’s hand stretched out to him, holding a scroll that is spread out before
the visionary and has “writing on the front and on the back” (Ezek. 2:9 f.). But
quite in contrast to our apocalypse, Ezekiel sees what is written on the scroll
(Ezek. 2:10: “and written on it were words of lamentation and mourning and
woe’’) and is even asked to eat it (Ezek. 3:1) in order to remember its contents
and convey its message to the people of Israel. So, in fact, the Apocalypse of
John turns Ezekiel (and the later ascent apocalypses) upside down: the prophet-
seer loses his importance and recedes into the background. Not only is he not
transformed into an angel, he even forfeits his mission. His place between God
and the people of Israel is taken by another mediator, the Lion of Judah and Root

87 See also Rev. 1:8, 21:6, 22:13.

 Enoch’s Companions 109

of David, the Messiah. The title “Lion of Judah” is taken from Gen. 49:9 (“Judah
is a lion’s whelp”), a verse that, with its continuation 49:10 (“the scepter shall
not depart from Judah”), has acquired a messianic connotation. This connota-
tion is made even more explicit in the epithet “Root of David,” which refers to
Isa. 11:1, 10, the classical designation of the Messiah from the house of David.
Since this Messiah is introduced as someone who “has conquered” (enikésen),
it is made immediately clear that he has already accomplished his task as the
savior of his people: because he has done precisely what was expected of him,
he is able to open the scroll.
Then the Messiah appears, in the form of a Lamb (arnion), “standing as if
it had been slaughtered (ds esphagmenon)” (5:6), that is, displaying marks of
being slaughtered. This can only mean that the Lamb, although it was slaugh-
tered and hence had died, presents itself alive — an obvious reference to Jesus’s
death and resurrection: the Lamb is Jesus, after his death, Passion, and resur-
rection, or, to put it differently, it is the Messiah after he has accomplished the
task of redemption.** This enables him to take the sealed scroll from God’s hand
(5:7). But instead of opening it immediately (this happens only in the next chap-
ter), the Lamb first receives the praise and worship of the four living creatures
and the twenty-four elders. They fall down before the Lamb, holding harps and
bowls of incense (the classical objects of worship), and “sing a new song” (ddén
kainén):
(5:9) “You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals,
for you were slaughtered and by your blood you ransomed for God
(men) from every tribe and language and people and nation;
(10) you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,
and they will reign on earth.”

After the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders had first praised God
in their antiphonal chant, they now combine efforts to praise the Lamb with “a
new song.” In opening their songs with the same words (“you are worthy” — to
receive glory and honor and to open the scroll), they hint at a very close relation-
ship between God and the Lamb. And in labeling their song as “new,” the author
makes clear that a new era was inaugurated with the appearance of the Lamb,
an era that goes beyond “solely” praising God on his throne. Just as the Son of
Man receives from God dominion and everlasting kingship (Dan. 7:14) — and,
therefore, kingship and dominion being given to the people of Israel on earth
(Dan. 7:27) — so too does the Lamb (the new Son of Man), through his sacrifice,
confer kingdom and priesthood on all the peoples on earth.®?

88 Taking up elements of the Suffering Servant in Isa. 53:4-7, the Passover Lamb (Ex. 12),
and John 1:29, 36. '
kingdom
89 The priesthood seems to be inspired by Ex. 19:6: “you shall be for me a priestly
and a holy nation.”
110 Chapter 3

ments. The
This new era becomes even more apparent with the next develop
another song, uttered
song of the living creatures and the elders is followed by
by “myriads of angels”:
(5:12) “Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might
and honor and glory and blessing!”
the
Again praised as “worthy,” the slaughtered Lamb now receives not only
same epithets as God in 4:11 (glory, honor, and power), it gets four more (wealth,
wisdom, might, and blessing). The angels’ praise of the Lamb surpasses, in a
certain sense, the elders’ praise of God (although, to be sure, only God is exalted
as creator). Hence, it comes as little surprise that, after two songs addressed to
God and two songs addressed to the Lamb, the vision concludes with a final song
addressed to both God and the Lamb:
(5:13) Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in
the sea, and all that is in them, singing:

“To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb,

be blessing and honor and glory and might
forever and ever!”

(14) And the four living creatures said: “Amen!” And the elders fell down and wor-
shiped.

The whole universe completes the heavenly liturgy, conjoining God and the
Lamb as addressees of their song and objects of their worship.” No doubt,
the Son of Man/Lamb has been elevated to a position that equals God. He is
more than just a prophet or a seer; he assumes the position of a second power
in heaven.
With this final step, the author of the Book of Revelation forsakes the realm of
what has been offered to him by the rich tradition starting with Ezekiel and Dan-
iel and climaxing with the ascent apocalypses. Or, better put, he has employed
the treasure trove of this tradition to his own purpose, weaving a new fabric
that is admirable and beautiful in its texture, while at the same time extending
the confines of the received material. For the first time ever within the genre of
the apocalyptic literature, he promulgates a dual divinity, or, as modern schol-
ars would have it, a binitarian theology.?! With this conclusion, I do not wish to
make a definite statement on the issue of whether or not he places himself out-
side the received Jewish tradition, as I believe that such a question is irrelevant
here. Suffice it to say that the author of this apocalypse has boldly developed, out
of the received tradition, something that, if not inherent in this tradition, could
certainly not have been formulated without it.
°° See also Charles, Commentary, p. 151.
*! For the term see below, chapter 8, p. 323.
 Enoch’s Companions tt

To sum up, all four apocalypses reviewed in this chapter are strikingly reticent
about the seer’s vision of God. In the Apocalypses of Abraham and of Zepha-
niah, God remains unseen (although God’s voice is heard in the Apocalypse of
Abraham); in the Ascension of Isaiah the visionary is permitted only a brief and
inchoate glimpse of God (quite in contrast to the deceased righteous, who gaze
intently upon God); and in the Apocalypse of John the vision is reduced to the
brilliant brightness emitted by precious stones. Instead, both the Apocalypse of
Abraham and the Apocalypse of Zephaniah emphasize the God-like stature of
the highest angels (Iaoel and Eremiel), whereas the Apocalypse of John goes a
decisive step further and elevates the heavenly Son of Man/Messiah to a divine
figure. The Ascension of Isaiah, on the other hand, decreases the power of the
angels by subordinating them to the deceased righteous: the righteous after their
death are superior to the angels.
As to the physical condition of the visionary, according to both the Ascension
of Isaiah and the Apocalypse of Zephaniah the visionary and the dead soul un-
dergo a progressive transformation into an angel because it is only in an angelic
state that the visionary and the dead soul can approach the highest heaven or God
(against this traditional background it is all the more conspicuous that the de-
ceased righteous in the Ascension of Isaiah achieve a state that is higher than that
of the angels). Hence, although the traditional apocalyptic arsenal — with its final
judgment and the ultimate salvation of the people of Israel — is kept (to a vary-
ing degree), the Ascension of Isaiah and the Apocalypse of Zephaniah in par-
ticular mark a decisive shift toward concern about the destiny of the individual.
Moreover, it is definitely the individual soul that is at stake; nothing indicates
that the deceased righteous remain in their body (on the contrary, Isaiah laments
the fact that he must return to his body before he can set out on his final journey
to heaven). Finally, in the Ascension of Isaiah we get a rare insight into the
procedure by which the heavenly ascent is attained: the visionary is in a trance-
like mental state that allows his spirit to undertake the journey while his body
remains on earth. I have suggested that this procedure comes remarkably close
to R. Nehunya b. Haganah’s vision of the Merkavah in Hekhalot Rabbati.
Despite its close proximity to the other ascent apocalypses, the Apocalypse
of John has retained none of these features. The figure of the prophet-seer re-
cedes completely into the background. His task is assumed by the Lamb, Jesus
Christ, who is the only one able to open the seals of the book and usher in the
eschaton, and who will ultimately take his seat, together with God, on a throne
in the new Jerusalem. Here a crucial step has been taken toward a new, binitar-
ian theology.

92 The dead sinners in the Apocalypse of Zephaniah, however, remain in their body
(10:12 f.).
 Chapter 4

Qumran
Communion with the Angels

After his decisive victory over the Seleucid army, and supported by the emerging
superpower of Rome, in 153 BcE the Maccabee Jonathan, son of Judas, assumed
the office of high priest in Jerusalem. This dramatic step, confirmed thirteen
years later under his brother and successor Simon by the Jerusalem Great Assem-
bly, was an important turning point in the history of the Maccabean movement.
Having set out not only to battle the oppression of the foreign rulers but also to
fight against their Jewish accomplices — chief among them the priestly nobil-
ity — and in particular against what they called the usurpation of the high priest-
hood by candidates not belonging to the appropriate lineage of the Zadokite fam-
ily, the Maccabees had achieved their goal of depriving the Seleucids and the
illegal high priests dependent on them of power. Yet this achievement went far
beyond the original objectives of the movement. Emerging from the lower ranks
of the priesthood, the Maccabean family hardly had any more entitlement to the
office of high priest than the “usurpers” that they had so bitterly opposed.
It was precisely at this turning point that the Maccabees began experiencing
opposition to their rule, particularly to their presumptuous step of laying claim
to the office of high priest. The fight they had undertaken against the “usur-
pers” was turned against themselves, for they could easily be accused of doing
the same: usurping an office to which they were no more entitled than their il-
legitimate predecessors. Most scholars regard this as the birth of the movement
of the “pious,” about to enter history as the Qumran sect. This movement was
founded by a leader whose name is unknown but who is mentioned in the Qum-
ran sources as the “Teacher of Righteousness.” Since his opponent is called the
“Wicked Priest,” it is generally assumed that he is to be identified with the in-
cumbent Maccabean high priest, most likely Jonathan. The Pesher Habakkuk,
the Qumran exposition of the biblical book Habakkuk, explains the verse “Be-
cause of the blood of the city and the violence done to the land” (cf. Hab. 2:17)
as: ““‘the city’ is Jerusalem in which the Wicked Priest committed abominable
deeds and defiled the Temple of God.”! The defilement of the Jerusalem Tem-

: 1QpHab XII:7f. All translations from the Qumran texts follow, with some variations,
Florentino Garcia Martinez and Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar, eds., The Dead Sea Scrolls: Study Edi-
 Qumran 113

ple by the Wicked Priest and his supporters was the immediate reason why the
Teacher of Righteousness and his group left Jerusalem, withdrew into the desert,
and founded the community of the true and eternal covenant at Qumran.
The Qumran community was in every respect the counterimage to the de-
spised Jerusalem community led by the high priest. In contrast to the official
cultic calendar in Jerusalem, a lunar calendar, the Teacher of Righteousness in-
troduced a solar calendar of 364 days.* The members of the community regarded
themselves as living in the decisive last period before the end of history. They
alone were the chosen ones, the holy remnant of Israel that could expect to be
saved at the time of judgment; all the others, in particular their fellow Jews in
Jerusalem, were wicked and ungodly, destined for damnation. In an elated apo-
calyptic mood they called themselves the “Sons of Light” and their opponents
the “Sons of Darkness.” The Sons of Light, they predicted, would fight a final
battle against the Sons of Darkness, from which the Sons of Light would emerge
triumphant to live in eternal bliss on a renewed and transformed earth. Two Mes-
siahs, a Davidic “Messiah from Israel” and a priestly “Messiah from Aaron,”
would lead the community into the decisive battle.

A Community of Priests

The most conspicuous characteristic of the Qumran community was its priestly
orientation. Not only was the Messiah from Aaron superior to the Messiah from
Israel, the whole structure of the community was shaped according to a pro-

tion, 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill, 1997-1998); I also consulted the translation by Geza Vermes, The
Dead Sea Scrolls in English, 3rd ed. (Sheffield, UK: JSOT Press, 1987).
2 Itis by no means clear, however, whether the solar calendar was actually observed at Qum-
ran or whether it was an ideal calendar. As Philip Alexander reminds me (private communica-
tion), it would have taken only thirty years for the solar calendar to be one month out of sync
with the movement of the sun, and for the observance of the agricultural festivals to be in trou-
ble. Another theory maintains that the solar calendar was, in fact, the original calendar of the
Temple in Jerusalem that was replaced by the lunar calendar by the Hasmonean high priests; see
VT
Annie Jaubert, “Le calendrier des Jubilés et de la secte de Qumran: Ses origines bibliques,”
Calendar of Qumran and the Passion Narrative in John,”
3 (1953), pp. 250-264; eadem, “The
in Raymond E. Brown and James H. Charlesworth, eds., John and Qumran (London: Geoffrey
of the
Chapman, 1972), pp. 62-76; James C. VanderKam, “The Origin, Character and History
On
364 Day Calendar: A Reassessment of Jaubert’s Hypotheses,” CBO 41 (1979), pp. 390-411.
Elior’s far-reaching conclusions based on this theory, see her Three Temples, pp. 84 ff.,
Rachel
Aleph
and the critique by Sacha Stern (“Rachel Elior on Ancient Jewish Calendars: A Critique,”
Aleph 5
5 [2005], pp. 287-292; Elior’s response: “Ancient Jewish Calendars: A Response,”
pp. 25 ff.
[2005], pp. 293-302) and Himmelfarb, “Merkavah Mysticism since Scholem,”
y is vast; see the
3 The literature about the Messianic expectation of the Qumran communit
of the Dead Sea
useful overview in John J. Collins, The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs
York: Doubleday , 1995), in particular chapter 4,
Serolls and Other Ancient Literature (New
“The Messiahs of Aaron and Israel,” pp. 74 ff.
114 Chapter 4

found priestly ideal, clearly intended as a substitute for the despised priesthood
of the Jerusalem Temple. The members of the community could no longer offer
any sacrifices but instead propagated prayer and worship within the community
as (temporary) compensation for the sacrificial rites in the Temple (not unlike
some of the prophets):*
(IX, 3) When these exist in Israel in accordance with all these rules in order to estab-
lish the spirit of holiness according to eternal truth, (4) in order to atone for the guilt
of iniquity and for the unfaithfulness of sin, that they may obtain loving kindness for
the land, without the flesh of burnt offerings and without the fats of sacrifice. And the
heave offering (5) of the lips in compliance with the decree will be like the pleasant
fragrance of righteousness, and perfection of behavior will be acceptable like a free-
will offering.

Like the priests in the Temple, they practiced daily immersion as the appropriate
purification from ritual impurity. Accordingly, it was the priests who presided
over the daily meals of the community, which, like the offerings in the Tem-
ple, were prepared in cultic purity. Josephus gives a graphic account of these
proceedings:>
They [the ordinary members of the community] are then dismissed by their superiors to
the various crafts in which they are severally proficient and are strenuously employed
until the fifth hour, when they again assemble in one place and, after girding their loins
with linen cloths, bathe their bodies in cold water. After this purification, they assem-
ble in a private apartment which none of the uninitiated is permitted to enter; pure now
themselves, they repair to the refectory, as to some sacred shrine. When they have taken
their seats in silence, the baker serves out the loaves to them in order, and the cook sets
before each one plate with a single course. Before meat the priest says a grace, and
none may partake until after the prayer. When breakfast is ended, he pronounces a fur-
ther grace; thus at the beginning and at the close they do homage to God as the bounti-
ful giver of life. Then laying aside their raiment, as holy vestments, they again betake
themselves to their labours until the evening. On their return they sup in like manner,
and any guests who may have arrived sit down with them.

It appears that at least some members of the Qumran community practiced celi-
bacy, whereas others were married; this is what scholars conclude from the con-
flicting tendencies presented by the Community Rule (1QS), on the one hand,
which — presumably intended for the leaders of the community — presupposes
celibacy, and the Damascus Rule (CD), on the other, which — probably address-
ing a wider audience of members — takes marriage for granted.® If this view is
correct, the members practicing celibacy did so not because of any ascetic ideal

4 JOS 13-5:
> Bellum, 2:129-132; see also 1QS VI, 4-6.
° The former being the more radical group that developed out of the latter. But see Eyal
Regev, Sectarianism in Qumran: A Cross-Cultural Perspective (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter,
2007), pp. 321 ff.
 Qumran 115

but most likely because they were following again the example of the Temple
priests, who were forbidden sexual intercourse during the time of their service
in the Temple unless they had taken the proper bath of immersion before sun-
set so as to be pure for the next day’s sacrifices. The same may be true for the
ideal of poverty and the shared property practiced by the members of the sect
and imposed on all its new initiates (1QS VI, 19, 22): it is the priestly paragon
of law (torah), justice (mishpat), and purity (tohorah) that governs the rules for
admission of the adept into the community (1QS VI, 22) — which culminate in
the adept handing over his property to the full control of the Bursar of the Con-
gregation — rather than some romantic notion of an ascetic life (inspired, as some
scholars would have it, by Christian monasticism).
Thus, it comes as little surprise that the Qumran community claims the con-
cept of the Temple for itself — or, more precisely, that it transfers the concept of
the Temple from the physical building in Jerusalem with its priests and its offer-
ings to the Qumran community with its priestly leaders as the spiritual and true
Temple. The community as such, with its worship and prayers, is the “House of
Holiness” and the “Holy of Holies”:’
(VIII, 4) When these things exist in Israel, (5) the Council of the Community shall be
founded on truth, to be an everlasting plantation, a House of Holiness (bet godesh) for
Israel and the foundation of the Holy of Holies (sod godesh qodashim)® (6) for Aaron,
true witnesses for the judgment and chosen by the will (of God) to atone for the land
and to render (7) the wicked their retribution. This [the community] is the tested ram-
part, the precious corner-stone, (8) whose foundations shall neither shake nor tremble
from their place (cf. Isa. 28:16). (It will be) a dwelling of the Holy of Holies (ma ‘on
godesh qodashim)? (9) for Aaron with eternal knowledge of the covenant of justice and
in order to offer a pleasant fragrance; and it will be a house of perfection and truth (ber
tamim we-emet) in Israel (10) that they may establish a covenant in compliance with
the everlasting decrees. And these will be accepted in order to atone for the land and to
determine the judgment of wickedness, and there will be no (more) iniquity.

Here the Qumran community with its hierarchically organized structure repre-
sents the true Temple, consisting of godesh (obviously the hekhal —“‘Sanctuary,”
in the biblical terminology) and godesh (ha-) qodashim (the Holy of Holies).
Whereas the former is accessible to all of Israel —- meaning, of course, the or-
dinary members of the community — the latter remains reserved for the priests:
they are, literally, the Holy of Holies of the Qumran community. The same dis-
tinction seems to hold true for 1QS IX, 5f.: “At that time, the men of the com-
munity (anshei ha-yahad) shall set apart a House of Holiness (bet godesh) for

7 1QS VIL, 4-10.

n but glosses over
8 Vermes’s “an Assembly of Supreme Holiness” smoothens the translatio
the allusion to the “Holy of Holies” in the Temple.
holy dwelling,” glossing
9 Both Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar and Vermes have a “most
over the allusion to the “Holy of Holies” in the Temple.
116 Chapter 4

Aaron in order to be united as a Holy of Holies (qodesh godashim), and a House

of the Community (bet yahad) for Israel, those who walk in perfection.”!° Again,
the House of the Community is for the ordinary members, whereas the priests are
the community (yahad) of the Holy of Holies, the innermost part of the Temple
where God resides.
It is only against this background of the community’s priestly orientation and
its identification with the Temple that the concept of the sect’s communion with
the angels can be fully understood. The wholly integrated members of the sect
with the priests at their head lived a life in absolute cultic purity and were there-
fore worthy of communicating with the angels. More precisely, the Qumran sect
was convinced that the angels were united with its members and were spiritually
present in the community. In other words, we encounter here the exact reverse
of the ascent apocalypses. It is not some chosen hero who ascends to heaven and
is transformed into an angel in order to approach the divine throne but rather
the angels that descend to earth into the community of the chosen and elect of
Israel so as to unite with them. The fact that the earthly Temple is polluted does
not result in a hero’s ascent to heaven to see the true heavenly Temple; instead,
the priests of the heavenly Temple unite with the true priests of the true earthly
Temple to assist them in their fight against the forces of darkness and to jointly
usher in the period of salvation and eternal bliss on earth. Two major if overlap-
ping concepts of the sect’s communion with the angels can be distinguished, as
detailed in the next two sections.!!

Communion with the Angels in the Holy War

The eschatological holy war, which the Qumran community expects to begin
soon, is not only a battle of the Sons of Light against the Sons of Darkness
'0 Vermes’s translation unfortunately obfuscates the meaning of the text: “the men of the
Community shall set apart a House of Holiness in order that it may be united to the most holy
things and a House of Community for Israel.”
'' For the relevant literature, see especially Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn, Enderwartung und
gegenwartiges Heil (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1966), pp. 66-93; Peter von der
Osten-Sacken, Gott und Belial. Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zum Dualismus in
den Texten aus Qumran (Géttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1969), pp. 222-232; Georg
Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde und im Neuen Testament (Got-
tingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1971), pp. 125ff.; Schafer, Rivalitdt, pp. 33-40; Her-
mann Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild in Texten der Qumrangemeinde (Gottingen:
Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1980), pp. 224-227; Michael Mach, Entwicklungsstadien des
jtidischen Engelglaubens in vorrabbinischer Zeit (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck],
1992), pp. 209 ff. I am following here my own distinction between military and liturgical com-
munion, with the purity of the camp resulting from the military communion, since I find Mach’s
distinction between military, priestly-liturgical, and present (prdsentisch) communion rather
confusing (pp. 209 f.). All of these communions are “present” in the sense that the presence of
the angels is experienced as immediate.
 Qumran 7

but also a battle between the heavenly Prince Michael, backed by his angelic
host, and Belial, the Prince of Darkness, who is backed by his angels. Michael
is known from the biblical book of Daniel as the angel of the people of Israel
(Dan. 12:1) who, together with the angel Gabriel, fights first against the angelic
Prince of Persia and then against the Prince of Greece (Dan. 10:20f.); each na-
tion, therefore, has an angel who represents his nation in heaven. Whereas in
Daniel the battle between the angels of the various nations and their hosts takes
place in heaven and is mirrored in the earthly battle of the Maccabees against
the Seleucid oppressors (with their Jewish supporters) — in fact, the battle on
earth “replays” what has been decided already in the celestial battle — in Qum-
ran the angels physically join forces with the human army on earth and lead it
_ to victory.
The major Qumran text that describes the eschatological battle is the so-called
War Scroll (1QM, 4QM), which is preserved in a number of versions and may
have achieved its final form in the last decades of the first century BCE or at the
beginning of the first century ce.!” As in Daniel, the final battle is waged against
the Jewish opponents of the Qumran community in Jerusalem, as well as against
the foreign oppressor. At this point in history the latter are no longer the Greeks
but the Romans, who in the Qumran documents are denoted by the symbolic
name “Kittim” —a name that is mentioned several times in the Hebrew Bible but
is applied to the Romans for the first time in Daniel (Dan. 11:30).'* These Kittim
figure most prominently in the War Scroll (1QM I, 9-12):
(I, 9) On the day on which the Kittim fall, there shall be battle, and savage destruction
before the God (10) of Israel, for this will be the day determined by him since ancient
times for the war of extermination against the sons of darkness (benei hoshekh). On this
(day), the assembly of gods ( ‘adat elim) and the community of men (gehillat anashim)
shall confront each other for great destruction. (11) The sons of light (benei or) and
the lot of darkness (goral hoshekh) shall battle together for God’s might, amid the roar
of a huge multitude and the shout of gods and men (teru ‘at elim wa-’anashim), on the
day of the calamity. It will be a time of (12) suffering fo[r al]l the people redeemed by
until its
God. Of all their sufferings, none will be like this, from its sudden beginning
end in eternal redemption.

The two camps that fight the decisive and ultimate battle are the “Kittim” with
the “sons” or “company of darkness,” on the one hand, and the “assembly of
The
gods” with the “community of men” and the “sons of light” on the other.
a quo around
12 Vermes, Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 104. Jean Duhaime suggests a terminus
middle of the first century BCE; see his The War
164 BcE and a terminus ad quem around the
10M and Related Manuscrip ts (London: T. & T. Clark Internatio nal, 2004), pp. 97f.
Texts:
campaign against Egypt
13 This verse most likely refers to the collapse of Antiochus’s IV
Egypt once and for all, al-
in 168 BCE, when the Romans forced him to end his war and vacate
in some Qumran documents
though the possibility cannot be excluded that the term “Kittim”
to designate the Seleucids rather
or in certain early layers of the Qumran documents was used
than the Romans.
118 Chapter 4

Kittim are definitely the Romans, and the “sons/company of darkness” presum-
ably are the Jewish rivals of the Qumran sect with their angelic supporters. As
to their opponents, it is obvious that the “assembly of gods” refers to the angelic
supporters of the Qumran community: the Hebrew elim (literally “gods”) de-
signates angels — as already in the Hebrew Bible, where originally Canaanite
gods have been demoted to mere angels in order to be integrated into the Jewish
concept of the one and only God. The “community of men,” of course, is the
Qumran community, and the “sons of light” refers to both the members of the
sect and their angelic supporters. Hence, we encounter here a perfectly balanced
structure: two camps standing in opposition to one another, each consisting of
humans and angels who fight a merciless battle. That this battle is ultimately
fought between human and divine forces on both sides is graphically demon-
strated by the battle shouts of “gods and men”: humans and their angelic com-
rades in arms spur each other on to supreme military performances. There can
be no doubt, finally, that all this is taking place on earth, not in heaven; and there
can likewise be no doubt as to the ultimate triumph of the superior camp — the
Qumran sect with its angels.
This antagonism is expressed in similar terms in a number of texts in the
War Scroll. When it is said (L1QM XV, 14), for example, that the “[wJarrior
gods (gibborei elim) gird themselves for battle,” the text refers again to the an-
gels as participants in the decisive conflict; but when it goes on to say “and the
formation[s of] the h[o]ly ones (sidrei gedoshim) [pre]pare [themselves] for the
day of [revenge],” it is unclear whether the angels are still meant or their human
companions, for the term gedoshim can refer to both angels and humans (in the
sense of “holy community” or “holy people’’).!* Some texts make clear that it
is not just humans and angels that fight each other but that even God himself is
present during the final battle (1QM XII, 7—9):!5
(XII, 7) For you, God, are awe[some] in the glory of your kingdom, and the congrega-
tion of your holy ones ( ‘adat gedoshekhah) is among us for everlasting assistance. We
will [treat] kings with contempt, with jeers (8) and mockery the heroes, for the Lord is
holy and the King of Glory (melekh ha-kavod) is with us together with the Holy Ones
(gedoshim). [Our] he[roes and] the army of his angels are enlisted with us. (9) The
Hero of war (gibbor ha-milhamah) is with our congregation; the host of his spirits
(tzeva’ ruhaw) is with our steps. Our horsemen are [like] clouds and fogs of dew that
cover the earth.

Here the “Holy Ones” are clearly the angels, as are the “army of his angels” and
the “host of his spirits.” They fight together with the “horsemen” of the earthly
community — and God, the “King of Glory,” is in their midst to lead them to
victory.
'* The Aramaic equivalent to gedoshim in Daniel is qaddishin or gaddishei ‘elyonin (cf.
Dan. 7:22, 27); there it refers to the human community, not to the angels.
'S Cf. the parallel in 1QM XIX, If.
 Qumran 119

The detailed description of the weapons and military tactics employed in this
battle plays an important role in the War Scroll; scholars have argued that both
are inspired by the art of war practiced by the Roman legion rather than by the
Greek phalanx.!° Particularly instructive is the graphic depiction of the “towers”
surrounded on three sides by “shields” and equipped with “spears,” advancing
from the formation of soldiers (1QM IX, 10 ff.). These are obviously the fortified
towers used in the Roman battle order, but what is unique in this battle order as
envisaged by the Qumran sect is the continuation (1QM IX, 14-16): “And on
all the shields of the towers (15) they shall write: on the first, Michael, [on the
second, Gabriel, on the third,] Sarie/, and on the forth, Raphael. (16) Michael
and Gabriel on [the right, and Sariel and Raphael on the left].” Instead of the em-
_ blems borne by the Roman soldiers, the holy warriors at Qumran carry no picto-
rial images but solely the names of the four archangels who head the angelic host
fighting with them: Michael, Gabriel, Sariel, and Raphael. These angels — except
for Sariel, who is replaced by Phanuel — are immediately reminiscent of the four
archangels Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Phanuel in the Similitudes who ac-
company God when he approaches Enoch from his throne in the heavenly Holy
of Holies (1 En. 71:9 f.).!” The archangels (whatever their number, mostly four or
seven) are the immediate entourage of God; they surround him and accompany
him when he leaves his throne. Hence, the fact that their names are inscribed
on the shields of the towers used in the final battle not only means that they are
present (this is taken for granted), it also indicates that God himself is present in
the battle order of the Qumran warriors.
One of the major theological doctrines of the Qumran sect is that everything
is preordained or predestined by God. This holds true as well for membership in
the community of the elect, of those who will be rescued in the final battle. In
fact, from the very beginning, the Qumran warriors are registered in the heavenly
book of life (1QM XI], 1-5):
(XII, 1) For there is a multitude of the holy ones (qedoshim) in heaven and hosts of the
angels (tziv’ot mal’akhim) is in your holy dwelling (zevul godshekha) to [praise] your
estab-
[truth]. And the chosen ones of the holy people (behirei ‘am qodesh) (2) you have
lished for yourself among t[hem.] The book of the names of all their armies (tzeva’am)
just is in
is with you in your holy abode (bi-me ‘on godshekha), and the num[ber of the
(bi-zevul kevodkha). (3) The favors of your blessings and
your glorious dwelling-place
of your peace you engraved for them with the chisel of life, in order to rule
the covenant
[ch]osen ones
[over them] during all times eternal, (4) to muster the arm[ies] of your
their thousands and their myriads, together with your
(tziv’ot behirekha) according to
a) [and with] your angels (mal ‘akhekha), to have the upper hand
holy ones (gedoshekh
lawsuit of your judgments, so that
(5) in battle [and destroy] the rebels of the earth in the
the chosen ones of heaven (behirei shamayim).
[they may] triu[mph] together with
Texts, pp. 83 ff.
16 See Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 104; Duhaime, The War
Sariel, Raphael, and Gabriel who “looked down
17 Tp the Book of the Watchers it is Michael,
from the Sanctuar y in heaven” (1 En. 9:1).
120 Chapter 4

Here, the “holy ones” in vv. 1 and 4 are identical with the “host of the angels”;
they are angels and not humans. They do what they are supposed to do: they
reside in heaven and praise God. The “chosen ones of the holy people,” on the
other hand, are the members of the Qumran community; they are listed with God
and his angels in the book of life, and it is registration in this heavenly record
that qualifies them for the final battle together with the angels (v. 4) and for the
expected triumph over their enemies (v. 5). Only one’s predestined registration
in the book of life determines who in the end belongs to those elect few who
will survive the battle. One may even go a step further and argue that heavenly
registration not only guarantees participation in the final battle but in a way de-
picts or anticipates the participation of the members of the Qumran community
in the heavenly praise of the angels. True, the “holy ones” who praise God are
the angels and not the members of the Qumran community; but still, just as the
“chosen ones of the holy people” are chosen to fight with the angels, in a similar
way they are also present among the angels when they commence their heav-
enly praise. This passage, therefore, seems to indicate that military communion
with the angels cannot be separated from liturgical communion. The human and
angelic elect are closely bonded, both in their military action and in their praise
of God.
Because of the presence of the angels among the holy warriors, it is also im-
perative that only men fit for the battle be admitted to the ranks of warriors and
that there be absolute bodily and cultic purity in their camp. Here again priestly
and military ideas merge (1QM VII, 3—7):!®
(7:3) And no young man, small boy’? or woman at all shall enter their camps when
they leave (4) Jerusalem to go to war, until they return. And no lame (pisseah), or blind
(‘iwwer), or paralyzed (higger) person nor any man afflicted with an indelible blemish
on his flesh, nor any man smitten with an impurity (5) of his flesh, none of these shall
go out to war with them. They shall all be volunteers for war, perfect in spirit and in
body (¢emimei ruach u-vasar) and ready for the day of vengeance. And every (6) man
who has not cleansed himself of his “spring” (/o ‘yihyeh tahor mimqoro) on the day of
the battle shall not go down with them, for the holy angels (mal ‘akhei qodesh) are to-

us See also the parallel 1QSa (1Q28a) II, 3-10, which contains the statutes of the messianic
community:
(3) And no man, smitten with any of the impurities (4) of man, shall enter the assembly of
these; and no man smitten with any of these should be (5) established in his office amongst
the congregation: everyone who is smitten in his flesh, or paralyzed in his feet or (6) in his
hands, or lame, or blind, or deaf, or dumb, or smitten in his flesh with a blemish (7) visible
to the eyes, or the tottering old man unable to keep upright in the midst of the assembly; (8)
these shall not en[ter] to take their place [a]mong the congregation of the men of renown, for
the angels (9) of holiness (mal ’akhei qodesh) are [with] their [congre]gation.
e Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar have only “young boy” (Vermes has just “boy”), but the
text distinguishes between na ‘ar (“young man”) and za ‘atut (“small boy, kid”). But, of
course,
it is also possible to read za ‘atut as an adjective: na ‘ar za ‘atut, “small boy.”
 Qumran 121

gether with their armies (‘im tziv’otam yahad). And there shall be a space (7) between
all their camps for the place serving as a latrine”° of about two thousand cubits, so that
no immodest nakedness will be seen in the surroundings of all their camps.

This text describes the military camp of the eschatological community before
the holy warriors leave Jerusalem for the final battle. It is an all-male camp (or
rather, as we learn from v. 7, thefe are several camps) filled with warriors who
are “perfect in spirit and body.” Excluded from the camp are (1) boys, who are
not yet adults, and women, and (2) adult men who have some kind of bodily
blemish or who are impure for some other unspecified reason. The bodily blem-
ish is specified as lame, blind, and crippled or some other /asting bodily afflic-
tion. An additional impurity is given in v. 6, where the impurity of the “spring”
refers to a nocturnal emission (ba ‘al geri in the later rabbinical terminology).
Finally, we learn (v. 7) that a certain distance must be kept between the camps
and the place serving as latrine.
Scholars have referred to several biblical texts as the background against
which these instructions must be seen and interpreted. First, there is the obvi-
ous parallel of Deut. 23:10—15, which describes the camp of the Israelites, who
are setting off on a military expedition. It is concerned with the impurity caused
by a nocturnal emission (a person rendered unclean by a nocturnal emission
must leave the camp and is allowed to reenter it only after he has taken a bath
of immersion) and the impurity caused by human excrement (an area outside
the camp is designated for bodily relief, and the excrement must be covered
with earth). Therefore, Deut. 23:10-15 and 1QM VII, 3-7 tally with regard to
the setting (military camp) and instructions concerning nocturnal emissions and
the latrine. Moreover, there is remarkable congruence as to the reasons given
for these instructions: according to 1QM it is the presence of the “holy angels”
in the camp, and according to Deuteronomy it is because “the Lord, your God,
moves about in your camp to protect you and to deliver your enemies to you”
(Deut. 23:15). As we have seen, the presence of the angels in the Qumran camp
includes, or rather is the prerequisite for, the presence of God; hence the require-
ment of absolute purity.
A second biblical text adduced by some scholars is Num. 5:1—4, which re-
fers to the camp of the Israelites in the wilderness (not necessarily connected
with military action). Here, instructions are given to remove from the camp any
person, male or female, who is afflicted with leprosy or defiled by a corpse; the
reason again is God’s presence in the camp: “put them outside the camp so that
they do not defile the camp of those in whose midst I dwell” (5:3). Leprosy and
corpse impurity are not mentioned in 1QM, but both may be included in the “in-
delible bodily blemish” and the unspecified impurity (1QM VII, 4).

20 Lit. “for the place of the hand.”

197 Chapter 4

The third biblical text, which is neglected by many scholars but seems to me
highly pertinent to our passage from the War Scroll, is Lev. 21:17-21. It contains
God’s instructions to Moses regarding the priesthood of Aaron and his descend-
ants: “(17) Speak to Aaron and say: No man of your offspring throughout the
ages who has a defect shall be qualified to offer the food of his God. (18) No one
at all who has a defect shall be qualified: no man who is blind ( ‘iwwer), or lame
(pisseah), or mutilated (harum) or has a limb too long (sarua‘);*! (19) no man
who has a broken leg or a broken arm; (20) or who is a hunchback, or a dwarf,
or who has a growth in his eye, or who has a boil-scar, or scurvy, or crushed
testes.” This list of bodily afflictions is more detailed than the one in 1QM, but
it is striking that the first two afflictions listed (“blind” and “lame”) are identi-
cal with those specified in 1QM (“lame” and “blind’); only the third affliction
in 1QM (higger) is missing in the Bible, but it is not impossible that the diffi-
cult sarua‘ in Leviticus would include someone who limps or is paralyzed. In
any case, it is evident that only the passage in Leviticus specifies the “blemish
on the flesh” mentioned so prominently in 1QM. Hence it appears that the in-
structions regarding the military camp of the Qumran warriors are informed by
a patchwork of at least three biblical texts (the nocturnal emission and the place
for the latrine stemming from Deuteronomy, the bodily defect from Leviticus,
and the impurity from Numbers), with Leviticus 21:17—21 giving 1QM a dis-
tinctly priestly flavor.

Liturgical Communion with the Angels

The liturgical or cultic communion of the Qumran sectarians with the angels,
only hinted at in the texts referring to the eschatological battle; finds full expres-
sion in the hymns of the community and in the rules governing its daily life. The
so-called Hodayot or Thanksgiving Hymns (1QH) are a collection of hymns in
which the members of the sect praise God for having saved them from the lot of
the wicked and having gifted them with special knowledge of the divine mys-
teries. Some of the hymns seem not to refer to all the community’s members but
to an individual, probably the Teacher of Righteousness himself, the founder of
the sect. The various hymns hardly belong to the same time but originated at dif-
ferent times and under different circumstances. The entire collection may have
reached its final stage during the last century BcE.”
The hymns share with the texts discussed so far the firm conviction that the
members of the community are purified and free from sin, and that it is this ex-

=e21 For harum o sarua‘ ‘ the JPS translation

: suggests the alternative:
“has a limb too short or
00 long.”
*2 Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 165.
 Qumran 123

traordinary purity that allies them with the angels. Hence, when the Qumran
sectarians perform their privileged task of praising God, they can be certain that
they join in with the celestial praise of the angels (1QH®* XI, 19-23):
(19) I thank you, Lord,
for you have saved my soul from the Pit (shahat),
and from the Netherworld of Abaddon (she ’ol avaddon)
(20) have lifted me up to an eternal height,
so that I can walk on limitless plain.
And I know there is hope for someone
(21) you formed from dust
for an eternal community (sod ‘olam).
The depraved spirit you have purified from great offence
so that he can stand with (22) the host of the holy ones (tzeva’ gedoshim),
and can enter in communion (/a-vo be-yahad)
with the congregation of the sons of heaven (‘adat benei shamayim).
You have cast for man an eternal destiny (goral ‘olam)
with the spirits (23) of knowledge (ruhot da‘at),
so that he might praise your name in a common rejoicing (be-yahad rinnah)
and tell your marvels before all your works.

Here the sectarians speak in full awareness of the fact that they, as members of
the community, are already saved from the Pit and the Netherworld of Abaddon.
In other words, they experience salvation in their own lifetime, by virtue of their
membership in the sect; they know that they are saved and will not descend to
the Netherworld. This is a clear example of immediately realized eschatology,
an eschatological concept that experiences salvation in the here and now.”4 To
be sure, the sectarians continue to expect the full realization of salvation in the
future (in the very near future, indeed), but they already know that, whatever
happens, they will be part of this salvation. There is a certain tension between
immediate eschatology (the firm conviction that one is already saved) and tra-
ditional eschatology (which expects salvation in the future), and it goes without
saying that this tension can be the more easily tolerated the closer the current
situation is to the expected ultimate decision and becomes all the more unbear-

editio prin-
23 Cf. the parallel 1QH* XIX, 10-14. The text division does not follow Sukenik’s
pp. 147 ff.
ceps but 1QH? in Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls, vol. 1,
y in Early
24 On this concept, see David E. Aune, The Cultic Setting of Realized Eschatolog
Sea Scrolls
Christianity (Leiden: Brill, 1972); John J. Collins, Apocalypticism in the Dead
ung in den Qum-
(London: Routledge, 1997), pp.115—129; Hermann Lichtenberger, “Aufersteh
Hermann Lichtenberg er, eds., Auferstehu ng — Resur-
ranfunden,” in Friedrich Avemarie and
The Fourth Durham-Ti ibingen Research Symposion: Resurrectio n, Transfiguration
rection:
y (Tiibingen: Mohr
and Exaltation in Old Testament, Ancient Judaism and Early Christianit
not work automatically:
Siebeck, 2001), pp. 79-91. To be sure, the assurance of salvation does
, some of whom even get
sinfulness remains a constant threat to the members of the community
expelled temporarily or permanently.
124 Chapter 4

able the greater the gap that exists between the imperfect present and the full
realization of salvation in the future.
Whereas the War Scroll puts the emphasis on future salvation (although ex-
pected very soon), the Thanksgiving Scroll is imbued with the certainty that
salvation has already taken place or, to be more precise, that the decisive pre-
requisite for salvation — to be chosen by God — has been fulfilled: the members
of the community are redeemed from the Netherworld and raised up to “eternal
height” because they belong to the “eternal community” of the Qumran sectar-
ians. They are free of sin and therefore able to stand with the “holy ones.” The
full Hebrew expression for “stand” is /e-hityatztzev be-ma‘amad ‘im, literally
“to take a stand/to station oneself in a position/the (same) standing place with”:
the one who prays is physically standing in the very same place with the an-
gels. Since the original place of the angels is in heaven, we may conclude that
the members of the community envisage themselves standing with the angels
in heaven when singing the hymn (although the possibility cannot be ruled out
that the opposite movement has taken place: that the angels have descended to
earth to join the humans in their worship). This is reinforced through the state-
ment that they enter into a yahad (literally “union/communion”) with the “sons
of heaven” and that this presence of humans among the “spirits of knowledge”
(again the angels) is an “eternal destiny,” that is, it will be experienced by the
chosen sectarians forever. The use of the word yahad together with the preposi-
tion ‘im (“with”) is typical of the Qumran concept of the communion of angels
and humans.*° The same is true for the word goral, which appears frequently
in texts mentioning this communion;*° moreover, it is not unlikely that the idea
of an everlasting destiny for humans together with the angels again has priestly
connotations.?’
The hymn climaxes in the last two lines, which specify the purpose of the
heavenly communion of humans and angels: they praise God’s name be-yahad
rinnah, literally “in a joint/united rejoicing.” This phrase alludes to Job 38:7:
“When the morning stars (kokhvei boger) rejoice together (be-ron-yahad),?8 then
all the sons of God (benei elohim) shout for joy.” In the biblical context both
the “morning stars” and the “sons of God” are, of course, angels, and the verse
describes the heavenly praise of the angelic hosts. In contrast to the Bible, in the
Thanksgiving Scroll those who are united in rejoicing are angels and humans,
and the only parallel that similarly applies Job 38:7 not just to angels but to both

*° See Kuhn, Enderwartung, pp. 66 ff.; von der Osten-Sacken, Gott und Belial, pp. 223 ff.;
Schafer, Rivalitét, p. 38, with nn. 24-26.
°° Schafer, Rivalitdt, p. 38, n. 27.
ey See Kuhn, Enderwartung, p. 72, with reference to Ps. 16:5 f., 73:26, and 142:6.
°8 Lit. “at the joint/united rejoicing of the morning stars.”
 Qumran 125

angels and humans is a large midrash complex in the rabbinic literature.”? There
the “morning stars” are identified with Israel,*° and only the “sons of God” re-
main angels. This specification is not particularly exciting (it is typical of the
rabbinic literature); what is provocative, however, is the conclusion drawn from
it, namely, that the angels (“sons of God’’) must withhold their praise until Israel
(the “morning stars’’) have finished apportioning theirs! This interpretation reads
a temporal sequence into the Job verse: the “sons of God” may shout for joy only
after the “morning stars” have rejoiced together. The angels must rein in their
praise of God because it is inferior to the praise of Israel. Hence, whereas the
Thanksgiving Scroll uses Job 38:7 to underline the liturgical communion of an-
gels and humans in heaven, elevating humans to one and the same level with the
angels, rabbinic Judaism uses the very same verse to elevate the humans (Israel)
above even the angels, in a sphere that is commonly regarded as the prerogative
of the angels: divine praise.
Liturgical communion with the angels entails not only participation in the
heavenly praise; it also means that the Qumran community shares with the an-
gels its singular knowledge of God. The angels are the “spirits of knowledge”
(1QH? XI, 22f.), the “mediators of knowledge” (1QH* XXIII, 6) or just “those
who know” (1QH# XIX, 14); the privileged elect, who belong to their commu-
nity, have no further need of a mediator because they share their knowledge
(1QH? XIV, 12 f.):
(12) All the nations may know your truth.
and all the people your glory. ;
For you have brought [your truth and] your [glo]ry
(13) to all the men of your council,
and in a common lot (goral yahad)
with the angels of the face (‘im mal’akhei panim),
without a mediator (melitz benayim) for [your] h[oly ones] [...].

Here we have the same combination of goral and yahad that we observed previ-
ously and that is so characteristic of the Qumranic idea of a shared human and
angelic destiny. The angels are specified as the “angels of the face,” a phrase
that has a distinctive history. The singular “angel of his face/countenance”
a verse
(mal’akh panaw) appears only once in the Hebrew Bible, in Isa. 63:9,
most
that was already causing difficulties for the early interpreters.*! It figures
n, p. 343), and
29 See, e. g., Bereshit Rabbah 65:21; Sifre Deuteronomy § 306 (ed. Finkelstei
parallels; cf. Schafer, Rivalitdt, pp. 170 ff.
to righteousness
30 Because of Dan. 12:3, where it is said that “those who lead the many
[Israel] will be like the stars forever and ever.”
as “(63:8) So he was their
31 The Hebrew can be read in two ways. First, it can be translated
troubles he [God: following the Qere reading Jo instead of the
Deliverer. (9) In all their [Israel’s]
(mal ’akh panaw) delivered them. In
Ketiv reading lo’] was troubled, and the angel of his face
them.” Taken literally, this translatio n creates a tension between
his love and pity he redeemed but his angel
presuppo ses that not God himself
y. 8 (where the subject is God) and v. 9, which
126 Chapter 4

prominently, however, in Jubilees, a book that according to the standard view

was composed around 150 BcE* and was found in a number of fragments in the
Qumran library.*3 There, the revelation to Moses on Mount Sinai is delegated to
the “angel of countenance,” and the boundaries between God and his angel are
blurred.*4 Our 1QH? text, however, which uses the plural “angels of the face,”
apparently follows the more traditional concept of God surrounded by (mostly)
four prominent angels (“archangels”) that we also encountered in the War Scroll
(the four angels inscribed on the shields of the fortified towers used in the de-
cisive battle). It goes back to the Book of the Watchers (1 En. 9:1) and to the
Similitudes (1 En. 40:9; 71:8 ff.), where the angels are termed “four presences”
(panim = prosdpa), who stood “on the four sides of the Lord of spirits” and “ut-
tered praises before the Lord of glory” (1 En. 40:2 f.). In reassuring the members
of the Qumran community that they share a “common lot” with the four “angels
of face/countenance,” the Thanksgiving Scroll elevates them not just to the an-
gelic host but to the level of the four highest angels surrounding God. By impli-
cation this means that the sectarians come as close to God as possible.
Moreover, the four angels and the human sectarians communicate directly
with each other; they need no mediator between them. It seems as if angels and
humans are not only physically together on the same geographic plane but be-
come almost ontologically identical because they understand each other imme-
diately. This is an extremely bold step if we consider the biblical concept of the
prophets — and Moses in particular — as mediating between Israel and God, or
the ascent apocalypses with the premortem ascent to heaven of a chosen hero.
The members of the Qumran community no longer need a Moses who medi-
ates between them and God and transmits the divine revelation; they are like the
angels, not only very close to God but enjoying direct access to angelic knowl-
edge of him. Nor do they need to undergo the complicated procedure of physical
transformation into an angel. As a priestly community on earth they are angels,
privileged to share the angels’ liturgy as well as their knowledge.

redeemed Israel because God shared their troubles to such an extent that he was caught up,
so
to speak, together with Israel in their troubles. (The JPS translation again smoothes this inter-
pretation by adding “himself” after “he”: “In His love and pity he Himself redeemed them.”
But
the “he” relates equally well — or even better — to the “angel of his face.”) In order to avoid
this
problematic interpretation, the Septuagint reads: (63:8) So he was their Deliverer (9) in
all their
troubles. No (using the Kefiv reading /o’ instead of the Qere reading /o ) messenger
(reading /zir
instead of ‘zar’) or angel, his own face (separating between mal ‘akh and panaw) delivered
them.
...” Here there is no real problem —God alone is Israel’s redeemer — but the polemical
tone (“no
messenger or angel”) and the awkward Hebrew (“his face delivered them”)
make it apparent
that this translation is a secondary interpretation directed against the more
literal first one.
. ‘ane Himmelfarb (private communication) prefers to place it in
the 130s or even a lit-
e later. :
*> 1Q17-18; 2Q19-20; 3Q5; 4Q176a+b; 4Q216-224; 4Q482; 11Q12.
*4 See Schafer, Rivalitat, pp. 13-15.
 Qumran 127

The Community Rule (1QS) — probably composed around 100 BCE and re-
garded as one of the oldest documents of the sect — expresses the same idea of
the Qumran sect as the community of the (few) elect who share the knowledge
reserved for angels. 1QS deals with the statutes of the community — initiation
into the sect, its internal hierarchical structure, its discipline — and seems to have
served as a kind of manual for its leaders; in addition, it includes liturgical cer-
emonies, a model sermon, reflections on moral issues, and, at the end, a liturgical
hymnlike piece in which a person (the community’s master?) praises God and
reflects on his destiny and duties. To this hymnic piece belongs the following
quotation (1QS XI, 5-8):
(XI, 5) From the fount of his righteousness (megor tzidqato)
is my justification,
and from his marvelous mysteries (razei pela’aw)
is the light in my heart.
My eyes have gazed (hibitu)
on what always is,
(6) on wisdom that has been hidden from humankind (tushiyyah
asher nisterah me-’enosh),
on knowledge (de ‘ah) and prudent understanding (mezimat ‘ormah)
(hidden) from the sons of men;
on a fount of righteousness (megor tzedaqah)
and a well of strength (miqweh gevurah),
on a spring (7) of glory (ma ‘ayan kavod)
(hidden) from the assembly of flesh (sod basar).
To those whom God has chosen (/a-’asher bahar)
he has given them as an everlasting possession,
and has given them an inheritance
in the lot (8) of the holy ones (goral gedoshim).
He has joined (hibber) their assembly (sod)
to the sons of heaven (‘im benei shamayim)
in order (to form) a council of the community (‘aizat yahad),
and a foundation of the building of holiness (sod mavnit qodesh)
future
to be an everlasting plantation (/e-matta ‘at ‘olam) throughout all (9)
ages.
characteristic
The first part of this hymn contains a number of key terms that are
and its master in
of the knowledge granted the Qumran community in general
source of every-
particular: God’s tzedaqah (“righteousness” or “justice”) is the
ge (“light in
thing — of their “judgment” or “Justification” and of their knowled
are describe in
d
my heart”). The goal and content of their peculiar knowledge
ah), “know1-
terms — “marvelous mysteries” (razei pela’aw), “wisdom” (tushiyy
— that are strik-
edge” (de ‘ah), and “prudent understanding” (mezimat ‘ormah)
Hekhalo t literatur e and that there refer to the
ingly similar to those used in the
 128 Chapter 4

full knowledge of the Torah obtained by the Merkavah mystic.*° It is very likely
that the same association is evoked here, too: the Qumran sectarians have access
to the direct and full knowledge of God that is revealed in the Torah. This is con-
firmed by the phrase “my eyes have gazed (hibitu),” which apparently does not
refer to some kind of vision (in the sense of the ascent apocalypses) but to the
mysteries of the Torah as already described in the Bible (Ps. 119:18): “Open my
eyes that I may gaze (abitah) on the wonders/mysteries of your Torah (nifla’ot
mi-toratekha).”
As obtained by the sectarians, God’s knowledge issues in “righteousness /jus-
tice” (tzedaqah), “power/strength” (gevurah), and “glory” (kavod). These are
theologically loaded terms; to be sure, none of them is reserved for God alone,
but it is striking that gevurah and kavod in particular become terms — already
in the Hebrew Bible, and increasingly in postbiblical texts — synonymous with
God. Hence it would seem that the members of the community, when portrayed
as drinking from the fount of divine righteousness, strength, and glory, are im-
agined as coming very close to and even participating in the divine realm.
However, the text makes it very clear that this wonderful destiny is not granted
to ordinary humans (“sons of men,” “assembly of flesh”’); rather, it is reserved for
the “chosen ones,” who belong to the community of the elect. It is granted them
forever and consists in the communion (“[common] lot”) with the angels, who
are again called “holy ones” and “sons of heaven.” Angels and humans together
form a joint community, which is specified as a “foundation of the building of
holiness” (sod mavnit godesh) and an “everlasting plantation” (matta ‘at ‘olam).
Both phrases are reminiscent of 1QS VIII, 5, a passage that also speaks of an
“everlasting plantation” and calls the council of the community a “house of holi-
ness (bet qodesh) for Israel” and a “foundation of the Holy of Holies (sod godesh
godashim) for Aaron.”*° As we have observed, the latter refers to the commu-
nity as the true Temple, allocating the front part of the Temple (the Sanctuary) to
the ordinary members and the back part (the Holy of Holies) to the priests. The
word used here in 1QS (mavnit) is derived from mivneh, a hapax legomenon in
Ezek. 40:2 that refers to Ezekiel’s eschatological Jerusalem with the Temple at
its center. Hence the everlasting communion of angels and humans, guaranteeing
a perpetual flow of divine knowledge, is again envisaged in priestly terms.
The priestly connotation is even more evident in the final text to be discussed
here, a passage that belongs to the Rule of Blessings (1QSb). The surviving
fragments of this Rule apparently belonged to a collection that was attached to
the Community Rule (1QS) and the War Scroll (1QM). The Rule is no doubt

5 See, e. g., Schiifer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 14 (3 Enoch)

or § 623 (Adjuration
of the Prince of the Countenance).
36 On the Qumranic use of “plantation” and “building,” see Johann
Maier, Die Texte vom
Toten Meer, vol. 2 (Munich: Ernst Reinhardt Verlag, 1960),
pp. 89-91, 93 f.
 Qumran 129

eschatologically oriented and contains the blessings bestowed (1) on the mem-
bers of the community, (2) on the high priest (obviously the priestly Messiah of
Aaron), (3) on the priests, and (4) on the Prince of the Congregation (the Dav-
idic Messiah of Israel). The blessings are intended for the messianic age, and it
is not clear whether they served any practical purpose; on the other hand, it is
hard to imagine that they were composed and preserved simply for future use
(even though this future was expected to transpire relatively soon), and it may
well be that they were actually recited in the community “during the course of
some liturgy anticipating and symbolizing the coming of the Messianic era.”>”
In the part containing the blessing bestowed on the priests we read the following
(1QSb [1Q28b] IV, 22-28):
(22) [For] he has chosen you (bahar bekhah) [...] (23) to raise above the heads of the
holy ones (/a-set be-rosh gedoshim) and with you to [...] of your hand (24) the men
of the council of god (‘a/zat e/), and not by the hand of the prince (sar) of [...] one to
his fellow. May you be (25) like an angel of the face (ke-mal’akh panim) in the abode
of holiness (ma ‘on godesh) for the glory of the God of the Hos[ts. 3° ... You shall] be
_ around, serving in the Temple of the (26) kingdom (hekhal malkhut), casting the lot
(mappil goral) with the angels of the face (mal ’akhei panim) and (in) common council
(‘atzat yahad) [with the holy ones] for eternal time and for all the perpetual periods.
For (27) [all] his [ju]Jdgments [are truth]. And may he make you hol[y] among his peo-
ple, like a luminary [...] for the world in knowledge (da ‘at), and to enlighten the face
of the Many! (28) [... And may he make you] a diadem of the Holy of Holies (godesh
godashim), because [you shall be made ho]ly for him and you shall glorify his name
and his holy things (qodashaw).

The priests (addressed in the singular) are the chosen of the chosen ones, the
vanguard of the community of the elect (the “holy ones” in v. 23, above whose
heads they rise, seem to be the members of the community and not the angels).
They are “like the angel of the face,” which is reminiscent of 1QH* XIV, 13,°?
where all members of the community are said to “share a common lot with the
angels of the face.” Here they “cast the lot with the angels of the face,” which
probably indicates that they collaborate with the angels on passing the sentence
at the final judgment. The priests and the angels enter into a close bond; they
are identical. They serve together in the heavenly Temple, called “abode of ho-
liness” (ma‘on godesh)*° and “Temple of the kingdom” (hekhal malkhut);"' or
rather, the priests of the Qumran community represent the Holy of Holies of the

37 Vermes, Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 235.

38 See also 1QSb III, 25f., where the priests are blessed from God’s “holy Abode” (ma ‘on
godsho) and called a “glorious ornament (mikhlol hadar) in the midst of the holy ones.”
39 See above, p. 125.
40 The term ma ‘on qodshekha is biblical (see, e.g., Deut. 26:15) and refers in most cases to
God’s heavenly abode.
to the
41 The term hekhal malkhut is not biblical; only hekhal melekh, which, however, refers
palace of an earthly king, not to God’s Temple (see 2 Kings 20:18; Ps. 45:16; Dan. 1:4).
130 Chapter 4

earthly Temple (v. 28) and as such intermingle with the angels in heaven. Earthly
and heavenly Temple overlap or even become the same, because priests and an-
gels likewise overlap or become the same.’ To be sure, the priests are only the
leaders of the community, and what is here said of the priests refers elsewhere
to all full members of the community (see above); the privileged position of
the priests only reinforces the priestly character of the Qumran community as a
whole. Finally, the aspect of divine knowledge is again emphasized, for armed
with their knowledge the priests enlighten “the Many,” presumably the members
of the community.

The Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice

The so-called Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice (shirot ‘olat ha-shabbat) are a cycle
of thirteen songs altogether, discovered in a number of manuscripts in caves 4
and 11 at Qumran and at Masada; they were first made public in a lecture by John
Strugnell,*? and the editio princeps was provided by Carol Newsom. Whether
they originated within the Qumran community and are sectarian documents in
the strict sense of the word or whether they were produced outside the commu-
nity and are to be regarded as extra- or even presectarian is a matter of debate.*
There can be no doubt, however, that they played a vital role in the literary and
historical context of the Qumran community; this can be inferred from the sheer
quantity of fragments found in Qumran and the many parallels between the
songs and other Qumranic texts*® (the discovery of a fragment at Masada should
not be taken as decisive proof of nonsectarian authorship).*”

® See also 1QSb III, 5f., a very fragmentary text, where the messianic high priest is ad-
dressed and mentioned together “with the holy angels” (mal ’akhei godesh).
‘8 John Strugnell, “The Angelic Liturgy at Qumran—4Q Serek Sirdt ‘Olat Ha8Sabbat,” in
Congress Volume: Oxford 1959 (Leiden: Brill, 1960), pp. 318-345.
“* Carol Newsom, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice: A Critical Edition (Atlanta, GA: Schol-
ars Press, 1985).
‘5 In her editio princeps Newsom concluded her deliberations on the provenance of the
songs with the cautious working hypothesis “that the scroll of the Sabbath Shirot is a product
of the Qumran community” (Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, p. 4). Since then, however, she
has changed her mind and regards as the “most plausible explanation” that the songs originated
“outside of and probably prior to the emergence of the Qumran community” but nevertheless
“became an important text in the community”: Carol Newsom, ““Sectually Explicit’ Literature
from Qumran,” in William H. Propp, Baruch Halpern, and David N. Freedman, eds., The He-
brew Bible and Its Interpreters (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), p. 184.
“6 See the useful list of thematic and formal features that the songs share with sectarian ma-
terial in Ra‘anan S. Boustan (Abusch), “Angels in the Architecture: Temple Art and the Poetics
of Praise in the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice,” in Boustan and Reed, Heavenly Realms and
Earthly Realities, p.198,n. 11. °
sa Vermes (The Dead Sea Scrolls, p. 221) suggests that either “some Essenes joined the
revolutionaries and took with them some of their manuscripts, or that the rebels occupied
 Qumran 131

The thirteen songs were apparently composed for performance during the first
thirteen Sabbaths of the year according to the solar calendar of the Qumran com-
munity.*® The surviving openings of the songs connect them with a holocaust
offering made on these Sabbaths (as described in Num. 28:9 f. and Ezek. 46:4 f.),
but there is no evidence whatsoever that the sectarians ever offered sacrifices;
it has been suggested, therefore, that the songs were part of a liturgical perfor-
mance intended to serve as replacement for the cultic Sabbath sacrifices offered
in the polluted Jerusalem Temple.*? On closer inspection, however, it is difficult
to determine the precise liturgical function of the songs within the framework
of the community. For even a cursory reading of the songs immediately reveals
that we are not here dealing with liturgical texts in the conventional sense of the
word: the songs describe the angelic worship for each of the thirteen Sabbaths,
but they remain conspicuously silent with regard to the actual words of praise
intoned by the angels; instead, they invite the angels to praise God, and then de-
scribe the order and manner of the liturgical activities performed by the angels in
heaven.*° As such, scholars assign the songs to the genre of “liturgical invitation”
rather than to the category of texts that record the contents of actual praises.°!
The first song calls on the angels to praise God (hallelu) and sets the tone for
the whole cycle with its distinct terminology. From the very outset the angels
are given the striking designation of e/ohim or elim — literally “gods” — and in a

the Qumran area after its evacuation by the Community and subsequently transferred Essene
manuscripts to their final place of resistance”; Christopher Morray-Jones rightly observes that
“if discovery outside Qumran were held to be proof of non-sectarian authorship the unambigu-
ously sectarian Damascus Rule would likewise be excluded”: Christopher Morray-Jones, “The
Temple Within: The Embodied Divine Image and Its Worship in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other
Early Jewish and Christian Sources,” SBL.SPS 37 (1998), p. 410.
48 Newsom, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, p. 19.
49 Cf. A.S. van der Woude, “Fragmente einer Rolle der Lieder fiir das Sabbatopfer aus Hohle
XI von Qumran (11 QSirSabb),” in Wilhelmus C. Delsman et al., eds., Von Kanaan bis Kerala:
Festschrift J.P.M. van der Ploeg (Kevelaer: Butzon and Bercker; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neu-
kirchener Verlag, 1982), p. 332; Johann Maier, “Zu Kult und Liturgie der Qumrangemeinde,”
RdQ 14 (1989/90), p. 572; idem, “Shire ‘Olat hash-Shabbat. Some Observations on Their Cal-
endric Implications and on Their Style,” in Julio Trebolle Barrera and Luis Vegas Montaner,
eds., The Madrid Qumran Congress, vol. 2 (Leiden: Brill; Madrid: Editorial Complutense,
1992), pp. 552f.
50 Therefore, it is too simplistic an approach in my view to declare that the songs are “lit-
urgy” and meant to be “performed,” and to conclude from this that “the performance is clearly
intended to induce an altered state of consciousness — a mystical experience” (Philip Alexan-
der, private communication). Even if the songs are a liturgical performance, I don’t see how
a performance necessarily leads to an altered state of consciousness in the sense of a mystical
experience.
51 Bilhah Nitzan, Qumran Prayer and Religious Poetry (Leiden: Brill, 1994), pp. 183-1 89,
Sacrifice
195200; Ra‘anan Boustan (Abusch), “Sevenfold Hymns in the Songs of the Sabbath
Hekhalot Literature: Formalism, Hierarchy and the Limits of Human Participation ,”
and the
in James Davila, ed., The Dead Sea Scrolls as Background to Postbiblical Judaism and Early
(Leiden: Brill,
Christianity: Papers from an International Conference at St. Andrews in 2001
2003), p. 225.
13? Chapter 4

remarkable intensification: “the gods of all the holiest of the holy ones” (e/ohei
kol gedoshei qedoshim),* the latter phrase, of course, alluding to the “Holy of
Holies” (godesh ha-qodashim) of the Temple, and therefore the text explicitly
states: “[He es]tablished them [for] himself as the ho[liest of the holy ones in the
ho]ly of holies” (1. 10). As such, they are also called the “ministers of the face
(mesharetei panim) in the inner sanctuary of his glory” (devir kevodo)*? — devir
being the equivalent of “Holy of Holies” (godesh ha-qodashim) according to
the structure of Solomon’s Temple as described in 1 Kings 6:5 — or, in a termi-
nology unique to Qumran, the “priests of the inner sanctum” (kohanei goreyv).>4
Addressed here — and throughout most of the cycle — are only the angels in their
capacity as priests of the heavenly Temple. Human beings play an inferior role
(if they play a role at all); we learn merely in passing that the angels “appease
his will for all who repent of sin” (1. 16).
The only song that explicitly raises the question of the status of human beings
in relation to the angels is Song II. After having stated that the angels are “glori-
fied in all the camps of the gods (mahanei elohim) and are fearsome (nora’im)
to the human councils (/e-mosadei anashim),”> the author asks, “But [...] how
shall we be considered [among] them? And how shall our priesthood [be con-
sidered] in their dwellings? And [our] ho[liness ...] their holiness? [What] is the
offering of our tongues [compared] with the knowledge of the g[ods ...]?”°® Not
only are human beings inferior to the angels, the human priesthood (and accord-
ingly human knowledge), too, is nothing compared to the angelic priesthood in
heaven. Since this critique is obviously directed at the members of the Qum-
ran community and not at the despised Jerusalem priesthood, it seems as if the
firm conviction of a close communion of angels and human beings is somewhat
muted in the songs. If the songs reflect such a communion, the human side of this
communion acts much more modestly than in some of the texts discussed above;
our author is keenly aware of the fact that the human sectarians are not really an-
gels and that they owe everything that they embody and achieve to the angels.
Songs III-V are almost completely destroyed, but most of Songs VI-VIII is
preserved; in fact, these three songs occupy a pivotal position within the whole
cycle. Carol Newsom has argued that Song VII constitutes the climax of the
cycle,°’ whereas Christopher Morray-Jones opts for Song VII as the “prelimi-

z 4Q400 1 i, 1. 2: I follow the edition and translation (with modifications) by Carol New-
som, in Esther Eshel, Hanan Eshel, Carol Newsom, Bilhah Nitzan, Eileen Schuller, and Ada
Yardeni, eds., Qumran Cave 4, vol. 6: Poetical and Liturgical Texts, part 1 (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1998), pp. 173-401; see also Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls,
pp. 807 ff.
3: Thid., 14;
4 Thid., 1. 17 and 19,
°° 4Q400 2, 1. 2, and 4Q401 14,1. 8.
© Ibidscle 5-7
7 Newsom, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, pp.13—-15.
 Qumran 133

nary crescendo” and Song XII as the “true climax of the liturgical cycle as a
whole.”>*® Whatever the structure and function of the cycle may be, there can be
no doubt that Songs VII and XII are crucial within the composition of the cycle.
“Sandwiched in a climactic position”*’ between Song VI (which describes the
praises of the seven chief angelic princes) and Song VIII (describing the praises
of the corresponding seven secondary princes), Song VII not only calls on the
angels to perform their praise but introduces the active participation of the ani-
mate architecture of the heavenly Temple for the first time into the cycle. This
phenomenon, which Ra‘anan Boustan (Abusch) called the “increasing angeli-
fication of temple architecture,” is new and most prominent in the Songs of the
Sabbath Sacrifice.
Song VII begins with the typical invitations to the angels to praise God; they
are again called “gods” (elohim, elim), with phrases blurring the divisions be-
tween them and God: the “exalted ones among all the gods of knowledge (elei
da‘at),”®! the “holy ones of the gods (gedushei elohim),”® “gods of the gods of
exaltation (elohim me-’elei rum),”® “wondrous gods (elohei pele), and so
forth. Accordingly, God is “[God (e/) of gods (e/im)] to all the chiefs of exal-
tation (rashei meromim) and king of king[s] to all the eternal councils.”® But
then the song suddenly switches from the angels to architectural elements of
the heavenly Temple. “With these [the angels],” the text continues, “let all the
foundations of the hol]y of holies (vesodei godesh qodashim) praise, the uplift-
ing pillars (‘amudei masa) of the most exalted abode (zevul rum rumim), and all
the corners of its structure (pinot mavnito).”** Now the foundations of the Holy
of Holies of the heavenly Temple, together with its pillars and the corners of its
structure, join in with the praise of God; the architectural structures of the Tem-
ple are animated and become living and praising creatures, like the angels.°’ But
then the song switches to the angels once more:

58 Morray—Jones, “The Temple Within,” p. 417. Boustan (“Sevenfold Hymns,” pp. 226f.)
modifies this by arguing that the middle Songs VI-VIII function as a “microcosm of the larger
whole.”
59 James R. Davila, Liturgical Works (Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge: William B. Eerdmans,
2000), p. 84.
60 Boustan, “Sevenfold Hymns,” p. 227.
61 4Q403 1 i, 1. 30f.
e foid:, F. 31.
Sebi. L353,
4 Thid., 1. 36.
6 Tbid., 1. 34.
66 Thid., 1. 41. Davila (Liturgical Works, p. 123) fails to recognize the syntax of the Hebrew
and translates: “With these let all the fo[undations of] the most [hol]y (place) psalm the load-
bearing pillars of the most exalted abode and all the corners of its construction.” According to
this interpretation it is not the foundations, the pillars, and the corners (of the heavenly Temple)
that praise God but the foundations that praise the pillars and corners! ;
67 As Philip Alexander aptly remarks (private communicat ion): “I think the most obvious
the
explanation of the singing architecture of the celestial temple is that it is meant to convey
134 Chapter 4

Sin[g praise] to Go[d who is aw]esome in power, [all you spirits of knowledge and light
(ruhei da ‘at we-'or)] in order to [exa]|t together the most pure firmament (raqia‘ tohar
tehorim) of [his] holy sanctuary (migqdash godsho). [And praise hi]m, O spirits of Go[d]
(ruhei elohim), in order to pr[aise for ever and e]ver the firmament of the upper[m]ost
heaven (raqia ‘ rosh meromim), all [its] b[eams] (qorotaw) and its walls (girotaw), a{l]l
its [for]m (mavnito), the work of [its] struc[ture] (tavnito).°*

Now the angels return as the subject of the praise, but the object is no longer
God alone but also the firmament of the heavenly Temple with its beams and
walls. Hence, the animate architecture of the heavenly Temple not only joins in
with the angelic praise, it also becomes its object; the text wavers between the
angels praising God, the architectural elements of the Temple participating in
this praise, and the structure of the heavenly Temple as the object of the praise.
The “most pure firmament” alludes, of course, to the “very heavens in purity”
(‘etzem ha-shamayim la-tohar) in Ex. 24:10 and to the firmament of “dreadful
ice” in Ezek. 1:22 that carries God’s throne.°’ Here the firmament carries the
heavenly Temple, which doubtless accommodates the divine throne. This be-
comes clear from the beginning of the second column of 4Q403, where God’s
“footstool” (hadom raglaw) is explicitly mentioned.”° It is the Glory of God
seated on his throne in the heavenly Holy of Holies or devir that is the climax
of the seventh song.
The language of this second part of the song is deeply imbued with Ezek-
iel’s imagery. Not only is God’s Glory (kavod) addressed (4Q403 1 ii, 1. 4; cf.
Ezek. 1:28), but the activity of the angels comes very close to the function of
the creatures (hayyot) as described in Ezekiel. Compare the song’s “from be-
tween them gods (e/ohim) run (yarutzu) like the appearance of coals of [fire ...]
(mar ‘eh gahalei esh) moving round about (mithalekh savivy””! with Ezek. 1:13:
“the shape of the creatures (hayyot), their appearance (mar ‘ehem), was like coals
of fire (gahalei esh),” a firelike appearance that “was moving to and fro (mithale-
khet) among the creatures.”””* Also, whereas in Ezekiel the seer hears (eshma‘)
the sound of the creatures’ wings, in Song VII “the sound of blessing is glorious
in the hearing (mishma ‘) of the gods (elohim).””? Unlike in Ezekiel, however, the

idea that it is a living temple, made up, in fact, of angels, just as the community on earth is a
living temple — a miqdash adam.”
§ 4Q403 1 i, 1. 41-44.
ee Moreover, the text probably plays with ragia‘ and megareh (“set the beams”) as in the
later rabbinic interpretation of Ps. 104:3 (“He who sets the beams [megareh] of his lofts [‘ali-
yyotaw] in the waters”); see Bereshit Rabbah 1:3 and parallels; Schafer, Rivalitdt, pp. 52f.
7 4Q403 1 ii, 1. 2.
eeaThiawt, 6;
” The yarutzu in 4Q403 is mirrored in Ezek. 1:14: “and the creatures darted to and fro
(ratzo wa-shov).” :
® 4Q403 1 ii, 1. 12. Interestingly enough, the copyist originally wrote nishma‘, which he
deleted and corrected to nikhbad (“is glorious”).
 Qumran 135

“decorations of the inner shrine” (mahashavei"™ devir) participate in the praise

of the angels “with wondrous psalms,”” and finally the “chariots” (merkavot,
plural) join in together with the cherubim and ofannim.’°
The participation of the animate Temple architecture in the angelic praise
appears for the first time in the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, but it is hardly
unique to them. The closest parallel is, not by accident, the Hekhalot literature.
Like the angels and the architectural elements in the songs, in the Hekhalot lit-
erature God’s throne (called kisse ha-kavod,‘throne of Glory”) is often personi-
fied and called upon to praise God.”’ The following highly poetical invitation,
addressed to the throne by the angels who carry the divine throne (obviously
the hayyot), is repeated several times in Hekhalot Rabbati and other texts of the
Hekhalot literature:”*
Rejoice, rejoice, supernal dwelling!
Shout, shout for joy, precious vessel!
Made marvelously and a marvel!
Gladden, gladden the king who sits upon you!

The throne speaks directly to God and invites him to sit down upon him,” and
even its hymn is disclosed in Hekhalot Rabbati:*°
Like the voice of the seas,
like the roaring of the rivers,
like the waves of Tarshish,
which the south wind drives forward,
like the voice of the hymn of the throne of glory,
which calls to mind and extols
the magnificent king
[with] loud voice and extremely great roaring.
Voices rush away from him,
from the throne of glory,

74 The word is derived from “to imagine designs” (Jahshov mahashavot) in Ex. 31:4.
7 4Q403 1 ii, 1. 13.
76 Mention of the ofannim is another indication of Ezekiel’s influence (the juxtaposition of
cherubim and ofannim clearly goes back to the identification of the hayyot and their “wheels”
with the cherubim in Ezek. 10). The “chariot” (merkavah) in the technical sense of the word
does not appear yet in Ezekiel, who instead uses “throne” (kisse) — cf. Ezek. 1:26 — but the two
words are soon to be identified (first in 1 Chron. 28:18; cf. also Sir. 49:8).
77 The throne in the Hekhalot literature, however, is not the object of the angelic praise (at
most indirectly).
78 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 94, 154, 634, 687, cf. also § 686. The translation fol-
lows Schafer, Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 13 f. This parallel has been noticed by Newsom in
Eshel et al., Qumran Cave 4, vol. 6, p. 277, but strangely enough has been missed by Davila,
parallels
Liturgical Works, whose commentary on the songs abounds with (often unwarranted)
from the Hekhalot literature.
79 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 99.
80 Tbid., § 162; cf. also § 251.
136 Chapter 4

to help him,
to strengthen him,
when he calls to mind and praises
the mighty of Jacob,
as is written: “Holy, holy, holy.” (Isa. 6:3)

The following songs (IX—XI) are again badly preserved. What remains of Song
IX refers to the “vestibules of their entryways” (ulamei mevo ’ehem) or the “ves-
tibules where the King enters” (ulamei mevo’ei melekh),*' clearly alluding to the
“vestibule” (ulam) of Solomon’s Temple,®* which led into the Sanctuary (he-
khal), which in turn led to the Holy of Holies or inner Sanctuary (qodesh ha-qo-
dashim or devir). These vestibules, as well as the “glorious shrines” (devirim),®
are engraved with figures of “living gods” (e/ohim hayyim), that is, with images
of angels.** This idea of the Temple as decorated with images is apparently in-
spired by Ezek. 41, where the walls of the “vestibule” (u/am) and the “sanctuary”
(hekhal) as well as the doors leading to the sanctuary and to the Holy of Holies
(qodesh [ha-qodashim]) were carved with engravings of cherubs and palm trees
(Ezek. 41:18, 25).8 Hence, the angels (paradoxically called elohim hayyim)
turn into decorations of the heavenly Temple and, in order to become part of the
praise of the Temple’s architecture, are “reanimated” again.
This description is continued in what remains of Songs X and XI. Song X
mentions “rivers of fire” (naharei ‘or)** and the “curtain of the inner shrine of the
King” (parokhet devir ha-melekh),®’ obviously referring to the curtain in front
of the Holy of Holies with cherubim worked into it.8* Song XI returns to the
animate celestial architecture with “figures of gods” (elohim),* the “floor of the
wondrous inner shrines” (midras devirei pele),”° “images of living gods” (tzurot
elohim hayyim),’' “[fi]gures of the shapes of gods, engraved round about their
[gllorious brickwork” (tzurot elohim mehuqqagei saviv le-livnei kevodam),*? and
so on — all taking part in the heavenly praise of God, but a praise that culminates
in a “sound of quiet stillness” (gol demamat sheqet).?? The latter is clearly again
inspired by Ezekiel (see below), as is the movement of God’s chariots (plural),

81 4Q405 14-15i, 1. 4f.

82 1 Kings 6:3; 1 Chron. 28:11; Ezek. 40:48.
> Multiplication of the structures of the heavenly Temple is typical of the songs.
+
«90
90
4Q405 14-15 i, 1. 5-7.
*° This concept in turn goes back to the description of Solomon’s Temple in 1 Kings 6:29-35
(here calyxes are added to the cherubim and palms).
% 4Q405 15 ii-16, 1. 2 (alluding to the nehar di-nur in Dan. 7: 10).
87 Thid., I. 3 and 5.
$8 Ex, 26:3 1=33: Bx. 36:35; Lev. 16:2: the Tabernacle; 2 Chron. 3:14: Solomon’s Temple.
8 4Q405 19, 1. 2.
©

Tbid., 1 2E.
2) Ibid. 14
‘Ibid, St.
”3 Thid., |. 7,
 Qumran 137

described at the very end of the song: “as they move (be-/ekhtema) [they do not
turn aside (/o yissabu) to any ... they go straight (vishru) to ...].”%4
Then follows Song XII, presumably the ultimate climax of the cycle. The first
part of it describes the service of the cherubs in the celestial Temple, closely
modeled along the lines of Ezek. 1 (and also 10):%
(7) In the tabern[acle (mishkan) of God of] knowledge the [Cheru]bim fall before
him; and they bl[es]s. When they rise, a sound of divine stillness (gol demamat elo-
him)
(8) [is heard]; and there is a tumult of jubilation (hamon rinnah) at the lifting up of
their wings, a sound of divine [stillnes]s. The image of the chariot throne (tavnit kisse
merkavah) do they bless (which is) above the expanse (raqia ‘) of the Cherubim.
(9) [And the splend]or of the expanse of light (hod raqia‘ ha-’or) do they sing
(which is) beneath the seat of his glory (moshav kevodo). And when the wheels move
(be-lekhet ha-ofannim), the holy angels return. They go out from between
(10) its glorious [h]ubs ([ga]/galei kevodo). Like the appearance of fire (ke-mar ’eh
esh) (are) the spirits of the holy of holies (ruhot godesh qodashim) round about (saviv),
the appearance of streams of fire (mar’eh shevulei esh) like hashmal (bi-demut hash-
mal). And there is a [ra]diant substance (ma ‘aseh [n]ogah),
(11) gloriously multi-coloured (be-rugmat kavod), wondrously hued, brightly blen-
ded (memulah toha{r]),”° the spirits of living gods which move (mithalekhim) continu-
ously with the glory of [the] wondrous chariots.
(12) And there is a still sound of blessing (qo! demamat berekh) in the tumult of their
movement (be-hamon lekhtam) and holy praise?’ as they return on their paths. When
they rise, they rise wondrously; and when they settle,
(13) they [stand] still. The sound of glad rejoicing falls silent (gol gilot rinnah hish-
qit), and there is a stillne[ss] of divine blessing (demama[t] berekh elohim) in all the
camps of the gods; [and] the sound of prais[es ...]
(14) [...] from between their divisions on [their] side[s ... and] all their mustered
troops rejoice, each o[n]e in [his] stat[ion.

This whole passage reads like an interpretation of Ezekiel, taking up many of his
key terms. The “expanse/ firmament (raqia ‘) of the Cherubs” (1. 8) is apparently
the “expanse” stretched over the heads of the creatures (hayyot) in Ezek. 1:22 ifs
who are identified with the cherubs in Ezek. 10; and the “image of the chariot
throne above the expanse” (ibid.) no doubt recalls the “shape (demut) of a
throne” above the expanse above the heads of the hayyot (Ezek. 1:26). Likewise,

4 4Q405 20 ii-21-22, 1. 5. Cf. Ezek. 1:9, 12, 17 (for the movement of the hayyot) and
Ezek. 1:7, 23 (for their straight legs).
% Tbid., 1. 7-14.
% Lit. “purely salted”; the phrase seems to be derived from Ex. 30:35, where the incense
for the Sanctuary is described as “salted (probably meaning refined), pure, and holy.” Lev. 2:13
mentions the “salt of the covenant of your God” (melah berit elohekha), and Num. 18:19
calls the covenant between God and his priests an “everlasting covenant of salt” (berit melah
‘olam).
Al ne Newsom’s emendation of hallel godesh instead of hallelu qodesh (“they praise
[with] holiness” or “they praise the holy one’).
138 : Chapter 4

the constantly moving wheels (ofannim) originate in Ezekiel’s wheels, which

move alongside each of the four creatures (Ezek. 1:15); the shift from ofannim
(1. 9) to galgalim (1. 10) goes back to the identification of both in Ezek. 10:2 and
6. The angels going out from between the wheels (1. 9f.) would seem to refer
to Ezek. 1:20, where it is said that the “spirit (ruah) of the creature(s) was in
the wheels” (note that the angels are explicitly called “spirits” in 1. 10). So the
angels not only prostrate before God and praise him (1. 7) together with the “ex-
panse/ firmament of light” (1. 9), they constantly move in and out of the wheels of
God’s throne. What is most striking, however, and quite unlike Ezekiel’s vision:
these angelic spirits are described in a way that in Ezek. 1:27 is reserved for the
human-like figure seated on the throne, that is, for God himself. Whereas Ezek-
iel sees the “appearance of a human being” (God), who from his loins upward
looks like hashmal surrounded with fire and from his loins downward looks like
fire surrounded by radiance (nogah), the song assigns precisely these terms — the
appearance of fire like hashmal and a radiant substance (ma ‘aseh nogah) — to
the angelic spirits.°* It is now the angels who appear as a miraculous fiery sub-
stance — and the description of this substance is further developed in terms of
iridescent colors (1. 11) — no longer God. In other words, what Ezekiel encoun-
ters as a vision of God has been transferred to the angels in Song XII. The angels
move to center-stage; God’s physical appearance recedes into the background
and is hardly mentioned at all. That which remains important is only his praise,
not the vision of his shape.
The praise of God as described in the song bears also the distinct traits of
Ezekiel’s language. In Ezek. 1:24f. the seer hears the sound of the creatures’
wings as they move — obviously a very noisy sound, as it is specified as the
“sound of the deep sea,” a sound “like the voice of the Almighty,” and “a sound
of tumult like the sound of an army”; but when they stand still and let their wings
drop, the sound produced by their wings obviously ceases. The reason for this is
clear: only when their noisy sound (= praise) stops can another, still faint “sound
from above the expanse” be heard, the sound that announces the voice of God
speaking to the seer (Ez. 1:25, 28). In Song XII, the cherubs likewise generate a
sound of praise when they lift up their wings and move (1. 7f., 12 f.). However,
the sound they produce is paradoxically termed a “sound of divine stillness”
(qol demamat elohim)”’ or a “still sound of blessing” (gol demamat berekh).!©
This phrase, which seems to be derived from 1 Kings 19:12 (the voice of God
that Elijah hears is a gol demamah daqah, “a still faint sound”), contrasts with
the noisy sound in Ezek. 1:24 and 3:12 f., where the blessing of the creatures at
their departure is explicitly described as “a great roaring noise” brought about

; *8 Only the “streams of fire” are not mentioned in Ezekiel, but they are merely an embel-
lishment of the “fire” that is prominent enough in Ezekiel.
4Q405 20 ii-21—-22, 1.7f.
100 Tbid., 1. 12; cf. also 1. 13: “a stillness of divine blessing” (demamat berekh elohim).
 Qumran 139

by their wings and their wheels. Hence, although the lifting up of the creatures’
wings produces a “tumult of jubilation,” it is nevertheless a “sound of divine
stillness” (1. 8); accordingly, the “‘still sound of blessing” emerges “‘in the tumult
of their movement” (1. 12). What can be meant by this paradox of the creatures’
noisy-still sound, which stands in such palpable contradiction to Ezekiel? It
seems that the author of Song XII is proposing another new interpretation of
Ezek. 1: not only is there no vision of God in his description of the service in
the celestial Temple, there is also no divine voice heard in response to the an-
gelic praise (let alone a seer being addressed). Whereas in Ezekiel, the creatures
fall silent to allow God’s voice to be heard (and then begin their noisy praise
again after God has finished speaking to the prophet), in Song XII it is their own
sound of blessing that is “still.”!°! The creatures and all the other angels praise
God continuously, even with a “still sound of blessing,” but their God is neither
seen nor heard.
The second part of Song XII introduces another task of the angels. In a badly
preserved passage that is difficult to understand, it first addresses the angels as
the “gods of his whole offering” (e/ohei kelilo),! a phrase that foreshadows the
topic of the last song, the angelic high priests in charge of the celestial sacrifice.
But before this subject is developed in more detail, the song turns to the divine
mission of the angels:!%
(8) Whenever the gods of knowledge (e/ei da ‘at) enter by the portals of glory, and
whenever the holy angels (mal’akhei qodesh) go out to their dominion,
(9) the portals of entrance and the gates of exit make known the glory of the King,
blessing and praising all the spirits of
(10) God (ruhot elohim) at (their) going out and at (their) coming in by the ga[t]es
of holiness. There is none among them who omits a law (hog); and never against the
commands
(11) of the King (imrei melekh) do they set themselves. They do not run from the
way or tarry away from his territory. They are not too exalted for His missions (mish-
luhotaw);
(12) nor are [they] too lowly.

101 Only 1. 13 seems to imply that the creatures’ “stillness of divine blessing” is not a para-
doxical but a real stillness (because the “sound of glad rejoicing falls silent”), but 1. 14 con-
tinues with some praise of the “mustered troops,” apparently another group of angels. Hence,
as Newsom has observed (Qumran Cave 4, vol. 6, p. 354), “the silence of the creatures of the
chariot allows the praises of the angelic camps to be heard.” The silence of one group of angels
makes room for the praise of another group, but not for the voice of God.
102 49405 23 i, 1. 5. The meaning of kalil is unclear: the obvious rendering with “crown”
makes little sense here; Newsom (Qumran Cave 4, vol. 6, p. 358) suggests that we “construe
hence
kalil as the nominalised adjective, ‘whole, entire’, which is used as a synonym for ‘olah,”
be used
for “holocaust offering.” But instead of referring to the “whole-offering,” kali] may
“robe of the
elliptically for kelil tekhelet, as in Ex. 28:31 and 39:22, and may also allude to the
who wear
Ephod all of blue (= of pure blue).” The elohei kelilo would then be the gods/angels
the “all-blue” Ephod.
103 4Q405 23 i, 1. 1-14.
140 Chapter 4

The purpose of the angels’ mission is not directly communicated; the song again
focuses on their behavior: they go in and out of the heavenly sanctuary, and in
doing so they are always faithful to the mission entrusted to them by God. But
from what follows it becomes clear that the angels are sent down to God’s crea-
tures on earth, their human counterparts, in order to carry out his judgment:
“He will n[o]t show compassion in the dominion of the fury of his annihila[ting
wra]th; (but) he will not judge those who are made repentant by his glorious
anger.”!°4 This refers back to Song I, where it is said of the angels that they “ap-
pease his will for all who repent of sin” (1. 16) — the only other passage in the
songs that addresses the question of repentance (and hence of human beings).
The angels are portrayed in their traditional role as God’s messengers and as
mediators between him and human beings on earth.!%
From what remains of the badly damaged Song XIII it can be inferred that
this last song of the cycle deals with the celestial sacrifices and the angelic
priests. It mentions the “sacrifices of the holy ones” (zivhei gedoshim), the
“odor of their offerings” (reah minhotam), and the “odor of their libations” (reah
niskhehem)! — terms that are taken from the animal sacrifices in the Hebrew
Bible: zevah is the technical term for animal sacrifices, reah minhotam alludes
to the reah nihoah (“soothing odor” of Gen. 8:21, for example), and nesekh
(“libation’”’) usually accompanied the whole burnt offering (holocaust offering).
Unfortunately, the precise circumstances under which these sacrifices were per-
formed are not preserved, but there can be no doubt that they are offered by the
angels. In another part of the song (preserved in another fragment),!°’ the angelic
priests with their priestly/high priestly garments are described as follows: they
wear “ephods”!°8 and are clothed in garments of “mingled colors (rugmah), like
woven work (ma ‘aseh oreg), engraved with figures of splendor.”!°° The Ephod
is one of the robes of Aaron and his sons (Ex. 28:4 ff.) and the “woven work” in
the Hebrew Bible refers to the “robe for the Ephod” (Ex. 28:32; 39:22) and the
“tunics of fine linen” (Ex. 39:27), also worn by Aaron and his sons.!!° No doubt,
therefore, that the angels who offer the celestials sacrifices are modeled on the
priests (or more precisely on the high priests) in the earthly sanctuary.!!!

ie bidenlale:
'°° The supposition entertained by Davila (Liturgical Works, p. 157) that the text deals with
angelic repentance is mistaken and ignores the context (I. 10f.).
'6 11Q17 ix, L. 4f. (edition and translation in Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea
Scrolls, vol. 2; p. 1219; see also the translation in Davila, Liturgical Works, p. 158).
'°7 4Q405 23 ii (Newsom, pp. 361 ff.).
Oe eIbide INS
Mom bid ed at
'10 Tn the Bible they are blue, whereas the angelic garments are multicolored.
"Il J fail to see how the reference to Ezek. 1:28 in 4Q405 23 ii, 1. 9, proves that the
commu-
nity’s high priest in Song XIII is identified with the Glory of God in Ezekiel, as Fletcher-L
ouis
claims (All the Glory of Adam, pp. 374 ff., 392).
 Qumran 141

Moreover, and most strikingly, the “woven work” of the angelic garments is
repeated in 1. 10 and is paired there with the phrase memulah tohar: “And all
their designs are brightly blended (memulah tohar), an artistry like woven work
(ma‘aseh oreg).” The phrase memulah tohar (which literally means “purely
salted” and is another technical term related to the incense in the sanctuary and
the priestly covenant with God),''? together with the term rugmah (“mingled
colors”), was used, as we recall, in describing the angels who move in and out
of the wheels of the divine chariot.''? Hence, it seems highly likely that the very
same angels who serve the divine chariot (and are sent out as God’s messen-
gers) also hold office as the priests/high priests who offer the sacrifices in the
celestial Temple.
This, of course, goes far beyond Ezekiel and any other possible biblical Vor-
lage. But the Greek Testament of Levi mentions “propitiatory sacrifices” offered
by the archangels in the “uppermost heaven” in which the “Great Glory” dwells
(3:4-6);!'4 and the Babylonian Talmud, which provides us with the classical list
of the seven heavens, describes the fourth heaven (zevu/) as the one “in which
[the heavenly] Jerusalem and the Temple and the altar are built, and Michael,
the great Prince, stands and offers up thereon an offering, for it is said: ‘I have
now built for you a house of habitation (bet zevul), a place where you may dwell
forever’ (1 Kings 8:13).”!!> The biblical proof-text makes clear that the heavenly
Sanctuary corresponds to the earthly Temple, but the very fact that the “great
Prince” Michael (who is also Israel’s guardian angel)!"* officiates as the celestial
high priest may be taken as indicating a critical stance vis-a-vis the earthly wor-
ship!!’ — or at least as an attempt to transfer the sacrifice in the earthly Temple
(which no longer exists) to the celestial Sanctuary. The critique is obvious in the
parallel in Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit, where Michael, the “great Prince,” holds
office as high priest, “clothed with high-priestly garments,” and presents a “pure
offering of fire” (followed by the same biblical proof-text, 1 Kings 8:13).""®
We do not know the purpose of the celestial sacrifices offered by the angelic
priests/high priests, but within the context of the Qumran community, which
preserves and recites the songs, these sacrifices only make sense as substitutes

112 See above, n. 96.

113 -4Q405 22, 1. 10f. This has been noted by Newsom (Qumran Cave 4, vol. 6, p. 364), but
she confuses the description of the angels with the description of the Glory of God: it is not the
Glory of God that is described in 4Q405 22 but the appearance of the angels (as she remarks
correctly on p. 353). The point is that the text describes the angels very much along the lines
of God’s Glory itself in Ezekiel, and specifically that the angels serve almost as God’s substi-
tute (see above).
4 See above, p. 68.
5 b Hagigah 12b.
116= Cf. Dan. 10:13, 21; 12:1.
117 Not the sacrifice as such, but the way it was performed.
8= Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit, in Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 772; for an analysis of
the text and the parallels, see Schifer, “In Heaven as It Is in Hell,” pp. 233-274.
142 Chapter 4

for the sacrifices in the polluted earthly Temple. Although the Jerusalem Tem-
ple still exists, the sacrifices offered there are tainted with a blemish; the sole
true sacrifices are now carried out by the angelic priests in the celestial Tem-
ple.!!9 Like the sacrifices offered by Michael in b Hagigah and in Seder Rabbah
di-Bereshit, the angelic sacrifices in the songs are offered, therefore, on Israel’s
behalf, for the benefit of the people of Israel, or rather on behalf of those who
regard themselves as the true remnant of the people of Israel, the members of the
Qumran community. Hence it is somewhat rash to conclude that Songs VII'°
or XII serve as the dramatic peak or crescendo of the cycle, while Song XIII
functions as a kind of dénouement.!*! Whereas both Song VII and Song XII no
doubt form a climax of the cycle (for whatever reason), we should not neglect
Song XIII — which, after all, concludes the cycle — with its emphasis on the an-
gelic priests/high priests as offering the celestial sacrifice for the benefit of the
community on earth.!”
The question of the cycle’s structure and inner dynamic is closely connected
with the function it served within the Qumran community. In her first compre-
hensive edition of the Songs, Carol Newsom set the tone for what has since be-
come a remarkable and influential trend in Qumran scholarship and in the mod-
ern attempt to establish a historical context for the early mystical system known
as Merkavahh mysticism.!*? The purpose of the cycle, she argues,

19 T am aware, as both Martha Himmelfarb and Philip Alexander remind me, that the idea
of a celestial Temple and a celestial cult does not automatically imply a critique of the earthly
Temple and the earthly cult. But the fact remains that, for the Qumran community, the earthly
cult is polluted. I therefore don’t think that the celestial cult is just a bloodless and hence spir-
itualized form of the (ongoing) bloody earthly cult; rather, it substitutes the (forever) blemished
earthly sacrifice with the pure celestial sacrifice.
'20 This has been argued by Newsom, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, pp. 13-17.
'*1 As Boustan (Abusch) summarizes the view presented by Morray-Jones, “The Temple
Within,” pp. 417-420. Morray-Jones does argue there (p. 417) for Song VII as the “preliminary
crescendo” and Song XII as the “true climax of the liturgical circle as a whole,” but I cannot find
his assessment of Song XIII as the dénouement. He simply neglects Song XIII.
'? In fact, Devorah Dimant has suggested that the cycle reaches its climax in Song XIII;
cf. her “The Apocalyptic Interpretation of Ezekiel at Qumran,” in Ithamar Gruenwald, Shaul
Shaked, and Guy Stroumsa, eds., Messiah and Christos: Studies in the Jewish Origins of Chris-
tianity Presented to David Flusser on the Occasion of His Seventy-Fifth Birthday (Tubingen:
J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1992), p. 41, n. 40.
'3 The culmination of this tendency can be found in Elior, The Three Temples, pp. 232 ff.;
Alexander, The Mystical Texts; but see already Lawrence H. Schiffman, “Merkavah Speculation
at Qumran: The 4QSerekh ‘Olat ha-Shabbat,” in Jehuda Reinharz and Daniel M. Swetschinski,
eds., with the collaboration of Kalman P. Bland, Mystics, Philosophers, and Politicians: Essays
in Jewish Intellectual History in Honor of Alexander Altmann (Durham, NC: Duke University
Press, 1982), pp. 15-47; Joseph M. Baumgarten, “The Qumran Sabbath Shirot and Rabbinic
Merkabah Traditions,” RdQ 13 (1988), pp. 199-213; James R. Davila, “The Dead Sea Scrolls
and Merkavah Mysticism,” in Timothy H. Lim, ed., The Dead Sea Scrolls in Their Historical
Context (Edinburgh: T.&T. Clark, 2000), pp. 249-264. For a thorough critique of Elior,
see
Himmelfarb, “Merkavah Mysticism since Scholem.”
 Qumran 143

is better described as the praxis of something like a communal mysticism. During the
course of this thirteen week cycle, the community which recites the compositions is led
through a lengthy preparation. The mysteries of the angelic priesthood are recounted,
a hypnotic celebration of the sabbatical number seven produces an anticipatory cli-
max at the center of the work,'** and the community is then gradually led through the
spiritually animate heavenly temple until the worshippers experience the holiness of
the ertenel and of the Sabbath sacrifice as it is conducted by the high priests of the
angels.”

Here we have the key terms that present the liturgy of the songs as the original
source of Merkavah mysticism and that would determine much of the subse-
quent discussion: we are dealing here with mysticism, more concretely with the
mysticism of a community (not just of an individual), which puts itself in a hyp-
~ notic state and, being led through the celestial Temple, experiences the divine
throne.'*° The whole purpose of this “communal mysticism” is experiencing the
“holiness” of the Merkavah and of the Sabbath sacrifice. The most elaborate
development of this approach has been offered by Christopher Morray-Jones
in his article “The Temple Within,” in which he quotes Newsom — precisely the
passage quoted above — and then spins out her theory in the following manner
(ignoring, however, her inclusion of the Sabbath sacrifice in the “experience”
of the mystic):
The songs, then, enabled the community to gain access to the heavenly temple and to
join with the angelic hierarchy in its worship before the throne. By performing the li-
turgical cycle, the worshippers undertake a “ritual journey,” which involves an “ascent”
through the seven debirim (songs 1—7), followed by a detailed tour of the celestial tem-
ple, moving inwards towards the center, where the Glory manifests upon the throne. It
may also be admissible to think of this as a process of “ritual construction.” The per-
formance of this liturgical cycle, presumably combined with intensive visualisation of
the images described, will have had the effect of “building” the celestial temple in the
personal and collective imagination of the participants. The imperative formulae of the
early hymns indicates (sic) that they are calling on the angels to participate with them
in this ritual “temple-building” project. The process of construction culminates in song
11, performed at or immediately before the renewal of the community’s covenant at the
feast of Shabu ‘ot. On the two sabbaths following this act of rededication, in songs 12
and 13, the divine Glory is called upon to indwell the temple that has been constructed
by the now reconsecrated community, and to receive the sacrifices offered there. As
observed above, it is the descent of the Divine Glory in the Holy of Holies, described
in song 12, that forms the true climax of the cycle. The sacred structure within which
this manifestation occurs has been constructed by means of this extended ritual perfor-

124 That is, Song VII.

125 Newsom, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, p. 19 (my emphasis); on p. 59 she speaks of a
“quasi-mystical liturgy.”
126 Cf. the useful summary of the research literature by Elisabeth Hamacher, “Die Sab-
batopferlieder im Streit um Ursprung und Anfange der jiidischen Mystik,” JSJ 27 (1996),
pp. 119-154 (pp. 123-125); see also Boustan, “Sevenfold Hymns,” p. 221; idem, “Angels in
the Architecture,” pp. 195 f.
144 Chapter 4

mance. The worship of the holy community and its celestial, angelic counterpart is, SO
to speak, the substance of which the temple is composed.”!27

This is a remarkable interpretation of the cycle, reflecting a certain under-

standing of Merkavah mysticism that is taken for granted. Like the yored
merkavah — the Merkavah mystic who “descends” through the seven heavens or
palaces (hekhalot) to the divine throne (merkavah) — the Qumran sectarians on
earth ascend through the seven Holy of Holies (devirim) to God’s Glory seated
on his throne. This heavenly journey is an inward journey, occurring solely in the
imagination of the worshippers. Moreover, in undertaking their imagined ascent,
the sectarians construct the celestial temple as a “spiritual temple” within their
own inner self. The ascent culminates in a kind of “adjuration” (a term typical of
the Hekhalot literature but not used here by Morray-Jones) of the divine Glory,
which descends to its imagined throne in the imagined celestial Holy of Holies.
This retelling of the cycle in light of later Merkavah mysticism is highly prob-
lematic.!*° First, the angels play a conspicuously minor role, with the sectarians
acting as the central figures; they take the initiative and ask the angels to partici-
pate in their “temple-building project.” True, it is the community on earth that
calls on the angels in the songs, but to praise God and not to build a spiritual
Temple! And this request, together with the likely supposition that the members
of the community recite the songs in their service, is the only link that connects
the earthly community with the angels in heaven. That the sectarians call upon
the angels to participate “with them” in their ritual (whatever this might entail),
as Morray-Jones maintains, is simply not borne out by the text. The angels per-
form a ritual, not the humans, and the humans participate in this celestial ritual
by reading it during their worship. Morray-Jones improperly confuses the tex-
tual level (the heavenly ritual) and the performative level (the enacting of the
text in the worship of the sectarians). As we have seen, humans — let alone the
sectarians — are almost nonexistent in the songs; there are no traces of the idea
of a liturgical communion of angels and humans that is so dominant in the un-
questionably Qumranic texts discussed above. In assigning a major role to the
humans in this dramatic performance, Morray-Jones turns the intention of the
songs upside down.
Second, there is nothing in the songs to suggest that they are meant to evoke
the idea of a heavenly journey or an ascent of the community through the seven
“devirim’ to the throne of God. The first seven songs do not depict seven succes-
sive “hekhalot,” nor do Songs VII—XI describe a “detailed tour of the celestial
temple” that reaches its climax in the vision of the Merkavah in Song XII. As

'°7 Morray-Jones, “The Temple Within,” p. 420.

'8 Johann Maier and others have warned against establishing an immediate dependence
between the songs and the Hekhalot corpus; cf. Johann Maier, “Zu Kult und Liturgie
der Qum-
rangemeinde,” p. 572; Carol A. Newsom, “Merkabah Exegesis in the Qumran
Sabbath Shirot,”
JJS 38 (1987), p. 29; Hamacher, “Die Sabbatopferlieder,” pp. 132 ff.
 Qumran 145

we have seen, Song XII is not at all concerned with the vision of the Merkavah
but with the angels attending the Merkavah. Nor is Song XII concerned with the
vision of God: the Glory of God and its manifestation plays only a minor role in
the songs (if it plays a role at all). In this regard the songs fall far behind Ezek-
iel’s and Enoch’s visions; the angels — their praise, their appearance, and their
task — are now the heroes of our author’s imagination. God recedes into the back-
ground, or, to put it differently, he is overshadowed by his angels.!?°
Moreover, an interpretation that is obsessed with the Qumran community’s
heavenly journey and focused on the vision of the Merkavah as the climax of
the cycle completely ignores the function of the celestial sacrifice within the
songs — which is no accident, because the sacrifice performed by the angels in
_ heaven plays no role at all in the Hekhalot literature (except for the few pas-
sages in Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit mentioned above, which can hardly lay claim
to belonging to the core of Merkavah mysticism). This is further proof that the
Hekhalot literature should not be used as a tool to trim anything and everything
in the songs in accordance with its ideal. Rather than downplay or completely
ignore the status of the celestial sacrifice because of its insignificance in the
Hekhalot literature, we must acknowledge that it forms the climax of the cycle,
and hence conclude that the Hekhalot literature cannot serve as the appropriate
standard for our interpretation of the songs.!*° The celestial worship as described
in the songs begins with the abundant praise of the angels and culminates in the
sacrifice performed by the angelic high priests. This is what the community on
earth urgently calls upon the angels to do: to praise God and offer the celestial
sacrifice. Whereas the members of the community can participate, to some de-
gree, in the angelic praise by reciting the songs in their worship, they can no
longer offer the expiatory sacrifice. The sacrifice on earth has become corrupt,
and it is only the angels in heaven who are still able to perform this ritual so cru-
cial to the existence and well-being of the earthly community (until it becomes

129 Philip Alexander, too, believes that the songs recount the ascent of the mystic through the
various heavens and that the alleged description of the Merkavah in Song XII forms the climax
of the cycle. Therefore, he finds it puzzling that the cycle does not conclude with Song XII but
adds Song XIII. Hence he entertains the possibility that Song XIII does not serve as a coda to
the cycle but is in fact its climax. Although he correctly points out that the song deals with the
heavenly offerings and the celestial high priests, he is nevertheless convinced that Song XIII
“could signify the transformation of the mystic: he dons the celestial priestly robes, and serves
in the temple, and it is this enrobement that marks the climax of the experience” (The Mystical
Texts, p. 50). I find it difficult to locate “the mystic” in Song XIII, even if we limit this mystical
experience to the “priestly prayer-leader” of the congregation.
130 Davila’s commentary in his Liturgical Works is a good example of this misguided ten-
dency in recent scholarship. He explains the songs through the treasure trove of Hekhalot litera-
ture, as if the latter were a document contemporary with the songs. There can be no doubt that
the Hekhalot literature continues certain ideas that have their origin in the songs (and that later
manifestations of an idea can sometimes help us understand its earlier form), but to project the
Hekhalot literature back into the songs means to turn the evidence on its head.
146 Chapter 4

fully united with the angels). In this sense the sacrifice in heaven has replaced
the sacrifice on earth, since there is no hope for the restitution of the proper sac-
rifice in the Jerusalem Temple. Or, to put it differently: as far as the sacrifice
is concerned, the angels in heaven have replaced the humans on earth; there is
not much left in the songs of the communion of angels and humans. Hence the
urgency and gravity with which the sectarians call upon the angels to perform
their duty.

The Self-Glorification Hymn

The last Qumranic text to be discussed is a hymn known as the Self-Glorifica-

tion Hymn, composed by an unknown author. It was originally thought to be
part of the War Scroll,'*! has since been identified as belonging to the Hodayot
(because one fragment of the Hodayot collection was recognized as a witness to
the hymn),!°? and is now treated as an independent composition, of which two
recensions have survived.!*3 So far, the fragments 4Q471> (fragments 1—2),'*4
4Q491¢ (fragments 1—2),!*5 4Q427 (fragment 7, col. I and fragment 12),!3° and
1QH?, col. XXVI, have been classified as part of the Self-Glorification Hymn
and dated to the late Hasmonean and (early) Herodian periods.!*’ The text of the
hymn can be divided in two parts: one in which the author boasts of his being
lifted up among the angels, and a second part in which he calls on the angels
(and humans?) to praise God. As to the first part, I follow Eshel’s publication
of 4Q491° (fragment 1), but include the parallel fragments where these add im-
portant aspects:!38
(3) He established his truth of old, and the secrets of his devising (razei ‘ormato)
throughout all [generations
(4) [ ] and the council of the humble (‘atzat evyonim) for an everlasting congrega-
tion.
(5) [for]ever a mighty throne (kisse ‘oz) in the congregation of the gods (elim). None
of the ancient kings shall sit in it, and their nobles shall not [

‘s
aM: Baillet, Qumran Grotte 4.3 (40482-40520), DID 7 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982),
pp. 0.
'32 Martin G. Abegg, “4Q471: A Case of Mistaken Identity?” in J.C. Reeves and J. Kampen,
eds., Pursuing the Text: Studies in Honor of B. Z. Wacholder on the Occasion of His Seventieth
Birthday (Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994), pp. 137f.
'S Esther Eshel, “4Q471B: A Self-Glorification Hymn,” RdQ 17/65-68 (1996), pp. 189 ff.
'34 Also designated 4QME.
'5 Also known as 4Q491, fragment 11, col. I, and as 4QM?.
'36 Also known as 4QH®. ;
'37 See Eshel, “4Q471B,” p. 177.
'38 Tbid., pp. 184f.
 Qumran 147

(6) [ ] shall not be like my glory (kevodi), and none shall be exalted save me, nor
shall come against me. For I have taken my seat in a/the!*? [throne] in the heavens (ki
ani yashavti be ( ... )be-sShamayim) and none
(7) [ ] I shall be reckoned with the gods (ani ‘im elim ethashev), and my dwelling
place is in the holy congregation (u-mekhoni be- ‘adat qodesh). | do not desire as would
a man of flesh [ ] everything precious to me is in the glory of
(8) [the gods in the] holy [dwelli]ng place (bi-me ‘on ha-qodesh). Who has been de-
spised on my account? And who can be compared with me in my glory (u-mi bi-khvodi
yiddameh li)? Who [
(9) [ ] who be[ars all] griefs as I do? And who [sufflers evil like me? [ ] and (any)
teaching (horayah) will not be equal to [my teaching]
(10) [ ] Who will stop me from speaking and who shall measure the flow of my
speech, and who shall be my equal, and be like (me) in my judgment?
(11) [ ] For I shall be reckoned with the gods (e/im), and my glory (kevodi) with [that
of] the King’s sons (benei ha-melekh).

The author of this hymn extols himself as someone who has taken his seat — a
“mighty throne” (I. 5) — among the angels. The angels are again called elim
(“gods”) as in the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice discussed above; the location of
the angels as well as of this particular throne is no doubt in heaven (I. 6, 8). The
elevated status of the speaker is further emphasized by the fact that he boasts of
being superior to the “ancient kings” and “their nobles”: none of them shall be
worthy of sitting on this throne among the angels of heaven. With the “ancient
kings” he is certainly alluding to the kings of Israel and Judah, more precisely to
the dynasty of the house of David. Since by the time this hymn was composed
the Davidic dynasty had acquired messianic qualities,'*° the author is not only
criticizing the traditional image of those kings from the house of David as the
natural leaders of the Jewish people; he also, at least implicitly, disregards any
expectation of the restoration of the Davidic dynasty with its messianic impli-
cations. Our author’s glory (kavod) and exaltation are unique, most notably in
comparison with the ancient kings, and for precisely this reason it is not unlikely
that he claims for himself messianic qualities.
Two of the parallel fragments of our hymn carry the superior angelic status
of the author even further. There the speaker explicitly asks, “Who is like me
among the angels?” (mi kamoni ba-’elim),'*' a rhetorical question by which
he apparently means, Who else is like me among the angels? Is there anybody
else as elevated as me among the angels? (And the answer, of course, is no.)
But the question is ambiguous because it obviously imitates the biblical phrase
(Ex. 15:11) “Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods/angels?” (mi kamokha

139 | don’t see any basis for Eshel’s “his” in the Hebrew text.
140 See the summary in Peter Schifer, “Diversity and Interaction: Messiahs in Early Juda-
ism,” in: Peter Schafer and Mark R. Cohen, eds., Toward the Millennium: Messianic Expecta-
tions from the Bible to Waco (Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 15-35.
141 4Q471, fragments 1-2, 1. 5; 4Q427 (4QH?), fragment 7, col. I, |. 8.
148 Chapter 4

ba-’elim YHWH),'” and this question definitely means, Is there anybody among
the gods/angels who is like you, God, who can be compared with you? (Again
the answer is no.) One could, therefore, go a step further and argue that our au-
thor is playing with this double meaning: not only is there no one as elevated
as he is among the angels, but in his elevated status he is even superior to the
angels and (almost) becomes God’s equal. All that can be said, however, is that
he plays with this double meaning — and hence with theological fire. Soon after
his bold question he steps back and repositions himself “modestly” among the
angels: “I am the friend of the King (yedid ha-melekh), a companion of the ho[ly
ones] (rea‘ la-gedoshim).”'* That he is “reckoned with the gods/angels” and
with the “sons of the King” — just one among many, and not necessarily superior
to any — is the recurrent leitmotif of the hymn.'“4
There are several other attributes that the speaker uses to characterize himself:
he is an unequalled teacher,
'*°whose speech cannot be interrupted,“ and he is a
judge.'*” These are common enough attributes, fitting to his elevated status. But
what about him bearing “all grievances” (kol tza‘arim) and suffering “evil” (ra ‘),
and what about the strange phrase mi /a-vuz nehshav bi, which Eshel translates as
“Who has been attributed to me, to be despised?”’!* or, “Who has been despised
on my account?”!*? Unfortunately, she does not explain in her commentary how
she understands the phrase in the present context. Obviously, someone is seen
as despised because of our speaker, that is, because he belongs to him. Does this
mean that the speaker himself is despised? Probably. That the speaker bears all
grievances, suffers evil, and is despised is inappropriate to the angelic status of
which he himself boasts, or rather, it is inappropriate to the image commonly as-
sociated with such a status. But the attributes evoked here are reminiscent of the
Suffering Servant in Isaiah, particularly Isa. 53:3 f., where the Suffering Serv-
ant is described as “despised” (nivzeh), a “man of suffering” and “bearing our
sickness.” Hence, it seems that the author has modeled himself along the lines
of Isa. 53: he is the despised Suffering Servant who bears all (our) grieves and
suffers evil, but is nevertheless (or because of this?) elevated among the angels
and seated on a throne that even the Israelite kings cannot claim for themselves.

“2 As has been correctly observed by Eshel, “4Q471B,” p. 180.

4 4Q471°, fragments 1-2, 1. 6 £.; 4Q427 (4QH?), fragment 7, col. I, 1. 10.
“a oe fragment 1, 1. 7, 11; 4Q471°, fragments 1-2, 1. 8; 4Q427 (4QH®), fragment 7,
col. I, 1. 1f.
45 4Q491°, fragment 1, 1. 9; 4Q471, fragments 1-2, 1. 3f.
Ke eae fragment 1, 1. 10; 4Q471°, fragments 1-2, 1. 5f.; 4Q427 (4QH®), fragment 7,
col. I, 1. 9.
eR ER fragment 1, 1. 10; 4Q471, fragments 1-2, 1. 6; 4Q427 (4QH?), fragment 7, col.
‘48 4Q471>, fragments 1-2, 1. 7; 4Q427 (4QH?), fragment 7, col. I, 1. 10¢.
‘9 4Q491°, fragment 1, 1. 8.
 Qumran 149

Although he is attacked by others (some envious opponents?), he has his follow-

ers and has taken his seat in heaven among the sons of the divine King.
In its second part the hymn moves, with no apparent caesura,!*° to the in-
vitation to praise God: “Sing, O beloved ones (yedidim), sing of the King of
[glory].”!>! The epithet “beloved ones” (yvedidim) would seem to indicate that
the addressees are the angels (note that the author called himself a yadid of the
King in the companionship of the holy ones), and the location where the praise
takes place would seem to be the heaven (“in the assembly of God”!? and “in
the holy dwelling”).'*? This is certainly correct, but only half the truth. On closer
inspection it becomes clear that not only are the angels being addressed but also
human beings, most likely the members of the Qumran community. Phrases like
“extol together (romemu yahad) among the eternal hosts”!*4 and “in the united
assembly” (be-yahad qahal)'** leave no doubt that the author now includes his
fellow sectarians in his hymn and that he is again taking up the technical lan-
guage of the communion of angels and humans in their joint praise of God. The
speaker, who is elevated among the angels, now calls upon his followers on earth
to join in with the praise initiated by him and his fellow angels. In other words,
what has been left out (or has receded into the background) in the Songs of the
Sabbath Sacrifice — the communion of angels and humans — returns forcefully
in the Self-Glorification Hymn.!*°
Who, then, is this speaker? To begin with, he is certainly a human being and
not an angel. '5’ This is indicated by the phrase, “I do not desire as would a man
of flesh,”!58which makes little sense in the mouth of an angel, as it is highly im-
probable that an angel should boast of being elevated among the angels. More
feasible is another suggestion that takes into account the resemblance between
the Hodayot and our text (and the possibility that our hymn was appended, at
a certain stage in its transmission, to the Hodayot).'*’ In his attempt to refute
Baillet’s identification of the speaker with the archangel Michael, Morton Smith
considered the Teacher of Righteousness a better candidate!” but in the end left

150 Only 4Q491°, fragment 1, leaves one line (1. 12) empty before starting the praise.
151 4Q427 (4QH), fragment 7, col. I, 1. 13; 1QH*, col. XXVI, 1. 9.
15240427 (4QH®), fragment 7, col. I, 1. 14; 1QH*, col. XXVI, 1. 10.
153. Tbid.
154 4Q427 (4QH?), fragment 7, col. I, 1. 15; 1QH*, col. XXVI, L. 11.
155 4Q427 (4QH®), fragment 7, col. I, 1. 18; 1QH*, col. XXVI, |. 14.
156 This is a phenomenological description only and not meant to impose a chronological
sequence on the texts.
157 As has been suggested by M. Baillet, who published the first fragment and identified the
speaker with the archangel Michael: Qumran Grotte 4.3 (40482-40520), pp. 29-35.
158 4Q491°, fragment 1, |. 7.
159 Eshel, “4Q471B,” pp. 191-194.
Schiff-
160 Morton Smith, “Ascent to the Heavens and Deification in 4QM*,” in Lawrence H.
Dead Sea Scrolls: The New York University Confer-
man, ed., Archaeology and History in the
(p. 187); idem,
ence in Memory of Yigael Yadin (Sheffield, UK: JSOT Press, 1990), pp. 181-188
150 Chapter 4

the question open and concluded, “Nevertheless, it is probably better to suppose

that the Dead Sea group or groups produced more than one preposterous poet
with an exaggerated notion of his own sanctity.”!°! The emphasis placed on the
speaker’s teaching in the Self-Glorification Hymn is indeed striking,'° and it
is most likely, therefore, that the author was a leading figure of the community.
There are, however, problems with such a straightforward identification of our
speaker with the Teacher of Righteousness:'® the bold tone of the hymn and its
speaker’s claim to be the only one to have been seated on the throne in heaven
among the angels goes far beyond what the author of the Hodayot asserts for
himself. Moreover, the hymn displays some messianic characteristics that are
completely lacking in the Hodayot: in its second part, the actual praise, it alludes
to “tents of salvation” (oholei yeshu ‘ah)'™ and, in one fragment, even mentions
the establishment of the “horn of his Mess[iah]” (geren mesh[iho]).'!©
Taking the messianic implications seriously, it makes sense to argue that the
speaker of the Self-Glorification Hymn is an eschatological figure,'®* or more
precisely, some kind of Teacher of Righteousness redivivus: the founder of the
sect who was imagined by his later followers as elevated into heaven and ex-
pected to return at the end of time as the priestly Messiah in order to lead the
members of the community in the final battle. In his “angelified” status he would
have anticipated what the earthly community fantasized regarding the commun-
ion with the angels, namely, the physical transformation into divine beings, the
elim, who surround God and praise him forever.'®’ This is not a “deification,” as

“Two Ascended to Heaven: Jesus and the Author of 4Q491,” in James H. Charlesworth, ed.,
Jesus and the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Doubleday, 1992), p. 297.
‘6! Smith, “Two Ascended to Heaven,” p. 298. Similarly, John J. Collins (“A Throne in the
Heavens: Apotheosis in Pre-Christian Judaism,” in John J. Collins and Michael Fishbane, eds.,
Death, Ecstasy, and Other Worldly Journeys [Albany: State University of New York Press,
1995], p. 55) proposes that “the author of this hymn may have been, not the Teacher, but a
teacher in the late first century B.C. E.”
' 4Q491°, fragment 1, 1. 9f.; 4Q471>, fragments 1-2, 1. 3 f.;4Q427 (4QH!), fragment 7,
cole ig:
'63 Emphasized also by Smith, “Two Ascended to Heaven,” p. 298; Collins, “A Throne in
the Heavens,” p. 55 (Collins’s argument, following Smith, about the alleged Edomite = Herod
is based on a misreading of the text; see Eshel, “4Q471B,” p. 195, n. 68).
164 4Q427 (4QH®), fragment 7, col. I, 1. 14.
165 4Q491°, fragment 1, 1. 15.
' This has been suggested already by Eshel, “4Q471B,” p. 202, following Collins, The
Scepter and the Star, p. 148. Rejecting any messianic connection, Martin G. Abegg nevertheless
entertains the possibility that it was not the historical Teacher of Righteousness who made the
claim to have ascended to heaven and taken his place among the angels, but rather that such a
claim was made “on behalf of the Teacher of Righteousness” by the author(s) of the hymn; see
Martin G. Abegg, “Who Ascended to Heaven? 4Q491, 4Q427, and the Teacher of Righteous-
ness,” in C.A. Evans and P. W. Flint, eds., Eschatology, Messianism, and the Dead Sea
Scrolls
(Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1997), p. 72.
'87 Alexander (The Mystical Texts, pp. 90f.) wants to read the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice
and the Self-Glorification Hymn together as the expression of one and the same mystical
experi-
 Qumran 151

some scholars have it,'®* and one need not resort to Jesus!® or Paul!” to assert
the importance of such a concept. Suffice it to note that it is very much along the
lines of ascent apocalypses like the Aramaic Levi document/Testament of Levi
or 2 Enoch with the physical transformation of their heroes into angels. Although
the speaker of the Self-Glorification Hymn comes very close to God, closer
probably than in any of the texts we have discussed so far, the distance between
him and God is kept. Moreover, there is nothing in the hymn that seems to be
interested in a vision of God, let alone in a description of his appearance.

Summary

The Qumran community conceives itself as a community of priests that repre-

sents the true and spiritual Temple, since the physical Temple in Jerusalem is
considered to be polluted and malfunctioning. In their capacity as priests who
live in absolute cultic purity, the members of the community regard themselves
as united with the angels. This concept of the communion of humans and angels
is a major theme in the writings of a community that should not, however, be
lumped together but takes on different forms in the various writings associated
with the sect:
In the War Scroll, which visualizes the eschatological battle between the
forces of light and darkness, humans and angels are united in their decisive holy
war on earth. The angels descend to earth in order to be present in the military
camp of the holy warriors and to lead them to the final victory. A different view
is expressed in the concept of the liturgical communion with the angels — another
major strand in the Qumran literature and represented primarily by the Hodayot.
There, the Qumran sectarians, when performing their privileged task of praising
God, join in with the praise of the angels in heaven. Although the possibility can-
not be excluded that they envisage the angels being present among them during
their worship, it is more likely that they regard themselves as standing together
with the angels and intermingling with them in heaven. As such, they are like
the angels or even become angels. Unlike the ascent apocalypses, however, the

even entertains
ence — not just of the chosen hero but of the Qumran community as a whole. He
imagine the Self-Glorif ication functioning as a sort of introit to the
the possibility: “One could
as coming
Sabbath Songs, to establish the Maskil’s credentials to lead the liturgy, or possibly
13, if that described his investiture as a celestial high priest” (ibid., p. 91, n. 8).
after Song
Heavens,” p. 55.
168 Smith, “Two Ascended to Heaven,” p. 298; Collins, “A Throne in the
of the hymn
169 Smith, ibid., p. 299; Collins, ibid. Israel Knohl wants to identify the speaker who
r of Jesus,
not just with a Qumranic Messiah but more concretely with the direct forerunne
before Jesus: The
influenced Jesus and Christian messianism; see Israel Knohl, The Messiah
University of California
Suffering Servant of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Berkeley and Los Angeles:
Press, 2000), pp. 42 ff.
170 Abegg, “Who Ascended to Heaven?” p. 73.
152 Chapter 4

Qumran literature is not concerned with the process of the physical transforma-
tion from human beings into angels.
The unknown author of the Self-Glorification Hymn, probably the Teacher of
Righteousness redivivus, imagines himself to be elevated among the angels in
heaven. He boasts of being seated on a celestial throne and superior to the Isra-
elite kings, not to mention ordinary mortals. But the actual praise communicated
in the hymn includes the human sectarians on earth in the angelic praise and
uses again the technical language of the communion of angels and humans. In
certain respects the speaker of the hymn represents the members of the earthly
community in heaven and shares with them his elevated status during their joint
worship.
In contrast to both the Hodayot and the Self-Glorification Hymn, in the Songs
of the Sabbath Sacrifice, humans, including the human members of the Qumran
sect, recede into the background. It is only the angels who are addressed in the
songs; humans play an inferior role and are not placed on the same level with the
angels. The angels are the priests/high priests in the celestial Temple and offer
the sacrifice in heaven because the sacrifice on earth has become polluted. The
only likely connection between angels and humans in the Songs of the Sabbath
Sacrifice is the (not unlikely) supposition that the Qumran sectarians, through
the performative act of reading the songs during their worship, unite with the
angels in heaven. Yet we should not forget that the songs do not record the con-
tents of the angels’ actual praises but rather invite them to perform their litur-
gical and sacrificial activities. It may well be that the gist of the songs consists
of this intense and almost desperate request directed at the angels to do what is
required of them.
In all Qumranic texts there is no emphasis whatsoever on the vision of God
and a description of his appearance. To be sure, the presence of the angels in
the military camp in the War Scroll signals the presence of God, but the latter is
conspicuously muted, as if God has hidden himself behind his angels. The same
is true for the Hodayot, where the liturgical communion of angels and humans
means that the humans share the angels’ knowledge of God; the visual aspect
is completely neglected. Similarly, in the Self-Glorification Hymn, the speaker
is obsessed with his communion with the angels and makes no attempt to ap-
proach God. This dearth of any interest in a vision of God is most striking in the
Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice. There, the angels are the center of attraction and
seem to have replaced God. What Ezekiel saw of God’s shape, albeit vaguely
and veiled, is now transferred to the angels; and the divine voice he heard is re-
placed by the angels’ silence.
It is plainly misguided to attempt to discover in the Songs of the Sabbath Sac-
rifice the earliest version of the heavenly journey as described in the Hekhalot
literature, and therefore the hidden source of what is later called Merkavah
mysticism. Neither can the Songs be read as an account of an ascent through
the
 Qumran 153

seven heavens, nor do they culminate in a vision of God on his throne of glory.
The songs’ focus on the sacrifice offered by the angels in the celestial Temple
(as a substitute for the sacrifice in the Jerusalem Temple) is very different from
the message conveyed by the Hekhalot texts. Whereas the possibility cannot be
ruled out that some of the ideas and motifs expressed in the songs are taken up in
the Hekhalot literature, it is pointless to try and establish a literary and historical
connection between the songs and Hekhalot literature,!’! and equally pointless
to define “mysticism” as the common denominator between the “movements”
behind both groups of texts. In particular, it is highly problematic to establish
the priests as the link between the allegedly Qumranic and the Merkavah mysti-
cal strands of Jewish mysticism. Indeed, the texts from Qumran are deeply im-
bued with priestly ideology, starkly contrasting with the claims of the reigning
priests in the Jerusalem Temple, but it would be more than bold to argue that
the authors of the Hekhalot literature are the direct heirs of the Qumran priestly
community.
There is nothing in the Qumranic texts that would allow the reader to read into
them the notion of unio mystica, or mystical union with God, a category so cher-
ished by historians of religion (especially those with a Christian background).
Some of the texts suggest the idea of a unio angelica, or “angelification” of hu-
mans, similar to what we encounter in the ascent apocalypses. Others, probably
the majority, advocate a unio liturgica, or liturgical (comm)union with the angels
in heaven, similar to what occurs in the Hekhalot literature. However, quite in
contrast to Merkavah mysticism, this is largely (with the sole exception of the
Self-Glorification Hymn) an experience accomplished by the earthly commu-
nity as a whole and not by an individual that acts as the emissary and mediator
of the community on earth.

171 A first survey of certain key-words and related concepts in the Qumranic and Hekhalot
c
literatures (such as shamayim and parokhet) yields the unequivocal result that no lexicographi
between the two corpora of text. See now the illumi-
and conceptual link can be established
le-sifrut
nating article by Noam Mizrachi, “Sh ’elat ha-ziqqah ben shirot ‘olat ha-shabbat
ha-hekhalot: hebetei lashon we-signon,” Megillot 7 (2008), pp. 263-298.
 Chapter 5

Philo
The Ascent of the Soul

With Philo of Alexandria (ca. 20 BCE—ca. 50 CE), the great Jewish philosopher of
late antiquity, we enter a completely different realm. Philo was born into one of
the noblest Jewish families in Egyptian Alexandria, but otherwise we know lit-
tle of his personal life. He must have exercised considerable political influence,
since in 40 cE he headed the delegation of the Jewish community of Alexandria
to the Roman emperor Gaius Caligula, a mission he described in his famous
Legatio ad Gaium. His brother Alexander Lysimachus was a high official (Ala-
barch) in the fiscal administration in Egypt, and his nephew Tiberius Julius Al-
exander made a career in the Roman military and civil service, as procurator of
Judaea and prefect of Egypt. Philo Judaeus, as he is also called, left behind a rich
and voluminous output in Greek — whether or not he knew Hebrew is a matter
of dispute — thus betraying his profound knowledge of and rigorous training in
classical Greek literature, philosophy, and rhetoric. He did not present, however,
a philosophical doctrine in any systematic way but developed his philosophical
ideas through extensive allegorical exegeses of the Bible, which he used in its
Greek translation.
As a philosopher, Philo was clearly no original thinker but was deeply imbued
with the ideas of Plato and later varieties of his philosophy; as such, he was a
congenial representative of the philosophical mainstream of his time, combining
Middle Platonism (that variety of Platonism somewhere between the Old Aca-
demy and Neoplatonism),' Middle Stoicism, and Neopythagoreanism, even giv-
ing us a foretaste of what later became known as Neoplatonism.? In his unique

' On Philo’s Middle Platonism, see, e.g., John Dillon, The Middle Platonists. A Study of
Platonism 80 B.C. to A.D. 220 (London: Duckworth, 1977 [rev. ed. with a new afterword,
1996, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, NY, pp. 139—183]); Robert M. Berchman, From Philo
to Origin: Middle Platonism in Transition (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1984), pp. 23-53; David
Winston, “Philo and the Contemplative Life,” in Arthur Green, ed., Jewish Spirituality, vol. 1:
From the Bible throughout the Middle Ages (New York: Crossroad, 1987), pp. 198-231; David
T. Runia, “Redrawing the Map of Early Middle Platonism: Some Comments on the Philonic
Evidence,” in André Caquot, Mireille Hadas-Lebel, and Jean Riaud, eds., Hellenica et Judaica:
Hommage a Valentin Nikiprowetzky (Leuven: Peeters, 1986), pp. 85-104.
' ? Maren R. Niehoff, who was kind enough to read the chapter on Philo, draws my
atten-
tion to her recent article, in which she argues that Philo may have played a more active
role in
 Philo 155

combination of philosophical speculation and biblical exegesis he has often

been portrayed as the “legatee of both Jewish and Greek culture,’ the media-
tor between “Athens” and “Jerusalem’* who concocted a grandiose synthesis of
two fundamentally opposed cultural traditions. Whatever the usefulness of such
stereotypes, we can be sure of one thing: “Jerusalem” rejected his synthesis.
There is virtually no trace of Philo in the vast corpus of rabbinic literature.> His
writings were completely forgotten in the subsequent Jewish tradition until the
second half of the sixteenth century, when Azariah de’ Rossi read them in a Latin
translation and utilized them in his Me’or ‘Einayim.® It was left to the Christian
variety of “Jerusalem” to rescue Philo from oblivion — to such an extent and with
such success that he was absorbed into Christianity and was regarded as one of
the Church Fathers.’ The latter might have been flattered by this company: they
were well informed about Philo’s philosophical ancestry, and the Latin Church
Father Jerome quotes a proverb, allegedly famous among the Greeks, that “either
Plato philonizes or Philo platonizes.’”®

Philo’s Concept of God

Philo’s God is absolutely transcendent: we know that God exists — in labeling

him, Philo uses the Platonic term fo on (“that which exists”)? or, in singling out

promoting Plato’s work than has often been acknowleged; see her “Did the Timaeus Create a
Textual Community?” GRBS 47 (2007), pp. 170 ff.
3 Samuel Sandmel, Philo of Alexandria: An Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1979), p. 4.
4 David Winston, Logos and Mystical Theology in Philo of Alexandria (Cincinnati, OH:
Hebrew Union College Press, 1985), p. 58.
5 Maren Niehoff (private communication) reminds me that some caution is advisable here:
although the rabbinic sources never quote Philo explicitly, “it still remains to be investigated
whether the rabbis may have been familiar with him through Christian writers (e. g., Origen’s li-
brary in Caesarea, where Jews worked for him, possibly even on the copying of Philo’s texts).”
6 As Momigliano succinctly put it: “The Jews forgot Philo even before they forgot Greek.
Philo was rediscovered for the Jews in a Latin translation by the Italian Jew Azariah de’ Rossi”
(Arnaldo D. Momigliano, “Greek Culture and the Jews,” in M.I. Finley, ed., The Legacy of
Greece: A New Appraisal [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1981], p. 343); see also Ralph Marcus, “A
Sixteenth Century Hebrew Critique of Philo,” HUCA 21 (1948), pp. 29-71. De’ Rossi’s quota-
tions from Philo (whom he calls Yedidyah the Alexandrian) can now be easily retrieved through
the index in Joanna Weinberg, ed., The Light of the Eyes: Azariah de’ Rossi, trans. from the He-
brew with an introduction and annotations (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2001).
7 Winston, Logos and Mystical Theology, p. 10, gives some stunning examples of this ad-
Papers
aptation; and see now David T. Runia, Philo and the Church Fathers: A Collection of
(Leiden: Brill, 1995).
Plato Phi-
8 De Viris Illustribus, 11: “E£ Platon phildnizei @ Philon platonizei, id est ‘Aut
nos Siamakés, HierOnymo u De viris illustribus
lonem sequitur, aut Platonem Philo” (Konstanti
[Thessalonica: Kentro Byzantinon Ereunon, 1992], pp. 182f.).
9 See, e.g., Conf., 95, 97; Post., 28; Abr., 80.
156 Chapter 5

one of God’s major characteristics, ho agenétos (the “Uncreated One”) — but we

will never know what he is, his essence.!? Such is Philo’s axiomatic premise:
Doubtless hard to unriddle and hard to apprehend is the Father and Ruler of all (ho
patér kai hégemon ton sympanton), but that is no reason why we should shrink from
searching for Him. But in such searching two principal questions arise which demand
the consideration of the genuine philosopher. One is whether the Deity exists (ei esti
to theion), a question necessitated by those who practise atheism, the worst form of
wickedness, the other is what [the deity] is in essence (ti esti kata tén ousian). Now to
answer the first question does not need much labour, but the second is not only difficult
but perhaps impossible to solve.!!

The question of God’s existence is promptly answered with reference to the

created world: just as a statue presupposes a sculptor, a painting a painter, or a
well-ordered city good rulers, “so then he who comes to the truly Great City, this
world ... must he not naturally or rather necessarily gain the conception of the
Maker and Father and Ruler also?’’!* Any sensible human being must conclude
from the well-ordered structure of our visible world that it was planned and cre-
ated by a rational being standing outside of and superior to it; this is taken for
granted: “In this way we have gained the conception of the existence of God.”
The second question, however, of God’s essence is much more difficult to ad-
dress. Philo casts his answer in the form of a lengthy meditation on Ex. 33:17—
23, the famous passage in which Moses expresses his desire to see God. Moses,
a true philosopher in Philo’s terms, has learned his lesson and knows that “this
universe has been my teacher, to bring me to the knowledge that you [God] are
and do subsist. As your son, it has told me of his Father, as your work of its
contriver.”!* But Moses wants to know more. When he addresses his bold re-
quest to God, “Reveal yourself to me!” — this is Philo’s version of the biblical
“Oh, let me behold your Glory!” (Ex. 33:18) — he really means, “But what you
are in your essence I desire to understand.”!> God answers that this is impossible
for any created being, but Moses insists and wants to see “at least the Glory that
surrounds you, and by your Glory I understand the powers (tas dynameis) that

10 On the transcendence of God in Philo, see John M. Dillon and Wilhelm H. Wuellner, eds.,
The Transcendence of God in Philo: Some Possible Sources. Protocol of the Sixteenth Colloquy,
20 April 1975, Center for Hermeneutical Studies in Hellenistic and Modern Culture (Berkeley,
CA: The Center, 1975); Gerhard Sellin, “Gotteserkenntnis und Gotteserfahrung bei Philo von
Alexandrien,” in Joachim Gnilka et al., eds., Monotheismus und Christologie: Zur Gottesfrage
im hellenistischen Judentum und im Urchristentum (Freiburg: Herder, 1992), pp. 17-40.
'' Spec. Leg., I, 32; cf. also Mut. Nom., 11 ff.; Praem., 40. All translations of Philo’s works
follow, if not indicated differently, the Greek-English text in the Loeb Classical Library
edition
(with some modifications).
12 Spec. Leg., I, 34.
DBibidiy35:
hid’ 41)
'S Tbid.
 Philo 157

keep guard around you.”!* With the “Glory” surrounding God, Philo is referring
quite literally to God’s Glory (kavod) in the biblical text, but Moses’s explana-
tion of “Glory” as God’s “powers” (dynameis) transfers the biblical language to
the realm of Platonic/Philonic philosophy. The “powers” are the facets of the
unknowable, unattainable, transcendent God; as such, in their essence, they are
unknowable as well, but they nevertheless embody and enable the transition
from the transcendent to on (through many stages) down to our visible world.
They are the divine activities that lead to the world of ideas and ultimately to the
created world perceptible to our senses:
The powers (dynameis) which you seek to know are discerned not by sight but by
mind ... But while in their essence they are beyond your apprehension, they neverthe-
less present to your sight a sort of impress and copy of their active working. You men
have for your use seals which when brought into contact with wax or similar material
stamp on them any number of impressions while they themselves are not docked in
any part thereby but remain as they were. Such you must conceive My powers to be,
supplying quality and shape to things which lack either and yet changing or lessen-
ing nothing of their eternal nature. Some among you call them not inaptly “forms” or
“ideas” (ideas), since they bring form to everything that is, giving order to the disor-
dered, limit to the unlimited, bounds to the unbounded, shape to the shapeless, and in
general changing the worse to something better. Do not, then, hope to be ever able to
apprehend Me or any of My powers in Our essence (kata tén ousian). But I readily and
with right goodwill will admit you to a share of what is attainable. That means that I
bid you come and contemplate the universe and its contents, a spectacle apprehended
not by the eye of the body but by the unsleeping eyes of the mind."

God’s “powers” as facets of a multifaceted God are the “instruments” by which

he puts his imprint on something that is not described in detail but would seem to
be some kind of raw material (the disordered, unlimited, unbounded, and shape-
less) that receives form through them. In doing so these powers create a “copy of
their active working” — that is, of themselves — much as a stamp produces a copy
of itself on impressionable material. No doubt, Philo is openly alluding here to
the archetypical intelligible world of Platonic “ideas” (ideai). In “creating” the
intelligible world, these powers lose nothing of their “eternal nature” (their sub-
stance and power) but simply give form to something new, something that is nev-
ertheless identical with them. (Philo goes to great lengths here in identifying the
divine powers with the Platonic ideas,'* or, to put it differently, in arguing that
the intelligible world is simultaneously a copy of the divine powers and identi-

16 Tbid, 45.
'7 Tbid., 46-49.
Plato’s
18 This is one of the extremely rare cases in which Philo identifies the “powers” with
am not sure whether
“ideas.” Maren Niehoff cautions against too strong a formulation here: “T
the Divine powers with the Platonic ideas or rather whether he is consciously
Philo identifies
knows to be widely familiar” (private communica-
borrowing language from Plato, which he
tion).
158 Chapter 5

cal with these powers.) It goes without saying that the powers and the universe
created by them can be contemplated only by the mind, not by the senses.
That universe of eternal and unchangeable ideas which is created by the divine
powers (and at the same time identical with them) is in Philo’s terminology the
kosmos noétos, the “world/universe discernible by the (human) mind/ intellect.”
Its younger brother — quite literally “younger brother,” because Philo also uses
the metaphorical language of God’s two sons, one elder and one younger’? — is
the kosmos aisthétos, the “world/universe perceived by (our) senses” — our tem-
poral, changeable, and visible earthly world. Just as the divine powers and the
intelligible world are related to each other in the way that “archetype” and “im-
print” or “copy” are related, so too must the visible world (God’s younger son)
be regarded as a “copy” of the intelligible world (the elder son).
In the quoted passage from De Specialibus Legibus, Philo is not very explicit
about those powers that (or rather who, since they are often personified) set
God’s creative act in motion. There can be no doubt, however, that two powers
stand out and play a superior role, namely, Logos and Wisdom. In another par-
able using the image of the great city as a metaphor for the world, Philo identi-
fies the Logos as the divine power responsible for the origin of the intelligible
world:
The conception we have concerning God must be similar to this, namely that when he
had decided to found the great cosmic city, he first conceived its outlines. Out of these
he composed the intelligible cosmos (kosmos noétos), which served him as a model
when he composed the sense-perceptible cosmos (kosmos aisthétos) as well. Just as the
city that was marked out beforehand within the mind of the architect had no location
outside, but had been engraved in the soul of the craftsman as by a seal, in the same
way the cosmos composed of the ideas (ho ek ton idedn kosmos) would have no other
place than the divine Logos (ton theion logon) who gives these (ideas) their ordered
disposition.”°
The Platonic pattern of this passage is unmistakable. God, the eternal archi-
tect, conceives in his mind the world of ideas, which is the intelligible world
(kosmos noétos) and which in turn serves as the pattern of the sense-perceptible
world (kosmos aisthétos). Just as the architect first mentally designs the city to
be built before carrying out his plan, so too does God first mentally conceive
of the world of ideas before creating the world. Moreover, we learn precisely
what — or rather who — among the divine powers is the active power in God’s
mind contemplating the intelligible world: it is the divine Logos, the creative

'? Quod Deus, 31 f.; Conf, 146f.

© Op. Mund., 19f. (the translation follows Philo of Alexandria: On the Creation of the
Cosmos According to Moses, transl. with an introduction and commentary by David
T. Runia
[Leiden: Brill, 2001], pp. SO f.); see also Mos., II, 127. In Spec. Leg. I, 81, he calls
the Logos
the “image of God” (logos d’ estin eikon theou); according to Som., I,
75, the Logos contains
“all His [God’s] fullness — namely light.”
 Philo 159

power within God. Philo even goes so far as to identify the intelligible world of
ideas with the Logos (similar to his identification of the unspecified powers with
the intelligible world):
If you would wish to use a formulation that has been stripped down to essentials, you
might say that the intelligible kosmos (ton noéton kosmon) is nothing else than the
Logos of God (theou logon) as he is actually engaged in making the cosmos.”!

That Philo uses the Logos as the creative power within God has philosophical
as well as theological reasons. Philosophically, Philo adopts the Stoic concept of
Logos as the chief power immanent in the world. Theologically, the concept of
Logos is not particularly prominent in the Bible, since the Septuagint translates
the frequent biblical “word of God” (devar YHWH) mostly as rhéma Kyriou and
not as logos Kyriou.?? However, in Psalm 119, which identifies God’s word with
the Torah, the Hebrew devarkha (“your [God’s] word’’) is rendered in the Sep-
tuagint by Jogos sou (or, in the plural, /ogoi).*? It may well be that Philo delib-
erately alludes to this translation, all the more so as the identification of Logos
with Torah certainly suited his purpose — the Torah as the “active agent” of God
in the world (and note the identification of Torah with Wisdom in Jesus Sirach?*
and in the rabbinic Midrash).25 Moreover, whereas the Greek rendering of the
creation narrative in Genesis does not use the word Jogos (although the act of
creation is produced by speech: “And God said ...”),° the noncanonical Wisdom
of Solomon explicitly attributes creation to God’s Word (and Wisdom): “O God
of my fathers and Lord of mercy, who has made all things by your Word (en logo
sou), and through your Wisdom (té sophia sou) has equipped man.” 27 Tt is more
than likely that Philo knew the postbiblical Wisdom literature, in particular the
Wisdom of Solomon, and was influenced by it.**
The obvious identification of Logos and Wisdom in the Wisdom of Solomon
is a case in point. Wisdom (Greek sophia) plays a prominent role in Philo as
well and is yet another power among the divine powers that acts as an agent of
creation. Whereas the Logos, as we have seen, is responsible for the intelligible
world, Wisdom would seem to be responsible for the world perceived by the
senses:
51);
21. Qp. Mund., 24 (transl. Runia, Philo of Alexandria: On the Creation of the Cosmos, p.
cf. also Fug., 12.
and with no
22 Pace Winston, Logos and Mystical Theology, p. 15, who states categorically
creative as-
reference: “But the special suitability of the Logos for Philo’s exposition of God’s
fact that it could readily be assimilated to the ‘word of God’ in Scripture, which
pect lies in the
had been rendered in the Septuagint by the term /ogos.”
169.
23 LXX Ps. 118:9, 16, 17, 25, 28, 42, 57, 67, 74, 81, 101, 114, 139, 147, 160,
24 Sir, 24:23: on this, see Schafer, Mirror of His Beauty, pp. 29 ff.
5
Nd
Bereshit Rabbah 1:1.
26 The Hebrew wayyomer is translated with eipen.
27 Sap. Sal. 9:1:
28 See Schafer, Mirror of His Beauty, p. 39.
160 Chapter 5

Now “father and mother” is a phrase that can bear different meanings. For instance,
we should rightly say and without further question that the architect (démiourgos) who
made this universe2? was at the same time father of what was thus born, while its mother
was the knowledge (epistémé) possessed by its Maker. With this knowledge God had
union, though not as human beings have it, and begat created being. And knowledge,
having received the divine seed and when her travail was consummated, bore the only
beloved son who is apprehended by the senses (aisthétos), the world which we see
(ton kosmon). Thus in the pages of one of the inspired company [the author of the bib-
lical book of Proverbs], Wisdom (sophia) is represented as speaking of herself after
this manner: “God obtained me first of all his works and founded me before the ages”
(Prov. 8:22).°°

This passage describes the origins of the visible world, the kosmos aisthétos: it
emerges out of the union between God (the divine architect) and his knowledge
(epistémé), which is also called Wisdom (sophia). Their offspring is not the only
son of the divine “couple” but the only son “who is apprehended by the senses,”
since there is, as we have seen, another older son: the intelligible world (kosmos
noétos). Hence, Logos and Wisdom are the two chief powers in God responsible
for the two worlds — the world of ideas and its image, our visible world. Philo
combines here the biblical Wisdom concept and the postbiblical/ philosophical
idea of the Logos in order to explain the effect of the creative powers within God.
Philo’s metaphorical language should not mislead us, however. That Logos is re-
sponsible for the “older son” and Wisdom for the “younger son” does not mean
that Wisdom is inferior to Logos. On the contrary, ontologically both Logos and
Wisdom are identical (as in the Wisdom of Solomon); they are used only to dif-
ferentiate between different aspects of God and his creative activity.3!
Through his powers of Logos and Wisdom, God intervenes in our human
world. We cannot know his essence, but we are able to experience the activity
of Logos and Wisdom in our visible world. Since the visible world is the copy
of the invisible world of ideas, we can approach this higher world — and hence
God — with the part of us closely related to it: our mind. In other words, the
movement from above, from God to his created world, has its complement in a
reverse movement from below — from us to God. In order to understand this bet-
ter, we need to examine more closely Philo’s concept of body and soul.

Body and Soul, Senses and Mind

The distinction between body and soul is alien to Biblical Judaism; the Hebrew
words nefesh and neshamah (sometimes translated as “soul”) mean “breath (of

2) Lit. “the All.”

30 Ebr, 30.
31 For more on this aspect, see Schafer, Mirror of His Beauty, pp. 44f.
 Philo 161

life)” and do not presuppose any notion of the soul as an entity independent of
the body. It was only under the influence of Greek philosophy during the Hel-
lenistic period that there entered into Jewish thought the idea of an immortal soul
as distinct from the body and as the true essence of human beings (bestowed
on the body at birth and taken away after death). Although traces of this con-
cept can be found as early as the second century BCE (a prominent example is
Dan. 12:2 f., which seems to express the belief in a spiritual resurrection, some
kind of starlike existence of the righteous after death), it was left to Philo, fol-
lowing his model Plato, to introduce into Judaism a fully developed concept of
body and soul as two distinct and even hostile entities. To be sure, Philo was not
only a good Platonist but also a good Jew, and therefore he could not ignore the
_ biblical view and simply discard the body. On the contrary, he was fully aware
of the practical needs of the body; it has even been concluded from his language
and his fondness for athletic metaphors that he himself “must have been a pas-
sionate devotee of athletics.’*”
Philosophically, however, he was less patient with the body. The body, he
argues, is “wicked and a plotter against the soul ... even a corpse and a dead
thing.”*? Only after the death of the body will the soul be liberated from its
“tomb” and enjoy its proper life. Quoting Heraclitus’ saying that, “We live their
death, and are dead to their life,’”** he concludes:
He [Heraclitus] means that now, when we are living, the soul is dead and has been en-
tombed in the body as in a sepulchre; whereas, should we die, the soul lives forthwith
its own proper life, and is released from the body, the baneful corpse to which it was
tied.**
In one of his characteristically metaphorical interpretations of the Bible, Philo
identifies Er (the patriarch Judah’s first-born son) with the body, because “Er”
means “leathern bulk” (deriving “Er” from Hebrew ‘or, “skin” and “leather”).
When the Bible says, “But Er, Judah’s first-born, was displeasing to the Lord,*®
and the Lord killed him” (Gen. 38:7), we must take this as a metaphor for the
wicked body that ultimately perishes and liberates the soul. In this regard, he
concludes, there is a difference between the approach of the athlete and the phi-
losopher to their respective bodies:
For the athlete refers everything to the well-being of the body, and, lover of the body
that he is, would sacrifice the soul itself on its behalf; but the philosopher being en-
amored of the noble thing that lives in himself, cares for the soul, and pays no regard

32 Winston, Logos and Mystical Theology, p. 12.

33 Leg. All., III, 69.
34 Hippolytus, Refutatio Omnium Haeresium, IX, 10:6: athanatoi thnétoi, thnétoi athanatoi,
and im-
zontes ton ekeinon thanaton, ton de ekeinon bion tethnedtes (“Mortals are immortals
mortals are mortals, the one living the other’s death and dying the other’s life’’).
35 Leg. All., I, 108.
36 Lit. “wicked/evil (ra‘) in the eyes of the Lord.”
162 Chapter 5

to that which is really a corpse, the body, concerned only that the best part of him, his
soul, may not be hurt by an evil thing, a very corpse, tied to it 27

Accordingly, it is our “fleshly nature” that is the source of “ignorance” (agnoia)

and “stupidity” (amathia). Only the
souls that are free from flesh and body (asarkoi kai asOmatoi) spend their days in the
theater of the universe and with a joy that none can hinder see and hear things divine,
which they have desired with love insatiable. But those which bear the burden of the
flesh, oppressed by the grievous load, cannot look up to the heavens as they revolve,
but with necks bowed downwards are constrained to stand rooted to the ground like
four-footed beasts.**
The latter are ordinary human beings who “have abandoned themselves to the
unstable things of chance, none of which has anything to do with our noblest
part, the soul or mind (psychén é noun), but all are related to that dead thing
which was our birth-fellow, the body.” The former are the “souls of those who
have given themselves to genuine philosophy, who from first to last study to
die to the life in the body,*? that a higher existence immortal and incorporeal,
in the presence of Him who is Himself immortal and uncreated, may be their
portion.’
The means by which the true philosopher — during his lifetime, when his
soul is still entombed in his body — attains a foretaste of his released soul’s life
after death is the mind (nous, dianoia), or more precisely the higher mind (to
be distinguished from the lower mind, which responds to sensory perception).
As we have seen in the quotation above, Philo uses “soul” and “mind” almost
synonymously, but “soul” seems to be the more comprehensive term, whereas
“mind” is the specifically rational part of the soul that is responsible for the abil-
ity to reason.*! With their mind, human beings can rise above the world of sense
perception and participate in the intelligible world of ideas; it is their mind or
intellect that connects them with the world above, created and dominated by
the divine Logos: “Every man, in respect of his mind (dianoia), is allied to the
divine Logos (/ogé theid), having come into being as an imprint (ekmageion)
or fragment (apospasma) or effulgence (apaugasma) of that blessed nature.’
It is certainly no accident that Philo uses here the rare term apaugasma (“efful-
gence” or “radiance”), which in the Wisdom of Solomon is reserved for God’s
Wisdom, “the effulgence (apaugasma) that streams from everlasting light, the
flawless mirror of the active power of God, and the image of his goodness” (Sap.
Sal. 7:26). Just as Wisdom/Logos is the reflection of the transcendent God, so

37 Leg. All., III, 72.

38 Gig., 30f.
This is an allusion to Plato, Phaedo, 67e.
Gio 4: }
*! Sandmel, Philo of Alexandria, p. 100.
* Op. Mund., 146.
 Philo 163

too is the human mind a reflection of Wisdom/Logos. God, the divine Logos,
and our Logos (mind) are closely related:
One is the archetypical Logos above us, the other the copy (miméma) of it which we
possess [our mind]. Moses calls the first the “image of God” (eikona theou), the second
the impress of that image (tés eikonos ekmageion). For God, he says, made man not
“the image of God” but “after the image” (Gen. 1:27).7 And thus the mind (nous) in
each of us, which in the true and full sense is the “man,” is an expression at third hand
from the Maker, while between them is the Logos which serves as paradigm of our
reason, but itself is the copy/representation (apeikonisma) of God.

Now, how in fact does the human mind connect itself with the divine Logos or
Wisdom? It is the prerogative and task of the philosopher, the “lover of wis-
_dom,” to direct his mind to the invisible, immaterial, and eternal world above.
Yet there is a huge difference, Philo argues, between the wisdom of the philoso-
phers, or traditional knowledge, which can be taught and learned, and divine
Wisdom, which cannot be acquired solely by education but is bestowed upon
the adept:*
No doubt it is profitable ... to feed the mind on ancient and time-honored thoughts,
to trace the venerable tradition of noble deeds, which historians and all the family of
poets have handed down to the memory of their own and future generations. But when,
unforeseen and unhoped for, the sudden beam of self-inspired Wisdom (automathous
sophias) has shone upon us, when that Wisdom has opened the closed eye of the soul
and made us spectators rather than hearers of knowledge, and substituted in our minds
(dianoia) sight (opsin), the swiftest of senses, for the lower sense of hearing, then it is
idle any longer to exercise the ear with words.”

Here, traditional wisdom is confronted with divine Wisdom. Traditional wisdom

is that which is handed down by historians and poets (and philosophers, one
might add), the “cultural memory” of all previous generations, whereas divine
Wisdom is unrelated to our past human history; it cannot be taught and learned
but shines upon us in a sudden beam. As such, it is automathés (subsequently
also autodidaktos), “self-inspired” or “self-taught,” that is, it is its own source
and obtained by the adept automatically or intuitively. The faculty of the soul or
mind that receives it is silent sight (one is tempted to say vision), in contrast to
verbose hearing. To be sure, Philo continues, we should not disregard traditional
knowledge, but in repeating this plea over and over again, he fosters precisely
such a disregard, because ultimately divine Wisdom sweeps away traditional
knowledge:

43 Translating the Hebrew be-tzalmo literally.

44 Her., 230f. Cf. also Op. Mund., 69.
45 For a more thorough analysis, see Schafer, Mirror of His Beauty, pp. 50 ff.
46 Sac., 78:
164 Chapter 5

We must not indeed reject any learning that has grown grey through time, nay, we
should make it our aim to read the writings of the sages and listen to proverbs and old-
world stories from the lips of those who know antiquity, and ever seek for knowledge
about the men and deeds of old. Yet when God causes the young shoots of self-inspired
Wisdom (autodidaktou sophias) to spring up within the soul (en psyché), the knowl-
edge that comes from teaching must straightaway be abolished and swept off. Ay, even
of itself it will subside and ebb away. God’s scholar, God’s pupil, God’s disciple ...
cannot any more suffer the guidance of men.*”
Although the knowledge stored in the writings of our sages will not and must
not be neglected,*® it is nothing compared to the divine Wisdom that emerges
within the human soul and of which God himself is the source. It “springs up” in
the soul in a sudden act of recognition, without any toil or labor,” and it sweeps
away the “old” wisdom of human knowledge. The chosen “seer” is now directly
guided by God and does no longer needs the guidance of men. His reward will
be “a treasure of perfect happiness” (thesauron eudaimonias teleias)°° and the
“knowledge and understanding of God” (gndsis ... kai epistémé theou).>' To be
sure, and to reiterate, this goal can only be reached by forfeiting bodily pleasure
and by following the workings of the mind, the cognitive part of the soul, which
allows divine Wisdom to overwhelm us with its (her) work:
In the same way the pleasures of the body descend upon us in gathered force like a cata-
ract deluging and obliterating one after the other all the things of the mind; and then,
after no long interval, Wisdom with strong and vehement counterblast both slackens
the impetus of pleasures and mitigates in general all the appetites and ambitions which
the bodily senses kindle in us.*?

The Soul’s Vision of God

Who, then, are the privileged ones granted the gift of divinely inspired knowl-
edge of God? And what does this gift entail, what is its effect on the human
soul?’ As to be expected, first in line among the privileged are the prophets.

47 Tbid.
‘8 Traditional learning is symbolized in the Bible by Hagar, Sarah’s handmaid, whereas di-
vine Wisdom is symbolized by Sarah, the mistress, herself. Union with Hagar produces Ishmael,
“the lower branches of school lore,” but union with Sarah produces Isaac, a child of “higher
birth” (Cong., 14).
4 Quod Deus, 92.
°° Tid.
5! Tbid., 143.
2. Som, 1L'13;
°> On Philo’s “mysticism,” see in particular David Winston, “Was Philo a Mystic?”
in
Joseph Dan and Frank Talmage, eds., Studies in Jewish Mysticism: Proceedings
of Regional
Conferences Held at the University of California, Los Angeles and McGill University
in April,
1978 (Cambridge, MA: Association for Jewish Studies, 1982), pp. 15-39. Cf. also
the illuminat-
 165

They are the “spokesmen” of God, the truly “God-inspired” and “‘possessed.”*4
Interpreting Gen. 15:12 in the Septuagint version (“About sunset an ecstasy [ek-
stasis] fell upon Abraham and lo a great dark terror [phobos skoteinos megas]
falls upon him”), Philo explains how divine inspiration takes place within the
prophet’s soul. The “sun,” he says, is a metaphor for our mind (nous): like the
sun, which shines during the day, the mind, when active, “pours as it were a
noonday beam into the whole soul”; this is the “ordinary” state of mind, which is
self-contained, not possessed. This changes, however, when the sun/mind sets:
But when it [the sun/mind] comes to its setting, naturally ecstasy (ekstasis) and divine
possession (entheos katokdché) and inspired frenzy (mania)> fall upon us. For when
the light of God shines, the human light sets; when the divine light sets, the human
dawns and rises. This is what regularly befalls the fellowship of the prophets. The
mind (nous) is evicted at the arrival of the divine Spirit (kata tén tou theiou pneumatos
aphixin), but when that departs the mind returns to its tenancy. Mortal and immortal
may not share the same home. And therefore the setting of reason (tou logismou) and
the darkness (skotos) which surrounds it produce ecstasy (ekstasin) and inspired frenzy
(theophoréton manian).>°
This is a particularly telling passage. Not only do we learn that the light of
God sparks ecstasy, divine possession, and inspired frenzy within the human
soul — Philo underscores this repeatedly (and I return to it later) — but, more
important in this context, he stresses that the divine light is incompatible with
human light, the mind. When the divine light (identified with the Holy Spirit)
shines upon the prophet, the mind recedes, or rather, as he so drastically puts
it, is removed or banished from its house, the human body (exoikizetai). Hence
the human mind is not elevated to the divine light and dissolved into it, but is
replaced by something completely and essentially different. The “great dark ter-
ror” that Abraham experienced when the divinely inspired ecstasy fell upon him
is the darkness left by the “setting of reason,” the human Logos. On the other
hand, however, it is precisely this darkness that is the precondition for the dawn
of the divine light — ecstasy and frenzy.
The paragon of prophecy, of course, is Moses. In his case, Philo’s language
sometimes becomes exceedingly hymnic and theologically daring. To be sure, as
we have seen, Moses’s request to see God’s Glory was rejected by making clear
to him that he could never see God’s essence but still might be allowed to catch a
glimpse of God through his “powers.” The following passage is in keeping with
this cautious attitude. There, Philo praises Moses’s mind as a “mind more per-

ing and richly documented article by Maren R. Niehoff, “What Is in a Name? Philo’s Mystical
Philosophy of Language,” JSQ 2 (1995), pp. 220-252.
54 Her., 259.
55 The Greek mania means both “madness” and “inspired frenzy.” Below, Philo uses the full
phrase theophoréton manian to make sure he is not talking just about “madness.”
56 Her., 264-265.
166 Chapter 5

fect and more thoroughly cleansed, which has undergone initiation into the great
mysteries (nous ta megala mystéria myétheis), a mind which gains its knowledge
of the First Cause (to aition) not from created things... but lifting its eyes above
and beyond creation obtains a clear reflection®’ (emphasin enargé) of the Uncre-
ated One (tou agenétou).”** Moses’s mind is elevated above the created world
and approaches the hidden essence of the First Cause through his “reflection,”
the world of ideas (chiefly Logos and Wisdom). Yet Philo goes much further in
his commentary on Exodus 24:2:
Why does He say, “Moses alone shall come near to God, and they [Aaron, Nadab and
Abihu, and the seventy elders of Israel] shall not come near, and the people shall not
go up with them” (Ex. 24:2)?
O most excellent and God-worthy ordinance, that the prophetic mind (ton prophétikon
noun) alone should approach God and that those in second place should go up, making
a path to heaven, while those in third place and the turbulent characters of the people
should neither go up above nor go up with them but those worthy of beholding should
be beholders of the blessed path above. But that “(Moses) alone shall go up” is said
most naturally. For when the prophetic mind becomes divinely inspired and filled with
God (enthousia kai theophoreitai), it becomes like the monad, not being at all mixed
with any of those things associated with duality. But he who is resolved into the nature
of unity, is said to come near to God in a kind of family relation, for having given up
and left behind all mortal kinds, he is changed into the divine, so that such men become
kin to God and truly divine.°?

Here, a clear distinction is made between Moses, the only true prophet who
comes near to God, his entourage (Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and the seventy
elders of Israel), who are allowed to climb the mountain togther with Moses but
are not permitted to come close to God, and the people who must stay at the
foot of the mountain. It is only the prophet’s mind that, in approaching God, is
possessed by divine inspiration. So far, the text fits well with what we already
know about Moses. But that he, during this process, loses his “duality” and
becomes “like the monad,” that he is “resolved into the nature of unity” and
“changed into the divine” — these qualifications are quite unique. Unfortunately,
the Quaestiones are preserved only in Armenian translation, and it is difficult to
reconstruct the original Greek text behind the translation. In this particular case
the closest parallel is in De Vita Mosis, which apparently employs some of the
key terms used in our passage:
Afterwards the time came when he [Moses] had to make his pilgrimage from earth to
heaven, and leave this mortal life for immortality, summoned thither by the Father who
resolved his twofold nature (auton dyada onta) of soul and body into a single unity (eis

57 The translation by Colson and Whitaker (Philo, vol. 1, p. 369) has, somewhat inaccu-
rately, “vision.’
58 Leg. All., Ill, 100f.
IO she Th) 29;
 Philo 167

monados anestoicheiou), transforming his whole being into mind, pure as the sunlight
(eis noun hélioeidestaton).©

From this passage it becomes clear that the divinely inspired prophetic mind of
Moses leaves behind the duality of body and soul and is transformed into a single
entity, a monad, that is characterized as pure mind. What De Vita Mosis describes
is precisely the stage at which the soul liberates itself from its bodily prison and
returns to its ideal and always longed-for state. That is to say, it captures the very
moment at which Moses crosses the border from mortality to immortality. To be
sure, he still prophesies, namely his very last blessings over the tribes (Deut. 33),
but this prophecy is uttered at the threshold of immortality, immediately before
his death, and hence just prior to his transformation into a monad.
In employing this vocabulary for Moses’s ascent to Mount Sinai and his “com-
ing near to God,” the Quaestiones in Exodum take an enormous and bold step.
They transfer Moses’s transformation from duality to unity — from body and soul
to pure soul — from the realm of immortality to the realm of mortality: Moses
attained this stage, which is usually reserved for the time after death, during his
lifetime! He came as close as possible to God, because when God asked him to
come near to him, he was still a human being with body and soul (and he would
return to this human stage following this unique experience).
Moreover, the Quaestiones go further than De Vita Mosis in describing what
precisely this transformation entails. Whereas the phrase that Moses is “resolved
into the nature of unity” can be understood, with De Vita Mosis, as his transfor-
mation from the duality of body and soul to the unity of pure soul — and hence
not as a unity/unification with God — further along the Quaestiones stress that
Moses enters into a “kind of family relation” with God and, being “changed into
the divine,” thus becomes “truly divine.” Here, of course, it would be impera-
tive to know the original Greek text (which we do not). The only other passage
where Philo speaks of the “divinization” of the “holy soul” through its ascent to
a region above the heavens — that is, to God — is in his commentary on Ex. 24:12
(“Come up to Me to the mountain and be there”), hence within the same per-
icope.®! The translator from the Armenian remarks that the Armenian word for
becoming divinized “usually renders theousthai, a word that seems not to occur
elsewhere in Philo” and proposes theophoreisthai as the Greek Vorlage. But
although this word is commonly used by Philo to signify being possessed or in-
spired by God (in Q.E., II, 29, Marcus translates it with “filled with God”), it

60 Mos., II, 288.

6 Q.E., Il, 40.
62 Philo, Supplement II, Questions and Answers on Exodus, trans. from the ancient Ar-
menian version of the original Greek by Ralph Marcus (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
com-
Press; London: William Heinemann, 1961), p. 82, n.n. Maren Niehoff informs me (private
munication) that the Armenian word in question is astwardzanam and means “to make oneself
God, to become God, to unite or join someone to God, to resemble God.”
168 Chapter 5

does not necessarily take on the strong meaning of becoming divinized in the
sense of becoming united with the divine. Altogether, therefore, although he
goes very far in the exceptional case of Moses, Philo seems reluctant to overstate
his case. We cannot preclude the possibility that the Armenian translator retains
responsibility for the particular tone of our two passages in the Quaestiones, with
their emphasis on Moses’s “deification.”™
Ultimately, however, it is not only Moses’s soul that can ascend to the heights
of the divine during its lifetime but any human soul if it follows the proper pro-
cedure. Any mind (nous), “which has been perfectly cleansed and purified, and
which renounces all things pertaining to creation, is acquainted with One alone
(hen monon) and knows the Uncreated (to agenéton), to Whom it has drawn
nigh, by Whom also it has been taken to Himself.”®° That purified soul that has
left behind the created world is drawn close to God, the Uncreated One. When
Hannah says, “I will pour out my soul before the Lord” (1 Sam. 1:15), according
to Philo this refers to the desire of the human soul to obtain a vision of God:
What else was meant by the words, “I will pour out my soul before the Lord” but “I
will consecrate it all to him, I will loosen all the chains that bound it tight, which the
empty aims and desires of mortal life had fastened upon it; I will send it abroad, extend
and diffuse it, so that it shall touch the bounds of the All (tén tou pantos hapsasthai
peraton), and hasten to that most glorious and loveliest of visions (thean) — the vision
of the Uncreated (tou agenétou)”?©

This is one of the rare cases in which Philo does not employ the philosophical
pattern of the soul’s transformation into pure soul and its being “overpowered”
by the divine mind but resorts to the traditional (biblical and postbiblical) lan-
guage of the vision of God. He does not explain what this vision entails, but
there can be no doubt that for him it is precisely this: the transformation of the
soul, and not the vision of God’s shape in terms of the biblical and apocalyptic
narratives.
In a number of passages Philo describes in greater detail what this ascent of
the soul/mind involves. The mind of the sage (who is the perfect man) is in a
kind of liminal state, “midway between mortal and immortal kind,” on the bor-
derline between the created and the uncreated. When it directs itself to God, it is
driven by its own desire as much as by God’s overwhelming force:

°> The only passage in which Philo uses the word hendsis (“union”) is in Post., 12, where
he explains the biblical command to “cleave” to God (Deut. 30:20): “He [Moses] bids them to
‘cleave to Him,’ bringing out by the use of this word how constant and continuous and unbroken
is the concord (harmonia) and union (hendsis) that comes through making God our own.”
°* Niehoff, “What Is in a Name?” pp. 240f., n. 59, is convinced that the first passage in the
Quaestiones “even implies unio mystica,” but she also underlines the fact that “this passage is
highly exceptional.” ;
6 Plant., 64.
9 Boye,, Sp.
 Philo 169

When the mind is mastered by the love of the divine (erdtos theiou), when it strains its
powers to reach the inmost shrine, when it puts forth every effort and ardor on its for-
ward march, under the divine impelling force (theophoroumenos)"’ it forgets all else,
forgets itself, and fixes its thoughts and memories on Him alone whose attendant and
servant it is, to whom it dedicates not a palpable offering, but incense, the incense of
consecrated virtues. But when the inspiration (to enthousiddes) is stayed, and the strong
yearning abates, it hastens back from the divine and becomes a man.**

In other words, the divinely inspired mind is no longer a human mind but in
some kind of intermediate stage between the human and the divine,°? completely
overwhelmed by the inspiration granted from above. As we have seen, Philo
distinguishes between divine Wisdom and the ordinary wisdom of the philoso-
phers: whereas the latter can be taught and learned, the former is bestowed upon
‘the adept as a divine gift and therefore called automathés or autodidaktos, “self-
inspired” or “self-taught.” The truly wise man, Philo argues, is a man
who learns directly from no teacher but himself (automathés kai autodidaktos); for he
does not by searchings and practisings and toilings gain improvement, but as soon as
he comes into existence he finds Wisdom (sophian) placed ready to his hand, shed from
heaven above, and of this he drinks undiluted draughts, and sits feasting, and ceases not
to be drunken with the sober drunkenness which right reason brings. This is he whom
Holy Writ calls “Isaac,” whom the soul did not conceive at one time and gave birth to
at another, for it says “she conceived and gave birth” (Gen. 21:2) as though timelessly.
For he that was thus born was not a man, but a most pure thought (noéma katharotaton),
beautiful not by practice but by nature. And for this reason she that gave birth to it is
said “to have forsaken the ways of women” (Gen. 18:11), those human ways of custom
and mere reasoning. For the nature of the self-taught (to automathes genos) is new and
higher than our reasoning (/ogou), and indeed divine (theion), arising by no human will
or purpose but by a God-inspired ecstasy (enthed mania).”

Much as human beings can (and must) aspire to receiving the “pure thought”
of divine Wisdom, it cannot be absorbed by a mere act of the human will but is
given by God as the gift of inspired/possessed frenzy.”' Like the prophets and
Moses, any true “lover of learning”” can attain this ecstatic state of mind. Like
Abraham, who was asked by God to leave his native land and his father’s house

67 Literally: “possessed/inspired by God,” that is, the same word as discussed above.
68 Som., IL, 232 f.
® This is exemplified by the high priest: when the high priest “enters into the Holy of Ho-
lies,” as Philo explains Lev. 16:17, “he will not be a man until he comes out” (Som., I, 231).
Needless to say, Philo’s exegesis runs quite contrary to the biblical text, which only says that
nobody shall be with the high priest in the Tabernacle until he reemerges. In Som., II, 185, the
high priest is called a “father of holy Logoi” (pater logon hierdn) and hence identified with the
divine Logos; on this, see Sellin, “Gotteserkenntnis,” p. 30.
7 Fug., 166-168.
71 “Self-taught” therefore does not mean, in the literal sense of the word, that one can teach
this kind of higher Wisdom oneself but rather that it comes “aqutomatically” from “above,”
without any previous education.
2 Her., 63.
170 Chapter 5

(Gen. 12:1), the soul is asked to leave the prison of its body and arrive at the new
“Jand” of divine inspiration:
Therefore, my soul, if you feel any yearning to inherit the good thing of God (t6n theion
agathon) leave not only your land, that is the body, your kinsfolk, that is the senses,
your father’s house (Gen. 12:1), that is speech, but be a fugitive from yourself also and
issue forth from yourself (ekstéthi seautés). Like persons possessed and Corybants (hoi
katechomenoi kai korybantidntes), be filled with inspired frenzy (bakcheutheisa kai
theophorétheisa),” even as the prophets are inspired. For it is the mind which is under
the divine afflatus (theophorétheisa), and no longer in its own keeping, but is stirred to
its depths and maddened by heavenward yearning, drawn by the truly existent (hypo
tou ontds ontos) and pulled upward thereto, with truth to lead the way and remove all
obstacles before its feet, that its path may be smooth to tread — such is the mind, which
has this inheritance.”
The soul that is lifted up to the divine realm leaves not only its body but itself;
filled with divine frenzy, it is no longer itself but becomes something different.
Philo fails to tell us what precisely this difference is, yet it is clear that it is a com-
pletely new state of mind. The only comparison he draws is with the Corybants,
who are “inspired with Bacchic frenzy and possessed by a god.” The “Bacchic
frenzy” refers to the Bacchanalia, the Dionysian mysteries and orgies that were
particularly popular in the first centuries CE and must have been well-known
to Philo’s readers. The Corybants are the cultic dancers of Kybele, the fertility
goddess of Asia Minor,’> mentioned also by Plato.”° So it is a state of ecstasy
and rapture in which the mind is caught up, similar to the rapture of the initiate
in the ancient mystery cults. Philo leaves no doubt, however, that this rapture is
effected by the truly existent God (to on), who draws the soul close to himself.
The following passage describes in greater detail the soul’s journey through
the various stations of the heavenly realm — through the atmosphere, the ether,
the planets and fixed stars — always “following that love of wisdom which guides
its steps.” Finally leaving the world of senses behind, it arrives at the intelligi-
ble world:
Then, after being carried around in the dances of the planets and fixed stars in accord-
ance with the laws of perfect music, and following the guidance of its love of wisdom,
it peers beyond the whole of sense-perceptible reality (pasan tén aisthétén ousian) and
desires to attain the intelligible realm (tés noétés). And when the intellect has observed
in that realm the models and forms (ta paradeigmata kai tas ideas) of the sense-percep-

” Lit. “be inspired with Bacchic frenzy and be possessed by a god.”

™ Her., 69f.
> Konrat Ziegler and Walther Sontheimer., eds., Der Kleine Pauly: Lexikon der Antike,
vol. 3 (Munich: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag, 1979), p. 379, s.v. “Kureten”; James Miller,
Measures of Wisdom: The Cosmic Dance in Classical and Christian Antiquity (Toronto: Uni-
versity of Toronto Press, 1986), pp. 56-80.
8 Euthydemus 277d-e. See also Phaedrus, 244 ff., where Plato speaks of ecstasy and mania
as important elements of philosophy.
 Philo 171

tible things which it had seen here, objects of overwhelming beauty, it then, possessed
by a sober drunkenness,’’ becomes enthused like the Corybants (hoi korybantiontes).
Filled with another longing and a higher form of desire, which has propelled it to the
utmost vault of the intelligibiles,’* it thinks it is heading towards the Great King himself
(ton megan basilea). But as it strains to see (him), pure and unmixed beams of concen-
trated light pour forth like a torrent, so that the eye of the mind, overwhelmed by the
brightness, suffers from vertigo.”
This is the climax of Philo’s description of the soul’s destiny, which leaves the
sense-perceptible world (kosmos aisthétos) behind and arrives at the intelligible
world (Kosmos noétos), the world of ideas created by the divine Logos. Having
reached that stage it is filled with the “sober drunkenness” or “intoxication” of
Corybantic frenzy and divine possession — and here Philo takes great care to
‘make clear that the Corybantic frenzy is nothing in comparison to the state of
mind and longing that characterizes the true adept. For now the initiate is faced
with another and much more arduous border to cross, namely, that border be-
tween the intelligible world and the hidden God, to whom he assigns here not
the philosophical appellation to on but the biblical appellation King. The soul
“thinks it is heading towards the Great King,” Philo says, obviously with care-
ful consideration. For now the soul has reached the “utmost vault of the intel-
ligibiles,” that is, the very end of the intelligible world perceptible to the mind,
a borderline that cannot be crossed. The soul’s longing to finally see God will
not be fulfilled: the beams of light that stream forth from the hidden essence of
God blind its eyes. At the climax of his description of the soul’s journey, Philo
again resorts to the metaphor of light. The soul is overpowered by a stream of
divine light that dazzles its “eyes,” so that ultimately it sees — nothing.*? What

7 Other translations: “intoxication.”

78 Lit. “the things discernible [by the intellect].”
79 Op. Mund., 70f. (transl. Runia, Philo of Alexandria: On the Creation of the Cosmos,
p. 64).
80 This important aspect has also been emphasized by Niehoff, “What Is in a Name?,”
pp. 238 f.: “Ultimately, the human soul cannot behold God, because the intensity of His light
is said to be too strong and thus dazzling. ... If at all existent, it [the light emanating from the
soul that corresponds to and is activated by the divine light] seems to be far too weak to take
any active part vis-a-vis the onslaught of the Divine rays. ... In fact, man’s soul can therefore
not really be said to be congenial to the Divine rays.” In this context, Niehoff points out — and
rightly so — that Philo’s description of Abraham’s and Jacob’s vision remains “relatively pale”
(ibid., p. 240). With regard to Abraham, Philo states: “That is why we are told not that the Sage
saw God, but that God was seen by him. For it were impossible that anyone should by himself
apprehend the truly Existent (to pros alétheian on), did not He reveal and manifest Himself”
(Abr., 80): Similarly, concerning Jacob he makes clear: “The Father and Saviour perceiving the
sincerity of his [Jacob’s] yearning in pity gave power to the penetration of his eyesight and did
created
not grudge to grant him the vision of Himself in so far as it was possible for mortal and
is bet-
nature to contain it. Yet the vision only showed that He is, not what He is. For this which
more venerable than the monad, purer than the unit, cannot be discerned by
ter than the good,
anyone else; to God alone is it permitted to apprehend God” (Praem., 39 f.).
172 Chapter 5

remains to be communicated is that the divine befalls the soul, transforming it

into something different and leaving it blind and helpless.
In contrast to this very last stage of the soul’s journey and transforma-
tion — which ends in silence and can at most be described as a state of “immuta-
ble tranquility”®! and happiness*? — Philo is more outspoken on the immediately
preceding stage, when the soul attains to the intelligible world of the divine
Logos:
But it is the special mark of those who serve the Existent (fo on), that theirs are not the
tasks of cupbearers or bakers or cooks, or any other tasks of the earth earthy ..., but in
their thoughts ascend to the heavenly heights, setting before them Moses, the nature
beloved of God, to lead them on the way. For then they shall behold the place (ton men
topon ... theasontai) which in fact is the Logos (hos dé logos esti),** where stands God
the never changing, never swerving, and also what lies under his feet like “the work
of a brick of sapphire, like the form of the firmament of the heaven” (Ex. 24:10), even
the world of our senses, which he indicates in his mystery. For it well befits those who
have entered into comradeship with knowledge to desire to see the Existent (to on) if
they may, but, if they cannot, to see at any rate his image (tén goun eikona autou), the
most holy Logos (ton hierdtaton logon), and after the Logos its most perfect work at
all that our senses know, even this world.**

This is Philo’s interpretation of the notorious, and notoriously difficult, biblical

verse Ex. 24:10 (in the Septuagint version): “And they [Moses, Aaron, Nadab
and Abihu, and the seventy elders] saw the place where the God of Israel stood;
and under his feet was as it were the work of a brick of sapphire, like the form
of the firmament of the heaven in its purity.” The “place where the God of Is-
rael stands,” he explains, is in fact the Logos, together with Wisdom the most
potent of God’s potencies. And what lies “under his feet” — the “work of a brick
of sapphire” — is the world of our senses, the kosmos aisthétos. So Moses and
his entourage did not see God; they saw instead his “image,” the Logos, and
everyone who wants to become their equal can see and will see the Logos (and
through the Logos its creation, our world). The utmost that can be “seen” by
our soul is the world of ideas, created by and identical with the Logos; beyond
it reigns silence.

‘! Gig., 49: “true stability and immutable tranquility is that which we experience at the side
of God, who Himself stands always immutable.”
® Abr., 58: “But he to whom it is given not only to apprehend by means of knowledge all
else that nature has to show, but also to see the Father and Maker of all (ton patera kai poiétén
ton sympanton horan), may rest assured that he is advanced to the crowning point of happiness
(ep’akron eudaimonias); for nothing is higher than God, and who so has stretched the eyesight
of the soul to reach Him should pray that he may there abide and stand firm.”
%3 Following the emendation of the editors and translators of hos délos esti; see F.H. Col-
son and G. H. Whitaker, eds., Philo, with an English Translation, vol. 4 (London: William Hei-
nemann; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1958), p.160jne2:
84 Conf., 95-97.
 Philo 173

Finally, it is Philo’s own experience as a philosophic writer that he describes

in terms of divine “possession,” similar to the experience of the prophets, Moses,
and the human soul:
I feel no shame in recording my own experience, a thing I know from its having hap-
pened to me a thousand times. On some occasions, after making up my mind to follow
the usual course of writing on philosophical tenets, and knowing definitely the sub-
stance of what I was to set down, I have found my understanding incapable of giving
birth to a single idea, and have given it up without accomplishing anything. ... On other
occasions, | have approached my work empty and suddenly became full, the ideas fall-
ing in a shower from above and being sown invisibly, so that under the influence of the
divine possession I have been filled with Corybantic frenzy (hypo katochés entheou
korybantian) and been unconscious of anything, place, persons present, myself, words
spoken, lines written. For I obtained language, ideas, an enjoyment of light, keenest
vision (opsin), pellucid distinctness of objects, such as might be received through the
eyes as the result of clearest showing.*
Philosophical writing is also a divine gift, and the true philosopher is divinely
inspired and possessed like the true prophet.** The “higher thought ... comes
from a voice in my own soul, which oftentimes is god-possessed and divines
where it does not know.”*’ When the Bible says that “God cast a trance (eksta-
sin) upon Adam, and he went to sleep” (Gen. 2:21), this teaches us that the ec-
stasy of mind — the “fitting thought” — cannot be obtained but is given by God
alone.*® Appropriate thinking and successful writing depend on inspiration and
intuition — the prophet has become a philosopher.
In sum, Philo arrives at a completely new answer to the perennial question of
how God approaches his created world and how human beings in turn approach
God. Through his divine powers, notably Logos and Wisdom, God reaches down
into our universe, and through the most supreme of our faculties, the higher
mind, we ourselves can ascend to him. Human beings are composed of body and
soul, with the soul locked up in the prison of its body. On the death of the body
the soul is freed to return to its place of origin, the divine world, but even dur-
ing our lifetime we can ignore our bodily bonds and release our soul into those
higher spheres above the material world. The prophets are prime examples of
human beings who successfully undertook this journey, chief among them being
Moses — but in principle, everybody who is willing to resist the temptations of
the body can follow their lead.
The topmost region attainable by the human soul is the intelligible world of
ideas created by and identical with the divine Logos. Since the Logos (together

5 Mig., 34f.
86 On Philo’s concept of inspiration, see Helmut Burkhardt, “Inspiration der Schrift durch
weisheitliche Personalinspiration,” ThZ 47 (1991), pp. 214-225.
87 Cher.; 27.
88 Leg. All., II, 31 f.; cf. also II, 85.
174 Chapter 5

with Wisdom) is the image of the hidden God, he reflects the truly Existent and
Uncreated; but the essence of the transcendent God behind his reflection in the
world of ideas is unknowable and unattainable. No human soul will ever achieve
this realm.
The prophets, Moses (the true philosopher), and not least Philo — their souls
are lifted up in a state of ecstasy and rapture that Philo calls “divine possession”
and “inspired frenzy” and that he compares with the mystery cults of his time,
more precisely with the Corybants and Bacchants. This state of mind is charac-
terized, first, by the fact that it occurs suddenly and unexpectedly, automatically
and intuitively, without the adept’s active participation (except for the neces-
sary preparation); in other words, it is a gift from God and cannot be acquired.
Second, the soul/mind filled with divine frenzy is not itself any more. Having
reached the “utmost vault of the intelligibiles,” the soul leaves itself and is trans-
formed into something different (thus distinguishing, Philo claims, his adept
from initiates of the mystery cults). It is difficult to determine what precisely
that “different” is, yet it seems as if the soul does not remain a human soul in the
strict sense of the word but is replaced by some divine essence; following the
example of Moses, this state may be called the monad of pure soul, bordering
on divinization. However, once the divine frenzy is over the soul returns to its
prison, the human body.
What Philo describes here goes far beyond the biblical and postbiblical con-
cept of God revealing himself to the chosen seer and of the human hero ascend-
ing to heaven and obtaining a vision of God. To be sure, Philo sometimes uses
the traditional language of vision and ascent, but whereas the seer in the ascent
apocalypses no doubt ascended in his body and soul, Philo splits the unity of
body and soul and is only concerned with the fate of the soul as the better half of
human existence. Moreover, whereas the ancient seer approached the figure of
God seated on his throne in the uppermost heaven, Philo’s soul becomes trans-
formed into a divine essence and obtains a state that is completely different from
its entombed condition in the human body.
 Chapter 6

The Rabbis I
Approaching God through Exegesis

The imposition of direct Roman rule in the early first century CE sealed the end
of the political autonomy of the Jewish people, and the destruction of the Tem-
ple in 70 cE terminated the institution of the sacrifice, which had dominated
Jewish religious life for centuries. Out of this a power vacuum arose: the king-
ship was deeply compromised through Herod and his successors, as were the
nobility and the office of the high priest, and the priests lost most of their raison
d’étre. Slowly, and certainly not without resistance, a new group emerged lay-
ing claim to both the religious and political leadership of the Jews under Roman
supremacy — the rabbis, self-appointed heroes of what would become one of
the most fruitful and momentous periods of Jewish history. During the first five
centuries of the Christian era, from about 100 until about 600 cE, these rabbis,
with their two centers in Palestine and in Babylonia, created an enormous liter-
ary corpus (from the Mishnah and its companion, the Tosefta, to the Midrashim
and the Talmud in its twofold form of the Yerushalmi and the Bavli) that would
define the religious and cultural life of the Jews for centuries to come, up until
the modern period.
A mere glimpse at the literary output of the rabbis makes it immediately clear
they were not concerned with physically storming the heavens in order to get a
closer look at God. Theirs was not a world of ascents to heaven, so graphically
described in the ascent apocalypses. Nor did they envision themselves in liturgi-
cal communion with the angels, the ideal of the Qumran community; on the con-
trary, they did everything they could to play down the role of the angels, and they
made no secret of their conviction that human beings are actually superior to the
angels.' Nor did they aspire, with Philo, to abandon their body and have their
soul reunited with its divine origin. To be sure, they were equally determined to
get closer to their God, but their “vision” of approaching God was bound to study
and learning, the toilsome study of the Holy Scripture, not to ascent and rapture.
They perceived the reality of their entire existence — from trivial day-to-day
tasks to religious experiences — through the lens of their careful and inexhaust-

! See Schafer, Rivalitat, pp. 228 ff.

176 Chapter 6

ible exegeses of the Hebrew Bible. For them, reading the Bible properly meant
understanding their life better and exploring their relationship with God.
Reading the Bible the rabbis knew, of course, that the great prophets claimed
to have had visions of God, and they were certainly aware that individual he-
roes of the past were taken up by God into the heavens. Whereas with regard to
Elijah, the Bible makes fairly clear that he ascended to heaven in a “fiery chariot
(rekhev esh) with fiery horses” (2 Kings 2:11), it is much vaguer, as we have
seen, with regard to Enoch (Gen. 5:24), and hence left room for the rabbis to
deliberate on his fate. Moreover, nothing prevents us from assuming that they
were quite aware of the literature that had evolved around Enoch and his circle
or other figures of the past. Yet they opted to not promote or even to denigrate
these traditions, for whatever reason, focusing instead on the exegesis of the
received biblical texts. However, since they believed in the unity and integrity
of the biblical corpus as a whole (according to the tripartite canon that obtained
its final form during the second century CE), they could not ignore the fact that
their Bible contained some highly troubling pieces that gave rise to even more
troubling speculations. It will come as no surprise, then, that Ezekiel’s vision
of the divine chariot on the river Chebar (Ezek. 1 and 10) belongs to those sec-
tions regarded as problematic by the rabbis. Since the rabbis’ concern was not so
much private preoccupation with the Bible as its public reading and explanation,
it was primarily within the context of reading and expounding the Torah in the
synagogue service that biblical texts such as Ezek. 1/10 were discussed. I begin
my survey of the relevant rabbinic texts with the Mishnah and the Tosefta, the
nucleus around which almost all subsequent discussions revolved.”

Reading and Expounding the Torah

In tractate Megillah, the Mishnah determines the synagogue functions (reading

the Torah portion, translating the Torah portion into Aramaic, reciting the Shema,?

* All the relevant rabbinic passages have been thoroughly analyzed by David J. Halperin,
first in his excellent dissertation, published as The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature (New
Haven, CT: American Oriental Society, 1980), and later, in a much broader — and sometimes
idiosyncratic — context, in The Faces of the Chariot: Early Jewish Responses to Ezekiel’s Vi-
sion (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1988). Many of Halperin’s analyses and find-
ings, in particular in The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, are still valid today, and I grate-
fully acknowledge my debt to his pioneering work. Unlike Halperin, though, I am not trying
to reconstruct the supposedly “original” versions of the relevant passages and put them into an
“original” Sitz im Leben; rather, I attempt to follow their literary development in the Mishnah/
Tosefta and later on in the Yerushalmi and the Bavli. Yet in so doing I indeed wish to establish
a historical framework within which the literary evidence should be read.
3 The Hebrew is pores et/ ‘al ha-shema ‘: for the meaning of this phrase, see Marcus Jastrow,
A Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Litera-
 The Rabbis I 177

passing before the ark)* of a minor, a man in tattered clothes, and the blind.
With regard to the last category, the blind, it says anonymously: “A blind
man (is allowed to) recite the Shema and (to) translate (the Torah portion into
Aramaic)”> — obviously because both reciting the Shema and translating the Bible
text into Aramaic are performed orally, whereas the Torah must be read from
the written scroll (which is impossible for a blind person). To this anonymous
Mishnah, R. Yehudah responds: “One who has never seen (the) lights (me ’orot)°
in his life (miyyamaw) may not recite the Shema’””’ — presumably because the first
benediction before the Shema praises God as the creator of light (votzer or), and
the poor man, blind from birth, has never seen these lights. The Tosefta contin-
ues this dialogue between the anonymous Mishnah and R. Yehudah by adding:
“They said to him [R. Yehudah]: Many expounded the Merkavah (dareshu ba-
merkavah) and never saw it in their life.”*
No doubt, the anonymous Tosefta respondent to R. Yehudah (b. Ilai, a student
of R. Aqiva, hence from the middle of the second century CE) wants to support
the anonymous first Mishnah: just as many people expounded the Merkavah
without having ever actually seen it (and nobody objected to this practice), a
blind person may recite the blessing before the Shema without ever having seen
the light. Hence it is obvious that the halakhic ruling follows the anonymous
Mishnah and allows the blind man to recite the Shema in public (note that his
capacity in translating the Torah portion is not questioned). This is clear enough,
but what about the contents of the Tosefta’s objection: “Many expounded the
Merkavah and never saw it’? First of all, it deviates from the Mishnah con-
text because it does not deal with reading and translating the Torah or recit-
ing the Shema but with expounding or interpreting something. The Hebrew
phrase darash be- refers to the public exposition of the Torah portion read in the
synagogue,’ that is, the midrash or sermon following the Torah reading in the
synagogue service; therefore, dareshu ba-merkavah means: many expounded
publicly the Bible passage that is captured by the keyword “Merkavah.” The
connecting link between the Mishnah and the Tosefta is the public practice of
reciting the Shema and expounding the Merkavah.

The Merkabah
ture, 2 vols. (New York: Pardes, 1950), vol. 2, p. 1232, s.v.“paras”; Halperin,
in Rabbinic Literature, p. 173, n. 118.
s.v. “tevah.”
4 Hebrew: ‘over lifne ha-tevah: see Jastrow, Dictionary, vol. 2, p. 1643,
m Megillah 4:6.
The heavenly lights from Gen. 1:14-17.
m Megillah 4:6.
has me-‘olam
nn
on
t Megillah 3 (4):28: “in their life” (miyyemehem) in Ms. Erfurt; Ms. Vienna
“ever’).
part 1:
= aceon Bacher, Die exegetische Terminologie der jtidischen Traditionsliteratur,
Buchhandlung, 1899
Die bibelexegetische Terminologie der Tannaiten (Leipzig: Hinrichs’sche
[repr. 1965, Olms, Hildesheim]), p. 27.
 178 Chapter 6

What is it, then, that the Tosefta here refers to under the heading “Merkavah”?
Since it is by definition a passage from the Hebrew Bible, it can only be the
chapter with Ezekiel’s vision in the biblical book of Ezekiel (Ezek. 1 and 10).!°
Although the technical term merkavah for the divine chariot observed by Ezekiel
is not used in the book of Ezekiel (but kisse, “throne”),!! there can be no doubt
that it is precisely Ezekiel’s vision of the divine chariot that the rabbis summa-
rized under the heading “Merkavah.” So what the Tosefta reveals here in pass-
ing (because its subject is not the Merkavah at all) is the fact, first of all, that the
Merkavah — that is, Ezek. 1/10 — was often expounded in the synagogue, and
second, that expounding the Merkavah does not necessarily presuppose actually
seeing it: Ezekiel in his time saw the Merkavah, and now the rabbis expound
the biblical text reporting this visionary experience. In other words, the rab-
binic enterprise evidently reflects a second, derivative, if not third stage of the
affair — from Ezekiel’s experience to the biblical text to the rabbinic exposition
of the text. The rabbis are solely, and quite consciously, occupied with textual
exegeses, not with visionary experiences. It makes no sense, therefore, to see in
our Tosefta remark an echo of some mystical practice on the part of the rabbis.
As has already been pointed out by Halperin, the Tosefta unambiguously speaks
of the many who expounded the “Merkavah” and not of the many who attempted
to see the “Merkavah.”’!2
Finally, it needs to be emphasized that the Tosefta refers to “many.” This
casual remark can only mean that the custom of expounding the Merkavah was
widespread and uncontested. At least according to this particular Tosefta pas-
sage (we will soon see that the matter was not so plain and simple), nobody had
any problem with publicly interpreting Ezek. 1 (10); otherwise the Tosefta editor
would not have used it in the discussion with R. Yehudah. Therefore, our Tosefta
passage runs counter to the notion, expressed elsewhere, that the exegesis of
Ezek. | (as well as of other biblical texts, most prominently of Gen. 1) was
a
matter of esotericism, that is, an esoteric discipline reserved for a
small elite of
initiates.'’ Nothing supports such a theory; on the contrary, our Tosefta is
clear
evidence that at least at a certain stage in the history of rabbinic Judaism,
the
rabbis felt perfectly comfortable with exposing their audience to
an interpreta-
tion of Ezek. 1.
Unfortunately, this by no means settles the issue of public exposit
ion of
the Merkavah. As always with rabbinic literature, things are not
that easy and
'0 Ezekiel 1 became the Haftarah (reading from the prophets
) for the Shavu‘ot service; for
details, see Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature,
pp. 55 ff.
'' Tt appears in the noncanonical book Jesus Sirach as the
content of Ezekiel’s vision
(Sir. 49:8, Hebrew original). The rabbis were so well acquaint
ed with Jesus Sirach that they
often quote it as if they regarded it as canonical.
= Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 173;
idem, The Faces of the Chariot,
pole
'S See below, pp. 180 ff.
 The Rabbis I 179

straightforward. At the very end of its tractate Megillah, the Mishnah provides
a detailed list of problematic biblical passages and it rules that some of them
are to be read and translated (that is, publicly read in the synagogue and, after
being read in Hebrew, translated into Aramaic), while others are to be read but
not translated, and, the most restricted category, still others are not to be read
and not to be translated. The list follows the sequence of the questionable texts
in the Hebrew Bible:'4
— the story of Reuben (Gen. 35:22): read but not translated;
— the story of Tamar (Gen. 38): read and translated;
| the first story of the (Golden) Calf (Ex. 32:1—20): read and translated;
— the second story (of the Calf) (Ex. 32:21—25, 35): read but not translated;
— the blessing of the priests (Num. 6:24—26), the story of David (2 Sam. 11—
- 12) and Amnon (2 Sam. 13): not!> read and not translated.
After this carefully arranged list the Mishnah adds, in a clearly different style:
The Merkavah is not to be used as Haftarah.
R. Yehudah permits.
R. Eliezer says: “Declare to Jerusalem” (Ezek. 16:2) is not to be used as
Haftarah.'®

From this it is obvious that the Mishnah editor ruled against using Ezek. 1
and Ezek. 16:2 as a Haftarah, that is, against including the Ezekiel texts in the
prophetic portions to be publicly read in the synagogue. This decision plainly
contradicts the aforementioned anonymous dictum in the Tosefta (Megillah 3
[4]:28) that “many expounded the Merkavah.” The editor acknowledges, how-
ever, that there was opposition to this ruling (“R. Yehudah permits”).
That the public reading (and expounding) of Ezek. 1 must indeed have been
controversial becomes apparent when we look at the Tosefta parallel dealing
with the problematic biblical passages.'’ Not only is the Tosefta list much more
detailed (it includes, among other things, Gen. 1, so conspicuously left out in the
Mishnah) and more systematically arranged (it orders the passages according to
the categories “read and translated,” “read and not translated,” and “not read and
not translated”), with regard to Ezek. 1 it declares precisely the opposite of the
Mishnah. At the very end of the category “read and translated” it simply states:
Ezek. 1
“The Merkavah is read to the public”;!* that is, according to the Tosefta,

“The Rabbinic Lists

14 m Megillah 4:10. On this famous passage, see Philip S. Alexander,
The Merkabah in Rabbinic
of Forbidden Targumim,” JJS 27 (1976), pp. 177-191; Halperin,
Literature, pp. 39 ff.
in Rab-
15 For the variant readings in the Mishnah manuscripts see Halperin, The Merkabah
binic Literature, p. 40, n. 80.
16 m Megillah 4:10.
in b Megillah 25a-b.
17 t Megillah 3 (4):31-38; a very close parallel is the Baraitha
18 t Megillah 3 (4):34.
 180 Chapter 6

is perfectly legitimate as a Haftarah. In other words, our Tosefta editor is consist-

ent with his previous remark that “many expounded the Merkavah.”
In terms of our context, it is hardly necessary to undertake a close comparison
of the parallel versions of our list in the Mishnah, the Tosefta, and the Baraitha
in the Bavli. (To make things even more complicated, the Baraitha in the Bavli,
which is overall very similar to the Tosefta, completely excludes the Merkavah.)
Halperin, who has meticulously compared the three versions,!? suggests a certain
development from an older version preserved in the Bavli Baraitha (no mention
of the Merkavah, hence no doubts whatsoever as to the suitability of Ezek. 1 for
public reading) through an intermediate stage in the Tosefta (the suitability was
questioned and had to be explicitly affirmed) to a final stage in the Mishnah (pub-
lic reading of Ezek. | is categorically forbidden). I feel very uncomfortable with
any such interpretation that imposes on the rabbinic sources a linear historical
development from A through B to C,”° and I am quite content with the observa-
tion that the public reading and exposition of Ezek. 1 was a contested area about
which the rabbis patently disagreed. What can be said about our sources, though,
is that the more lenient attitude toward the use of Ezek. 1 is reserved for the
Tosefta, whereas the Mishnah seems to follow — or rather attempts to enforce —a
stricter position. In other words, we possess clear and undeniable evidence that
some rabbis had no qualms about reading and interpreting Ezek. 1 (and related
texts), whereas others, who ultimately carried the day, saw in the public use of
Ezek. 1 a potential danger that needed to be addressed.2! But the dissent was
about how to deal with certain passages from the Bible in a public synagogue
setting (reading and expounding), nothing more and nothing less, and there is no
indication in our texts of a discussion as to whether or not such passages could
or should be used as recipes for mystical experiences.
The restricted and cautious approach to the Merkavah in the Mishnah finds
its affirmation in yet another Mishnah dictum that has become the cornerstone
of all subsequent rabbinic discussions of the Merkavah, the famous Mishnah in
Hagigah 2:1:
Forbidden sexual relations may not be expounded (en doreshin ba-‘arayot)””
by/to”’ three,
nor the work of creation (ma ‘aseh bereshit) by/to two,

'9 Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 39-63.

*0 Halperin, ibid., p. 51, has his own reservations.
*I This deliberately sober and careful statement should not be
identified with Halperin’s
imaginative picture of the Merkavah as being happily expounded
at first, during the feast of
Shavu‘ot, to huge crowds of people in the Synagogue and then
being suppressed by the grim
editors of the Mishnah (The Faces of the Chariot, pp. 11-37).
* Lit. “One does not expound ‘arayot.”
*3 Here and in the following two cases all Mishnah manuscripts
have the preposition be-
(“by”); only Ms. Cambridge reads /e- (“to”); see Halperin, The
Merkabah in Rabbinic Litera-
ture; pa lilemes:
 The Rabbis I 181

nor the Merkavah by/to an individual, unless he is wise [a scholar] and

understands** on his own.
Anyone who gazes at (mistakkel be-)*> four things, it would be merciful to/
fitting for him?° if he had not come into the world:
what is above (/ema ‘lan) and what below (/emattan),
what is before (/efanim) and what after (/e ‘ahor).
Anyone who has no concern for the honor of his creator (kevod qono), it
would be merciful to/fitting for him if he had not come into the world.

This Mishnah is fraught with difficulties, and almost every word has received
heaps of interpretations.’” I won’t go into all the details here but will focus on
those aspects essential to our present context. Let me first state some assump-
tions that I accept, following previous scholarship, without further discussion:
The three components of this Mishnah were originally independent units that
were spliced together by an editor for reasons not entirely clear. The key word
that gave rise to their inclusion in Mishnah Hagigah is ‘arayot, because the
previous Mishnah (Hagigah 1:8) concludes with Halakhot regarding forbidden
sexual relations. Although this insight fails to further our understanding of the
contents of Hagigah 2:1, it does explain why Hagigah 2:1 begins with ‘arayot.
The three topics mentioned in the first unit all refer to biblical passages: “for-
bidden sexual relations” to Lev. 18 and 20, the “work of creation” to Gen. 1 (and
2), and “Merkavah” to Ezek. 1 (and 10). Hence what is at stake here is clearly
some exegetical activity, the exposition of these problematic biblical passages
(as is made clear by the technical term doresh be-, which we already encountered
in the Tosefta). The second and the third units most likely deal with the question
of creation alone: “what is above and what below” would seem to refer to above
and below the earth, that is, heaven and the Netherworld, hence to cosmology;
and “what is before and what after” apparently alludes to the temporal dimension
will
of creation — what is or rather was before the zero hour of creation, and what
(eschatology). The third unit either concludes
be after creation comes to an end
restric-
both the first and the second unit (woe betide those who do not heed the
unit. The language (“anyone who,” “it
tions of the Mishnah) or just the second
come into the world”) and the
would be merciful to/fitting for him if he had not

n have “and has under-

24 So Mss. Cambridge and Munich; Mss. Parma and Kaufman
stood.”
Rabbinic Literature, pp. 12f.,
25 Or “who contemplates”; see Halperin, The Merkabah in
n. 10.
p. 12, n. 7.
26 The manuscripts vary between ratui lo and ra’ui lo; see ibid.,
, ibid., pp. 19ff., and The Faces of the Chariot,
27 Most usefully summarized by Halperin
pp. 23 ff.
 182 Chapter 6

explicit mention of the “honor of the creator” make the latter possibility more
likely,”® but I do not whish to rule out the first one (see below).
But what precisely is the exegetical activity that the Mishnah has in mind?
If we follow the better attested doreshin be- version, it restricts the number of
those engaged in such an activity from (not) three to (not) two to (not) one,
hence, in an increasingly stricter order, from forbidden sexual relations to crea-
tion to finally the Merkavah: forbidden sexual relations may not be expounded
by three — but by two; the work of creation may not be expounded by two — but
by one; and the Merkavah may not be even expounded by one — unless he is
wise and understands on his own. This reading is made explicit in the Tosefta
parallel to our Mishnah:
Forbidden sexual relations may not be expounded by three — but they may be
expounded by two;
nor the work of creation by two — but it may be expounded by an individual;
nor the Merkavah by an individual — unless he is wise, understanding on his
own.??
Whereas the doreshin be- version leaves open the setting in which the exposi-
tion of the three Bible passages takes place — it is primarily concerned with the
number of people engaged in such an activity (two, one, nobody — unless ... ) —
the doreshin le- version obviously has a teacher-student relationship in mind:
forbidden sexual relations may not be expounded (by a teacher) to three (stu-
dents) — but to two; the work of creation may not be expounded (by a teacher) to
two — but to one; and the Merkavah may not be expounded (by a teacher) even to
one — unless the student is wise and understands on his own. However, I would
not lay too much emphasis on the difference between the two versions,*° since
the doreshin be- version can also be easily understood as referring to a teacher-
student setting: X may not be expounded — under the instruction of a teacher
— by
three students but by two, Y not by two students but by one, Z not even
by one
student, unless he is wise and does not really need the teacher’s instruction.?!
If this interpretation is correct, our Mishnah in Hagigah shifts the focus
from
a synagogue setting (Megillah) to a teacher-student scenario. This
is not to say
that the latter excludes the synagogue, but the emphasis now is
not so much on
reading and interpreting these biblical passages in the context of
synagogue wor-
ship as within the framework of rabbis teaching their students.
Now, the point

*8 Bereshit Rabbah 1:5 also speaks of the honor of God in

relationship to the creation of
the world.
* t Hagigah 2:1 (my emphases).
; ay Halperin, in my view, overinterprets this difference,
claiming that the doreshin be- ver-
sion ultimately aims at prohibiting private study of the
Merkavah (The Merkabah in Rabbinic
Literature, p. 35).
3! This is precisely the way in which the subsequent
rabbinic tradition understands the
Tosefta.
 The Rabbis I 183

is not whether or not such passages may be publicly read and expounded in the
synagogue; rather, our Mishnah is concerned with restricting knowledge of these
biblical texts to a limited circle of particularly qualified students. In other words,
Mishnah Hagigah turns the subjects of forbidden sexual relationships, creation,
and the Merkavah into an esoteric discipline, open only to a chosen elite of very
few.*? This is clearly a trend that was followed in the later rabbinic traditions
evolving around our Mishnah. It needs to be reemphasized, however, that this
esoteric discipline remains concerned with the proper exegesis of problematic
biblical texts and not with some kind of ecstatic experience.
It has long been observed by scholars that the Mishnah’s attempt to restrict
access to certain biblical passages reflects an anxiety about such texts that was
more widespread and not limited to Jewish circles. The Church Father Origen
_ of Caesarea (ca. 185-253 CE) in his commentary on the Song of Songs provides
us with a list of problematic texts that contains two of the three passages men-
tioned in our Mishnah:
It is said that the custom of the Jews is that no one who has not reached full maturity
is permitted to hold this book [Son of Songs] in his hands. And not only this, but al-
though their teachers and sages (doctores et sapientes) are wont to teach all the scrip-
tures (omnes scripturas) as well as [the texts] that they call deuteroseis to the young
boys, they defer to the last (ad ultimum) the following four [texts]: the beginning of
Genesis. where the creation of the world is described; the beginnings of the prophet
Ezekiel, where (the story) of the Cherubim is told (in quibus de Cherubin refertur); the
end (of the same book) which contains (the description of) the building of the (future)
Temple; and this book of the Song of Songs.”*

32 | do not concern myself here with the Mishnah’s rationale for attaching the particular
one),
numbers to particular subjects (forbidden sexual relations: three, creation: two, Merkavah:
conclusion that the starting point of our Mishnah is the Merkavah
but I agree with Halperin’s
two and
(with one) and that the Mishnah editor attached to the two other subjects the numbers
the order that he believed to be commensur ate with the issue’s importance ; see Halp-
three in
erin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 36.
a Graeca, ed.
33 Origen, “Commentarium in Cant. Canticorum Prologus,” in Patrologi
: Origene, Commen-
Migne, vol. XIII (Paris, 1857), cols. 63 f.; Latin text with French translation
de Rufin, introduction,
taire sur le Cantique des Cantiques, vol. 1: Texte de la Version Latine
notes par Luc Brésard et Henri Crouzel, avec la collaborat ion de Marcel Borret
traduction et
n: Origen: The Song of Songs. Commentary
(Paris: Cerf, 1991), pp. 84-87; English translatio
, Green and Co, 1957),
and Homilies (Westminster, MD: Newman Press; London: Longmans
Latina, ed. Migne, vol. XXV
p. 23. This information is confirmed by Jerome, in Patrologia
some deviations, that of Scholem
(Paris 1845), col. 17C. My translation of Origen follows, with
French and the English translation,
in his Jewish Gnosticism, p. 38. 1 disagree with both the
differentl y (“while at the same time the four that
which interpret the syntax of the Latin sentence
is ... should be reserved for study till the last”), understanding deuteroseis
they call deuterdse
Oral Torah (see the following note). On this passage, see
as part of the Scripture and not of the
Nicholas R.M. de Lange, Origen and the Jews: Studies in Jewish-Christian Relations in
also
y Press, 1976), p. 60.
Third-Century Palestine (Cambridge: Cambridge Universit
184 Chapter 6

Origen conveys here, in passing, some important information about the Jew-
ish curriculum of his time, that is, in the first half of the third century, and most
likely from firsthand experience in Caesarea (in 231 CE he moved permanently to
Caesarea, one of the major Jewish centers in Palestine): young Jewish boys are
instructed in “all the scriptures” (obviously all the books of the Hebrew Bible)
as well as in the deuterdseis (presumably all the Jewish traditions outside of the
Hebrew Bible, collectively assembled under the heading deuterdsis — lit. “of sec-
ond rank”).34 But Origen also points out that certain biblical texts are excluded
from this standard curriculum or, more precisely, are deferred “to the last,” that
is, to an age at which the students have reached full maturity:*° Gen. 1, Ezek. 1
(10), Ezek. 40-48, and the book of the Song of Songs in its entirety. If Origen
indeed had some reliable information about the Jews of his time, why then are
Ezek. 40-48 and the Song of Songs not included in our Mishnah list? Here we
can only speculate. With regard to the Song of Songs, the most likely explana-
tion is that by interpreting this book as an allegory of love between God and his
people of Israel, the rabbis were taking the necessary precaution of making it less
dangerous for their audience — but that the unguided exegesis of the book could
nevertheless yield some unwarranted results.*° As far as Ezek. 40-48 is con-
cerned, it is apparent that these chapters, which deal with the rebuilding of the
eschatological Temple, “could have been linked to apocalyptic speculations,”>”
and we know only too well that the rabbis were not particularly prone to such
speculations. But other, potentially even more dangerous passages leading to
apocalyptic speculations (such as Daniel) are also not included in the Mishnah
list. Hence, whereas Origen clearly reflects some rabbinic reservations and mis-
givings about the exegesis of certain biblical passages, the reason for these mis-
givings could have varied.
This leads us finally to the question: What, then, is the danger that the rabbis
saw in an unguided or misguided exegesis of the biblical passages that deal with
forbidden sexual relations, creation of the world, and the Merkavah? I am less
concerned with the first subject, forbidden sexual relations, because I believe it
was added to the list for the purpose of integrating it in Mishnah Hagigah.** The
crucial subjects are the creation and the Merkavah — also covered by Origen. If
we take seriously the Mishnah’s own explanation in the third of its three units,
we do then have an explanation as to why the rabbis were troubled by the pos-

4 The singular deuterdsis refers to the Mishnah (as second in rank to the Bible), whereas the
plural deuterdseis seems to refer to the corpus of the oral Jewish tradition as a whole.
°° Origen does not bother to tell us what age this is, but Jerome is more precise on this point:
the thirtiest year is the perfecta aetas of human beings, and “from the thirtiest [year] on the
priests begin to serve in the Temple” (Jerome, Commentaria in Ezechielem 1:1, in Patrologia
Latina, ed. Migne, vol. XXV [Paris 1845], col. 17C).
* Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 38.
37 Scholem, ibid.
38 See above, p. 181.
 The Rabbis I 185

sible outcome of an exegesis at least of Genesis, but probably also of Ezek. 1

(if we understand the third unit as concluding both the first and the second units
of the Mishnah). At stake here is God’s honor, and this indeed is the common
denominator in the rabbis’ anxiety about Gen. 1 and Ezek. 1: those who do not
follow the Mishnah’s restrictions may impugn God’s honor, that is, in the case
of Gen. 1, by not strictly limiting themselves to the creation — as described in
the Bible — but by extending their undesirable curiosity to encompass the entire
cosmic sphere (beyond the created world) and to the time before the beginning
of creation and after the end of the world. And in the case of Ezek. 1? Quite lit-
erally, in expounding Ezek. 1, one “looks” at what is “above,” namely at God’s
throne in the heaven above the created world, and this is deemed a dangerous
enterprise, because such unrestrained curiosity could damage God’s glory. (I am
deliberately playing here with the double meaning of the Hebrew word kavod,
connoting both “honor” and “glory.”)
This, I believe, is what Mishnah Hagigah is primarily concerned about — that
improper, unbridled exegesis of Gen 1 and Ezek. 1 may infringe on God’s pri-
vacy, so to speak, God’s own sovereign realm, spatially and temporally, and
that such an exegesis might bring one too close to God, in any event, too close
to accommodate the rabbis’ sense of decency. Obsessed as they were with the
exegesis of the Holy Scripture, the rabbis were only too aware of the dangers of
their obsession, and thus erected another fence around the Torah — not the pro-
verbial halakhic fence but a theological fence that made clear to their students:
just so far and no farther, at least for most of you fellows!

The Cycle of Seven Stories

Immediately following its repetition of the first Mishnah unit, the Tosefta
presents a cycle of seven additional units,2? not preserved in the Mishnah, that
are obviously meant to illustrate the mishnaic principle of en doreshin, set up
in m/t Hagigah 2:1. These stories appear also in both the Yerushalmi and the
Bavli (except for two that are missing in the Bavli), although in quite a different
order and with remarkable alterations. I will first analyze each of these seven
units separately, comparing the versions in all three documents, since it would be
naive to assume that the earliest version should be preserved in the Tosefta and
do believe
the latest in the Bavli, with the Yerushalmi in the middle. Rather, I
Mishnah’s restriction was
(with Halperin) that the cycle of stories following the
a version of an
not composed by the editor of the Tosefta but that there existed
earlier collection on which the editors of the Tosefta as well as of the Yerushalmi

the “mystical col-

39 Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 65 ff., calls them
.”
lection,” without ever making clear what precisely he means by “mystical
186 Chapter 6

and the Bavli drew as a common source.*° Having said this, however, we must
be aware that reconstructing such presumed earlier versions and the stages of
their development is a most delicate enterprise and a tightrope walk between
sheer guesswork and sound assumptions. Although there can be no doubt that
versions of stories appearing in later documents may contain earlier elements
than the same story in an earlier document has cared to preserve, to prove this
postulate remains a difficult task — and it certainly does not mean that we have
carte blanche to read freely and without restraint later elements into earlier ver-
sions. Moreover, I am aware that any such selective procedure that looks at our
seven stories as isolated and self-contained units (following the sequence of the
Tosefta) fails to do justice to the overall structure in which they appear in the
Yerushalmi and the Bavli. In chapter 7 I address this important aspect, which has
been largely ignored by previous scholarship.

1. Yohanan b. Zakkai and Eleazar b. Arakh: Teacher and Student

The first unit — introduced as a ma ‘aseh, that is, a case story that, according to
the Mishnah’s taxonomy, is supposed to underline and illustrate the preceding
halakhic ruling — provides us with the teacher-student setting that is presumably
presupposed in the Mishnah (the Tosefta clearly understands the Mishnah this
way):*!
There is a case story regarding (ma ‘aseh be-) Rabban Yohanan b. Zakkai, who was
mounted on the ass, and R. Eleazar b. Arakh was serving as ass-driver after him.
He [Eleazar b. Arakh] said to him [Yohanan b. Zakkai]: Rabbi, teach me (sheneh li)”
one chapter of the work of the Merkavah (ma ‘aseh merkavah).
He [Yohanan b. Zakkai] said to him [Eleazar b. Arakh]: Did I not say to you from the
beginning: The Merkavah may not be taught (en shonin ba-merkavah)* to an individ-
ual, unless he is wise [a scholar], understanding on his own?
He [Eleazar b. Arakh] said to him [Yohanan b. Zakkai]: Very well then,“ I will lecture
(artzeh) before you!*
He [Yohanan b. Zakkai] said to him [Eleazar b. Arakh]: Speak.*°
R. Eleazar b. Arakh commenced and expounded the work of the Merkavah (patah ...
we-darash be-ma‘aseh merkavah).

40 Tbid., p. 104.
“| t Hagigah 2:1. I follow the Vienna manuscript and refer to the Erfurt manuscript where
necessary.
® Ms. Erfurt: “expound to me” (derosh li).
4 Ms. Erfurt: “the Merkavah may not be expounded” (en doreshin ba-merkavah).
“4 That is what the Hebrew me-‘attah here means: If there is such a restriction, I will dem-
onstrate that I am one of those who understand on their own.
“° Ms. Erfurt: “Give me permission, and I will lecture before you.”
“© This and the following sentence are missing in Ms. Erfurt.
 The Rabbis I 187

Rabban Yohanan b. Zakkai descended from the ass and wrapped himself*’ in his
cloak,*® and the two of them sat upon a stone under the olive tree, and he [Eleazar b.
Arakh] lectured (hirtzah) before him.
He [Yohanan b. Zakkai] arose, kissed him [Eleazar b. Arakh] on his head and said:
Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who gave a son to Abraham, our father, who
knows to understand (/ehavin) and to expound (lidrosh) the glory (kavod) of our Fa-
ther in heaven. There are those who expound (doresh) properly but do not practice
(megqayyem), those who practice properly but do not expound properly, yet Eleazar b.
Arakh expounds properly and practices properly. Happy are you, Abraham our father,
that Eleazar b. Arakh has gone forth from your loins, who knows to understand and to
expound to the glory (/ikhevod)*” of our Father in heaven.

Rabban Yohanan b. Zakkai is well known as one of the heroes of rabbinic Juda-
ism, most notably because of his major role in reorganizing Judaism after the
destruction of the Second Temple. He had gathered around him a circle of five
famous students, among them Eleazar b. Arakh, his favorite disciple,°° and this
story clearly underlines the prominent position enjoyed by Eleazar b. Arakh. The
subject no doubt is the exegesis of Ezek. 1 — in using the phrase “the work of the
Merkavah” (instead of just “Merkavah”), the Tosefta editor presumably adapts to
the similar phrase “the work of creation,” and in using the word “teach” (shanah)
instead of “expound” (darash), the scribe of the Vienna manuscript emphasizes
the teacher-student setting. The student demands from his teacher instruction
in the exegesis of Ezek. 1, and the rabbi duly answers with the Mishnah’s pro-
hibition of expounding the Merkavah. The student prodigy boldly applies the
Mishnah’s loophole (“unless he is a scholar of his own”) to himself and declares
that despite the rabbi’s and the Mishnah’s warning, he will nevertheless proceed
with his own exegesis. Yohanan b. Zakkai complies with his student’s wish, and
they both sit down under a tree, the rabbi wrapped in his cloak. When the student
is finished, the pleased teacher gives him a solemn blessing and happily declares
that his student is indeed one of those who understand on their own because he is
among the very few who know to expound and practice the Scripture properly. In
particular, he is a true descendant of Abraham because he knows how to expound
Ezek. 1, that is, without infringing on the glory and honor of God.
story is
The teacher’s verbose blessing at the end cannot belie the fact that the
the student’s exegesis . We, the readers,
completely silent regarding the content of
exclu-
are taught the lesson that the exposition of the Merkavah is indeed a most
Mishnah wishes us to believe.
sive and mysterious enterprise — precisely as the
to underline the
Hence, within the Tosefta framework, the story clearly sets out
guarante es that the
Mishnah’s ruling about the exegesis of Ezek. 1. Yet nothing

47 Ms. Erfurt: “they wrapped themselves.”

48 Lit. “prayer-shawl.”
49 Ms. Erfurt: “the glory” (bikhevod).
R. Yose ha-Kohen (the
50 m Avot 2:8f.: R. Eliezer b. Hyrkanus, R. Yehoshua b. Hananyah,
priest), R. Shim‘on b. Netan’el, and R. Eleazar b. Arakh.
188 Chapter 6

Tosefta version of the story is the “original” version, in other words, that some
earlier (and fuller) version was not used and edited by the Tosefta editor in order
to adapt it to the strict ruling of the Mishnah. In fact, we do have a fuller version
of our story preserved in both the Yerushalmi and the Bavli, along with some
remarkable details left out in the Tosefta. There is no way to prove whether or
not this fuller version also reflects an earlier stage of the story’s development,
but there is reason to believe that at least the first addition may have belonged to
a more “original” rendering. It relates to the section of the story in which Elea-
zar b. Arakh begins his exposition of the Merkavah. The Tosefta version is un-
clear or even garbled because, when Yohanan b. Zakkai gives him permission
to speak, it states that Eleazar began expounding the Merkavah and that then,
somehow unmotivated, Yohanan descended from his ass. Both the Yerushalmi
and the Bavli are much more coherent:
When R. Eleazar b. Arakh opened his discourse concerning the work of the Merkavah,
Rabban Yohanan b. Zakkai descended from the ass. He said [to Eleazar b. Arakh]: It is
not fitting that I should hear the glory of my creator (kevod goni), while I am mounted
on the ass.
They went and sat down under a tree. And fire descended from heaven and surrounded
them. And the ministering angels were jumping (meqappetzin) before them, like a wed-
ding party rejoicing before the bridegroom. One angel answered from the midst of the
fire and said: In accordance with your words, Eleazar b. Arakh, so is the work of the
Merkavah. Immediately all the trees opened their mouths and uttered song: Then all
the trees of the forest shall shout with joy (Ps. 96:12).>!

We do not get here either any information about the content of Eleazar’s exposi-
tion of the Merkavah, but we do hear more about what happens if someone does
it properly: fire surrounds him, the angels jump up and down before him, one
angel approves of the successful exegesis, and then all the trees (that is, the sur-
rounding nature) burst into applause.°” Only after this heavenly approval of his
student’s efforts does the rabbi himself approve of the exegesis.
It has long been observed that some of the miraculous circumstances accom-
panying Eleazar’s successful exposition of the Merkavah are reminiscent of the
revelation of the Torah on Mount Sinai as described in the Bible.» According to
Ex. 19:18 f., God descended upon Mount Sinai in fire, and when Moses spoke
to him, “God answered him with a voice,” or, according to Deut. 5:4, God spoke
with the people of Israel “face to face ... on the mountain, out of the fire.” In our

°! y Hagigah 2:1/9f., fol. 77a (Ms. Leiden). The Bavli (Hagigah 14b) is even smoother:
after Yohanan b. Zakkai gives his permission to Eleazar b. Arakh to speak, he immediately de-
scends from his ass, and the student asks him, why did you do this? and only thereafter does
the student begin his exegesis.
° The Bavli, in its typical sober attitude, wants to know precisely what song the trees did
utter; the answer: Ps. 148:7, 9, 14. -
°3 See the summary in Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 128 ff.
 The Rabbis I 189

story it is not God who answers from the midst of the fire but an angel — yet this is
clearly as close to a divine appearance (theophany) as our rabbinic authors dare
go (and we should not forget that in the Bible the “angel of God” often stands
for God himself). So what happens in our Yerushalmi and Bavli versions of the
story is that R. Eleazar’s successful exposition of the Merkavah causes fire to
descend from heaven and with it a group of angels, among them one (special?)
angel who responds from the midst of the fire and approves of the student’s ex-
egesis. I do not think it necessary, as Halperin proposes,‘ to reconstruct here a
reenactment of the revelation on Mount Sinai during the Shavu ‘ot festival in the
synagogue (positing, with not much evidence, the exposition of the Merkavah
as a Shavu‘ot Haftarah); rather, we are dealing with a tradition that associates
elements of the “original” revelation of the Torah on Mount Sinai with any suc-
cessful interpretation of the Torah (in the widest sense of the word): when the
rabbis do their job properly, that is, expound the Torah correctly, God responds
with a reenactment of the revelation on Mount Sinai — he returns, through his
fire and angels, to the earth and confirms the rabbinic exposition.
That the exegesis of Ezek. 1 is but one example of such a “correct” and di-
vinely approved rabbinic interpretation of the Torah (although an outstanding
one) becomes clear from the passages in which the successful “stringing to-
gether” of biblical verses from the three parts of the Hebrew Bible (the Torah,
the Prophets, and the Writings) is accompanied by heavenly fire. Ina collection
of stories about the arch-heretic Elisha b. Avuyah (Aher), the Yerushalmi relates
that at the celebration of Elisha’s circumcision, R. Eliezer and R. Yehoshua, two
other students of Yohanan b. Zakkai, were among the many guests. While the
other guests were busy with dancing, the two rabbis occupied themselves “with
the words of the Torah: from the Torah to the Prophets, and from the prophets
to the Writings, and fire came down from heaven and surrounded them.” When
the frightened host fears for his house, they calm him:
from
God forbid, we were just sitting and stringing together®> the words of the Torah:
to the Writings, and the words (of the
the Torah to the Prophets, and from the Prophets
day when they were given from Sinai, and the fire was lick-
Bible) rejoiced as on the
) from
ing them [the words of the Bible] as it was licking them (when they descended
Sinai.*°
“Your
A very similar interpretation is provided as an exegesis of Cant. 1:10:
, your neck with strings of jewels (haruzim) ”:
cheeks are comely with ornaments
stringin g together (horezi m) from the words of
“When they [some rabbis] were
Prophet s to the Writings , the fire flashed
the Torah to the Prophets and from the

ff.
54 Halperin, The Faces of the Chariot, pp. 16
(“stringing together’) as
55 Hozerin (“turning to”), most likely to be corrected to horezin
ogie, vol. 1, p. 65.
suggested by Bacher, Exegetische Terminol
56 y Hagigah 2:1/20f., fol. 7b.
190 Chapter 6

around them and the words rejoiced as on the day when they were given from
Sinai.”57 Hence, proper exegesis complements and completes the revelation of
the Written Torah on Mount Sinai: since the rabbis are the standard-bearers and
guardians of the Oral Torah, their exegesis brings about the same phenomena as
did the revelation of the Written Torah — fire (and angels) as signs of God’s ap-
proval. Or, to put it differently, adequate exegesis — connecting the three parts of
the Hebrew Bible and, in particular, explaining such dangerous passages as Gen.
1 and Ezek. 1 (10) — brings heaven close to earth again, if not God back down.
This is our rabbis’ version of the ascent to heaven.** They do not attempt to go
up to the heavenly realm; rather, they communicate with their creator through
the exposition of Scripture — they achieve communion with God through ex-
egesis.>”
Both the Yerushalmi and Bavli present us with yet another addition to the
Tosefta version of the story about Yohanan b. Zakkai and his student Eleazar b.
Arakh. It is attached to the very end of the story, after Yohanan’s blessing. I quote
first the Yerushalmi version:
When R. Joseph ha-Kohen and R. Shim‘on b. Netan’el heard (this), they also initiated
discourse concerning the work of the Merkavah (patehu be-ma‘aseh ha-merkavah).
They said it was a summer day,“ and the earth shook (ra ‘ashah ha-aretz) and the rain-
bow (ha-qgeshet) was seen in the cloud. And a heavenly voice (bat go/) went forth and
said to them: The place is ready for you, and the dining couch®! is spread out for you.
You and your students are invited into the third class (kat shelishit).®

°7 Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah 1:53 (on Cant. 1:10).

°8 See also Arnold Goldberg, “Der Vortrag des Ma’ase Merkawa: Eine Vermutung zur frii-
hen Merkawamystik,” in idem, Mystik und Theologie des rabbinischen Judentums: Gesammelte
Studien I, ed. Margarete Schliiter and Peter Schafer (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), p. 15:
“Von einer Himmelsreise, wie sie Jordej-Merkawa praktizierten, ist hier noch nichts zu erken-
nen, auch nicht von einer Entriickung in den Himmel, wie bei den Apokalyptikern.”
°° Interestingly enough, the story in Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah continues as follows (parallel
in Wayyiqra Rabbah 16:4):
Once as Ben Azzai sat and expounded, the fire (played) round him. They went and told R.
Akiva: Rabbi, Ben Azzai sits and expounds, and the fire is flashing round him. He [Aqiva]
went to him and said to him: I hear that as you were expounding, the fire flashed round you.
He replied: That is so. He [Aqiva] said to him: Were you perhaps occupied with the chambers
of the Merkavah (hadrei merkavah)? No, he replied, I was only sitting and stringing together
(horez) the words of the Torah — from the Torah to the Prophets and from the Prophets to the
Writings, and the words rejoiced as when they were given from Sinai, and they were sweet
as at their original utterance.
Here we find, put into the mouth of R. Aqiva, a move toward the “chambers of the Merkavah,”
that is, to what is technically called Merkavah mysticism.
°° Lit. “a day in the Tammuz season,” that is, a particularly hot and cloudless day.
°! Teriglin, from Greek triklinon = Latin triclinium, the dining room with couches for dining
or the dining couch as pars pro toto-for the dining room.
62 The Hebrew kat means “class,” “section,” or “company.”
 The Rabbis I 19]

This accords with the opinion of him who says: A plenitude (sova ‘) of joys with your
face (Ps. 16:11) — seven (sheva’‘) classes (kittot) of righteous (are there) in the mes-
sianic future (/e- ‘atid la-vo’).©
R. Joseph ha-Kohen and R. Shim‘on b. Netan’el are among the five favorite
students of Rabban Yohanan b. Zakkai, and this is clearly the reason why this
presumably originally independent story was added here. The framework of the
mishnaic restriction regarding the exposition of the Merkavah either has disap-
peared or was never there to begin with, depending on whether one wants to read
this story as a post- or premishnaic composition. Again, the listener/reader is
not deemed worthy of learning any of the content of the two rabbis’ Merkavah
exegesis, but we are given some important new details: the setting (a hot sum-
mer day) and the heavenly voice. As to the former, our story makes the point
that despite it being the peak of the hot summer season — when no clouds and
certainly no rain are expected in Palestine — a rainbow miraculously appeared in
the clouds, no doubt after some heavy rain. The most likely explanation for this
detail is that it alludes to Ezek. 1:28, the very end of Ezekiel’s vision: “Like the
appearance of the (rain)bow (ha-qeshet) that is in the cloud on a rainy day, such
was the appearance of the surrounding radiance (nogah). That was the appear-
ance of the figure (demut) of the Glory of YHWH (kevod-YHWH).” Also, the
shaking of the earth that, together with the rainbow, accompanies the apparently
successful exposition of the two students may have well been taken from the
imagery of Ezekiel’s vision: the sound (go/) of the wings of the four creatures
that Ezekiel hears (1:24) is later described, when he departs from his vision on
the river Chebar, as a “great roaring noise” (gol ra‘ash gadol) (3:12 he
The same is true, I presume, of the heavenly voice (bat qo/) that the two stu-
dents hear. Halperin glosses over the Yerushalmi version and prefers the Bavli
version (see below), but it is only too obvious that the Yerushalmi here reflects
the divine voice that Ezekiel hears when the four creatures stand still and let their
wings drop: “There was a sound (qo/) from above the expanse that was over
it
their heads; when they stood still, they let their wings drop” (Ezek. 1:25). Yet
is certainly not a vision or audition that is taking place in the Yerushalmi — the
d
divine voice that Ezekiel encounters on the Chebar canal has been transforme
prophecy.® The
into the bat gol, that notorious rabbinic substitute for genuine
success-
shaking of the earth, the rainbow, and the bat gol approve of the rabbis’
t of
ful exposition of Ezek. 1; they are not elements of a successful reenactmen

.
63 y Hagigah 2:1/12, fol. 77a.
I prefer this explanation
64 With Halperin (The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 128),
ng the shaking of the earth to the revelatio n on Mount Sinai (although both may be
to connecti
implied).
m: Untersuchungen zur Bat
65 See Peter Kuhn, Offenbarungsstimmen im antiken Judentu
Phdnome nen (Tiibing en: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1989).
Qol und verwandten
192 Chapter 6

Ezekiel’s Merkavah experience (or, to put it differently, the exegesis of Ezek. 1

is the rabbinic reenactment of Ezekiel’s experience).
This interpretation is confirmed by what the bat gol assures the two rabbis of:
a secured place in the heavenly dining hall, no doubt meaning a secured place in
paradise after their death. That the righteous will enjoy a heavenly banquet is a
standard rabbinic promise, but what precisely does the Yerushalmi have in mind
when it has the bat gol assign the happy rabbis to a place in the third class of
the righteous? The explanation added by the Yerushalmi editor refers to another
midrash, which is preserved in a number of rabbinic texts. The version in Way-
yikra Rabbah reads: “Another explanation (on): A plenitude (sova ‘) of joys with
your face (Ps. 16:11) — do not read sova‘ (“plenitude”) but sheva‘ (“seven”):
these are the seven classes (kittot) of righteous who in the (messianic) future
will be permitted to receive the face of the Shekhinah.”*’ It is evident that the
Yerushalmi editor, who added the midrash on Ps. 16:11, was referring to this or
a similar tradition. However, this does not yet explain the very specific alloca-
tion to the third class of righteous that our rabbis enjoy. This is made explicit in
another midrash, which seems to be quite early:
Seven classes (Kittot) of righteous are one on top of the other in paradise (gan
‘eden):
The first: Surely the righteous shall praise your name; they shall sit upright (in
front of) your face (Ps. 140:14);°8
the second: Happy is (the man) you choose and bring close so that he dwells
in your courts (Ps. 65:5);
the third: Happy are those who dwell in your house (Ps. 84:5);
the fourth: Oh Lord, who may sojourn in your tent? (Ps. 15:1);
the fifth: Who may dwell on your holy mountain? (ibid.);
the sixth: Who may ascend (ya ‘aleh) to the mountain of the Lord? (Ps. 24:3);
the seventh: Who may stand in his holy place? (ibid.).

°° Sifre Deuteronomy 10 (Louis Finkelstein, ed., Siphre ad Deuteronomium [Berlin: Jiidischer

Kulturbund, 1939], p. 18), and see also ibid., 47 (p. 105); Wayyiqra Rabbah 30:2 (Mordecai
Margulies, ed., Midrash Wayyiqra Rabba, 5 vols. [Jerusalem, 1953-1958], pp. 692 f.); David
Hoffmann, ed., Midrash Tanna’im (Berlin: H. Itzkowski, 1908-1909), p. 6; Pesigta de-Rav
Kahana 27:2 (Bernard Mandelbaum, ed., Pesikta de Rav Kahana, 2 vols. [New York: Jewish
Theological Seminary of America, 1962], p. 405); Midrash Tehillim 11:6.
67 The version in Pesiqta de-Rav Kahana is almost identical.
68 This is the literal reading of the Psalm verse normally understood as “the upright shall sit
in your presence.” The parallel version in Midrash Tehillim adds a second, very similar, Psalm
verse (Ps. 11:7).
® Sifre Deuteronomy, 10 (ed. Finkelstein, p. 18); Midrash Tannaim (ed. Hoffmann, p. 6);
Midrash Tehillim 11:6. Goldberg tries to play down the relevance of the version in the early
(tannaitic) Midrash Sifre Deuteronomy (he does not mention Midrash Tannaim) with the
strange argument that it “stands so oddly in the text that one is inclined to regard it as a late
addition” (Arnold Goldberg, “Rabban Yohanans Traum: Der Sinai in der friihen Merkavamys-
tik,” in idem, Mystik und Theologie des rabbinischen Judentums, vol. 1, p. 23, n. 36). Instead
he prefers the version in the much later Midrash Tehillim.
 The Rabbis I 193

Apparently the classes of righteous in paradise are arranged in descend-

ing order: from the first class — closest to God’s presence, directly before his
face — to the seventh, which is at the lowest end of the heavenly hierarchy (stand-
ing on the rather vague “his holy place”).”° From this it becomes clear that the
third class is pretty high up, still in God’s “house” (in all likelihood his heav-
enly Temple).’! However, the parallel version in Midrash Tehillim offers quite
a different order, namely, Ps. 140:14 and 11:7 for the first class, Ps. 84:5 for
the second, Ps. 24:3 for the third, Ps. 65:5 for the fourth, Ps. 15:1 for the fifth,
Ps. 15:1 for the sixth, and Ps. 24:3 for the seventh. Hence, this version connects
the third class with the ascent to the mountain, presumably Mount Sinai. For no
sound reason, Goldberg prefers the sequence in the indisputably late Midrash
Tehillim’? and regards this as proof that the experience of our two rabbis is con-
nected with Mount Sinai, thus allowing him to reconstruct some early type of
Merkavah mysticism associated with a vision of God on Mount Sinai.” I see no
reason for any such speculation nourished by a remarkable and highly creative
combination of various midrashim. The story in the Yerushalmi remains com-
pletely within the realm of biblical exegesis (Ezek. 1) and the divine promise that
successful rabbis will be rewarded with eternal life in paradise.”
Now let us have a brief look at the Bavli version of the story concerning
the two students of Yohanan b. Zakkai who followed the example of their col-
league, Eleazar b. Arakh. In the Bavli it is R. Yehoshua (instead of R. Shim‘on b.
Netan’el) and R. Yose ha-Kohen, but their experience is very similar to the one
described in the Yerushalmi (with some deviations of no significance to our con-
text). But instead of the Yerushalmi’s immediate confirmation by the heavenly
voice, the Bavli has R. Yose go to Yohanan b. Zakkai and seek his confirmation,
adopting the pattern of the Tosefta story. And this is what he gets:
He [Yohanan b. Zakkai] said: Happy are you,” and happy is she who bore you! Happy
are my eyes, which have seen thus!
Further, I and you” in my dream were reclining (mesubbin) on Mount Sinai, and a
heavenly voice (bat gol) was given forth upon us from the heavens (exclaiming): As-

70 The number seven, of course, is analogous to the standard number of seven heavens (see
Schafer, “In Heaven as It Is in Hell,” pp. 233-274), but our midrash conspicuously avoids any
reference to the seven-heaven tradition.
71 The “courts” reserved for the second class are then the inner courts of the Temple. The
parallel in Midrash Tannaim exchanges “courts” and “house.”
72 But Goldberg feels uneasy about this and finds the sixth class more appropriate for those
who ascend to the mountain (“Rabban Yohanans Traum,” p. 23, n. 36).
® Tbid., pp. 24 ff.
ob-
74 Bven if there is some kind of Sinai connection in our story, it does not go beyond the
Sinai
vious fact that the rabbis’ exegesis (the Oral Torah) complements the revelation on Mount
story (which
(the Written Torah). There is absolutely no visionary component in the Yerushalmi
is why Goldberg also prefers the Bavli version; see below).
75 Plural, that is, R. Yose and R. Yehoshua.
76 Again plural.
194 Chapter 6

cend hither, ascend hither (‘alu le-khan)! Large dining rooms (¢eriqlin) and large dining
couches (matza ‘ot) are prepared”’ for you! You and your disciples and your disciples’
disciples are invited into the third class (kat shelishit).”
Here, the confirmation by the bat gol — following the confirmation by the teacher
and which, oddly enough, also includes the teacher, not just his students — is
transposed to a dream of the teacher (presumably some time ago) that took place
on Mount Sinai. This setting is unique and strange enough, but even stranger
is the fact that the heavenly voice asks the teacher and his two students to as-
cend — obviously from Mount Sinai to the dining rooms in heaven (where they
will join, as in the Yerushalmi, the third class of the righteous). In other words,
the three rabbis, who are already “reclining” — that is, dining on Mount Sinai
(the Hebrew word mesubbin no doubt means to recline for dining in company,
precisely what happens on the dining couch in the dining room) — are invited to
the banquet of the righteous in heaven. This makes little sense and clearly indi-
cates a secondary stage in the development of the story.
If this interpretation is correct, the conclusion cannot be avoided that the Sinai
connection in our story is altogether secondary, that is, that the Bavli editor has
tried to combine the Merkavah exegesis of Yohanan b. Zakkai’s students with the
revelation on Mount Sinai.’””? Whatever the reason for this (certainly not because
there was an early connection between the Merkavah exegesis and Mount Sinai),
in artificially distinguishing between a banquet on Mount Sinai and in heaven
and in having the bat gol explicitly inviting the three rabbis to ascend to heaven,
the Bavli editor introduces a new element into our story. Still, even in its current
version, the Bavli story may just refer to the postmortem ascent of the rabbis to
their place in heaven, but the very dramatic “ascent hither” of the bat gol (which
goes far beyond the simple function of confirmation in the Yerushalmi version)
makes it seem as if the Bavli wants to allude to a present experience, possible
during the rabbis’ lifetime. Hence, what may be happening in the Bavili is the
slow and still rudimentary infiltration of a tradition that identifies the Merkavah
exegesis with an ascent to the Merkavah.

7” Lit, “spread.”
78 b Hagigah 14b.
” Tt is remarkable that none of the scholars who are so intent on preferring the Bavli over the
Yerushalmi version have noticed the strange doubling of the banquets in the Bavli. Goldberg’s
major arguments for his preference for the Bavli version are (1) he cannot find a plausible reason
why the Bavli would have invented a dream and (2) the dream contains intrinsic characteristics
of a real dream (“Rabban Yohanans Traum,” p. 23), and Halperin resorts to the claim that the
Bavli story resembles the pre-Christian account of Levi’s ascent to heaven in the Testament of
Levi 2:5 f. (The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 130f.). Goldberg’s arguments are noth-
ing but vague impressions, and Halperin’s claim is weakened by the fact that he relies on a few
isolated literary similarities and completely ignores the detail that there is no heavenly banquet
in the Testament of Levi; moreover, his translation of mesubbin as “sitting” (instead of “reclin-
ing’) blurs a decisive difference between the Bavli and the Testament of Levi.
 The Rabbis I 195

2. Chain of Transmission

The second unit in the Tosefta is very brief. It simply states:

R. Yose b. R. Yehudah says: R. Yehoshua lectured (hirtzah) before Rabban Yohanan b.
Zakkai; R. Aqiva lectured before R. Yehoshua; Hananyah b. Hakinai lectured before
R. Aqiva.®°
R. Yose b. Yehudah is a contemporary of R. Yehudah ha-Nasi, the editor of
the Mishnah. According to him, a certain exegetical tradition was established
through a chain of transmission that started with Yohanan b. Zakkai: Yehoshua,
Yohanan b. Zakkai’s student, presented it first to his teacher (who apparently
approved of it), then it was repeated by Aqiva (and approved by Yehoshua), and
again repeated by Hananyah b. Hakinai (and approved by Aqiva). The content
of the lecture is not revealed, but there can be no doubt that the editor of the
Tosefta understood it as referring to the exposition of the Merkavah.*! This be-
comes clear from the context in which he puts this unit: it immediately follows
Eleazar b. Arakh’s successful exposition and seems to argue that, in addition to
Eleazar b. Arakh, Yehoshua, another cherished student of Yohanan b. Zakkai,
also carried out the daunting task.*?
It is not surprising, then, that the three students singled out here are all well
connected with the Merkavah. Agiva shows up again in the immediately suc-
ceeding unit, and Hananyah b. Hakinai, one of Agiva’s students,** is mentioned
among the Ten Martyrs (whose story is incorporated in the Hekhalot literature)**
as well as among the members of the famous havurah (circle of initiated schol-
ars) in Hekhalot Rabbati.*° Furthermore, in a Genizah fragment that has re-
ceived little attention we find the conspicuous phrase: “R. Eliezer expounds the
Merkavah (doresh ba-merkavah), R. Aqiva explores the Merkavah from one end
to the other (mefallesh ba-merkav[ah}), and [Hananyah b.] Hakinai speaks about
the Merkavah (mesapper ba-merkavah).”* There is no way to date the text in
which this phrase appears,*’ but it is remarkable that we have here Aqiva and
Hananyah b. Hakinai joined in some Merkavah business (whatever this is, most
80 t Hagigah 2:2.
81 | do not think, despite Halperin’s rather convoluted efforts (Merkabah in Rabbinic Lit-
erature, pp. 84-86), that we can reconstruct an earlier version of this unit which had nothing
to do with the Merkavah.
82 This is corroborated by the fact that in both Eleazar b. Arakh’s and Yehoshua’s cases the
b. Arakh
verb lehartzot, “lecture,” is used. Note also that in the Bavli addition to the Eleazar
story it is indeed R. Yehoshua who is one of the other two students of Yohanan b. Zakkai, whose
exegesis is approved by their teacher.
83 t Berakhot 4:18.
84 Schafer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 109.
SSTbid., § 203.
8 TS. K 21.95.A, fol. 1b, 1. 10f., in Peter Schafer, ed., Geniza-Fragmente zur Hekhalot-
Literatur (Tiibingen: J.C. B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1984), p. 175.
middle of
87 The fragment belongs to the early period of Genizah documents (before the
196 Chapter 6

likely again some exegetical activity).8* No doubt, therefore, that this second
unit wishes to establish a chain of transmission of the successful and approved
Merkavah exposition.
Why this chain ends with Hananyah b. Hakinai remains an open question,
but the Yerushalmi editor encountered the same problem. He concludes his oth-
erwise almost identical version with the sentence: “From then on, their knowl-
edge is not pure’’®? — in other words, there were no more students worthy of the
task. The Bavli editor combines this with yet another problem. He asks: Why
is Eleazar b. Arakh excluded from this chain? After all, he was the most impor-
tant student to expound the Merkavah before Yohanan b. Zakkai.”? His answer
is typical of the Bavli: the chain of tradition mentions only those students who
lectured before their teacher and subsequently became the teacher for another
student who lectured before them (which is not the case with Eleazar b. Arakh).
But why then Hananyah b. Hakinai, whose student is also not mentioned? An-
swer: he must indeed have had a student, but his name is not recorded because
this unknown student did not have a student himself. This logical stretch reveals
once more that the Bavli is more interested in an exercise of logical consistency
than in the essence of the students’ activity.

3. Four Entered a Garden

This third unit in the Tosefta is the most famous and most thoroughly discussed
of all the rabbinic texts related to the Merkavah:
Four entered a garden (nikhnesu le-fardes): Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Aher, and R.
Aqiva.
One looked (hetzitz) and died; one looked and suffered harm (nifga ‘); one looked and
cut down the shoots (qitztzetz ba-neti‘ot); and one ascended (‘alah) safely and de-
scended (yarad) safely (be-shalom).?!
Ben Azzai looked and died. Concerning him, Scripture says: Precious in the eyes of the
Lord is the death of his pious (Ps. 116:15).
Ben Zoma looked and suffered harm. Concerning him, Scripture says: If you have
found honey, eat only enough for you (lest you have eaten too much of it and vomit it
out) (Prov. 25:16).
Aher”’ looked and cut down the shoots. Concerning him, Scripture says: Let not
your mouth lead your flesh into sin (and say not before the angel that it was an error;

the eleventh century: see Geniza-Fragmente zur Hekhalot-Literatur, p. 171), but this date, of
course, says nothing about the date of the tradition as such.
88 And if we correct “Eliezer” to “Eleazar,” we have yet another one of the usual suspects
(Eleazar b. Arakh).
8° y Hagigah 2:1/14, fol. 77b.
» b Hagigah 14b.
*! This sentence is missing in Ms: Erfurt.
°2 Ms. Vienna: “Elisha.”
 The Rabbis I 197

why should God become angry at your voice and destroy the work of your hands?)
(Bech. 5:5);
R. Aqiva entered (nikhnas) safely and went out (yatza) safely.°> Concerning him, Scrip-
ture says: Draw me after you, let us run, etc. (the king has brought me into his cham-
bers) (Cant. 1:4).%4

This brief unit is the showpiece for all those scholars who wish to see the origins
of what would come to be labeled “Merkavah mysticism” as being at the very
core of rabbinic Judaism. It is repeated in a variety of versions in the Hekhalot
literature,?> and most scholars argue — following the lead of Gershom Scholem
in his famous article, “The Four Who Entered Paradise and Paul’s Ascension to
Paradise””° — that our story presents the earliest version of a mystical ascent to
the Merkavah in heaven.” I have dealt with this unit elsewhere”® and will here
reflect on what, in my view, are the most important elements (without going into
all the details), and on what still holds up (and does not hold up) in my earlier
interpretation.
A still valid starting point is the remarkable fluctuation in terminology with re-
gard to what the four rabbis did:”’ according to the introductory sentence, which
serves as a kind of heading, the rabbis entered/went into a garden,!° but when
it comes to R. Agiva, the text cannot make up its mind whether he “entered”
and “went out’”!°! or “ascended” and “descended.”!” Since the “enter” and “go
out” terminology fits the object “garden” best (that’s what one does with a gar-
den: one goes in and out; one does not ascend and descend) and since the head-
ing in all the rabbinic versions of our story preserves this terminology (even in
the Bavli), I contend that this is the original reading of our unit. Since there can
be no doubt, however, that the terminology of ascending and descending to the

93 Ms. Vienna: “ascended (‘alah) safely and descended (yarad) safely.”

4 t Hagigah 2:3 f.
95 See the details in my article, below n. 98, and see below, pp. 286f.
% Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, pp. 14-19; see idem, Major Trends, pp. 52f.
97 See the summary of previous scholarship in Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Litera-
ture, pp. 88f., and in my article (next note, Hekhalot Studien, pp. 239 fon. 35):
98 Peter Schafer, “New Testament and Hekhalot Literature: The Journey into Heaven in
Paul and Merkavah Mysticism,” JJS 35 (1984), pp. 19-35 = id., Hekhalot-Studien (Tiibingen:
J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1988), pp. 234-249.
99 In the Tosefta as well as in the parallel versions in the Yerushalmi (Hagigah 2:1/15 and
2:1/18, fol. 77b) and in the Bavli (Hagigah 14b, 15a, 15b).
100 The same in all three versions.
101 Tosefta Ms. Erfurt and y Hagigah.
102 Togefta Ms. Vienna and b Hagigah. In the sentence immediately after the heading, which
does not list the names of the rabbis, the last rabbi (of course, Aqiva) “ascended” and “de-
scended” in the Tosefta (only in Ms. Vienna), but “entered” and “went out” in the Yerushalmi
not use
(this sentence is left out in the Bavli). Hence it is noteworthy that the Yerushalmi does
the “ascend” /“descend” terminology at all.
198 Chapter 6

Merkavah is one of the major hallmarks of Hekhalot literature,'°° we must per-

force conclude that the ascend/descend layer of our story reflects the intrusion
of the ascent and descent tradition as described in this literature!”
So originally the four rabbis entered a garden, looked at something, and only
one of them, Agiva, managed to get in and out safely. Much ink has been spilled
over the meaning of “garden” (pardes) and “looking at” (hetzitz). The propo-
nents of a “mystical” reading wish to understand pardes as “paradise” (located
in one of the heavens) and hetzitz as looking at the Merkavah.'®° But even in the
Hekhalot literature pardes is nowhere combined with an ascent/descent (except
in the Hekhalot parallel of our story), and nowhere in rabbinic literature is hetzitz
linked with the Merkavah (note that even our pardes story fails to mention the
Merkavah); it simply means “to look closely.’”!°* Moreover, only very few pas-
sages in the Hekhalot literature combine hetzitz with an object that relates to the
Merkavah: God’s robe,!%” his beauty,!°8 and the vision of the Merkavah.!°”
What, then, is the “original” meaning of our story? I am still convinced that
Urbach’s interpretation of our text as an allegory — using the literary form of a
parable, with an “image” (mashal) and its “application” (nimshal) — is the most
likely one.'!° The heading and the immediately succeeding sentence describ-
ing what the four rabbis did constitute the mashal, and the biblical proof-texts
present the application or interpretation. This means that the mashal is to be
understood metaphorically and that the metaphors “garden,” “looked,” “died,”
“suffered harm,” “cut down the shoots,” and “entered/went out” are explained in
the nimshal through the respective biblical verses. Unfortunately, “garden” has
no equivalent in the nimshal explanations, so we can only hope to understand it
through the interpretation of the other metaphors.

103 See the monograph by Annelies Kuyt, The “Descent” to the Chariot: Towards a De-
scription of the Terminology, Place, Function, and Nature of the Yeridah in Hekhalot Literature
(Tubingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1995.
104 Interestingly enough, the Hekhalot literature in most cases uses a reverse terminology,
namely yarad (lit. “descend”’) for the ascent and ‘alah (lit. “ascend’’) for the descent; see below,
p. 247. Since this would not make any sense in our story, the original Hekhalot terminology had
to be adapted to the garden image.
105 See the details in Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, and Schafer, Hekhalot-
Studien, passim.
106 See the references in Schafer, Hekhalot-Studien, p. 241, n. 50.
107 Schafer, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 102.
'08 Thid., § 159 (§ 173 in Hekhalot-Studien, p. 241, n. 46, is a misprint) and the Genizah frag-
ment T.-S. K 21.95.C, fol. 2a, 1. 25 (Geniza-Fragmente zur Hekhalot-Literatur, p. 103).
109 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 225.
110 Ephraim E. Urbach, “The Traditions about Merkabah Mysticism in the Tannaitic Period,”
in Ephraim E. Urbach, R.J. Zwi Werblowsky, and Chaim Wirszubski, eds., Studies in Mysti-
cism and Religion Presented to Gershom G. Scholem on His Seventieth Birthday (Jerusalem:
Magnes Press, 1967), pp. 13-17 (in Hebrew). He is followed by Halperin, The Merkabah in
Rabbinic Literature, p. 89.
 The Rabbis I 199

In looking more closely at those Bible verses that are supposed to interpret the
allegory, we immediately notice they indeed aim at explaining what happened
to the four rabbis — that is, the consequences of their looking. In the case of Ben
Azzai, the verse tells us that he died the “death of the pious”; in other words,
God took him away because he regarded him as one of his righteous pious. His
death, therefore, was by no means a punishment for what he did in the “garden”;
on the contrary, I would posit that God took him to heaven because he liked
him so much and approved of what he did. If we read this in light of the previ-
ous two units, we may even go a step further and assume that God approved of
his exposition of the Scripture. In the case of Ben Zoma the Bible verse clearly
hints at some bad result of his looking: he could not get enough of whatever it
was he did, so he got an upset stomach and was punished by “vomiting it out.”
Again, what precisely it was that he did remains open, but it becomes evident
that he was punished. As for Elisha b. Avuyah/Aher, the proverbial heretic, he
definitely did something bad, whatever the cutting down of the shoots means:!!!
the Bible verse makes it very clear that he had led someone into sin and that he
should not pretend that his bad behavior was an error.'!” And finally, with regard
to Aqiva, I am still convinced that the Bible verse puts the emphasis on explain-
ing his safe exit (draw me after you, let us run), but I do not want to exclude the
possibility that the second half of the verse alludes to his entrance. If this is the
case, the emphasis would seem to be here on the king, in the sense that the king
(God) has brought me (Aqiva) here (into the garden) and hence has approved of
my entering the garden.
But there still remain the “chambers,” explicitly mentioned in the proof-text
Cant. 1:4 —are they the desired clue to the meaning of “garden”? Many scholars
have pointed out that the image of the chambers is reminiscent of the chambers
of the Merkavah in the Hekhalot literature. Although the full expression “cham-
bers of the Merkavah” does not appear in the Hekhalot literature,!!? there can
be no doubt that “chambers” (hadarim) frequently refer to the heavenly palaces
so characteristic of Merkavah mysticism.'"4 Is this finally what our unit is all
about — the rabbis’ entrance into/ascent to the heavenly chambers, the seventh
of which contains the Merkavah, as the earliest rabbinic version of an ecstatic
heavenly journey? I am not persuaded because, for one thing, in such a case

111 The Yerushalmi explains that he prevented the young Torah students from learning the
Torah (y Hagigah 2:1/15f., fol. 77b).
112 Obviously understood by the editor of our story as referring to his heresy.
113 Only in the phrase “the mystery of the chambers of the hekhal of the Merkavah” (Syn-
opse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 556).
14 See the many references in Peter Schafer, ed., Konkordanz zur Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 1
(Tiibingen: J.C. B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1986), p. 242: in phrases such as “the chambers of the
hekhal of ...” (followed by an object, e. g., ‘arevot raqia‘ [that is, the seventh heaven], raqia‘
‘elyon [the highest heaven], ge ‘awah [pride, majesty], etc.) or, very often, “the chambers of the
chambers” (hadrei hadarim).
200 Chapter 6

intention in
the editor would then have done quite a poor job, hiding his main
quoted, and for another thing, because
a part of a Bible verse that is not even
as we have seen, is clearly sec-
the more explicit ascend-descend terminology,
ondary. Instead, I suggest taking a closer look at the rabbinic use of the word
heder. In addition to the commonplace meaning of “room, chamber, private
room, bedroom,” it can take on a more specific connotation.!!> In halakhic ter-
minology, heder signifies the innermost part of the female genitals, that is, the
uterus, followed by the ‘aliyyah (lit. “attic” = the vagina) and the prozdor (lit.
“vestibule” = the vulva).!!° In the figurative sense, the plural hadarim denotes
the “secrets, mysteries” of something,!"” as, for example, in an interpretation of
our verse Cant. 1:4:
Whence was Elihu, the son of Berakh’el, the Buzite, to know'"* and to reveal to Israel
the secrets (hadrei, lit. “the chambers”) of Behemoth and Leviathan, and whence was
Ezekiel to know and to reveal to them the secrets (hadrei) of the Merkavah? Rather,
this is what is written (that is, they both knew these secrets from what is written in the
Bible): the King has brought me into his chambers (Cant. 1:4).!!

The secrets of Behemoth and Leviathan are explained in Job 40:15—24 and 41:1—
34 respectively (although, strictly speaking, in the book of Job it is not Elihu who
reveals these secrets to Job but God himself), and the secrets of the Merkavah are
disclosed in Ezek. 1. What this midrash argues, then, is that it was God himself
who revealed to Elihu and to Ezekiel the mysteries of Behemoth/Leviathan and
of the Merkavah, and who allowed them to reveal these secrets to Israel. The
revelation of such mysteries and the divine approbation are not bound up with an
ascent to heaven (even Ezekiel did not undertake a heavenly journey); this is not
the point here. The point is the secrecy, an esoteric knowledge of certain “inner-
most” mysteries that God nevertheless made public to a few, very special adepts.
Hence, applied to our four rabbis, this means that God invited them to “look at”
and to understand some very special mysteries and that the four responded quite
differently. One (Ben Azzai) was so perfect in his understanding that God took
him away, one suffered physical and presumably also mental harm (Ben Zoma),
one did harm to others (Aher), and only one (Aqiva) managed to absorb what he
“saw” and understood, without doing any harm to himself or others.

4S See Jastrow, Dictionary, vol. 1, p. 427, s.v. “heder”; Jacob Levy, Wérterbuch iiber die
Talmudim und Midraschim, 2nd ed. (Berlin: B. Harz, 1924 [repr. 1963, Wissenschaftliche Buch-
gesellschaft, Darmstadt), vol. 2, p. 17, s.v.“heder.”
116 m Niddah 2:5; b Niddah 17b.
"7 Accordingly, be-hadrei hadarim (‘in the chambers of the chambers”) means “in strictest
secrecy”; see b Betzah 9a.
M8 Lit. “to come.”
‘19 Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah 1:28 (on Cant. 1:4). One could argue that this is a rather late mi-
drash, but the Hekhalot literature is hardly earlier.
 The Rabbis I 201

If the original meaning of hadarim — as the word is used also in the proof-text
of our story — is indeed “secrets” and “mysteries,” nothing compels us to con-
nect it inevitably and automatically with the mysteries of the Merkavah. The
rabbis may have been initiated in God’s garden,!”° that is, by God himself, into
any kind of mystery (after all, Behemoth and Leviathan have absolutely no con-
nection with the Merkavah). If there was ever an original version of our story,
independent of its present context, there is no way to prove any such “original”
mystery — although I am confident that it must have had something to do with
mysteries hidden in the text of the Bible.'*! However, in its present context in the
Tosefta (with its parallels in the Yerushalmi and the Bavli), the mystery revealed
to the rabbis was either the mystery of creation (Genesis) or of the Merkavah
(Ezekiel), since this is the knowledge that the Mishnah limits and that the editor
sets out to illustrate with his cycle of stories.'*?
What I want to argue, then, is that the rabbis were initiated by God into the
innermost mysteries of the Torah. I leave open whether the “garden” is used as
a metaphor for these mysteries (Aher’s cutting the shoots could indicate this:
he cuts the tender shoots of Torah exegesis?) or just as the metaphorical place
where God reveals his secrets, reserved only for the very few, of which at least
two were a complete failure. This, I posit, is the message of the story of the four
who entered the garden. The editor of the story in all the relevant rabbinic col-
lections most likely understood it as referring to the exegesis of the Merkavah,
that is, of Ezek. 1 (10) and not of Gen. 1 — although there is no definite proof of
this.!23 What is clear, however, is that he did not understand it as a vision of the
Merkavah (either as the result of the proper exegetical procedure!‘ or as the re-
sult of an ecstatic ascent to heaven).!?°
I conclude this unit with a brief look at the version in the Bavli, since the Bavli
presents the only notable deviation from the otherwise very similar versions in
the three major documents. Immediately following the heading with the four
rabbis’ names!”® it states:

120 Although the text does not explicitly say they entered Gods garden; but if we take
Cant. 1:4 seriously, it cannot have been just any garden. Also, one of the following units refers
to the “garden of the king.”
121 | modify here my previous suggestion (in Hekhalot-Studien, p. 242) that the four rabbis
are four different types of Torah teachers, but I still maintain that the story has to do with the
exegesis of certain passages of the Hebrew Bible.
122 The mystery of forbidden sexual relations is very unlikely, since it is completely ignored
in all the units relating to the Mishnah prohibition.
123 Only the Bavli makes the connection with the Merkavah explicit; see below.
124 This is Urbach’s take on the story; see his “Traditions,” p. 13.
125 Halperin, with his undifferentiated use of the term, nevertheless insists on calling it
“mysticism” (The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. Di) va
as
126 The heading is introduced by the formula “our masters taught,” establishing the story
an early tradition (Baraitha).
202 Chapter 6

R. Agiva said to them: when you arrive at!27 the stones of pure marble (avnei shayish
be estab-
tahor), do not say “water, water,” for it is said: No one who utters lies shall
lished before my eyes (Ps. 101:7).!”8

This element of the story makes no sense in its present context. It says neither
to whom Aqiva is talking (presumably, however, to his three colleagues)'”’ nor
where they are; nor does it bother to explain the meaning of the stones of pure
marble or why the rabbis should not say “water, water.” From the biblical proof-
text it becomes clear that somehow saying “water, water” must be a lie and that
God — who is the subject of the Psalm verse — does not wish to see such a liar.
Since the verse Ps. 101:7 begins, “No one who practices deceit shall stay within
my house,” we may assume that the Bavli editor understands the verse as refer-
ring to the heavenly Temple.
It has long been observed that we have a much fuller version of this brief Bavli
story (I call it the “water episode”) in the Hekhalot literature. More precisely,
we have two major incarnations of it, one connecting it with the pardes narra-
tive and one independent of it. I have analyzed the various Hekhalot versions
elsewhere and have suggested, I still believe convincingly, that the combination
of the pardes narrative with the water episode is redactional (hence secondary)
and that the original Sitz im Leben of the water episode is the testing of the adept,
who undertakes a heavenly ascent.!*° It reads as follows:
The sixth hekhal looks as though hundreds of thousands and myriads of waves of the
sea are poured over him [the adept], although there is not a single drop of water in it,
but (this impression is given) by the (flicker of) the air (caused by) the radiance of the
marble stones with which the hekhal is paved and the radiance (of which) is more ter-
rible than water. And do not the servants [angels] stand before him [the adept]? If he
(now) says: “Those waters, what is the meaning of them?”, they immediately run after
him to stone him, and they say to him: “(You) fool, now you shall not see with your
eyes! Are you of the seed of those who kissed the (golden) calf? You are unworthy to
see the king in his beauty!”!*!

Although we still do not know the precise meaning of the experience of the radi-
ant marble stones that look like water but have nothing to do with water, the story
makes perfect sense as a test for the adept who approaches the sixth chamber or

27 Or probably “come across” (maggi ‘in etzel).

: b Hagigah 14b. The Bavli leaves out the following sentence (“One looked and died,
ClO):
'29 Some manuscripts add “to the sages” or “to his disciples” (see Halperin, The Merkabah
in Rabbinic Literature, p. 75, n. 27).
'30 Hekhalot-Studien, pp. 243-246, and see below, p. 286, n. 165.
'5! Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 408. Immediately thereafter, a heavenly voice ap-
proves of the angels’ verdict, and then follows a warning to behave properly at the entrance
to the sixth hekhal (ibid., § 409) and subsequently (as a dictum of Aqiva) the example of Ben
Azzai is added, who was unable to heed this advice and was therefore cruelly killed by the an-
gels (§ 410).
 The Rabbis I 203

heaven (that is, the last one before the seventh in which God’s throne is located).
No doubt, then, that this is what Aqiva refers to in the Bavli: when you, my dear
friends and colleagues, who have undertaken the dangerous heavenly journey,
arrive at the sixth chamber/heaven (hekhal) and see these radiant marble stones,
do not mistake them for water! They only look like water, but they are the marble
stones with which the sixth hekhal is paved. If you cannot refrain from exclaim-
ing “water, water” — presumably because you are so frightened by the view of
the radiant stones — you are a “liar,” that is, you do not belong where you are and
you will be forbidden from seeing God on his throne in the seventh hekhal.
So, obviously, what happens here in the Bavli is again the infiltration into the
rabbinic literature — and into the later stages of the rabbinic literature at that — of
material that is part and parcel of Merkavah mysticism. We cannot know whether
the Bavli editor introduces this material in an abbreviated version (because his
readers knew very well what he was talking about) or in a truncated form (be-
cause he no longer understood its true context), although I prefer the former
alternative. In any case, I find it most likely that the Bavli editor imported the
water episode from its original context within the Hekhalot literature and not
vice versa, the Hekhalot version of the water episode attempting to interpret the
Bavli version.!** Such a literary development from a cryptic (to say the least)
if not meaningless rendering to a full-blown story does not make much sense.
The reason, however, why he added his version of the water episode is clear
enough: he wanted to turn the pardes narrative into an ascent account to ensure
that the reader would understand the entrance of the four rabbis into the “gar-
den” as an ascent to the Merkavah in heaven. Ironically, he did not even bother
to change the heading from “entered” to “ascended,” and he also did not care
how ill-suited his newly added water episode was to the continuation of the
pardes narrative.!*

4. Parable of the King’s Garden

The experience of the four rabbis is followed by two parables, the first of which
takes up the pardes motif and makes sure we are talking about the pardes of the
king, that is, God:'*4

132 As suggested by Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 88.

133 Tn the next chapter (ch. 7) I discuss the larger structure of the Bavli’s sugiah and how it
affects the meaning of its respective units.
134 This sequence is preserved in Ms. Vienna; Ms. Erfurt places the Ben Zoma story (unit
six) immediately after unit three:
Ms. Erfurt: 1-2—-3—-6—-4-5—7
Ms. Vienna: 1—-2—3—-4-5—6-7
I regard the sequence in Ms. Vienna as more plausible because it continues the garden motif
and the motif of looking (/ehatzitz).
204 Chapter 6

king’s garden
They provided a parable: to what may the matter be likened? To a
chamber/ story (‘aliyyah ) built upon it. What is one to do
(pardes), with an upper
upon it
(mah ‘alaw ‘al adam)? Just to look (Jehatzitz) — only let him not feast his eyes
(yaziz'35 ‘enaw mimenno)!'*°

This brief unit is missing in the Bavli and has a parallel only in the Yerushal-
mi.!37 There, it concludes: “just to look, but not to touch.” Again, the standard
explanation is that the parable refers to the heavenly hekhalot and that it wants
to convey the message: just look at the divinity — that is, in the Hekhalot termi-
nology, at “the king in his beauty” — but do not feast your eyes on what you see.
The rabbinic proof text usually provided for this interpretation is a midrash about
Nadab and Abihu, who were destined to die because they had feasted their eyes
on the Shekhinah on Mount Sinai.'38 Such a connection is possible, but neverthe-
less odd: why should one be allowed to look at God but not to feast on what one
sees? Let us therefore try to understand the parable without immediately seizing
on a Merkavah mystical context.
The parable offers only a mashal, not the customary nimshal (interpretation,
application). What we have is a garden with some kind of structure in it, appar-
ently a building with an upper story (probably also a tower), from which one
looks down into the garden. We are not told who is standing on the tower, but it
is clearly a human being; if the structure is a tower, it could even be a watchtower
and the human being a guard watching over the king’s garden. In any case, the
person standing on the structure is called upon to look but not feast his eyes on
what he sees. The verb used for “look” is the same as in the preceding (third)
unit: /ehatzitz, literally “to look out,” “to peep,” or “to peer” (to look closely).!°?
And the phrase /a-zun et ha-‘enayim min literally means “to feed the eye, to de-
rive pleasure from a sight” (mostly from an illicit sight).'*° But the sight in our
parable cannot be illicit because the person on the upper story of the building in
the garden has been explicitly allowed to look: his task is to look intently, but
not to derive pleasure from what he sees.
These are the basics of our parable, but we still do not know who it is that
stands on that upper story in the garden with an unimpeded view of it. The easiest
explanation would be that the garden is an orchard and the person in the build-
ing a guard watching over the crop. The message then would be: just keep an
eye out, that’s your job, but do not enjoy the beauty of the garden! Such a sober

85 Correcting, with Ms. London, yaziz to yazun.

136 t Hagigah 2:6.
137 y Hagigah 2:1/42, fol. 77c. I do not follow Halperin (The Merkabah in Rabbinic Litera-
ture, p. 92) in his preference for the Yerushalmi over the Tosefta version.
'38 Wayyiqra Rabbah 20:10 (ed. Margulies, p. 466) and parallels; see Goldberg, “Rabban
Yohanans Traum,” pp. 25 ff.
139 Jastrow, Dictionary, vol. 2, p: 1269, s. v. “‘tzutz.”
140 Tbid., vol. 1, p. 387, s.v.“‘zun.”
 The Rabbis I 205

interpretation cannot be ruled out, but I doubt that this is the ultimate message
of our parable (it is certainly not the message that the Tosefta and Yerushalmi
editors had in mind). It does not seem likely that the person on that upper story
was put there on a regular basis (as a guard); rather, he seems to have quite un-
expectedly gained access to the mysterious garden and now marvels at what he
sees. This also helps better to explain the tension between his looking and the
warning not to feast his eyes on what he sees: he is allowed to look — not called
upon to look — but is warned not to derive pleasure from the marvels he sees.
It is this tension that is at the core of our parable. The rabbinic parallels
using the phrase /a-zun et ha-‘enayim (apart from the midrash about Nadab
and Abihu’s eyes feasting on the view of the Shekhinah) refer to the Holy of
Holies (when the craftsmen in the Temple had to do repairs in the Holy of Ho-
lies — which they were not allowed to see — they were lowered into it in boxes
from the upper story above the Holy of Holies, so that they could do their job
but “might not feast their eyes upon the Holy of Holies”)'*! and to sexual mat-
ters (a person who happens to see some nakedness/ obscenity [devar ‘erwah] and
does not feast his eyes on it is worthy of receiving the face of the Shekhinah).'4”
In both cases someone sees something that normally one is not supposed to see
(only the high priest enters the Holy of Holies and sees it; one does not gaze at
nakedness) but that one sometimes cannot avoid seeing (the craftsmen in the
Temple have to do their repairs, even in the Holy of Holies; one does encounter
naked people). Accordingly, our anonymous visitor in the king’s garden sees
there something that under normal circumstances human beings are not sup-
posed to see. Like the craftsmen in the Temple and the involuntary voyeur, if he
happens to be in the garden he may look, but in no way may he feast his eyes
on what he sees.
This is as far as the larger rabbinic context brings us, but unfortunately, we
still do not know what our visitor sees. Since I do not think we can simply infer
the object of his seeing from one of these rabbinic parallels (the Shekhinah, the
Temple, nakedness), or, to put it differently, since all of these objects are equally
possible, we are confined to our context in the Tosefta (Yerushalmi). Since the
context of the units analyzed so far is the exegesis of certain biblical passages,
I find it most plausible to assume that this is likewise what is at stake here: one
who sees the marvels of Scripture, in particular of those passages not acces-
sible to everyone, may look at them, that is, understand them — but he must
not feast his eyes on them and excel in them. Any exaggeration in his exposi-
tion, any boasting about it — probably also anything that goes beyond sober and
modest understanding (such as practice?) — is absolutely forbidden. Whether
our Tosefta/Yerushalmi editor had in mind all three passages restricted in the

141 mm Middot 4:5; b Pesahim 26a; see also y Bikkurim 2:1/3, fol. 64c.
142 Wayyigra Rabbah 23:13 (ed. Margulies, p. 548); see also b Shabbat 64a-b.
206 Chapter 6

the Merkavah re-

Mishnah (forbidden sexual relations, Genesis, Ezekiel) or just
ah, although it is
mains an open question. Much speaks in favor of the Merkav
its Tosefta
conspicuous that the Yerushalmi editor has wrenched the parable from
it as
context and placed it in the middle of his Genesis exegesis, clearly reading
part of the “work of creation.”!*

5. Parable of the Middle Course

It is only in the Tosefta that the second parable is directly attached to the first one;
the Yerushalmi has placed it on top of its discussion of the Mishnah’s Merkavah
restriction (even before the Yohanan b. Zakkai-Eleazar b. Arakh unit),'*4 and the
Bavli leaves it out altogether:!*°
They provided another parable:'*° to what may the matter be likened? To a public road
(istrata)'*7 running between two roads, one of fire and one of snow. If he turns to this
side, he is burned by the fire, and if he turns to that side, he is burned by the snow.
What is one to do (mah ‘alaw ‘al adam)?'*® Walk in the middle, and he should not turn
to either side.'*”

As seen in the identical phrase “What is one to do?” this parable is modeled
along the lines of the first parable.!°° The metaphor, however, is quite differ-
ent: someone is walking on a major public road that runs between two (smaller)
roads, one of burning fire and the other of ice-cold (that is, also “burning”) snow.
He is advised to steer a safe middle course so that he may not be consumed by
either the fire or the snow. This image does not make any sense in real terms,
and Halperin is probably right in suggesting that the original image was that of
a single path running between fire and snow on each side, on which was super-
imposed the tradition of two paths, one leading to paradise and the other to hell.
Moreover, the “public road” may well have penetrated into our parable from the
Ben Zoma narrative (next unit) that takes place on an istrata.'>!

143 See below, p. 222.

44 y Hagigah 2:1/8, fol. 77a.
45 t Hagigah 2:6.
Ms. Vienna; Ms. Erfurt reads: “Another explanation: they provided a parable. ...”
Istrata (a loanword from Latin strata, transcribed in Hebrew in various forms) is a major
public road, presumably paved; see Jastrow, Dictionary, vol. 1, p. 91, s.v. “istrata”; Michael
Sokoloff, Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic of the Byzantine Period (Ramat-Gan: Bar
Ilan University Press, 1990), p. 52, s.v. “istrat.” Jacob Neusner, The Tosefta Translated from
the Hebrew: Second Division Moed (The Order of Appointed Times) (New York: Ktav, 1981),
p. 313, suggests the strange translation “platoon.”
pala gs reading (in Ms. Vienna) is preferable to the reading in Ms. Erfurt (ma‘alin ‘al
adam).
'49 Lit. “to this [side[ or to that [side].”
'50 The Yerushalmi version, reading mah ya ‘aseh (“what should he do”) instead of mah
‘alaw ‘al adam, ignores this connection.
'S! Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 95.
 The Rabbis I 207

The parable as such does not give any clue as to its subject (the nimshal):
what is the “matter” that it sets forth to explain? In my view, the only plausible
answer to this question can be that it is the exegesis of the Torah. This is defi-
nitely the way the Yerushalmi editor understands the parable, because he opens
the unit with the unambiguous sentence: “This Torah (ha-torah ha-zu) resem-
bles two paths, one of fire and one of snow.” Of course, this does not prove that
the Yerushalmi editor’s explanation was the original one, but another persuasive
alternative hardly exists. Supporting this interpretation is a midrash in the Me-
khilta!*? that uses similar imagery:
Because the Lord descended upon it in fire (Ex. 19:18). This tells (us) that the Torah is
fire, was given from fire, and is compared to fire. As it is the way of fire, if one (adam)
comes (too) close to it, he gets burned, and if he keeps (too) far away from it, he gets
cold (tzonen) — (hence) one should only warm oneself by its light.'°

That the Torah is of fire is standard rabbinic theology.'** But remarkable about
this midrash is the fact that it uses the metaphor of choosing a middle course
between getting too close (burned) and drifting too far afield (cold): one should
avoid getting too close to the Torah while also avoiding the opposite — one
should just warm oneself by its “light.” This or a similar midrash, referring
to the exegesis of the entire Torah, may have been the Vorlage of our Tosefta/
Yerushalmi editor. Yet it is almost certain that the Tosefta editor did not have
the entire Torah in mind when he added this parable to his stories illustrating the
Mishnah’s restrictions; rather, he clearly understood the parable as another ex-
ample of the caveat against the improper preoccupation with certain dangerous
biblical passages, most likely again Ezek. 1.

6. Ben Zoma and Creation

There is a case story regarding (ma ‘aseh be-) R. Yehoshua, who was walking on a
public road (istrata),'*> and Ben Zoma was coming toward him. When he [Yehoshua]
reached him [Ben Zoma], he [Ben Zoma] did not greet him.
He [Yehoshua] said to him [Ben Zoma]: “Whence and whither, Ben Zoma?”
He [Ben Zoma] said to him [Yehoshua]: “I was looking at!°° the work of creation
(ma‘aseh bereshit), and there is not even a handbreadth between the upper waters and
the lower waters. As it is said: The Spirit of God was hovering (merahefet) over the

152 Suggested by Halperin, ibid., pp. 96f.

153 (Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, ba-hodesh Yitro, 4 (ed. Horovitz-Rabin, p. 215; ed. Lauter-
bach, pp. 220f.).
154 See, e. g., y Sheqalim 6:1/26, fol. 49d; Sota 8:3/22, fol. 22d (the Torah written with black
fire on white fire, “fire mixed with fire, hewn out of fire, and given from fire”).
155 Now Neusner, The Tosefta Translated from the Hebrew, p. 313, translates the same word
istrata as “piazza.”
156 Ms. Vienna: tzofeh hayiti; Ms. Erfurt: mistakkel hayiti.
208 Chapter 6

up its nest, etc.!°7 [over its

face of the waters (Gen. 1:2). And it says: As an eagle stirs
an eagle flies over its nest, touching
young it hovers (verahef)] (Deut. 32:11). Just as
not even a handbre adth between the upper waters and the
and not touching, so there is
lower waters.”
1s already outside
When he heard this,'5® R. Yehoshua said to his disciples: “Ben Zoma
(miba-hutz).”
this world].!*?
Only a few days passed before Ben Zoma departed (nistalleq) [from
from the
The heroes of this strange anecdote are Ben Zoma, whom we know
of the chain of the (Merkav ah)
pardes story (unit 3) and R. Yehoshua, who is part
transmission (unit 2). The setting on a public road is obviousl y the reason why
Tosefta Ms. Vienna combined this and the preceding unit, whereas Ms. Erfurt
has the Ben Zoma anecdote immediately follow the pardes story (certainly an-
other option). The Yerushalmi, the Bavli, and in addition the Midrash Bereshit
Rabbah transmit very similar versions of the encounter between the two rab-
bis?
There is no need for us to analyze this unit in full detail'®' because, for our
purpose, the major and striking result is the fact that it evidently deals with the
“work of creation” — that is what it explicitly says and what its transmission in
Bereshit Rabbah presupposes. Ben Zoma, when R. Yehoshua meets him on a
road, is “looking at” the work of creation, that is, he is contemplating the bibli-
cal text of Gen. 1. However Ben Zoma discovered that the upper and lower wa-
ters — which were separated by the firmament on the second day — still remain
very close to each other (less than a handbreadth), he seems to have reached
this conclusion through a comparison of Gen 1:2 and Deut. 32:11: using the
key word lerahef (“hovering over”), he applies the hovering of the eagle over
its nest (almost touching it) to the hovering of the Spirit of God over the waters
of Gen. 1:2. Unfortunately, this is poor exegesis because the waters of Gen. 1:2,
over which the Spirit of God hovers, are the waters of the first day of creation,
before their separation into upper and lower waters (as described in Gen. 1:7).
The Bavli, with its typically sober mind, points to this discrepancy, and it may
well be that this unsuccessful exegesis of Gen. 1 is the reason why R. Yehoshua
predicts Ben Zoma’s death.'© The death of the poor rabbi may seem a rather

157 “Ftc.” only in Ms. Vienna.

158 Lit. “at this hour,” only in Ms. Erfurt.
159 t Hagigah 2:5. The Yerushalmi (see next note) has “passed away” (niftar).
160 y Hagigah 2:1/13, fol. 77a/b; b Hagigah 15a (locates the encounter on the Temple
one cee Rabbah 2:4 (has instead of “whence and whither” the strange phrase “whence
the feet’’).
161 See the succinct summary in Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 96—
99.
‘62 Not to mention the fact that in the pardes story it is not Ben Zoma but Ben Azzai who
dies the death (of the righteous). But maybe our story wishes merely to illustrate the fact that
it Zoma “suffered harm” and that his subsequent death is just the natural result of suffering
arm.
 The Rabbis I 209

harsh punishment for an erroneous exegesis, but still this could well be its mes-
sage: Do not mess around with the work of creation. If you become involved in
it, be extremely careful, because your life is at stake.
In any case, there can be no doubt that the plain meaning of the text is the ex-
position of the work of creation, and I see no reason to connect it with an ascent
to the Merkavah (in the sense that Ben Zoma was physically on earth but mentally
in heaven). The story does not speak about the Merkavah; rather, the editor added
here the encounter between Ben Zoma and R. Yehoshua because he understood it
as an illustration of the Mishnah’s warning against the exegesis of Gen. 1.

7. Creation

The last unit of our cycle of midrashim, intended to explain the limitations
of biblical exegeses, again deals with the creation (Gen. 1). It is preserved in
the Tosefta as well as in the Yerushalmi and the Bavli.!@ Since the text in the
Tosefta is corrupt, with various distortions in both the Vienna and the Erfurt
manuscripts,!® I translate here the Yerushalmi version:'®
R. Yonah in the name of R. Ba: It is written: For ask now concerning the first days,
which were before you (Deut. 4:32a).
One might think (yakhol):'© Before the work of creation. [No, because] Scripture says
(talmud lomar): From the day that God created man upon the earth (Deut. 4:32b).
One might think: From the sixth day and onward. [No, because] Scripture says: [For
ask now concerning] the first [days, which were before you] (Deut. 4:32a). ...
One might think: [One is entitled] to know what is above the heavens and what is below
the abyss. [No, because] Scripture says: From one end of the heavens to the other end
of the heavens (Deut. 4:32c).!®

This unit has nothing to do with the Merkavah; rather, it illustrates the Mishnah’s
prohibition against dealing with cosmological matters. This is also made clear
in the Tosefta’s opening phrase, which quotes the Mishnah sentence: “Anyone
who gazes at four things, it would be merciful to/fitting for him if he had not

163 ¢ Hagigah 2:7; y Hagigah 2:1/33f., fol. 7c; b Hagigah 1b.

164 See the detailed analysis in Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 100-
is the ambigu-
103. Pace Halperin, I believe, however, that the initial cause of the confusion
what after.”
ous phrase in m Hagigah 2:1: “what is above and what below, what is before and
clearly refers to a spatial category, the second part can be
Whereas the first part of this mishnah
understood as either spatial or temporal.
165 The Bavli version is close to the Yerushalmi.
166 Tit. “it could be.”
before the world
167 There follows, solely in the Yerushalmi, a brief sentence stating: “But,
the world was created,
was created, you expound and your heart agrees. From the time when
statement plainly con-
you go and your voice goes from one end of the world to the other.” This
and I regard it as the addition of an editor who wants to tone down — by
tradicts the first clause,
— the strict message: Do not tamper
distinguishing between private and public study of Genesis
with the time before creation!
210 Chapter 6

come into the world: what is above and what below, what is before and what
after,”!®8 Accordingly, both the Yerushalmi and the Bavli incorporate the unit
into the larger context of their exegesis of the “work of creation” and not of the
“work of the Merkavah.”
Our midrash illustrates the Mishnah prohibition with an exegesis of Deut. 4:32,
using the classical exegetic terminology of “one might think” (vakhol) and
“Scripture says” (talmud lomar): the yakhol clause introduces a hypothetical
understanding of a biblical verse that is refuted by another biblical verse (in our
case, parts of the same verse that illuminate each other).!®° It is developed here
in three steps:
1. If you think that “ask now concerning the first days, which were before you”
(Deut. 4:32a) refers to the time before the beginning of the creation, you are plain
wrong, because the Bible continues with Deut. 4:32b, which limits your inquiry
to the time from which you (man) were (was) created, that is, the sixth day.
2. If, however, you conclude from this that you may only inquire into the time
after man’s creation (that is, after the sixth day), you are wrong again, because
Deut. 4:32a clearly says: ask concerning the days which were before you, that
is, from day one of creation to day six.!7°
3. If you finally believe that you may inquire into the realm above heaven
and below the abyss (the Netherworld), you are wrong once more, because
Deut. 4:32c limits your curiosity to the visible cosmos.'7!

Hence our last unit defines the temporal and spatial dimensions of the created
world: the time before God commenced his creation is off limits, as is the realm
of heaven (most likely the seven heavens, according to rabbinic cosmology) and
of the Netherworld.'”? In restricting human thirst for knowledge to the visible
world, our author may even implicitly wish to launch an attack against those who
are (too) eager to explore the Merkavah.

Summary

We started our journey to the rabbinic Merkavah with the Mishnah and Tosefta
texts, which deal with the public exposition of Ezek. 1 in a synagogue setting.
Whereas the Tosefta proudly declares that “many expounded the Merkavah”

168 m Hagigah 2:1; t Hagigah 2:7.

‘©? Bacher, Exegetische Terminologie, vol. 1, p. 72.
‘9 The Bavli version makes this clearer: “One might think: one might not inquire concern-
ing the six days of creation.”
"7! Since the heaven in rabbinic cosmology was understood as a vault covering the earth
ipereetyes as a disc), the verse means: the earth and the realm between earth and heaven.
* On rabbinic cosmology, see Schiifer, “In Heaven as It Is in Hell.”
 The Rabbis I D1

(t Megillah 3[4]:28) and that Ezek. 1 was indeed read to the public (t Megillah 3
[4]:34), the Mishnah denies any such custom and flatly declares that Ezek. 1
must not be used as Haftarah (m Megillah 4:10). Whatever the reason for such
contradictory opinions — apparently the Tosefta is more lenient and the Mishnah
stricter in its approach to the Merkavah — both of them talk about the public pres-
entation and exegesis of the biblical text of Ezek. 1 and not about some kind of
mystical experience (whatever that might entail).
Then we encountered the Mishnah’s famous restriction concerning certain
biblical topics (m Hagigah 2:1), which is at the center of all the subsequent rab-
binic preoccupation with the Merkavah. It shifts the emphasis from the public
realm of the synagogue to a more private teacher-student setting and presents the
three subjects of forbidden sexual relations (Lev. 18/20), creation (Gen. 1), and
the Merkavah (Ezek. 1) as an esoteric discipline reserved for an elite of only a
select few. I suggest that the emphasis is on the creation and the Merkavah, and
that both subjects are understood as exegetical exercises, not as ecstatic experi-
ences aiming at an ascent to the Merkavah: the exegesis of Gen. | and Ezek. 1
is dangerous in that it threatens to infringe on God’s privacy, a realm that the
rabbis were fiercely protective of. The rabbis of the Mishnah apparently shrank
away from physically getting too close to God.
The seven units, attached to the Mishnah in the Tosefta (and scattered over
the Yerushalmi and the Bavli in different contexts), all attempt to illustrate the
Mishnah’s restriction, although, in some earlier or “original” version they may
have had a life of their own. The first unit, Eleazar b. Arakh’s successful exposi-
tion of the Merkavah in front of his teacher Yohanan b. Zakkai, seeks to under-
score the Mishnah’s restriction: there are only a select few students who fulfill
the Mishnah’s requirement of autonomous understanding, but they do exist,
and Eleazer b. Arakh is among them. The parallel versions of this story in the
Yerushalmi and the Bavli, with fire coming down from heaven and the angel
approving the student’s exposition, may reflect an (earlier?) stage at which any
successful exegesis of difficult passages in the Torah was perceived as an reen-
actment of the revelation on Mount Sinai (the Oral Torah of the rabbis comple-
menting the Written Torah given by God to Moses). When the rabbis do their
job properly, God comes down to earth again. However, just as Moses did not
see God on Mount Sinai face to face, so too do the rabbis not see God (but un-
like Moses, they do not even want to see God). They communicate with God
the
through exegesis — this is the closest they dare to approach God. Within
context of the Merkavah, the successful exegesis of Ezek. | is the reenactment
a
of Ezekiel’s vision: approaching God through exegesis, certainly not through
the Yerushalmi and Bavli versions
heavenly journey. Finally, the addendum in
Only in the
promises the blessed student a secure place in heaven after death.
discover clear traces of an
Bavli, with its explicit invitation to ascend, do we
a move from an exegeti-
intrusion of the Merkavah mystical ascent tradition:
212 Chapter 6

cal exercise, exciting as it may be, to the new experience of an ascent to heaven
during one’s own lifetime.
The second unit establishes a chain of transmission from Yohanan b. Zakkai to
Hananyah b. Hakinai (a student of R. Aqiva). It is only from the context of this
unit that we can infer, and quite safely so, that the subject of this transmission
refers to the successful Merkavah exegesis. Why this chain is so short, we do
not know. One can only suspect that the editor of this unit was very pessimistic
about the future of the Merkavah’s proper study.
The story of the four rabbis who entered the garden (unit 3) also focuses on the
experience of exegesis. The subject of such exegeses may originally have been
certain hidden mysteries in the Torah’s text, in a still undefined sense, that are
not accessible to everyone. However, in its present context, the story is no doubt
preoccupied with the exegesis of the Merkavah, that is, of Ezek. 1. I posit that
in its original form this unit had nothing to do with a vision of the Merkavah, al-
though I admit that it reveals clear signs (in some manuscripts) of editorial inter-
ventions in the text attempting to adapt it to the ascent tradition in the technical
(Merkavah mystical) sense of the word. Yet I also maintain that these interven-
tions reflect a later stage of development under the influence of what is called
Merkavah mysticism. This influence becomes apparent in the Bavli’s import of
the water test into the pardes story.
The same is true for the two parables of the king’s garden and of the public
road (units 4 and 5). The observer in the king’s garden gazes at those marvels
of the Scripture that are not accessible to everyone: he may look at them and
understand them, but he may not go too far in this enterprise (whatever this en-
tails — in his exposition or his personal experience thereof). Similarly, the one
who walks on the road of Torah exegesis should steer a safe middle course lest
he be burned by its extremes. Again, within the present context, at stake here is
the exegesis of the Merkavah in particular.
Finally, the two last units, Ben Zoma’s strange experience and the exegesis
of Deut. 4:32, openly set out to illustrate the Mishnah’s limitation with regard
to the exegesis of the “work of creation.” Ben Zoma is deeply absorbed in this
project — with devastating results for his own life — and the midrash on Deut. 4:32
defines the temporal and spatial dimensions of the world created by God and
made accessible to his creatures. Everything that is outside these carefully de-
marcated parameters, in particular God’s own intrinsically “private” realm, is off
limits. Very few rabbis are capable of entering the dangerous minefield of Gen.
1 exegesis — and even fewer survive this curiosity of theirs unharmed.
This, I posit, is the overall message of the stories illustrating and illuminating
the Mishnah’s harsh restriction: do not meddle with the two most difficult and
dangerous parts of the Bible, the “work of creation” (Gen. 1) and the “work of
the Merkavah” (Ezek. 1). They are both so sensitive and delicate, as they affect
the “glory of the creator” — a matter not to be trifled with. If you cannot restrain
 The Rabbis I 213

yourself from entering them, be aware that you put your life at risk and that very
few of your colleagues have succeeded in this daunting task. All of the seven
units were originally concerned with the exegesis of these passages as an eso-
teric discipline. Unlike their predecessors, who penned the ascent apocalypses,
the rabbis seek their God through exegesis, and not through a heavenly journey.
They do not set out to see God; they content themselves with the excitement of
discovering him in his Torah. There can be no doubt, however, that some of the
stories, most notably in the Bavli versions, betray the influence of the Merkavah
mystical ascent experience.
 Chapter 7

The Rabbis II
The Merkavah in Context

We have looked at certain passages, mainly in the Mishnah and the Tosefta (with
their respective parallels in the Yerushalmi and the Bavli), that deal with the
rabbinic treatment of the Merkavah, that is, the rabbinic exposition of the first
chapter of Ezekiel. These selected passages revolve around the public reading
and translation of Ezek. 1 in the synagogue service, as well as the Mishnah’s
quite straightforward prohibition of teaching the Merkavah to a student. The
Mishnah’s prohibition triggered a number of (presumably originally independ-
ent) stories that are collected in the Tosefta and scattered, in a different order,
throughout the Yerushalmi and the Bavli. Having analyzed the stories in the
Tosefta collection separately, I will now focus on the structure in which they are
presented in the Yerushalmi and the Bavli.

Yerushalmi

The Yerushalmi! opens the discourse on the anonymous Mishnah (prohibition or

rather restriction of the exposition of forbidden sexual relations/ work of crea-
tion/Merkavah) with an attempt to identify the author(s) of its three sections
and hence the valid halakhic practice. As to the Mishnah’s ruling on forbidden
sexual relations, following an early Amoraic tradition (R. Ba in the name of Rav
Yehudah) it determines R. Aqiva to be the author and proponent, who, however,
encounters disagreement from the side of his opponent R. Ishmael, according to
whom one does teach the prohibitions of Lev. 18. In order to decide between the
two perennial antagonists, the common practice (‘uvda) is invoked, and, since
R. Ammi* is known to have publicly taught biblical prohibitions with regard to
homosexual intercourse, it is decided that the valid Halakhah is according to R.
Ishmael and not according to R. Aqiva.

' y Hagigah 2:1/1-2:1/33, fol. 77a—c. On this section, see Halperin, The Merkabah in Rab-
binic Literature, pp. 27-29, 69-74, 141-152; see also the excellent German translation by Gerd
A. Wewers, Hagiga: Festopfer (Tiibingen: J.C. B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1983), pp. 32 ff.
? A Palestinian Amora in Tiberias of the third generation of Palestinian Amoraim.
 The Rabbis II 215

The same is true for the Mishnah’s second ruling on the work of creation.
Again, R. Aqiva is identified as the author and proponent of this mishnah, R.
Ishmael disagrees, and the quest for common practice yields the fact that R.
Yehudah b. Pazzi did indeed publicly expound matters of creation; hence it
is determined that the Halakhah is according to R. Ishmael. After providing an
example of Yehudah b. Pazzi’s exegesis — he proves with a series of biblical
verses, culminating in Amos 4:13 and Ps. 148:8, that the physical world “hangs”
on nothing more substantial than the wind and the storm, which in turn “hang”
like some kind of amulet on God’s arm — the Yerushalmi editor finally arrives at
the third ruling on the Merkavah. Here he declares that the Mishnah is not just
according to R. Aqiva; rather, this ruling reflects the universal opinion “in order
that one may know to be concerned about the honor of his creator” (obviously
taking up the phrase from the last sentence of m Hagigah 2:1). Yet again, in what
follows, Aqiva and the universal opinion meet with opposition corroborated by
common practice (see below).
Hence the Yerushalmi editor’s tendency becomes clear from the outset: he is
apparently more lenient than the Mishnah. The practice, which in the end deter-
mines the valid Halakhah, contradicts the Mishnah’s = Aqiva’s overly strict rul-
ing. The details concerning forbidden sexual relations may indeed be publicly
taught, the process of creation may be explained, and, despite universal opinion,
even the Merkavah may be discussed between teacher and student (under certain
provisions). The fact that R. Aqiva, of all rabbis, is identified as the author of the
stricter mishnah reveals a sense of consistency (if not humor) on the part of our
Yerushalmi editor, since it is Agiva who, according to units 2 and 3 of the story
cycle in the Tosefta, the Yerushalmi, and the Bavli, acts as the prime example of
someone who satisfies the rigorous condition of a scholar who understands on
his own and is in no need of explicit instruction by his teacher.
The opponent of the Mishnah’s strict ruling regarding the Merkavah is not
R. Ishmael but Rav, the famous Babylonian Amora of the first half of the third
century who studied in Palestine with R. Yehudah ha-Nasi. His response to the
Yerushalmi’s statement that the Mishnah’s ruling on the Merkavah is not accord-
ing to Aqiva but to “universal opinion” is textually difficult and much discussed
in scholarly literature.* The editio princeps of the Yerushalmi (Venice 1523 f.)
reads:
pres-
Did not Rav say (against this): No one is permitted to say anything in his master’s
served (ella im ken ra’ah o shimmesh) .
ence (ke-neged rabbo), unless he has seen or
beginning , his master opens for him the openings of the
How does he do it? In the
verses (rashei pesugim), and agrees (u-maskim ).°

3 Palestinian Amora of the fourth generation, in Lydda.

Wewers, Hagiga, p. 35,
4 See Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 141 ff;
with nn. 13 and 14.
5 y Hagigah 2:1/7, fol. 77a.
216 Chapter 7

Much of this enigmatic statement remains unclear. First, what does it mean that
the student of the Merkavah needs to have “seen” or “served”? If we take it as
a reference to the vision of the Merkavah, “seen” of course would mean that
the student is required to have seen the Merkavah first before he can begin ex-
pounding it in the presence of his master. But this explanation does not fit the
context because “seen” is closely linked to “served,” and even the most ardent
proponent of the ecstatic experience of the Merkavah in rabbinic Judaism has
not come up with the suggestion to interpret “seen” and “served” here as “unless
he has seen the Merkavah or served it.” The verb shimmesh clearly refers to the
student-teacher relationship and means something like “unless the student has
duly and appropriately served his teacher” (which Eleazar b. Arakh does so ef-
ficiently in the first story of the Tosefta cycle); hence, “seen” makes little sense
in our present (Merkavah) context.
Equally problematic is the second part of the statement, the actual descrip-
tion of how student and teacher proceed with regard to their exposition of the
Merkavah. To be sure, the teacher is required to make accessible to the student
the rashei pesugim, presumably the rudiments of the biblical text — but how do
we explain the continuation “and agrees”? Who agrees, the student or the mas-
ter? That the student agrees with the master makes no sense; judging from the
structure of the dictum, it is much more likely that after the master has made the
rudiments accessible to the student, the student fills in the rest (that is, supplies
a full exposition of the Merkavah) and that finally the master approves of and
agrees with the student’s performance (either explicitly or silently).° Alterna-
tively, one might suggest — following some parallels — that it is the student who,
after having heard his master’s version of the rudiments, expounds the Merkavah
and agrees with the received tradition/Halakhah.’ This explanation follows the
pattern in a dialogue between R. Tarfon and R. Agiva. In a difficult halakhic
matter,’ Aqiva opposes Tarfon’s Halakhah, and Tarfon is furious (because he
relies on a custom that he has witnessed, whereas Aqiva merely reaches an ex-
egetical conclusion), but Aqiva convinces him that he (Aqiva) is right. Struck
by Aqiva’s exegetic ingenuity, Tarfon exclaims:
By God, you have not invented it! Happy are you, Abraham our father, that Aqiva has
gone forth from your loins. Tarfon saw (ra’ah) [a certain custom] but forgot. Aqiva
expounds by himself (doresh me-‘atzmo) and agrees with the Halakhah (u-maskim le-
halakhah).?

® See the commentaries Penei Moshe and Qorban ha-‘Edah, ad loc.

7 Wewers, Hagiga, p. 35, n. 14; Bacher, Exegetische Terminologie, vol. 1, p. 132.
8 As to whether Num. 10:8 (“The sons of Aaron, the priests, shall blow the trumpets”) refers
only to unblemished priests or also to priests with a blemish (ba ‘alei mum), Tarfon includes
the blemished priests whereas Aqiva reserves the blowing of the trumpets for unblemished
priests alone.
* Sifre Numbers, § 75 (ed. Horovitz, p. 70). In the parallels y Megillah 1:12/9 (fol. 72b), y
 The Rabbis II 217

This is a remarkable parallel to our enigmatic Yerushalmi passage.'° Not only

does it provide us with a subject and an object of our difficult maskim (the sub-
ject is definitely the student, and the object is the received Halakhah); it also
explains the incomprehensible “unless he has seen (ra’ah)” in our Yerushalmi
passage. In the Tarfon-Aqiva dialogue the conflict is about a custom that one
rabbi (Tarfon) actually saw practiced (which usually takes halakhic priority)
versus a mere exegetical procedure exercised by another rabbi (Aqiva), and
Agqiva does not argue that the custom is wrong but rather that Tarfon’s memory
is erroneous (and hence his own exegetical conclusion is correct). Accordingly,
in our Yerushalmi passage the phrase “unless he has seen or served” means: the
student is only permitted to say something in his master’s presence if he has
actually seen a certain custom or if he has served his master long enough to be
able to develop his own argument, building on what he has learned from the
master. The second sentence then explains how they proceed (if the condition
of having served applies): the master summarizes the rudiments of the halakhic
problem in question, the student fills in the details and, if successful, agrees with
the Halakhah.
Seen in this larger context, there can be no doubt that the subject matter of our
Yerushalmi introduction to the following Merkavah stories is concerned with the
proper exegesis of the Merkavah, that is, of Ezek. 1, and not with some kind of
ecstatic experience. It is certainly no coincidence that Aqiva, deriving the correct
Halakhah from exegesis, receives the same blessing as Eleazar b. Arakh after his
successful exposition of the Merkavah in the first unit of the Tosefta’s Merkavah
cycle: “Happy are you, Abraham our father, that Eleazar b. Arakh has gone forth
from your loins.”!! Proper exegesis, of whatever halakhic or aggadic subject, de-
serves the appropriate blessing by one’s colleague or teacher.
This interpretation is finally corroborated by the fact that our introductory
passage in the Yerushalmi originally had nothing to do with the Merkavah. The
only complete manuscript of the Yerushalmi (Ms. Leiden, finished in 1289 cE),
serving as the basis for the editio princeps, provides us with a very different ver-
sion of Rav’s statement:
Did not Rav say (against this): No one is permitted to say anything concerning the af-
fliction of leprosy (be-nega‘ tzara‘at), unless he has seen or served.

the object is
Yoma 1:1/37 (fol. 38d), y Horayot 3:3/37 (fol. 47d), and cf. also b Zevahim 13a,
“and agrees with the traditional legal decision (shemu ‘ah).”
recog-
10 Noticed by Wewers, expanding on Bacher (see above, n. 7), and not sufficiently
ingenuity in translat-
nized by Halperin, Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, pp. 143 ff. Wewer’s
death sufficiently
ing and explaining the Yerushalmi cannot be praised enough (nor his untimely
been the last person not
lamented). Certainly, his translation contains mistakes (he would have
other translation into a
to agree with this judgment), but still, his translation is superior to any
modern language.
11 See above, p. 187.
218 Chapter 7

The second corrector of the Leiden manuscript corrected be-nega‘ tzara ‘at to ke-
neged rabbo (“in his master’s presence”), changing the meaning of the sentence
completely.!* I take the “affliction of leprosy” reading as the original one — with-
out going into much detail (mainly because it is the lectio difficilior and because
ke-neged rabbo is a strange phrase for “in his master’s presence”: one would
expect bifnei ot lifnei rabbo) ' — meaning: a student may only deal with the Ha-
lakhah regarding leprosy if he has actually “seen”!* evidence of skin disorders
or if he has attended a teacher. The reading “in his master’s presence” is but a
secondary attempt on the part of a medieval scribe to adapt Rav’s dictum about
leprosy to the subject of the Merkavah. Hence, originally Rav’s statement is just
another example of how master and student cooperate successfully with regard
to difficult exegetical matters. With a few strokes of the pen, the scribe changed
the original meaning completely.
But if this is indeed the case, why did the Yerushalmi editor include Rav’s
dictum in his introduction to the following cycle of Merkavah stories in the
first place? Although the content clearly does not fit, the structure does: both
the mishnah in Hagigah 2:1 and Rav’s dictum begin with a negation (en, “one
does not X”) and continue with an affirmation (e//a im ken, “unless Y”), hence
both determine under which circumstances a student is permitted to expound the
Merkavah or to discuss the affliction of leprosy. This formal affinity may have
prompted the Yerushalmi editor to refer to Rav’s dictum. Yet if this reference
is meant to be more than just an empty association — and there is every reason
to believe that the editor had a purpose in quoting it — then its meaning must be
gauged by its immediate context. This context, as I have shown above, is a se-
ries of three dicta, all supplied to prove that the mishnah attributed to R. Aqiva is
not to be regarded as a valid Halakhah: (1) contrary to Aqiva, one does expound
the prohibitions regarding forbidden sexual relations, (2) contrary to Aqiva,
one does expound the work of creation, and now (3) contrary to universal opin-
ion (including Agqiva), a student who has seen the evidence or who has served
his teacher does expound the affliction of leprosy — or, indeed, expounds the
Merkavah. In other words, the Yerushalmi editor uses Rav’s dictum in order to
argue against m Hagigah 2:1: whereas the Mishnah declares that only a scholar
who understands on his own may expound the Merkavah, our Yerushalmi editor
adapts Rav’s dictum to the Merkavah and interprets it in the sense that a student
may raise the subject in his master’s presence if he has seen the proper evidence
(presumably one who has been eyewitness to a respective custom, probably in
the synagogue) or has served his teacher and received the appropriate instruc-
tion. As in the first two cases, this is quite the opposite of what the Mishnah de-

'2 See the documentation of the correction in y Hagigah 2:1/7.

2 bes the thorough discussion in Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature,
pp. 143 ff. :
' In this context the “seen” makes perfect sense.
 The Rabbis II 219

crees.'> Now the student does not need to understand on his own; he just needs
the proper education. The medieval scribe, who changed the wording of Rav’s
dictum, made the Yerushalmi editor’s implicit intention explicit.
The final passage in the Yerushalmi’s introductory section (before the Yeru-
shalmi turns to the cycle of stories illustrating the Mishnah’s prohibition) pro-
vides the first example of a student expounding the Merkavah — unfortunately
an unsuccessful one:!°
R. Hiyya said in the name of R. Yohanan: Rabbi had a distinguished student (talmid
watiq), and he expounded (darash) a chapter of the work of the Merkavah (ma ‘aseh
merkavah), but Rabbi did not agree (we-lo hiskimah da ‘ato shel rabbi),'’ and he [the
student] was smitten with leprosy.!®

This brief story artfully takes up elements from the preceding dictum by Rav:
the student — no doubt one who has properly served his rabbi and learned from
him (a talmid watig is a faithful and distinguished student) — expounds a chapter
of the Merkavah!? (obviously of Ezekiel), but his master outright disagrees.”°
This disapproval has fatal consequences: the poor student is immediately smit-
ten with leprosy, a direct reference to Rav’s original dictum about leprosy. What
is more important (and quite conspicuous) is the fact that Rabbi is singled out
as someone in whose presence a student expounds the Merkavah. “Rabbi,” of
course, is R. Yehudah ha-Nasi, editor of the Mishnah, but hitherto we have not
encountered him as a teacher concerned with the exposition of the Merkavah. On
the contrary, in the Tosefta cycle of Merkavah stories the usual suspects are Yo-
hanan b. Zakkai with his favored pupil, Eleazar b. Arakh, as the prime example
of a successful student (unit 1), Yohanan b. Zakkai, R. Yehoshua, R. Agiva, and
Hananyah b. Hakinai (unit 2), Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Aher, and R. Aqiva (unit
3), and Ben Zoma (unit 6). Moreover, and most remarkable, it is the Yerushalmi
that concludes the chain of Merkavah transmission in unit 2 with the sentence,
chain
“From then on, their knowledge is not pure,””! explicitly stating that the
example of
breaks off with Hananyah b. Hakinai, a student of Aqiva. Hence, the
Rabbi’s anonymous student plainly contradicts the tradition regarding the chain
did indeed
of transmission — unless one wishes to read it as proof that the chain
break off with Hananyah b. Hakinai and that no other effort was ever successful.
with, there
But I would not leap to such a seemingly logical conclusion. To begin
suggest that the com-
15 Pace Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 145: “I
A [Rav’s dictum] because it underlin ed the perceive d message of M.
piler included section
Hag. 2:1.”
16 y Hagigah 2:1/8, fol. 77a.
17 Lit. “and Rabbi’s opinion did not agree (with him).”
18 Lit. “boils.”
m Hagigah 2:1, which
19 Note that here the full phrase ma ‘aseh merkavah is used, unlike
refers only to merkavah .
of hiskim.
20 Hence, here it is definitely the master who is the subject
21 y Hagigah 2:1/14, fol. 77b; see above, p. 196.
220 Chapter 7

is no editorial connection in the Yerushalmi between the story about Rabbi’s

student and the chain of Merkavah transmission;*? moreover, and more impor-
tant, the story about Rabbi’s student is clearly meant to illustrate the preceding
dictum by Rav (a student who has served his master properly may expound the
Merkavah). Therefore, despite his status as a “distinguished student,” Rabbi’s
student was unsuccessful because he did not fulfill this requirement — unfortu-
nately, he was not distinguished enough, and failed.
If this interpretation is correct, it follows that the Yerushalmi editor seeks to
emphasize that even R. Yehudah ha-Nasi, of all rabbis, instructed some of his
students in the exposition of the Merkavah — the same R. Yehudah who declares
in his Mishnah that only a student who is wise and understands on his own may
deal properly with the Merkavah! That a certain student perchance failed hardly
proves the opposite; on the contrary, it underlines the fact that, according to the
Yerushalmi, the Mishnah editor and some of his students were engaged in the ex-
position of the Merkavah. This is again a dramatic deviation from the Mishnah’s
prohibition/restriction and clear evidence of the Yerushalmi’s more lenient ap-
proach to the subject of Merkavah exegesis.
After this introductory section the Yerushalmi proceeds with presenting the
cycle of Merkavah/creation stories in the following order: unit 5 (the parable of
the middle course on the road), unit 1 (Yohanan b. Zakkai and Eleazar b. Arakh,
with the long addition about Joseph ha-Kohen and Shim‘on b. Netan’el), unit
6 (Ben Zoma and creation), unit 2 (the chain of transmission), unit 3 [a] (the
pardes story: up to Aher), unit 3 [b] (the Aqiva part of the pardes story), unit 7
(creation), and finally unit 4 (parable of the king’s garden). In choosing the par-
able of the road as his first story and introducing it with “This Torah (ha-torah
ha-zu) resembles two paths,” the Yerushalmi editor makes clear that he is deal-
ing with multiple Torah passages and does not wish to limit the story cycle to the
subject of the Merkavah, or, to put it differently, that he does not subsume under
the Mishnah’s Merkavah lemma only those stories related to the Merkavah in
the strictest sense of the word (although, as we have seen, he does try to adapt
some of them to the Merkavah subject). Of all the cycle’s stories the parable of
the road is the most open-ended one that can, however, be easily accommodated
to the topic of the Merkavah.
With unit 1 following unit 5 and elaborating extensively on the students’ ex-
position of the Merkavah, the Yerushalmi editor nevertheless emphasizes his
particular interest in the Merkavah exegesis. However, when it continues with
unit 6 about Ben Zoma’s fatal destiny, the Yerushalmi apparently moves on to
the subject of creation, because it wishes to make clear that it regards the subject

*2 After the story about Rabbi’s student (which completes the Yerushalmi’s introduction
to the cycle of Merkavah stories) follow units 5, 1, 6, and then unit 2 (the chain of transmis-
sion).
 The Rabbis II 221

of creation as equally important. This sequence is markedly different from the

Tosefta, which keeps the Merkavah and the creation stories together. Again, in
introducing the following unit 2 with “Three lectured their Torah (hirtzu tora-
tan) before their master” — instead of just “R. X lectured before R. Y,” as in the
Tosefta — the Yerushalmi may wish to be deliberately ambiguous with regard to
the subject of the students’ lecture (although, to be sure, in its present context,
the Yerushalmi editor wants the subject to be understood as the Merkavah). Mov-
ing to unit 3, the Yerushalmi returns once more to the Merkavah, but it splits
the story of the four rabbis who entered pardes: having reached the arch-heretic
Aher, it interrupts the unit with a first bunch of Aher stories. (Who is Aher, and
what did he do?)?3 Then it concludes unit 3 with Aqiva and adds another, much
larger section of stories related to Aher (R. Meir, Aher’s student; Aher’s circum-
cision; again R. Meir and Aher; why did Aher become apostate; Aher’s death;
R. Meir’s reaction; Aher’s daughters).74 Clearly, our Yerushalmi editor is much
more interested in Aher’s destiny than in elucidating the pardes story. Moreover,
his collection of Aher stories sheds no light whatsoever on what happened to the
four rabbis in the pardes — this remains as enigmatic as ever.
After this long digression the Yerushalmi turns to the subject of creation again;
hence it would seem that the editor, within the overall structure of his explana-
tion of the Mishnah lemma, opens with the Torah in the broadest sense of the
term and then alternates between the two topics of the Merkavah and creation.
Quantitatively, his treatment of the creation takes up considerably more space
than his treatment of the Merkavah.”> The material that he collects here is to a
large extent parallel to the collection of midrashim in Bereshit Rabbah.” He be-
gins with a quotation from the noncanonical book Ben Sira that aptly underlines
the Mishnah’s warning against gazing at what is above and below, before and
after: “Why do you want to know what is hidden from you; why do you inves-
tigate that which is deeper than the Netherworld? Reflect upon what you have
been given permission, for what is hidden is not your concern.””’ Then some

23 y Hagigah 2:1/15 end — 2:1/17, fol. 77b.

24 y Hagigah 2:1/18, fol. 77b — 2:1/29, fol. 7c.
the Mishnah
25 Tt is worth emphasizing that the subject of creation is largely treated under
Mishnah lemma
lemma of the Merkavah; the material that the editor collects under the (proper)
of the work of creation is extremely meager.
Palastinas: Zur
26 On this, see Hans-Jiirgen Becker, Die grofen rabbinischen Sammelwerke
(Tiibingen: Mohr
literarischen Genese von Talmud Yerushalmi und Midrasch Bereshit Rabba
Siebeck, 1999), pp. 16-60.
some remarkable
27 y Hagigah 2:1/30, fol. 7c. This is a version of Ben Sira 3:21 f., with ben
Z. Segal, ed., Sefer
deviations from the Hebrew text of Ben Sira known to us; see Moshe
1958), ad loc. Most conspicu ous is “why do you
Sira ha-shalem, (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute,
te that which is deeper than the Netherwo rld” in the Yerushal mi versus “what is hidden
investiga
(Die groBen rabbinischen
from you do not investigate” in Ben Sira. As Becker has suggested
Sira quotation to the Mishnah’s
Sammelwerke, p. 20), it may well be an attempt to adapt the Ben
“what is above and what below.”
205 Chapter 7

midrashim follow that warn against dealing with the work of creation because
it infringes on the glory of the creator — a direct allusion to the Mishnah’s con-
tempt for someone who has no concern for the honor/glory of his creator. Added
finally is unit 7, which defines those temporal and spatial dimensions of the cre-
ated world accessible to human curiosity.
But this is not yet the end of the Yerushalmi’s explanation of the Mishnah’s
lemma on the Merkavah. After unit 7, more midrashim are added that deal
with the creation (again parallel to the material in Bereshit Rabbah: the letters
through which the world was created;”* the famous parable about the palace of
the king that is built on a site of sewers, dunghills, and garbage;”? the much de-
bated question as to whether heaven or earth was created first),°° and between
them our Yerushalmi editor has sandwiched unit 4 (the parable of the king’s
garden). As I have noted above, this context is clear proof that the Yerushalmi
interprets the parable as part of the exegesis of Genesis and most definitely not
of the Merkavah.
Altogether, our Yerushalmi editor has provided us with a remarkable recast of
the story cycle illuminating m Hagigah 2:1. He furnishes it with an introduction
that displays a much more lenient attitude toward teaching the Merkavah than
the Mishnah itself. Moreover, he arranges the stories in an order — and places
them in a context — that leaves no doubt that he is concerned with the exegesis
of problematic Bible passages, that he puts even more weight on exposition of
the work of creation than on exposition of the work of the Merkavah, and that
he is equally (if not more) interested in details left out in the original stories (for
example, the tragic fate of Aher). The strict ruling of the Mishnah is softened,
but there is no indication whatsoever of a move beyond the realm of exegesis
and toward a visionary experience of the Merkavah.

Bavli

The Bavli’s discussion of the three components of m Hagigah 2:1 is much

more comprehensive and complex than any of its parallels; it extends from fol.
11b to fol. 16a in tractate Hagigah. Clearly, the Bavli editor has made an effort
to collect most of the relevant material — in particular about creation and the
Merkavah — under the appropriate Mishnah lemma. After a brief discussion of
the textual problem caused by the variant reading in the Mishnah regarding the
preposition be- versus /e-, which refers to all three components,?! and followed

28 Bereshit Rabbah 1:10.

29 Bereshit Rabbah 1:5.
30 Bereshit Rabbah 1:15.
31 b Hagigah 11b.
 The Rabbis II 223

by its (rather brief) comment on forbidden sexual relationships,*” the Bavli turns
to the work of creation.*? I have dealt with this sugiah elsewhere** and so will
summarize here only a few of the more important points.
The Talmud begins, interestingly enough, with the midrash on Deut. 4:32 con-
cerning the boundaries of any acceptable inquiry into cosmogony (the creation
of the cosmos) and cosmology (the makeup and structure of the cosmos), that
is, unit 7 in the Tosefta cycle — making clear by this that some of the material
subsumed in the Tosefta under the lemma “Merkavah” indeed belongs to the
work of creation (or, to put it differently, that the work of creation and the work
of the Merkavah overlap). After a brief digression on the size of the first man,
the Talmud proceeds with a description of the ten things that were created on the
first day and of ten divine attributes through which the world was created. The
discussion of the creation of heaven and earth (which came first?) moves to the
famous midrash about the world hanging as an amulet on God’s arm, transmit-
ted in the Yerushalmi in the name of R. Yehudah b. Pazzi.*> The Bavli, however,
instead of being interested in cosmological details, stresses the fact that the pil-
lars or the pillar on which the world rests are the twelve tribes or the proverbial
righteous, regarded as the “foundation of the world” (Prov. 10:35). Hence, the
Bavli is less concerned with cosmology than with ethics: the world is sustained
through the proper behavior of Israel, in particular the efforts of the righteous,
and ultimately the world’s physical makeup is irrelevant.
The same is true for the Bavli’s lengthy discourse about the seven heavens. To
be sure, it gives some cosmological information, but the relevant traditions are
interrupted by or rather supplemented with material about the study of the Torah
and proper ethical behavior. Most revealing is the Bavli’s inventory of the sev-
enth heaven, ‘Aravot. For the Bavli, this highest heaven is primarily a storehouse
and
of good things that are beneficial to Israel (such as righteousness, justice,
the souls of the righteous and
justness, the treasures of life, peace, and blessing,
the dew with which God will
the souls that will be born in the future, and finally
God and
revive the dead). Again, the emphasis is on the relationship between
is all about: the
Israel, not on cosmology, let alone on what Ezekiel’s first chapter
heads and
vision of God seated on his throne in the uppermost heaven above the
this shortcom-
wings of the four creatures. The Bavli editor is obviously aware of
heaven as God’s
ing (from the point of view of those interested in the seventh

32 Tbid.
33 b Hagigah 11b-13a.
Appropriation of Apoca-
34 Peter Schafer, “From Cosmology to Theology: The Rabbinic ion in Jew-
eds., Creation and Re-Creat
lyptic Cosmology,” in Rachel Elior and Peter Schafer,
ish Thought: Festschrift in Honor of Joseph Dan on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday
(Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), pp. 39-58.
35 See above, p. 215.
224 Chapter 7

dwelling place), for he continues almost reluctantly, as if he has been suddenly

reminded of something that he would have preferred to ignore:
There (too) are the Ofannim and the Seraphim and the holy creatures and the minister-
ing angels and the throne of glory, (and) the King, the living God, high and exalted,
dwells above them in ‘Aravot, as it is written: Extol him who rides upon ‘Aravot,*°
Yah is his name (Ps. 68:5).’

This is indeed the inventory that someone — having Ezekiel, the ascent apoca-
lypses, and not least the Hekhalot literature in mind — might expect. More pre-
cisely, as I have shown, the Bavli’s language is deeply imbued here with the lan-
guage of the apocalyptic and, in particular, the Hekhalot literature.>® Yet in fact
the Bavli unabashedly betrays the very goal of this literature. For it continues to
explain that the God residing in the seventh heaven is hidden behind an impen-
etrable thicket of darkness; in other words, that God, despite our knowledge of
the inventory of the seventh heaven, cannot be attained to or seen. This cosmo-
logical anticlimax is further underscored by the last unit of the Bavli’s sugiah
about the creation: a midrash presented as a Baraitha and ironically put into the
mouth of Yohanan b. Zakkai, the hero of the Tosefta’s Merkavah cycle, which
serves as the editor’s bridge between the creation and the Merkavah lemmas.°?
This midrash is a devastating critique of King Nebuchadnezzar’s (the rabbis’
arch-villain) attempt to ascend to heaven (Isa. 14:14). Instead of reaching the
goal of his hubris, the midrash informs us, Nebuchadnezzar will be hurled down
into the She’ol, the innermost part of the Netherworld (Isa. 14:15).
I interpret not only this midrash but much of the Bavli’s exposition of the work
of creation as a polemic against the ascent apocalypses and Merkavah mysticism
in the technical sense of the word — the attempt to actually ascend to heaven and
to see God on his throne. This polemic sets out to make clear that the “science of
the cosmos,” which may lead to such an attempt, is dangerous because it ignores
or forgets what really matters: God’s love for Israel and Israel’s proper response.
God cannot and must not be visited and seen. Anybody who embarks on a heav-
enly journey misses the true purpose of Israel’s destiny in the world.
Now comes the Bavli’s final step, the discourse about the Mishnah’s Merkavah
lemma. It begins with a first unit, attributed to four Palestinian Amoraim of the
third generation, three of whom had emigrated from Babylonia to Palestine.
The first (R. Hiyya) qualifies the Mishnah lemma “nor (may) the Merkavah (be
expounded) to an individual (unless he is wise and understand on his own)’*°

36 Lit. “upon the clouds” or “upon the heavens.”

37 b Hagigah 12b.
*8 Schafer, “From Cosmology to Theology,” pp. 55f.
° b Hagigah 13a.
“° Although the Bavli quotes the Mishnah version “nor the Merkavah by an individual,” its
very first explanation of be- as meaning /e- (see above) and the following discussion make clear
that it is in fact using the version “nor the Merkavah fo an individual.”
 The Rabbis II 225

by allowing that the “rudiments” (rashei peragim)*' may be transmitted to

him — obviously meaning that someone who does not understand on his own may
be taught the rudiments of the Merkavah. This coincides with the Yerushalmi’s
equally more lenient attitude.** The second Amora (R. Zera) seems to qualify R.
Hiyya’s qualification by limiting the transmission of the rudiments to the head
of a (rabbinic) court (av bet din) and to someone “whose heart is anxious with
him.’#3 We know the head of the court from m Hagigah 2:2, of all places — the
mishnah immediately following our mishnah Hagigah 2:1 — where the famous
“pairs” (zugot) of m Avot 1:4 ff. are identified as patriarchs (nesi’im) and heads
of the court (avot bet din), respectively. R. Zera presumably wants to cast the
patriarchs and the heads of the court in a teacher-student relationship: the patri-
archs are the teachers who transmit the rudiments of the Merkavah to the heads
‘of the court. This, of course, is pure fiction, an exercise in scholastic ingenuity,
inspired solely by the fact that the patriarchs and the heads of the court appear in
the mishnah following the mishnah dealing with the Merkavah.“ R. Zera does
not seem to have much real interest in the transmission of the Merkavah — if his
contribution to the subject is not outright irony. The two final statements of this
first section by R. Ammi and R. Assi** broaden the subject of the Merkavah and
restrict the transmission of the “secrets of the Torah” (R. Ammi) or the “words
of the Torah” (R. Assi) to a rabbinic elite** and to Jews (as opposed to Gentiles),
respectively. These two dicta underline the fact that the “Merkavah” is regarded
as a subsection of Torah exegesis.
After this introductory section the Bavli presents two examples of studying
and teaching the “work of the Merkavah.”*’ The first reads as follows:
R. Yohanan said to R. Eleazar: “Come, I will teach you the work of the Merkavah
(ma ‘aseh merkavah).” He [R. Eleazar] answered him: “I am not old enough.”
When he was old enough, R. Yohanan died.
”
R. Assi said to him [R. Eleazar]: “Come, I will teach you the work of the Merkavah.
your
He answered him: “If I had been worthy, I would have learned from R. Yohanan,
teacher.”
pur-
With its dramatis personae Yohanan, Eleazar, and Assi, this strange story is
y referring
portedly set in the historical context of the school of Tiberias, obviousl
(b. Pedat),
to R. Yohanan (b. Nappaha) as the head of the school and R. Eleazar

41 Lit. “beginnings of chapters.“

42 See above, pp. 215 ff.
explanation even further to a
43 The latter is an anonymous tradition qualifying the former
head of the court whose heart is anxious with him.
court with the “pairs” is
44 Already the identification of the patriarchs and the heads of the
a gross historical anachronism.
Ammi.”
45 “R Assi” only in the manuscripts; the printed editions have “R.
14a) as referring to specifi-
46 Quoting the verse Isa. 3:3, which is interpreted (in b Hagigah
cally qualified rabbis.
47 b Hagigah 13a.
226 Chapter 7

his-
who succeeded him as head, and R. Assi as his students. Yet this touch of
torical reality becomes highly suspicious when we notice that it is clearly mod-
eled along the lines of the Yohanan (b. Zakkai) and Eleazar (b. Arakh) story in
the Tosefta cycle.** Contrary to the Yohanan b. Zakkai-Eleazar b. Arakh model,
however, now it is not the student who asks his teacher for permission to ex-
pound the Merkavah in front of him but the teacher who politely asks the student
whether he will graciously accept instruction in the Merkavah. And the student
modestly rejects the offer — only to learn that, when he feels old enough for the
subject, his teacher has died. When his fellow student Assi (who apparently
has learned the Merkavah from Yohanan) suggests filling in for their beloved
teacher, Eleazar rejects the offer again, because he would have preferred to have
been taught by their teacher and not a fellow student.
No doubt, this new incarnation of the Yohanan b. Zakkai-Eleazar b. Arakh
story takes for granted that Merkavah exegesis can be taught and is being taught.
Unlike the former, however, it presupposes that the student has reached a cer-
tain age so as to be mature enough for the secrets and perils of the Merkavah.*?
Remarkably, it is not the teacher who sets the age for the study of the Merkavah
but the student. The irony cannot be overlooked here, since the poor student,
in all his modesty, in the end misses the opportune moment and comes away
empty-handed. Hence, the message is that if you want to study the Merkavah,
do not miss out on the right moment because, if you exaggerate your modesty,
you may lose everything.
The second story addresses the same problem:
Rav Joseph had studied the work of the Merkavah; the elders of Pumbeditha had stud-
ied the work of creation. They [the elders] said to him [Rav Joseph]: “Let the master
teach us the work of the Merkavah. He said to them: Teach me (first) the work of crea-
tion.”
After they had taught him (the work of creation), they said to him: “(Now) let the
master (finally) teach us the work of the Merkavah.” He said to them: “I have learned
concerning it? [the work of the Merkavah]: Honey and milk under your tongue
(Cant. 4:11) — matters that are sweeter than honey and milk shall (remain) under your
tongue.” ...

They said to him: “We have learned concerning it*! [the work of the Merkavah] up to:
He said to me: Son of man (Ezek. 2:1).” He said to them: “This is indeed the work of
the Merkavah!”

‘8 Halperin (The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 162) struggles with the alternative of
whether it is a piece of fiction (composed to stress that the work of the Merkavah is esoteric) or
based on actual events. He cannot make up his mind (although he notices the similarity with the
Yohanan b. Zakkai-Eleazar b. Arakh story) but does not want to rule out the latter.
*° It does not tell us what this age is, but presumably it presupposes the traditional age of
forty years.
50 Lit. “them.”
51 Same.
 The Rabbis II 22)

Now the setting moves to Babylonia: the school of Pumbeditha and Rav Joseph,
a Babylonian Amora of the third generation (d. 333 CE). Rav Joseph is portrayed
as an expert in the exegetic discipline of the Merkavah, whereas his colleagues at
Pumbeditha are experts in the exegetic discipline dealing with creation. Again,
both subjects are taken for granted as academic disciplines (apparently both R.
Joseph and the “elders” have reached the appropriate age), and again the irony
of the story is obvious: the elders’ desire to be taught properly the work of the
Merkavah turns out to be futile because Rav Joseph, although the elders fulfilled
the condition mutually agreed upon, ultimately retracts his promise to teach
them and resorts to the alleged secrecy of the subject. But, unlike R. Eleazar in
the first story, they do not miss their moment. When Rav Joseph backs down,
they proudly declare: we nevertheless did it — we did not wait until you were
ready but did it on our own, and we did the full first chapter of Ezekiel. Hence,
all that remains to Rav Joseph is to confirm that Ezek. 1 is indeed what is called
the work of the Merkavah. The elders do not find it necessary to present their
exposition to Rav Joseph and to get his approval, and Rav Joseph does not ask
for it or even indicate that they need it. Both Rav Joseph and the elders take for
granted that the elders can expound the Merkavah and that they do not really
need his instruction.
From here the Bavli’s discourse moves on to the question of what precisely
the Ezekiel text consists of, that is, the subject of the Merkavah. The elders of
Pumbeditha had defined it as the complete first chapter of Ezekiel, but the Bavli’s
editor objects and asks:
How far does the work of the Merkavah extend?
Rabbi says: “Up to the last ‘I saw’ (wa’ere) (Ezek. 12)
R. Yitzhaq says: “Up to hashmal (ibid.).”*

In order to answer his question about the definition of the exegetical subject
of the Merkavah, the Bavli editor provides two conflicting answers, one by
Rabbi (apparently R. Yehudah ha-Nasi, editor of the Mishnah) and one by R.
Yitzhaq (presumably R. Yitzhaq Nappaha, another student of R. Yohanan at
Tiberias). Rabbi is more narrow in his definition in that he restricts the study
saw”)
of the Merkavah to the passage extending from Ezek. 1:4 (the first “I
word of Ezek. 1:27), whereas R.
to Ezek. 1:26 (the second “I saw” is the first
the second “I saw”: “I saw
Yitzhaq includes the phrase immediately following
the
the like of hashmal (ke-‘en hashmal).” That is, both disagree about whether
sense that the biblical
second “I saw” marks the end of the Merkavah text in the
up to “T saw,” in-
Merkavah includes everything before “I saw” or everything
vainglorious
cluding its immediate object “the like of hashmal.” This is not some
does
battle about nothing. Although both agree that the subject of the Merkavah

52 b Hagigah 13a.
228 Chapter 7

not include the description of the figure on the throne, that is, of God’s Glory
(Ezek. 1:27 and 28),°? R. Yitzhaq’s slightly broader definition ventures into just
this dangerous territory: whatever hashmal means, it is closely connected with
the appearance of the figure sitting on the throne, a subject that Rabbi’s more
restrictive approach seeks to avoid.”
The Bavli editor is not satisfied with R. Yitzhaq’s broader definition of the
Merkavah, including hashmal, and asks, “Is it really so that we expound hash-
mal”? He answers this question with two almost identical stories, one in Aramaic
and one in Hebrew (a Baraitha).°° The Aramaic version simply states, “Behold,
a certain child expounded hashmal (derash be-hashmal), and fire came forth*®
and devoured him,”®” from which the Bavli editor concludes: “A child is differ-
ent because it has not (yet) reached his time.” This conclusion follows the line
of reasoning of the preceding stories: for the Bavli, study of the Merkavah is
definitely permissible but requires a certain age. The poor child was burned be-
cause it did not fulfill this requirement. Finally, the child’s experience reminds
the Bavli editor of another story,°* according to which attempts were made to
conceal? the book of Ezekiel, obviously because of its danger.® Yet a certain
Hananyah b. Hisqiyah, an early Tanna of the first generation, saved the book
from falling into oblivion through his exegesis (which presumably solved the
alleged contradictions with the rest of the Torah).°! Hence, again the message is
that the book of Ezekiel — in particular its first chapter about the Merkavah — is
certainly not for everybody. But a rabbinic scholar of the right (mature) age may
well deal with it, including the dangerous hashmal of Ezek. 1:27.

3 As Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 157, has correctly pointed out.
4 It is certainly no coincidence that Rabbi, of all rabbis, is presented as the author of the
more restrictive approach. And it is also no accident that the Bavli’s editor tries to harmonize
the two conflicting statements, supporting the broader definition: “Up to ‘I saw’ we teach; from
there on we transmit the rudiments (rashei peraqim). Some say: Up to ‘I saw’ we transmit the
rudiments; from there on, if he is a scholar understanding on his own, yes, and if not, no.”
> b Hagigah 13a.
°° In most manuscripts: “from hashmal’; see the details in Halperin, The Merkabah in Rab-
binic Literature, p. 155.
>? According to the version of the Hebrew Baraitha, the child read the book of Ezekiel, un-
derstood hashmal, and was burned.
‘8 Again in two versions, this time both in Hebrew.
°° The technical term for this procedure is /ignoz: to put in a Genizah, a storehouse of books
that were deemed unfit for further use.
%° The first version goes yet a step further and argues: “because its words contradicted the
words of the Torah.”
°! According to the second version, this goal was achieved by a certain R. Yehoshua b.
Gamala (only in the manuscripts: the printed editions have the same Hananyah b. Hisqiyah; see
Halperin, The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 156 with n. 29), the high priest Yehoshua b.
Gamla of the last years of the Second Temple, turned into a rabbi. His argument is: “If this one
[the poor child] is a scholar, all are scholars,” meaning, that a child (who is not a scholar) was
burned does not mean that the book of Ezekiel is off limits for (real) scholars.
 The Rabbis II 229

Immediately after its impressive caveat, the Bavli, apparently unmoved by its
graphic description of the attendant dangers, sets about practicing this maxim.
It begins a long sequence of exegeses, starting with Ezekiel’s hashmal and then
venturing into other verses of Ezekiel and even into Daniel and Isaiah. So once
again, the Bavli editor could not make clearer his point that he is concerned
with exegeses, not with experience of any sort. Remarkably, he first asks what
hashmal means — precisely the insight that put such a tragic end to the life of the
poor child (he had better read the Bavli). The Bavli’s sober answer states: hash-
mal is the fire that the four creatures utter, and its following exegeses are meant
to demonstrate precisely this — that hashmal is connected with the creatures and
not, God forbid, with God. With this, the Bavli plainly contradicts the biblical
text because it completely ignores Ezek. 1:27 f. (but follows its own principle
that the Merkavah exegesis covers Ezek. 1:4—26, moving the dangerous hashmal
in 1:27 to this section — a clever move, indeed). All the Bavli’s Ezekiel exegeses
in this sugiah stick to its self-imposed limitation of the Merkavah chapter: they
proceed from the hashmal in 1:27 to 1:14, 1:4, 1:15, 1:10, 10:14 (the contra-
diction between 1:10 and 10:14), and finally to 1:6 (the contradiction between
Ezek. 1:6 and Isa. 6:2).
Having resolved the contradiction between Ezek. 1:6 and Isa. 6:2, the Bavli
moves to another set of contradictions, this time between the book of Daniel
and some other biblical verses. So, although the discussion of contradictions be-
tween biblical verses seems to be the formal catalyst for turning now to Daniel,
there can be no doubt that the Bavli editor, who has assembled these exegeses,
regarded the book of Daniel (or more precisely its chapter 7) as yet another
problematic biblical text, the study of which should be restricted. He begins with
Dan. 7:10 and, having discussed the verse’s alleged contradiction with Job 25:3,
focuses on the “stream of fire” (nehar di-nur) of 7:10. The stream or streams
of fire are a well-known motif, particularly in the apocalyptic and Hekhalot lit-
erature, but they appear also in the rabbinic literature proper. They make their
debut in chapter 14 of the Book of the Watchers of 1 Enoch (“And from under-
neath the throne came forth streams of blazing fire”) and are there, as well as
in Daniel, closely connected to the divine throne (that is, part of the heavenly
makeup). Only in later texts are they placed in a different context, namely, that
of the punishment of the wicked (for example, 2 En. 10:2°° and Testament of
Isaac 5:21-25).° The Hekhalot literature, interestingly enough, mainly adopts
the earlier apocalyptic tradition, describing the rivers of fire as part of the heav-

62 b Hagigah 13b.
63 b Hagigah 13b—14a.
64 See also the Similitudes (1 En. 71:2, 6), which depend on this earlier tradition.
65 “River of fire in the singular” (as in Daniel).
66 Also singular.
230 Chapter 7

enly inventory.°’ However, in having the angels — who make an error in recit-
ing their hymns — punished in the river of fire,8 it seems to adopt elements of
the later strand.
Conspicuously, the Bavli follows this later tradition: asking first, where the
stream of fire comes from (answer: “from the sweat of the creatures”), it de-
votes much more effort to discussing where it goes — namely, on the head of the
wicked in Gehinnom. No doubt, the Bavli is more interested in the river of fire
as a tool of punishment (that is, in the fate of the wicked and the righteous as
part of the ethical makeup of humankind) than it is in satisfying our curiosity
as to the heavenly inventory. To be sure, the sugiah continues with a dictum by
Shemuel (a Babylonian Amora of the first generation), who informs us that the
ministering angels are indeed created from the stream of fire,”° but the Bavli edi-
tor counters this idea with another dictum by R. Shemuel b. Nahmani in the name
of R. Yohanan (b. Nappaha) — of all rabbis (see above) — who holds: No, this is
nonsense, we have no need of this fancy stuff. God creates with the words he ut-
ters, not with fire, and accordingly, the angels are created “from every utterance
that goes forth from the mouth of the Holy One, blessed be He.””!
The next two contradictions to be solved are between Dan. 7:9 (the description
of God as an old man) and Cant. 5:11 (the description of God as a young lover)
and between two sections of Dan. 7:9 itself (the beginning of the verse says that
“thrones [pl.] were set in place and an Ancient One took his seat,” whereas later
on the same verse states: “His throne [sing.] was flames of fire”). Of all rabbis,
it is R. Agiva who is quoted as solving the latter contradiction by arguing that
Dan. 7:9 is indeed referring to two different thrones, one for God (the throne of
fiery flames) and one for David (the throne for the Ancient One). This explana-
tion, of course, contradicts the plain meaning of the biblical text, according to
which the Ancient One is God, who takes his seat on one of the thrones in heaven
(the other thrones are for the heavenly court) and whose throne is later described
as consisting of fiery flames. That Aqiva imports David into the heavenly scen-
ery of Dan. 7 can have no other reason than to deemphasize its mythical or mys-
tical impact: David, the beloved poet-king of Israel and future Messiah, occupies
a throne in heaven, together with God! In other words, Israel is present there as
well, represented by David, and there is no need, indeed, to ascend to heaven and
to have a look at what is going on there. No wonder that another rabbi (Yose the
Galilean) immediately objects and accuses Aqiva of profaning the Shekhinah.

67 See Konkordanz zur Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, s. v. “nahar2.”

68 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 67; in ibid., § 58, the angels are punished by the fire
that goes out from the little finger of God.
® This explanation might again be an attempt to remove it from the divine throne, that is,
from immediate proximity to God.
7 b Hagigah 14a.
7 Tbid.
 The Rabbis II 234

Instead, R. Yose proposes that one throne is meant for the divine attribute of
justice and the other one for the attribute of loving kindness, and the Bavli edi-
tor maintains that Aqiva accepted this interpretation. Yet another rabbi (Eleazar
b. Azarya) still disagrees — apparently, because two separate thrones for two di-
vine attributes may hint at some kind of duality in the Godhead. In harsh words
he demands that Aqiva leave the Aggada and that he would do better turning his
attention to difficult halakhic problems, his real specialty: one throne, Eleazar b.
Azarya concludes, is God’s throne proper and the other one serves as his footrest
(proof-text Isa. 66:1). Again, the irony of this passage cannot be overlooked. R.
Aqiva, precisely the rabbi who is said to have entered the pardes of the exegesis
of Ezek. | (if not, in this context, of the heavenly realm) and to have been the
only one who left it unharmed — it is this Aqiva who is rebuked for his aggadic
exegesis and is told to stick to his last, that is, Halakhah.
The quotation of Isa. 66:1 triggers yet another set of biblical exegeses, this
time of Isa. 3:1—7. It is unclear why these Isaiah exegeses are added here to the
exegeses of Ezekiel and Daniel, since they have nothing to do with the heavenly
realm. The verses Isa. 3:1—5 are interpreted as curses against Israel, that is, as
referring to the subversion of the social order during king Sennacherib’s attack
on Judah and his siege of Jerusalem in 701 BCE. Presumably, these passages are
regarded as devastating and hence not suitable for public discourse, and it seems
to be this latter qualification that prompted the Bavli editor to combine them with
the expositions of Ezekiel and Daniel.’”” Hence, the composition of the sugiah
strongly emphasizes the fact that the Bavli’s main concern is about biblical ex-
egeses and not about experiences of whatever kind.
Having discussed Jerusalem’s destruction, the Bavli finally, and for no appar-
ent reason, turns to the cycle of stories attached to the Merkavah and the work
of creation.”? It begins with unit 1 (Yohanan b. Zakkai and Eleazar b. Arakh,
with the long addition about R. Yehoshua and R. Yose ha-Kohen),” followed
by units 2 (chain of transmission), 3 (the four rabbis who entered pardes, with
Aqiva’s Hekhalot dictum about the marble stones, but without the proof-texts for
Aher and Agqiva, yet with an addition about Ben Zoma), 6 (Ben Zoma’s exposi-
tion of Genesis), 3 [a] (Aher in the pardes story, with an addition about Meta-
tron), 3 [b] (Aqiva in the pardes story, with another addition), and finally unit 7
(Genesis); units 4 (the royal garden) and 5 (the parable of the road) are missing
in the Bavli. Hence, like the Tosefta and unlike the Yerushalmi, the Bavli keeps
the first three (Merkavah) units together; however, like the Yerushalmi, it splits
the pardes story into distinct sections and adds additional material, particularly
about Aher.

72 Pace Halperin, Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 17, who suggests that the trigger is
the phrase navon lahash (lit. “understanding a whisper’) in Isa. 3:3.
® b Hagigah, fol. 14b—16a.
74 Discussed above, chapter 6, pp. 193 f.
a2 Chapter 7

of pure
The first addition to the pardes story, Aqiva’s dictum about the stones
sugiah’s
marble, was discussed above.” Looking at it from the perspective of the
and incom-
overall structure, it becomes even more obvious how out of context
t litera-
prehensible it is without full knowledge of those parallels in the Hekhalo
ture. As has been observe d above, by adding Aqiva’s dictum to the pardes story,
the Bavli editor gives it a complet ely new meaning . Having said this, however , I
should like to qualify this statemen t and add that, within the sugiah’s full context,
the impact of the new “Merkavah mystical” interpretation of the pardes story
carries much less weight. The Bavli does not dwell on it; rather, it seems as if
the editor simply wanted to throw in this tradition so as to give the pardes story
a particular twist and to make sure that it would be understood in this way. But
this new interpretation remains completely isolated; it has no immediate continu-
ation. On the contrary, the next addition about Ben Zoma is even counterproduc-
tive to such a reading. The Bavli editor, who knows nothing of any Merkavah
experience on the part of Ben Zoma (although he does know the material about
Ben Zoma’s exposition of Genesis), comes up with the following addition:
They asked Ben Zoma: “Is it permitted to castrate a dog?” He answered: “Any animal
that has its testicles bruised or crushed or torn or cut, you shall not offer to the Lord;]
such you shall not do within your land (Lev. 22:24) — (this means), to no (animal) that
is in your land shall you do this.”
Ben Zoma was (further) asked: “May a high priest marry a virgin that has become
pregnant? Do we (in such a case) take into consideration Shemuel’s statement, for
Shemuel said: I can have repeated sexual intercourse without (causing) bleeding; or is
perhaps the case of Shemuel rare?” He answered: “The case of Shemuel is indeed rare;
therefore, we must consider (the possibility) that she may have conceived in a bath.”
But behold, hasn’t Shemuel said: An emission of semen that does not shoot forth like
an arrow cannot impregnate? — In the first instance [in the bath], it had also shot forth
like an arrow.’°
The first halakhic question addressed to Ben Zoma is quite straightforward: Is
it permitted to castrate dogs, although castration is explicitly forbidden only in
the case of animals that are offered as sacrifices (and dogs are not offered)? Ben
Zoma concludes from a literal reading of Lev. 22:24 that castration of all ani-
mals that live in the land of Israel, regardless of whether or not they are offered
as sacrifices, is forbidden.
The second question deals with the bizarre problem of whether a pregnant
woman who is about to be married to a high priest (who, according to the Torah,
may marry only a virgin)’” may claim that she is still a virgin, despite her preg-

5 Chapter 6, pp. 202f.

76 b Hagigah 14b-15a.
Mev, 21:13.
 The Rabbis I 233

nancy. Ben Zoma is asked whether Shemuel’s”® statement applies here, accord-
ing to which it is possible to have sexual intercourse without physically deflow-
ering the virgin, or whether such a case is exceptional and therefore cannot be
taken into account halakhically. He rules that Shemuel’s case is indeed excep-
tional and cannot be taken into account, but that the possibility still does exist of
the pregnant virgin having conceived in the bathtub. Finally, an objection (also
put into the mouth of Shemuel), namely, that only an emission of semen that has
shot forth like an arrow can make a women pregnant (and hence that the bathtub
explanation does not apply to the pregnant virgin), is fended off: the virgin was
sitting in a bathtub into which a man had shot his semen. Conclusion: a virgin
may have become pregnant without sexual intercourse, and may be married by
a high priest.
As such, these two halakhic questions are perfectly reasonable, although
slightly odd (the problem of the castrated dog may have had some practical im-
plications, but the problem of the pregnant virgin and the high priest was cer-
tainly outdated),’”? and Ben Zoma’s answers are not only reasonable but seem to
have been accepted by the Bavli. What makes them peculiar and almost funny
is the present context — namely, immediately following the story of the four rab-
bis in the pardes and the biblical proof text illustrating why Ben Zoma suffered
harm: “If you have found honey, eat only enough for you, lest you have eaten too
much of it and vomit it out” (Prov. 25:16). Although they do not help elucidating
what happened to him in the pardes, they nevertheless could be read as belong-
ing to this context: “They asked Ben Zoma,” that is, some people there (his fel-
lows? the angels?), in the pardes, asked Ben Zoma. If we take this context seri-
ously, the down-to-earth halakhic questions and Ben Zoma’s answers can only
be understood as an antidote to a Merkavah mystical reading of the pardes story,
almost a parody of Aqiva’s mysterious warning: “When you arrive at the stones
of pure marble, do not say ‘water, water.’”” Hence, I want to posit that the Bavli
editor not only was not particularly interested in what happened to Ben Zoma in
the pardes; he even wished to portray him as someone who was knowledgeable
in difficult halakhic matters and who was undeserving of any harm.
A similar conclusion can be drawn from the Bavli’s version of unit 6 (Ben Zo-
ma’s Genesis exegesis).*° Of all the parallel versions of this story in the Tosefta,
the Yerushalmi, and the Bavli,*! it is only the Bavli that omits the pointed con-
,
clusion that, as a consequence of his exegesis, poor Ben Zoma died. Moreover
the academy of
78 Mar Shemuel, the Babylonian Amora of the first generation and head of
Nehardea.
scholars even consid-
79 That is, irrelevant after the destruction of the Second Temple. Some
unlikely) possibilit y that the pregnant virgin is meant to be a parody
ered the (in my view highly
dem Christentum in der
of the Virgin Mary; see Johann Maier, Jiidische Auseinandersetzung mit
230, n. 263.
Antike (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1982), p.
89 b Hagigah 15a.
81 And, in addition, Bereshit Rabbah 2:4.
234 Chapter 7

after having indicated that the verse Gen. 1:2 (the Spirit of God hovering over
the waters) does not fit as a proof-text for the separation of the waters — because
the separation occurred on the second day, whereas Gen. 1:2 refers to the first
day — the Bavli ostentatiously continues the discussion of the distance between
the upper and lower waters, unmoved by R. Yehoshua’s verdict and Ben Zoma’s
fate. Whereas Ben Zoma had defined the distance as “not even a handbreadth”
(in the Tosefta and the Yerushalmi versions) or “only three fingers’ breadth” (in
the Bavli version), the Bavli adds a number of opinions that reduce the space
between the waters to the absolute minimum: as a hair’s breadth, as between
the boards of a gangway, as between two cloaks spread one over the other, or as
between two cups placed one in the other. So in fact, the Bavli sees nothing im-
proper in Ben Zoma’s exposition of the work of creation (and no reason for him
to be punished) but feels stimulated to continue and improve it.
Ben Zoma is followed in the pardes story by Aher, that is, the arch-heretic
Elisha b. Avuyah. Accordingly, after quoting the proof-text for Elisha~Aher
(Eccl. 5:5: “Let not your mouth lead your flesh into sin”), the Bavli continues
by adding some new material about Aher (unit 3 [a]):*
Why this?83 He [Aher] saw that permission had been given to Metatron to sit** and
write down the merits of Israel. He [Aher] said: “It is taught as a tradition that above (/e-
ma ‘lah) there is no standing®> and no sitting, no jealousy® and no rivalry, no back and
no weariness. Perhaps, God forbid, there are two powers (reshuyyot) [in heaven]!?”
[Thereupon] they led Metatron forth and flogged him with sixty fiery lashes. They said
to him: “Why, when you saw him [Aher], did you not rise before him?” Permission
was [then] given to him [Metatron] to erase the merits of Aher.
A heavenly voice went forth and said: “Return, backsliding children (Jer. 3:14, 22) —
except for Aher.” [Thereupon] he [Aher] said: “Since I have been driven forth from
that world [the future world], I will go forth and enjoy this world.” So Aher fell into
bad ways (tarbut ra‘ah).®’

This story sets out to explain why Aher became a heretic. In explicitly attri-
buting to him a vision of Metatron, the highest angel in heaven, it makes clear
that it wants to read the pardes story as a heavenly journey in which the rabbis,
including Aher, attained their goal. Similar to the passage with Aqiva’s warn-
ing regarding the marble stones in heaven, but much more explicit, it transfers
the pardes story from an exercise in exegesis to the experience of a heavenly
ascent. Because of the unexpected sight of a sitting angel — angels are supposed

8? The association that triggered off the addition of this tradition may have been the continu-
ation of the verse Eccl. 5:5: “and say not before the angel that it was an error.”
83 Most manuscripts have the better version, “What did he see?” See Halperin, The
Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, p. 167 with n. 84.
** Most manuscripts add “one hour a day”; see Halperin, ibid., with n. 85.
*° “No standing” with most manuscripts; Halperin, ibid., p. 168 with n. 87.
86 “No jealousy” (qin ’ah) with most manuscripts; Halperin, ibid., with n. 88.
87 b Hagigah 15a.
 The Rabbis II 235

to have no knee joints and therefore cannot sit; moreover, there is no competi-
tion among the angels in heaven; the angels do not turn their backs to each other
(because they have faces in all directions and do not need to turn around); and
they certainly do not suffer from physical weariness — Aher concludes that there
must be two divine powers in heaven, not just the one and sole God. Although it
results from a misunderstanding, this sin causes Aher’s eternal and irrevocable
damnation, pronounced by a voice from heaven (bat gol).
So far so good. We now understand why Aher is punished forever — he mis-
took Metatron for God, and this was regarded as a cardinal sin. But what goes
against the grain of the story in its present context is the fact that not only is
Aher punished but, even more conspicuously, so is Metatron. Immediately after
Aher’s ill-advised conclusion about two powers in heaven, it is Metatron who
is first punished (because he did not rise before Aher and thereby neglected to
make clear that he isn’t God, sitting on his throne, but just an angel, standing
around like any other angel), and only thereafter does Aher receive the pun-
ishment he deserves. Metatron’s humiliation comes quite unexpectedly in the
present context (the pardes story with Aher’s ascent to heaven), and I would
like to suggest once more that it can only be understood as a counterpoint to the
gist of the ascent tradition, arguing: it may well be that Aher, together with his
fellow rabbis, went up to heaven and saw things that are normally hidden from
human view. But make no mistake — not only was Aher punished for his rash and
incorrect conclusion, and not only did he not see God but an angel (albeit the
highest angel in heaven), but this highest angel, the “Lesser YHWH” according
to 3 Enoch, was also punished because he failed to prevent Aher from mistak-
ing him for God. So in fact, despite its coloring of the pardes story in terms of
an ascent account, the Bavli betrays its own transformation of the pardes story
by simultaneously toning it down, making its impact less powerful, and telling
its reader: what is such an ascent actually worth if one does not in fact see God,
if one makes a (quite understandable) mistake, is nevertheless punished forever,
and even causes the highest angel in heaven to be punished as well.
Not surprisingly, just as in Aqiva’s warning of the marble stones, our story too
has a parallel in the Hekhalot literature, where it is transmitted in two different
macroforms®® and in two different versions: one within the macroform called
Merkavah Rabbah®? and the other in the macroform called 3 Enoch.”” Whereas
in the former it is part of the pardes story and most likely influenced by our Bavli
Hagigah tradition,! in the latter it is independent of the pardes story but follows
the tradition of Enoch’s elevation from a human being to the highest angel in

88 On this term, see below, pp. 243 ff.

89 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 672.
% Tbid., § 20. :
91 Only in the (late) Ms. New York 8128; see Peter Schafer, ed., Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-
Literatur, vol. 4: §§ 598-985 (Tiibingen: J.C.B.Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1991), pp. 72-75.
236 Chapter 7

heaven — his transformation into Metatron, the “Lesser YHWH,”” almost on

a par with God.” He sits on a throne, similar to God’s, at the entrance of the
seventh heaven, judging all the angels in heaven and assigning to them their re-
spective angelic rank.** And then the story suddenly incorporates the Elisha b.
Avuyah/ Aher tradition and continues:
But when Aher came to behold the vision of the Merkavah (bitzfiyyat ha-merkavah)
and set eyes upon me [Metatron], he was afraid and trembled before me. His soul was
alarmed to the point of leaving him because of his fear, dread, and terror of me, when
he saw me seated upon a throne like a king, with ministering angels standing beside
me as servants and all the princes of kingdoms crowned with crowns surrounding me.
At that hour he opened his mouth and said: “There are indeed two powers (reshuyyot)
in heaven!”
Immediately a heavenly voice came out from the presence of the Shekhinah and said:
“Return, backsliding children (Jer. 3:14, 22) — except for Aher.”
Then Anafiel YWY,” the honored, glorified, beloved, wonderful, terrible, and dreadful
Prince, came at the command of the Holy One, blessed be He, struck me [Metatron]
with sixty fiery lashes and made me stand on my feet.*°

Here, Aher’s misperception of Metatron’s role in heaven forms the climax of

Metatron’s elevation to the “Lesser YHWH” — or rather, to be more precise, the
anticlimax, for it causes, as in the Bavli, Metatron’s punishment. However, the
story flows more smoothly in 3 Enoch than in the Bavli, since in the 3 Enoch
version it is, consequentially, first Aher who gets his punishment (immediately
after he “recognizes” two powers in heaven) and then Metatron. We even learn
who executes it: Anafiel, another high angel, and at the command of God him-
self. Howsoever the relationship between the two versions can be defined,” it is
highly conspicuous that ultimately, in emphasizing Metatron’s punishment, both
tone down the impact of the experience of the Merkavah (versus the Merkavah
as an exegetic discipline).?*
The Aher-Metatron encounter (explaining why Aher became a heretic) is fol-
lowed by a series of stories about Aher’s fate after his apostasy.”? They cluster

92 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 15.

°3 See below, chapter 8, p. 320.
°4 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 20.
°5 A variant of the tetragrammaton YHWH.
°6 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 20; see also below, chapter 8, p. 322. I follow (with
bisa ee translation by Philip Alexander, “3 (Hebrew Apocalypse of) Enoch,” in OTP,
vol. 1, p. 268.
°7 See on this Philip Alexander, “3 Enoch and the Talmud,” JSJ 18 (1987), pp. 40-68; Chris-
topher R.A. Morray-Jones, “Hekhalot Literature and Talmudic Tradition: Alexander’s Three
Test Cases,” JSJ 22 (1991), pp. 1-39.
ti On the possible Babylonian origin of 3 Enoch, see Peter Schafer and Klaus Herrmann,
eds., Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 1: §§ 1-80 (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Sie-
beck], 1995), pp. L-LV. 4
» b Hagigah 15a-b.
 The Rabbis II 237

around Aher and his faithful student R. Meir, as well as around the rabbis’ reac-
tion to this extraordinary student-teacher relationship, even after the teacher’s
apostasy. Meir remains faithful to Aher beyond both their deaths and takes
care, against his fellow rabbis’ advice, that Aher is punished in Gehinnom and
ultimately forgiven. After Aher’s death, when his impoverished daughter ap-
proaches Rabbi (Yehudah ha-Nasi) for sustenance and Rabbi at first wants to
rebuff her, fire comes down from heaven and envelops his bench — apparently
threatening to burn him (an ironical inversion of the fire that surrounds R. Yo-
hanan and R. Eleazar b. Arakh during the latter’s successful exposition of the
Merkavah). A few passages are added, explaining why R. Meir could study with
Aher even after his apostasy, and finally God himself is conjured (in a revelation
of Elijah): how did he react to Meir’s loyalty to his teacher Aher:
Rabbah bar Shela!®° (once) met Elijah.
He [Rabbah bar Shela] said to him [Elijah]: “What is the Holy One, blessed be He,
doing?” (Elijah answered:) “He [God] utters traditions in the name of all the rabbis, but
in the name of R. Meir he does not utter (any).”
(Rabbah bar Shela) asked him: “Why?”
(Elijah:) “Because he learned traditions from the mouth of Aher.”!!

When the rabbi insists that the essence of Aher’s teaching was not compromised
because of his sin (“R. Meir found a pomegranate; he ate [the fruit] within it,
and the peel he threw away”), even God gives in. Elijah informs him that now, at
this very moment — after the rabbi has intervened on Meir’s behalf — God utters
a tradition in the name of R. Meir! In other words, the rabbis plead with God to
forgive Aher and Meir, and God conforms to their plea. Hence the overall mes-
sage of the story cycle (following Aher’s heavenly ascent) is that Aher did sin
and did become a heretic, but that ultimately it was less his than the angel Me-
tatron’s fault. An ascent to heaven is ill-advised — not so much because of the
human adept’s inadequacies (to be sure, they are bad enough and certainly play a
role) but because of the deficiency of the heavenly host, in particular of the angel
whom God has elevated to the rank of a lesser God. Heaven is a dangerous and
unsafe territory, and human beings had better avoid it and stay with their fellow
rabbis on earth. Their task is to expound the Torah in the earthly academies and
not to ascend to heaven.
After a couple of more Aher-Meir stories, the Bavli’s sugiah finally turns
to Aqiva’s experience. In quoting the pardes story as “R. Aqiva went up
(‘alah) safely and went down (yarad) safely” (followed by the quotation from
Cant. 1:4), it makes immediately clear (as was the case with Aher) that it seeks
to understand the event as a heavenly ascent. This is further emphasized by the
continuation: “And R. Agiva, too, the ministering angels wanted to push away,

100 A Babylonian Amora of the late third to early fourth century.

101 _b Hagigah 15b.
238 Chapter 7

(but) the Holy One, blessed be He, said to them: Leave this old man (alone), for
he is worthy to avail himself of my glory (/e-hishtammesh bikhvodi).”'©? Not
surprisingly, this passage again has an almost verbatim parallel in the Hekhalot
literature, this time in Hekhalot Zutarti!™ as well as in Merkavah Rabbah.'!™ In
both macroforms it follows, as in the Bavli, Aqiva’s successful ascent and de-
scent according to the pardes story, culminating in the quotation of Cant. 1:4.
Here is the Hekhalot Zutarti version:
R. Aqiva said: At that hour when I ascended to the height [of heaven], I put one sign
more on the entrances of the ragia‘ than (on) the entrance to my house.'® And when
I arrived at the curtain (pargod), the angels of destruction came forth to destroy me,
(but) the Holy One, blessed be He, said to them: Leave this old man (alone), for he is
worthy to behold my glory (/e-histakkel bikhvodi).”'°°
According to this version, Aqiva himself explains (presumably to his fellow
rabbis after his safe return from the Merkavah) how he managed to escape the
pardes unharmed: he was clever enough, during his ascent, to put markers at the
entrances of the (seven) palaces or heavens in order to find his way back. But
when he finally arrived at the curtain that veils the divine throne, the angels in
heaven were not pleased to see him and tried to kill him. He only managed to
escape the fury of the angels because God told them not to harm him. Only this
second part about the angels and God’s intervention on Aqiva’s behalf is men-
tioned in the Bavli — with the remarkable difference that the Hekhalot Zutarti/
Merkavah Rabbah version!®’ uses the phrase typical of the ascent accounts in
the Hekhalot literature, “to behold my glory,” whereas the Bavli version uses
the phrase “‘to avail himself of my glory,” which is characteristic of the Hekhalot
literature’s magical-theurgical strand. To be sure, the relationship between both
versions needs further clarification, but I find it hard to imagine that the shorter
Bavli version served as the basis for the more elaborate Hekhalot version; rather,
it seems reasonable to assume that some kind of Hekhalot version is being
quoted in an abbreviated form in the Bavili.
Whatever the relationship may be, much more telling is the way in which the
Bavli and the Hekhalot literature continue after God’s intervention. Whereas
Hekhalot Zutarti proceeds with more passages related to Aqiva’s Merkavah ex-

102» Thid:
'03' Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 346. A remarkable parallel is preserved in the Geni-
zah fragment T.-S. K 21.95.B, the only Genizah fragment containing passages from Hekhalot
Zutarti; see Peter Schafer, Geniza-Fragmente zur Hekhalot-Literatur (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr
[Paul Siebeck], 1984), p. 88 (fol. 2a, 1. 11-15).
'* Tbid., § 673, immediately following the passage about Aher and Metatron, § 672.
105 Ms. New York (§ 673): “more signs on the entrances of the ragia‘ than on the entrances
to my house.”
106 As part of Hekhalot Zutarti (§ 346) only in Ms. Munich 22; in Mss. Oxford 1531 and
New York 8128 the paragraph follows the pardes story in Merkavah Rabbah.
'7 Also in the Genizah fragment: Geniza-Fragmente zur Hekhalot-Literatur, p. 88, 1. 14.
 The Rabbis II 239

perience (Merkavah Rabbah breaks off the Aqiva passages in the middle of the
following paragraph but nevertheless continues with Hekhalot material), the
Bavli’s narrative takes a very different turn. In asking, “What did he expound
(mai derash),”'®® it provides a number of Bible verses, all of which prove that
Aqiva, unlike Aher, knew how to distinguish between God and his angels:
— He came (atah) from the myriads of holy ones (Deut. 33:2): He is a sign (of)
among his myriad — meaning that God is distinguished among his holy angels;
— Preeminent (dagu/) among the myriad (Cant. 5:10): He is an outstanding
example (dugmah) among his myriad — meaning that he distinguishes himself
from his angels;
— The Lord of hosts is his name (Isa. 48:2): He is the Lord among his
host — meaning that he is recognizable as the Lord of his angels;
— [There was a great and strong wind ...,] but the Lord was not in the wind;
after the wind — an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the
earthquake — fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire — a soft sound
of stillness,!°° and behold, the Lord passed by (1 Kings 19:11 f.)!!° — meaning
that God could be distinguished from all these natural phenomena and that Agiva
knew precisely where he was and where not.

Hence, what is important for the Bavli is how Aqiva reached his conclusion
about who and where God was, which prevented him from falling into the same
trap as Aher, that is, mistaking an angel for God. And, most conspicuously, his
was not a visionary experience (such as poor Aher’s: angels do not sit, so some-
one who sits in heaven must be God) but the result of an exegetical procedure.
In other words, the Bavli is not interested in Aqiva’s experience but in the proper
exegesis of biblical verses. This again is an anticlimax to any attempt at a mysti-
cal ascent to heaven. When Aqiva has finally reached the goal of his desire, after
God has allowed him to enter the innermost chamber of his divine presence, the
Bavli editor’s only concern is the biblical verses and the correct exegesis al-
lowing Aqiva to escape Aher’s fate. Or, to put it differently, because Aqiva was
such an excellent interpreter of the Bible, God allowed him into his presence:
the rabbi, who does his job properly, is the true Merkavah “mystic” (vored la-
merkavah). Merkavah exegesis turned into an ascent to the Merkavah and again
turned into exegesis — this is the message of the Bavli.
That the Bavli’s main concern is with exegetical distinctions rather than with
visionary experiences becomes clear also from the next segment of the sugiah.
Having discussed the difference between God and his angels (correctly per-

108 b Hagigah 16a.

109 Lit. “the sound of delicate/soft stillness,” usually translated as “‘a soft murmuring sound”
or “a still, small voice” (JPS), or “a sound of sheer silence” (NRSV).
110 “And behold, the Lord passed by” appears in the Hebrew Bible at the beginning of this
list of natural phenomena (v. 11), not at the end (v. 12).
240 Chapter 7

ceived in, or rather concluded from, biblical verses by Aqiva), the sugiah moves
on to explain the difference between angels and demons and between angels and
human beings. Obviously, this clarification has nothing to do with the experience
of an ascent to heaven.
Then, finally, the Bavli’s Merkavah sugiah comes to an end: it concludes with
unit 7 about the Mishnah lemma, “Anyone who gazes at four things” and “Any-
one who has no concern for the honor of his creator,” referring to matters of crea-
tion. Having dealt extensively with the topic of creation in its sugiah about the
work of creation, the Bavli is here rather brief — and again conspicuously down
to earth. It first states, rather dryly, that this restriction makes sense with regard
to what is above and below as well as to what is after (that is, in the world to
come after the end of days), “but as regards what was before — what happened,
happened (mah de-hawah hawah)!”'"' In using the famous phrase mai de-hawah
hawah'"2 the Bavli editor expresses his disregard for historical events and devel-
opments: what happened, happened, and we are not really interested in the his-
tory of something, not even in the prehistory of the time before creation. Yet he
feels compelled to add — in the names of R. Yohanan and R. Eleazar (one won-
ders again whether he refers to Yohanan b. Nappaha and Eleazar b. Pedat or to
Yohanan b. Zakkai and Eleazar b. Arakh)!!* — the risky parable about the palace
of the king built on dunghills, which does deal with precreational matters.!'*
Similarly toned down is the remaining material about the glory of the creator.
As to the question, why is it that “anyone who has no concern for the honor of
his creator, it would be merciful to/fitting for him if he had not come into the
world,” the Bavli gives two answers. The first answer indicates someone who
looks at the rainbow — an explicit reference to Ezek. 1:28 (the vision of God).
But the impact of this reference becomes much less significant with another ex-
planation that states: “Anyone who looks at three things, his eyes become dim:
at the rainbow, at the Prince (nasi),'!> and at the priests.” Here, the rainbow with
its association with the vision of God is coupled with the Prince and the priests,
two considerably less dangerous and esoteric matters. Moreover, much more
emphasis is placed on the second answer: “This refers to someone who commits
a transgression in secret,” that is, someone who sins secretly and who lets the

‘Il 'b Hagigah 16a.

'2 On this phrase, see recently Isaiah Gafni, “Rabbinic Historiography and Representations
of the Past,” in Charlotte E. Fonrobert and Martin S. Jaffee, eds., The Cambridge Compan-
ion to the Talmud and Rabbinic Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007),
pp. 295-312. Gafni emphasizes (p. 299) that the phrase appears primarily “in the reflections of
later redactors ... [the] stammma’im (as Halivni would call them).”
3 See above, pp. 186 ff., 225f.
\l4" See above, p. 222.
''S Either a secular ruler or the rabbinic patriarch. The Bible verse quoted as proof text
(Num. 27:20) refers to Joshua son of Nun, Moses’s successor as the leader of the people, but
the patriarch cannot be ruled out.
 The Rabbis II 241

evil inclination (yetzer ha-ra ‘)prevail upon him. Hence, the Bavli editor moves
from the vision of the Merkavah to ethical questions, because this is what really
matters for him and what occupies him until the end of the sugiah.
To sum up, the broader view of how the Bavii editor structures both his sug-
yot on the work of creation and on the Merkavah yields a striking result that
significantly qualifies the conclusions drawn from our analysis in chapter 6 of
the Tosefta cycle’s stories as discrete units of their own. The sugiah about the
work of creation concludes with Nebuchadnezzar’s vain attempt to ascend to
the heavens, and in my view this forms a fitting bridge to the sugiah about the
Merkavah. Two abortive attempts to study the Merkavah underline the Bavli’s
conviction that the Merkavah is an exegetical discipline, but nevertheless a dan-
gerous one restricted to scholars of a certain age. In limiting the subject of the
Merkavah to Ezek. 1:4—26, the editor makes clear that he wants to exclude from
the exegetical exercise the description of the figure of God seated on his throne
(Ezek. 1:26f.). This applies also to the enigmatic word hashmal in 1:27, which
is part of God’s appearance (two unlucky “children” expounding hashmal were
burned by fire), but the Bavli, not particularly moved by the poor children’s fate,
continues with an exegesis of precisely the word hashmal. Exegeses of various
Ezekiel verses follow, all emphasizing the Bavli’s view of the Merkavah as an
exegetical discipline.
After long exegeses of Dan. 7 and Isa. 3:1—7 the sugiah finally approaches
the Tosefta’s story cycle (units 1-7, omitting units 4 and 5). True, the Bavli adds
new material to some stories — to units 1 (R. Yehoshua and R. Yose ha-Kohen)
and, in particular, 3 (Aqiva’s warning of the heavenly marble stones; Aher and
Metatron; Aqiva’s rescue from the angels’ attack) — that gives them a peculiar
“Merkavah mystical” tinge, as opposed to just referring to the exegesis of Ezek.
1. But in most cases the editor immediately counters the impact of this new
meaning by qualifying it and playing it down: Ben Zoma was more of an expert
on the burning question of whether a dog may be castrated or whether a high
priest may marry a pregnant virgin rather than on the Merkavah, and the prob-
lem of the distance between the upper and the lower waters, raised by him (with
disastrous consequences), is indeed a problem worthy of discussion. Aher’s
conclusion, on the occasion of his vision of Metatron, that there are two pow-
ers in heaven, which led to his apostasy, was not actually his fault. To be sure,
he deserved to be punished — but ultimately he was saved, thanks to his faithful
student R. Meir, and the one who really deserved punishment was Metatron, the
lesser God, himself. As to Aqiva, what spared him Aher’s mishap is the fact that
he knew his job as a rabbi well enough to conclude from the correct Bible verses
that, and how, God is distinguished from his angels.
In three cases — Aqiva’s warning of the marble stones, Aher and Metatron,
the angels of destruction that threatened Aqiva — the new material in the Bavli
has direct parallels in the Hekhalot literature. The Bavli editor clearly knew of
242 Chapter 7

such material from other sources, and it seems as if he tried (or felt compelled?)
to incorporate it, to flavor his exposition of the Merkavah with a sprinkling of
Merkavah “mysticism” in the technical sense of the word. Yet apparently he
made every effort to neutralize this — in his view — even more dangerous and
rather unwelcome stuff by adapting it to his rabbinic mindset, in other words,
by thoroughly rabbinizing it.''°

6 : : : :
z The only case in which the editor did not succeed with this approach — or more precisely,
id not even ae it — is Aqiva’s brief dictum about the danger of the marble stones: this
passage gives the impression that the editor has just thrown it in, without 1 ;
to further qualify it. Rg eS a
 Chapter 8

The Merkavah Mystics

This last chapter of my investigation is devoted to Merkavah mysticism proper,

that unique and enigmatic movement regarded by most scholars as the first fully
developed manifestation of Jewish mysticism. Revolving around God’s divine
chariot (merkavah) and focusing on the ascent of the mystic through the seven
heavens and heavenly palaces, as well as on magic adjurations, Merkavah mys-
ticism is considered to be the climax of a long process of mystical thought that
was initiated by Ezekiel. The literature in which this movement was preserved
is called Hekhalot literature, a term that alludes, not by coincidence, to the ar-
chitecture of the earthly Temple (where hekhal refers to the entrance hall to the
Holy of Holies).
The individual undertaking the ascent is assigned the technical term yored
(la-) merkavah, that is, one who “descends to the Merkavah.”! For the sake of
convenience I use the terms “mystic” and “Merkavah mystic,” as well as “adept”
and “initiate” — without making, at this point, any attempt to define mysticism.
As to the literature, I employ the various texts’ traditional terms but once more
tender my frequently expressed caveat, namely, that we are dealing here with
an extremely unstable literature that only in its later stages congealed into more
or less fixed “works” with rather fancy (and varying) titles assigned to them;
therefore, I avoid the term “work” and instead use the terms “macroforms” and
“microforms.”? With regard to the sequence of the major macroforms, I follow
the order Hekhalot Rabbati, Hekhalot Zutarti, Ma‘aseh Merkavah, Merkavah
Rabbah, and 3 Enoch. In my view, this order also constitutes the most likely
internal chronology of the Hekhalot texts.> In this survey, however, I confine

! As regards this (reversed) terminology — one would expect the mystic to “ascend” and not
“descend” to the Merkavah; see below, p. 247, n. 23.
2 For greater detail, see Peter Schafer, Hekhalot-Studien (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1988),
pp. 199 ff.; idem, The Hidden and Manifest God, p. 6 with n. 14. For an excellent survey of the
current research on Hekhalot literature and Merkavah mysticism in general, see the introduc-
tion in Ra‘anan S. Boustan (Abusch), From Martyr to Mystic: Rabbinic Martyrology and the
Making of Merkavah Mysticism (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), pp. 1 ff., and the updated
summary in idem, “The Study of Heikhalot Literature: Between Mystical Experience and
Textual Artifact,” CBR 6 (2007), pp. 130-160. Very useful for a broader readership is Michael
and Peter
D. Swartz, “Mystical Texts,” in Shmuel Safrai Z”L, Zeev Safrai, Joshua Schwartz,
Fortress,
J. Tomson, eds., The Literature of the Sages, part 2 (Assen: Royal Van Gorcum and
2006), pp. 393-420.
3 See Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 7f.
244 Chapter 8

myself to the macroforms Hekhalot Rabbati, Hekhalot Zutarti, Shi‘ur Qomah,*

and 3 Enoch.°

Hekhalot Rabbati

The macroform conventionally captured under the heading Hekhalot Rabbati

(“The Greater Palaces”) is far from being a carefully composed and thoroughly
edited literary work. True, later scribes and editors of the respective manuscripts
took great pains to organize the text into chapters and subunits, but these quite
artificial attempts barely disguise the fact that we are dealing with highly dis-
parate and often even fragmentary pieces (microforms) that have been joined
together more or less successfully. Any effort to unravel the mysteries of this
“work” must take its unique literary makeup into consideration, if one wants to
avoid the danger of rashly and unduly harmonizing what appear to be distinct
and sometimes even conflicting layers of tradition.
In the manuscripts published in the Synopse, the macroform Hekhalot Rab-
bati is sandwiched between the macroforms 3 Enoch and Hekhalot Zutarti. Its
precise extent is far from being a given, since the available manuscripts® vary
greatly with regard to the microforms constituting the overarching macroform
Hekhalot Rabbati.’ A relatively stable range of the microforms constituting the
macroform seems to be, in terms of the Synopse paragraphs, the units §§ 81—
276 or §§ 81-306, respectively.® The former unit concludes the ascent accounts
of §§ 198-267 with some hymns of praise; the latter regards the Sar ha-Torah
narrative ($§ 282-306) as part of Hekhalot Rabbati. The microforms Pereq R.

* Whether or not Shi‘ur Qomah should be treated as an independent macroform is open to

question, it is preserved, as a larger and coherent unit, in Merkavah Rabbah and, independently,
in Ms. Munich 40 (see below, p. 307). In presenting it separately I do not want to make a claim
with regard to its literary status.
> On Ma‘aseh Merkavah and Merkavah Rabbah, see the summaries in Schafer, The Hidden
and Manifest God, pp. 77 ff. and 97 ff.; on Ma‘aseh Merkavah, see Naomi J anowitz, The Poetics
of Ascent: Theories of Language in a Rabbinic Ascent Text (Albany: State University of New
York Press, 1989), and Michael D. Swartz, Mystical Prayer in Ancient Judaism: An Analysis of
Ma‘aseh Merkavah (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992).
®° T am referring here to all the preserved manuscripts, not just the manuscripts in the Syn-
opse zur Hekhalot-Literatur.
7 See Peter Schafer, “Handschriften zur Hekhalot-Literatur,” in idem, Hekhalot-Studien,
pp. 154-233 (originally in FJB 11 [1983], pp. 113-193); idem, Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-
Literatur, vol. 2: §§ 81-334, pp. XIV-XXXVI; James R. Davila, “Prolegomena to a Critical
Edition of Hekhalot Rabbati,” JJS 45 (1994), pp. 208-226; and the very useful summary in
Boustan (Abusch), From Martyr to Mystic, pp. 36-49.
8 See Schafer, “Zum Problem der redaktionellen Identitat von Hekhalot Rabbati,” in
idem,
Hekhalot-Studien, pp. 63-74, and the charts in Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, pp. XXIV—
XXV; Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, p. XXVI; and Boustan, From Martyr
to
Mystic, pp. 41 f.
 The Merkavah Mystics 245

Nehunya b. Haqanah (§§ 307-314), Metatron’s ascent (§§ 315-317), the Great
Seal/ Awful Crown (§§ 318-321), and hymns and prayers (§§ 322-334) are only
loosely connected with Hekhalot Rabbati.
I refrain from dating the macroform Hekhalot Rabbati, but I see no reason
to retract my earlier conclusion that much of the Hekhalot literature, Hekhalot
Rabbati included, is a late rabbinic or even postrabbinic phenomenon (sixth
century and later) — notwithstanding the possibility, of course, that some of the
material collected and edited in this literature may well be earlier (third to sixth
centuries).? Moreover, I continue to posit that the predilection of most scholars
for a Palestinian origin of the Hekhalot /iterature is unwarranted (and certainly
not supported by the mention of Caesarea and the valley of Kidron in Hekhalot
Rabbati)!° and that at least the formative shaping of Hekhalot Rabbati (and other
Hekhalot texts) in Babylonia must be seriously considered!! (with additional re-
dactional layers in Ashkenaz).!*

1. The Gedullah Hymns

Let us now look at the major microforms contained in Hekhalot Rabbati, with
particular emphasis on the overall editorial strategy of their inclusion in the mac-
roform and the message they are intended to convey (as independent microforms
and as part of the macroform Hekhalot Rabbati). The first microform is the so-
called Gedullah hymns (§§ 81-93), which praise the superiority of the Merkavah
mystic. They open the macroform Hekhalot Rabbati with the enigmatic question,
put into the mouth of R. Ishmael and repeated several times in subsequent sec-
tions: “Which are the hymns recited by one who wishes to behold the vision of
the Merkavah (/e-histakkel bitzfiyyat merkavah), to descend (/ered) in peace and
to ascend (/a- ‘alot) in peace?”’? This opening sentence confronts the reader with
a number of important and highly charged presuppositions that are not explained
but obviously taken for granted:
1. There is such a thing as “the vision of the Merkavah,” which, moreover,
appears to be an eminently desirable goal. The Hebrew employed here (tzefiyyat

9 Schafer, Hekhalot-Studien, p. 293; idem, The Hidden and Manifest God, p. 159; idem,
Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, pp. XX-XXV; Boustan, From Martyr to Mystic,
pp. 288, 292; idem, “The Emergence of Pseudonymous Attribution in Heikhalot Literature:
Empirical Evidence from the Jewish ‘Magical’ Corpora,” JSO 13 (2006), pp. 1-21.
10 See, e.g., Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 32.
1 See Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, p. XXIV.
12 On the Ashkenazi redaction of Hekhalot manuscripts, see Israel M. Ta-Shma, “The Li-
brary of the Ashkenazi Sages in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries,” OS 60 (1985), pp. 298—
Litera-
309: Klaus Herrmann, “Re-Written Mystical Texts: The Transmission of the Hekhalot
ture in the Middle Ages,” BJRL 75 (1993), pp. 97-116.
Oxford
'3. Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 81. I follow, unless otherwise stated, Ms.
use the English translation prepared by Aubrey Pomerance and Ra‘anan Boustan
1531 and
(Abusch).
246 Chapter 8

[ha-] merkavah) is unusual and seems unique to the Hekhalot literature: “to be-
hold the vision of the Merkavah” is introduced as a well-established practice re-
quiring no further explanation. A similar phrase occurs in the very first paragraph
of 3 Enoch, where R. Ishmael says: “When I ascended (‘aliti) to the height to
behold in my vision the Merkavah (/e-histakkel bitzfiyyati ba-merkavah),”'* and,
later, when the arch-heretic Elisha b. Avuyah (Aher) ascends to heaven and mis-
takes Metatron for God: “When Aher came to behold the vision of the Merkavah
(le-histakkel bitzfiyyat ha-merkavah) and set his eyes upon me [Metatron].”!° In
addition to “beholding” the vision of the Merkavah, one may also “gaze” (/e-
hatzitz)'® or “closely look” (Je-tzapot)'’ at it. Therefore, it comes as no surprise
that “the vision of the Merkavah” is presented as a subject that can be taught,
again according to R. Ishmael: “Thus do they teach (kakh hayu shonin) about the
vision of the Merkavah.”!* Any adept wishing to bind himself to the Prince of
the Torah, concludes the Sar ha-Torah narrative at the end of (the larger) macro-
form Hekhalot Rabbati, needs to follow certain ascetic practices and, if success-
ful, should be able to “go out to all the measures of the Torah he wishes, be it to
Scripture, be it to Mishnah, be it to Talmud, be it!® to the vision of the Merkavah
(tzefiyyat [ha-] merkavah).”*° No doubt, in all these texts, with a clear focus on
Hekhalot Rabbati, the vision of the Merkavah is a discipline that one practices
and that one can study.
2. In order to achieve the desired goal, the vision of the Merkavah, one is sup-
posed to recite certain hymns: all the manuscripts in the Synopse use the verb
amar (lit. “say’”) together with the noun shirot (“hymns”), indicating that these
hymns are not sung but rather recited. From this we may conclude that the hymns
are not just any kind of songs but, more precisely, are poetical-liturgical pieces.
We are not told, however, what these hymns contain, at least not immediately,
since the text continues with the praise of the Merkavah mystic (the Gedullah
hymns proper).*! Moreover, although the hymns seem to be a necessary tool for
the vision of the Merkavah, it remains unclear whether they are a vehicle for
achieving this goal (that is, whether the very recitation of the hymns induces the
vision) or whether they just accompany the visionary on his journey. Yet, since

'4 Tbid., § 1 (Ms. Vatican 228).

5 Tbid., § 20.
'© R. Nehunya b. Haganah (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 225).
'7 Using the same root for the verb as for the noun (tzipiti bitzfiyyat ha-merkavah) and
clearly a later phrase (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 403 and 579).
8 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 93.
' Ms. Vatican 228 adds “even”: “be it even to the vision of the Merkavah.”
°° Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 303: the manuscripts vary with regard to the definite
article before merkavah and the inclusion of “Talmud.”
*1 Unless one wants to argue that the Gedullah hymns are meant to be the hymns that the
adept recites, but I do not think this is likely.
 The Merkavah Mystics 247

they enable the mystic to undertake his journey “in peace” (that is, safely), they
are clearly essential for the successful accomplishment of his adventure.
3. Contemplation of the Merkavah vision entails some mysterious “descent”
and “ascent,” the precise meaning of which the author/editor does not bother
to explain, or rather again takes for granted. In other words, the usage of yarad
and ‘alah here is clearly that of a coined phrase that required no further expla-
nation. It immediately evokes the pardes story in the Tosefta (Hagigah 2:1, Ms.
Vienna), according to which only R. Aqiva “ascended (‘alah) safely and de-
scended (yarad) safely.” I have argued above”? that originally the verbs “enter”
(nikhnas) and “go out” (yatza) were used here (as preserved in Ms. Erfurt) and
that later editors of the pardes story adopted the technical vocabulary of “as-
cend” and “descend” in order to convert the story into a Merkavah mystical
experience. What is striking, however, is the fact that the Tosefta adaptation
presents the verbs “ascend” and “descend” in what seems to be the logical order
(one first ascends somewhere, presumably to heaven, and then descends back
home again), whereas Hekhalot Rabbati introduces the (in)famous inverted word
order (one first descends and then ascends), for which a satisfactory explanation
has not yet been found.”
4. Instead of communicating to the reader the contents of the hymns and ex-
plaining how precisely one “descends” and “ascends” safely, the opening sen-
tence continues with the solemn praise of the Merkavah mystic, using the enig-
matic phrase gedullah mi-kullam, which presumably means something like “The
greatest thing of all is that. ...”°* The following units present a catalogue of all
the qualities by which the Merkavah mystic is distinguished from and regarded
as superior to his fellows, and the very first one (§ 81) focuses on his accomplish-
ment as the one who “descends” to the Merkavah (yored la-merkavah):
The greatest thing of all is (that they) are bound to him (/e-hizzagegq lo),
lead him (/e-hakhniso)
and bring him (Jehavi’o)** into the palace chambers (hadrei hekhal) of ‘arevot
raqia‘

22 Chapter 6, pp. 197f.

23 See Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 2f., n. 4; Kuyt, The “Descent” to the
Chariot: Elliot Wolfson, “Yeridah la-Merkavah: Typology of Ecstasy and Enthronement in An-
cient Jewish Mysticism,” in Mystics of the Book: Themes, Topics, and Tj'ypologies, ed. R.A. Her-
era (New York: P. Lang, 1993), pp. 13-44; idem, Speculum, pp. 82-85; Boustan, From Martyr
to Mystic, p. 11, n. 24; Schafer, “In Heaven as It Is in Hell,” pp. 273 f.
24 Gedullah seems to be a noun here, meaning “greatness.” The awkward combination of the
feminine gedullah with the masculine mi-kullam is difficult to harmonize, but the most likely
explanation is that the “greatness” of the Merkavah mystic that distinguishes him “from all the
the other
others” consists of what follows. “From all the others” may well refer to both “all
See
people” and “all the other abilities of the Merkavah mystic” enumerated in what follows.
Schafer, Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Lit eratur, vol. 2, pp. 1f., n. 6.
here
25 According to all the other manuscripts u-/ehavi’o, instead of the incomplete u-/ehavi
in Ms. Oxford.
248 Chapter 8

and place him (/e-ha ‘amido) to the right of the throne of his [God’s] glory
(kisse kevodo),
and sometimes he stands opposite T‘TzS, the Lord, the God of Israel,
in order to see everything that they do before the throne of his glory
and to know everything that will occur in the world in future.

“They” are obviously the angels, who bind themselves to him, the Merkavah
mystic, granting his every wish and desire.”° Here, his (unspoken) desire is to
be brought up to the palace chambers of ‘arevot ragia‘, which is, as we learn
from other Hekhalot sources, the seventh heaven called ‘Aravot. The terminol-
ogy employed here is informed by the imagery of both the Temple (hekhal as
the entrance hall to the Holy of Holies in Solomon’s and Ezekiel’s Temple)’
and the cosmos (‘aravot as the clouds of heaven on which God rides).”* Hence,
the mystic ascends to the heavenly Temple, located in the seventh heaven, that
accommodates the “throne of glory” (another term characteristic of the Hekhalot
literature),”? that is, the throne on which God resides. There can be no doubt,
therefore, that the object of the Merkavah mystic’s desire is God*° seated on
his throne in the heavenly Temple, or, to put it differently, the “vision of the
Merkavah” that the mystic beholds according to the opening unit of Hekhalot
Rabbati is indeed the vision of God seated on his throne. In other words, we are
definitely dealing here with a true visionary experience and not with a mere ex-
egetical exercise.
Our first Gedullah hymn in §§ 81 f. reveals certain details beyond the sheer
fact that the mystic ascends to the heavenly Temple. At first, it tells us that he is
placed “to the right of the throne of glory” without explaining what precisely this
means. We know from the Bible that the prophet Micah saw “the Lord seated
upon his throne, and all the host of heaven standing (‘omed) in attendance to
his right and to his left” (1 Kings 22:19), using the same root ‘amad as does our
hymn in Hekhalot Rabbati. So it seems that the Merkavah mystic joins the rank
of the angels when he attains his desired goal. That he is put, moreover, at the
right side of the throne is clearly an indication of his special and superior status.
The right side of God is no doubt the more important one: it is his right hand
and his mighty arm, with which God swears (Isa. 62:8), and it is again with his
right hand that God offers, according to rabbinic tradition, the Torah to his peo-
ple (Deut. 33:2).3! When Bathsheba, King Solomon’s mother, wishes to speak
to him, he receives her in his throne chamber, seated on his throne, and has a

*° Zaqaq in the Nifal has a magical connotation; see Schafer, Hekhalot-Studien, p. 259.
27 1 Kings 6:2, 7:50 = 2 Chron. 4:22 and more often; Ezek. 8:16, 41 passim.
#8: Ps2.68:5:
9 See Schafer, Konkordanz zur Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 1, pp. 353 ff., s. v. kisse.
*° The strange name employed for God here is peculiar to the Hekhalot literature; see also
Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 92 and 591.
3! Among the many examples, see Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, wa-yehi beshallah 5 (ed.
Horovitz-Rabin, p. 107); Mekhilta de-Rabbi Shim‘on b. Yohai, Ex. 14:22 (ed. Epstein-Mel
a-
 The Merkavah Mystics 249

throne prepared on his right for her to sit on (1 Kings 2:19). The same is true
for David, who is offered a seat at the right hand of God: “The Lord said to my
lord [David]: Sit at my right hand, while I make your enemies your footstool”
(Ps. 110:1). This latter verse seems to have been the Vorlage** for Jesus’s pre-
diction to the members of the Sanhedrin: “From now on you will see the Son of
Man seated at the right hand of the Power (ek dexion tés dynameos) and coming
on the clouds of heaven” (Mt. 26:64).*?
But to be seated at God’s right side is not enough for the Merkavah mys-
tic. Sometimes, Hekhalot Rabbati continues, he is placed opposite God on his
throne — obviously so as not to be just a participant in the heavenly liturgy, like
one of the angels, but to become an observer of what is happening around the
throne of glory: presumably in direct eye contact with God, he not only observes
what the angels do before the throne (that is, how they perform their liturgy) but
from this privileged position he also learns what will happen to the world (that is,
to the people of Israel on earth) in the future. If we read the following paragraph
(§ 82) as the continuation of this sentence — which makes a great deal of sense
in my view** — it explicates precisely what the mystic sees of the future:
(Namely) whom they humiliate, whom they exalt,
whom they weaken, whom they strengthen,
whom they impoverish, whom they enrich,
whom they kill, whom they let live,
from whom they take an inheritance, to whom they give an inheritance,
to whom they bequeath Torah, to whom they give wisdom.

“They,” of course, again refers to the angels, and accordingly, in addition to ob-
serving the heavenly liturgy, the Merkavah mystic gains knowledge of the fu-
ture history as carried out by the angels. The text does not explicitly state how
this knowledge is obtained, but it apparently depends on the mystic’s privileged
position vis-a-vis God. We may assume, therefore, that his knowledge follows
directly from his vision of God. Moreover, since it is the angels who execute
God’s will on earth, it is possible that during their heavenly liturgy the angels
“perform” what will soon become “history,” and that the mystic, through his
direct contact with God, is enabled to “read” the angels’ performance before
the throne of glory. Most important, however, is the fact that it is history that
is revealed to the mystic — more concretely, the history of the people of Israel,
culminating in the revelation of the Torah. No doubt, Hekhalot Rabbati adopts

med, p. 64); Wayyiqra Rabbah 4:1 (ed. Margulies, vol. 1, pp. 79f.); Pesigta Rabbati 31 (ed.
Friedmann, p. 144b); b Berakhot 62a.
32 Together with Dan. 7:13.
33 See also Mk. 14:62; Lk. 22:69.
34 Despite the remark seleg (hilkheta) in most of the manuscripts, which is clearly a later
vol. 2,
addition. Hence, I follow the suggestion made in Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur,
eo, De OL
250 Chapter 8

here a feature with which we are well acquainted from apocalyptic literature,
yet with a peculiar twist: the goal of history, as briefly summarized in § 82, is
the revelation of the Torah.*°
All the subsequent Gedullah hymns emphasize the chosen position of the
Merkavah mystic among his fellow Jews, that is, within his community on earth.
In other words, the purpose of his vision is not an end in itself, nor does it aim at
his personal gratification. To be sure, the hymns take great pains to emphasize
that the mystic’s chosen position is anything but self-evident; on the contrary,
it is quite precarious and needs to be reinforced by God and his angels. Who-
ever raises his hand against him will be severely punished by the heavenly court
(§ 85): “great, evil, and severe blows will fall upon him from heaven” (§ 85)
such as plagues, leprosy, and rash, tumors, foul bruises and wounds, out of which
moist boils seep (§ 84). This is the complete arsenal of deadly illnesses associ-
ated in the Bible in particular with leprosy. Clearly, the position of the mystic in
his community and the validity of his message are rigorously contested. Some
of his fellow Jews insult, despise, and slander him — that is, they do not accept
his claim to be the chosen one of God — but they will immediately be punished
by the angels and destroyed (§ 91). So it is only through the intervention of God
and his angels that the exceptional position of the Merkavah mystic within his
community can be achieved and asserted.
What, then, is the mystic’s message that he delivers on earth, after his return
from heaven and empowered by his vision of the Merkavah? The first men-
tion of his extraordinary qualities (the second Gedullah hymn in § 83) points
out that he “sees (tzofeh) and recognizes all the deeds (ma ‘aseh) of human be-
ings, even (those) that they do in the chambers of chambers (hadrei hadarim),
whether they are good or corrupt deeds.” This sentence is striking because it
uses the very same terminology otherwise reserved for the mystic’s vision of
the Merkavah: /zofeh versus tzefiyyat ha-merkavah (the vision of the Merkavah),
ma ‘aseh versus ma ‘aseh merkavah (the work of the Merkavah), and in particu-
lar heder (chamber), which is very often employed for the heavenly chambers
of the Merkavah, even in the combination hadrei hadarim (“the chambers of
the chambers”).>° Hence, our mystic applies his visionary power in a kind of re-
versed vision. Having returned from the “work” of the Merkavah, he now sees
the hidden “deeds” of his fellow Jews. Unfortunately, the hidden deeds he sees
are all “corrupt” deeds; none of those listed are actually “fine” as promised in the

35 Another possible reading of § 82, of course, is to relate this part of the hymn not to the
people of Israel in general but to the Merkavah mystic in particular: the mystic learns what will
happen fo him in the future, when he returns to earth; he will be the one to whom real know]-
edge of the Torah will be revealed. This interpretation fits well with the overall tenor of the
hymns — the unabashed praise of the Merkavah mystic. But even then the fact remains that the
most important aspect of future history is true knowledge of the Torah.
36 See Schafer, Konkordanz zur Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 1, p. 242, s.v.“heder.”
 The Merkavah Mystics 21

introductory sentence. The list of corrupt deeds presented in the hymn is pretty
common: it singles out robbery, adultery, murder, intercourse with a menstruat-
ing woman, and slander,*’ most of which are part of the Ten Commandments
(murder, adultery, robbery, and bearing false witness against one’s neighbor)**
and constitute the core of the seven Noachide Laws (adultery, bloodshed, and
robbery).*? What is remarkable here is not so much what he sees but rather that
he sees all these hidden deeds, and, moreover — as the hymn continues — identi-
fies the culprits. He knows precisely who did what and, although the text does
not say so explicitly, it is very unlikely that he keeps this knowledge to him-
self. And even if he does, the sinners against the Ten Commandments and the
Noachide Laws (which even gentiles are expected to observe) must have been
prepared — and frightened to death — that their secret sins could be brought to
light any time. This explains the fury directed at him by his fellow Jews and the
need for divine protection.
Another hymn praising the qualities of the Merkavah mystic is even more re-
vealing. I quote it verbatim (§ 86):
The greatest thing of all is the fact
that all the creatures will be before him
like silver before the silversmith, who perceives
which silver has been refined,
which silver is impure,
and which silver is pure.
He even sees (tzofeh) into the families,
how many bastards there are in the family,
how many sons sired during menstruation,
how many with crushed testicles,
how many with mutilated penis,
how many slaves,
and how many sons from uncircumcised (fathers).

According to this hymn, the Merkavah mystic is the ultimate judge who sepa-
rates, like the silversmith, the pure from the impure, the qualified from the un-
qualified. What is at stake is nothing less than the halakhic purity of the families
of his fellow Jews — more precisely, who among his fellows cannot claim to be a
Jew in the full (halakhic) sense of the word.” This is a devastating critique of the

in
37 The following “The greatest thing of all is that he recognizes all those knowledgeable
addition because it breaks the formal pattern of the hymn. But note
magic” seems to be a later
Mal. 3:5
that sorcery is also listed, together with committing adultery and swearing falsely, in
(see below).
your neigh-
38 Bx, 20:13 (“slander” in Hekhalot Rabbati could cover “false witness against
bor” in the Bible).
to refrain from
39 b Sanhedrin 56a: the other laws are to follow established social laws and
blasphemy, idolatry, and eating flesh cut from a living animal.
(mamzerim) are
40 Those with crushed testicles, with their penis cut off, and the bastards
252 Chapter 8

social makeup of the mystic’s community because it presupposes that his purg-
ing act is sorely needed: there is much impure silver in his community, he claims,
that needs to be refined, that is, to be eliminated from the community — a very
bold claim that the mystic arrogates to himself here, and one that becomes even
bolder if we notice the connection with the “messenger of the Lord” in the bib-
lical book Malachi, who clearly serves as the background for our hymn. There
the messenger — who is identical with the angel of the covenant*! and with the
prophet Elijah*? as the precursor of the Messiah* — is announced who prepares
the final day of judgment (Mal. 3:2—5, JPS):
(2) But who can endure the day of his [the messenger-angel’s] coming, and who can
hold out when he appears? For he is like a smelter’s fire and like the fuller’s lye. (3) He
shall act like a smelter and purger of silver; and he shall purify the descendants of Levi
and refine them like gold and silver, so that they shall present offerings in righteous-
ness. ... (5) But [first] I will step forward and contend against you, and I will act as a
relentless accuser against those who have no fear of Me: Who practice sorcery, who
commit adultery, who swear falsely, who cheat laborers of their hire, and who subvert
[the cause of] the widow, orphan, and stranger, said the Lord of Hosts.

In assuming the role of the messenger-angel Elijah, the Merkavah mystic be-
comes the precursor of the Messiah and purifies the community of Israel on
earth. To be sure, the messenger’s act of purification in Malachi is directed pri-
marily at the descendants of Levi, that is, the priests, but we may assume that in
our hymns in Hekhalot Rabbati the community of Israel has adopted the function
of the priests: there is no Temple and there are no longer any priests on earth;
Israel as a whole represents the community of priests needing to be purified, be-
fore the final day of judgment, by the chosen one who has been appointed (in
the heavenly Temple by God himself) as divine messenger and precursor of the
Messiah. Ultimately, then, the vision that the yored merkavah receives in heaven
is what one might call community-oriented:** it prepares him for his mission on
earth, no more and no less. Any kind of personal encounter between the mystic
and God, any description of God seated on his throne, is conspicuously absent.
The goal of the vision is the destiny of Israel, not the physical appearance of
God — let alone a union between the mystic and his master.
The last Gedullah hymn concludes with a bleak warning against a Merkavah
mystic, who has achieved his goal, standing before God on his throne and

explicitly mentioned in Deut. 23:2-3 as the ones who shall not be admitted into the congrega-
tion of the Lord (followed by the no less detested Ammonites and Moabites).
41 Mal. 3:1.
2 Mali3 323)
8 References in Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, p. 43, n. 137.
“* Tt is true, as Martha Himmelfarb reminds me (private communication), that these para-
graphs in the Gedullah hymns are heavily flavored with magic, but I don’t think that the mystic
uses the knowledge and power he attains to his own advantage. What is at stake is not the fate
of the individual but of the community.
 The Merkavah Mystics 253

contemplating (hoshesh) * the Merkavah — but then “leaves him” (apparently

God).*° The following paragraph ( § 93) explains what this means: contempla-
tion of the Merkavah must not be interrupted unless the mystic encounters,
during his contemplation, a king, a high priest, or the complete Sanhedrin with
the patriarch (nasi) in its midst. This provision clearly alludes to the mishnaic
restriction according to which the Shema prayer may only be interrupted under
certain conditions, namely, if one needs to greet or return the greeting of a
higher-ranking person.*”
What is remarkable here is not only the fact that contemplating the Merkavah
is compared with praying the Shema but that contemplation of the Merkavah
is accordingly located on earth and not in heaven. For it makes little sense to
imagine the Merkavah mystic encountering the king, high priest, and Sanhe-
' drin in heaven. Hence, need we conclude that the mystic is visualized here as
someone who remains with his body on earth, whereas (only) his mind/soul*®
has ascended to heaven? This fits well with the famous story about R. Nehunya
b. Haqanah’s release from the Merkavah, in which his colleagues put a branch
of myrtle soaked in pure balsam on his knees to bring him back from his “vi-
sion of the Merkavah’”*? — if his colleagues can put something on his knees, R.
Nehunya b. Haqanah must still be physically present among them during his
contemplation of the Merkavah. Since the provision regarding contemplation of
the Merkavah in § 93 is introduced by the phrase, “Thus do they teach about the
vision of the Merkavah (bitzfiyyat ha-merkavah),” which refers back to the open-
ing phrase in § 81 (/e-histakkel bitzfiyyat [|ha-\merkavah), one might be inclined
to argue that the vision of the Merkavah as perceived in the Gedullah hymns
(at the programmatic beginning of Hekhalot Rabbati) is indeed meant to be a
mental rather than a bodily experience and is presented here as a discipline that
certain chosen individuals practice on earth, with their mind/soul in heaven, for
the benefit of the earthly community. This is certainly a possibility, but still, we
shouldn’t overemphasize the problem of the mystic’s physical presence on earth.
The comparison of contemplating the Merkavah with praying the Shema inevita-
bly leads to the question of whether or not this act may be interrupted — despite
the fact that praying the Shema is located on earth, whereas contemplating the
Merkavah nevertheless may well take place in heaven. The Hekhalot literature
does not always follow our logic.

45 This here is the meaning of hashash, as in the following section § 93, and not as rendered
fears the
in the German translation (Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, p. 9): “who
Merkavah.”
46 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 92.
47 m Berakhot 2:1.
remains on
48 The texts do not distinguish between body and soul/ mind; but if the body
earth, something of the individual’ s persona must ascend to heaven.
49 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 225 f£.; see below, pp. 276f.
254 Chapter 8

2. The Oedushah Hymns

The Gedullah hymns are followed by the Qedushah hymns, a series of songs
that climax in the solemn quotation of Isa. 6:3 “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of
Hosts” — the so-called Qedushah or Trishagion (§§ 94-106).°° They are con-
nected to the first paragraph (§ 81) with an opening phrase whose precise mean-
ing unfortunately remains cryptic.°! Whether it refers to hymns different from
those mentioned in § 81 (which seems to me unlikely) or to hymns at a differ-
ent stage of the descent to the Merkavah, or just to the proper recitation of the
hymns, »* there can be little doubt that they apply to the Merkavah mystic and
hence are hymns to be recited by the mystic. What they contain, however, are
highly poetic descriptions of the Qedushah, that is, the heavenly throne ritual,
as performed by the angelic hosts; again, the mystic is nowhere explicitly men-
tioned in these hymns.
The hymns begin with the praise uttered daily by the “princes” (sarim) who
serve God and his throne. The throne plays almost as important a role as God,
since he — the throne — is personified and addressed as someone who not only
carries God but is in constant dialogue with his Lord (§ 94). The rejoicing and
recitation emanating from the mouth of the angelic hosts materializes in moun-
tains of fire (§ 95). One high angel in particular is singled out as someone who
is in awe and horrified because he is called daily to serve the (divine) might and
literally dragged on his knees to the throne of glory (§ 96). We are not told who
this angel is, but he may well be Metatron*™ or the soon to appear Angel of the
Countenance (that is, of the divine presence). The divine voice from Ezek. 1:25
explains to him that those who drag him to the throne — presumably his feliow
angels — are right to do so (§ 97). Then God is described as seated in the cham-
bers of his palace of exaltation, stillness, terror and fear, holiness, and purity
(ibid.), followed by a description of the throne, who does not rest his feet on
the ground of the highest heaven “but rather is like a bird who hovers and rises
beneath him [God]” (§ 98). Even the angels who carry the throne of glory do
not rest their feet on the ground of heaven but hover like birds, and three times
daily the throne asks God (here the name ZHRRY’L is used) to sit down on him
(§ 99).

°° See Alexander Altman, “Qedushah Hymns in the Early Heikhalot Literature,” Melilah 2
(1946), pp. 1-24 (in Hebrew).
>! Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 81: “which are the hymns”; ibid., § 94: “what is the
eae [from] the hymns/what is the explanation/what is the [proper] recitation of the
ymns.”
*? See the discussion of the various possibilities in Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur,
vol. 2, pp. 10f., n. 2.
°3 On Metatron, see below, pp. 294ff,318 ff.
4 T purposely employ the pronoun “who” here, because the throne is clearly envisioned as
a person.
 The Merkavah Mystics 25)

The heavenly liturgy culminates in a description of God himself* as he ap-

proaches on the highest heaven — or rather, not a description of God but of the
horror experienced by those present and kept at bay by the fire emanating from
the mouth of the keruvim (=cherubim), ofannim, and holy creatures when they
utter the Qedushah (strikingly, the text finds it necessary to emphasize that this
is precisely the time when Israel pronounces the Qedushah in its synagogues on
earth). They are terrified, faint, and fall backward (§ 101), very much like the
seer in the earlier apocalypses who approaches God. The horror is intensified
by the vision of the gown worn by God (again ZHRRY’L) when he comes to
sit down on his throne, because it is covered with various manifestations of the
divine name, the Tetragrammaton (§ 102).*°
The text is remarkably ambiguous about the witnesses of God’s appearance
and his taking a seat on the throne of glory. It refers vaguely to “‘all those who
are in the height (of heaven)” (§ 101), and one is inclined to read this as an al-
lusion to all kinds of angels (exclusive of the keruvim, ofannim, and holy crea-
tures, who carry the throne and exude fire when pronouncing the Qedushah). But
this is too simplistic a reading, not only because Israel’s Qedushah is mentioned
as well, but even more so because the text explicitly continues that no creature
can see the divine gown, “not the eyes (of a human being) of flesh and blood,
and not the eyes of his [God’s] attendants,” and that the “man” who beholds the
gown will be burned (§ 102).*” Hence, it is obviously the angels and human be-
ings who are imagined as observers of God’s appearance in the highest heaven.
Paradoxically, both are declared incapable of beholding God’s gown (let alone
himself), although the disastrous consequences are more gravely emphasized for
human beings than for the angels. This impression is reinforced by the following
Qedushah hymn (§§ 103 f.), which drastically pictures the consequences for the
one who listens to the song of the keruvim, the ofannim, and the holy creatures
(the bearers of the throne of glory): he becomes insane, he is seized by spasms
and dies immediately, his body is shattered, his ribs are torn out, he is dissolved
in blood, his heart is stabbed, and his gall will become like water — all allusions
to human beings and not to angels. So it seems, in fact, that it is more the mys-
tic’s approach to and vision of God that is at stake here than that of the angels.
Ultimately, then, the Qedushah hymns describe what the Merkavah mystic sees
in heaven and the dangers that await him there. The last paragraph concluding

55 God is clearly the subject here and not the Angel of the Countenance, who is previously
mentioned as a major player in the heavenly performance.
gown,
56 Fyrther down in the paragraph the frightening vision is that of the “eyes” of the
on the gown that consist of divine names. In §§ 246f. the mystic is fright-
presumably the eyes
ened by the eyes of the holy creatures.
57 { do not see what this paragraph should have to do with the transformation of the mystic,
Mysticism in
as Morray-Jones claims; see Christopher R.A. Morray-Jones, “Transformational
Jewish Gnos-
the Apocalyptic-Merkabah Tradition,” JJS 43 (1992), p. 25, following Scholem,
ticism, p. 60.
256 Chapter 8

the Qedushah hymns (§ 106) clearly wishes to convey this message: it maintains
that R. Aqiva heard all these hymns during his descent to the Merkavah and that
he learned them — hardly for the sake of heaven but rather so as to remember
and, most likely, pass them on to his worthy colleagues.

3. The Ten Martyrs Narrative

The next unit (microform), inserted into the macroform Hekhalot Rabbati by
its editor, is the famous story of the Ten Martyrs in its Merkavah mystical form
($§ 107-121). As Ra‘anan Boustan, following Gottfried Reeg,** has pointed
out, it is a very peculiar version of the post-talmudic “Story of the Ten Martyrs”
(Ma‘aseh asarah harugei malkhut), in fact a complete inversion of traditional
Jewish martyrology: the rabbinical martyr, who suffers and sacrifices himself
for the benefit of the community of Israel, is superseded by the rabbinical mys-
tic, who is miraculously vindicated by God’s intervention without suffering and
sacrifice.>
After the Merkavah mystic has been proven, in the Gedullah hymns, to be
superior to his fellow Jews — that is, as Boustan has put it, to the “enemy-
within” — the Ten Martyrs Narrative in Hekhalot Rabbati comes to prove his
superiority to the outside enemy, the Roman Empire. In a highly ironical story,
the horrible fate meant for the ten sages of Israel — namely to be executed by
the Roman government as punishment for the sin of the sons of Jacob who sold
their brother Joseph to the Midianites — is inverted and inflicted on the Roman
emperor Lupinus:® one of the ten would-be martyrs, R. Hananyah b. Teradyon,
takes the place of the emperor Lupinus, whereas Lupinus takes the place of the
rabbi, and the rabbi-emperor (Hananyah) has the emperor-rabbi (Lupinus) ex-
ecuted in his stead — exactly ten times, because Lupinus impersonates not only
Hananyah b. Teradyon but all ten sages.
This remarkable story is fitted into Hekhalot Rabbati by means of a descent
to the Merkavah: one of the rabbis, R. Nehunya b. Haganah (the rabbi whom we
will encounter later as the one who is “called back” by his fellow rabbis from
his vision of the Merkavah), learns of the decree issued against the ten rabbis
and leads R. Ishmael, the narrator of the story and his fellow rabbi, down to the
Merkavah. Not only is the terminology employed here unusual enough (the typi-
cal yarad, “to descend,” is used in the causative Hif*il: he [Ishmael] was caused
by someone else [Nehunya b. Haqanah] to descend to the Merkavah), R. Ish-

°* Gottfried Reeg, ed., Die Geschichte von den Zehn Martyrern (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr
[Paul Siebeck], 1985).
°° Boustan, From Martyr to Mystic, pp. 30ff. (the literary relationship between the narra-
tive in Hekhalot Rabbati and “The Story of the Ten Martyrs”), pp. 199 ff. (genre inversion and
identity reversal). :
6° A fictitious name.
 The Merkavah Mystics Za1

mael does not see the divine throne and the happenings around it (as one would
expect); rather, he encounters Suriyah, the Prince of the Countenance, asks him
what this is all about, and receives a proper explanation from him. Thereafter,
when he returns from heaven, the text quite stereotypically remarks that he re-
ports to his fellow rabbis what he has witnessed before the throne of glory, al-
though in fact, he has heard only Suriyah’s explanation and has himself seen
nothing. So the connection of the Ten Martyrs Narrative with Hekhalot Rabbati
is quite superficial and clearly very late. It takes a descent to the Merkavah for
granted but modifies it to adapt it to its inverted version of the story of the Ten
Martyrs. The underlying message is that the Merkavah mystic is not only mas-
ter over his fellow Jews but also — as the martyr-turned-savior — master over the
greatest enemy of the Jewish people, the Roman Empire. Moreover, and most
important, the story tells us that the Merkavah mystic is not just any Jew but that
he belongs to the rabbinical elite. We ought to have gathered this already from
the very beginning of Hekhalot Rabbati, which is put into the mouth of no less
a rabbi than R. Ishmael, but now we know for sure: R. Ishmael is one of the ten
rabbinical heroes who are miraculously saved from martyrdom and instead be-
come saviors of the Jewish people.

4. The Apocalypses

The quasi-messianic qualities of the Merkavah mystic (Gedullah hymns),

the dangers that the chosen mystic is exposed to and ultimately overcomes
(Qedushah hymns), and the martyr-turned-savior role that he assumes (Ten
Martyrs Narrative) all leave scant room for the traditional rabbinic concept of
the Messiah and messianic expectations. It should come as no surprise, there-
fore, that the Hekhalot literature remains conspicuously silent about the Mes-
siah: the mystic has rendered him superfluous. This is a remarkable claim, and
it should also come as no surprise that certain editors of Hekhalot manuscripts
were not particularly happy with such a message and found it necessary to add
more traditional Messiah-oriented material. This is precisely what happened in
the New York manuscript:°! its editor added three units that in form and con-
tent more closely resemble the classical apocalypses than what we can expect
from Merkavah mystical texts. Since these three apocalypses appear only in Ms.
New York (written around the end of the fifteenth or the beginning of the six-
teenth century), which is prone to additions from the viewpoint of the Hasidei

61 Ms. New York 8128 in the Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, see the details there, pp.
XXIV.
62 With the exception of the first one, the David apocalypse, which is also preserved in Ms.
Budapest, an Italian manuscript from the fifteenth century.
258 Chapter 8

Ashkenaz,® and since all of them are also transmitted independently,® it is safe
to assume that their insertion into Hekhalot Rabbati was indeed the work of an
editor who wished to counterbalance the too radical message — for his taste — of
the macroform.
The first one, the David apocalypse (§§ 122-126), comes as a revelation of
Sasangi’el, the Prince of the Countenance, to R. Ishmael. It is replete with the
traditional language of the classical apocalypses (heavenly treasure houses, dif-
ferent classes of angels, audition, vision, the visionary falling backward) and dis-
guises itself only superficially and awkwardly as a Merkavah mystical ascent.®
After a rather enigmatic prediction of the destruction of the Temple (§ 123), it
culminates in a vision of King David appearing at the head of a procession of all
the Davidic kings and taking his place of honor on a throne opposite the throne
of God (§§ 125f.). David utters “hymns and praises that no ear has ever heard”
(§ 126) — except, of course, R. Ishmael’s — and that culminate in the praise of
God’s kingship. No doubt that David is imagined here as the Davidic Messiah,
of whose privileged position in heaven (and speedy appearance on earth?) the
visionary is reassured.
The second apocalypse (§§ 130—-138),°° published separately under the title
“A ggadat R. Ishmael” by Even-Shemuel,*’ presents a peculiar mix of calcula-
tions of the end and the rabbinic emphasis on repentance as the prerequisite for
redemption. And finally, the last apocalypse (§§ 140—145)* is the most blatantly
messianic.© Metatron, the Prince of the Countenance, reveals to R. Ishmael the
messianic end: the final battle of the nations against Israel and the public appear-
ance of the Messiah (released from his prison), who resuscitates those killed in
action and proves himself to be the leader of the world to whom all the nations
surrender. A very active Messiah indeed compared with the role granted him in
most apocalyptic as well as rabbinic texts, where at least the resuscitation of the
dead is left to God alone.”
°3 See Klaus Herrmann and Claudia Rohrbacher-Sticker, “Magische Traditionen der New
Yorker Hekhalot-Handschrift JTS 8128 im Kontext ihrer Gesamtredaktion,” F/B 17 (1989),
pp. 101-149.
® See the references in Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, p. XI.
6° Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 123: “at the hour when I descended from before him
(varadeti mi-lefanaw).”
6° The following § 139 recapitulates § 120.
°? Yehudah Even-Shemuel, Midreshe Ge’ullah, 2nd ed. (Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 1953—
1954), pp. 148-152.
°* The following §§ 146-151 are only loosely connected traditions about cosmology, re-
pentance, Metatron’s ascent, and texts that are also known from the Bavli (Hagigah 13a, Be-
rakhot 7a).
® Published separately under the title “Messiah Aggada” by Even-Shemuel, Midreshe
Ge’ullah, pp. 326-327.
7 Although, to be sure, here too it is ultimately God who does the job, since the Messiah
prays to God before the dead are resurrected. But still, the Messiah’s role seems to receive
greater emphasis than usual.
 The Merkavah Mystics 259

5. Qedushah Hymns and Hymns of Praise

With the beginning of § 152 most of the other manuscripts of Hekhalot Rabbati
join in again. The paragraphs 152-197 are a loosely edited collection of units that
focus on hymns of praise and protocols of the heavenly liturgy, many of these
hymns concluding once more with the Trishagion of Isa. 6:3 and thus proving to
be Qedushah hymns that refer back to the Qedushah hymns of §§ 94-106.
Like the earlier Qedushah hymns, the hymns to be discussed here deal mainly
with the bearers of the divine throne (according to the taxonomy of Hekhalot
Rabbati the keruvim, ofannim, and holy creatures), God, the exalted King sit-
ting on his throne in the highest palace, and the throne as the subject and even
object of praise.’! In addition to the bearers of the throne, however, some higher
angels are singled out (§ 156) who are in direct dialogue with God (§ 157) and
are praised as those who “abolish the decree” and “remind (God?) of his (?) love
(for Israel?),”’* possibly a reference to the Ten Martyrs Narrative and the apoca-
lypses. Then, quite unexpectedly, a passage follows (§ 159) praising God’s coun-
tenance, a new subject in Hekhalot Rabbati. The beauty of God’s countenance is
so overwhelming that it has a destructive effect on the observer:
Who looks at him [God],
will immediately be torn;
and who gazes at his beauty,
will immediately be poured out like a jug.

This obviously refers back to § 104, but whereas § 104 remained vague about
the addressees of this caveat (yet most likely having human beings in particular
in mind), the continuation of our text makes it unequivocally clear that now it is
the angels who are unable to bear God’s beauty:
Those who serve him today,
will no longer serve him tomorrow,
and those who serve him tomorrow,
will no longer serve him.
For their strength becomes weak
and their faces grow dark,
their hearts go astray,
and their eyes become darkened,
due to the embellishment
of the splendor of the beauty of their king,
as it is said: Holy, holy, holy (Isa. 6:3).

71 Quite literally, §§ 94, 95, and 81 are quoted or alluded to in §§ 154 and 155. One major
difference between these hymns and the Qedushah hymns of §§ 94-106 is the use of the term
Shekhinah for God here.
72 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 158.
260 Chapter 8

So the angels (God’s servants, who surround him and carry his throne) are un-
able to see his beauty — that is, unless they perish. But what about human beings,
what about the Merkavah mystic? The text now turns to them, after once again
describing the heavenly choreography of the bearers of the throne and praising
them as true servants of their God (§ 160). From the liturgy of the keruvim, ofan-
nim, and holy creatures emanate, literally, rivers of praise, but this praise of the
bearers of the throne is supplemented — or more precisely, chronologically coor-
dinated — with the Qedushah of Israel on earth. Here, slowly but unmistakably,
the earthly community of Israel sneaks in; the Qedushah is no longer the heay-
enly Qedushah of the angels alone but the Qedushah of the angels and of Israel.
To be sure, the people of Israel were also mentioned in the Qedushah hymns of
§§ 94-106,” but now they are much more prominent and even more important
than the angels. The Qedushah uttered by the throne of glory (§ 162) praises God
as the “mighty of Jacob/Israel,” and this praise leads to two passages (§§ 163
and 164) that are hitherto unheard of in Hekhalot Rabbati. Now, for the very first
time, the Merkavah mystic is directly and bluntly addressed:
Blessed unto heaven and earth are they who descend to the Merkavah,
when you tell and make known to my sons
what I do during the morning prayer, during the Minha and the evening
prayer,
every day and at every hour,
when Israel says before me “holy.”
Teach them and tell them:
Raise your eyes to the heaven (raqia‘)opposite your house of prayer
at the hour when you say before me “holy.”
For I have no joy in my entire eternal house, which I created,
except” at that hour,
in which your eyes are raised to my eyes
and my eyes are raised to your eyes,
(namely) at the hour in which you say before me “holy.”

The scenario described here is that of the Merkavah mystic in heaven, directly
addressed by God and instructed as to what message he is to convey to the com-
munity of Israel on his return to earth. God wants the mystic to tell the earthly
community what he does during Israel’s daily prayers in their synagogues and
what the mystic obviously witnesses, but, using highly dramatic delaying tac-
tics, he does not immediately reveal what the mystic sees and what he wants him
to convey to Israel; rather, he first instructs the mystic to tell the earthly com-
munity to raise their eyes to the raqia‘ — that is, to the highest heaven, God’s
abode — at precisely the time when they utter the Qedushah. This is unusual
3 Thid:, § 101:
™ “Except” (ella) according to Mss. New York 8128 and Munich 22. All the other manu-
scripts in the Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur leave ella out and distort the meaning of the
sentence.
 The Merkavah Mystics 261

enough, because it is assumed that somehow they are expected to gaze heav-
enward during their prayer, presumably outside the synagogue (of course, one
could argue that Israel may well see the raqia‘ within their synagogues, but the
text explicitly says “opposite — ke-neged — your house of prayer’”).”> But then
God continues, even more conspicuously, that he in fact couldn’t care less about
Israel’s synagogue service (with the synagogue suddenly called “eternal house,
which I [God] created,” clearly comparing or rather equating the synagogue
with the Temple) except at that precise and very precious moment when Israel,
during the Qedushah, looks directly into God’s eyes and God looks directly into
Israel’s eyes.
The climax — what God does during Israel’s Qedushah as observed by the
mystic — comes in the following section (§ 164):
Bear witness to them’® of what testimony you see in me
regarding what I do to the countenance of Jacob, your father,’”
which is engraved unto me upon the throne of my glory.
For at the hour when you say before me “holy,”
I bend down over it,
caress, kiss and embrace it,
and my hands (lie) upon his’® arms,
three times, when you say before me “holy,”
as it is said: Holy, holy, holy (Isa. 6:3).

That the image or, more precisely, the countenance/ visage of Jacob is engraved
on God’s throne in heaven is a well-known rabbinic tradition, attested to in a
large number of Palestinian as well as Babylonian sources” and discussed by
several scholars.° What is completely new, however, and unique to Hekhalot
Rabbati is God’s dramatic expression of love to Jacob. In a gesture that can
hardly be overestimated in its erotic intimacy, he embraces and kisses the image
of Jacob’s countenance on his throne. Elliot Wolfson has observed that several

75 | do not think that ke-neged here means “facing your house of prayer,” a possibility we
considered in Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, p. 96, n. 8.
76 Following Mss. Vatican 228 and Budapest 238.
71 Following Mss. New York 8128, Munich 40, Munich 22, Dropsie 436, and Budapest
238.
78 Following Mss. Vatican 228 and Munich 22; the other manuscripts read “my arms,” which
does not make much sense. However, “his arms” is also not easy to understand, because it is the
countenance of Jacob that is engraved on the throne, not Jacob’s entire body. Wolfson, Specu-
lum, p. 101, n. 129, translates “its arms,” which he understands as referring to the throne.
79 See, e.g., Fragment-Targum and Targum Pseudo Jonathan Gen. 28:12; Bereshit Rabbah
68:12; 82:2; b Hullin 91b.
80 See most recently and comprehensively Elliot R. Wolfson, “The Image of Jacob Engraved
upon the Throne: Further Reflection on the Esoteric Doctrine of the German Pietists,” in idem,
Along the Path: Studies in Kabbalistic Myth, Symbolism, and Hermeneutics (Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1995), pp. 1-62; idem, Speculum, pp. 101 f. (with the most im-
portant references on p. 101, n. 127).
262 Chapter 8

of the pronouns and suffixes employed in the text are feminine, as opposed to the
masculine forms one would expect with gelaster panim (“countenance/ visage’’)
as the subject.*! This can easily be explained, however, as referring to the fact
that the heavenly Jacob, engraved on God’s throne, is obviously visualized as the
celestial representative of Israel on earth, the (feminine) kenesset Israel — with-
out here venturing into the contested territory of God’s sexuality and an alleged
sacred union in male-female or male-male — that is, homoerotic — terms.*? When
Israel utters the Qedushah on earth, this would seem to be the message of our
paragraph, God displays his overwhelming love to the image of Jacob, Israel’s
counterpart in heaven, which is physically closer to him than anything else. Pre-
sumably, the image is engraved on the armrests of his throne and therefore is
easily touched by God when he sits down on the throne. And this is no doubt
the message that God wishes the Merkavah mystic to convey to his community
on earth: God is there, up in heaven; I have seen him, and he still loves us more
than anything else. When we, in our synagogues, sing the Qedushah, he not only
listens to us, he embraces and kisses us through the image of our father Jacob/
Israel, who is engraved on his throne in perpetual memory of God’s unceasing
love for us.®?
The subject of God’s preference for Israel over the angels — including his be-
loved holy creatures, the bearers of his throne — becomes an ever more prominent
feature in subsequent sections of our microform. The holy creatures utter the se-
cret name of God by which heaven and earth were created (§§ 165f., 168), and
their praise leads to a brief and rather fragmentary Shi‘ur Qomah piece (§ 167:
the distance between the throne and the figure seated on the throne, the measure-
ment of the figure’s eyes and arms, concluding with the classical quotation from
Cant. 5:9-16).*4 Then the text returns to the Merkavah mystic, threatening him
with severe punishment if he does not convey to the earthly community what he
has heard and seen in heaven (§ 169):
A heavenly decree (of punishment shall befall) you,
you who descend to the Merkavah,
if you do not report and say what you have heard,
and if you do not testify what you have seen upon the countenance:
countenance of elevation and might,
of pride and eminence,
which exalts itself,
which raises itself,
which rages (and) shows itself great.

8! Wolfson, Speculum, p. 101, nn. 125, 126, 128.

* Wolfson, “Image of Jacob,” pp. 26 ff.; idem, Speculum, p. 102.
88 For an intriguing attempt to locate this passage in the cultural context of the early, pre-
Iconoclast Byzantine period, see Rachel Neis, “Embracing Icons: The Face of Jacob on the
Throne of God,” Images 1 (2007), pp. 36-54.
84 Only in Ms. Budapest 238.
 The Merkavah Mystics 263

The countenance shows itself mighty and great

three times daily in the heights,
and no human being knows and recognizes it,
as it is said:
Holy, holy, holy (Isa. 6:3).

This passage clearly refers back to § 159, which also praises and describes God’s
countenance — a countenance that cannot be perceived by the angels. Here, on
the contrary, the Merkavah mystic is called on to communicate his vision to the
people of Israel on earth: to be sure, no human being can perceive God’s coun-
tenance, as the text emphasizes at the end, but nevertheless, the Merkavah mys-
tic not only does see and perceive it, he is explicitly instructed not to keep it to
himself but to reveal it to the earthly community. Unfortunately, the text fails to
tell us what it is the mystic sees on God’s countenance; but I have argued that
it is most likely the reflection of the heavenly liturgy on God’s face — God’s re-
sponse, so to speak, to the liturgical event taking place in heaven as expressed
on his face.®> I would even go a step further and add, in light of § 163, that God
responds not only to the heavenly liturgy performed by the angels but also to
the liturgy of Israel performed in their synagogues on earth. As we have learned
from § 163, the heavenly liturgy is incomplete without Israel’s participation (or
rather, does not really count without Israel’s Qedushah); therefore, God’s face
reacts to the full force of the combined heavenly and earthly Qedushah, and it is
the Merkavah mystic’s task to communicate this reaction — God’s majesty and
might nourished, as it were, by angelic and human praise — to his fellow Jews
on earth.
The following sections (§§ 170ff.) again praise the bearers of the divine
throne (the ofannim, keruvim, and above all the holy creatures) — but also do not
miss the opportunity to emphasize that God is particularly pleased with Israel’s
prayer and with the ascent of the Merkavah mystic to his throne (presumably
because he will report all this to the earthly community). Paragraph 173 makes
God’s preference for Israel over the holy creatures once more explicit:
Every day when the dawn approaches,
the adorned king sits and blesses the (Holy) Creatures (hayyot):
To you, Creatures, do I speak,
before you, Creatures, do I make myself heard,
Creatures, Creatures,
who carry** the throne of my*’ glory,
wholeheartedly and gladly.

85 Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, p. 18.

86 Following all the other manuscripts (with the exception of Munich 22), instead of the cor-
rupt reading in Ms. Oxford 1531.
87 According to most of the other manuscripts, instead of “his” in Ms. Oxford 1531.
264 Chapter 8

Blessed is the hour (in which) I created*® you;

exalted is the constellation under which I formed you.
The light of that day shall light up,
(that day on which) you came to mind in my heart,
for you are (the) precious vessel
that I have prepared and completed on that (very day).*?
Do silence for me” the voice of my creatures”! that I created,
so that I can hear and hearken to the prayer of my sons.

At first sight there is nothing new about this passage. It contains the usual and
well-known favor that God bestows on his beloved holy creatures.” The setting
is just before dawn, presumably immediately before the morning prayer. What
is completely unexpected, however, is the sudden turn that God’s speech takes
at the end: despite all the hard work that the holy creatures devote to their Mas-
ter (in carrying his throne), when the time for the morning prayer has come he
wants them to keep all the heavenly creatures” silent, and themselves to remain
silent, because he wants to listen first to the prayer of Israel, which is about to
rise up to heaven from the earthly synagogues. If there could be any doubt that
the “creatures” meant to be silenced are the heavenly creatures, two manuscripts
(New York 8128 and Vatican 228) add a paragraph (§ 174) that makes God’s
message crystal clear: “Do silence for me the voice of the creatures that I cre-
ated, (namely) every individual angel and every individual Seraph, every indi-
vidual Holy Creature and every individual Ofan that I created until I can hear
and hearken to the beginning of all the hymns and praises and prayers and the
pleasant chant of Israel’s songs.” There is no doubt that when it comes to the
morning prayer, God wishes to concentrate on Israel, and not on the heavenly
host. The text does not tell us what happens to the angels’ prayer, but we may

88 So with the other manuscripts, instead of the double “formed” in Ms. Oxford 1531.
8° Unlike the German translation (Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, p. 112), I
apply the difficult bo not to keli (“vessel”) but to yom (“day”).
°° Mss. Oxford 1531, New York 8128, Munich 40, and Dropsie 436 actually have here a
subordinate clause, introduced by ki — “for”: “for you should silence for me ...,” which does
not fit in well with the preceding passage. I follow, therefore, Mss. Munich 22, Vatican 228, and
Budapest 238 which leave out the ki.
*! “Creatures” here not in the technical sense of the holy creatures but of all the heavenly
creatures, including the holy creatures.
°° ‘What is unique, however, is that the holy creatures are called God’s “precious vessel” (keli
hemdah). This term is used in the Bible in a neutral way (see Jer. 25:34; Hos. 13:15; Nah. 2:10;
2 Chron. 32:27), but serves in the rabbinic literature as a term for the Torah (see m Avot 3: 14).
In the Hekhalot literature the term is assigned to the throne of glory (see, e. g., Synopse zur He-
khalot-Literatur, §§ 94, 154, 634, 686, 687, and Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 13,
with n. 7, 97, 118f.). Presumably, the holy creatures become the precious vessel because they
carry God’s throne, but what is remarkable is the shift in emphasis from the Torah in the clas-
sical rabbinic literature to God’s throne in the Hekhalot literature.
°3 This is what “creatures” can only mean in this context, as opposed to “my sons.”
 The Merkavah Mystics 265

presume — as is made explicit in the following paragraphs” — that the angels are
allowed to join in with Israel’s prayer after Israel gets started (and after God has
had a chance to listen to their voice alone).
Only when the angels in heaven have heard Israel’s prayer on earth are they
able to join in with their Qedushah from above (§ 179). However, since it is the
(regular) angels’ task to go down to earth for certain errands on behalf of God,
they need to purify themselves when they return to heaven (§ 181 f.). After their
purification they join the holy creatures and the other angels serving the divine
throne, but they are not allowed to see the image of God seated on the throne
(§ 183). The same is even true for the holy creatures: “they cover their faces”
with lightning, and the Holy One, blessed be He, uncovers his face” (§ 184).
There is nothing peculiar about this restriction: we know by now that even the
~ angels that are closest to God (the bearers of his throne) do not really see him,
quite in contrast to the Merkavah mystic. This message is reinforced by § 189,
the first paragraph that is once more shared by all the major manuscripts:
Each and every day when the Minha prayer approaches,
(the) adorned king sits and extols the (Holy) Creatures (hayyot).
Even before the speech from his mouth is completed,
the Holy Creatures come forth from beneath the throne of glory,
from their mouths the fullness of rejoicing,
with their wings the fullness of exaltation;
their hands playing (instruments)
and their feet dancing.
They go around and surround their king,
one from his right and another one from his left,
one from in front of him and another one from behind him.
They embrace and kiss him
and uncover their countenance;
they uncover, but the king of glory covers his countenance.
And the ‘arevot ragia®’ bursts open like a sieve”®
because of the glorious king,
of the radiance,
of the beauty,
of the form,
of the desire,

%4 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 178 ff. The paragraphs 178-188 seem to be an origi-
nally independent unit that was incorporated into Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit (Ms. Oxford 1531)
and Hekhalot Rabbati (only in Mss. New York 8128 and Vatican 228); cf. Schafer, Hekhalot-
Studien, pp. 267 ff.
95 So with Ms. Munich 22 (§ 534) instead of the less meaningful “his face” in Ms. New York
8128. Ms. Oxford 1531 leaves this sentence out.
% According to all the other manuscripts hen, instead of the corrupt hu here in Ms. Oxford
1531.
97 That is the topmost heaven, “Aravot.
238.
98 “T ike a sieve” in Mss. New York 8128, Munich 40, Vatican 228, and Budapest
266 Chapter 8

of the compassion,
of the longing (for the) brilliance of the tiara,
in which their countenance appears,
as it is said: Holy, holy, holy (Isa. 6:3).

Whereas during the Qedushah of the morning prayer the angels and the holy
creatures cover their faces and God uncovers his face (§§ 183 f.), we now learn
that during the afternoon prayer’s Qedushah just the opposite takes place: the
holy creatures uncover their faces and God covers his face. Obviously, God does
not want his face to be seen by the angels or even by the holy creatures that he
explicitly extols over and over again. But apart from this message, the scene
described in this paragraph gets an almost unprecedented sexual tinge: the holy
creatures court God as a bridegroom courts his bride. The climax of their court-
ship is to embrace and kiss God and to uncover their faces — clearly in the expec-
tation that God will respond by likewise uncovering his face and embracing and
kissing them. This is sexual enough, and I think there is little need to go to the
extremes of a Halperin or Wolfson, with their vaginamorphic and phallomorphic
interpretations.” But God rejects his beloved holy creatures, whose radiant faces
and desire are so forceful that they break open the highest heaven; he rebuffs
them, and, in covering his face, withdraws from them. Their exuberant longing
and desire do not meet with the hoped-for response.
There is only one passage in Hekhalot Rabbati (and actually in the entire
Hekhalot literature) that uses similar language and imagery, and that is the pas-
sage discussed above describing what God does to the face of Jacob, engraved on
his throne, when Israel utters the Qedushah on earth (§ 164): he “caresses, kisses,
and embraces it.” But whereas in § 164 it is God who kisses and embraces Jacob,
Israel’s counterpart in heaven, here it is the four holy creatures that surround God
from all four sides, “embrace and kiss him,” and, in so doing, eagerly uncover
their faces. Hence, when God refuses to respond to their advances by cover-
ing his face, he does not just reject the courtship of the holy creatures because
they are not supposed to see his face; rather, he rejects their courtship because
he favors Israel over the holy creatures. This, I believe, is the true message of
our paragraph, and not the sexual implications (that, to be sure, are undoubtedly
present, but have been overemphasized by Halperin and Wolfson) or God’s at-
tempt to establish peace in heaven by allaying the angels’ envy of their human
rivals, as has been suggested by Goldberg.!° As to the latter suggestion, just the

°° David Halperin, “A Sexual Image in Hekhalot Rabbati and Its Implications,” in Joseph
Dan, ed., Early Jewish Mysticism: Proceedings of the First International Conference on the
History of Jewish Mysticism (Jerusalem: Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1987), pp. 117 ff.;
Wolfson, Speculum, pp. 103-105.
100 Arnold Goldberg, “Einige Bemerkungen zu den Quellen und den redaktionellen Ein-
heiten der Grossen Hekhalot,” in idem, Mystik und Theologie des rabbinischen Judentums,
vol. 1, pp. 49-77.
 The Merkavah Mystics 267

opposite is true; God does not allay the angels’ envy but in almost brutal fashion
exposes their unwanted affection. Despite his fondness for the holy creatures in
particular, when it comes to Israel, God makes it unmistakably clear once more
that his real love is for Israel and Israel alone.
The following paragraph (§ 190) supports this interpretation in quite an ironi-
cal way. Although the addressees of this again highly poetical section are not
explicitly mentioned, it is almost certain that the angels, including the holy
creatures, are being invoked. They are addressed as those who abolish the di-
vine decree against Israel, who remind God of his love for his people when he
is angry with them:!°!
They throw down their crowns
and loosen their loins
and beat their heads
and fall upon their faces and say:
Loosen, loosen, former of creation,
forgive, forgive, noble one of Jacob,
pardon, pardon, holy one of Israel,
for you are a powerful one of the kings. ...
Why do you feel hostility against the seed of Abraham?
Why do you feel jealousy against the seed of Isaac?
Why do you feel rivalry against the seed of Jacob?

After this powerful intervention of the angels on behalf of Israel, there immedi-
ately follows the divine approbation:!”
Blessed are you who intercede for my sons.
Be praised, (you) who extol the fathers.

Ironic here is, first, the fact that the angels of all people ask God to restrain him-
self from hostility, jealousy, and rivalry toward Israel. Normally (that is, in the
classical midrash as well as in the Sar ha-Torah piece of Hekhalot Rabbati) it is
the angels who feel jealousy and rivalry toward Israel and whom God outmaneu-
vers in his undisguised love for his people.!°? Second, and more important, it is
ironic that the angels and the holy creatures, whose fervent courtship God has
only lately brusquely rejected in favor of Israel, now act as selfless mediators
between God and his people — just as if nothing had ever happened between them
and their God. In other words, in the present context, they are the most unlikely
of mediators between God and Israel — but this, I posit, is precisely the punch
line of our section in Hekhalot Rabbati. The angels, including the holy creatures,
are indeed loved by God, yet there is no one in the entire universe that God loves

101 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 190f.

102 Thid., §.192.
103 Classical midrash: Schafer, Rivalitdt; Sar ha-Torah: Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur,
§§ 281-306.
268 Chapter 8

more than Israel. Despite the fact that nobody can see God, neither angels nor
human beings, when Israel utters the Qedushah in their daily prayers, both God
and Israel look each other directly in the eyes (§ 163), and the Merkavah mystic
observes God kissing and caressing Jacob’s face (§ 164) — in order to report this
vision to his fellow Jews upon his return to earth. Ultimately, even the angels
have to acknowledge Israel’s superiority, and, one might add, this ultimate ac-
knowledgment is the main reason why God loves them. Hence, it is only logical
that God, toward the end of this large microform, is called the Lord, the God of
Israel (§ 195) and that the section, harking back to § 188, concludes with the
Trishagion (uttered by three classes of angels) and the response from Ezek. 3:12
(uttered by the ofannim and the holy creatures).!

6. The Ascent Accounts

Sections 198-268 contain what has been called the havurah account, actually a
number of loosely conjoined accounts describing the particular circumstances
of the Merkavah mystic’s ascent(s) to heaven. The main protagonists are R.
Ishmael b. Elisha (the well-known hero of Hekhalot literature) along with his
teacher, R. Nehunya b. Haqanah, as well as the enigmatic “company” (havurah)
of those who are instructed in the mysteries of the ascent. The first paragraph
of our section (§ 198) explicitly connects it, through R. Nehunya b. Haqanah,
with the Narrative of the Ten Martyrs (§§ 107-121). This connection is clearly
superficial and made by an editor who took the persecution of Israel’s famous
rabbis as a pretext for Nehunya b. Haqanah’s attempt to reveal the “mystery of
the world,” that is, initiation into the mysteries of the yoredei merkavah. More
precisely, the text now explains the specifics of what the Merkavah mystic sees
during his ascent, of who is worthy of undertaking it, and of how he carries out
the ascent.!
As to the what, we learn that it is the goal of the mystic’s ascent “to behold the
king and his throne (/e-histakkel be-melekh we-kiss’o), his majesty (hadaro), and
his beauty (yofvo),” which refers back to the very beginning of Hekhalot Rabbati
(§ 81) but gives more details: to behold the vision of the Merkavah (§ 81) means
now to see God, in all his majesty and beauty, seated on his throne. Moreover, it
includes not only seeing the holy creatures, the keruvim, and the ofannim (hardly
unexpected after what we have heard in the meantime about the bearers of the
throne) but also the “awesome hashmal” (known from Ezekiel) and the rivers of
fire (known from Daniel) that surround the throne with their flames and smoke

'4 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 197, only in Ms. New York 8128.
405 These specifics are all subsumed under the heading middah (lit. “measure, measure-
ment”), which clearly means here something along the lines of “nature, character/characteris-
tic, quality/qualification,” or even “condition.” See Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 198,
19952015 234:
 The Merkavah Mystics 269

covering all the chambers of the palace of the highest heaven. Not least, we learn
that God is accompanied by a high angel who is called Suriyah and bears the
epithet “Prince of the [divine] Countenance” (sar ha-panim).
This is quite a program for the mystic — but who now is worthy of the ex-
ercise? First we are told that the Merkavah mystic is like someone (a man, a
human being [adam]) “who has a ladder in his house upon which he ascends
and descends, and there is no creature that can hinder him.”! In other words,
ascending and descending seems to be rather effortless, like going up and down
a ladder in one’s house. This ladder is described in more detail in § 201, where it
is said that “one end of it rests upon the earth and the other end rests against the
right foot of the throne of glory.” Hence, the ladder in the mystic’s house leads
him directly to the throne of glory in the highest heaven. The second condition
increases this impression of an easy job awaiting the Merkavah mystic — any-
body, the text continues, is entitled to undertake the ascent!
who is innocent and free from
idolatry,
incest,
bloodshed,
slander,
false oaths,
desecration of the (divine) name,
impudence,
and senseless hostility,
and who observes all the positive and negative commandments.

Since God himself and his servant, the Prince of the Countenance, despise these
bad qualities (§ 200),'°* someone who is not free of any of them is not entitled to
undertake the heavenly journey. One would expect that the requirement of being
unsullied by these negative qualities should be relatively easy to fulfill, all the
more so as four of them (idolatry, incest, bloodshed, and desecration of the di-
vine name) are part of the seven Noachide Laws, the minimal ethical demands
expected of all people, also and especially of non-Jews.'*” But the requirements

106 Thid., § 199, following Mss. Munich 22, Vatican 228, and Budapest 238.
107 Tbid.
108 They are counted as eight in Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 200 and 201, the last
condition (“who observes all the positive and negative commandments”) obviously serving as
asummary of all the good requisites.
109 Tdolatry, incest, and bloodshed are the three Noachide Laws often mentioned in represen-
tation of all seven; cf. Max Kadushin, “Introduction to Rabbinic Ethics,” in Menahem Haran,
ed., Yehezkel Kaufmann Jubilee Volume: Studies in Bible and Jewish Religion Dedicated to
Yehezkel Kaufmann on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1960),
p. 96. On their use in the Hekhalot literature, see Nick A. van Uchelen, “Ethical Terminology
in Heykhalot-Texts,” in Jan W. van Henten et al., eds., Tradition and Re-interpretation in Jew-
ish and Early Christian Literature: Essays in Honour of Jiirgen C.H. Lebram (Leiden: Brill,
1986), pp. 253 ff.
270 Chapter 8

turn out to be not at all easy, and R. Ishmael, desperate in his fear that no human
being will be able to meet them, asks R. Nehunya b. Haqanah for help, that is,
to be more specific about who can undertake the journey and what precisely is
required of him. Nehunya b. Haqanah follows his request and asks him to con-
vene the members of the havurah, that distinguished society of fellows dealing
with the mysteries of the Torah: they are the chosen ones to whom he will reveal
all the mysteries of the cosmos and, most important, the “path of the ladder” that
leads to the seventh heaven (§ 201). Apparently, this path is more complicated
than it at first seemed.
R. Ishmael convenes the havurah, which is anachronistically called the greater
and the lesser Sanhedrin and is located “at the third large entrance that is in the
house of the Lord” — clearly referring to the Temple. Moreover, R. Ishmael is
portrayed as sitting “upon a bench of pure marble that Elisha, my father, gave me
from my mother’s property that she had transferred to him in her dowry” (§ 202).
This is a remarkable pseudohistorical setting, the main elements of which are the
location in the Temple, the bench of pure marble, and the explicit genealogy of
R. Ishmael. The allusion to the Temple serves as a hint that the mystic’s ascent
to the seventh heaven is nothing less than an ascent to the heavenly Temple: R.
Ishmael sits on a bench at the entrance to the Temple gate to receive instruction,
together with the rabbinic fellowship, from R. Nehunya b. Haqanah; accord-
ingly, the (successful) mystic will be able to enter the seventh heaven, which is
the heavenly Temple. And indeed, in § 233 we learn that the angel Dumiel sits at
the entrance to the sixth palace on a “bench of pure stone” and invites the wor-
thy mystic to sit down next to him. The mystic who has successfully made it to
this point will be immediately escorted into the seventh palace. And finally, the
explicit mention of R. Ishmael’s genealogy reinforces the link with the Temple:
according to the Tosefta, R. Ishmael’s father was a high priest and R. Ishmael
consequently of high priestly lineage;'!® the Bavli even transmits a Baraitha
according to which R. Ishmael officiated as high priest in the innermost Sanc-
tuary.''! Historically dubious as these puzzling pieces of information are, there
can be no doubt that the editor(s) of Hekhalot Rabbati sought to make precisely
this connection between the earthly and heavenly Temples,!!? for the ascent of
the Merkavah mystic through the seven palaces/heavens imitates, or rather re-
plays, the high priest’s entering the Temple, from the vestibule through the nave
to the Holy of Holies.

"0 +t Hallah 1:10.

: ‘e b Berakhot 7a; almost verbatim in Hekhalot Rabbati, Synopse zur
Hekhalot-Literatur,
"2 See the detailed analysis in Boustan, From Martyr to Mystic, pp.
102 ff., 252 ff.
 The Merkavah Mystics 5a|

The composition of the havurah fellowship is no less anachronistic than the

setting of the scene in the Temple; it consists of a list of nine!!3 names that are
chronologically ill-fitting but almost identical with the names of the ten mar-
tyrs.''* This latter connection, obviously, is the reason for the composition of
the havurah and certainly not an attempt to provide historically accurate infor-
mation. The same is true, I posit; for the peculiar makeup of the havurah during
R. Nehunya b. Haganah’s instruction, one of the major scenes preserved in the
Hekhalot literature. We are told (§ 203) that the havurah consists of an inner and
outer circle: the inner circle includes only the ten “rabbis” listed previously, and
the outer circle involves a much larger audience, referred to as “the entire multi-
tude of the fellows”; whereas the former are allowed to sit down, together with
R. Nehunya b. Haqanah, the latter must remain on their feet “for they saw pans
of fire'!> and torches of light that separated them from us.” Taking into consid-
eration the deliberately pseudohistorical setting of the whole instruction scene,
I find it pointless to try to discover here some kind of historical reality, lurking
behind this description, of the true Merkavah mystics and their original practices
(for example, of an inner circle of initiates and an outer one of more loosely af-
filiated fellows).'!® The scene is a fiction, and the editor is aware of it.
The following ascent account — more precisely, an ascent account that is re-
peatedly interrupted by other material and most likely composed of fragments of
diverse literary origin — is presented as the contents of R. Nehunya b. Haqanah’s
instruction to the havurah:!!”
R. Nehunya ben Haganah sat and expounded!'® before them all the matters
pertaining to the Merkavah,
descent and ascent (yveridah we- ‘aliyyah),
how one who descends should descend
and how one who ascends should ascend.

The first explicit answer to the how of the ascent (§ 204) is quite surprising in
light of the carefully arranged setting of the havurah at the Temple gate. To begin
with, R. Nehunya b. Haganah does not say to the fellows of the havurah, as we
might expect: If one of you, my dear friends, attempts to undertake the descent,
do such and such; rather, he says: “if a person (literally: a man, a human being
[adam]) wishes to descend to the Merkavah ...” — evidently referring back to the

113 Of course, R. Ishmael has to be added here, so that altogether they are ten fellows in
number.
114 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 109, Mss. New York 8 128 and Vatican 228.
15 For the difficult reading according to the mansucripts, see Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-
Literatur, vol. 2, p. 148, n. 18. in
16 Ag has been suggested by, e.g., Gruenwald, Apocalyptic and Merkavah Mysticism,
p. 162.
17 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 203.
118 Lit. “ordered, arranged” (mesadder).
79 Chapter &

more neutral “man” with the ladder in his house (§ 199). Here is clear evidence
that this instruction originally had nothing to do with the havurah setting but was
combined with it by the editor. Furthermore, the instructor tells the adept, quite
surprisingly, to call Suriyah, the Prince of the Countenance (of whom we have
heard already), and to adjure him 112 times with several versions of the divine
name, most prominent among them Tutrusiay (with variations).!!? So, what we
learn here is something completely new, namely, that the ascent is achieved by
an adjuration (the technical term used is /e-hashbia ‘— “to adjure, to conjure up”).
To be sure, the adjuration is an important part of the Hekhalot literature — its
main purpose being to bring an angel down to earth so as to force him, by magi-
cal means, to do the will of the adept — but we would not expect it as a major
lever, as it were, in the Merkavah mystic’s successful ascent. I have argued else-
where that the prominent place it takes at the very beginning of Hekhalot Rab-
bati’s ascent account makes it virtually impossible to distinguish neatly between
the “heavenly journey” as one (and, as many scholars want it, early) layer of the
Hekhalot literature and the “‘adjuration” as another (and later, presumably even
degenerate) layer.'”° The ascent and the adjuration are intrinsically interlinked,
and it makes little sense to separate them neatly and assign them to clearly dis-
tinguishable layers that belong to different stages of development within the
Hekhalot literature.
The following paragraph (§ 205) emphasizes the magical character of this sec-
ond ascent account. It is extremely important, we are told, that the adept counts
112 times when uttering the divine names, for if he leaves out even one name or
adds another, “his blood will be on his head” (Jos. 2:19), that is, he will imme-
diately die. Magic works only if executed properly. Accordingly, the successful
mystic not only descends to the Merkavah, as might be expected, but he also “has
power over the Merkavah (sholet ba-merkavah).” This again is unheard of, since
nothing we have been told so far about the Merkavah mystic and the havurah has
prepared us for such an unabashed wish for power over the Merkavah.
Paragraphs 206-218 report another important detail for a successful ascent:
the names of the guardian angels at the entrances of the first six palaces. We
are told that God (again called by the name Tutrusiay) sits within seven palaces
(hekhalot), “a chamber (heder) within a chamber (heder),” and that each palace
is guarded by eight angels, four to each side of the entrance door (§ 206). How
precisely God’s location is to be understood — in each of the seven palaces, or
'9 Presumably derived from Greek fetras (“four”) and alluding to the four-letter-name of
God, the Tetragrammaton.
'20 Peter Schafer, “Merkavah Mysticism and Magic,” in Peter Schafer and Joseph Dan, eds.,
Gershom Scholem s Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism: 50 Years After. Proceedings of the Sixth
International Conference on the History of Jewish Mysticism (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul
Siebeck], 1993), pp. 64 ff. On the adjuration in general, see Rebecca M. Lesses, Ritual Practices
to Gain Power: Angels, Incantations, and Revelation in Early Jewish Mysticism (Harrisburg,
PA: Trinity Press International, 1998).
 The Merkavah Mystics 273

merely in the seventh palace? — remains open, but the most likely explanation
seems to me that he is envisioned as sitting in the seventh palace, which is sur-
rounded, in concentric circles, by the other six palaces.!?! God’s location is not
the main issue here; rather, our editor is primarily concerned with presenting the
proper names of the guardian angels at the entrances of the palaces.!*? The edi-
tor does not even bother to tell us why these names are important, but we may
safely assume that the mystic needs to know them in order to accomplish his
ascent successfully.
Having carefully listed the names of the guardian angels of the first six pal-
aces, the editor breaks off his account of the names (skipping the names of the
guardians of the seventh palace) and instead gives a graphic description of the
guardians of the seventh palace and their huge horses, which eat glowing coals
from their mangers and drink from rivers of fire (§§ 213-215). Apparently, the
lack of knowledge of the guardians’ names and their horrible appearance does
not impede the mystic: he suffers no harm, we are informed, but “descends” in
peace (§ 216). But the climax of this (second) ascent account is rather coun-
terintuitive: the mystics “witness an awesome and terrible vision (re ’iyyah),
something that is not to be found in any palace of kings of flesh and blood,” yet
what precisely they see, we are not told. Having achieved their goal, they im-
mediately burst into praise of God (again by the name Tutrusiay), and the editor
finds it more important to add that God “is gladdened by those who descend to
the Merkavah,” that in fact he “sits and awaits each and every one from Israel”
(§ 216):
When does he descend
in wondrous pride
and special authority,
in the pride of elevation
and (in the) authority of sublimity
that rush forth before the throne of glory
three times daily in the height,
from the day the world was created and until now,
for praise.

This paragraph is almost identical to § 200, where it is said that the mystic de-
scends and gazes at the wondrous pride and other qualities that three times daily
rush forth before the throne of glory. Hence, what is actually happening here, at
the climax of the mystic’s vision, is his witnessing and apparently joining in with
the liturgy carried out in heaven. Observation of and participation in the heav-
enly liturgy seems to be the goal of the mystic’s vision — not viewing the physical
Schafer, “In
121 Like the arrangement of the seven heavens and seven netherworlds; see
Heaven as It Is in Hell,” pp. 273 ff.
122 The scribe of Ms. Oxford even notices, correctly so, that for each palace 2x 4=8 guard-
ian angels are mentioned, except for the third (only 7) and the fifth palace (9).
 274 Chapter 8

features of God. And this is also the reason why God is so happy about the ascent
of the mystic: he wants him to see what transpires in heaven around his throne,
because, we may add, he wants him to report this to the earthly community of
Israel (a subject with which we are well acquainted by now). And indeed, after
extended praise of God as king (§ 217), the text returns to God’s longing for the
Merkavah mystic (§ 218):
Tutrusiay, the Lord, the God of Israel,
desires and awaits (the mystic)
inasmuch as he awaits the redemption and the time of salvation
that is preserved for Israel
after the destruction of the second, (the) last temple:
When will he descend, he who descends to the Merkavah?
When will he see the pride of the heights?
When will he hear the ultimate salvation?
When will he see (what) no eye has (ever) seen?
When will he (again) ascend
and proclaim (this) to the seed of Abraham, his beloved?

God longs passionately and impatiently for the Merkavah mystic because he
expects him to return'?? to earth and report what he has seen to the “seed of Ab-
raham,” that is, to the community of Israel. Again, what precisely it is that he
has seen is only alluded to — “the pride of the heights,” obviously the heavenly
liturgy. More importantly, in referring twice to the redemption or salvation (God
awaits the mystic as eagerly as he awaits Israel’s redemption, and the mystic
hears the “ultimate salvation” — getz yeshu ‘ah) this paragraph clearly hints at
the possibility that in fact the events around the throne of glory — the heavenly
liturgy — together with its necessary counterpart on earth represent the salvation
or even replace the redemption in the traditional sense of the word.!24 What the
mystic sees in heaven and what he communicates to his fellow Jews on earth is
redemption: when God and Israel are united in their liturgical exchange, redemp-
tion takes place. The traditional Messiah has become superfluous, or rather, the
Merkavah mystic becomes the Messiah who announces the divine message to
the people of Israel. This result tallies with what we have observed above about
the Messiah and messianic expectation in Hekhalot Rabbati.
With § 219 begins yet another lengthy ascent account that apparently ends
with § 237; that it is a distinct literary unit becomes clear from the fact that it
presents itself in the second person singular (instead of the third person singular
in the ascent account of §§ 204-218). This account directly addresses the pro-
spective Merkavah mystic and instructs him about the seals he needs when en-

123 Note again the reverse terminology: descent for the ascent and ascent
for the descent.
124 Accordingly, God’s longing for the Merkavah mystic in the same
way as he longs for
Israel’s salvation is not just meant as a comparison; actually, he longs for
the Merkavah mystic
because the message that he will bring to the people of Israel is the salvation.
 The Merkavah Mystics 275

tering the entrances of the heavenly palaces. We have not heard about seals as a
prerequisite for a successful ascent before (further indication that the ascent ac-
count is an originally independent unit that was inserted here by an editor), and
we are also not told what kind of seals our author/editor has in mind. But since
the mystic is advised to take the seals in his hands and since names are to be writ-
ten on them, they must be some magical device, presumably a tablet or a piece
of parchment/ paper. The mystic needs two seals, one for each hand, with two
different names for each of the palaces (so altogether, one might conclude — al-
though this is never made explicit — fourteen seals). In all cases, one of the two
seals contains a name of God (beginning, at the first palace, with Tutrusiay) and
the other one a name of his Prince of the Countenance (beginning, at the first pal-
ace, with Suriyah).!*> The seal with God’s name must always be presented to the
guardian angels at the right of the entrance gate and the seal with the Prince of
the Countenance’s name to the guardian angels at the left. If the mystic presents
the correct seals, the guardian angels of the respective gates lead him to the next
gate. We are not told what happens when the seals are incorrect, but we may
safely assume that in this case the guardian angels will kill the mystic.
This procedure is described in quite stereotypical terms until the mystic has
reached the fifth palace, has shown the proper seals, and can expect to be led to
the guardian angels of the sixth palace — but in all the manuscripts of the Syn-
opse the procedure breaks off here (§ 223, end: the text literally breaks off in
the middle of a sentence) and is interrupted by some additional material about
the irrational behavior of the guardians of the sixth palace and the recall of R.
Nehunya b. Haqanah from his vision of the Merkavah in order to explain this
irrational behavior (§§ 224-228). The instruction about the seals is resumed in
§ 229, where suddenly three seals are required for the sixth palace. The guardian
angels of this sixth palace are Qatzpiel and Dumiel (with some confusion about
who is placed to the right and who to the left of the entrance gate),'7° later sup-
plemented with Gabriel (§§ 235 f.)'?7 I have argued elsewhere that the interrup-
tion of the instruction about the seals and the insertion of the additional material
in the manuscripts of the Synopse is the result of an editorial process in Hekhalot
Rabbati and that the originally unbroken sequence from the fifth to the sixth pal-

125 Both names are most prominent in Hekhalot Rabbati.

gate,
126 In Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 229, Qatzpiel is located at the right side of the
is clearly
whereas according to § 233 this place of honor is allocated to Dumiel. Since Dumiel
(and the more benevolent angel, whereas Qatzpiel — as his name, derived
superior to Qatzpiel
he is the better can-
from getzef [“anger, wrath”], says — is less inclined to let the mystic pass),
that Dumiel was
didate for the right side. § 230 tries to explain the contradiction by arguing
from his hereditary place on the right side of the gate
actually displaced by the envious Qatzpiel
but — since his name is derived from dumah (“silence”) — let this happen.
127 This is probably the reason for the three seals.
 276 Chapter 8

ace is preserved in a Genizah fragment that does not show any indication of the
additional material peculiar to the final form of Hekhalot Rabbati.!”*
The editor of Hekhalot Rabbati uses the allegedly irrational behavior of the
guardian angels of the sixth palace (they tend to let pass the mystics, who under-
take their ascent without permission, and to kill the “real” mystics, presumably
those undertaking their ascent with permission) to insert the famous and much
discussed story about R. Nehunya b. Haqanah’s recall from the Merkavah.!”? Ne-
hunya b. Haqanah has frequently been portrayed as the enigmatic master of the
mysteries of the Merkavah: when he hears about the decree against the rabbinic
martyrs, he leads R. Ishmael down to the Merkavah (§ 108); he expounds before
the members of the havurah “all the matters pertaining to the Merkavah” (§ 203)
and he instructs R. Ishmael concerning the seals to be shown to the guardian
angels at the entrance gates of the seven palaces (§ 206). Now we learn that he
is actually engaged in a vision (tzefiyyah) of the Merkavah (§ 225). How he got
there and what he sees we are not (yet) told (but see below): the members of the
havurah just want him to come back, to sit with them, and to explain to them the
strange behavior of the angels.
To achieve their goal, they prepare — in an extremely complicated proce-
dure — a piece of fine wool in such a way that it is imbued with an almost unno-
ticeable, if at all valid, impurity and inflict this doubtful impurity upon R. Ne-
hunya b. Haqanah by putting the piece of wool on his knees (§ 227). The very
fact that they are able to apply the dubious impurity to R. Nehunya, that is, to
touch him with that “impure” piece of wool, presupposes that the rabbi-mystic
was physically present among them during his vision of the Merkavah. If this
assumption is correct, the conclusion can hardly be avoided that Nehunya b.
Haqanah’s vision of the Merkavah must have been solely a mental experience,
with his body still remaining on earth, among the members of the havurah. This
is a far-reaching conclusion because nothing that we have heard so far about the
ascent of the Merkavah mystic indicates that his ascent is meant to be a purely
spiritual experience — an ascent of the soul without the body. In fact, R. Nehunya
b. Haqanah’s recall from the Merkavah is the only passage in the entire corpus
of the Hekhalot literature that suggests such a distinction between the mystic’s
body and soul.'*° To put it differently, if we did not know the story about Ne-

128 Peter Schafer, “Ein neues Hekhalot Rabbati-Fragment,” in idem, Hekhalot-St

udien,
pp. 96-103.
'29 See in particular Margarete Schliiter, “Die Erzéhlung von der Riickholung
des R. Ne-
hunya ben Haqana aus der Merkava-Schau in ihrem redaktionellen Rahmen,” FJB
10 (1982),
pp. 65-109; Lawrence H. Schiffman, “The Recall of Rabbi Nehuniah ben Ha-Qanah
from
Ecstasy in Hekhalot Rabbati,” A/S Review 1 (1976), pp. 269-281; Ubersetzung
der Hekhalot-
Literatur, vol. 2, p. 179, n. 1.
'°° With the possible exception of Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 93
(above, p. 253).
The most explicit reference to a purely spiritual experience can be found
in one of the ascent
apocalypses; see Ascension of Isaiah 6:13—16 (above, chapter 3, pp. 94
ff.), where it is explic-
 The Merkavah Mystics 21k

hunya b. Haqanah, it would not occur to us that the mystic’s ascent to heaven
is envisioned as just a spiritual experience and not as a journey involving the
entire person of the initiate, composed of body and soul. I would not, therefore,
want to place too much emphasis on the Nehunya b. Haqanah episode, keeping
in mind also that it is clearly a secondary redactional insertion in the instruction
regarding the seals.!3!
The procedure so meticulously employed by the members of the havurah turns
out to be successful (§ 227):
Immediately they dismissed him [Nehunya b. Haqanah] from (his place) be-
fore the throne of glory
(where) he had been sitting and seeing
(the) wondrous pride
and special authority,
the pride of the elevation
and the authority of sublimity
that rush forth before the throne of glory
three times day after day
in the height,
from the day the world was created and until now,
for praise.

We recall that what R. Nehunya b. Haqganah has been encountering in heaven is

precisely the experience promised to the successful Merkavah mystic (§ 200),
whom God so impatiently awaits (§§ 216, 218). Hence, the master of the mys-
teries of the Merkavah is obviously released not from a vision of God but again
from some kind of liturgical activity taking place in heaven, around the throne
of glory.
Returning now to the seals of the guardian angels of the sixth palace, Dum-
iel and Qatzpiel, the narrator continues his ascent account. When the mystic
has presented the correct seals, Qatzpiel brings a “stormy wind” (ruah se ‘arah)
to him and has him sit down “in a wagon of radiance” (qaron shel nogah) —a
clear reference to the “stormy wind ... surrounded by a radiance” in Ezek. 1:4
(§ 231). The successful adept becomes a kind of Ezekiel redivivus, but of a dif-
ferent order: whereas Ezekiel, standing on earth, sees the stormy wind and the
tadiance out of which the four creatures that carry the throne of God manifest
themselves, our mystic is seated in a radiant wagon — the text carefully avoiding
the term merkavah here, but the allusion is unmistakable — that will bring him to
God’s merkavah-throne in the seventh palace.
But the mystic has not yet reached the goal of his desire (our narrator displays
the
quite a sense of suspense in approaching the climax of his account). Dumiel,

ascended in his spirit

itly stated that Isaiah’s “spirit” is “taken up from him,” that is, that he
only and not in his body.
i31 With this observation I qualify my remark above, pp. 95, 111.
 278 Chapter 8

other guardian angel of the sixth palace, seizes a gift (doron) and walks in front
of the mystic’s wagon (§ 231). We are not (yet) told what this gift is; instead we
learn that Dumiel invites the mystic to sit down next to him on the “bench of pure
stone” at the entrance to the sixth palace. There, in an intimate scene, he explains
to him what the mystic’s prerequisites are to accomplish his ascent. The angel
uses the same word for “prerequisite” that we encountered above (§§ 198, 199,
201) — middah (‘quality’) — but now he becomes much more specific. Now it is
not just observance of the Noachide Laws, supplemented by certain other legal
requirements, but the heavy weight of the full rabbinic curriculum: knowledge
of the threefold canon of the Hebrew Bible (Torah, Prophets, and Writings), of
Mishnah and Midrash, of Halakhot and Aggadot, of everything that goes back to
Moses on Mount Sinai (§ 234). In other words, the entrance ticket to the seventh
palace is nothing less than rabbinic erudition in its fullest sense of the word. If
the mystic convinces Dumiel that he possesses these qualities, he orders Gabriel,
the scribe, to write the following on a piece of paper, which he attaches to the
mast of the mystic’s wagon (§ 235):
Such and such is the teaching of so-and-so,
such and such are his deeds.
He requests (permission) to enter before the throne of glory.

Apparently, the piece of paper summarizing Torah knowledge and the merits
of the adept is the “gift” that Dumiel gives the mystic and that guarantees his
entrance into the seventh palace. And indeed, the frightening’ guardian angels
of the seventh palace capitulate and allow the mystic to pass (§ 236). Yet this
is quite an unexpected turn — after all the instructions we have heard as to the
proper seals that the adept must present to the guardian angels of all the seven
palaces. Full knowledge of the Torah in the true rabbinic sense of the word does
the trick — and not a single word, at the highest palace/heaven with God’s throne,
about seals with the proper names of God and his Prince of the Countenance.
An editor of our text must have sensed this tension and added: “Nevertheless,
he must show them [the guardian angels] the great seal (hotam gadol) and the
awful crown (keter nora)” (followed by names of God). The “great seal” and
the “awful crown” are well-known magical tools, consisting of names of God,
that are explained in greater detail in a microform that is also part of Hekhalot
Rabbati (§§ 318-321). Clearly, the editor who added this magical tool wished
to emphasize that traditional rabbinic Torah knowledge is not enough to accom-
plish the ascent; magic is an essential part of it. In presenting, at the entrance of
the seventh and last palace, not just two seals but the “great seal” and the “awful
crown” — the epitome of magical seals — the mystic summons the most powerful
weapon at his disposal against the threatening weapons of the guardian angels.
Now he is in, or more precisely, he is led in by the angels Dumiel, Qatzpiel,
and Gabriel. They not only accompany him till the very last moment
but sing
 The Merkavah Mystics 279

before him and have him sit down together with the keruvim, the ofannim, and
the holy creatures (§ 236). As we recall, the keruvim, ofannim, and the holy
creatures are the bearers of the throne who play so prominent a role in Hekhalot
Rabbati and whom God loves so much — but, as we have seen, not as much as
Israel. So, being seated together with the bearers of God’s throne is probably
the highest honor that a human being can expect in heaven. However, what is
conspicuously missing here, at the climax of our ascent account, is God. There
is definitely no vision of God; God is not even mentioned, just his throne and
the bearers of the throne. This is remarkable enough. And what does our mys-
tic see? Our narrator, once again a master of suspense, does not leave us in the
dark — or so he pretends:
And he sees wonders and mighty deeds,
pride and greatness,
holiness and purity,
terror, humility and honesty at that hour.

After all the efforts and dangers the mystic has taken upon himself to reach his
desired goal, this is quite an anticlimax. He and we are left, at the very peak of
the ascent account, as it were, with almost nothing — unless we wish to see in the
terms used another hint of the liturgical activity taking place around the throne
of glory (which remains vague but is certainly possible).'** The editor did not
bother to be more explicit. He ends his ascent account (§ 237) with another ref-
erence to the ladder and assures us of the fact that it is ultimately the members
of the havurah — and not just hoi polloi— who have that ladder in their house and
make adequate use of it.
Not content with the outcome of this heavenly journey, our narrator continues
by adding yet another (fragment of an) ascent account (§§ 238-257). He com-
bines this new account with the previous section by pointing to the fact that R.
Nehunya b. Haqanah “forgot” to mention the proper seals for the entrance into
the seventh palace (§ 238).'*3 Nehunya b. Haqanah, rebuked by R. Ishmael for
this dangerous omission, duly makes up for it and passes on to all the members
of the havurah not the seals, as we would expect, but the names of the guardian
angels of the seventh palace. This is a clear indication that we are indeed deal-
ing with the fragment of a separate ascent account, inserted here by our editor/
narrator. So frightening are these names that the members of the havurah fall
upon their faces when R. Nehunya utters them (§ 240). The list consists of eight
names with gradually intensifying epithets and culminates in the name of the
is said
angel Anafiel (§ 241), another Prince of the Countenance, of whom it

ns of what
132 The term “pride” (ge ’awah) also appears prominently in the other descriptio
the mystic sees (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 200, 216, 218, 227).
238, but it is
133 The seals are explicitly mentioned only in Mss. Munich 22 and Budapest
clear that they are the necessary link with the preceding account.
 280 Chapter 8

that even the angels prostrate before him, with special permission from God
(§ 242). Moreover, the names differ for the mystic’s ascent and his descent:
the list for the descent (§ 243) also consists of eight names — culminating again
with Anafiel — each of which, however, is assigned a second name (so we count
altogether sixteen names), probably pointing to the fact that the descent is even
more dangerous for the mystic than the ascent. Here Anafiel is undoubtedly the
highest and most important angel holding the key to the entrance into the seventh
and final palace (§ 244). Now, having passed the guardian angels of the seventh
palace and standing in the open door to the seventh palace, the mystic encoun-
ters the horrible sight of the multiple faces, wings, and eyes of the holy creatures
(§§ 245 ff.). Their eyes in particular (counting altogether 512) frighten the poor
adept because they are wide open and directly pointed at him (§ 247). Whatever
the meaning is of these widely opened eyes,'*4 the mystic is frightened to death
and collapses into unconsciousness. But Anafiel and all the guardian angels of
the seven palaces that he has passed support him and promise him (§ 248):
Do not be afraid, son of the beloved seed,
enter and see the king in his beauty.
You shall be neither destroyed nor burned up.

And so it happens. The holy creatures cover their faces, the keruvim and ofan-
nim turn away, “and he enters and stands before the throne of glory” (§ 250).
Another climax and yet another disappointment — at least for the reader of this
ascent account. Because, after the promising announcement that the mystic will
“see the king in his beauty,” what actually happens is that he “stands before the
throne of glory,” and again no vision of God is communicated. Instead, the mys-
tic intones a hymn, and not just any hymn but the hymn that the throne of glory
sings every day (§ 251). This hymn goes on and on, focusing on God as king
(§§ 251-257). So we are again confronted with the fact that at the climax of the
mystic’s heavenly journey stands a liturgical act, no vision in the proper sense
of the word. Since the mystic’s hymn is identical with the hymn of the throne of
glory, there can be no doubt that the mystic participates in the heavenly liturgy
surrounding the throne of glory, or, more precisely, that the mystic participates in
the liturgy performed by the throne, the “creature” (as we have seen, the throne
becomes personified in Hekhalot Rabbati)'*> closest to God. And indeed, the

'34 The eyes, of course, are reminiscent of the eyes on the wheels’ rims
in Ezekiel
(Ezek. 1:18). The strange phrase that they are “ripped open (as wide) as a large sieve
of the ones
who understand/winnowers” (see Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol.
2, p22) rm a0
and 15) has been explained by Halperin as a reference to the vagina (The Faces
of the Chariot,
pp. 393-396). According to Halperin, the poor adept is actually “confronted
with five hundred
and twelve gigantic vaginas staring at him” (ibid., p. 395).
135, See above, p. 254.
 The Merkavah Mystics 281

various ascent accounts combined by our editor/narrator within the framework

of the havurah conclude with the praise of the throne of glory (§§ 267—268).!°°
In conclusion, all the fragments of ascent accounts presented in Hekhalot Rab-
bati have in common that they climax not in a vision — certainly not a vision of
the physical appearance of God — but in a liturgical performance taking place in
heaven and focusing on the immediate surroundings of the throne of glory. The
mystic, having finally reached his desired destination, becomes part of and joins
in with the liturgy of the angels. Standing directly before the throne of glory,
he comes as close to these liturgical events as one can get. Yet this closeness
is not a physical closeness to God; there is no trace whatsoever of a unio mys-
tica, a mystical union in the physical sense of the word between the mystic and
God. Rather, as I have argued elsewhere!*’ — and I still can think of no better
phrase to describe the phenomenon we are confronting here — what takes place
in heaven is a unio liturgica: a liturgical union, or communion, of the Merkavah
mystic with God.
Several of the ascent accounts and related texts make it abundantly clear that
the heavenly liturgy is not conceived as an isolated act, limited to God’s entou-
rage in heaven with the mystic participating; on the contrary, it is seen as the
combined effort of the angels in heaven and Israel on earth — with a clear prefer-
ence, on the part of God, for Israel. However much God loves the bearers of his
throne and the (personified) throne “himself,” his true and overwhelming love is
reserved for the community of Israel on earth. And this is precisely the message
that the ascent accounts, the way they are set out in an overarching narrative by
the editor of Hekhalot Rabbati, want to convey: God continues to love Israel,
even though the earthly Temple is destroyed and the Merkavah mystic must as-
cend to heaven to visit God in the innermost chambers of the seventh palace/
heaven, and it is only this love that matters. In fact, the confirmation of this love
that the Merkavah mystic brings down to his fellow Jews on earth is the ultimate
sign of salvation. Redemption in the traditional sense of the word recedes into
the background. The Merkavah mystic becomes the harbinger of redemption if
not the new Messiah himself, who brings the new Gospel of redemption to the
people of Israel.'**

describing
136 The heavenly praise of the mystic and the throne is interrupted by a fragment
(Synopse zur Hekhalot-
the test that the mystic undergoes at the entrance to the sixth (!) palace
in Hekhalot Zutarti
Literatur, §§ 258-259). It is clearly out of place here and also integrated
(§§ 407-410); see below, pp. 298 f.
137 Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, p. 165.
undergone some kind of
138 Since the material collected in the havurah account has clearly
in Hekhalot Rabbati has
Ashkenazi redaction, it may even be that the eschatology deployed
of the writings of the Hasidei
been influenced by the “presentic” eschatology so characteristic
“The Ideal of Piety of the Ashkenazi Hasidim and
Ashkenaz; on the latter, see Peter Schafer,
Its Roots in Jewish Tradition ,” JH 4 (1990), pp. 9-23.
 282 Chapter 8

The following microforms in Hekhalot Rabbati are not of particular concern

for our purpose. They consist of hymns praising God (§§ 269-276), a short piece
about Metatron (§ 277) and, above all, units presenting magical tools to militate
against the rabbinic and, even more so, the Merkavah mystical trauma of forget-
ting the Torah, that is, of forgetting the Torah curriculum that one has so labori-
ously studied. The latter begin with a piece in which Hekhalot Rabbati’s hero, R.
Nehunya b. Haqanah, adjures R. Ishmael with the “great seal and the great oath”
(§§ 278-280). Again, this scene anachronistically takes place in the Temple and
proves to be successful. It leads into the famous Sar ha-Torah (“Prince of the
Torah”) section (§§ 281—294) in which Israel, against the fierce opposition of
the angels, receives the “mystery” (raz) of mastering the Torah in its fullest and,
indeed, magical sense of the word: no longer does Israel acquire command of
the Torah through the toil and labor of arduous study but through “the name of
this seal and through the mentioning of my crown” (§ 289),!%° the well-known
magical tools.'4° The Sar ha-Torah traditions (more material about the adjuration
of the Prince of the Torah) continue with § 297 and are completed with § 306,
the end of Hekhalot Rabbati in the majority of manuscripts.

Hekhalot Zutarti

If Hekhalot Rabbati proves to be a loosely edited text kept together more or less
successfully by the attempts of an editor to integrate its most essential parts into
a narrative framework (mainly of the havurah), this lack of “literary identity”
applies all the more so to the “work” conventionally dubbed Hekhalot Zutarti
(“The Lesser Palaces”). There is even less of a unified structure in Hekhalot
Zutarti than in Hekhalot Rabbati; rather, the text presents a large number of dif-
ferent themes and literary genres that have been characterized, quite rightly, as
“something of a hodgepodge.”!4!
The macroform Hekhalot Zutarti covers the paragraphs 335-517 according to
the Synopse, but the respective manuscripts vary considerably with regard to the
microforms they include.'*? And again, Ms. New York 8128 in particular inter-
polates a great deal of distinct material'*? that is largely characterized by its pref-

'39 Some manuscripts: “awful crown.”

140 On this unit and related sections, see Schafer, Hekhalot-Studien, pp. 269-272;
idem, The
Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 49-53; Halperin, The Faces of the Chariot, pp. 429-446.
'4l Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 83.
'@2' See the chart in Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, p. XXIV, and the detailed analyses
in
Peter Schafer, “Aufbau und redaktionelle Identitat der Hekhalot Zutarti,” in
idem, Hekhalot-
Studien, pp. 50-62; idem, Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3: §§ 335-597
(Tiibingen:
J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1989), pp. VI-XXVIL
: es But also Ms. Munich 22 (yet material of a different character)
; sce the respective
charts.
 The Merkavah Mystics 283

erence for magical traditions, which allows us to speak of a “magical redaction”

of the New York manuscript.'* The macroform is preceded by Hekhalot Rab-
bati in its largest extent and followed by the much better structured macroform
Ma‘aseh Merkavah (“The Work of the Chariot”).'** As mentioned above, I tend
to believe that, in the chronological sequence of Hekhalot texts, the macroform
Hekhalot Zutarti follows Hekhalot Rabbati, not the other way around, and that,
as with Hekhalot Rabbati, a Babylonian redaction ought to be considered.'*°
The following major microforms are loosely combined in Hekhalot Zutar-
ti.'47 The macroform begins with (1) various fragments of ascent accounts
(§§ 335-374), followed by (2) extensive pieces only in Ms. New York 8128!*8
about Shi‘ur Qomah and Metatron (§§ 375-406). The third microform deals
with (3) the test to be passed by the mystic and his ascent (§§ 407-424), with
some obvious parallels in Hekhalot Rabbati, closing with paragraphs (§§ 425 f.
and 427f.), which lead into the following microforms.'*? Next comes a mi-
croform (4) about the mysterious book and the knowledge of the divine name
(§§ 489-495), and then the macroform concludes with (5) a final microform
that appears differently in the various manuscripts (§§ 498-499 in the majority
of manuscripts, but with additional material particularly again in Ms. New York
8128).'5° I will review all the respective microforms in the order in which they
appear in the manuscripts of the Synopse.

1. §§ 335-374: Ascent Accounts

The first microform of Hekhalot Zutarti begins with the programmatic paragraph
ۤ:335):>!
If you want to be singled out (/e-hityahed) in the world
so that the secrets of the world and the mysteries of wisdom
will be revealed to you,

-Sticker,
144 Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, p. XII; Herrmann and Rohrbacher
“Magische Traditionen,” pp. 101-149.
I.
145 See the overview in Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, pp. XXVII-XL
146 Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-L iteratur, vol. 3, pp. XVIf. :
Hekhalot-
147 See the overview in Hekhalot-Studien, pp. 51-54, and in Ubersetzung der
Literatur, vol. 3, pp. XVII-XXVII.
148 With parallels, however, in the other manuscripts in different contexts.
next microform
149 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 425f., lead into §§ 489-495, the
§§ 429-467, the cosmo-
in all the manuscripts (except for Ms. Munich 22), and §§ 427f. into
and Metatron pieces
logical Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit macroform, followed by Shi‘ur Qomah
(§§ 468-488), both in this connectio n only in Ms. Munich 22.
§§ 502-511 and
150 Mss. Oxford 1531 and New York 8128 share §§ 501 and 512, whereas of Seder
adds yet another piece
513-517 are preserved only in Ms. New York; Ms. Munich 22
Rabbah di-Bereshit material (§§ 518-540) .
ly, as the last para-
151 Only Ms. New York 8128 regards this paragraph, clearly erroneous
Zutarti.
graph of Hekhalot Rabbati instead of the beginning of Hekhalot
 284 Chapter 8

study this mishnah and be careful about it until the day of your passing.!
Do not (try to) understand what comes after you
and do not explore the words of your lips.
You should (try to) understand that what is in your heart
and keep silent (about it)
so that you will be worthy of the beauty (yofiyut) of the Merkavah.
Be careful with the honor!*? of your creator and do not descend to it (tered lo).
When you (however) have descended to it (varadeta Io),
do not enjoy anything of it.
Your end would be to be expelled from the world.
The honor of God (is), conceal the matter,!*4
so that you will not be expelled from the world.

This paragraph is a sophisticated rereading of the famous mishnah in m Hagi-

gah 2:1. Its very beginning, the enigmatic /e-hityahed, may well be, as I have
suggested elsewhere,’ an allusion to the Mishnah’s “One does not expound the
Merkavah to a single one (/e-yahid), unless he is wise and understands on his
own.” The meaning of the first sentence of Hekhalot Zutarti then would be: If
you wish to be the single and unique one, to whom the mysteries of wisdom (that
is, the Merkavah) can be expounded, study this mishnah, and so on. So from the
outset it becomes clear that the “mishnah” presented in Hekhalot Zutarti is in-
deed the mishnah of Hagigah 2:1 and that this “mishnah” can be taught and stud-
ied. However, it is also made crystal clear that the message Hekhalot Zutarti’s
authors/editors are about to reveal is a very delicate matter that is transmitted as
esoteric knowledge, to be kept secretly in one’s heart. Furthermore, the introduc-
tory paragraph leaves no doubt that it understands m Hagigah in the Merkavah
mystical sense as dealing with the ascent to the divine chariot: whoever follows
the appropriate precautions will be worthy of the “beauty of the Merkavah,”
which can only mean that he will indeed see God’s Merkavah. However, the
expression “beauty (vofiyut) of the Merkavah” is unique in the Hekhalot litera-
ture and obviously a modification of the common phrase! “beauty (yofi) of the
king,”!*” which is the goal of the mystic’s heavenly journey in Hekhalot Rabbati.
The Mishnah’s warning about not impairing the “honor of the creator” by gazing
at “what is above, below, before, and after” is understood here as a caveat against
descending to the Merkavah: one should not do it, but our editor seems to take

'2 From the world. An alternative translation would be “until the day of your separation,
”
in the sense of mystical-ascetic practices.
'S3 With the double meaning here of kavod as “glory” and “honor.”
'S4 Cf. Prov. 25:2. The masoretic text reads: “It is the glory/honor of God
to conceal a mat-
ter. ”

155 Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, p. 70, n. 90.

'56 Predominantly in Hekhalot Rabbati, but also in the passages in Hekhalot
Zutarti that
share traditions with Hekhalot Rabbati.
'S7 An early hint, probably, as to the secondary character of Hekhalot Zutarti.
 The Merkavah Mystics 285

it for granted that one nevertheless does it, since he admonishes the adept not to
enjoy it — meaning that he should keep his experience a secret.
What is left open in the introductory paragraph of Hekhalot Zutarti is the ques-
tion as to who exactly descends to the Merkavah and what precisely he “sees.”
This question is answered in the following sections, leaving no doubt that the
heroes of Hekhalot Zutarti are quite different from those in Hekhalot Rabbati.
Instead of R. Nehunya b. Haganah and R. Ishmael, so prominent in Hekhalot
Rabbati, we are now primarily dealing with Moses and R. Aqiva: Moses clearly
functions here as Agiva’s role model, and Aqiva functions as a role model for
the intended audience, the Merkavah mystics. Moses is perceived as the first
mystic who ascended to God — but not just, as the tradition has it, to receive the
Torah; rather, he ascended because God wished to reveal to him the names that
protect the initiates from forgetting the Torah (§ 336). We have encountered the
Merkavah mystics’ concern about forgetting the Torah in the Sar ha-Torah piece
in Hekhalot Rabbati, but now the knowledge of the divine names that, among
other things, guards against forgetting the Torah becomes the very center of the
whole enterprise. Immediately after Moses’s ascent, Aqiva is introduced as the
one who followed his example (§ 337):
This is the name that was revealed to R. Aqiva
when he beheld the work of the Merkavah (hayah mistakkel be-ma‘aseh
merkavah).
And R. Agiva descended (yarad) and taught it to his students.
He said to them:
My sons, be careful with this name,
(for) it is a great'** name,
it is a holy name,
it is a pure name.
For everyone who makes use of it!°?
in terror (and) in fear,
in purity, in holiness (and) in humility,
will multiply the seed,
be successful in all his endeavors,
and his days shall be long.
Blessed are you, Lord, who has sanctified us with his commandments
on the sanctification of the name (gedushat ha-shem).
Merkavah
Le-histakkel ba-merkavah or bitzfiyyat ha-merkavah, to behold the
heavenly journey in
or the vision of the Merkavah, has been the aim of the
particip ation
Hekhalot Rabbati, climaxing — as we have seen — in the mystic’s
almost in pass-
in the heavenly liturgy. Now the same terminology is used, but
explanation.
ing, as something that is taken for granted and needs no further
here in Ms. Oxford
158 “Great” according to Mss. Munich 22 and New York 8128, absent
153k.
159 “It” according to Mss. Munich 40, Munich 22 and Dropsie 436.
 286 Chapter 8

Accordingly, instead of beholding just the Merkavah, Aqiva beholds “the work
of the Merkavah,” which seems to allude to a well-defined discipline. Also,
quite conspicuously, Aqiva descends from the work of the Merkavah (yarad),
whereas Moses (in § 336) ascends to God (‘alah), using in both cases the “cor-
rect” rather than the reverse terminology so characteristic of Hekhalot Rabbati.
This all points to an ascent account that, in comparison with Hekhalot Rabbati,
seems to be secondary and less “original.”
The text leaves no doubt as to the outcome of Aqiva’s ascent: without bother-
ing itself with a description of what happens in heaven it informs us quite laconi-
cally that he receives, just like Moses, the great and holy name — clearly that of
God. Nor are we kept in the dark about the purpose of this name: it is meant to
be used, /e-hishtammesh in Hebrew, a word that has a distinctly magical-theur-
gical function.'® Hence, it is made crystal clear from the outset that Hekhalot
Zutarti’s ascent is inextricably linked with magic and theurgy (to be sure, we
did notice a certain overlap also in Hekhalot Rabbati,!*! but this overlap pales in
comparison with that in Hekhalot Zutarti). The proper use of God’s holy name
guarantees numerous descendants, success, and long life. This is not particularly
modest'® — and again, differs considerably from Hekhalot Rabbati. Whereas in
Hekhalot Rabbati the Merkavah mystic derives no personal advantage from his
ascent but returns to the earthly community to assure it of the perpetual love
of God, Aqiva teaches the name only to his students (a faint echo of Hekhalot
Rabbati’s havurah), who are obviously the only ones who benefit from the use
of the name. From this perspective, the final blessing about the sanctification of
the name, which alludes to the third benediction of the Eighteen Benedictions
prayer,'® seems particularly bold.
It is precisely in this context of the revelation of God’s holy name to Moses
and Aqiva that the editors of Mss. New York 8128 and Munich 22 have incor-
porated the story of the four rabbis who entered the pardes,'® so well-known
from the Tosefta, the Yerushalmi, and the Bavli.!® Since they introduce the story,

' Schafer, Hekhalot-Studien, p. 260.

161 See above, p. 272.
'62 Note that numerous descendants (lit. the multiplication of his seed) were promised
to
Abraham (Gen. 22:17).
163 Cf. m Rosh ha-Shanah 4:5.
64 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 344-346.
'6 See above, pp. 96 ff. Mss. New York 8128, Oxford 1531, and Dropsie 436 quote
just the
first sentence of the story and then break off with “etc.”; only Mss. New
York and Munich 22
bring here the full version of the story, §§ 344-345 (Ms. New York after some
additional mate-
rial about the name: §§ 340-343). Moreover, only Ms. New York incorporate
s here the water
test into the pardes story (§ 345). It is clearly out of place here and fits
in much better with the
version of §§ 407-410 in Hekhalot Zutarti (see below) and §§ 258-259
in Hekhalot Rabbati,
which is independent of the pardes story. Another version of the pardes
story is preserved in the
macroform Merkavah Rabbah (§§ 671-672), again with only Ms. New
York including the water
test and, in addition, the tradition about Elisha b. Avuyah that has
a parallel in b Hagigah 15b.
 The Merkavah Mystics 287

quite in contrast to the rabbinic sources, with “R. Aqiva said,” it becomes im-
mediately clear why our editors are so keen at quoting it here: R. Aqiva is their
hero, and he was the only one who ascended and descended in peace (§ 345).!°©
Whatever the original purpose of the four rabbis’ entrance into the pardes might
have been, for our editors it is obvious that the rabbis ascended to the Merkavah,
that only Aqiva survived this adventure unharmed, and that he received there a
revelation of the divine name.
Most of the following passages in this microform focus on the knowledge of
the divine name (combined with fragments of Aqiva’s ascent). When Aqiva as-
cended!®’ to the Merkavah, he heard a heavenly voice from beneath the throne
of glory speaking to him in Aramaic (§§ 348 f.). The message that Aqiva receives
from the heavenly voice is unmistakably inspired by the first chapter of Ezekiel.
It begins by telling him that God, even before he created heaven and earth, pro-
vided access (apparently for the worthy human being) to his raqia’‘, to enter and
exit it (of course, unharmed, as Aqiva did with the pardes). We know that raqia*
in the Hekhalot literature refers to the (seven) heavens through which the mystic
ascends to the divine throne in the seventh heaven ( ‘arevot raqia‘)and that it is
most likely derived from the “expanse” (raqia‘) in Ezek. 1:22 ff., carried by the
four creatures, on which stands God’s throne. Instead of adverting the throne,
however, our text invokes again the divine name, informing us that God “estab-
lished (his) firm name in order to shape with it the whole world” (§ 348). So it is
the name of God that is established in (or above) the ragia‘ and that is essential
for the creation of the world: presumably, the one who knows the name knows
all the mysteries of creation. And then the text continues to praise the human
being who successfully undertakes the ascent (§ 349). This chosen human being
is here called bar nasha, the Aramaic translation of how God addresses Ezekiel
immediately after his vision in Ezek. 2:1 (ben-adam): he is able to ascend on
high and to ride (/e-merkav: an allusion to the merkavah) on the wheels (galga-
lin) — another reference to Ezekiel, this time not to chapter | but to the parallel
in chapter 10, where the ofannim (Ezekiel’s technical term for the “wheels”) are
identified as ha-galgal (Ezek. 10:13). It goes without saying that he is also able
to descend unharmed, but what follows is quite striking in its details and, again,
its allusions to Ezekiel. The chosen human being is able'®
to explore the universe,
to walk upon dry ground,
to behold his [God’s] radiance (ziw),
to dwell (?)!® with his crown,

166 Again with the correct and not the reversed terminology.
167 Same.
the Genizah fragment
168 | follow Ms. Oxford 1531 but amend the text, in particular using
pp. 86-95.
T.-S. K21.95.B = G7 in Geniza-Fragmente zur Hekhalot-Literatur,
is unclear here; see Ubersetz ung der Hekhalot -Literat ur, vol. 3, p. 19, n. 11.
169 The verb
 288 Chapter 8

to be transformed (?) by his glory (yegara),!”°

to say praise,
to combine (?) letters,!7!
to say names,
to peer upwards and to peer downwards,
to know the meaning of the living
and to see the vision of the dead,
to walk in rivers of fire
and to know the lightning and the rainbow.!”2
In exploring the universe and walking on dry ground (probably an allusion to
the story of the Red Sea, where the people of Israel walked on dry ground),!”3
the adept has almost limitless powers. High up in heaven he beholds the radi-
ance, obviously of the Glory of God known from Ezekiel.'”* Whether he literally
“dwells” with the crown (that is, God’s crown) — which is without precedent,
either in Ezekiel or in the Bible as a whole — or whether the verb translated here
as “dwell” is actually a corruption of /e-hishtammesh, that is, le-hishtammesh
be-taga (“to make use of the crown),”!”> is difficult to decide.!”° The latter fits
in well with the combination of letters, the uttering of the name, and the mys-
tic’s knowledge of the living and the dead, and it reinforces the magical tone
of the passage. And finally, the “rivers of fire” are taken from the “river of fire”
in Dan. 7:10, which streams forth from before God’s throne, whereas the light-
ning and the rainbow again refer to Ezekiel (1:13 and 1:28). Taken altogether,
there can be no doubt that the passage presents a patchwork of biblical allu-
sions, with a clear preference for Ezekiel. The mystic portrayed here is the new
Ezekiel, who, unlike his predecessor, ascends to heaven and receives there his
limitless magical-theurgical power.'’’ This power, to be sure, is exclusively for
him, not for everybody, and is certainly not meant to be bestowed upon all of
Israel. Again, the highly individualistic and elitist attitude of our author/editor
must be emphasized.
The next section (§§ 350 ff.) poses, uniquely in Hekhalot Zutarti and in the
Hekhalot literature as a whole, the question of who can see God, or rather
whether it is possible to see God at all. The answer is given (this is again highly
unusual in the Hekhalot literature) in a sequence of three Bible verses. As I

' G7: “to investigate his glory.”

'7l See Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, p. 20, n. 16.
'? Wording “the rainbow” only in Ms. Munich 22 and G7.
13 Ex, 14:22: 15:19.
=
™ The text alludes here to the rabbinic concept of the “radiance of the Shekhinah”
(ziw ha-
shekhinah) and to the “glory” of God, mentioned two lines down: yeqara
is the Aramaic equiva-
lent of the Hebrew kavod, used in Ezekiel (1:28), the human figure
sitting on the throne.
'7> A magical reinterpretation of m Avot 1:13; see below, p. 292.
'76 See Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, pl9yn:.12:
'7 This has been noticed already by Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism,
pp. 77 ff.
 The Merkavah Mystics 289

have argued elsewhere,!”* the first verse (Ex. 33:20) offers the thesis: “For man
(adam) may not see me and live,” followed by the antithesis (Deut. 5:21): “For
man (adam) may live though God has spoken to him.” The thesis is taken from
Moses’s encounter with God, in which Moses asks God to see his Glory (kavod)
and God answers that Moses cannot see his face because “man may not see me
and live.” The antithesis refers to. the revelation of the Torah on the mountain,
with the people of Israel seeing the Glory (kavod) of God and hearing his voice
out of the fire (Deut. 5:21); the quoted part of the verse is the people’s conclu-
sion: “we have seen this day that man may (indeed) live though God has spoken
to him” (ibid.). So one can see and hear God — but the people are nevertheless
afraid that they might die (verse 23: “For what mortal ever heard the voice of
the living God speak out of the fire,!” as we did, and lived?”) and ask Moses
to listen alone to God and to tell them what he has heard. And then comes the
synthesis, so to speak, with a verse from Isaiah: “I saw my Lord seated upon a
high and lofty throne [and the skirts of his robe filled the Temple]” (Isa. 6:1).
Hence, there are visionaries who can see God on his throne: the prophet Isaiah
saw him in the earthly Temple and, we might add, the Merkavah mystic is able
to see him on his throne in the heavenly Temple. To be sure, not everybody can
see him, but certain chosen individuals are granted a vision without the usual
unfortunate consequences — that is, without dying.
Having answered his question affirmatively, we would expect our author /edi-
tor to tell us what it is that the chosen individual sees. But instead of providing a
description of God’s appearance on the throne, the text continues (§ 351): “What
is his name?” followed by a long list of names (mainly nomina barbara). So
again, the name of God is the crucial revelation for the Merkavah mystic, not the
vision of God, or, to put it differently, the vision of God consists of the commu-
nication of his names. Nor does the participation in the heavenly liturgy — which
we discovered to be the main message in Hekhalot Rabbati — play any significant
role here. Our microform in Hekhalot Zutarti is conspicuously oblivious if not
opposed to Hekhalot Rabbati’s major concern.
Yet our editor insists. We do know, he continues (§ 352), that certain groups
of people, not just chosen individuals, see God. The “highest holy ones,” he be-
gins his list, see him “like the appearance of sparks (bazaq).” The “highest holy
1:14,
ones,” of course, are the angels, but what they see actually refers to Ezek.
that they “darted to and fro with the appear-
where it is said of the holy creatures
ance of sparks.”!®° So in Ezekiel the appearance is the appearance of the holy
only the
creatures, whereas in Hekhalot Zutarti it is God as seen by the angels (or
second category is the prophets:
holy creatures?) who looks like “sparks.” The

178 Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 57f. yam
repeated.
179 They drop the seeing here, as if this is too dangerous to be even
order to distinguish it
180 In my chapter on Ezekiel 1 have translated bazag as “sparks” in
from barag, “lightning.”
 290 Chapter 8

they, he argues, see God in a dream vision, “like a man (adam) who sees a vision
of the night (hezyon laylah).” This is common biblical material.'*' The prophets
are followed by the kings, but what they see remains unclear in all the manu-
scripts. Finally our heroes, R. Aqiva and Moses, reappear (in this sequence):
But Rabbi Agiva!® said:
He is, so to speak (kivyakhol), like us,'*
but he is greater than everything,
and this is his glory (kavod)
that is concealed from us.'*4
Moses says to them, to these ones and those ones: 185

Do not investigate your words,

but rather he [God] should be blessed at his place.
Therefore it is said: Blessed be the glory of the Lord from his place
(Ezek. 3:12).

With this statement, Aqiva,'** the human rabbi, goes much farther than any of
his predecessors. He is the only one who knows that God looks like us, like
human beings.'8? We know this, of course, from Ezekiel (1:26), where God is
described as a “figure with the appearance of a human being (adam),” yet Aqiva
does not gain this knowledge from expounding Ezekiel but, as the context in
Hekhalot Zutarti clearly shows, from the experience of his ascent. And Aqiva
even goes a decisive step further than Ezekiel in revealing that God is “greater
than everything,” that is, of enormous dimensions. Scholem is certainly right in
suggesting that Aqiva refers here to what is known as the Shi‘ur Qomah tradi-
tion, the knowledge of the measures of the divine body,'®* but this tradition is
only alluded to and is by no means the essence of Hekhalot Zutarti’s message.!*9
Hekhalot Zutarti’s Aqiva, as the context of his dictum shows, is much less con-
cerned with the vision of God as such than it is with the revelation of the divine
names and how this knowledge can be used.!”

81 See Job 33:15, and cf. Isa. 29:7; Dan. 8:1f.

'82 “Aqiva” according to Ms. New York 8128, absent here in the other manuscripts.
183 Or “as we are.”
'84 Or “that he is concealed from us.”
'®> To the angels, prophets, kings, and R. Aqiva.
'8¢ Although Aqiva is mentioned explicitly only in Ms. New York, it makes much
sense
2 argue that the anonymous “Rabbi” in the other manuscripts is indeed no one
other than
qiva.
'87 Duly qualified, in the classical rabbinic manner, by kivyakhol; see on this term
Bacher,
Exegetische Terminologie, vol. 1, pp. 72 f.
188 Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 79.
ni It appears only in the section Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 375-406,
in passages
unique to Ms. Mew York 8128; but see also § 419.
'0 One could even argue that the essence of the Shi‘ur Qomah tradition
is the knowledge
of the names of God’s limbs and not so much their vision.
 The Merkavah Mystics 291

In fact, even Aqiva immediately retracts at least part of his bold declaration
when he adds that God’s glory is actually concealed from us. This reservation is
confirmed by Moses, who emphasizes that, whatever we may know about God,
what really matters is his praise in the daily liturgy — even if we do not know
where exactly he is or what he looks like.'?! Moreover, the text does not continue
with Aqiva’s discovery but rather, with how the angels, or indeed the holy crea-
tures, see God: we have heard that they see him like sparks, and now we are told
that from their appearance we can infer God’s appearance (§§ 353 ff.). Since the
holy creatures appear like sparks (bazaq) and the rainbow (qeshet), they are the
true reflection of God’s appearance; in looking at them we may get some idea
of what God himself looks like. Accordingly, the text gives us a comprehensive
_ description of the holy creatures, followed by the makeup of the heavenly ge-
ography (§ 356) — from the hoofs of the holy creatures to the divine throne cov-
ered by a cloud and ultimately concealed from our probing eyes.!*? The throne
is surrounded by myriads of angels; above them hover thunder and lightning,
and finally, clearly the climax of the long passage, “the letters of his name in!**
the radiance of the rainbow (gashta) in the cloud.” This is but another reference
to Ezekiel (1:28), concentrating, as it were, Ezekiel’s appearance of God’s glory
in the letters of his name.
Nevertheless, the author/editor of our text refuses to give up and makes yet
another attempt to get closer to God’s appearance. We are told that God’s feet
rest on all the components the heavenly inventory has to offer, but ultimately “on
the face of the human being, on the wings of the eagle, on the claws of the lion,
and on the horns of the bull,” that is, on the holy creatures. And then follows the
enigmatic sentence (which is more or less corrupt in all manuscripts): “the ex-
pression of the physiognomy of his countenance (sever gelaster panaw) is like
the appearance of the wind and like' the creation of the soul that no creature
can recognize.””!°> Whatever the precise meaning of this passage — apparently it
follows the same strategy of give-and-take that we have observed in most parts
of this long section initiated by Aqiva’s revelation — it clearly conveys the mes-
sage that in the end, we know nothing reliable about God’s appearance — at least
nothing that can be put in words and communicated. It is not by coincidence
and in
that the passage ends with the eulogy: “Blessed be his name in eternity

his place,” in the Ezek-

191 This is the traditional rabbinic interpretation of mimqomo, “from 4
101); Pirqei de-Rabbi Eliezer, ch.
iel verse; see, e.g., Sifre Numbers, § 103 (ed. Horovitz, p.
(ed. Warsaw 1851/52, reprint Jerusalem 1962/63, fol. 11b).
192 Using Job 26:9 as a proof-text.
193 Some manuscripts “like.”
New York 8128: “and as the
194 Most manuscripts: “and at the creation of the soul”; Ms.
soul.” f
form of the
in the manuscripts, see Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur,
195 On the variant readings
vol. 3, p. 33 with n. 76.
292 Chapter 8

all eternity” — and God’s name is again the focus of most of the subsequent sec-
tions in our microform.
Paragraph 357 begins with another eulogy of the name and, more impor-
tant, offers a concrete list of names (transmitted by Balaam, Moses, the angel
of death, David, and Solomon)!”° to be used in an adjuration, followed by ever
more lists of nomina barbara (§§ 358 f.). However, we are again reminded that
the use and distribution of the name are not for everybody but solely for those
chosen few of Aqiva’s disciples (§ 360):
He used to say:
Who spreads (his) name, loses his name,
and who does not study, deserves death.
Who makes use of the crown, vanishes.
Who does not know Qintamisa, shall be put to death,
and who knows Qintamisa, will be desired in the world to come.

“He,” of course, is R. Aqiva, and his warning is directed against the unwarranted
and uncontrolled transmission of the name. Aqiva’s warning is a deliberate re-
modeling of Hillel’s famous dictum in m Avot 1:13: “Who spreads his name,
loses his name, and who does not add, perishes. Who does not study, deserves
death, and who makes use of the crown, vanishes.”!%’ In its new guise Hillel’s
dictum now refers not to the ambitious man who spreads his own name but
to Aqiva’s students, who spread the knowledge of God’s name. Furthermore,
whereas “using the crown” in Hillel’s dictum denotes improper use of Torah
knowledge, now the phrase refers to the improper use of the “crown” (that is,
God’s names) in its magical sense of the word.!9* Finally, the knowledge of one
particular name seems.crucial: we do not know what Qintamisa means,!% but
no doubt the knowledge or ignorance of this particular name decides the mys-
tic’s life or death. .
After a section that is identical to the highly magical work Havdalah de-Rabbi
Aqiva and that reemphasizes the importance of God’s names (§§ 362—365),20
we learn of yet another ascent of R. Aqiva (§ 366):

'96 With a reference to the fact that the explanation of God’s ineffable name is in the Greek
language (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 357 end).
'97 Our text leaves out “and who does not add, perishes” and instead adds the last passage
about Qintamisa.
'°8 Such as the keter nora (“awful crown”) in Hekhalot Rabbati (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Li-
teratur, §§ 236 and 318); see above, p. 278. As Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 80,
puts it: “it
is perfectly clear that the [Hillel’s] statement has acquired a new theurgical meaning.”
'° Scholem, following a suggestion made by Shaul Lieberman, explains the word
as a deri-
vation from the Greek word kainotomésai/kainotomein, “to introduce something new”
(Jewish
Gnosticism, pp. 80f.).
200 The section is preserved in all the manuscripts of the Synopse zur Hekhalot-
Literatur;
on the relationship between Hekhalot Zutarti and Havdalah de-Rabbi Aqiva,
see Ubersetzung
der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, p. 43, n. 1.
 The Merkavah Mystics 293

R. Agqiva said:
I beheld and saw the whole universe,
and I have perceived it as it is.
I ascended in a wagon of fire
and contemplated the palaces of hail,
and I found ... (?) sitting on ... (?)

Despite the obvious parallel to Hekhalot Rabbati, where the adept enters the
seventh palace in a wagon,””' the setting and the outcome of Aqiva’s ascent here
are remarkably different: Aqiva first of all sees the universe, that is, the makeup
of the cosmos. Second, there are no seven palaces here, as in Hekhalot Rabbati;
instead he encounters “palaces of hail” (a phrase unique not only in Hekhalot
Zutarti but in the entire Hekhalot corpus).”°” And finally, Agiva does see some-
~ thing, presumably God, sitting on his throne — the name of God and of the object
he is sitting on are incomprehensible in all the manuscripts — but, most conspicu-
ously, there follows neither a description of God nor, as in Hekhalot Rabbati, a
description of the mystic’s joining in with the heavenly liturgy; rather, we are
again bombarded with a list of names. There could be no better proof of the true
focus of Hekhalot Zutarti.
The theurgical use of these names, propagated so forcefully by Hekhalot
Zutarti, is (literally) sealed in a magical formula that reemphasizes the cosmic
dimension of Agiva’s ascent (§ 367):
This is the spell (isra) and the seal (hatma)
by which one binds the earth
and by which one binds the heavens.
The earth flees before it
and the universe trembles before it.
It opens the mouth of the sea
and closes the hooks?" of the firmament.7
It opens heavens and floods the universe;
it uproots the earth and mixes up” the universe.

236: just a
201 Hekhalot Rabbati, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 231, 232, 235,
wagon” (qaron shel nogah). But our “wagon of
“wagon,” only in § 231 explicitly “a radiant
of radiance”
fire” (nura) is by no means simply the Aramaic translation of the Hebrew “‘wagon
radiance” (nogah)
(nogah), as Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 82, maintains. The “wagon of
the “wagon of fire”
in Hekhalot Rabbati is a deliberate reference to Ezek. 1:4, which is lost in
(nura) in Hekhalot Zutarti.
in heaven (1 En.
202 Tt reminds us of the wall and the house of hailstones that Enoch sees
“hailston es” (avnei barad) are also common in the Hekhalot literature (see the
14), although
concordance, s. v. even).
203 Ms. New York 8128: “the waters of the firmament.”
word (Gen. 1) and not
204 The word raqia‘ is here “firmament” in the biblical sense of the
the technical term for the seven heavens.
205 Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 83, translates “confuses.”
 294 Chapter 8

The spell and the seal that Aqiva receives in heaven give him (and his students)
unlimited power over the universe in its fullest cosmic dimension. What we en-
counter here is a complete reversal of the ascent accounts described in Hekhalot
Rabbati: whereas the mystic in Hekhalot Rabbati needs the proper set of seals,
with the divine name(s) engraved on them, in order to survive his ascent, in
Hekhalot Zutarti the mystic brings back with him the ultimate and most potent
seal (with the divine names), which gives him control over heaven and earth.
Most manuscripts conclude this first microform of Hekhalot Zutarti with
yet another set of names (§§ 367, end, and 368, 373-374): the names of the
rainbow,2"° the sword,””” the four feet of the divine throne, the divine throne
itself, and finally the fourteen letters that “stand opposite the crown.””°8 Only
Ms. New York incorporates here (beginning with §§ 367 and 368, and then
§§ 369-372) some additional material: some brief Shi‘ur Qomah fragments
(§ 367), but mainly descriptions of the appearance of the holy creatures, of the
throne of glory, and finally of God sitting on his throne (§ 372). The latter is in-
spired by Ezekiel (God’s glory is “like hashmal’: Ez. 1:4, 26) and climaxes in
God’s crown with the “ineffable name” on it — again proof that it is God’s name
or names that occupy the editor of our microform, much more so than the actual
description of his physical dimensions.*!°

2. §§ 375-406: Metatron

This microform contains material that has been added here by the redactor of
Ms. New York 8128 (some of which appears at different places in other manu-
scripts, mainly outside of Hekhalot Zutarti).?"! Its focus is Metatron as the high-
est angel, the names of God, and, not least, Metatron’s names (since he comes
very close to God). The redaction of Ms. New York was obviously systematic
and purposeful: we are familiar with the editor’s emphasis on the magical use
of the name(s), but the enormous role he assigns Metatron comes as a surprise,
certainly in the context of Hekhalot Zutarti.2!2 There can be little doubt that the
patchwork of texts presented in this microform is the work of the later editor of

206 Again alluding to Ezekiel.

207 Alluding to Harba de-Moshe?
208 Whatever the latter phrase means. The microform concludes with a clear division marker:
a benediction.
209 On the redactional details, see Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, p. 61,
n. 9.
We also need to take into consideration that the redactor of Ms. New York has a tendency
to
sree quite diverse material, not least from the circles of the Hasidei Ashkenaz;
see ibid.,
p. 3
oeine Scholem, who overemphasizes the Shi‘ur Qomah context (Jewish
Gnosticism,
Pp. /7, 59).
211 See Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, pp. XII f., XXI ff., and
71 ff.
212 The major Metatron text in the Hekhalot literature is, of course, 3
Enoch, and our editor
seems to quote 3 Enoch at least in one case (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur
, §§ 387f.).
 The Merkavah Mystics 295

the New York manuscript and hence a secondary stage in the development of the
macroform Hekhalot Zutarti.*!> I will restrict myself to following only the major
movements of the microform.
As to be expected, the microform begins with R. Aqiva. After a rather frag-
mentary introductory paragraph (§ 375),?!4 it starts with a brief Shi‘ur Qomah
text, labeling Metatron the “beloved servant” and the “Great Prince of the tes-
timony” who passes on to Aqiva the secrets of the measurement of the divine
limbs (§ 376). This is the first “real” Shi‘ur Qomah piece in Hekhalot Zutarti,
detailing the dimensions (in parasangs) of God’s right and left eye, his throne,
the distance between his right and left arm as well as between his right and left
eyeball, his skull, and the diadem on his head. As I mentioned above, it is unique
in this context in Ms. New York 8128, but Mss. Oxford 1531, Munich 40, and
Munich 22 transmit certain passages of it in very distinct contexts (namely,
following in all three manuscripts, quite remarkably, the macroform of Seder
Rabbah di-Bereshit).?!5 Hence, the incorporation of Shi‘ur Qomah in Hekhalot
Zutarti is a clear result of the editorial process carried out by the redactor of
Ms. New York2!¢ and cannot be regarded as a cornerstone of Hekhalot Zutarti’s
message.
Not surprisingly, the microform continues with the names of God (§ 376) and
the assurance that everybody who knows these names will have a share in the
world to come and will be saved from all kinds of trials (§ 377). Interestingly
enough, this promise changes suddenly, in the middle of the paragraph, from the
third to the first person, revealing the immediate magical purpose of the formula,
so typical of magical texts meant to be practiced by everybody who knows them
(and not so much of our macroform Hekhalot Zutarti). This practical application
of the name is followed by a long litany praising God as king (§§ 378-383). If
we remember that precisely such praise was the climax of the Merkavah mystic’s
ascent in Hekhalot Rabbati,2!” we note again the shift taking place in Hekhalot
Zutarti: from the heavenly liturgy as the climax of the mystic’s “vision” to the
revelation of God’s names culminating in (almost the same) liturgical praise. It
of
213 ‘This does not mean that the microform can simply be excluded from an edition
g der He-
Hekhalot Zutarti, as was the case in Rachel Elior’s edition; on this, see Ubersetzun
khalot-Liter atur, vol. 3, p. 71, n. 6.
the [Holy]
214 Tt remains unclear what the author means by “Princes of the countenance of
but this passage apparently served as a transition to the Prince of the Countenance
Creatures,”
par excellence, Metatron.
Rabbah di-
215 Ms. Oxford, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 728-739 (§§ 714-727 Seder
468-488 (§§ 428-467 Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit ), Ms. Munich 40
Bereshit); Ms. Munich 22 §§
within the structure
§§ 728-739 (§§ 714-727 Seder Rabbah di-Bereshit). Hence, the location
the fact that a similar
of the macroforms is identical in Mss. Oxford and Munich 40, apart from
also after 3 Enoch passages (§§ 939-973).
Shi‘ur Qomah/Metatron piece appears in Ms. 40
On this, see Klaus Herrmann , “Text und Fiktion: Zur Textiiberl ieferung des Shi‘ur
216
Qoma,” FJB 16, 1988, pp. 117 ff.
217 See above, p. 280.
296 Chapter 8

seems again as if the editor of our macroform has adopted some Hekhalot Rab-
bati Vorlage and used it to his own and quite different purpose.
Beginning with paragraph 384, the redactor of Ms. New York 8128 has assem-
bled a corpus of loosely edited traditions focusing on the extraordinary position
in heaven of Metatron. It starts with a depiction of the heavenly geography, more
precisely the innermost circle around God, with Metatron in its center, followed
by a description of Metatron’s heavenly liturgy. Most notably, Metatron is called
here na ‘ar (“youth”), with no further explanation, but it seems obvious that our
author is inspired by the famous passage in 3 Enoch?!$ (in other words, that the
macroform 3 Enoch is presupposed here, and not the other way around). The
heavenly geography culminates in God’s hand resting on the head of the “youth,
whose name is Metatron,” making clear that this Metatron is indeed closest to
God. To underline this unique position, we are told that Metatron’s name is like
God’s name (§ 384) and that he is even called “the lesser YHWH, according
to the name of his master” (§ 387).7!° This almost-identification of Metatron’s
name with God’s name, and accordingly of Metatron with God, is further proof
of our editor’s dependence on 3 Enoch.*”° It makes sense, therefore, that it is Me-
tatron, who reveals God’s names (§ 384) —the same Metatron who serves “under
the throne of glory”?! (§ 385), who himself has seventy names (§ 387),222 and
who even helped poor Moses remember the Torah after Moses forgot it imme-
diately on receiving it on Mount Sinai (§ 388).
With this unique position assigned to Metatron, it also comes as no surprise
that Metatron, and only he, knows and utters the Tetragrammaton, the ineffable
name of God. A dramatic scene (§ 390, with a parallel in § 399) describes how
Metatron blocks the ears of the holy creatures with the “fire of deafness” so that
even they cannot hear God — nor hear Metatron, uttering the ineffable name.
This is doubly ironic: first, because there is no reason why the holy creatures,
the bearers of the throne, should not hear God speaking: note that in Hekhalot
Rabbati they were the most beloved creatures of God (next to Israel) and in con-
stant dialogue with their master.**? Now they are demoted not only in their re-

718 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, $§ 3—S; see below, pp. 317 ff.
*19 Followed by the appropriate Bible verse Ex. 23:21: “For my name is in him.”
220 Tn fact, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur. §§ 387 and 388, are identical with (and most
likely quotations of) §§ 76 and 77 of 3 Enoch.
221 Literally “under.”
222 See also Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 389, on the peculiar names of Metatron. In
the parallel § 396, even Moses is requested to pay heed to him because God’s
name is in him
(Ex. 23:21). The anonymous angel in Exodus has become Metatron.
23 Already in Ezekiel we learn that when they stood still and let their wings drop,
“there
was a sound from above the expanse that was over their heads” (Ezek.
1:25). This sound, of
course God’s voice, was mainly directed at Ezekiel, but there is no reason
to believe that the
holy creatures were unable to hear it.
 The Merkavah Mystics 297

lationship to Israel but also to the highest angel of all, Metatron.”** And second,
because the text hastens to continue with the revelation of precisely this or these
secret name(s) that the holy creatures are not allowed to hear. It is not entirely
clear who the addressee of this revelation is supposed to be: certainly R. Aqiva
and his students, as in all the passages before, but it seems that in these sections
of Hekhalot Zutarti a shift takes place from the closed circle of Aqiva’s students
to a much larger audience of initiates (but still, of course, of the people of Israel
only): God has separated them from all the nations and granted them the insight
“to know his great and awesome name” (§ 392).?”°
God’s and Metatron’s names become almost interchangeable, to such an ex-
tent that it is not always clear who is being addressed. Paragraph 397 begins with
names of Metatron, inscribed on God’s crown. Then follows a new version of
~m Avot 1:1: instead of the Torah that Moses received on Mount Sinai, he now
receives the “‘great name” and transmits it to Joshua, the elders, the prophets,
the members of the great assembly, and finally to Ezra and to Hillel, after which
the name was concealed.” This is not only an odd retelling of the famous chain
of transmission in Pirqei Avot, with the “name” substituting the Torah; what is
most remarkable is the fact that the scribes of our manuscripts do not agree on
whose name is meant: God’s or Metatron’s.””” The same blurring of boundaries
between God and Metatron is true for paragraph 400, where we learn that they
(apparently God and Metatron) “from his [sic] loins downward they [sic] resem-
ble one another, from his loins upward they do not resemble one another.” This is
a quotation from Ezek. 1:27 (in reversed order),?8 where it is said of the figure of
the human being on the throne (God) that “from the appearance of his loins up-
ward I saw the like of hashmal, and from the appearance of his loins downward
I saw something with the appearance of fire.” Hence, what in Ezekiel is reserved
for God alone is here applied also to Metatron, arguing that God and Metatron
resemble each other in the lower part of their bodies. The microform continues
with long lists of names (§§ 400-402) that again seem to play deliberately with
the blurring of boundaries between God and Metatron, his highest angel.
The next two paragraphs of the microform (§§ 403-404) mark the transition
of R.
to the next microform (§§ 407-427). They are suddenly put in the mouth
Nehunya b. Haqanah, his master.
Ishmael, who transmits a message from R.

224 Whereas all the angels in Hekhalot Rabbati are subordinate to Israel.
God that he has re-
225 See also Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 393, where they praise
vealed his name not to the nations but to them alone.
Palestinian Amora
226 | have no explanation for the fact that of all the rabbis R. Abbahu (the y
d as the one who apparentl
of the third century, head of the school of Caesarea) is mentione
gets hold of the name again. ’s)
(presumably Metatron
227 They vary between “my (presumably God’s) name” and “his
-Literatur and the translati on in Uberset zung der Hekhalot-
name”; see Synopse zur Hekhalot
Literatur, vol. 3, pp. 122 f.
see ibid., pp. 128 f.
228 Only the Genizah fragment G24 preserves the order in Ezekiel;
 298 Chapter 8

Hence we are back to a pattern that was peculiar to Hekhalot Rabbati in par-
ticular”? and one that is quite distinct from the setting we have encountered so
far in Hekhalot Zutarti. The last paragraphs of our microform (§§ 405—406) are
transmitted again in the name of R. Aqiva, but both of them are integrated in
a single manuscript (Budapest 238) also in the Sar ha-Torah piece of Hekhalot
Rabbati.”*° The first reemphasizes Metatron’s unique position (telling us for the
first time in Hekhalot Zutarti that he is of human origin), whereas the second re-
turns to the distinct role that Israel plays during the heavenly liturgy — a feature
that again was highly characteristic of Hekhalot Rabbati.

3. §$§ 407-427: The Test of the Mystic and His Ascent

So we are back now to the language and themes of Hekhalot Rabbati — with
considerable adaptations, however, to the style of Hekhalot Zutarti — and this is
precisely what distinguishes the microform §§ 407-427 from previous micro-
forms.”3' The microform begins, out of the blue, with the famous test imposed
on the mystic, which is also incorporated (not particularly convincingly either)
in Hekhalot Rabbati.?** An angel with the name hashma?® chooses the worthy
mystic by submitting him to a test carried out by his fellow angels: when they
invite him to enter the sixth palace, he is expected to follow only their second
request; the poor adept who immediately follows their first request will be bru-
tally killed (§§ 407 and 258, respectively). This test is followed by another one,
according to which the sixth palace looks as if it is full of water that pours out
onto the mystic who is about to enter it. When the adept, who has survived the
first test, panics and asks, “This water, what is its nature?” he is exposed as un-
worthy and killed (§§ 408 and 259). Whatever the precise meaning of the tests
may be,*** both seem quite arbitrary, and I am still convinced that the role of the
angels and of the danger implied is much less significant than the texts want us

*° The only direct parallel, however, can be found in the macroform Ma‘aseh Merkavah
(Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 579-580).
230 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 295-296.
31 On this, see Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 60f., 65 f., 73 ff.
282 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 258-259: see above, p. 281, n. 136. On the differ-
ences between the two versions in Hekhalot Rabbati and Hekhalot Zutarti, see the notes
on the
Rye ores in Ubersetzung zur Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 2, pp. 238-241, and vol. 3,
pp. 145-148.
*83 An interpretation of Ezek. 1:27, where the hashmal radiates from the upper part
of the
body of the human-like figure seated on the throne (that is, God).
234 For the water test and the vast literature on this topic see Schafer,
Hekhalot-Studien,
pp. 244 ff. with n. 67; Ronen Reichman, “Die ‘Wasser-Episode’ in der Hechalot-L
iteratur,”
FJB 17, 1989, pp. 67-100; Christopher Morray-Jones, A Transparent Illusion:
The Dangerous
Vision of Water in Hekhalot Mysticism (Leiden: Brill, 2002).
 The Merkavah Mystics 299

to believe (and most scholars suggest).”*> The real decision about who is worthy
and who is not has been made long before the tests.
In their present editorial context the tests clearly function as a prelude to
Hekhalot Zutarti’s peculiar (as we will see) version of an ascent account. After
having Aqiva quote some anonymous mystic (who is only in Ms. New York
8128 identified as Ben Azzai),”°° who unfortunately did not pass the water test,
the microform moves on to a poorly edited ascent account (under the tutelage
of Aqiva). It begins (§ 411) with a reference to the countenance of Jacob that
shines before God in heaven and which is compared to the love of God’s beloved
people that approaches God on his throne. Quite clearly, Hekhalot Zutarti here
takes up from Hekhalot Rabbati?*’ the motif of Jacob’s countenance engraved
_on God’s throne and blends the individual mystic’s ascent with the ascent, so
to speak, of the people of Israel. In doing so it incorporates, in a rather odd and
abbreviated way, Hekhalot Rabbati’s motif of God’s love for his people (and of
the ascent as ultimately serving this purpose) into what still remains the ascent
account of an individual.?38 But then we are already in the seventh palace, where
the worthy mystic, with no further ado, is placed before the throne of glory. This
again reminds us of Hekhalot Rabbati,’*? as does the continuation of the mys-
tic’s experience: despite the promising introduction — “he beholds and sees the
kings in his beauty”“° — there follows no description of this vision; instead, the
mystic breaks out in a long litany praising God as king (as he does in Hekhalot
Rabbati).74!
Then the editor leads us a step back and presents a sophisticated section
(§§ 413-417) about the names of the guardian angels at the entrances of the
seven palaces and the seals that the mystic must show them. We are familiar with

235. See my remarks in Hekhalot-Studien, pp. 255-257. On the dangers awaiting the Merkavah
gsmotiv
mystic during his ascent in general, see Johann Maier’s classic article, “Das Gefahrdun
ise in der jiidischen Apokalypti k und “Gnosis,” Kairos 5 (1963), pp. 8-40.
bei der Himmelsre
236 As we know from § 345.
237 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 164 (see above, p. 261).
is the fact that
238 Another indication of Hekhalot Zutarti’s dependence on Hekhalot Rabbati
blood is above
God sits under clouds that “drip blood”: compare § 215, where a cloud dripping
the heads of the guardian angels of the seventh palace and their horses.
239 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 236 (see above, p. 279).
240 Thid., § 412.
reference to the heavenly
241 In Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 236, follows some vague
into the seventh palace
liturgy, whereas § 249 (immediately after the worthy mystic’s entrance
litany praising God as king. When Wolfson, Speculum , p. 117, argues
in § 248) presents another
cal terms that the mystic (R. Aqiva) has
that in § 412 “it is stated in very direct and unequivo
upon the throne” and that I ignore or rather suppress this important evidence,
a vision of God
(I simply don’t know). What Tam
he misses my point: I am not claiming that there is no vision
is that instead of describin g a vision of the king on his throne the author indulges in a
saying
any attention to the complex and
long litany about the “king.” Moreover, Wolfson does not pay
tion.
complicated literary layers of the paragraphs under considera
300 Chapter 8

this important prerequisite for a successful ascent from Hekhalot Rabati,”

but, unlike in Hekhalot Rabbati (where the mystic presented two seals: one
with names of God and the other with names of the Prince of the Countenance),
here the seals contain only names of God. Moreover, each entrance is assigned
only one guardian angel (unlike the two angels in Hekhalot Rabbati), and Aqiva
carefully specifies which angel (with his proper name spelled out) relates to
which name of God. After this belated instruction we find ourselves again with
the mystic in the seventh palace (§ 418), where suddenly a voice — presumably
the voice of God — calls upon him, “Ask your request,” the mystic answering
(§§ 418 and 419):
May it be your will,
Lord, God of Israel,
our God and God of our fathers ..., 243
that I may find grace and mercy
before the throne of your glory
and in the eyes of all your servants,”“4
and bind all of your servants to me (we-tizzaqegq li),
in order to do so and so.

Here the “vision” of the mystic ultimately culminates in the request for a suc-
cessful adjuration of the angels.*** The mystic who made it up into the seventh
palace has his wish granted that the angels be at his beck and call. Although
we did encounter some magical implications in Hekhalot Rabbati’s ascent
accounts," they are a far cry from what is going on here: the magical adjura-
tion as the goal and climax of the heavenly journey. Despite the fact that this
microform of Hekhalot Zutarti is much closer to Hekhalot Rabbati than the pre-
vious microforms, there can be no doubt that Hekhalot Zutarti’s editor reworked
his material in order to adapt it to his overall magical-theurgical message. The
passage concludes with a quotation of Cant. 5:10-16, with small segments of
the biblical text interrupted with the stereotyped word tzeva’ot (an ellipsis of
YHWH tzeva’ot, “the Lord of hosts”). This is clear indication of a rhythmic
structure that interprets the quoted segments of biblical verses as names of God
and underlines the theurgical-liturgical function of the text.247 There is no hint

42 See above, pp. 274 fff.

ee The text is interrupted here by an interpolation in Ms. New York 8128 — parallel
to
§§ 251 ff. in Hekhalot Rabbati — praising again God as king (but fragments of this interpolatio
n
are preserved in the other manuscripts).
*44 The angels who attend God’s throne.
45 On the magical formula of binding the angels to human beings (and forcing
them to do
their will), see Schafer, Hekhalot-Studien, pp. 258 ff.
246 See Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 204 f., where the mystic adjures
Suriyah in order
to undertake the ascent; see above, p. 272.
47 Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, p. 171, nn. 13 and
15.
 The Merkavah Mystics 301

whatsoever, pace Scholem’s and Lieberman’s reading,”** of Cant. 5:10—16 as

referring to the Shi‘ur Qomah as the true essence of the mystic’s vision in the
seventh palace.?*”
After this follows a strange Ishmael piece (§§ 420-421) that is unique not
only in Hekhalot Zutarti but in the Hekhalot literature in general; it is preserved
in all the manuscripts of the Synopse as well as in a Genizah fragment (with
major differences).**° The first part (§ 420) refers to a mysterious angel known
by the unintelligible name MGHShH but who is undoubtedly identical with
Metatron. He stands at the first entrance to the “great palace” (G8), where he
burns the mystic’s hands and feet, and serves before the throne of glory, where
he prepares the throne, dresses God with a special garment (the halug, a shirtlike
_ robe, known also from Hekhalot Rabbati),’>!' adorns the hashmal, and opens the
gates of salvation (the latter not in G8). In this framework, only G8 incorporates
an adjuration that guarantees full knowledge of the Written Torah (in its three
components) as well as of the Oral Torah. The second part (§ 421) is put in the
mouth of the angel Anafiel, whom we also encountered in Hekhalot Rabbati.”””
In the manuscripts of the Synopse it is he who immediately fulfills the request
of the worthy mystic and, moreover, kills the mystic’s opponent who dares to
slander him. This immediately reminds us of the praise of the adept in Hekhalot
Rabbati (in the Gedullah hymns), where the angels are said to throw upon such
a slanderer all kinds of sores and evil bruises (§ 84). In the Genizah fragment,
however, this message is turned into just the opposite: there, Anafiel threatens
not the mystic’s opponent but the mystic himself who dares to adjure him. What-
ever the rationale of the fragment’s author,?*? the editors of the manuscripts in
the Synopse do not follow his lead but, on the contrary, reemphasize the magical-
theurgical message of Hekhalot Zutarti: they conclude the paragraph by prais-
ing R. Aqiva because God revealed himself to him — through the work of the
Merkavah (ma ‘aseh merkavah) — “in order to fulfill his desire.” For the editor
of Hekhalot Zutarti, the “ascent” to the Merkavah is a discipline that guarantees
successful magical adjurations.”*

248 Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, pp. 36 ff., 76, 79-83, 118 ff.
Jewish
249 Martin S. Cohen, The Shi‘ur Qomah: Liturgy and Theurgy in Pre-Kabbalistic
Mysticism (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1983), pp. 19 ff.
pp. 97 ff. (dated be-
250 G8, fol. 2b, 1. 34ff.: Geniza-Fragmente zur Hekhalot-Literatur,
century CE); see also Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God,
fore the middle of the eleventh
Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3,
pp. 65f. German translation of the passage in Ubersetzung der
pp. 174-180.
251 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 102.
252 Thid., §§ 241-248. He appears also in 3 Enoch; see in particular § 26.
here, for the first time in
253 In Hidden and Manifest God, p. 66, | suggest that we encounter
by the Hekhalot mystic.”
a Hekhalot text, “implicit criticism of the practice of adjuration
again by no means restricte d to Aqiva, for the text continues con-
254 And this discipline is
will, my desire, my wish and my entire
spicuously once more in the first person: “Thus my
request will be fulfilled. Amen, Amen, Amen, Selah.”
302 Chapter 8

This is precisely the message that the last paragraphs of our microform un-
derscore (§§ 422-424): not only Aqiva, who explains the secret of the ascent to
and descent from the Merkavah?>> (§ 422) but everybody who troubles himself
with the ascent and descent is granted (by God) a benediction in heaven and on
earth. A final admonition by R. Agiva concludes the microform, stressing the
disciplinary character (“this mishnah”) of the use of the name and specifying
some preparatory rituals (§ 424):
R. Aqiva said:
Everyone who wishes to learn this mishnah
and to explain the name”
shall fast for 40 days.
He shall rest his head between his knees,
until the fast has taken complete hold of him.
He shall whisper to the earth but not to heaven,
so that the earth will hear (it), but not heaven.
If he is a youth,
he should say it before he has an ejaculation.
If he is a married man,
he should be prepared for three days,?°’
as it is said: Be prepared for the third day [do not go near a woman].
(Ex. 19:15)

The goal of this exercise is the use of the divine name. To be sure, the name was
brought back by Aqiva from an ascent to heaven — and “everyone” is called upon
to follow his example — but in fact, the “ascent” has been reduced to learning
the correct “recipe” (that is, the mishnah, taught by R. Aqiva), and the prepara-
tory ritual (consisting here of fasting and sexual abstinence) is needed for the
proper learning, remembering, and performance of the adjuration. This ritual
is reminiscent of very similar rituals used by the adept to bind himself to the
Prince of the Torah in order to learn properly and not forget the Torah.25* What
makes our ritual unique is the fact that the mystic is instructed to rest his head
between his knees and to whisper to the earth, which is nowhere else mentioned
in the Hekhalot literature.” Since precisely this request — “He must ... put his
head between his knees and whisper many traditional songs and hymns to the

55 Note again the “correct” terminology: ‘aliyah for the ascent and yeridah for the de-
scent.
256
Lit. “and to explain the name in its meaning.”
257
That is, he should refrain from sexual intercourse for three days.
258
For example, Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 299 (with a longer list of requirements:
washing one’s clothes, taking a bath of immersion, going into seclusion for several days,
eating
only bread and drinking only water) and § 560 (fasting, eating only bread with salt, immersions,
not looking at colors, casting the eyes to the earth, and so forth).
°° Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 560 (part of the macroform Ma‘aseh Merkavah)
has
only the request to cast the eyes downward to the earth.
 The Merkavah Mystics 303

earth” — is mentioned in a responsum of the tenth-century Babylonian scholars

Sherira and Hai Gaon as the prerequisite for an ascent to the Merkavah,? some
scholars, following Scholem,Ӣ! believe that we are here offered a rare glimpse
into how the ascent was achieved by the enigmatic circles practicing it: through
some kind of shamanistic repeating of hymns (presumably the Qedushah hymns
mentioned in Hekhalot Rabbati) combined with ascetic practices until a state of
ecstasy was achieved in which the mystic would undertake the heavenly jour-
ney in his mind while his body remained on earth (like R. Nehunya b. Haqanah
in Hekhalot Rabbati).*© The problem with this explanation, however, is the fact
that not only is this passage unique in the Hekhalot literature (one would expect
such important information to be placed much more prominently and not just as
a passing remark)’® but also that it is aimed at mastering the proper procedure of
the adjuration and not of a heavenly journey. I continue to believe,*™ therefore,
that the attempt to extrapolate from this passage the actual practice of the ascent
as it was carried out by the enigmatic circle of Merkavah mystics remains highly
speculative and unconvincing.” The main concern of our passage, in addition
to the instruction in how to learn and repeat Aqiva’s ““mishnah,” is to make sure
that those who use it observe certain restrictions so that they do not endanger
themselves and God’s “world.”
The following two paragraphs (§§ 425-426), put into the mouth of R.
Ishmael,2® lead into the next microform (§§ 489-495). They emphasize the eso-
teric nature of the revelation that is recorded now in a “book” — further indication
of a secondary stage of development of the Hekhalot traditions that has become
progressively more apparent in the latter passages of Hekhalot Zutarti.?”

260 Explicitly referring to Hekhalot Rabbati and Hekhalot Zutarti: B.M. Lewin, Otzar ha-
Geonim, vol. 4/2 (Hagigah), part 1 (Teshuvot), Jerusalem 1931, p. 14; cf. also p. 61.
Chariot:
261 Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism, p. 49; James R. Davila, Descenders to the
The People behind the Hekhalot Literature (Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 96 ff.
262 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 225 ff. (see above, p. 276).
he
263 According to b Berakhot 34b, R. Hanina b. Dosa put his head between his knees when
knees during
prayed for the recovery of Yohanan b. Zakkai’s son. Resting the head between the
be an (old?) ritual to intensify the effect of the prayer that originally, however,
prayer seems to
that it was Sherira/Hai
has nothing to do with a mystical ascent experience. It seems, therefore,
Gaon who made this ritual a prerequisite for an ascent.
es
264 See Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 153f.
mentioned in this re-
265 No less problematic, of course, is the attempt to identify the works
texts as we know them from our later medieval manuscripts.
sponsum with the Hekhalot of
and not
266 In dialogue with Suriyah, a feature characteristic of Hekhalot Rabbati ; '
Hekhalot Zutarti; see above, p. 257.
see above. p. 283, n. 149. Hekhalot Zutarti continues in
267 For the paragraphs 427 and 428,
the Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur with § 489.
304 Chapter 8

4. §§ 489-495: The Book of the Mysteries of the Divine Names

All the sections of this microform, preserved again in most of the manuscripts,?*
revolve around the book of the magical names and the use of these names. Some
(presumably later) editor of Hekhalot Zutarti integrated them into this macro-
form because they fit in very well with the overall magical-theurgical orienta-
tion of the macroform. The microform begins with a praise of God (§ 489), who,
we are told quite unexpectedly, did not reveal his wisdom to human beings but
instead to the angels, and left it to the angels to reveal it to human beings. This
runs counter to all that we have learned so far — from the Hekhalot literature (in
particular Hekhalot Rabbati) as well as from the classical midrash?® — where
God’s desire to reveal his “wisdom” (that is, the Torah) to Israel goes against
the angels’ desire to keep it to themselves. So Hekhalot Zutarti distances itself
again quite openly from Hekhalot Rabbati. Its emphasis on the importance of
the angels is concordant, however, with the role it constantly ascribes to the
higher angels (specifically Metatron), thus reinforcing the impression of a later
redactional stage.*”°
The essence of the knowledge of the name(s) is concentrated now in a “book”
that someone “finds” and sets about using. The preparatory rituals he must un-
dergo are similar to those carried out by someone who wishes to adjure the
Prince of the Torah — further indication that the knowledge of the name(s) is
nothing but full knowledge of the Torah in an eminently magical sense. This
is confirmed by the fact that the preparations are supposed to extend over forty
days (similar to the forty days Moses spent on Mount Sinai) and focus on ritual
purity: the adept should not look at people afflicted with leprosy or gonorrhoea,
or at menstruating women, or eat anything prepared by women; he should don
white clothes and take ritual baths, and if he happens to have a nocturnal pol-
lution he needs to start the whole procedure all over again. When he is finally
able to read the book he should not lift his eyes to heaven, for when he sees the
face of the Shekhinah (!) he will immediately die. Here the straightforward use
of the rabbinical term Shekhinah and the unequivocal ban on seeing the Shekhi-
nah — after the much more sophisticated discussions in previous sections of
Hekhalot Zutarti’’' — point again to a later development within the transmission
process of the Hekhalot traditions.

68 For details, see Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 3, p. 188, n. 1.

269 See above, pp. 267, 282.
77° To be sure, the idea that the angels revealed the Torah to Israel is quite old; see, e.g.,
Josephus, Ant. 15, 136; Acts 7:51-53; Gal. 3:19; Heb. 2:13, and the rabbinic opposition
against it expressed through the frequent formula “not through the medium of an angel
or a
messenger” (see Schafer, Rivalitdt, pp. 48 ff.). But I don’t think Hekhalot Zutarti is in
dialogue
with this tradition.
271 See above, pp. 288 ff.
 The Merkavah Mystics 305

Furthermore, the happy owner of the precious book is advised not to give it
away for some earthly goods or to reveal the name to some unworthy individual
(the well-known emphasis on the esoteric nature of the revelation, particularly
in the later sections of Hekhalot Zutarti). The adept who follows this advice is
praised in terms similar to the Gedullah hymns in Hekhalot Rabbati, except that
now we are no longer dealing with a mystic who obtains his knowledge and
power from an ascent to the Merkavah (§§ 81 ff.) but rather from the use of the
names he reads in a book. He is able to perform miracles reminiscent of the book
Sefer ha-Razim — he catches lions, dries up the sea, extinguishes the fire, and
kills whomever he desires’? — and a far cry from the community-oriented power
of the hero of the Gedullah hymns (§ 490).
The following paragraphs mainly present variations of the praise of the
name(s) and of their multifarious forms. The microform concludes with the
promise that the “house in which this book will be deposited” will not suffer
from fire, dearth, and all sorts of other disaster (§ 495). This is but another indi-
cation of a more widespread and practical use of the magical book — most likely,
of course, Hekhalot Zutarti itself.?”

5. §§ 498-517: The Magic of the Name

Most of the paragraphs of this last microform are unique in Ms. New York 8128
and are clearly the work of a later editor who felt encouraged by the previous
sections to augment the macroform Hekhalot Zutarti with ever more material
about the magical use of the names of God. It begins (§ 498, only in Ms. New
York) with an exegesis of Ex. 34:5 f. that takes the biblical verse literally: when
God came down in a cloud, Moses uttered the name of the Lord (the Tetragram-
maton) and — this is the interpretation of our author/editor — as a consequence
name
of this the Lord passed before him, whereupon Moses uttered the divine
toward his people of
again and praised God as “compassionate and gracious”
name that the
Israel. Hence, according to the author/editor of this section, the
on
initiates use in magical adjurations is indeed the name that Moses uttered
Mount Sinai.
that we
Paragraph 499 mentions the mysterious name of twenty-two letters
ph 501?”
encountered for the first time in § 364 in this macroform. With paragra
only in Ms. New York.?75 They all deal with prac-
begin sections that are added
Recovered Book of Magic
272 See Mordecai Margalioth, ed., Sepher Ha-Razim: A Newly edition of Sefer
1966), passim. A new
from the Talmudic Period (Jerusalem: Yediot Achronot,
with a German translati on and comment ary is in preparation.
ha-Razim
273 Paragraphs 496f. are duplicates of §§ 366f.
it deals with the names that are
274 Paragraph 500 is added only in Ms. Munich 22 because
book” (althou gh put in the mouth of R. Ishmael) .
recorded in the “great
preserved in Ms. Oxford 1531
275 With the exception of §§ 501 and 512, which are also
context: § 542).
(§ 501 also in Ms. Munich 22, although in a different
306 Chapter 8

tical magic (adjurations of certain angels, dream interpretations) and focus on

varieties of the name, the extraction of names from biblical verses, and in par-
ticular the names of fourteen (§ 513), seventy-two (ibid.), and forty-two letters
(§ 516). Since Moses is regarded here as the first recipient of the name, it is only
logical — although not without some comical implications (taking into account
the importance of the holy creatures, not least in Hekhalot Rabbati) — that the
holy creatures need to ask Moses for the ineffable name of God (§ 508). The
microform finally concludes with yet another adjuration, using God’s name, that
is located at the holy ark in the synagogue (§ 517) — another far cry from the
Temple-oriented setting of, most prominently, Hekhalot Rabbati.
Altogether, my analysis of the macroform Hekhalot Zutarti, as it is preserved
in the manuscripts of the Synopse, has made abundantly clear that the editors
have put great emphasis on the magical use of the divine names or, more pre-
cisely, that they are obsessed with the names of God. Even the ascent accounts in
this macroform are adapted to this overarching message: Aqiva and his followers
achieve, through their “ascent,” knowledge of the divine names and their proper
use — definitely not a vision of God in the traditional sense of the word or even
a participation in the heavenly liturgy. The communal orientation, so striking in
Hekhalot Rabbati, has given way to a much more personal, if not individualistic
and egoistic, attitude in Hekhalot Zutarti. The power of the angels (in particular
of Metatron), which was present but clearly muted in Hekhalot Rabbati, returns
with new force, albeit for the sake and to the advantage of the adept who knows
how to make use of it in his adjurations. Accordingly, the secret knowledge re-
vealed to Aqiva becomes a “‘mishnah” that can be studied and ultimately devel-
ops into a book that contains all one needs to know in order to use it for ever
more mundane magical purposes. These last layers of the macroform are clearly
later stages of the literary development of Hekhalot Zutarti, most conspicuous
in Ms. New York 8128. Scholem’s optimism that “most of the book’s [Hekhalot
Zutarti’s] content is devoted ... especially to theurgical instructions of consid-
erable age”*”° — which in fact are drawn, in particular, from the (late) magical
redaction of Ms. New York — cannot be corroborated.

Shi‘ur Qomah

We have encountered some smaller pieces of Shi‘ur Qomah fragments — the

enigmatic tradition of God’s gigantic body dimensions and the names attached
to them — scattered over Hekhalot Rabbati and, particularly, the Ms. New York
8128 recension of Hekhalot Zutarti.2”7 In addition to these fragments, we find two

276 Jewish Gnosticism, p. 76; my emphasis.

*77 See above, pp. 262, 290, 294f., 301.
 The Merkavah Mystics 307

larger Shi‘ur Qomah units, one incorporated in the macroform Merkavah Rab-
bah (§§ 688—704),””® and the other one only in Ms. Munich 40 in a very similar
unit that may or may not add up to a macroform of its own (§§ 939-953 or 978,
respectively).?” It is doubtful whether “Shi‘ur Qomah” was ever regarded as an
independent macroform within the corpus of the Hekhalot traditions. Clearly, a
variety of versions were circulating in the Middle Ages and were absorbed into
different contexts; any attempt to track down an alleged Urtext of Shi‘ur Qomah
proves futile.?®° I will briefly survey the Shi‘ur Qomah material as presented in
Merkavah Rabbah and Ms. Munich 40 (following the sequence in Ms. Munich,
but noting some important differences in the Merkavah Rabbah version).
The “macroform” begins with sections (§§ 939 ff.), which the editor of
Ms. New York 8128 has incorporated into the macroform Hekhalot Zutarti
(§§ 376 ff.). As in Hekhalot Zutarti, the originator of the revelation is Metatron,
but the recipient now is R. Ishmael, whereas the same material in Hekhalot
Zutarti was put into the mouth of R. Aqiva. The actual description of the Shi‘ur
Qomah begins in paragraph 948.8! The sequence of God’s body parts, although
not completely identical in the Merkavah Rabbah manuscripts and the Ms. Mu-
nich “marcroform,” follows a very similar pattern. It starts from below, with
the soles of God’s feet, moves upward from the ankles, shanks, knees, thighs,
shoulders,7*? and neck to the head (its circumference, crown,”* nose, tongue,
forehead, eyes),”** and then downward from the shoulders to the arms, fingers,
palms, and toes. In each case the measurement of the particular limb is given in
astronomical figures and always in parasangs (parsa’ot), the Persian miles (X
myriads parasangs). The use of Persian miles as the unit of length instead of bib-
lical measurements clearly points to the Babylonian cultural context rather than
Palestine as the place of origin of these traditions.”*°

278 Embedded, not surprisingly, in traditions about the “great mystery” of the divine name
and Prince of the Torah traditions.
279 In Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 4, pp. XXXIff., we have treated §§ 939-978
as a macroform “Shi‘ur Qomah” of its own, but the core of the Shi‘ur Qomah material consists
of §§ 939-953. It is preceded in Ms. Munich 40 by 3 Enoch (§§ 882-938) and followed by tra-
ditions about the heavenly geography and Metatron (§§ 954 ff.) that the redactor of Ms. New
York has incorporated in Hekhalot Zutarti.
280 The major proponent of an Urtext is Martin S. Cohen; see his The Shi'ur Qomah: Texts
in
and Recensions (Tiibingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1985), pp. 3 ff., and our critique
Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 4, pp. XX XVIII ff.
281 Paragraph 695 in Merkavah Rabbah.
282 Only in Merkavah Rabbah.
283 The crown here only in Merkavah Rabbah; in the Ms. Munich 40 “macroform” it follows
at the very end, just before the quotation of the verses from Song of Songs.
the
284 The eyes are specified with regard to the “white” and “black” in each eye and even
includes the
eye sockets in Merkavah Rabbah. Merkavah Rabbah is more detailed and also
curls, ears, eyebrows, cheeks, and lips.
R. Nathan
285 This fits in well with the explicit attribution of the Shi‘ur Qomah traditions to
of R. Yehudah
(§§ 951 and 700): R. Nathan (a Tanna of the fourth generation and contemporary
 308 Chapter 8

Moreover, in addition to the measurements of the individual limbs, their

names are also given in great and exhausting detail (nomina barbara). The im-
portance of the limbs’ names is emphasized by the fact that the editor some-
times interrupts his description of the limbs and their names with lists of specific
names: we learn, for example, that on God’s heart are written seventy names and
on his forehead seventy-two letters (§§ 948 and 949, respectively).?®° This is a
clear indication that for the editor, in accordance with his overall obsession with
the letters of God’s name(s), the revelation of the names seems to be the most
meaningful part of the Shi‘ur Qomah tradition.?*’ To make his point absolutely
clear, he even explicitly tells us — in the middle of all these detailed measure-
ments and names — that “we have in our hands no measurement (middah), but
the names are revealed to us” (§ 949).788 So, after all these endless and tiring
lists of figures and names, the anticlimactic message is, the measurements do not
really count.”*®? What is crucial here is the knowledge of the appropriate names,
because, we might add, the one who knows the names not only knows God but
becomes master over heaven and earth.
Conspicuously, the only meaningful name among all the nomina barbara is
the one that appears on God’s crown, the name of Israel; furthermore, on the
precious stone between the “horns” of the crown is engraved “Israel is my peo-
ple” (§ 951).?”° This by no means coincidental emphasis on Israel is followed
by a quotation of Cant. 5:10-16, where, according to our author/editor, Israel
addresses — and describes — God’s, their “beloved’s” (dodi), body.??! Hence, for
the “macroform” Shi‘ur Qomah in almost all of its manifestations there exists
a strong correlation between the description of the divine body and the quota-
tion of certain verses from the biblical book Song of Songs. This correlation has
been used by several scholars, most notably Scholem, to establish three related
claims: first, that the Shi‘ur Qomah tradition emerged from exegesis of Song of
Songs; second, that Shi‘ur Qomah must be regarded as essential for Merkavah

ha-Nasi) immigrated from Babylonia to Palestine (hence his epithet ha-Bavli) and obviously
serves to legitimate the (pseudepigraphical) attribution of our traditions to R. Ishmael
(and
Aqiva). See Cohen, The Shi‘ur Qomah: Liturgy and Tiheurgy, p. 66, and Schafer, Ubersetzung
der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 4, pp. XXXIXf.
*86 Paragraphs 696 and 698 in Merkavah Rabbah.
*87 As I have argued already in The Hidden and Manifest God, pp. 101 f.
*88 Paragraph 699 in Merkavah Rabbah. The same paragraph also in Hekhalot
Zutarti
(§ 356); see above, p. 291.
*8° The absurdity of the figures given is emphasized by the seemingly
serious but actually
highly ironical attempt to convert the divine parasangs into some comprehe
nsible human meas-
urements — which, however, also fail to make much sense (§§ 950
and 703).
2° Paragraph 697 in Merkavah Rabbah.
2°! The Merkavah Rabbah version (§ 704) offers no link between Israel’s
name on the crown
and the Song of Song verses. However, the redactor of Ms. New York
8128 apparently quotes
the verses not according to their biblical sequence but accordin
g to the description of God in
the Shi‘ur Qomah passage.
 The Merkavah Mystics 309

mystical speculations; and third, that this Shi‘ur Qomah tradition is a particularly
old and venerable layer of the Hekhalot literature and proves the antiquity of a
core element of Merkavah mysticism.?%
As to the first claim, Scholem does not actually prove but rather presupposes
it. The (indisputable) fact that most of the Shi‘ur Qomah texts in the Hekhalot
literature refer to Cant. 5:11-16 seems proof enough for him.”*? True, Song of
Songs serves as some kind of proof text, mostly at the very end of the Shi‘ur
Qomah traditions, but this does not mean that these traditions originated in an
exegesis of Song of Songs. On the contrary, there appears no link whatsoever
between the Shi‘ur Qomah speculations’ focus on the measurements/names of
God and the biblical Song of Songs. To be sure, both texts refer to God’s limbs,
but whereas Song of Songs indeed describes them (his head is “finest gold,” his
locks are “curled and black as raven,” his eyes are “like doves,” his cheeks “like
beds of spices,” his lips “like lilies,” and so on), the Shi‘ur Qomah does not de-
scribe anything but rather gives the figures of the limbs’ gigantic sizes and, most
important, their names. It is simply impossible to explain how these figures and
names could have originated from an exegesis of Song of Songs.?”*
The second and third claims are even more problematic. Here are Scholem’s
opening reflections on the alleged link between the vision and the Shi‘ur Qomah
speculation:??°
At the end of his journey the Merkabah mystic beholds not only a vision of the world
of the Merkabah and the throne of God, but also a vision of Him who sits upon that
throne — a vision in which He appears to the mystic in “a likeness as the appearance of
a man [Ezek. 1:26].” Whereas all the other visions are of things created, however high
their rank, this final vision is of the divine glory itself. The doctrine which grew around
this vision, the doctrine of the mystical “body of God,” Shiur Komah, is of special im-
portance in establishing the antiquity of some parts of the Hekhaloth writings.

292 For the research history from Graetz (Heinrich Graetz, “Die mystische Literatur in der
gaondischen Epoche,” MGWJ 8 [1859], pp. 67-78, 103-118, 140-153), Jellinek (Adolph Jelli-
and Gaster
nek, Bet ha-Midrasch, vol. 6 (Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1967], p. XXXXIIf.),
= id., Studies
(Moses Gaster, “Das Schiur Komah,” MGW 37 [1893], pp. 179-185; 213-230
Archae-
and Texts in Folklore, Magic, Mediaeval Romance, Hebrew Apocrypha and Samaritan
the Kabbalah,
ology, vol. 2 [New York: Ktav, 1971], pp. 1330-1353) to Scholem (Origins of
Basic Concepts
pp. 20f.; Jewish Gnosticism, pp. 36-42; On the Mystical Shape of the Godhead:
1991], pp. 20 ff.) see Cohen, The Shi ‘ur Qomah: Liturgy
in the Kabbalah [New York: Schocken,
4, pp. XX XVII ff.
and Theurgy, pp. 13 ff.; Schafer, Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol.
said that the
283 See Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 37, and in particular p. 39: “I have
of the lover, who was
Song of Songs — because it contained a detailed description of the limbs
God — became the basic scriptural text upon which the doctrine of Shiur Komah
identified with
vol. 6, p. XX XXII: “Denn der Ausgangs punkt des
leaned.” See also Jellinek, Bet ha-Midrasch,
‘ur Qomah, wie es in Handschri ften zu lesen ist, ist das Hohelied. ”
Shi
p. 1333: “Denn Anleh-
294 As has been aptly observed by Gaster, Studies and Texts, vol. 2,
keit von denselben.”
nung an biblische Texte ist nicht immer zu gleicher Zeit auch Abhangig
295 Scholem, Jewish Gnostici sm, p. 36.
 310 Chapter 8

Almost everything in this programmatic paragraph is open for discussion, to say

the least. That the Merkavah mystic, at the end of his journey, beholds a vision
of God does not stand up to closer scrutiny of the texts; in fact, all our analyses
have shown that if the mystic does indeed see God, the authors/editors of the
ascent accounts have taken great pains not to reveal what he sees. More con-
cretely, they seem to have been not at all interested in such visions but rather
placed the emphasis on other things such as the participation of the mystic in
the heavenly liturgy or the knowledge of the divine names. The link between the
alleged vision and Ezekiel’s “likeness as the appearance of a man” is highly sug-
gestive — since it wishes to imply that the mystic indeed sees the glory of God
on his throne in human shape as Ezekiel describes him — but is nowhere made
in the Hekhalot literature,?°° not even in Aqiva’s famous dictum in Hekhalot
Zutarti (§ 352).??7 And finally, that “around this vision” grew the doctrine of
Shi‘ur Qomah is pure wishful thinking, since nowhere in the Hekhalot literature
is a direct link established between the mystic’s vision at the end of his ascent
and the Shi‘ur Qomah.
The springboard for the third claim is the quotation from Origen’s commen-
tary on the Song of Songs discussed above.””* There, Origen restricts the teach-
ing of the Songs of Songs, together with other biblical books, to a mature age
(probably thirty): although the Hebrew Bible as well as the Oral Torah in their
entirety belong to the rabbinic curriculum for “young boys,” Genesis 1, Ezekiel
| and 40-48, and the Song of Songs are deferred to the final stage of the curricu-
lum. From this quotation Scholem concludes that Origen refers to the exegesis
of the Song of Songs as an esoteric doctrine — as is the case with Genesis 1 and
Ezekiel 1 (the well-known rabbinic disciplines of ma ‘aseh bereshit and ma ‘aseh
merkavah, respectively) — dealing in fact with Shi‘ur Qomah, and that therefore
the Shi‘ur Qomah speculations must be earlier than Origen (d. 253 CE) and actu-
ally “represent a second century Jewish tradition.”2%
This conclusion again is highly questionable. In his zeal to finally discover
the origins of the Shi‘ur Qomah speculations, Scholem overlooks or ignores
the fact that the four biblical passages are not described by Origen as esoteric
in the technical sense of the term; rather, Origen simply declares that these pas-
sages are restricted to a student of mature age and postponed to the final stages
of the official curriculum. Just because we encounter Genesis 1 and Ezekiel |
as esoteric disciplines in rabbinic Judaism, we cannot and should not infer that
Ezekiel 40-48 and the Song of Songs were also regarded by the rabbis as eso-
teric disciplines in precisely the same sense (Scholem’s explanation for the last

26 Ezek. 1:26 (demut ke-mar’eh adam) is not quoted in the Hekhalot

literature,
97 See above, pp. 289f.
*°8 Origen, “Commentarium in Cant. Canticorum Prologus,” in
Patrologia Graeca, ed.
Migne, vol. XIII (Paris, 1857), cols. 63 f.; see chapter 6 in this book,
pp. 183 ff.
299 Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 38; id., Origins of the
Kabbalah, p. 20.
 The Merkavah Mystics ais

chapters of Ezekiel appears to be particularly weak). Nor should we automati-

cally assume that Origen had the same reason in mind for all four passages that
were subjected to rabbinical restrictions.
If it was not because of certain esoteric Jewish Shi‘ur Qomah speculations
attached to the biblical book Song of Songs that Origen included the Song of
Songs in the biblical passages postponed by the rabbis to the very end of their
students’ curriculum, then why was it included? Here Scholem dismisses too
easily the explanation that Song of Songs was interpreted by the synagogue as
an allegory of the love between God and his people of Israel.*°° True, this alle-
gorical interpretation of Song of Songs was considered legitimate and seems to
have been quite widespread. But it remains equally true that the purpose of this
allegory was precisely to distance the reader from too physical a notion of love
by spiritualizing this love in terms of the unique history between God and his
people (the Targum of Song of Songs is a case in point).*°' So Song of Songs
could indeed be deemed dangerous, and not for nothing was its canonicity dis-
puted up until the middle of the second century ce.°” Too crude a reading of
Song of Songs as describing sheer physical love (not necessarily between God
and Israel but just between man and woman), I posit, was ample reason to place
exegesis of the Song of Songs at the end of the curriculum, when the students
were mature enough to bear the only too obvious meaning of the book, and this
despite the rabbis’ efforts to explain it away by elevating it to a higher, spiritual
plane.* The alleged connection with Merkavah mystical Shi‘ur Qomah specu-
lations seems speculative and highly unlikely.
Let us now briefly survey the other pieces of evidence collected by scholars,
again prominent among them Scholem, to prove the second-century CE prov-
enance of the Shi‘ur Qomah speculations.** Obsessed as he was with the newly
discovered connections between Merkavah mysticism and “Gnosis,” Scholem
believed he found another major proof in the Gnostic teachings of Marcus (late
second century CE), a student of Valentinus. This Marcus, Scholem claims, be-
came acquainted with the oldest forms of the Jewish Shi‘ur Qomah traditions in

300 Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, pp. 38 f.

301 Philip S. Alexander, trans., The Targum of Canticles, with a critical introduction, appa-
ratus, and notes (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2003), pp. 13 ff.
302 m Yadayim 3:5. Not by coincidence was R. Aqiva a fervent proponent of its canonicity.
Songs as an
303 In fact, Lieberman’s collection of rabbinic statements concerning Song of
text (in Appendix D to Jewish Gnosticism ) proves just this and does not necessar-
“esoteric”
origin of the Shiur
ily strengthen the view, as Scholem proudly proclaims, “of the Tannaitic
exegesis of the
Komah Gnosis (!)” (Scholem, Jewish Gnosticism, p. 40, n. 15). On the rabbinic
Stern, “Ancient Jewish Interpretat ion of the Song of Songs in a
Song of Songs, see now David
eds., Jewish Biblical Inter-
Comparative Context,” in: Natalie B. Dohrmann and David Stern,
ia: University
pretation and Cultural Exchange: Comparative Exegesis in Context (Philadelph
of Pennsylvania Press, 2008), pp. 87-107; 263-272.
u G. Stroumsa,
304 A much more nuanced treatment of these sources can be found in Gedalyah
and Christ,” HTR 76 (1983), pp. 269-288.
“Form(s) of God: Some Notes on Metatron
 319 Chapter 8

Palestine, their place of origin.*°° According to Marcus’s complicated Gnostic

system, as related by the Church Father Irenaeus,*” the divine pleroma consisted
at first of the Tetrad of Propator (“the unoriginated, unthinkable Father, who is
without material substance, and is neither male nor female”), Sige (“Silence”),
the female counterpart of Propator, and their offspring Nous (“Mind”) and
Aletheia (“Truth”). It is Sige who reveals Aletheia to Marcus (“I wish to show
you Aletheia [Truth] herself. I have brought her down from the dwellings on high
that thou might look on her unveiled and learn of her beauty and also hear her
speak and admire her wisdom’’)>” and who describes her as follows:3"
See, then, A/pha and Omega are her head on high; Beta and Psi are her neck; Gamma
and Chi are her shoulders with hands; her breast is De/ta and Phi; Epsilon and Upsi-
lon are her diaphragm; Zeta and Tau are her stomach; Eta and Sigma are her private
parts; Theta and Rho are her thighs; Jota and Pi are her knees; Kappa and Omicron are
her legs; Lambda and Xi are her ankles; Mu and Nu are her feet. This, according to the
magician, is the body of Truth; this is the shape of her character; this the impression of
her letter. And he calls this character Anthropos (Man). He claims that it is the source
of every word, the beginning of every sound, the expression of all that is unspeakable,
and the mouth of taciturn Sige. This indeed is the body of Truth (sdma tés alétheias).

This, Scholem argues, is the Gnostic Marcus’s version of what he calls “the
strictly Jewish, or more correctly Jewish-Gnostic, Shi‘ur Komah fragment” in
the Hekhalot literature*® — powerful proof not only of the Jewish origin of such
Gnostic traditions but also of the antiquity of the Shi‘ur Qomah speculations in
Merkavah mysticism with their description of God’s limbs and the names at-
tached to them. True, the parallel is striking, but so are the differences.3!° To
begin with, the letters in Marcus’s system are not nomina barbara assigned to
the limbs but rather letters of the alphabet arranged according to the simple ‘at-
bash method; also, they do not seem to be names in the proper sense of the word
but “generative forces”!! out of which the limbs are composed.3!2 Furthermore,
there is no indication in Marcus’s text of Aletheia being a gigantic figure. Fi-
nally, and most importantly, in equating the descriptions of Marcus and of the
Shi‘ur Qomah traditions, Scholem insinuates that Marcus is indeed referring to

*°5 Scholem, Mystical Shape, p. 25.

90° “Adv. haer., I, 14:1 ff. (St. Irenaeus of Lyons Against the Heresies, trans. and annot. by
Dominic J. Unger, with further revisions by John J. Dillon, vol. 1, book 1 [New York/
Mahwah,
NJ: Paulist Press, 1992], pp. 59 ff.).
307 [bid,,.1,14:3:
308 Ibid.
°0° Scholem, Mystical Shape, p. 27.
310 Noticed also by Cohen, Shi‘ur Qomah: Liturgy and Theurgy, p. 25.
311 Cohen’s apt phrase.
3!2ys Tt is conspicuous that the letters designate twelve body parts, which
makes a correla-
tion with the zodiac quite probable; see Niclas Forster, Marcus Magus: Kult,
Lehre und Ge-
meindeleben einer valentinianischen Gnostikergruppe: Sammlung der Quellen
und Kommentar
(Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1999), pp. 222 ff.
 The Merkavah Mystics ais

the body of God. But nothing could be further from the truth: Aletheia as the
offspring of Propator and Sige is, no doubt, a very high aeon, but she is none-
theless created and must not be confused with Propator (and Sige). Hence, the
differences are much greater than the similarities, and it seems highly unlikely
that Marcus adapted here Jewish Shi‘ur Qomah speculations similar to those
preserved in the Hekhalot literature.
In fact, in adducing his collection of outside evidence, Scholem indiscrimi-
nately conflates the subjects of his sources, paying no attention to whether they
address God or a heavenly figure. The few examples that indeed address God’s
body?!3 discuss the well-known problem of anthropomorphism (that the Jews
envision God as being of human shape, with hands, fingers, feet, and so on) and
have nothing to do with the Shi‘ur Qomah in a technical sense. The only ex-
ception seems to be the quotation from the Slavonic Enoch (2 Enoch), where
Enoch says (to his sons): “You see the extent of my body similar to yours, and
I saw the extent of the Lord without measure and without image and without
end.’3!4 Scholem takes for granted that Enoch saw the Shi‘ur Qomah of God,
and it is true that Enoch claims to have seen the “extent of the Lord”; yet in the
same breath he declares that God cannot be measured and cannot be seen.*!° This
may be a deliberate paradox (I saw him, but in fact he cannot be seen because
he is infinite) rather than the plain description of a gigantic God in Merkavah-
mystical terms.
The final (and earliest) source quoted by Scholem again refers to heavenly
figures, in this case to huge angels, and most definitely not to God. It is from the
lost Book of Elchasai, preserved only in Christian excerpts,*'® that was written
during the time of Trajan.*!” There, the Christian writer Hippolytus of Rome
claims that the Book of Elchasai

1, p. 256;
313 Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, chap. 114 (The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol.
Thomas B. Falls, rev. Tho-
Michael Slusser, ed., St. Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, transl.
2003], p. 170); Pseudo-
mas P. Halton [Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press,
(Die Pseudokle mentinen I: Homilien, ed. Bernhard
Clementines, Homilies, 3:7, and 17:7f.
3rd ed., Georg Strecker [Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1992], pp. 59, 232 f.).
Rehm,
translation
314 2 Enoch, chapter 13 (ed. Vaillant). The English version above is Scholem’s
original by Vaillant, Le livre
(Mystical Shape, p. 29) from the French translation of the Slavonic
Apocalypse of) Enoch,” in
des secrets d’Hénoch, p. 39. See also F.I. Andersen, “2 (Slavonic
OTP, vol. 1, p. 162 (39:5).
d in 2 Enoch; on
315 Apart from the fact that neither the limbs nor their names are mentione in the His-
Horst, “The Measure ment of the Body: A Chapter
this, see also Pieter W. van der
Dei (Leiden: Brill, 1987),
tory of Ancient Jewish Mysticism,” in Dirk van der Plas, ed., Effigies
of Early Christianity (Freiburg
pp. 56-68; repr. 1990, in idem, Essays on the Jewish World
oeck and Ruprecht , 1990), pp. 123-135.
Schweiz: Universitatsverlag; Géttingen: Vandenh
us, Refutati o omn. haer., IX, 13-17 and X, 29; Epiphani us, Panarion, 19 and
316 Hippolyt
30. Mohr [Paul Sie-
en: J. C.B.
317 Gerard P. Luttikhuizen, The Revelation of Elchasai (Tubing
116 CE.
beck], 1985), p. 191, dates the book to the autumn of
 314 Chapter 8

had been revealed by an angel whose height was twenty-four schoenoi,*'* which makes
96 miles, and whose [breadth]}*!? was 4 schoenoi, and from shoulder to shoulder 6
schoenoi; and the tracks of his feet extend to the length of three and one half schoenoi,
which make 14 miles, while the breadth is one and a half schoenos and the height half
a schoeno 5.320

Here we have an angel with a body of gigantic dimensions given in exact fig-
ures — though not figures of the measurements of his limbs but of the dimensions
of his body as a whole. Still, this comes close enough to the Shi‘ur Qomah — with
the major difference that this enormous body belongs to an angel and not to
God.*?! The text continues to explain that this male angel was actually the “Son
of God”? and had a female companion of equally gigantic size, identified as
the Holy Spirit. We may safely assume that the identifications of the angels as
the Son of God and the Holy Spirit stem from the Christian adaptation and that
the original book had just a male and female angel of gigantic proportions. Who-
ever these angels might have been — Luttikhuizen discusses the possibilities of
Michael, the heavenly Melchizedek, and the Son of Man in the Similitudes of
1 Enoch and concludes that the male angel in the original book was the escha-
tological savior (which made it easy for the Christian author to identify him
with Jesus)*”? — there is nothing unusual in the Jewish tradition when it comes
to gigantic angels.**4 For example, the two angels who accompany Enoch to
heaven in 2 Enoch are “huge,” the like of which he had never seen on earth;325
similarly, the appearance of the Watchers “was like the appearance of a human

318 The Greek schoinos is originally a land measure, used especially in Egypt; see Henry
George Liddell and Robert Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon, rev. Henry Stuart Jones (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1968), p. 1747, s.v.“schoinos.”
*! The word “breath” in the translation is obviously a misprint.
*20 Hippolytus, Refutatio omn. haer., IX, 13:2 (Greek text: Miroslav Marcovich, ed., Hip-
polytus, Refutatio Omnium Haeresium (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1986], pp. 357f.; transl.
A.F.J. Klijn and G.J. Reinink, Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects [Leiden: Brill,
1973], p. 115).
*! A distinction also neglected by Joseph M. Baumgarten, “The Book of Elkesai and
Merkabah Mysticism,” JSJ 17 (1986), pp. 220f.
322 Refutatio omn. haer., IX, 13:3. In Epiphanius, Panarion, 19, 3:4 and 19, 4:1, he is called
“Christ”; see The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis: Book I (Sects 1-46), trans. Frank Wil-
liams (Leiden: Brill, 1987), p. 46.
*°3 Luttikhuizen, Revelation of Elchasai, pp. 196 ff.
*4 Even Adam, according to the rabbinic tradition, was originally of titanic dimensions (the
adam qadmon) and was only reduced in size as punishment for his sin in the Garden
of Eden;
see, e.g., Bereshit Rabbah 8:1; Pesiqta deRav Kahana 1:1 (ed. Mandelbaum, p. 2); b
Hagigah
12a. On the danger of perceiving Adam as a second divine power, see Alan F. Segal,
Two Pow-
ers in Heaven, Leiden: Brill, 1977, pp. 110-115. Moshe Idel wants to reconstruct
remnants of
a myth of the adam gadmon in 3 Enoch, although he repeatedly admits that he
has found no
traces of an explicit identification of Enoch or Metatron with the adam gadmon;
see his “Enoch
Is Metatron,” Immanuel 24/25, 1990, pp. 220-240.
325 2 Enoch 1:4 (OTP, vol. 1, pp. 106f.).
 The Merkavah Mystics S13

being, and their size was larger than that of large giants.”**° Also in 3 Enoch the
highest angels are of vast size,*?” in particular Metatron, who says of himself:
“I was enlarged and increased in size according to the measurement (shi‘ur!) of
the world in length and breadth.”3?8
Hence, in view of this evidence, it seems more plausible to argue that originally
it was heavenly figures in the Jewish tradition, mainly angels, to whom outsize
dimensions were attributed. That God was conceived to be of such vast propor-
tions may well have been a later development, fully manifest in the (late) Shi‘ur
Qomah traditions. Why the enormous angelic dimensions were transferred to
God remains unclear and is a matter of speculation. However, the identification
of the two angels in the Book of Elchasai with Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit
by Hippolytus (early third century) and Epiphanius (fourth century) may give
us a clue. Could it be that, once the vast size of the angels was adopted by the
Christians (and, worse, these angels became divine figures), the Jewish tradition
came to insist that only God himself has gigantic dimensions, and no longer the
angels — because the latter could become, all too easily, powerful competitors of
the one and only God?3”? If this is the case, 3 Enoch (which nevertheless grants
some angels, chief among them Metatron, this particular status) stands out as a
counterexample. I will turn to this question in the following section.

3 Enoch

ascent to
This survey of the macroform 3 Enoch focuses first on R. Ishmael’s
the special role
heaven (how does it happen, what does he see?), and second on
the macrofo rm, I
the angel Metatron plays in it. As to the date and provenance of
previous research
adopt, without going into details here, the following results of
and others), as convenie ntly summari zed in Uberset-
(by Scholem, Alexander,
zung der Hekhalot-Literatur.”°
re; in fact, of the
3 Enoch belongs to the late phase of the Hekhalot literatu
Hekhal ot Rabbati , Hekhal ot Zutarti, Ma‘aseh
macroforms that make up its core —
gnostic Gospel of Peter the two
326 2 Enoch 18:1 (OTP, vol. 1, pp.130f.). According to the to heaven,
angels at Jesus’s emptytomb (Lk. 24:4: John 20:12) were reaching with their heads
” (Edgar Hennecke and Wilhelm
and the resurrected Jesus was even “overpassing the heavens
trans. R. McL. Wilson, vol. 1 [Philadel-
Schneemelcher, New Testament Apocrypha, English
phia: Westminster, 1963], p. 186).
§ 32), Keruviel (§ 33), Ofanniel
327 The holy creatures (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur,
(§ 39), Serafiel (§ 41).
328 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 12, cf. also § 73.
Shi ‘ur Qomah: Liturgy and Theurgy,
329 | take up here an idea first expressed by Cohen, The
his attempt to maintai n Schole m’s second-century date for the Shi‘ur
p. 39, n. 64 (albeit without
convincing arguments against it in the body
Qomah — which is strange enough, in view of his
of his text).
330 (Ybersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 1, pp. L-LV.
 316 Chapter 8

Merkavah, Merkavah Rabbah, and 3 Enoch — it is the latest. More precisely, I

regard the redaction of the Bavli as the terminus post quem and a quotation from
§§ 71-80 by the Karaite Kirkisani**! as the terminus ante quem, which gives us
a time frame from ca. 700 until ca. 900 cE for the final redaction of 3 Enoch. As
to the place of its origin, Babylonia is the most probable candidate, not Pales-
tine. Unlike its companions, 3 Enoch reveals strong affinities to apocalyptic and
classical rabbinic traditions. In fact, it is fair to say that it deliberately reverts to
ideas and patterns predominant in the apocalyptic and rabbinic literature; as I
have argued elsewhere, the message in the earlier macroforms of the Hekhalot
literature is “rerouted into more traditional paths and ‘objectified,’ ... acquires
‘a greater distance.”°3” Furthermore, with regard to its relationship to the other
macroforms, 3 Enoch shows intimate familiarity with earlier ascent accounts, in
particular in Hekhalot Rabbati.

1. Ishmael’s Ascent

With this background in mind, let us now look at R. Ishmael’s ascent, with which
the macroform opens.**? Note that we are back to Ishmael again, the main pro-
tagonist of Hekhalot Rabbati (instead of Aqiva in Hekhalot Zutarti). However,
before the author begins his account of Ishmael’s heavenly journey, most manu-
scripts of the macroform quote Genesis 5:24: “Enoch walked with God. Then
he was no more, for God took him.” This prelude clearly points to the real hero
of the macroform: the mortal man Enoch who became the immortal angel Me-
tatron.
Ishmael’s ascent (§§ 1—3) appears to be quite uneventful. Although the techni-
cal terminology familiar from Hekhalot Rabbati is retained (“When I ascended
[‘aliti}*** to the height to behold in my vision the Merkavah [Je-histakkel bitz-
Siyyati ba-merkavah)),” the ascent is only a faint echo of what we encountered
in Hekhalot Rabbati (or even Hekhalot Zutarti): no dangers, no threatening an-
gels, no tests. Ishmael immediately makes his way through the first six palaces,
reaches the entrance to the seventh palace, and speaks a prayer (§ 1) — not be-
fore God’s Glory (kavod) or the king, as in the other macroforms, but before the
Holy One, Blessed be He, as God is called in the classical midrash (but not in
the Hekhalot literature). And what does he ask for? Not that God let him adjure
his angels to do whatever he wishes (as in Hekhalot Zutarti) but that Qatzpiel**5

331 Philip S. Alexander, “The Historical Setting of the Hebrew Book of

Enoch,” JS 28
(1977), pp. 158f.
*? Schafer, The Hidden and Manifest God, p. 134.
333 All translations from 3 Enoch follow, with some variations, Philip
Alexander, “3 (He-
brew Apocalypse of) Enoch,” in OTP, vol. 1, pp. 255 ff.
334 Note, however, the “correct” verb for the ascent.
38° The same Qatzpiel whom we encountered as the guardian angel
of the sixth palace, to-
 The Merkavah Mystics 317

and his army not cast him from heaven. God grants his request and assigns to
him Metatron the angel, the Prince of the Divine Countenance. This is how Me-
tatron makes his entrance: immediately as the highest angel, summoned to sup-
port R. Ishmael in heaven.
Again without further ado, Ishmael enters the seventh palace and Metatron
leads him to the “camp of the Shekhinah” (another rabbinic designation of God)
and presents him “before the throne of glory so that Imight behold the Merkavah
(le-histakkel ba-merkavah)” (§ 2). Despite this familiar terminology, nothing fa-
miliar happens. Although Ishmael is already in the seventh palace, it is only now
that the “Princes of the Merkavah” frighten him so that he collapses. God (again
the Holy One, Blessed be He) rebukes them, calls him his beloved son and friend,
and Metatron revives him. Nevertheless, it takes him an hour until he gathers his
strength and is ready to sing a song of praise — though not before God but before
the throne of glory. This description, which reduces the ascent account to a bare
minimum, is much more reminiscent of the classical apocalypses than of the
Hekhalot literature proper (in particular that the adept faints at the climax of his
“vision” and needs an angel to be revived). The first microform ends with another
attempt of the angels — addressed not to God but to Metatron, who is suddenly
called, without further explanation, na ‘ar (“youth”)**° — to question Ishmael’s
peo-
presence in heaven. Only when Metatron explains to them that he is from the
ple of Israel and a descendant of Aaron (that is, a priest) do the angels conclude
similar to
that he is “certainly worthy to behold the Merkavah.” This phrase is
Zutarti,>>* but whereas there
the one used in Hekhalot Rabbati**” and Hekhalot
tests, here it is just his lineage,
the adept’s worthiness depends on his passing the
in particular his priesthood, that makes him a worthy candidate.**?
’s ascent. There
This is, more or less, what we learn in 3 Enoch about Ishmael
cry from the as-
can be no doubt that his is a heavily pruned-back ascent, a far
reduced mainly to
cent accounts in Hekhalot Rabbati and Zutarti. The ascent is
Ishmael ’s heavenly
the framework of the major narrative about Metatron and
followi his rou-
ng
journey in the style of the ancient apocalypses. Immediately
It is only much later that
tine ascent the text moves to Metatron and his story.
after several complicated
Ishmael gets some attention again (§§ 59-70), when,
angelic hierarch ies, Metatro n suddenly offers to
and confusing sections about the
introduced by “Come
give Ishmael a sightseeing tour of heaven (stereotypically
he took me by his hand, lifted me up
and I will show you ... I went with him,

above, p. 277. Again, we have here a faint echo

gether with Dumiel, in Hekhalot Rabbati; see
of what happens in Hekhalot Rabbati.
336 The explanation follows in § 6; see below, pp. 319f.
337 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 258 i. '
338 Thid., §§ 407f. priest hood plays an import ant
where the
339 Another echo of the apocalyptic literature,
role.
 318 Chapter 8

on his wings and showed me’’). Ishmael sees the letters with which heaven and
earth were created,**° the heavenly storehouses and marvels of the elements of
nature,*! the souls of the righteous,**” of the wicked and the intermediate,*** the
souls of the fathers of the world,**4 the curtain before God’s throne in which are
woven all the generations of the world with all their deeds,**° the stars and their
names,*“° the souls of the angels who were burned because they did not sing the
Qedushah properly,**’ and finally the right hand of God, which he conceals be-
hind his back because of the destruction of the Temple and will bring out in the
future when he redeems Israel.*48
Clearly, what Ishmael sees here during his heavenly sightseeing tour has noth-
ing to do with the ascent in the other Hekhalot texts, somewhat clumsily alluded
to in the first paragraphs of the macroform. It is an imitation of the apocalyptic
heavenly journey, with Ishmael as the visionary and Metatron as his angelus in-
terpres (“angelic interpreter”). Ishmael does not see God on his throne but the
marvels of heaven and, in particular, the history of the people of Israel — with
each individual accountable for his deeds and history culminating in God’s
overwhelming mercy leading to the ultimate redemption. Even the Messiah ap-
pears in his double manifestation as the Messiah b. Joseph and the Messiah b.
David,*”? but in the end it is God, and God alone, who redeems his people.*°

2. Enoch Is Metatron

As we have seen, the outstanding importance of Metatron in this macroform

has been made clear from the very beginning, as has the fact that Metatron is

$40 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 59.

341 Thid., § 60.
Ibid., § 61: they hover above the throne of glory.
343 Tbid., § 62.
344 Thid., § 63.
45 Thid., §§ 64f.
346 Tbid., § 66.
$47. Thid.§67.
*8 Thid., §§ 68-70. With this the core of 3 Enoch ends. What follows (§§ 71-80)
are mainly
sections about Metatron (some of which summarize what has
been said about him before);
their affiliation to 3 Enoch is disputed. On the motif of God’s right hand/arm,
see in particular
Michael Fishbane, “Arm of the Lord: Biblical Myth, Rabbinic Midrash,
and the Mystery of
History,” in Samuel E. Balentine and John Barton, eds., Language, Theology,
and the Bible:
Essays in Honour of James Barr (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994),
pp. 271-292; see also Re-
becca Lesses, “Eschatological Sorrow, Divine Weeping, and God’s
Right Arm,” in DeConick,
Paradise Now, pp. 265-283. Lesses’s essay suffers from a complete
ignorance of the relevant
pag in ee not only on 3 Enoch but also on God’s mourning
and weeping; for the lat-
ter, see Peter , Gottes Trauer und Klage in der rabbinischen U3 j
Midrasch) (Leiden: Brill, 1978). - ; maine ripe
°° Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 65 and 70.
350 Tbid., § 69.
 The Merkavah Mystics 319

none other than the enigmatic antediluvian figure, the son of Jared and father of
Methuselah, who lived 365 years, at which point he finally disappeared from the
earth because “God took him” (Gen. 5:21—24). Now we learn more about him
(§§ 440). After Ishmael has been admitted to the vision of the Merkavah (§ 3)
nothing of what we would expect happens; rather, he turns to Metatron and asks
for his name (§ 4). Metatron reveals that he has seventy names (which are listed
much later, in § 76), that these names correspond to the name of God, and that
God calls him na ‘ar (“youth”). Since this is not much of an answer, Metatron
goes on to explain that he is indeed Enoch, the son of Jared, who was taken up
by God into heaven because of the sins of the generation of the deluge and trans-
formed into an angel (§ 5). When the other angels in heaven opposed the ascent
- of a human being, God rebuked them (§ 6):
Who are you that you claim for yourself the right to interrupt me? I find more pleasure
in him [Enoch] than in all of you, to be a prince and a ruler over you in the heavenly
heights!

The angels have no choice but to give in and greet Enoch as the youngest mem-
ber of their exquisite club — hence, this is Metatron’s explanation for Ishmael,
his name “youth.”35! After inserting some earlier material about the idolatry of
Enosh and his generation and God’s subsequent removal of his Shekhinah from
the earth (§§ 7-8),3°2 the editor reveals more details about Enoch’s ascent to
heaven. It is the angel Anafiel, we are now told, who took him up to heaven in
a “fiery chariot with fiery horses” — the same Anafiel whom we encountered in
Hekhalot Rabbati as the one who opens the gate to the seventh palace (§ 247),
but the chariot and horses of fire are inspired by Elijah’s ascent to heaven
(2 Kings 2:11) and not by the Hekhalot literature. When the holy creatures
of a
and all the angels around the Merkavah smell the presence of “one born
(muvhar)
woman,” God explains to them that this human being is “the choicest
(§ 9).
of them all,” God’s “sole reward” from his world under the whole heaven
serve the
He is elevated immediately to the seventh heaven and stationed there to
of transfor-
throne of glory (§ 10). But before he can begin his service, a process

n, made
351 Whateve r the “real” explanation might be. I am not convinced by the suggestio
in the same sense as na‘ar in
repeatedly by Orlov, that “youth” is used as a title in 2 Enoch
From Apocalyp ticism to Merkaba h Mysticism: Studies in the
3 Enoch; see Andrei A. Orlov,
141 ff. James Davila has ventured the inter-
Slavonic Pseudepigrapha (Leiden: Brill, 2007), pp.
fact, the title “youth” had originall y nothing to do with Metatron but was at-
esting idea that, in see his “Mel-
celestial high priest and divine mediator;
tached to the figure of Melchizedek, the
, the ‘Youth,’ and Jesus,” in James R. Davila, ed., The Dead Sea Scrolls as Background
chizedek
Brill, 2003), pp. 248-274.
to Postbiblical Judaism and Early Christianity (Leiden:
ienst des Enosh: Zur Bildung
352 On the Enosh traditions, see Peter Schafer, “Der Gétzend
cher Traditi onen im nachbib lischen Judentu m,” in idem, Studien zur
und Entwicklung aggadis ;
ms (Leiden: Brill, 1978), pp. 134-152
Geschichte und Theologie des rabbinischen Judentu ical
Steven D. Fraade, Enosh and HisGeneration: Pre-Israelite Hero and History in Postbibl
Interpretation (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1984).
 320 Chapter 8

mation needs to take place, and this is described in great detail: he is infused with
divine wisdom (§ 11), enlarged and increased in size to enormous dimensions,
and equipped with seventy-two wings and 365,000 eyes (§ 12). Then God pro-
vides him with a throne similar to his own throne of glory, placed at the entrance
of the seventh palace, and has a herald announce that he is appointed God’s serv-
ant as prince and ruler over all the heavenly forces. All the angels and princes of
heaven are admonished (§ 13):
Any angel and any prince who has anything to say in my [God’s] presence should go
before him and speak to him. Whatever he says to you in my name you must observe
and do.

So Metatron becomes God’s representative in heaven, his deputy and second

in charge. Since he understands not only all the secrets of creation but also the
“thoughts of men’s hearts” (§ 14),*°? we might even conclude that not only the
angels but also human beings are well advised to turn to him as the deputy and
representative of God.
His transformation not yet finished, God fashions for him a majestic robe and
a kingly crown and calls him his “Lesser YHWH (YHWY ha-qatan) ... because it
is written: My name is in him (Ex. 23:21).”354 He inscribes on Metatron’s crown
the letters by which heaven and earth were created (§ 16), and all the angels in
heaven fall prostrate when they see his majesty and splendor (§ 18). And then
comes the ultimate transformation (§ 19):
At once my flesh turned to flame,
my sinews to blazing fire,
my bones to juniper coals,
my eyelashes to lightning flashes,
my eyeballs to fiery torches,
the hairs of my head to hot flames,
all my limbs to wings of burning fire,
and the trunk of my body to blazing fire.

In order to be transformed from the human being Enoch into Metatron, the high-
est angel in heaven, Enoch’s human existence must be annihilated and turned
into an angelic being of fiery substance. This procedure is reminiscent of some of
the apocalyptic texts I have discussed above,>* but in none of these apocalypses
does an angel come as close to God — not just in distance but also in his physi-
cal appearance and, above all, his rank — as does Metatron in the macrofor
m
3 Enoch: he is enthroned (almost) like God, he looks (almost) like God,
he has

353 Quite similar to what is said about the adept in the Gedullah
hymns in Hekhalot Rabbati
(Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 83 ff.), but whereas there
the hero is a human being, here
the hero is a human being turned into an angel.
34 Using the well-known biblical proof text; see above, p. 296,
n. 222.
455 See pp..76, 82f., 97, 102.
 The Merkavah Mystics 321

(almost) the same name as God, he knows all the heavenly and earthly secrets,
including the thoughts of human beings, and he is worshiped (almost) like God.
In sum, he is the perfect viceroy, who acts on behalf of God and to whom God
has given unlimited power.
The status and power assigned to Enoch-Metatron in 3 Enoch is unprece-
dented*** — to such an extent that the editor of our macroform found it necessary
to include some outspoken anti-Enoch material. Rabbinic Judaism was rather
critical of attempts to elevate Enoch (some positive statements notwithstand-
ing), apparently in reaction to the earlier pseudepigraphical Enoch traditions.*°’
A case in point is a midrash in Bereshit Rabbah that the editor of Ms. Oxford
1572 inserted in paragraph 8:
Enoch walked with God. And he was not,*>* for God took him (Gen. 5:24).
R. Hama b. R. Hoshayah said: (“And he was not” means) that he was not
inscribed in the books of the righteous but in the books of the wicked.
R. Aibo said: Enoch was a hypocrite, acting sometimes as a righteous,
sometimes as a wicked man. (Therefore) the Holy One, Blessed be He,
said: While he is (still) righteous I will remove him from the world.
R. Aibo (also) said: He judged (that is, condemned) him on New Year, when
he judges the whole world.3°?

This is the perfect counter-narrative to 3 Enoch. The first explanation of

Gen. 5:24 by R. Hama b. R. Hoshayah — a rather insignificant Palestinian rabbi,
allegedly the son of R. Hoshayah (Rabbah), the Palestinian Amora of the first
generation — quite nastily understands the biblical “he was not” (in the sense
of “he was no more found on earth”) as “he was not found in the books of the
righteous”; that is, he was wicked. R. Aibo, a much later Palestinian Amora of

356 Piet van der Horst has made the intriguing suggestion that Moses’s dream vision related
o Evan-
in Ezekiel the Dramatist’s Exagdgé (quoted in the ninth book of Eusebius’s Praeparati
be regarded as an early — that is, second century BCE — version of Merkavah
gelica) ought to
see Pieter W. van
mysticism, more concretely of Enoch-Metatron’s enthronement in 3 Enoch;
Horst, “Moses’ Throne Vision in Ezekiel the Dramatist, ” JJS 34 (1983), pp. 21-29 (repr.
der
But as van der Horst
in idem, Essays on the Jewish World of Early Christianity, pp. 63-71).
Ezekiel the Dramatist
himself points out, the differences are greater than the similarities: in
Hekhalot literature, let alone in
the hero is Moses, not Enoch or Metatron, and nowhere in the
in Ezekiel the Dramatist. Fur-
3 Enoch, does Moses play a role comparable to the role he plays
unlike 3 Enoch, there is only one throne in Ezekiel, namely, God’s throne, and Moses
thermore,
don’t think that Ezekiel the
is asked to be seated on it alone (God leaves his throne). I therefore
s drama, or what has remained of it, reflects an earlier stage of what would become
Dramatist’
dich zu meiner Rechten!’ Die
Merkavah mysticism. On this, see also Martin Hengel, “‘Setze
1 10,1,” in idem, Studien zur Christologie:
Inthronisation Christi zur Rechten Gottes und Psalm
IV, ed. Claus-Jirg en Thornton (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006), pp. 338 f.
Kleine Schriften
(originally published in 1993).
er, “From Son of Adam to Second
357 See Reed, Fallen Angels, pp. 136 ff.; see also Alexand
God,” pp. 108 ff.
it. for “then he was no more,” as translated above.
358 T
359 Bereshit Rabbah 25:1.
322 Chapter 8

the fourth generation, makes him a hypocrite who wavers between righteousness
and wickedness and has him finally be condemned — obviously because of his
wickedness — quite fittingly on New Year.
Even more conspicuous is the addition that made it into most of the manu-
scripts of 3 Enoch. Following his transformation, Enoch is described as seated
on his throne and judging the angels in heaven (§ 20). This fits in well with
what we have heard before. But then suddenly Aher appears, the arch-heretic
known from talmudic sources,*° who sees Metatron in all his glory sitting on
his throne and concludes from his majestic appearance that “there are indeed
two powers in heaven!” Immediately God sends out the angel Anafiel to punish
Metatron with sixty lashes of fire and to make him stand on his feet.*°! It has
long been noticed that the close parallel in the Babylonian Talmud?” may well
have been the origin of this story and that the version in 3 Enoch is a secondary
addition, aimed at minimizing Metatron’s role.*® Irrespective of when and by
whom these stories were added — plainly contradicting the main message of the
macroform — it remains remarkable that this message was deemed so dangerous
that some editors could not resist the temptation of sneaking a counter message
into the very core of 3 Enoch.
What, then, was so dangerous about Metatron’s elevation to the “Lesser
YHWH”? Scholars normally resort to the danger inflicted on Judaism as a
“monotheistic religion.”*“ This is true enough, but what precisely does it mean?
“Monotheism” is a notoriously vague category that has never been monolithic
and easy to define, neither in the Hebrew Bible nor in the subsequent Jewish
tradition. I believe we can go a step further. Metatron was elevated by God to
the highest angel in heaven, superior to all the other angels, and sharing with
God all the divine attributes (name, size, throne, wisdom, and so forth). The
uneasiness with which some (later) editors of 3 Enoch addressed this message
serves only to reinforce its uniqueness. There is only one other figure on whom
similar qualities are lavished: Jesus Christ. And indeed, some scholars have in-
vested great effort into discovering some kind of heavenly Makro-Anthropos
in the Second Temple period that prefigured the New Testament Jesus and that
might be connected with Jewish speculations that came fully to the force in

360 See above, p. 234.

361 Aher is also punished, but almost in passing: he is denied repentance.
362 b Hagigah 15a; see the detailed comparison of the Bavli and the Hekhalot versions above,
chapter 7, pp. 234 ff. The parallel version in Ms. New York 8128 (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Li
te-
ratur, § 672) comes even closer to the Bavli version than our text in the 3 Enoch
manuscripts;
see the synoptic translation in Ubersetzung der Hekhalot-Literatur, vol. 1, pp. 46-48.
See also
the Metatron stories in b Sanhedrin 38a and b Avodah Zarah 3b.
363 Philip Alexander, “3 Enoch and the Talmud,” pp. 54-66; id., “3
(Hebrew Apocalypse
of) Enoch,” p. 268, n.a. ;
364 See, e. g., most recently Alan Segal, “Religious Experience and the
Construction of the
Transcendent Self,” in DeConick, Paradise Now, p. 29.
 The Merkavah Mystics 323

3 Enoch.*® Others, most notably Daniel Boyarin, wish to go a step further and
see in Metatron a representative of the so-called “binitarian’” theology, that is,
a theology, within the very heart of early (pre-Christian) Judaism, that devel-
ops the notion of two divine powers sharing among them the “divinity” (most
prominently the hypostasized “Wisdom” and “Logos”). It is not the place here
to discuss Jewish binitarianism, but whereas there can be no doubt in my view
that pre-Christian Judaism (and not only Philo) was indeed sympathetic to such
ideas and that the Christian adaptation of Wisdom and Logos speculations put
an end to this sympathy,* I do not think that Metatron belongs to this illustri-
ous company. It may be tempting to argue (as Boyarin does — and repeats like a
mantra) that the original meaning of Metatron, the “youth,” is the “younger God”
versus the “Old of Days” in Daniel and hence identical with the “Son of Man” in
Daniel and, indeed, the “Son of God” in the Prologue of the Gospel of John,*°’

365 Stroumsa, “Form(s) of God”; Jarl E. Fossum, The Name of God and the Angel of the
Lord: Samaritan and Jewish Concepts of Intermediation and the Origin of Gnosticism (Ti-
bingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1985), pp. 266-291; April D. DeConick, “What Is Early
in Jewish and Christian Mysticism?” p. 19; Davila, “Melchizedek, the ‘Youth,’ and Jesus,”
pp. 267 ff.; Idel, Ben, pp. 108 ff.
366 See Daniel Boyarin, “The Gospel of the Memra: Jewish Binitarianism and the Prologue
to John,” HTR 94 (2001), pp. 243-284; idem, “Two Powers in Heaven; or, The Making of a
Heresy,’’sin.Hindy Najman and Judith H. Newman, eds., The Idea of Biblical Interpretation:
Essays in Honor of James L. Kugel (Leiden: Brill, 2004), pp. 331-370.
367 See Boyarin, “The Gospel of the Memra,” p. 253, n. 35; more explicit in “Two Powers
in Heaven,” pp. 353 f. There he resorts to “the late-ancient mystical text, known as the ‘Visions
of Ezekiel,’” where Metatron “is posited on the grounds of Dan 7:9 f.” I am not sure what “late-
ancient mystical” means here, but assuredly the Re’uyot Yehezqel are late and not particularly
mystical (see the best analysis of this enigmatic text by Goldberg, “Pereq Re’uyot Yehezqe’el:
Eine formanalytische Untersuchung,” in Mystik und Theologie des rabbinischen Judentums,
vol. 1, pp. 93-147). Boyarin then boldly connects that “late-ancient mystical text” with 3 Enoch
and the Gospel of John: “This is the same figure who in other texts of that genre is called “The
Youth,’ na ‘ar, i.e., that figure known by other Jews (e. g., the Fourth Evangelist) as the “Son of
Man’!” I presume by “other texts of that genre” he means 3 Enoch, although it is the only text
that mentions the na ‘ar (unless he wants to follow Orlov; see above, p. 319, n. 351), and is cer-
tainly not of the same genre as the “Visions of Ezekiel.” This hazardous combination of rather
diverse pieces of “evidence” leads to the final conclusion (inspired by Segal, Two Powers in
Heaven, p. 67, n. 24): “Putting together the bits and pieces that other scholars have constructed
into a new mosaic, I would suggest that we have a very important clue here to follow. From the
text in Daniel it would seem clear that there are two divine figures pictured, one who is ancient
and another one who is young. ‘Son of Man’ here in its paradigmatic contrast with the Ancient
of Days should be read as youth, young man. ... We end up with a clear indication of a second
divine person, called the Youth (Son of Man), about whom it can be discussed whether he is
homoousios, homoiousios, homoion, ot anomoion with the first person.” No wonder that soon
after this excursion into the intricacies of Christian dogmatic speculations he succumbs to the
temptation of calling the Ancient of Days “Father” and the Youth “Son” (ibid., p. 354). This is
more or less repeated now in Daniel Boyarin, “The Parables of Enoch and the Foundation of
the Rabbinic Sect: A Hypothesis,” in Mauro Perani, ed., “The Words of a Wise Man's Mouth
Are Gracious” (Ooh 10,12): Festschrift for Giinter Stemberger on the Occasion of His 65th
Birthday (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2005), pp. 62f. I will return to this problem in my forth-
See now
coming book, tentatively titled The Unity and Diversity of God in Rabbinic Judaism.
 324 Chapter 8

but there is no proof whatsoever for such a link between Daniel, the Gospel of
John, and 3 Enoch. The title YHWH ha-qatan is unique to 3 Enoch and needs to
be explained first and foremost within the parameters of the historical setting of
3 Enoch — unless one wants to claim that this particular tradition is much older
than the rest of the material collected in 3 Enoch (which would be very difficult,
to say the least) or to conjure up the chimera of “phenomenological” versus
“historical” evidence.
If we take the rather late date of 3 Enoch seriously and do not ignore the
chronological and geographic setting of the macroform,** the most obvious
source of comparison is clearly the New Testament. There is every reason to be-
lieve that the Babylonian Jews knew the New Testament, either directly, through
the Diatessaron (the “Harmony” of the four Gospels composed by Tatian, most
likely in Syriac) or the New Testament Peshitta (the Syriac translation of the four
separate Gospels), or indirectly, through the medium of Syrian Church Fathers
such as Aphrahat or Ephrem;* after all, Syriac and Babylonian Aramaic are
closely related Aramaic dialects. Hence, I would like to turn the tables and sug-
gest that instead of seeing 3 Enoch’s Metatron as part of the fabric from which
the New Testament Jesus emerged?” we try to understand the figure of Metatron
as an answer to the New Testament’s message of Jesus Christ. In this context,
Guy Stroumsa has drawn our attention to the famous hymn in Paul’s letter to the
Philippians,*’! where it is said of Jesus (Phil. 2:6—11) that he
(6) though he was in the form of God (en morphé theou),
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,

also Mark S. Smith, God in Translation: Deities in Cross-Cultural Discourse in the Biblical
World (Tiibingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), pp. 294 ff.
*68 Acknowledged even by Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, pp. 63 and 65. Chester, Messiah
and Exaltation, p. 68, makes the remarkable statement: “In contrast to the view that it {3 Enoch]
represents a late stage of the Hekhalot tradition [in a footnote he refers to my Hekhalot-Studien],
however, it has been argued with some plausibility that it is in important respects different from
the other Hekhalot traditions, and stands much closer to those found in apocalyptic texts.” No
one would deny that 3 Enoch, in terms of style and content, is different from the other Hekhalot
traditions and closer to the apocalyptic texts, on the contrary — but does this necessarily
mean
that 3 Enoch is chronologically close to the classical apocalypses?
369 On this, see the discussion in my book, Jesus in the Talmud (Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press, 2007), especially pp. 122 ff.
*7° James Davila also takes it for granted that we can use 3 Enoch (together with the
other
Enochic texts, in particular the Similitudes) as evidence for the makeup of the Jesus
figure in the
New Testament; see his “Of Methodology, Monotheism and Metatron: Introducto
ry Reflections
on Divine Mediators and the Origins of the Worship of Jesus,” in Carey C. Newman,
James R.
Davila, and Gladys S. Lewis, eds., The Jewish Roots of Christological Monotheis
m: Papers
from the St. Andrews Conference on the Historical Origins of the Worship
of Jesus (Leiden:
Brill, 1999), pp. 14 ff.
371 Stroumsa, “Form(s) of God,” pp. 282 ff.
 The Merkavah Mystics 325

(7) but emptied himself,

taking the form of a servant (morphén doulou),
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
(8) he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death —
even death on a cross.
(9) Therefore God also highly exalted him (hyperypsdsen)
and bestowed on him the name
that is above every name (to onoma to hyper pan onoma),
(10) so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
(11) and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the father.
If we read this text in light of the Metatron traditions in 3 Enoch, some striking
parallels become apparent — and some no less conspicuous differences. Christ,
though conceived of in the “form of God,” did not insist on his equality with God
but rather assumed the “form of a servant (or slave)” and hence of a human being.
After he died, God exalted him, that is, raised him from the dead, gave him the
name “above every name,” whereupon all heavenly and earthly beings worshi-
ped him and acknowledged him as the “Lord.” The movement here is from the
top down (from Christ’s divine existence to his human form) and then again from
the bottom up (from his human existence back to his original divine form). The
latter movement is caused by God, exalting Jesus after his death and bestowing
on him the most powerful name, that is, the name of the Lord. In Metatron’s case
there is only one movement, from the bottom up: he begins as a human being
that, however, does not die but is exalted by God to heaven to assume there his
angelic and almost divine function as God’s deputy and viceroy, appearing in the
form and with the attributes of God, bearing God’s name, and worshiped by the
angels. Ironically, it is in this state that he is called, together with the name of
God, “servant.” Hence, despite the similarities, the Metatron tradition suggests a
dramatic reversal of the New Testament narrative. We do have a God-like figure,
it posits, but this figure did not first originate in heaven and then relinquish its
divinity in order to become human; on the contrary, this figure was fully human
and chosen by God to be transformed into a divine being and to assume its func-
tion as God’s servant and as the judge of angels and humans alike.
Another noticeable parallel appears in the letter to the Hebrews (Hebr. 1:
3-4):
(3) He [Jesus] is a reflection of God’s glory (apaugasma tés doxés)
and the exact imprint of God’s very being (charaktér tés hypostaseos autou),
and he sustains all things by his powerful word.
When he had made purification for sins,
326 Chapter 8

he sat down at the right hand of the majesty on high,

(4) having become as much superior to angels (kreitton genomenos ton
anggelon) ;
as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.

Here Jesus is conceived as God’s reflection and hypostasis — in a language obvi-

ously derived from the Jewish Wisdom speculation, as we know it in particular
from the female figure in Proverbs 877” — who returns to his divine origin after
having purified humanity from their sins. Upon his return to heaven, God assigns
to him a throne next to him and a special name (presumably the name of God).
Both these qualities mark him as superior to all the angels, and the text contin-
ues to stress precisely this superiority: God calls him alone “my son” (v. 5),°”
the angels are asked to worship him (v. 6),°”4 his throne is forever (v. 8),*”° he
will remain forever (v. 11),>” and he is asked to sit at God’s right hand (v. 13).37’
The analogies and differences are very similar to those in the letter to the Philip-
pians, though with a closer parallel here between Jesus’s and Metatron’s supe-
riority to the angels.
So one could ultimately argue that Metatron indeed adopts the role of Jesus
Christ, yet without the mythical and — for the Jewish reader — unacceptable pack-
age deal of Jesus’s divine origin and human birth, let alone his cruel death on
the cross. The savior quality of that divine figure, so dominant in the New Tes-
tament, is no doubt also present in the Metatron tradition: Metatron knows, and
apparently judges, all the secrets in the hearts of his former fellow humans on
earth (§ 14). This function of Metatron obviously stands in tension to the tradi-
tional role of the Messiah that does appear, as we have seen, in the latter part of
3 Enoch. But this tension seems to be deliberate (the macroform wants to have
it both ways: the traditional messianic expectation as well as Metatron’s new
role), just as it was in Hekhalot Rabbati, where the Merkavah mystic assumed
Messiah-like qualities (and some editors, by adding more conventional apoca-
lyptic material, tried to retain the customary messianic expectation). To some
extent, Metatron’s powerful figure in 3 Enoch — responding, as I propose, to the
Christian message — completes and concludes the movement of the Merkavah
mystics: the ascent to heaven of some individuals has become unnecessary, or
rather was replaced by that unique human being who ascended to heaven and
then did not return but stayed there forever. With Metatron in heaven, there is no
longer any need to send human representatives to heaven to assure the earthly

*? See Schafer, Mirror of His Beauty, pp. 23 ff.; Wisdom as apaugasma in Wisdom of Solo-
mon 7:26 (Mirror of His Beauty, p. 35).
373 Referring to Ps. 2:7; 2 Sam. 7:14.
374 Referring to Deut. 32:43 (only in the LXX, not in the Masoretic text).
375 Referring to Ps. 45:6 (the throne there is God’s throne!).
376 Referring to Ps. 102:26.
377 Referring to Ps. 110:1.
 The Merkavah Mystics 327

community of God’s continual love for Israel. Not unlike the Christians, 3 Enoch
claims, we now have our own representative forever in heaven to take care of
us — until the end of time, when the Savior will return to us.

Summary

We have followed the convoluted ways of the Merkavah mystics as they ap-
pear in the macroforms Hekhalot Rabbati, Hekhalot Zutarti, Shi‘ur Qomah, and
3 Enoch, with special emphasis on the various redactional layers of the respec-
tive microforms. The first Hekhalot Rabbati microform, the Gedullah hymns,
focuses on the elevated status of the mystic, praising him as the chosen human
being who undertakes his heavenly journey in order to see God on his throne in
the celestial Temple. In achieving this goal he joins the rank of the angels and is
placed at the right side of or, alternatively, opposite God’s throne and observes
what is happening in heaven: the liturgy of the angels and, more important, what
will happen to the people of Israel in the future. In this capacity, the mystic car-
ries the knowledge of Israel’s future history with him and brings it back to the
earthly community. So the purpose of his ascent is neither an end in itself nor
does it aim at his personal gratification (there is no indication whatsoever of
God’s physical appearance, let alone of a union between the mystic and his mas-
ter); rather, it is geared toward the community that has sent him up to heaven.
However, in the Gedullah hymns — and this is one of the peculiar characteristics
of the microform — the earthly community does not accept the mystic’s knowl-
edge unanimously. On the contrary, since he knows not only Israel’s future his-
tory but also the social makeup of the earthly community, with all the hidden
deeds and halakhic (im)purity of his fellow Jews, he is met with considerable
opposition. Nevertheless, God approves of his mission and raises him to a quasi-
messianic status, assigning to him the role of the messenger-angel Elijah as the
precursor of the Messiah.
The Qedushah hymns describe the heavenly throne ritual, as performed by the
angelic hosts, that culminates in the terrifying vision not so much of God but of
the gown worn by God, covered with various manifestations of the divine name.
Despite the emphasis put on the angels, it becomes clear that the Merkavah mys-
tics as the representatives of all human beings are included in this vision.
The following microform, the Ten Martyrs Narrative, provides the counterpart
to the Gedullah hymns. Whereas the Gedullah hymns highlight the superiority of
the Merkavah mystic to his fellow Jews, the Ten Martyrs Narrative underscores
his superiority to the outside enemy, the Roman Empire. Integrated into an as-
cent account, the Ten Martyrs Narrative in its Merkavah mystical garb aims at
proving that R. Ishmael, one of the ten martyrs and the hero of Hekhalot Rab-
bati’s ascent accounts, belongs to the rabbinical elite.
328 Chapter 8

With the two apocalypses incorporated into Hekhalot Rabbati, the editor tries
to make up for the apparent lack of the traditional concept of the Messiah in all
the other microforms of Hekhalot Rabbati. In strong resemblance to the classi-
cal apocalypses, he reintroduces the Davidic Messiah as the leader of the final
battle against the nations with the resuscitation of the dead and the Messiah’s
and Israel’s ultimate victory.
Another set of Qedushah hymns and hymns of praise centers on God’s prefer-
ence for Israel over the angels. It begins by describing the extraordinary and at
the same time destructive beauty of God’s face and making clear from the outset
that the angels cannot bear it. In stark contrast to the angels’ inability, the hymns
turn to Israel (that is, the community on earth and the Merkavah mystic as the
earthly community’s representative) and point out that God and Israel, during
Israel’s Qedushah prayer in the synagogues, look directly into each other’s eyes,
and that the Merkavah mystic witnesses this intimate exchange between God and
his people in heaven — to reassure Israel of God’s continuous love for them. In
a dramatic scene, the mystic sees how God displays his overwhelming love to
the image of Jacob engraved on his throne. In unambiguous terms, taking into
consideration the unique status of the holy creatures in Hekhalot Rabbati and the
praise lavished on them, the microform goes out of its way to emphasize Israel’s
superiority even to the holy creatures. When they court their master, in unmis-
takably sexual gestures, God rejects their courtship, because his real love is for
Israel and not for the beloved creatures that carry his throne. Hence, in an almost
ironical conclusion, the angels, who are known for their jealousy and rivalry to-
ward Israel, must give in and acknowledge Israel’s superiority.
The editor of Hekhalot Rabbati has collected under the umbrella of the macro-
form a number of ascent accounts or fragments of ascent accounts that are only
loosely connected and often interrupted by other material. The first such account,
the famous havurah account, restricts the ascent to the members of a fictitious
rabbinic fellowship, the havurah, consisting of ten rabbis with R. Ishmael at their
head (despite the editor’s initial assertion that almost “anybody” can undertake
the ascent) and set up in a no less fictitious Temple scenery. The second account,
pretending to be the continuation of the first one, introduces strong elements of
magical adjuration into the procedure of the ascent. The names of the guard-
ian angels at the entrances of the heavenly palaces become the most important
magical tool for achieving a successful ascent. Having reached his goal, the mys-
tic — despite the promise that he will see an awesome vision — bursts into praise
of God and joins in with the heavenly liturgy of the angels. The heavenly liturgy
with its earthly counterpart replaces the redemption and makes the traditional
Messiah superfluous.
The third account is focused on the magical seals, with the names of God
and his highest angel, to be shown at the entrances of the heavenly palaces. In
addition to the seals, however, the mystic must prove his Torah knowledge in
 The Merkavah Mystics 329

the traditional rabbinic sense of the word. Fortified with both magical tools and
Torah knowledge, the successful mystic reaches his goal — God on his throne in
the upmost heaven — and takes his seat together with the highest angels and the
holy creatures. But no description of God on his throne follows. Again, the anti-
climactic message of this account is that the mystic participates in the heavenly
liturgy. The ascent account is interrupted by the so-called recall of R. Nehunya
b. Haqanah from his vision of the Merkavah, which is the only clear passage in
the entire corpus of the Hekhalot literature that suggests a distinction between
the mystic’s body and soul: apparently, Nehunya b. Haqanah’s ascent was solely
a mental experience, with his body remaining among the members of the havu-
rah on earth. I have suggested not overemphasizing this episode, which is not
only unique but also interpolated by the editor into the instruction regarding the
seals,
The fourth and last fragment of an ascent account provides the members of the
havurah with the proper seals for the entrance into the seventh palace (left out in
the previous account), supplemented with the names of the palace’s guardian an-
gels. Standing before the throne of glory, the mystic again intones a hymn — with
no vision of God communicated.
The microforms assembled in Hekhalot Zutarti are even more diverse than
those we encountered in Hekhalot Rabbati. The hero is now R. Agiva, and the
magical use of God’s names takes center-stage. The ascent to the Merkavah
reveals the name(s) that can be taught to Aqiva’s students and used by them
for magical purposes. Hence, Merkavah mysticism becomes an esoteric disci-
pline — reserved for an elite — that ultimately takes shape in a book. Even the
explicit question of whether one can see God resorts to God’s name and in fact
concludes that seeing God consists in knowing his name. The heavenly liturgy
as the climax of the ascent in Hekhalot Rabbati does not play a significant role
in Hekhalot Zutarti. The macroform’s ascent accounts are saturated with the edi-
tor’s predilection for God’s names.
The Metatron microform in Hekhalot Zutarti is unique to the New York manu-
script. Hence, it is most likely a later addition that apparently makes use of some
form of the 3 Enoch macroform. As to be expected in Hekhalot Zutarti, it fo-
cuses on the names of God and of Metatron, whose name is like God’s name.
Often the names of God and of Metatron become interchangeable, and it is not
always clear who is being addressed. In his exceptional status Metatron is el-
evated above all the other angels, including the holy creatures (who are even not
allowed to hear God’s ineffable name).
The brief microform containing a version of the famous water test followed by
an ascent account presents a peculiar blend of Hekhalot Rabbati- and Hekhalot
Zutarti-type material. Characteristic of the former is a long litany praising God
as king as the ascent’s climax, and characteristic of the latter is a successful ad-
juration of the angels as the culmination of the mystic’s endeavors. For the edi-
330 Chapter 8

tor of Hekhalot Zutarti, the ascent to the Merkavah has become a discipline, put
down in a book, that guarantees successful magical adjurations. The circle of
recipients of the message is broadened to include not only students of R. Aqiva
but in fact anyone who is able to learn and understand the book. The ascent has
turned into an adjuration (with the proper preparatory ritual applied to it) that
is accessible to everybody who knows how to carry it out. The concluding two
microforms of Hekhalot Zutarti continue and explain in greater detail the mac-
roform’s editor’s emphasis on the book and the use of the names.
The same is true for the Shi‘ur Qomah macroform, incorporated in the
Merkavah Rabbah macroform and preserved as a macroform of its own in Ms.
Munich 40: it reveals not only the size of God’s limbs (given in Persian miles,
and hence pointing to a Babylonian context) but also the limbs’ names, with the
latter clearly being presented as the crucial part of the Shi‘ur Qomah tradition.
In contrast to Scholem and his followers, I do not see any reason to believe that
the Shi‘ur Qomah tradition as we have it in the Hekhalot literature emerged from
exegesis of the biblical Song of Songs; nor do I think it has been proved that
it must be regarded as essential for Merkavah mystical speculations because it
is a particularly old layer of the Hekhalot literature. Nowhere in the Hekhalot
literature is the description of God’s body directly linked to the vision of the
Merkavah mystic.
3 Enoch, the last macroform discussed in the chapter, belongs to the latest
layer of the Hekhalot literature, compiled in Babylonia some time between 700
and 900 cE. With its concern with the Shekhinah and the traditional Messiah, it
rerabbinizes the Hekhalot literature, and with its focus on the heavenly journey
of its hero accompanied by an angelus interpres (as opposed to the Merkavah
mystical ascent account), it redirects Merkavah mysticism to classical apocalyp-
tical patterns. Apart from Ishmael’s truncated ascent, it is mainly occupied with
Enoch, who was transformed into the highest angel, Metatron — the na ‘ar and
YHWH ha-qatan — who becomes God’s viceroy with unlimited power, elevated
over and above angels and human beings alike. The opposition to the unprec-
edented authority assigned to Metatron (which even found its way into the mac-
roform) serves only to underline his unique status. Against the recent trend in
scholarship to connect 3 Enoch’s Metatron with the Enoch of 1 and 2 Enoch and
to see this amalgam of Enochic traditions as the hotbed of early Jewish as well
as Christian binitarian speculations, I am inclined to locate 3 Enoch’s (as well as
the rabbis’) Metatron in the cultural context of (late) Babylonian Judaism and to
regard it as a response to the New Testament message of Jesus Christ.
 Chapter 9

Conclusions

We have made a long journey through quite a diverse body of literature, from
Ezekiel’s vision of God in the open heaven through the ascent to heaven of a few
chosen individuals (Enoch, Levi, Abraham, Isaiah, Zephaniah, and John), the
communion of human beings and angels in the Qumran community, the ascent
of the human soul to its divine origin in Philo, and the exegetical exercises of the
rabbis as their vehicle for approaching God, to the experiences of the Merkavah
mystics as described in the Hekhalot literature. In this concluding chapter I sum-
marize the major phenomena, motifs, and concepts as they appear in the respec-
tive literary corpora, as far as possible with their communal setting in mind, and
compare them with each other.

Ezekiel and the Ascent Apocalypses

Ezekiel’s inaugural vision was composed of the determinants of the open heaven,
the seer-visionary, his vision, and a revelation as the purpose of the vision. I will
begin with the first component, the open heaven, which soon becomes the goal of
the seer who sets off to leave his place on earth and conquer unknown territory.
Whereas Ezekiel remains on earth, with God appearing above him in the open
heaven (a motif that returns in some apocalypses and in particular in the New
Testament), the ascent apocalypses have the seer actively ascending to heaven to
seek God there. In the book of Ezekiel the seer is the priest Ezekiel, who was part
of the elite that was exiled to Babylonia in 597 Bc, hence a fairly well-known
historical figure. The visionaries in the ascent apocalypses, by contrast, are all
biblical heroes of the past (with the exception of John in the New Testament
Book of Revelation, clearly a contemporary figure) to whom, although they are
portrayed as protagonists of the ascent and recipients of the divine revelation, the
heavenly journey is ascribed by a much later author/editor. In other words, the
ascent apocalypses are no doubt pseudepigraphical works that pretend to belong
to a distant past but in fact are later creations that emerged from highly concrete
(postbiblical) historical circumstances, far removed from the time in which the
biblical heroes flourished.
But in Ezekiel and in the ascent apocalypses, the seers do not peer into or
ascend to heaven on their own initiative; rather, they are all taken by surprise
 435) Chapter 9

because something unexpected happens to them. Ezekiel, standing on the bank

of the Chebar canal, is caught by the hand of God; Enoch, in the Book of the
Watchers and in 2 Enoch, receives his vision in a dream after he has fallen asleep
(although in 2 Enoch he wakes up and the dream turns into “reality”), whereas in
the Similitudes he is carried off by a whirlwind, with no further details disclosed;
Levi, too, has just fallen asleep when an angel invites him to enter heaven; and
John, suddenly seeing a door open in heaven, is likewise invited to come on up.
Abraham’s case is particularly revealing: the biblical Vorlage recounting Ab-
raham’s sacrifice and God’s promise — which take place when Abraham is fast
asleep — is turned into an ascent, with the sacrificial birds ironically used as the
vehicle for Abraham’s and the accompanying angel’s ascent to heaven. Isaiah is
the only exception, since he remains with his body on earth, only his spirit being
lifted to heaven to experience the vision.!
The heaven(s) that the visionaries see open or to which they ascend are all
quite different. Whereas the Book of Ezekiel, the Book of the Watchers, and,
interestingly enough, the Apocalypse of John (following the paradigm of Ezek-
iel) retain the old biblical cosmology with the one-tiered heaven above the earth
(and the Netherworld beneath the earth), all the other apocalypses introduce a
multilevel schema consisting of a variety of heavens that climaxes in the seven-
heavens pattern (2 Enoch, Apocalypse of Abraham, Ascension of Isaiah, and
probably also the Testament of Levi). It goes without saying that if the multilevel
schema is employed, God resides in the uppermost heaven. This highest heaven
is often explicitly described as the heavenly Temple (Book of the Watchers, Tes-
tament of Levi, Similitudes), but frequently the connection with the Temple can
only be deduced from specific circumstances, such as the angelic liturgy taking
place in heaven (of which the seer becomes part).
On seeing the heavens open or on ascending to heaven, the visionary is ex-
posed to certain experiences that affect his behavior and sometimes even his ap-
pearance. In Ezekiel, God’s sudden “hand” on the prophet clearly implies some
violence in the experience, but there is no indication of any immediate response
on the part of the prophet when having this vision, let alone of his physical or
spiritual transformation. Only after the vision, when he is brought back to his
fellow exiles, is he “bitter” — presumably because God had forced such an im-
possible mission on him. Within the ascent apocalypses, the most common and
almost stereotypical reaction of the seer to what happens to him is horror, fear,
and prostration. Enoch in the Book of the Watchers, from the moment he sees
the first house in heaven, is filled with horror; his body trembles and shakes, and
he falls on his face, remaining in this position until an angel puts him back on

1 The missing beginning of the Apocalypse of Zephaniah does not allow us to

speculate
about the circumstances of Zephaniah’s ascent. Clement of Alexandria’s brief quotation,
how-
ever, refers to a “spirit” that took Zephaniah up into the fifth heaven; see
Wintermute, O7P,
vol. 1, p. 508.
 Conclusions 233

his feet and brings him to the door of the second house (the throne chamber in
the heavenly Temple). Similarly, when the Enoch of the Similitudes sees God
on his throne (chs. 60 and 71), he trembles and, with his body collapsing, falls
on his face. Finally, the Enoch of 2 Enoch almost excessively acts out his horror
and fear: he perspires from anxiety when he sees the first angels, he is terrified
and trembles when he sees the heavenly hosts, he is even more frightened when
the angels are about to leave him and, in despair, prostrates before them, again
falling down when he captures a glimpse of God.
The same holds true for the other ascent apocalypses. In the Apocalypse of
Abraham, Abraham’s soul flees from him when he first hears God’s voice, and
he falls on his face. Abraham’s body weakens and his spirit departs from him
again when he sees the heavenly liturgy of the angels, and when at the peak of
his experience he hears God’s voice in the fire, he wants to fall down; but since
there is no firm ground in the highest heaven, he must pull himself together and
focus all his energy on joining in with the praise of the angels. Isaiah, ascending
through the seven heavens with his angelic guide, falls prostrate and attempts
to worship the angels sitting on thrones in the respective heavens. And finally
Zephaniah, whose reaction is directed solely at the angels. When he sees the first
angel (who turns out to be the accuser), his body weakens and he falls on his
face; this behavior recurs with the second angel (who turns out to be Eremiel,
almost God’s equal), and Zephaniah falls on his face and worships him.?
Yet, most conspicuously, some apocalypses are not content with referring to
the customary horror and fear of the seer as the appropriate response to his expe-
rience. They go much further and see in the transformation of the visionary into
an angelic being the ultimate climax of such an experience. This trend begins
with the Enoch of the Similitudes, where we hear for the first time that the weak-
ening of the seer’s body is accompanied by his transformation into something
different, obviously an angel (ch. 71). Interestingly enough, the text emphasizes
that it is Enoch’s spirit that is transformed; he apparently remains, despite his
transformation, in his enfeebled body. Furthermore, I do not think that this trans-
formation as described in the Similitudes must be viewed as the peak of Enoch’s
heavenly experience,’ for it is mentioned rather casually; what seems of greater
importance to the author is the angel Michael’s announcement that this Enoch
is the Son of Man — obviously a reference to Dan. 7:13, where the “one like a
human being” comes down with the clouds of heaven and is presented to the An-
cient of Days. Enoch has now become, quite literally, someone who looks like a

2 There is no noticeable reaction of the seer in the Testament of Levi and in the Apocalypse
of John: John completely fades in importance compared with the new hero, the Lamb.
3 As has been suggested by Chester, Messiah and Exaltation, pp. 64 ff. I also see no basis in
the text for Chester’s claim that Enoch undergoes a physical and spiritual transformation (ibid.,
p. 66), unless one wants to argue that what comes through in the Ethiopic translation actually
means body and spirit.
334 Chapter 9

human being but, in fact, is no longer a human being in the full sense of the word.
He is something in between, either between a human being and a genuine angel
or between a human being and God (that is, an angel), depending on how much
importance one wishes to attach to the fact that he remains in his body.
The ambiguity with regard to the question of a full bodily transformation (in
the sense that the seer gets completely rid of his human body) is intensified in
2 Enoch. True, Enoch becomes like one of the angels, “with no observable dif-
ference,” but it remains unclear what precisely this angelification means and to
what extent it affects his bodily existence. There can be no doubt, however, that
the book comes very close to a complete bodily transformation of its hero.
The Ascension of Isaiah seems to take a more straightforward stance. Isaiah’s
transformation into an angel is the prerequisite for his ability to join in with the
angels’ praise of God, that is, to participate in the heavenly liturgy. But the real
transformation occurs only in the seventh heaven, where he is stripped of his
garment of flesh and receives a new, heavenly garment. The ultimate transfor-
mation, however, will take place only after his death, when he has become one
of the deceased righteous. His transformation is not only temporary — he needs
to return to his “garment of flesh” — but also of a lesser degree (in his ability to
see God) in comparison to the postmortem transformation of the righteous. The
author does not bother to convey whether the transformation affects the seer’s
body or not (he seems to take it for granted); he is more concerned with the dis-
tinction between the transformation into an angel and the ultimate transforma-
tion into a deceased righteous. Finally Zephaniah, too, before he reaches the
destination of his journey — the place of the righteous souls — puts on an angelic
garment, that is, he is transformed into an angel. Since we are dealing here with
a deceased righteous, the status Isaiah so desperately wants to attain, we may
safely assume that Zephaniah’s transformation does indeed include his body.
Again, as in several of the other apocalypses, the immediate effect of Zepha-
niah’s angelification is his ability to understand the angels’ language and to join
in with their praises.
Despite its elaborate description of the hero’s heavenly journey with his
transformation into an angel, the Ascension of Isaiah is the sole apocalypse that
presents the seer as physically present among his companions on earth during
his journey, even disclosing details about his bodily functions (eyes open, lips
silent). Moreover, it explicitly maintains that Isaiah’s body remained on earth
and that only his spirit was taken up into heaven, clearly contradicting its own
main narrative. In modern psychology one might call this phenomenon a case of
“cataleptic rigor,” a state in which the seer’s self has left him, whereas the shell
of his body, seemingly inanimate, stays behind. Such a concept is completely
alien not only to the other apocalypses but also to the remaining literature of Sec-
ond Temple Judaism. Its sharp distinction between body and soul would seem
almost to betray a certain Platonic or Neoplatonic influence — a strange combi-
 Conclusions 335

nation indeed — and, not by coincidence, comes closest to what we encounter in

Philo and — again, strangely enough — in one peculiar narrative of the Hekhalot
literature (R. Nehunya b. Haganah’s recall from the Merkavah). But whereas
Philo blatantly and persistently dismisses the body and sees in the soul’s return to
its divine origin the goal of all human existence, the Nehunya b. Haganah story
stands out,‘ like Isaiah’s experience in the ascent apocalypses, as unique in the
Hekhalot literature, creating a tension with the ascent accounts as described in
the bulk of the Merkavah mystical texts (which never distinguish between the
adept’s body and soul). It would appear prudent, therefore, not to overemphasize
the Isaiah and Nehunya b. Haqanah incidents and to refrain from using them as
the appropriate yardstick for determining the character and circumstances of the
ascent experiences in the apocalypses and the Hekhalot literature.>
The vision that greets the seer at the peak of his ascent is typically considered
the climax of the whole adventure. Yet the accumulated evidence of Ezekiel and
the ascent apocalypses suggests adopting a more restrained and modest position.
Some apocalypses simply do not convey a vision (Apocalypse of Zephaniah)
or plainly declare that the seer was unable to look or was prohibited from look-
ing at God (Apocalypse of Abraham, Ascension of Isaiah), whereas others are
merely content with invoking the traditional biblical imagery of God seated on
his throne in the heavenly Temple (Testament of Levi), heavily influenced by
Ezekiel and Daniel (Similitudes). What remains, however, of Ezekiel’s boldly
depicted human-like figure surrounded by fire, is the fire rather than the human-
like figure. No one of his successors goes as far as Ezekiel in approaching the
human-like figure on the throne of glory. The Book of the Watchers makes do
with God’s luminous raiment veiled in fire as the object of Enoch’s desire, and
the Apocalypse of John describes God on his throne in terms of brilliant jewels
(the author is much more preoccupied with the figure of the “Lamb”). Only the
author of 2 Enoch goes beyond this rather stereotyped arsenal when he compares

4 On the possible additional case of one Gedullah hymn (Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur,
§ 93), see above, p. 253. These two cases are definitely not enough evidence to claim that it
is characteristic of Hekhalot Rabbati that only the soul ascends and the body is left behind on
earth (as Philip Alexander suggests; private communication). Hekhalot Rabbati is anything but
a uniform document, and if at all we want to judge it as a whole, we would come to the opposite
conclusion, namely, that the ascent of body and soul is taken for granted.
5 The only other text that reveals a similar awareness of the distinction between the mystic’s
body and soul is the apostle Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians — written in the second half
of the first century CE, hence not long after Philo wrote his tractates — in which Paul boasts
of having been “carried off (or snatched up: harpagenta) into the third heaven” or “paradise”
(2 Cor. 12:1-5). This is obviously a report about an ascent to heaven, very much in the tradi-
tion of the apocalyptic ascent accounts. When Paul, however, goes on to expressly state that he
- does not know whether this exciting event happened “in the body” or “out of the body” (eite
en somati ouk oida, eite ektos tou somatos ouk oida), we suddenly encounter an author who,
apparently under the influence of contemporary Platonic ideas, seems to have lost confidence
in the traditional biblical unity of body and soul.
336 Chapter 9

God’s face to red-hot iron emitting sparks. Despite this no doubt creative — if
not particularly ingenious — idea, obviously inspired by a very profane forge, the
primary message remains: God’s appearance is one of burning and impenetra-
ble fire. Moreover, the author or some manuscript scribes of 2 Enoch, having
brought themselves to venture this comparison, immediately retract from it and
declare that God’s appearance cannot be described.
The vision is almost always followed by and completed with a divine revela-
tion that explains the function and purpose of the vision. Ezekiel is sent back to
his rebellious people to tell them that Jerusalem and the Temple will be destroyed
but that there is nevertheless hope: the hope of restoration after Jerusalem’s fall.
Enoch in the Book of the Watchers conveys the message that the Watchers will
be condemned forever because they defiled the earth. Levi learns that the priest-
hood he inaugurated will become corrupt until the day when the eschatological
priest appears. The Enoch of the Similitudes discovers that he is the Son of Man
who will bring peace to the earth; and the Enoch of 2 Enoch is instructed to write
down voluminous heavenly books that he must teach his sons. The purpose of
Abraham’s vision in the Apocalypse of Abraham is the revelation of the future
history of Israel with the destruction of the Temple at its center, whereas in the
Ascension of Isaiah the eponymous prophet is supposed to give an account of
his vision to King Hezekiah. Finally, the Apocalypse of John reveals the secrets
of the eschaton as contained in the scroll that only the Lamb can open. In a con-
siderable number of cases the critique of the earthly Temple and its priesthood
plays a prominent role.
The concern for the future history of the people of Israel in general and the
unavoidable destruction of the Temple in particular underlines the ultimate goal
of the visionary’s ascent and the revelation he receives: he and his community
on earth are assured that God, despite the utterly bleak prospects for the future,
with the worst scenario that can happen, the destruction of the Temple, is still.
up there in heaven, in his celestial Temple. The very fact that God summons a
human being to ascend to his heavenly abode, in order to grant him a vision and
a revelation, proves that God is still approachable, that the gap between God
and his human creatures can still be bridged, even if he is absent from the Jeru-
salem Temple.°
With the ascent of the seer, his liturgical union with the angels culminating in
his angelification, his vision of God, and the revelation addressed to his earthly
community, the process is complete. The seer or visionary clearly undergoes
a distinct and unique experience that forever changes his life; it is only reluc-
tantly and grudgingly that he returns to his previous human existence, and, hav-

¢ On this, see also Martha Himmelfarb, “Revelation and Rapture: The Transformation of
the Visionary in the Ascent Apocalypses,” in John J. Collins and James H. Charlesworth, eds.,
Mysteries and Revelations: Apocalyptic Studies since the Uppsala Colloquium (Sheffield, UK:
JSOT Press, 1991), pp. 79-90.
 Conclusions 337

ing done so, he can hardly wait until he is allowed to return to the place of his
desire. Transformed into an angel, he comes as close to God as possible, but the
distance between him and God is always maintained, as is the distance between
God and his angels. The seer’s angelification (unio angelica) does not mean that
he merges into an indistinguishable mass of angels; he keeps his personality and
identity in relationship to the angels as well as to God (as so do the angels). If in
the course of his transformation he forfeits his body, this is only temporary, since
he must eventually return to his body and resume his earthly existence — until
he becomes a deceased righteous (but there can be no doubt that even the de-
ceased righteous retain their original identities). Hence, the transformed seer, in
his angelicized state, at no time enters into a union with his God. In view of the
- accumulated evidence, therefore, I see no justification for the attempt of some
scholars to extend the notion of angelification in the ascent apocalypses to that
of the deification of the seer.’ Neither is angelification identical with deifica-
tion, nor does it necessarily lead to deification; the apocalypses do not blur the
boundaries between God and his angels or the few human beings who are chosen
to be transformed into angels during their lifetime.
Finally, addressing the thorny question of whether Ezekiel and the ascent
apocalypses reflect the actual experiences of their authors or whether they are to
be regarded as literary constructs — that is, fiction — I would again sound a note
of caution. As far as Ezekiel is concerned, I have summarized Ezekiel 1 as the
report and testimony of a prophetic experience, as something that actually hap-
pened to the prophet (or that the prophet imagined happening to him, or that the
author of the book imagined as truly happening to the prophet Ezekiel). This is
certainly possible, and I do not wish to exclude such a possibility. On the other
hand, however, I am well aware that such a premise may be overly naive and
that we may in fact be dealing here with a thoroughly literary enterprise, in other
words, with fiction. This latter stance has been taken by some scholars,® and in-
deed the sophisticated texture of Ezekiel’s first chapter with its fabric of bibli-

7 See, e. g., Morray-Jones, “Transformational Mysticism,” pp. 13-26; Chester, Messiah and
Exaltation, p. 80. Not by coincidence, Himmelfarb (“Revelation and Rapture,” p. 86), hav-
ing briefly surveyed the apocalypses, uses the term “deification” only in connection with the
Greek magical papyri and even there plays down its significance: “In a system in which there
are many deities, ‘a godlike nature’ probably means something not very different from taking
one’s place among the angels.”
8 See, e.g., James L. Kugel and Rowan A. Greer, Early Biblical Interpretation (Philadel-
and the
phia: Westminster, 1986), pp. 17-19; Ellen F. Davis, Swallowing the Scroll: Textuality
of Discourse in Ezekiel’s Prophecy (Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic Press, 1989);
Dynamics
Troxel, Kel-
and Menahem Haran, “Observations on Ezekiel as a Book Prophet,” in Ronald L.
Essays
vin G. Friebel, and Dennis R. Magary, eds., Seeking Out the Wisdom of the Ancients:
on the Occasion of His Sixty-Fifth Birthday (Winona Lake,
Offered to Honor Michael V. Fox
Simeon
IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), pp. 3-19. I owe these references to my Princeton colleague
Chavel.
 338 Chapter 9

cal language and imagery, particularly from Genesis and Exodus, makes such a
suggestion very plausible.
The same is true in my view for the ascent apocalypses. They, too, draw to
a large extent on language, ideas, and imagery taken not only from the Bible
(Ezekiel, Daniel, and others) but also from other apocalypses as an inherent
part of their “experience.” Moreover, and more important, they come in the
disguise of pseudonymity — a strong disguise, indeed, and a strong argument
against the actual experience that they pretend to have undergone. As Martha
Himmelfarb has aptly put it: “there are many mirrors between the experience
and the text,” and “[p]seudonymity is perhaps the darkest” of all these mirrors.’
Yet again, neither of these two arguments is in itself sufficient to prove that the
ascent apocalypses are “fiction”: it may well be that such a premise, too, can be
“unmasked” as overly naive. Recently, Christopher Rowland has tried to steer
a kind of middle course between the Scylla of literary fiction and the Charybdis
of genuine experience. He proposes that for some ancient readers, the interpre-
tation of Ezekiel 1
involved seeing again what Ezekiel had seen. It may well have involved the resort to
cross-referencing, but this contributed to a dynamic imaginative activity in which the
details of Ezekiel’s vision were understood by a complex interweaving of vision and
textual networking.!°
This sounds like a reasonable compromise between the alternative of fiction
versus experience, a polarized view increasingly being perceived as sterile and
unproductive. But how does such a “complex interweaving of vision and textual
networking” actually work? The visionary sees what his predecessors have seen,
and adds to this his own experience? But what if his own experience consists of
little more than reconfiguring the textual network that he has received? This does
not really lead us out of our impasse. It also does not help much when Rowland
continues to argue that even if the literary approach proves to be correct, “this
does not in itself mean that the experiences described are false but rather that this
is what the mystic was expected to see.”'! I could not agree more — but no one
I know of who advocates the literary approach has ever claimed that the experi-
ences described in the ascent apocalypses are false. Falsehood is a completely
inappropriate (not to say false) category. Invoking this category means that one
fails to understand the concept of pseudepigraphy. The authors of the ascent
apocalypses clearly believed that their heroes (that is, they themselves) had
cer-

° Himmelfarb, “Revelation and Rapture,” p. 88; see also eadem, Ascent to Heaven,
pp. 110-114.
A Christopher Rowland, with Patricia Gibbons and Vicente Dobroruk
a, “Visionary Experi-
ence in Ancient Judaism and Christianity,” in DeConick, Paradise
Now, p. 48.
ar elbid., p. 53:
 Conclusions 339

tain experiences, but this does not necessarily mean that these experiences were
genuine experiences and not literary constructs.
When Rowland concludes that the apocalypses of Second Temple Judaism
may provide “examples of those moments when human experience moves be-
yond what is apparent to physical perception to open up perceptions of other di-
mensions of existence ... different from a purely analytical or rational approach
to texts or received wisdom,” he finally lets the cat out of the bag and reveals
his true agenda. For there exists hardly a more devastating critique in some
scholarly circles preoccupied with “mysticism” than accusations of a “purely
analytical or rational approach” to the sacred texts of Judaism and Christian-
ity. Horribile dictu. The real agenda behind this accusation is the firm convic-
tion that it is only “natural” to crave for “other dimensions of existence,” since
the new generation of scholars has, at long last, left the old rationalism behind
(a prime example of which was, to be sure, Scholem) and has opened itself up
again to the possibility of paranormal experiences. I do not think, however, that
it makes much sense to play off an allegedly “rationalist” approach against a
more genuine or natural “experiential” approach — and all the more so if the ex-
periential approach turns out to be informed by a pronounced religious (if not
New Age) attitude. The “rationalists,” to whose cohort I gladly admit belonging
to, do not wish to exclude categorically any possibility of genuine experience
on the part of the visionaries; they just do not see much of such genuine experi-
ence coming through the “textual networking” of Ezekiel and the ascent apoca-
lypses. We may be blind, but the accumulated efforts of our opponents have not
(yet) made us see.

Hekhalot Literature

The body of texts no doubt coming closest to the ascent apocalypses is the
Hekhalot literature. With this statement I explicitly respond to and reject the
recent trend in scholarship to locate at least the “phenomenological” if not the
immediate historical precursor of Merkavah mysticism in the Qumran com-
munity. It is in the Hekhalot literature that we find the clearest analogy to the
frame of reference that was so characteristic of the ascent apocalypses: ascent,
seer, vision, and purpose of the vision. My analyses have demonstrated that the
Hekhalot literature presents an extremely complex web of different, competing,
and even conflicting ideas and tendencies that cannot and must not be forced into
the Procrustean bed of a harmonizing synthesis. But for the sake of a comparison
between the Hekhalot literature and the ascent apocalypses, I will nevertheless
venture some broader and more general observations.

2 Tbid., p. 55.
 340 Chapter 9

The ascent as such becomes not only more important in the Hekhalot litera-
ture than in the ascent apocalypses, it also turns into a highly perilous adventure.
The mystic or adept is not called into heaven by God, accompanied and guided
by angels, but rather undertakes the ascent, as a rule, on his own initiative’? and
accordingly is exposed to considerable dangers, of which precisely the angels
constitute the greatest and deadliest one, since it is their main task not to guide
him through the heavenly realm but to prevent the unworthy mystic from ac-
complishing the ascent. And even for the worthy mystic it can, in certain layers
of the Hekhalot literature, be extremely dangerous to look at God (or rather at
his gown, as the text has it, similar to the tradition of God’s raiment in the Book
of the Watchers and the Similitudes). The territory that the mystic crosses dur-
ing his journey emulates the fully developed seven-heaven scheme of the ascent
apocalypses as inspired by the imagery of the earthly Temple; so it becomes clear
from the outset that the mystic ascends through the heavenly halls or chambers to
the Temple in heaven, where God in the seventh heaven resides on his throne.
The notion of the worthy and the unworthy mystic entails a complicated set
of implications and consequences that are alien to the ascent apocalypses: who
is worthy and who is not, how does the worthy mystic prove his credibility, how
do the angels prevent the unworthy adept from entering, and so on? Coming
into play here is a variety of magical tools (seals, names) that are inextricably
woven into the fabric of the ascent accounts, yet the traditional rabbinic virtue of
Torah knowledge (in the broadest sense of the term) is also invoked. The heroes
of the ascent are not biblical figures of the remote past but famous rabbis (ish-
mael and Agiva in particular, or a larger and well-defined circle of the rabbinic
elite), but many Hekhalot texts — presumably the later ones — grant the privilege
of the ascent to almost anyone who proves worthy. If we take seriously the dis-
tinctively priestly coloring of some of the ascent apocalypses and the emphasis
on the heavenly Temple in almost all our relevant texts, the shift from priests
to rabbis in the Hekhalot literature clearly follows the pattern employed in the
classical rabbinic literature. Some texts excel in elevating the chosen mystic over
and above not only his fellow Jews but also the Roman emperor and the angels,
and even make him a precursor of the Messiah or a savior figure that renders
the traditional Messiah superfluous. The few apocalypses incorporated into the
Hekhalot literature at a later stage attempt to correct this idea and revert to a
more conventional eschatology.
The vision no doubt is the climax of the whole enterprise in the Hekhalot lit-
erature; at least, this is what we are made to expect following the long, convo-
luted, and in many cases fragmentary accounts, narratives, hymns, and
prayers.
'3 This is indeed the main difference between the ascent in the Hekhalot
literature and the
ascent apocalypses (see above, pp: 331 f.), as has been noticed already
by Michael Swartz in his
cautious and well-balanced article, “The Dead Sea Scrolls and Later
Jewish Magic and Mysti-
cism,” DSD 8 (2001), p. 190.
 Conclusions 341

But more often than not I have concluded that in fact our skillfully charged ex-
pectation is mercilessly dashed: instead of finally observing the mystic enjoying
the vision of God, we are fobbed off with just another volley of endless litanies.
Yet precisely this, I have argued, is the “content” of the vision according to the
Hekhalot literature — not the image and features of God on his throne but the
inclusion of the mystic in the heavenly liturgy.'* I have proposed that for this
experience we employ the phrase unio Jiturgica, liturgical union or communion,
in contrast to the misleading phrase unio mystica, or mystical union, of the adept
with God. This liturgical union of the mystic with the angels and, to a certain
degree, also with God (occurring during the angels’ and the mystic’s joint praise
of God) is one of the most important characteristics shared by the Hekhalot lit-
erature and the ascent apocalypses.
My persistent and unrelenting insistence on the fact that the ascent accounts
in the Hekhalot literature have little to say about what the mystic actually sees
when he attains the goal of his desire — that it is, in a way, the phenomenon of
the “empty vision” — has met with some not unexpected criticism. As an exam-
ple, I quote Elliot Wolfson:
I think Schafer is absolutely right in pointing out that a prime reason for the ascent is
the participation of the adept in the liturgy of the heavenly court. Indeed, the yeridah
la-merkavah (entry to the chariot) that follows the ascent to the seventh palace is fun-
damentally a liturgical act. But — and here is my critical point — participation in the
angelic choir arises precisely by virtue of the mystic’s entry to the realm of the chariot
and consequent vision of the enthroned glory. One cannot separate in an absolute way
the visionary and liturgical aspects of this experience; indeed, it might be said that in
order to praise God one must see God."

Sure enough, the mystic’s participation in the angelic liturgy is a consequence

of his entry into the realm of the innermost heavenly sanctuary with God seated
on his throne, and the liturgical and visionary aspects of the adventure do belong
together, but I fail to see the logic of the conclusion (or is it a premise?) “that in
order to praise God one must see God.” Is any praise of God the consequence
of seeing God? Certainly not, unless one wants to adopt a pan-mystical stance
whereby all kinds of liturgical activity presuppose a vision of God.'® I am not
saying that a vision of God is impossible in the Hekhalot literature, and I am
even not arguing that the Merkavah mystic does not see God. I am just pointing
out the fact that the editors of the Hekhalot literature do not trouble themselves
(private
14 One may call this a clear case of “apophaticism,” as Philip Alexander suggests
part and parcel of nega-
communication), but apophaticism is not reserved for mysticism; it is
tive theology in a much broader sense.
“Yeridah la-Merkavah,”
15 Wolfson, Through a Speculum That Shines, p. 117; see also idem,
e23:
to see God one must praise
4 16 The sentence makes more sense the other way around: in order
God, and in this sense one could
God, that is, the only way to seeing God leads through praising
God.
say that praising God is seeing God and seeing God is praising
 342 Chapter 9

with communicating the contents of any such a vision — whether or not there is
one. I do believe, however, that this lack of communication does not result from
some inability or timidity on the part of the authors or editors, let alone from
the loss of some crucial passages in the course of the manuscript transmission;
rather, I hold that our authors’ or editors’ reticence with regard to the visionary
aspect of the ascent experience — or, to be more precise, regarding not just any
kind of visionary aspect (since the Hekhalot literature is clearly full of “visual el-
ements’’) but the peak of this visionary experience, namely, the vision of God on
his throne — is part of their deliberate editorial strategy and hence their message:
they do not want to emphasize the vision of God as the climax of the mystic’s as-
cent; they are more interested in his becoming part of the liturgical performance
in heaven and, moreover, in the ultimate message conveyed to him by God.
If we conclude that the mystic, at the peak of the heavenly liturgy, enters into a
liturgical (comm)union with the angels and also with God — since God, at least in
some texts, is not only the passive recipient of the liturgical performance but also
its active participant — does this mean that the mystic in the Hekhalot literature
undergoes a process of physical transformation or transfiguration into an angel
(that is, of angelification) similar to the transformation of the seer in the ascent
apocalypses? I am reluctant to go so far because, again, I do not think that this is
what our authors and editors are interested in. They are untroubled by the prob-
lem of a possible distinction between body and soul (taking it for granted that
the adept ascends and descends in his body and soul), nor are they concerned
with Enoch’s very peculiar case or with the postmortem destiny of the righteous
(taking it for granted that their heroes are in principle meant to return to their
earthly community).'’ The angelification of a human being in the strict sense of
the term is not what they apparently wish to advocate.
Nor are they intent on proposing that the Merkavah mystic is going even a
step further and experiencing a process of deification or quasi-deification, as has
been suggested by Wolfson. Wolfson claims that according to “the major texts”
in the Hekhalot corpus, “the mystic is said to be seated in the seventh palace
before the throne of glory”; that this fact, which he calls the “enthronement of
the mystic,” results from his vision of God; and that therefore “one
can speak of
the enthronement as the quasi-deification or angelification that renders
possible
the mystical vision.”!* The evidence for the mystic’s being seated that
Wolfson
has provided!” is not only much less ample than he maintains,” I also fail
to see

'7 With the exception, of course, of 3 Enoch.

'§ Wolfson, “Mysticism,” p. 194.
'° Not in the above mentioned article, but in “Yeridah la-Merkavah,”
pp. 22 ff.
20 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 227 (Nehunya b. Haqanah
sits before the throne of
glory), § 233 (Dumiel has the mystic sit down on a bench of pure stone — which
to do with being seated before God), § 236 (the angels sit has nothing
the successful mystic down next to
the keruvim, ofannim, and the holy creatures), § 411 (the
angels sit the mystic down before the
 Conclusions 343

the equation of being seated with “enthronement,” let alone the equation of “en-
thronement” with “deification” or “divinization.”*! True, the fact that the mystic
obtains a seat in the divine throne room is remarkable and assigns to him an el-
evated position probably above that of even (most of) the angels, but where is the
enthronement? And even if some kind of enthronement takes place, what does
this have to do with deification? It seems that Wolfson is influenced here by the
(much more greatly elaborated) enthronement of Metatron in 3 Enoch — which
indeed comes close to a deification — but the “ordinary” mystic is not Metatron,
and the authors/editors of the Hekhalot literature have invested remarkably little
energy in the mystic’s “enthronement” or “deification.” Moreover, if one wants
to go for a deification of the mystic, then why not refer to the text, unique though
_it is, in Hekhalot Zutarti, where the angels have sat the mystic down on God’s
own lap,” a text that Wolfson does not quote? To be seated on God’s lap is surely
better than being seated on an angel’s lap (which then signifies angelification?).”3
Unfortunately, however, the text in Hekhalot Zutarti continues with the mys-
tic’s request for an adjuration of the angels”* — hardly appropriate behavior for a
human being who has just been deified!
I should like to assert, therefore, that Metatron’s enthronement and transfor-
mation in 3 Enoch is the only case in the Hekhalot literature of the angelification
of a human being that even borders on deification. Of all the macroforms assem-
bled in the Hekhalot literature, 3 Enoch is not coincidentally the one that comes
closest to the ascent apocalypses. It seems that after the classical rabbinic period,
some Jewish authors felt free not only to revert to the apocalyptic tradition but
also to utilize it against their Christian opponents, who, after all, had usurped the
early Jewish ascent apocalypses and converted them into Christian writings. It is
against this background that Metatron begins to compete with Jesus Christ.
Turning now to the fourth and last constituent of the pattern established by
Ezekiel, the purpose of the vision (or, more broadly, of the mystic’s heavenly
adventure) in the Hekhalot literature, we discover another remarkable similarity
mys-
with the ascent apocalypses: concern for the future and well-being of the
es and
tic’s community, the people of Israel on earth. Both the ascent apocalyps
there, up in heaven,
the Hekhalot literature underscore the fact that God is still
throne room,
that certain chosen human beings can approach him in his heavenly
about Israel’s destiny. But the Hekhalot litera-
and that he is deeply concerned
2b, 1. 13-17 (Metatron has the
throne of glory), and the Genizah fragment T.-S. K 21.95.C, fol.
mystic sit in his lap and [?] on a seat before the throne of glory).
21 As he puts it in “Yeridah la-Merkavah,” p. 24.
22. Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, § 417.
is seated on Metatron’s lap, the
23 In addition to the Genizah fragment, where the mystic
microfo rm in which the mystic is invited to sit on the lap of an angel is the David
only other
t-Liter atur, §§ 122 and 125), not the most characteristic of
apocalypse (Synopse zur Hekhalo
all Hekhalot texts.
24 Synopse zur Hekhalot-Literatur, §§ 418 f.
 344 Chapter 9

ture, or rather, and more precisely, certain layers within the Hekhalot literature,
go much farther than the ascent apocalypses. Extensive passages in Hekhalot
Rabbati in particular emphasize again and again that God longs for the mys-
tic to ascend to him, that Israel’s Qedushah is more important to God than the
Qedushah of his angels, that God is still full of love for Israel, that he loves his
people even more than his angels, and that the mystic’s vision and participation
in the heavenly liturgy is the ultimate sign of Israel’s salvation.**
I regard this insistence on God’s continued love for Israel — with the neces-
sary caveat concerning the multilayered character of the Hekhalot literature — as
one of the most striking results of our survey. And it is here that Scholem, in
my view, went farthest astray in his characterization of the Merkavah mysti-
cal experience, calling it “cosmocratorial mysticism” or, following Graetz,
“Basileomorphism.”*° True, the God of the Hekhalot literature “is above all
King, to be precise, Holy King,”’ but I do not think that this is an expression of
“Basileomorphism,” a term presumably influenced by the idea of an (allegedly)
ossified Byzantine court ritual.** Scholem’s usual knack for distancing him-
self from Graetz’s prejudices has obviously forsaken him here. Nor do I think
that Merkavah mysticism is permeated by “a complete absence of any senti-
ment of divine immanence” and that there is, furthermore, “almost no love of
God’? — quite the contrary. The upshot of this claim is revealing and deserves
to be quoted in full:
Ecstasy there was, and this fundamental experience must have been a source of reli-
gious inspiration, but we find no trace of a mystical union between the soul and God.
Throughout there remained an almost exaggerated consciousness of God’s otherness,
nor does the identity and individuality of the mystic become blurred even at the height
of the ecstatic passion. The Creator and His creature remain apart, and nowhere is an
attempt made to bridge the gulf between them or to blur the distinction. The mystic
who in his ecstasy has passed through all the gates, braved all the dangers, now stands
before the throne; he sees and hears — but that is all.3°

One can easily see that Scholem, having denied Merkavah mysticism (almost)
any trace of divine immanence and love, is drifting to his pet subject: the lack
of the notion of unio mystica. I can endorse almost everything that he says with

°° This communal orientation is almost completely abandoned in Hekhalot Zutarti,

with its
emphasis on the individualistic and disciplinary aspect of the enterprise.
*6 Scholem, Major Trends, pp. 54f.
27 Tbid.
28 For a detailed and more cogent analysis of the imperial (Roman and Sasanian)
court ritual
background of the Hekhalot literature, see Philip Alexander, “The Family
of Caesar and the
Family of God: The Image of the Emperor in Early Jewish Mystical
Literature,” in Loveday
Alexander, ed., Images of Empire: The Roman Empire in Jewish, Christian
and Greco-Roman
Sources (Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic Press, 1991), pp. 276-297.
© Scholem, Major Trends, p. 55.
3° Tbid., pp. 55f.
 Conclusions 345

regard to the distinction between the mystic and God and the mystic’s persist-
ing identity and individuality. But in his zeal to make clear this point, Scholem
grossly overshoots the mark. I therefore share Wolfson’s unease in particular
with the last quoted sentence: that the seeing and hearing of the mystic “‘is all”
that happens. This is indeed a distressing example of an overly minimalist ap-
proach.3! Although I would not wish to argue, with Wolfson, that Scholem “for-
gets” the following enthronement and deification of the mystic, I agree that he
does forget the most important part of the whole exercise: the confirmation of
God’s continuous love for Israel, the message that God still cares for his people
on earth. Of course, in the Hekhalot literature there is no trace of the classical
notion of God’s immanence on earth. This has become impossible, because the
(Second) Temple has been destroyed and because it does not appear as if God
will be able to return to his earthly Temple any time soon. But this is precisely
the message: that God, enthroned in the Holy of Holies of his heavenly Temple
in the seventh heaven, this “transcendent” God, can still be approached — to be
sure, by only a few chosen mystics, but he can indeed be approached, and the
gulf between him and his creatures can be bridged. God’s transcendence turns
into a new and unexpected immanence.*?
Such a message obviously presupposes not only the destroyed Temple but also
the admission that this deplorable situation may continue into the foreseeable
future — and beyond. If we take seriously the late formation of the Hekhalot lit-
erature toward the end of the rabbinic or even during the post-rabbinic period, we
must also take into account the claim of a Christian Church firmly establishing
itself in Palestine as the preeminent power — and underscoring this power with a
plethora of Christian churches that rendered futile any Jewish hope for rebuild-
ing the Temple. This applies equally to the Jews of Palestine and the Jews of
Babylonia, and so it little matters where we wish to locate our Merkavah mysti-
cal texts. The Temple was lost to the Christians, who claimed that they were the
new Israel and the new spiritual Temple, a claim that made a rebuilding of the
Temple and a resumption of its sacrifices superfluous. It is under the impress of
these historical circumstances that the Merkavah mystics set out on their journey
into the heavenly Temple so as to rediscover their God there, to unite with the
angels in their heavenly liturgy — and then to return to their earthly community
with the divine assurance of love and redemption.

31 Wolfson, “Mysticism,” p. 194.

32 A striking example of the lasting and, in this regard, unfortunate influence of Scholem can
be seen in Nickelsburg’s commentary on | Enoch in which he, with a few generalizing strokes,
similar, so
emphasizes the transcendent otherness and inaccessibility of God in 1 Enoch 1-36,
whereas
he believes (following Scholem), to Merkavah mysticism, and even concludes that
later mystics,
“Bnoch’s ascent and vision of God are prologue to his commissioning, [flor the
what happens
the vision of God was an end in itself” (Nickelsburg, / Enoch 1, p. 261). That is
conjures up
when one ignores twenty years or so of research on Merkavah mysticism and just
old stereotypes.
 346 Chapter 9

As to the question of actual experience versus literary fiction, the Hekhalot lit-
erature has become one of the major battlefields of modern research addressing
this problem. As I have noted already, the Hekhalot literature differs from the as-
cent apocalypses in that its protagonists assume a much more active stance: they
are not the passive recipients of divine rapture but take matters into their own
hands. Nevertheless, with its rabbinic heroes of the time of the Mishnah — mix-
ing them up most anachronistically in the circle of the havurah — the Hekhalot
literature invokes a “mythic past” ** rather than describing concrete historical
circumstances. Hence, as in the ascent apocalypses, the decidedly pseudepi-
graphical character of the Hekhalot literature speaks strongly in favor of their
being literary creations rather than reflections of actual experiences. This obvi-
ously holds true for R. Ishmael, R. Agiva, and R. Nehunya b. Haqanah, the most
famous protagonists of the ascent accounts — since it would clearly be naive to
assign to them the “original” mystical experience that only later develops into
“literature” — and it becomes increasingly evident with the growing tendency, in
later layers of the Hekhalot literature, to extend the circle of initiates further — to
include even the rabbis’ students and ultimately everyone who knows the rules
of the game.
One could, of course, argue that in fact some unknown authors — and hence
protagonists of the “real” mystical experience — hide behind the heroes of the
past. But all attempts to uncover the original mystical circles behind the litera-
ture, the circles of adepts that were actually engaged in the practices described
in the literary corpus that has been preserved, these attempts have still not led
us very far. Either they impose on the multifarious and polymorphic body of
the Hekhalot literature a uniform concept that does little justice to its diversity
(such as David Halperin’s theory of the authors of the Hekhalot literature as the
disenfranchised ‘ammei ha-aretz, who rebelled against the rabbinic elite),*4 or
they apply only to certain segments of the Hekhalot literature (such as Michael
Swartz’s theory of the “secondary elites” of scribes that addresses primarily the
Sar ha-Torah traditions in the Hekhalot literature),*> or they use models of re-
ligious experience whose applicability to the Hekhalot literature is at the very
least debatable (such as James Davila’s shamanic model, taken from preliterate
societies).*° The practitioners of the ascent and the sociohistorical grounding
of
their “experiences” have largely eluded us.
Again, this is not to say that with regard to the Hekhalot literature,
too, the
dichotomy between “literature” and “experience” has definitely been solved
in
favor of the former. It may even be that this dichotomy is a false and
mislead-
* Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, p. 143.
*4 Halperin, The Faces of the Chariot, pp. 437 ff.
3° Michael D. Swartz, Scholastic Magic: Ritual and Revelation
in Early Jewish Mysticism
(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996), pp. 209-229.
36 Davila, Descenders to the Chariot.
 Conclusions 347

ing one and that the very fact of establishing it inhibits its solution. Yet if one
wishes to make this claim, one needs to take seriously the literary character of
the Merkavah mystical experience as presented in the Hekhalot literature. And
this literary character with its endless and stereotypical recitations, repetitions,
allusions, and cross-references — in all the layers of the Hekhalot literature — is
so predominant that it seems hopeless to discover and expose an “experiential
core” behind the literary veil*’ Whatever there may have been of an original
experience, it has coagulated into literature, and it is precisely this literature that
becomes the focus of attention: Merkavah mysticism is described over and over
again as an esoteric discipline that can nevertheless be studied, that is written in
a book, and that can be taught to one’s students. Reading and reciting the experi-
ence of the ascent has become the ascent, or, to put it in terms of our dichotomy,
reciting the literature is the experience.
This reading and reciting of the Hekhalot /iterature was neither a uniform nor
a timeless venture but a process refracted through the kaleidoscopic lens of a
variety of literary forms and configurations of the Hekhalot literature, at differ-
ent historical moments, that is, at different places and different times. And it is
this internal literary development of the Hekhalot literature, the diversification
of its literary layers, structures, and rhetorical devices, anchored in specific his-
torical moments, that needs to be evaluated and further described. I made this
assertion very early on in my preoccupation with the Hekhalot literature,** and
I have been misunderstood as trying to obstruct if not outright prevent through
rather boring “philological’*? and literary exercises access to what really mat-
ters in our dealings with the Hekhalot literature — the mystical experience be-
hind that literature.*° Far be it from me to do so. But I still do not see how the
laborious and time-consuming work of philological and literary analysis can be
circumvented — as a matter of fact, a fair portion of it has been done in the Berlin
Hekhalot project, particularly in the introductions to the volumes of the Hekhalot
translation — and I note with gratification that the pendulum has begun to swing

37 Unless one wants to see in R. Nehunya b. Haqanah’s ascent and in the havurah account
the very core of the Merkavah mystical “experience.”
38 Schafer, “New Testament and Hekhalot Literature,” pp. 34f. = id., Hekhalot-Studien,
p. 249.
39 Another non-PC word that has become stigmatized.
40 See, e.g., Ithamar Gruenwald, From Apocalypticism to Gnosticism: Studies in Apocalypti-
cism, Merkavah Mysticism and Gnosticism (Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 1988), p. 179 f.:
If we follow Schaefer without making any concessions or compromises, the emphasis in our
infor-
study of the Hekhalot literature has to shift from the contents of works to fragments of
mation variously grouped together in several manuscripts. ... [W]e have to limit ourselves
they were
to relatively small units which, because of the uneven editorial work to which
subjected, only inadvertently reflect the original compositions. Eventually, the manuscripts
rather than
at our disposal are more like a veil that blurs our vision of the Merkavah mystics
a vehicle that supposedly can carry us back into the very circles of those mystics.
See also Idel, Kabbalah: New Perspectives, p. 27.
 348 Chapter 9

back toward this approach, opening it up even further to the material conditions
of the literary and cultural production of what has come to be assembled under
the heading “Hekhalot literature.”4! It is becoming ever more apparent that such
an approach (the “new textualism” in the newly emerging field of the history
of the book)* will lead us, geographically and culturally, into the realm of the
late antique/early medieval Byzantine and Babylonian cultural context(s) in the
broadest sense of the word.

Qumran

The Qumran literature describes an experience sui generis, equally remote in

many respects from both the ascent apocalypses and the Hekhalot literature.
Of the four components of Ezekiel’s taxonomy there is no ascent, (almost) no
seer, (almost) no vision, and very little concern for the future (at least for all of
Israel). As for the ascent, even if the joint worship of angels and human beings
takes place in heaven (and not on earth), the earthly community does not ascend
to heaven in the technical sense of the term; rather, what counts is the liturgical
communion with the angels and not how it comes about. Only the author of the
Self-Glorification Hymn envisions himself as being elevated to heaven, but we
never learn how he got there; his ascent as such plays no role. And with regard
to the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice — the backbone of the alleged underground
connection between the mystical experiences of the Qumran and the Hekhalot
communities in recent scholarship — the performative act of reciting the songs
during the community’s worship must serve as bridge between heaven and earth,
that is, as proof of the claim that the Qumran sectarians indeed ascend to heaven
in order to unite with the angels. I do not want to exclude this possibility, but if
it is indeed the case, then the focus of the songs lies elsewhere.*3 In particular,
I see no basis for the increasingly popular idea that the community’s “ascent”
in the songs is the prototype for the Merkavah mystic’s ascent in the Hekhalot
literature.
As for the seer, unlike the ascent apocalypses and the Hekhalot literature, the
Qumran texts are not concerned with the individual or the individual serving as

‘! See Boustan’s programmatic statement in “The Study of Heikhalot Literature,”

pp. 133,
136.
” See, e.g., D.F. McKenzie, Bibliography and the Sociology of Texts (London:
British
Library, 1986); R. Chartier, The Order of Books (Cambridge: Polity
Press, 1994); and most
recently the Christian test case presented by Anthony Grafton and Megan
Williams, Christian-
ity and the Transformation of the Book: Origen, Eusebius, and the
Library of Caesarea (Cam-
bridge, MA: Harvard University Press), 2006.
*’ See also Wolfson’s caveat: “The extant sources do not demonstr
ate conclusively that the
recitation of the hymns facilitated the translation of the worshipp
ers to heaven and their trans-
lation into angels” (“Mysticism,” p. 201).
 Conclusions 349

the community’s representative. The only exception is again the unknown hero
of the Self-Glorification Hymn, a fact that underlines the peculiarity or even
anomaly of the hymn within the larger corpus of the Qumran literature. The bulk
of the Qumranic texts centers on the community at large, and not on the individ-
ual. And there is even less concern for the vision. The visionary element in the
songs concentrates on the animated architecture of the Temple and, related to it,
on the angels. Moreover, the songs’ radical reinterpretation of Ezekiel 1 trans-
fers the appearance of God to the angels and God’s voice to the angels’ telling
silence, hence ultimately substituting the angels for God. Even in the Self-Glo-
rification Hymn there is no trace whatsoever of the author’s desire to see God;
he is completely, and proudly, content with his place among the angels.
It is difficult ascertaining precisely to what extent the Qumran texts envision
the members of the community as being transformed into angels. We definitely
and most conspicuously do find the idea of the unio liturgica — the liturgical
union or, better, the communion of humans and angels. This feature connects the
Qumran evidence with the ascent apocalypses and the Hekhalot literature. But
how far beyond this do the Qumran texts go? Is it just a joint enterprise, or are
the sectarians physically transformed into angels, that is, do they undergo a pro-
cess of angelification (unio angelica) similar to that of the seers of (some of) the
ascent apocalypses and Enoch-Metatron in 3 Enoch? If they imagine their joint
worship as taking place not just on earth but actually in heaven (in the Hodayot
and the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice), it seems only natural that such an idea
would also include their physical transformation, but unfortunately, the texts
are rather vague here. Since we have the precedent of the ascent apocalypses,
I am inclined to see the angelification as a realistic option (with the angelifica-
tion of the individual in the ascent apocalypses transferred to the community in
Qumran). Yet still a caveat is in order. The only explicit case of an angelification
remains the Self-Glorification Hymn, which, not by coincidence, comes closest
to the ascent apocalypses.
These findings inevitably exclude the notion of a union with God, whether of
the Qumran community at large or of that chosen individual speaking in the Self-
Glorification Hymn. We must not confuse “communion” with “union” — not with
regard to human beings and angels, and even less so with regard to human beings
and God. Philip Alexander has made this clear with admirable lucidity:
Where does Qumran stand on this issue [the question of a mystical union with God]?
The position there seems to be unequivocal: there is no absorption into God. The high-
est transformation that the mystic can undergo is into an angel, not into God, and angels
are definitely not God. The Scrolls do indeed use language which at first sight danger-
term
ously blurs the boundary between God and the angels (e. g., by applying the same
inspection shows that in fact
’Elohim apparently indiscriminately to both), but closer
our authors evince a deep consciousne ss of the
the distinction is rigidly maintained:
 350 Chapter 9

difference between God and the angels, even the highest of the angels. The angels are
outside the Godhead.
Despite this unambiguous clarification, Alexander nevertheless intimates that
the hero of the Self-Glorification Hymn, in taking “his seat in heaven above the
angels,” achieves “a classic component of mysticism: ... communion or union
with the divine.”4> To be sure, Alexander does not explicitly say that the hero
of the Self-Glorification Hymn unites with the divine, but he apparently blurs
the boundaries. This becomes clear also from the fact that he ponders the pos-
sibility not just of the hero’s angelification but even of his “apotheosis” and that
he declares, precisely in this connection, the “communion or union with the
divine’’*? to be a “classic component of mysticism.” Here Alexander softens his
earlier definition of mysticism, which distinguishes so carefully between “com-
munion” and “union.’”47
Finally, if there is no vision of God in Qumran, there is also no purpose to
the vision. But of course there is a purpose to the whole exercise of humans en-
tering into a close relationship with angels, howsoever and to whatever extent
achieved. And here the Temple-critical approach, with the sacrifice shifted from
the polluted Temple in Jerusalem to the celestial Temple and with the angels in
heaven officiating as the legitimate priests and high priests, connects (some of)
the Qumran texts again with the ascent apocalypses and disconnects them quite
dramatically and blatantly from the Hekhalot literature. This, in my view, is one
of the most significant results of our survey and one that can hardly be neutral-
ized by the strained efforts of some scholars to turn the Hekhalot literature into
a document deeply imbued with priestly ideology.

The Rabbis

My survey of the relevant passages in the classical rabbinic literature (Tosefta

and Mishnah Megillah, Mishnah and Tosefta Hagigah, with their respective par-
allels in the Yerushalmi and the Bavli) led to the unequivocal conclusion
that
the rabbis were preoccupied with the exegesis of certain passages perceived
as
dangerous, and not with ecstatic experiences. There is no ascent in our rabbinic
sources, no seer, no vision, and no revelation as payoff of the vision.
Or, to be

“4 Alexander, The Mystical Texts, p. 105.

4 Tbid., p. 90.
46 My emphasis.
“7 Tbid., p. 8. He even goes a step further and also includes the
Songs of the Sabbath Sacri-
fice in this “union with the divine” scenario: “All this [the communi
on turned union in the Self-
Glorification Hymn] can easily be integrated with the Sabbath
Songs. ... One could imagine the
Self-Glorification functioning as a sort of introit to the Sabbath
Songs ... or possibly as coming
after Song 13” (ibid., p. 91 with n. 8).
 Conclusions 351

more precise, the seer turned rabbi receives his revelation through proper ex-
egesis of the Bible and discovers his God in the Torah. It is only in the Bavli that
we could make out traces of Merkavah mystical (in the technical sense of the
word) influences that, however, were immediately neutralized and rerabbinized
by the Bavli editor.
Such emphasis on the fundamentally exegetical character of the rabbinic ap-
proach to the biblical texts in question — as opposed to an experientially oriented
enterprise — has again elicited objections from certain scholars. As he did in the
case of the ascent apocalypses, Elliot Wolfson in particular emphatically and
programmatically wishes to demolish the (in his view) sterile distinction be-
tween “exegetical activity” and “ecstatic experience.” He claims that these two
domains “were not, and cannot be, held in absolute distinction’*® and that “the
effort on the part of some modern scholars to distinguish sharply between an
‘exegetical mysticism’ and an ‘experiential mysticism’ in early Jewish Merkavah
speculation is to a degree overstated.” True, he admits, “[s]tudy of Ezekiel’s
vision ... does not in and of itself constitute an ecstatic vision of the chariot,”
but still, “given the literary and conceptual continuity linking apocalyptic and
Hekhalot [literature?], it is difficult to maintain that the rabbis who lived in the
period of the Mishnah were not cognizant of heavenly ascensions to the throne
when they spoke of expounding the chariot.”°° The key word for Wolfson, fol-
lowing Rowland, is the desire also of the rabbis to “reexperience” what they
have come across in the Bible and related texts.°! “Exegesis,” Wolfson argues,
is never “devoid of any experiential component,” and, therefore, we are well
advised “on the one hand, not to characterize rabbinic exegesis of the chariot
as fundamentally nonmystical ... and, on the other, to recognize the midrashic
underpinning of ecstatic visions.”*” Summarizing Wolfson’s approach, Boustan
grants him that “he rightly emphasizes the generative relationship [!] between
discursive and embodied practices in the formation of mystical experience.”°?
Unfortunately, these bold statements are not bolstered by any rabbinic evi-
dence that connects the exegetical and experiential aspects of the enterprise.
Resorting to the outdated stereotype of an unbroken continuity between the as-
cent apocalypses, the rabbis’ dealings with Ezekiel 1, and the Hekhalot litera-
ture — a very Scholemian concept, to boot — fails to do the trick. Of course the
rabbis were “cognizant of heavenly ascensions to the throne when they spoke
of expounding the chariot,” but they did everything in their power to mitigate
the dangers attendant to such heavenly ascents, even and especially when they

mS
8 Wolfson, Speculum, p. 121.
9 Ibid., p. 122.
&
n
0 Tbid., p. 123.
5! Tbid.
22 [bid., p. 124.
nA
3 Boustan, “Study of Heikhalot Literature,” p. 145.
 352 Chapter 9

could not refrain (in the Bavli) from Merkavah mystical experiences. It was
least of all in the rabbinic exegeses that we were able to discover any traces of
the rabbis’ physical and bodily “reexperiencing” the complex web of literary
allusions taken from the Bible and related documents. That ultimately the rab-
binic exegesis of the chariot, in Wolfson’s view, turns out to be “mystical” is all
the more surprising if we remember his definition of “mysticism” vis-a-vis the
Qumran evidence.**

Philo

Standing out as the truly exceptional phenomenon of our survey is Philo. Evok-
ing once again Ezekiel’s schema, Philo provides us with an ascent, a seer, a vi-
sion, and, most important, a transformation of the seer. But the meaning of these
components has dramatically changed. Cladding his biblical Vor/age in the gar-
ment of Platonic philosophy, Philo for the first time distinguishes unequivocally
between body and soul, a distinction that was alien to (or problematic for) most
of the other texts that we have discussed. Accordingly, the ascent for Philo is
not the ascent of body and soul but solely the ascent of the soul:°> anyone who
renounces the temptations of the body can undertake such an ascent, but it is in
fact solely reserved for the prophets and true philosophers (including Philo).
Nor does the vision conform to the pattern that we are familiar with from the
ascent apocalypses and the Hekhalot literature. When the soul returns to its di-
vine origin, after its death or during the lifetime of certain chosen individuals, it
does not “see” God in order to receive a message; rather, it becomes overpow-
ered by the divine essence and is transformed into something completely new,
a different — though for the one who undertakes the journey during his lifetime
only temporary — state of existence. Achieving this new state, the individual soul
loses its individuality and unites with the divine. This “merging” of the human
soul in the divine may be called, in the true sense of the phrase, unio mystica.
It certainly comes closest to what is captured under the terms “divinization” or
“deification.”
Moreover, since here the revelation and its corresponding message as
the
purpose of the traditional vision are relinquished, Philo’s “vision” — resulting
in
the complete transformation of the “seer’s” soul — becomes a truly and uniquely

4 Wolfson, “Mysticism,” p. 187; see above, p. 19. To state my point

clearly, I am not ad-
vocating an axiomatic dichotomy between “midrash” and “mystical
experience” — I am aware
that mystical texts can be heavily exegetical and that exegetical
texts can have mystical com-
ponents — but I would like to see more of this cherished mystical
element in rabbinic exegesis;
see also above, pp. 338 f. ;
°° Hence, quite ironically, when Scholem speaks of the ascent
of the soul in Merkavah mys-
ticism, he is influenced by Philo (and by what he called Gnostici
sm).
 Conclusions 353

individualistic experience. It is only a very special individual who, during his

lifetime, can achieve the desired goal of uniting his soul with the divine and
bringing to ultimate perfection his human existence. This is what human beings
are supposed to do, but unfortunately very few specimens of the human race at-
tain this goal. Hence, Philo’s program is deeply elitist and not particularly con-
cerned about the destiny of the community. True, the philosopher is part of his
community and it is his task to lead its members to perfection, but in reality only
very few chosen members of the community are capable of realizing this goal.
It is also in this regard that Philo is far removed from the ascent apocalypses,
Qumran, the rabbis, and the Hekhalot literature.

Mysticism

As to be expected, it turns out that the phenomena collected and described under
the headings “Ezekiel,” “Ascent Apocalypses,” “Qumran,” “Philo,” “The Rab-
bis,” and “Merkavah Mystics” are greatly diverse and resist the modern scholar’s
desire to subsume them under a single all-embracing category. Ezekiel’s open
heaven differs from the ascent in the ascent apocalypses, and the ascent in the as-
cent apocalypses differs from the ascent of the Merkavah mystic in the Hekhalot
literature or from the elevation among the angels of the Self-Glorification
Hymn’s hero, not to mention the differences with Philo’s ascent of the soul and
with the rabbis’ careful and cautious exegesis of Genesis 1 and Ezekiel 1. What
nevertheless unites all these variegated efforts that are reflected in their respec-
tive bodies of literature is the craving of their authors to bridge the gap between
heaven and earth, between human beings and heavenly powers, between man
and God. In most cases, moreover, it is the attempt to restore the lost relation-
ship of some ancient and originally whole past: because the Temple as the natural
venue for the encounter between God and his human creatures on earth has been
destroyed or polluted or usurped by a competing community, because the soul,
severed from its divine origin, has been entombed in its human body; or because,
after the termination of prophetical revelation, the Torah has become the only
vehicle for approaching God. So, at stake in our sources — a wide range of dis-
crete forms and implementations notwithstanding — is the attempt to get (back)
to God as close as possible, to experience the living and loving God, despite the
desolate situation on earth with all its shortcomings and catastrophes.
The experience of the living and loving God is reserved for the individual
enter-
(with the conspicuous exception of the Qumran sectarians’ communal
fluctuates between the two poles of the unique
prise), and here the spectrum
in most
and chosen individual and everyone who fulfills certain conditions. Yet
sake of the individua l or an end in itself but
cases, this experience is not for the
l is deemed worthy of experienc ing
community-oriented, that is, the individua
 354 Chapter 9

God for the sake of his community on earth. There are only a few exceptions
to this rule, namely, the individual who sallies forth on his last journey and the
soul returning to its place of origin. Furthermore, the communities that the seer
represents are highly diverse: from Ezekiel’s exiled Israelites to the various geo-
graphically as well as chronologically distinct communities standing behind the
ascent apocalypses, to the Qumran sectarians, to Philo’s Alexandrian brand of
Judaism, to the rabbinic elite in Palestine and Babylonia, and through to the elu-
sive circles behind the Hekhalot literature that we try to localize in the cultural
realm of Byzantine and Babylonian Judaism.
If at all, it is this experience of the living God (that is, the God who is physi-
cally present, and approachable, in his heavenly sanctuary) and the loving God
(that is, the God who still loves his people of Israel on earth) that binds our
sources together and that might be called their recurrent theme or even common
denominator. But this does not mean that we are able to pursue our common de-
nominator in a linear development that “originates” with Ezekiel, unfolds and
accumulates progressively through the various stations that we have reviewed,
and finally climaxes in the Hekhalot literature. The variety of sources, motifs,
and emphases clearly does not allow for such a harmonious and ultimately sim-
plistic view; in a certain sense we must be capable of bearing the polymorphic
and even chaotic evidence that our sources confront us with. Not least, the ro-
mantic quest for “origins” has turned out to be a futile and methodologically
misguided exercise.
Finally, do our findings add up to something that could adequately be cap-
tured under the heading “mysticism”? One could argue that precisely this crav-
ing for the experience of a living and loving God — with its retention, in most
cases, of the individual’s corporality and, even more important, the individual’s
personal identity and integrity, thus preventing a mystical union with God — that
precisely this experience constitutes the particularly Jewish form of mysticism
in contrast to other forms, not least the Christian variety. | admit that I still have
some sympathy for such a claim — even after all that has been said in the pages
of this book — and be it only for heuristic purposes. But the craving for the liv-
ing and loving God and the experience that he still exists obviously applies to
so many more texts that we have not included in our survey that we run the risk
of voiding the category of “mysticism” and ultimately rendering it meaningless
by confusing mysticism with religion. We should also not forget that
what we
call mysticism has no equivalent in any of the languages in which our
sources
are preserved.

That said, should we share the scathing criticism recently uttered by

Boaz Huss,
who maintains that the categories of mysticism in general, and that
of Jewish
mysticism in particular, are based on Christian theological concept
s that, in the
 Conclusions BSS

wake of Western imperialist and colonialist efforts, have been imposed on non-
Western societies and religions?°° These are generalizations, I am afraid, behind
which the chimera of an essentialist approach again raises its head — this time not
of a pan-mystical essentialism but of an essentialism that identifies mysticism
with Christian theology (based on a superficial concept of mysticism as well as
of theology). Yet despite such qualms, we should take seriously the possibil-
ity that the history of research on mysticism — Jewish and non-Jewish alike — is
deeply imbued with Christian theological assumptions and biases. These impli-
cations should indeed warn us against being too enthusiastic about adopting the
category of mysticism within a Jewish context. Against this background, mysti-
cism turns out to be an inappropriate category to prove that the Jewish religion
exhibits the same characteristics as its Christian counterpart (apart from the fact
that the apologetic attitude of this approach is highly problematic in itself). Fur-
thermore, the universalistic and ahistorical tendencies inherent in such a con-
cept of mysticism run counter to everything that our survey has yielded. In the
end, however, the answer to the question of whether or not mysticism remains a
meaningful category for the period under consideration — that is, before the rise
of Kabbalah in Western Europe — becomes largely a matter of taste. I would not
want to promote a ban on the use of the term “mysticism” — similar to how other
scholars have been trying to exorcize the use of the term “magic,” interestingly
enough for much the same reasons — since bans smack strongly of political cor-
rectness and are hardly conducive to promoting uninhibited scholarly discourse.
Yet I do hold that the term and its conceptual parameters are of limited benefit
for our understanding of the phenomena that we have discussed.

56 Huss, “Mystification.”
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 Source Index

Hebrew Bible

22:2 3714
Genesis
1 30-31, 181, 185, 209, 22d 286n162
211, 212, 293n204 28:3 42n56
1:2 208, 234 34 68
181 35:11 42n56
2 179
1:6 fff. 42 35:22
17 58, 107n84, 208 37:20 39n33
177n6 38 179
1:14-17
81 38:7 161
1:26
44 43:14 42n56
1:26f.
44n61, 163 48:3 42n56
$27
39n33 49:9 109
1:28
49:10 109
2:24 173
=) 53
53 Exodus
5:21-23
3:2-6 45
§:21-24 319
By) 57nl11
3223) 9
Tiplg653 16,321 6:3 42n56
5:24
qs 89
32, 74
Gal9 ft: 89
6:14 54
8:1 89
7:14, 21 39n33
8:12 89
8:19 39n33
12 109n88
8:21 69, 140
14:22 248n31, 288n173
9:12 89
Losi 147
9:12 f. 47
15:19 288n173
11:26-29 87
19f. 45, 56
42:1 170
87, 89 19:6 109n89
15 107
90 19:16 ff.
15:2,
19:9 45, 50
15:9 89
19:18 188, 206
15:10 89
19:20 45
15:11 90
20:13 251n38
15:12 165
20:16 45
T5217, 90
20:18 45
90
15:18-21
17:1 42n56, 91 20:19 45
374 Source Index

21:9 106n78 213 232n77

20 106n78 21:17-21 122
2112 106n78 22:24 232
21:14 106n82 26:6 39n33
231 296n219, 296n222, 320
24 43n59 Numbers
24:2 166 5:14 121
24:10 43, 89, 134,
172 53 in
24:12 167 6:24-26 179
26:31-33 136n88 10:8 216n8
28 106n79 EF 63n41
28:4 ff. 140 12:8 44n60
28:17-21 106 14:10 48n68
28:20 40n41 16:19 48n68
28:21 106 18:19 137n96
28:31 139n102 19:17 34
28:32 140 27:20 240n115
28:39 88n9 28:9f. 131
30:22—29 82n114
30:35 137n96 Deuteronomy
31:4 135n74 4:11f. 107
32:1-20 179 4:15 44n60
32:21-25 179 432 2LOL 212, 223
32:35 179 4:32a 209, 210
33 44, 45, 46n64, 80n104 4:32b 209, 210
33:9 46 4:32¢ 209
B31 46 5:4 188
33:17-23 156 Suh 289
33:18 156 S225 289
33:20 46, 63n41,
80, 289 23:2-3 251n40
3322 te 46 23:10-15 121
33235 91 23:15 121
34:5f. 305 26:15 129n40
36:35 136n88 30:20 168n63
39:22 139n102,
140 32:14 208
39:27 140 32:43 326n374
39:28 88n9 33 167
40:34f. 48n68 Bow 239, 248
Leviticus Joshua
2213 137n96 2:19 272
9:23 48n68
15:13 34 I Samuel
16:2 136n88 1:15 168
16:4 61 4:4 39n34
16:17 169n69
18 214 2 Samuel
18/20 S0N18Ie 210 6:2 39n34
 Source Index By

7:14 326n373 48:2 239

ih 179 48:12 108
13 179 53 148
22:10 35n7 So 25 148
53:4-7 109n88
I Kings 62:8 248
2:19 249 63:8 125n31
6:2 248n27 63:9 125, 125n31
6:3 59, 59n25, 136n82 66:1 PIB}|
65 I9RIS2
6:23-28 39 Jeremiah
6:29-35 136n85 lee 34
7:23-39 41 1:9 44
7:50 248n27 Lala 137n94
8:11 48n69 1:17 137n94
8:13 141 3:14 234, 236
19:11f. 239, 47n64 3:22 234, 236
19:12 138 14:21 70n68
22:19-23 62 WA 70n68
22:19 44n62, 248 25:34 264n92
2 Kings Ezekiel
iT 84, 176, 319 1 27, 30-31, 104n65, 176—
19:15 39n34 182, 185, 187, 193, 200,
20:18 129n41 207, 211-212, 214, 231,
289n180
Isaiah et. 36
3:1-5 231 IPs 35n3
3:1-7 231, 241 i22 35
333 225n46 1:3 35
6:1 34, 44, 289 1:4-26 229, 241
6:2 39, 108, 229 1:4 227, 229, 293n201, 294
6:3 79, 108, 136, 254, 259, 15 108
261, 263, 266 1:6 107, 229
Liat 109 isi 137n94
11:10 109 1:9 137n94
14:14 224 1:10 108, 229
14:15 224 112 137n94
1S 13 107, 134, 288
28:16
290n181 1:14 134n72, 229, 289
29:7
39n33 Tats 138, 229
35:9
39n34 1:16 40n41,89
37510
44n60 EMT) 137n94
40:18
44n60 1:18 79, 108, 280n134
40:25
108 1:20 138
41:4
72n77 1:22) 57, 107, 134
41:8f.
37n14, 72n77 122T 137, 287
42:1
44:6 108 123 137n94
376 Source Index

1:24 91, 138, 191 11:14 52

1:24f. 138 PESES Pil
25 138, 191, 254, 296n223 11:16 51
1:26—28 105 16:2 179
1:26 73n79, 88, 89, 135n76, 221 36
137, 227, 294, 309, 28:13 40n41, 74n86, 106n79
310n296 40-48 51, 184
1:26f. 103n63, 241 40:1 37n18
P27 GieIS58a227.228,2295 40:1f. Sif
241, 297 40:2 35n3, 37, 128
PATA. 229 40:48 136n82
1:28-3:15 48 4l 136
1:28 58, 89, 101, 134, 138, 41:18 136
140n111, 191, 228, 240, 41:25 136
288, 288n174, 291 43:3 50
2h 226, 287 44:18 88n9
2D 104 46:4f. 131
2:4 48
237, 50 Hosea
2:9f. 108 13215 264n92
2:10 108
341 108 Amos
S27 50 4:13 215
Ssh 48 Ae 44
3:12-15 48 9:9 44
Sa A 49n75, 268, 290
BRIAR 138, 191 Nahum
3:14 58, 104 2:10 264n92
3505 34
3:16 ff. 49 Habakkuk
S22 37n18 207. 112
3:22; 35n3
3:23 48n70 Zechariah
3:26 59 3:6 88n9
4:13 34
37n18 Malachi
8:3 37, 104 371 252n41
83m 35n3 3:2-5 252
8:16 248n27 35 251n37
8:41 248n27 323 352n42
10 135n76, 137, 176, 178,
181 Psalms
10:2 138 Dee! 37n14, 326n373
10:9 40n41 HS 7 192n68, 193
1013 287 £541 192, 193
10:14 40n40, 229 16:5f. 124n27
11:1 104 16:11 191, 192
11:3 52 24:3 192,193
 Source Index a77

34:9 5 10:35 223

45:6 326n375 25:2, 284n154
45:16 129n41 25:16 196, 233
65:5 193
68:5 79n101, 224, 248n28 Job
73:26 124n27 1:6-12 62
80:2 39n34 2:1-6 62
84:5 192, 193 25:2 57n13
96:12 188 25:3 229
99:1 39n34 26:9 291n192
101:7 202 33°15 290n181
102:26 326n376 37:18 42
104:3 134n69 38:7 124,125
104:25 39n33 40:15-24 200
110:1 249, 326n377 41:1-34 200
118:9(LXX) 159n23
118:16 (LXX) 159n23 Song of Songs
118:17 (LXX) 159n23 1:10 189, 190n57
118:25 (LXX) 159n23 1:4 197, 199, 200, 200n119,
118:28 (LXX) 159n23 201n120, 237
118:42 (LXX) 159n23 4:11 226
118:57 (LXX) 159n23 5:9-16 262
118:67 (LXX) 159n23 5:10—-16 300, 301, 308
118:74 (LXX) 159n23 5-16 309
118:81 (LXX) 159n23 5:10 239
118:101 (LXX) 159n23 Silt 230
118:114 (LXX) 159n23
118:139 (LXX) 159n23 Ecclesiastes
118:147 (LXX) 159n23 5:5 197, 234, 234n82
118:160 (LXX) 159n23
118:169 (LXX) 159n23 Daniel
119:18 128 1:4 129n41
140:14 192, 193 4 44, 60, 73, 105, 241
142:6 124n27 7:9 44, 61, 73, 89, 103n63,
148:7 188n52 105, 230
148:8 215 7:9 f. 60
148:9 188n52 7:10 61, 62, 73n81, 74n86, 75,
148:14 188n52 136n86, 229, 288
116:15 196 7:13 249n32, 333
TABE TB
Proverbs 7:14 109
8 326 Tae 118n14
8:5 326 PAY 109, 118n14
8:6 326 8:1f. 290n181
8:8 326 10:13 141n116
8:11 326 10:20f. OU7,
8:13 326 10:21 141n116
8:22 160 11:30 iy
378 Source Index

1231 117, 141n116 2 Chronicles

OE. 161 eM 48n69
123 42, 125n30 3:14 136n88
4:22 248n27
Ezra SLD) 264n92
4:36 101
10:15 42n56

1 Chronicles
28:11 136n82
28:18 135n76

Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

Sapientia Salomonis 14:18 101, 107n84

7:26 162 14:20 101
9:1 159n27 14:22 81
14:24 58n17, 72, 81
Jesus Sirach sk 63,95
B21 f. 221n27 16:4 63
24:23 159n24 17-19 54, 63
49:8 135n76, 178n11 20-36 54, 63
20:8 101
3 Maccabees 223 80,82
6:18 36n11 D225 81
22:8 82
I Enoch 36ff. 83
1-36 27, 54, 345n32 37-71 28, 72
1—5 54 372. 83
4:20 105 39:3 TZ
4:21 105n73 39:6 1B
6-11 54, 63, 65 39:8 72
9:1 119n17, 126 39:14 72
9:4 70n68 40:2 f. 126
12-16 54, 55 40:9 126
12 5) 46:1 73
12:12 a)5) 46:4-47:4 73
12:4 95 47:3 73n81
13 35) 56:2 83
14 Dp see idagraAs 60 73
293n202 60:1 13
14:5 56 ofl 74
14:8 ff. 72 eel 74
14:9 59n25 ioe 229n64
14:10 107 Wes 75
14:13 64 71:6 229n64
14:13f. 72 71:8 75
 Source Index 379

71:8 fff. 126 12:8 89

71:9 f. 119 12:10 90
1I3f, 90
2 Enoch sya | 90
1:1 Ta 15:2 90
1:4 314n325 16:1 90
eS 101 TRA 91,92
1:8 78 17:8-21 91
10:2 229 18 92
13 313n314 18:1f. 91
18:1 315n326 18:11 92n27
20:1 78 18:14 92
eu 719 25:18 93
IND 719 27 87
21:4 79 SP II 93
20:5 79 29 87
21:9 106n78 29:1-13 93n29
Zeit 106n78
20212 106n78 Apocalypse of Zephaniah
221 79, 80, 82, 105 2 100
22:4 106 3 100
2285 81 52 99n49
22:8 82 4 100
22:9 101 5 100
36 ff. 83 6 100
BEL 83 6:8 100
56:2 83 6:11 100, 105n74
60 333 6:13 105n74
71 333 6:17 101
4 101
2 Baruch 8:1 101
2251 104n65 9:1 102
5535 101 9:3 102
63:6 101 9:5 102
10:12f. 111n92
Apocalypse of Abraham 11 102
8:1-3 87 12 102
9 87
Ascension of Isaiah
9:5 89
9:6 87 1-5 93
9:9 87 6-11 93
10:2 88 6:8 94
10:3 88 6:9 94
10:4 88 6:13-16 94
10:8 f. 88 6:15 94
Diet 88 6:17 94,95
11:2 105n74 225: 96
12:6 89 8:5 95
380 Source Index

8:7 95 a1 36, 70
8:14 97n40 8 70
8:16f. 96 8:2 70
8:13 96 8:3 71
9:2 97 8:4 70
9:9 97 8:16f. 71
9:27 97 9:9 Ti
9:33 97 9:10 71
9:37 97, 98 14:1 qh
9:38 97, 98 14:5 71
10 98 18:2 7h
10:2 98n42 18:6 36, 71
1132 98 18:8 7A
18:10 78
Testament of Levi
Dest 194n79 Testament of Judah
2:6 36, 68 24:2 36
2:10 36, 68
3:46 141 Testament of Isaac
3:4 68 5:21-25 229

Qumran

1QpHab Phi2 Sif 129n38

XII:7 f. 112n1 IV, 22-28 129

1017-18 10M
126n33 I, 9-12 Bey
VII, 3-7 120, 121
1QOS VII, 4 121
VI, 4-6 114n5 VII, 6 120
VI, 19 115 VII, 7 121
Wile? 115 XII, 1-5 119
VIII, 4-10 115n7 XII, 5 120
VIII, 4 115 XII, 7-9 118
VIII, 5 128 XV, 14 118
IX, 3-5 114n4 EXGaE te 118n15
IX, 3 114 IX, 10ff. 119
IDS. Sie 115 IX, 14-16 119
XI, 5-8 27
LORE
1QSa (1Q28a) XI, 19-23 123
II, 3-10 120n18 X22 125
XIV, 12f. 125
1QSb (1028b) XIV, 13 129
NR Shai 130n42 XIV, 28 130
XIX, 10-14 123n23
 Source Index 381

XIX, 14 125 20 ii-21-22 = 137n94, 138nn99-100

XXIII, 6 125 22 141n113
XXVI 146, 149nn151-155 o33 139nn102, 103
oa
2019-20 ii 140nn107, 110
126n33 40427 (4QH")
7, col. I 146, 147n141,
3Q5 148nn143-144, 146-
126n33 148, 149nn151-155,
150nn162, 164
40176a+b
126n33 40471°
. 1-2 146, 147n141,
4216-224 148nn143-148, 150n162
126n33
40482
40400 126n33
li 132n52
2 132n55 4049]
11, col.I 146n135
40401
14i 132n55 40491°
1 146, 147, 148nn144-147,
40403 149, 149nn150, 158,
li 133nn61-66, 134n68 150nn162, 165
1 ii 134nn70-71, 73, 122 146
135n75
11Q12
40405 126n33
14-151 136nn81, 84
15 ii-16 136n86 11Q17
19 136nn89-93 Ix 140n106

Philo

De Abrahamo De Congressu Eruditionis Gratia

58 172n82 14 164n48
80 155n9, 171n80
De Ebrietate
De Cherubim 30f. 160n30
27 173n87 132 168n66

De Confusione Linguarum De Fuga et Inventione

95-97 172n84 12 159n21
95 155n9 166-168 169n70
97 155n9
146f. 158n19
382 Source Index

De Gigantibus De Specialibus Legibus

14 162n40 Wasp 156n11
B0u 162n38 I, 34 156n12
49 172n81 I, 35 156n13
I, 41 156nn14, 15
De Migratione Abrahami 1, 45 157n16
34 f. 173n85 I, 46-49 156n17
I, 81 158n20
De Mutatione Nominum
11ff. 156n11 De Vita Mosis
1127 158n20
De Opificio Mundi Il, 288 167n60
19f. 158n20
24 159n21 Legum Allegoriarum
69 163n44 I, 108 161n35
70f. 171n79 de Sidlwee 173n88
146 162n42 II, 85 173n88
Ill, 69 161n33
De Plantatione Ill, 72 162n37
64 168n65 Il, 110f. 166n58

De Posteritate Caini Quaestiones et Solutiones in Exodum

12 168n63 II, 29 166n59, 167
28 155n9 II, 40 167n61

De Praemiis et Poenis Quis Rerum Divanarum Heres Sit

39f. 171n80 63 169n72
40 156n11 69F. 170n74
230f. 163n44
De Sacrificiis Abelis et Caini 259 165n54
78 ; 163n46, 164n47 263-65 165n56

De Sommiis Quod Deus Immutabilis Sit

7S 158n20 Siltte 158n19
Il, 13 164n52 92 164nn49, 50
II, 185 169n69 143 164n51
II, 231 169n69
M2324. 169n68

New Testament

Matthew Mark
3:16f. 37n13 1:10f. 37n13
10:2 103n59 ° 3:17 103n59
26:64 249 14:62 249n33
 Source Index 383

Luke Revelation
SA lig 37n13 ee) 103n56
6:14 103n59 1:4 103n56
22:30 107n82 1:8 108n87
22:69 249n33 1:9 103nn56,
60
24:10 315n326 1:10 104n66
1:12 ff. 104n66
John 1:13-16 105n70
1:29 109n88 ileals) 103n63
1:32-34 37n13 2 103n61
1:36 109n88 3 103n61
151 37n15 4 103
20:12 315n326 4:1 104
4:1 ff. 37n12
Acts of the Apostles 4:11 110
7:51-53 304n270 5 103, 108
TES Se 36 Sel 108
7:56 104n65 See 108
10:11 104n65 328) 108
10:11 ff. 36 5:6 109
Bat 109
2 Corinthians 5:9 109
12:1—5 335n5 SeiZ 110
S13 110
Galatians 104
3:19 304n270 19:9 104n67
20:11 105n69
Philippians 21:6 108n87
2:6-11 324 22:3f. 105n69
22:8 103n56
Hebrews 2213 108n87
1:3-4 325
2:1-3 304n270

Josephus Flavius

Bellum Antiquitates
2:129-132 114n5 15:136 304n270

Rabbinic Literature

Mishna Rosh ha-Shanah

Berakhot 4:5 286n163

221 253n47
384 Source Index

Megillah Talmud Yerushalmi

4:6 177nn5, 7 Bikkurim
4:10 179nn14, 16, 211 2:1/3, fol. 64c 205n141

Hagigah Shegalim
2:1 30, 180, 185, 209n164, 6:1/26, fol. 49d 207n154
210n168, 211, 215, 218,
219nn15, 19, 222, 225, Yoma
284 1:1/37, fol. 38d 216n9
222 225
Rosh ha-Shanah
Avot 2:5/2, fol. 58a 57n15
1:1 297
1:4 ff. 225 Megillah
La} 288n175, 292 1:12/9, fol. 72b 216n9
2:8f. 187n50
3:14 264n92 Hagigah
2:1/1-2:1/33, fol. 77a—c 214nl
Middot
2:1/7, fol. 77a Z1SDS;
4:5 205n141 218n12
2:1/8, fol. 77a 206n144,
Niddah
219n16
2 200n116 2:1/9 f. fol.77a 188n51
DVM fol fia 191n63
Yadayim
2:1/13, fol. 77a/b 208n160
335 311n302 2:1/14, fol. 77b 196n89,
219n21
Tosefta
2:1/15, fol. 77b 197n99
2:1/15 end —2:1/17, fol. 77b 221n23
Berakhot
2:1/15f., fol. 77b 199n111
4:18 195n83 2:1/18, fol.77b 197n99
2:1/18, fol. 77b — 2:1/29,
Hallah
fol. 77c 221n24
1:10 270n110 2:1/20f., fol. 77b 189n56
21/30) fol; 77e 221n27
Megillah
DA 34., folsere 209n163
3 (4):28 177n8, 179, 211 2:1/42, fol. 77c 204n137
3 (4):31-38 179n17
3 (4):34 179n18, 211 Sota
8:3/22, fol. 22d 207n154
Hagigah
Dk 182n29, 185, 186n41, Horayot
247 3:3/37, fol.47d 216n9
aD 195n80
DEBME. 197n94 Talmud Bavli
2:5 208n159 Berakhot
2:6 204n136, 206n145
UST) Ta 258n68, 270n111
209n163, 210n168
 Source Index 385

34b 303n263 Niddah

62a 248n31 17b 200n116

Shabbat Midrash
64a—b 205n142
Sifre Numbers
Pesahim
§ 75 216n9
26a 205n141 § 103 291n191

Betzah Sifre Deuteronomy

9a 200n117 § 10 192nn66, 69
§ 47 192n66
Megillah
§ 306 125n29
25a—b 179n17
Midrash Tannaim
Hagigah p. 6 192nn66, 69
11b—13a 223n33
11b 209n163, 222n31, 223n32 Bereshit Rabbah
12a 314n324 1 159n25
12b 141n115, 224n37 3 134n69
13a 224n39, 225n47, 227n52, 1:5 182n28, 222n29
228n55, 258n68 1:10 222n28
13b-14a 229n63 E15 222n30
13b 229n62 2:4 208n160, 233n81
14a 230nn70—71 8:1 314n324
14b—-15a 232n76 25-4} 321n359
14b—1l6a 231n73 65:21 125n29
14b 188n51, 194n78, 196n90, 68:12 261n79
197n99, 202n128 82:2 261n79
15a—b 236n99
15a 197n99, 208n160, Wayyigra Rabbah
233n80, 234n87, 322n362 4:1 248n3 1
15b 97n39, 197n99, 237n101, 16:4 190n59
238n102, 286n165 20:10 204n138
16a 239n108, 240n111 30:2 192n66
23:13 205n142
Sanhedrin
38a 322n362 Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah
56a 251n39 1:28 200n119
53 190n57
Avodah Zarah
3b 322n362 Pesigta de-Rav Kahana
272 192n66
Zevahim
13a 216n9 Midrash Tehillim
11:6 192nn66, 69
Hullin
91b 261n79
386 Source Index

Targum Pseudo Jonathan

Fragment Targum Gen 28:12 261n79
Gen 28:12 261n79

Hekhalot Literature

§§ 1-3 316 § 70 318n349

§1 246n14, 316 §§ 71-80 318n348
§2 3 § 73 315n328
§§ 3-5 296n218 § 76 296n220, 319
§3 319 § 77 296n220
§§ 4-40 319 §§ 81-93 245
§4 319 §§ 81-276 244
§5 319 §§ 81-306 244
§6 317n336, 319 § 81 245n13, 247, 253, 254,
§§ 7-8 319 254n51, 259n71, 268
§9 319 §§ 81f. 248, 305
§ 10 319 § 82 249, 250, 250n35
§ 11 320 § 83 250
§ 12 315n328, 320 §§ 83 ff. 320n353
§ 13 320 § 84 250, 301
§ 14 128n35, 320, 326 § 85 250
§ 15 236n92 § 86 251
§ 16 320 § 91 250
§ 18 320 § 92 248n30, 253n46
§ 19 320 § 93 246n18, 253, 253n45,
§ 20 235n90, 236nn92, 94, 276n130, 335n4
246n15, 322 §§ 94-106 254, 259, 259n71, 260
§ 26 301n252 § 94 135n78, 254, 254nS51,
§ 32 - 315n327 259n71, 264n92
§ 33 315n327 § 95 254, 259n71
§ 39 315n327 § 96 254
§ 41 315n327 § 97 254
§ 58 230n68 § 98 254
§§ 59-70 317 § 99 135n79, 254
§ 59 318n340 § 101 255, 260n73
§ 60 318n341 § 102 198n107, 255, 301n251
§ 61 318n342 §§ 103f. 255
§ 62 318n343 § 104 259
§ 63 318n344 § 106 256
§§ 64f. 318n345 §§ 107-121 256, 268
§ 65 318n349 § 108 276
§ 66 318n346 § 109 195n84, 271n114
§ 67 230n68, 318n347 § 120 258n66
§§ 68-70 318n248 §§ 122-126 258
§ 69 318n350 § 122 343n22
 Source Index 387

§ 123 258, 258n65 § 200 269, 269n108, 273, 277,

§ 125 343n23 279n132
§§ 125. 258 § 201 268n105, 269, 269n108,
§ 126 258 270, 278
§§ 130-138 258 § 202 270
§ 139 258n66 §§ 202 ff. 9534
§§ 140-145 258 § 203 95, 195n85, 271, 276
§§ 146-151 258n68 §§ 204-218 274
§ 151 270n111 § 204 271, 271117
§§ 152-197 259 §§ 204. 300n246
§ 152 259 § 205 272
§ 154 135n78, 259n71, 264n92 §§ 206-218 272
§ 155 259n71 § 206 96n37, 272, 276
§ 156 259 §§ 206ff. 96n36
§ 157 259 §§ 213-215 273
§ 158 259n72 § 215 299n238
§ 159 198n108, 259, 263 § 216 273, 277, 279132
§§ 159 ff. 98n44 § 217 274
§ 160 260 § 218 274, 277, 279132
§ 162 92n22, 135n80, 260 § 219 274
§ 163 260, 263, 268 §§ 219ff. 96n36
§ 164 260, 261, 266, 268, § 223 275
299n237 §§ 224-228 275
§§ 165¢. 262 § 225 198n109, 246n16, 276
§ 167 262 §§ 225 ff. 95, 253n49, 303n262
§ 168 262 $1097 276, 277, 279132,
§ 169 98n44, 262 342n20
§§ 170ff. 263 § 228 95
§ 174 264 § 229 275, 275n126
§§ 178-188 265n94 § 230 96n36, 275n126
§§ 178ff. 265n94 § 231 277, 278, 293n201
§ 179 265 § 232 293n201
§§ 181f. 265 § 233 96n36, 270, 275n126,
§ 183 265 342n20
§§ 183f. 98n44, 266 § 234 268n105, 278
§ 184 265 § 235 278, 293n201
§ 188 268 §§ 235f. 275
§ 189 98n44, 265 § 236 278, 279, 292n198,
§ 190 267 293n201, 299nn239,241,
§§ 190. 267n101 342n20
§ 192 267n102 § 237 274, 279
§ 195 268 §§ 238-257 279
§ 197 268n104 § 238 279
§§ 198-267 244 § 240 279
§ 198 268, 268n105, 278 §§ 241-248 301n252
§ 199 268n105, 269n106, 272, § 241 279
278 § 242 280
§ 243 280
388 Source Index

§ 244 280 §§ 353 ff. 291

§§ 245 ff. 280 § 356 291, 308n288
§§ 246f. 255n56 § 357 292, 292n196
§ 247 280, 319 §§ 358f. 292
§ 248 280, 299241 § 360 292
§ 249 299241 §§ 362-365 292
§ 250 102n54, 280 § 364 305
§§ 251-257 280 § 366 292
§ 251 135n80, 280, 300n243 §§ 366f. 305n273
§§ 258-259 281n136, 286n165, § 367 293, 294
298n232 § 368 294
§ 258 298 §§ 369-372 294
§§ 258f. 317337 § 372 294
§ 259 298 §§ 373-374 294
§§ 267-268 281 §§ 375-406 283, 209n189
§§ 269-276 282 § 375 295
§ 277 282 § 376 295
§§ 278-280 282 § 376 ff. 307
§§ 281-294 282 § 377 295
§§ 281-306 267n103 §§ 378-383 295
§§ 282-306 244 § 384 296
§ 289 282 § 385 296
§§ 295-296 298n230 § 387 296, 296n220
§ 297 282 §§ 387f. 294n212
§ 299 302n258 § 388 296, 296n220
§ 303 246n20 § 389 296n222
§ 306 282 § 390 296
§§ 307-314. 245 § 392 297
§§ 315-317 245 § 393 297225
§§ 318-321 245,278 § 396 296n222
§ 318 292n198 § 397 297
§§ 322-334 245 § 399 296
§§ 335-517 282 §§ 400-402 297
§§ 335-374 283 § 400 297
§ 335 283 §§ 403-404 297
§ 336 285, 286 § 403 246n17
§ 337 285 §§ 405-406 298
§§ 340-343 -286n165 §§ 407-410 281136, 286n165
§§ 344-345 286n165 §§ 407-424 283, 297
§§ 344-346 286n164 §§ 407-427 298
§ 345 286n165, 287, 299n236 —-§407 298
§ 346 97n39, 238n103 §§ 407f. 317n338
§ 348 287 § 408 202n131, 298
§§ 348f. 287 § 409 202n131
§ 349 287 § 410 202n131
§§ 350 ff. 288 § 411 299, 342n20
§ 351 289 § 412 299nn240, 241
§ 352 289, 310 §§ 413-417 209
 Source Index 389

§ 417 343n22 § 579 246n17

§ 418 300 § 591 248n30
§§ 418Ff. 343n24 § 623 128n35
§ 419 290n189, 300 § 634 135n78, 264n92
§§ 420-421 301 §§ 671-672 286n165
§ 420 301 § 672 235n89, 238n104,
§ 421 301 322n362
§§ 422-424 302 § 673 97n39, 238nn104, 105
§ 422 302 § 686 135n78, 264n92
§ 424 302 § 687 135n78, 264n92
§§ 425-426 303 §§ 688-704 307
§§ 425f. 283, 283n149 § 695 307n281
§ 427 303n267 § 696 308n286
§§ 427f. 283, 283n149 § 697 308n290
§§ 428-467 295n215 § 698 308n286
§ 428 303n267 § 699 308n288
§§ 429-467 283n149, 295n215 § 700 307n285
§§ 468-488 283n149, 325n215 § 703 308n289
§ 489 303n267, 304 § 704 308n291
§§ 489-495 283, 283n149, 303 §§ 714-727 295n215
§ 490 305 §§ 728-739 295n215
§ 495 305 § 772 141n119
§§ 496f. 305n273 §§ 882-938 307n279
§§ 498-499 283 §§ 939-353 307, 307n279
§ 498 305 §§ 939-973 295n215
§ 499 305 §§ 939-978 307, 307n279
§ 500 305n274 §§ 939 ff. 307
§ 501 283n150, 305, 305n275 § 948 307, 308
§§ 502-511 283n150 § 949 308
§ 508 306 § 950 308n289
§ 512 283n150, 305n275 § 951 307n285, 308
§§ 513-517 283n150 § 954 ff. 307n279
§ 513 306
Hekhalot Genizah Fragments
§ 516 306
§ 517 306 T.-S. K 21.95.A
§§ 518-540 283n150 fol. 1b 195n86
§ 534 265n95 T.-S. K 21.95.B
§ 542 305n275 fol. 2a—b 238n103, 287n168
§ 556 199n113 T-StK 2695.6
§ 560 302nn258, 259 fol. 2a 198n108
§§ 579-580 298n229 fol. 2b 342n20
 General Index

Aaron 43, 63n41, 82, 82n113, 113, Aletheia 171n80, 312-313

115-116, 122, 128-129, 140, 166, Alexander Lysimachus 154
172, 216n8, 317 Ammi (R.) 214, 225, 225n45
Abaddon 123 Amos 44
— see also Netherworld Anafiel 236, 279-280, 301, 319, 322
Abbahu (R.) 297n226 angelification 19-20, 28-30, 81n107,
Abihu 43, 166, 172, 204-205 133, 153, 334, 336-337, 342-343,
Abraham 28, 42n56, 45, 102, 165, 349-350
169-170, 171n80, 187, 216-217, 267, Antiochus IV Epiphanes 60, 117n13
274, 286n162, 331-332 Aphrahat 324
— angelification of 28 apophaticism 341n14
— early life of 87 Agqiva (R.) 9n30, 11, 22, 32, 97, 177,
see also Abraham, apocalypse of 185-186, 190n59, 195-200, 202-203,
eerahain, apocalypse of 28-29, 86-93, 212, 214-221, 230-235, 237-241,
105n74, 111, 333, 335-336 242n116, 247, 256, 285-287, 290-295,
— Abraham’s elenitive to God 89-90 297-304, 306-307, 307n285, 310,
— appearance of the angel Iaoel to Abra- 311n302, 316, 329-330, 340, 346
ham 88-89 Aquinas, Thomas 5, 5n13
— changing form of the angels in 90 Aravot 79, 79n101, 223-224, 248,
— description of his ascent to heaven in 265n97
90 Archangels 68-69, 75—76, 78-79, 101,
— God’s voice like a fire in 91—92 119, 126, 141, 149, 149n157
— issues of idolatry in 92—93 — see also Eremiel, Gabriel, Michael,
— parallels to Hekhalot literature 92 Phanuel, Raphael
— song of with Iaoel in 91-92 ascent account(s) 65, 72, 93-94, 203,
— tension between the spoken word and 235, 238, 244, 271-275, 277, 279-281,
the vision in 87-88 283, 286, 294, 299, 300, 306, 310,
Abulafia 17n67, 19 316-317, 327-330, 335, 335n5,
adam 38, 43-46, 73, 80, 88, 134, 204, 340-341, 346
206, 206nn148, 150, 207, 269, 271, ascent apocalypse(s) 19-20, 22, 27-33,
287, 289-290, 310n296 53, 65, 67, 96, 98, 102-104, 108,
— adam gadmon 314n324 1102111, 116, 126, 128, 151,153)
Adam 53, 173, 314n324 1742175;213,2245276n130, 331-333,
Aher (Elisha b. Avuyah) 189, 196-197, 335, 337-344, 346, 348-354
199-201, 219-222, 231, 234-237, Assi (R.) 225-226
238n104, 239, 241, 246, 286n165, 322 Azazel 90
— fate of 236-237
— punishment of 235, 322n361 Bacchanalia 170, 174
Aibo (R.) 321-322 Baruch 36
i Pe General Index

Bathsheba 248 229, 229n65, 231, 268, 323-324, 335,

battle, final 29, 113, 116-122, 126, 338
150-151, 258, 328 David 102, 108-109, 147, 179, 230, 249,
— see also eschatology 257n62, 258, 292, 343n23
Behemoth 200-201 Davidic Messiah
Belial (Prince of Darkness) 117 — see Messiah, Davidic
Ben Azzai 190n59, 196, 199-200, deification 8, 19-20, 150-151, 168, 337,
202n131, 208n162, 219, 299 337n7, 343, 345, 352
Ben Zoma 196, 199-200, 203n134, — of Moses 168
206-209, 212, 219-220, 231, — quasi-deification 342
233-234, 241 Dinah 68
“binitarian” theology 33, 110-111, 323, Dumiel 270, 275, 275n126, 277-279,
330 316n335, 342n20
— binitarianism 323
Eckhart, Johannes (Meister Eckhart) 4,
cherubs 39, 39n34, 41, 57-59, 66, 4n8
136-138 ecstasy, state of 3, 6, 8, 17n67, 30, 64,
— see also keruvim 165, 169-170, 170n76, 173-174, 303,
Christianity 7-8, 16, 69, 94n31, 103n55, 344
155, 339 — Corybantic frenzy 171, 173
chrysolite 40, 40n41, 59, 60, 88-89, — see also Corybants
105n74 elders
Church Fathers 155, 324 — see Israel, elders of
communion: military communion with Eleazar b. Arakh (R.) 186-188, 188n51,
angels 116n11, 120, 190 190, 193, 195-196, 196n88, 206, 211,
— liturgical communion with angels 29, 216-217, 219-220, 226, 226n48, 231,
92, 116, 120, 122-125, 128, 132, 144, 237, 240
146, 149-152, 175-176, 281, 331, Eleazar b. Azarya (R.) 231
348-349 Eleazar b. Pedat (R.) 240
— see also “communion’’/“union” dis- Elihu 200
tinction Elijah 46n64, 84, 102, 138, 176, 237,
“communion’’/“union” distinction 8n27, 252, 31927,
18, 124, 349-350, 350n47 Elisha 189
Corybants 170-171, 174 Elisha b. Avuyah
cosmology 16, 181, 210, 210nn171, 172, — see Aher (Elisha b. Avuyah)
223-224, 258n68, 332 Enoch 12, 13n45, 15n53, 20, 27-28, 33,
creation 7, 30, 42, 44, 76, 159, 168, 172, 53-54, 83n115, 84, 86, 102, 107, 331,
180-185, 201, 208-211, 215, 222, 227, 342
240, 267, 287, 320 — angelification of 81-85
— cycle of Merkavah creation stories on — fear of 79, 79n102
220-222 — asa mediator between angels 55
— “work” of 31, 180-182, 187, 206-210, — as Metatron 318-327
212, 214-215, 218, 221n25, 222-224, — as one who “walks with God,” 53—54,
226, 231, 234, 240-241 316
— see also ma‘aseh bereshit — as the “scribe of righteousness,” 95
— as the Son of Man 76, 84
Daniel 33, 44-45, 60-62, 62n38, 72-74, — symptoms of shock displayed by
88n8, 105, 108, 110, 117, 118n14, 184, 64-65
 General Index 393

transformation of into an angel 28, 33, 239-241, 305, 308-311, 311n303,

235 330, 350-353
see also Enoch, vision of Ezekiel, vision of 35-39, 53, 56-58, 61,
Enoch, vision of 70, 72, 293n202, 313, 63-65, 108, 176, 178, 178n11, 191,
332-334, 345 331-332, 336, 343
of angels 74—75, 77-79, 79n102, 119, — archaic imagery used to describe God
314, 335-336 in 42-43, 43n59, 50-S1
anticlimax of the vision 80-81 — auditory aspects of 42—43, 48, 53
climax of the vision 60-63, 80-81 — the chrysolite throne in 40, 40n41,
Enoch’s reaction to the scene of heaven 59-60, 89
63 — climax of 43-44
function of the angels in 62-63 — coordination of the wheels and crea-
function of the heavenly Temple in tures by the spirit in 41
65-67, 67n55 — divine favor in 50
of God in heaven 55-58, 61, 76, — effects of the vision on Ezekiel 52
78-80, 80nn104, 105 — Ezekiel’s eating of the scroll 48
of the hailstones and the cherubs — Ezekiel’s feelings of afterward 49-SO,
57-58 50n77, 52
of the houses 58—59, 59n25, 293n202 — glory of God revealed in 47-49,
of the last judgment 74 49n76, 51
meaning of 63-64 — God’s appearance to Ezekiel in 44-48,
and the schema of the seven heavens 310
77-19 — stages of 38-44
of the throne 59-60, 60n27 — termination of 49
of the wall in heaven 56—57 Ezra 297
Enoch-Metatron traditions 12, 12n44,
13n45, 19-20, 33, 349 Fallen angels (Nefilim) 54-55, 63-64
Ephrem 324
Epiphanius 315 Gabriel 63n42, 75-76, 79, 108, 117, 119,
Er 161 119n17, 275, 278-279
Eremiel (Remiel) 29, 101, 105n74, 111, Gaius Caligula 154
333 Gedullah hymns 245-254, 256-257, 301,
eschatology 66, 70, 105n69, 123, 129, 305, 320n353, 327
181, 340 Greek mystery cults 1-2
eschatological battle 29, 116-117,
121-122, 151, 184 Hagar 164n48
eschatological priest 28, 36, 71, 84, Hai Gaon 303, 303n263
336 Halakhah 17, 22, 214-218, 231
eschatological savior 314 — Qumranic 22
eschatological Temple 51, 65-66, 70, Hama b. Hoshayah (R.) 321
128, 184 Hananyah b. Hakinai (R.) 195-196, Dil2s
“presentic” eschatology 123, 281n138 219
speaker of the Self-Glorification Hymn Hananyah b. Teradyon (R.) 256
150 hashmal 38, 43, 47, 105, 137-138,
exegesis 30-33, 155, 169, 175-176, 227-229, 241, 268, 294, 297-298,
178, 183-185, 187-194, 195n82, 201, 298n233, 301
201n121, 205-213, 215, 217, 220, — etymology of 38n21
997, 225-226; 228,29h, 233-234, Hasidism, in medieval Germany 10
394 General Index

havurah 95, 195, 268, 270-272, 276-277, — Isaiah’s place in the heavenly hierarchy
279, 281-282, 286, 328-329, 346, 97
347n37 — Isaiah’s vision of God 98, 98n42
hayyot 38-39, 40n40, 41, 57, 107, journey of Isaiah through the seven
134-135, 135n76, 137, 137n94, 263, heavens 96-98
265 — message of 98-99
— see also holy creatures similarity of to the havurah account in
heavens (seven) 68n58, 77-79, 88, Hekhalot literature 95
94-96, 141, 144, 153, 193n70, 210, Ishmael (R.) 11-12, 22, 33, 95, 214-215,
223, 243, 273n121, 287, 293n204, 333 245-246, 256-258, 268, 270, 271n113,
Heraclitus 161 276, 279, 282, 285, 297, 303, 305n274,
Herod 150n163, 175 307, 307n285, 315-318, 327-328, 346
Hezekiah 94, 336 Israel 28-29, 32-34, 35n3, 36-37, 43,
high priest(s) 36, 61, 66-67, 82, 82n113, 47-48, 50-51, 64, 70-71, 86, 93,
106, 106n79, 112-113, 113n2, 129, 98, 106, 106nn79, 81, 108-109, 111,
130n42, 139-142, 145, 145n129, 114-117, 128-129, 142, 184, 187-188,
151n167, 152, 169n69, 175, 205, 200, 223-224, 230, 232, 234, 248-250,
228n61, 232-233, 241, 253, 270, 250n35, 252, 255-256, 258, 261, 263,
319n351, 350 267, 274, 274n124, 281-292, 296-297,
Hillel 292, 292n198, 297 299-300, 305, 308, 311, 317, 327-328,
Hippolytus of Rome 313-315 336, 343-344, 348, 354
Hiyya (R.) 219, 224-225 — elders of 43, 104, 106-110, 166, 172,
holy creatures 224, 255, 255n5S6, 197
259-260, 262-268, 279-280, 289, 291, — God’s love for 345
295n214, 296-297, 306, 319, 328-329, — Jacob as representative of 262
342n20 — and the Qedushah 260-263, 266-268,
— see also hayyot 328
Holy of Holies 27, 39, 59, 61, 63-64, — redemption of 76, 84, 125n31, 318
66, 68, 75-76, 81, 84, 115-116, — superiority of to angels 98, 125, 262,
119, 128-129, 132-134, 136-137, 297n224, 304n270
143-144, 169n69, 205, 243, 248, 270,
345 Jacob 42n56, 45, 68, 102, 136, 171n80,
Holy Spirit 94, 96-98, 165, 314-315 256, 261-262, 266-268, 299, 328
Jehoiachin 34-36
Iaoel 28, 88-89, 91-92, 92n27, 105n74, Jerome 155, 184n35
ati Jerusalem 16, 34, 37, 100, 104, 105n69,
— clothes of 89 106, 112, 117, 120-121, 131, 141, 155,
— sapphire-like body of 89 231
ice 42, 42n49, 57-60, 75, 107, 107n84, — eschatological Jerusalem 128
134, 206 — New Jerusalem 106n78, 111
Irenaeus 312 — and the priesthood 66-67, 69, 132
Isaac 45, 71, 102, 164, 169, 267 Jesus Christ 29, 33, 37, 97, 103-104,
Isaiah, ascension of to heaven (Vision of 106n82, 109, 111, 151, 151n169, 249,
Isaiah) 29, 44, 86, 93-99, 102, 108, 314-315, 315n326, 322, 330, 343
111, 332-336 — as the “Chosen One,” 93, 93n29
— angelic state of 97-98 : — asthe Lamb 109, 111
— Christian origin of 94, 94n31 — as areflection of God’s glory 324-326
— Isaiah’s account of 94-95 — see also Son of Man
 General Index 395

“Jewish thought,” 26, 26n94 ma‘aseh merkavah 12n44, 13, 186, 190,
Joachim (son of Asaph) 95 219, 219n19, 225, 243, 244n5, 250,
John , vision of (Revelation) 29, 86, 283, 285, 298n229, 301, 302n259, 310,
103, 103n55, 105n69, 111, 332-333, 315-316
335-336 — see also Merkavah, the, “work of”
— appearance of the Messiah in 109 . Maccabees 112, 117
— inaugural vision of 104-105 magic 2, 2nl, 243, 251n37, 252n44, 272,
— the Lion of Judah and the Root of 278, 286, 355
David described in 108-109 — magical seals 278, 328-329, 340
— praise of the Lamb in 109-110 — practical magic 305-306
— vision of precious stones and the splen- Mar Shemuel 233n78
dor of God 105-106, 106nn76, 79 marble stones 107, 202—203
— vision of the scroll 108 — Agqiva’s warning concerning 230,
— vision of the Son of Man 103-105 234-235, 241, 242n116
— vision of the throne 105, 105n69, Marcus (Gnostic) 311-313
107-108 Meir (R.) 221, 237, 241
— vision of the twenty-four elders Merkavah, the 30-31, 95, 111, 135n76,
106-107 137, 143-145, 145n129, 177-184,
John the Baptist 37 186-188, 190-191, 193-201, 201n123,
John XXII (Pope) 4n8 203, 206, 208-212, 214-227, 229,
Jonathan the Maccabee 112 231-232, 236-243, 253
Joseph ha-Kohen (R.) 190-192, 220 — “work ofthe,” 31, 186-188, 190, 210,
Josiah 34 212, 219, 222-223, 225-227, 250,
285-286, 301
Kabbalah 10, 10n34, 18, 18n72, 21-22, Messiah 36-37, 76, 103, 111, 252,
44n61, 355 257-258, 258n70, 274, 281, 318,
— relationship of to Jewish mysticism 27 326, 328, 330, 340
keruvim 39, 57, 255, 259-260, 263, 268, — Davidic Messiah 109, 113, 129,
279-280, 342n20 230, 258, 318, 328
— see also cherubs — Elijah as precursor to 327
Kybele 170 — Messiah of Aaron 113, 129
— new Messiah 32
“lapis lazuli” (sappir) 43n57 - priestly Messiah 113, 129, 150
leprosy 121, 217-219, 250, 304 — Qumranic Messiah 151n169
“Lesser YHWH,” 33, 235-236, 296, 320, Metatron 92, 231, 245, 254, 254n53, 258,
322 258n68, 282-283, 283n149, 294-298,
Levi 28, 36, 67-72, 82, 84, 86, 194n79, 301, 304, 306-307, 307n279, 314n324,
252, 331-332, 336 315-318, 330, 342n20, 343, 343n23
— see also Levi, visions of — adoption of the role of Jesus by 326
Levi, visions of 28, 68-70, 332, 335 — encounter of with Aher 234-237,
Leviathan 200-201 238n104, 241, 246
Logos, the 33, 158-160, 162-163, — Enoch as Metatron 318-327, 349
165-166, 169n69, 171-174, 323 Methuselah 53, 83, 319
lunar calendar 113, 113n2 Michael 63n42, 75-76, 81-82, 119,
Lupinus 256 119n17, 149, 149n157, 333
— as the heavenly Melchizedek 314
ma‘aseh bereshit 180, 207, 310 — as heavenly Prince 117, 141
— see also creation, work of — sacrifices offered by 142
396 General Index

Middle Platonism 154, 154n1 — on the ascent of the soul/mind

Miriam 63n41 168-169
monotheism 322 — on the athlete’s and philosopher’s
— “monotheistic religion,” 322 approaches to their bodies 161-162
Moses 43, 45-48, 50, 57n11, 63n41, 80, — on the body/soul distinction 160-164,
80n104, 89, 91, 122, 126, 156-157, 175
163, 165-169, 172-174, 188-190, — concept of God 155-160
211, 240n115, 278, 285-286, 289-292, — identification of wisdom and Logos
296-297, 304-306, 321n356 159-160, 162
— onimmutable tranquility 172, 172n81
Nadab 43, 166, 172, 204-205 — on the inability of the soul to view God
Nebuchadnezzar 34, 224, 241 171-172
names, divine 32-33, 255n56, 272, — on Moses 165-168
275, 278, 285, 288-290, 292, — philosophical influences on 154,
294-297, 300, 304-306, 307n278, 154n2, 157n18
308-310, 312, 313n315, 319, — prominent role of wisdom (Sophia) in
328-330, 340 his work 159-160, 162-164, 169, 173
Nathan (R.) 307n285 — onthe soul’s journey 170-174
Nefilim 54-55 on the soul’s vision of God 164-174
— see also Fallen angels Plato 30, 154-155, 157n18, 161, 162n39,
Nehunya b. Haganah (R.) 95, 111, 245, 170, 170n76
246n16, 253, 256, 268, 270-271, priesthood 15, 28, 66, 70-72, 82, 109,
PASH|UePS), RV OR AIT BUG, SVL 109n89, 112, 114, 122, 132, 143,
335, 342n20, 346, 347n37 317n339, 336
Neoplatonism 19, 154 priest(s) 14-15, 28, 36, 66-71, 84, 109,
Netherworld 98, 123-124, 181, 210, 221, 113-116, 128-130, 132, 137n96,
221n27, 224, 273n121, 332 139-143, 145, 145n129, 151-153,
— see also Abaddon, She’ol 169n69, 175, 179, 184n35, 216n8,
Noachide Laws 251, 269, 269n109, 278 232-233, 240, 252, 336, 340, 350
Nous 162-163, 165-166, 168, 312 Propator 312-313

ofannim 78n100, 79, 135, 135n76, Qatzpiel 275, 275n126, 277-279,

137-138, 224, 255, 259-260, 263, 316-317
268, 279-280, 287, 342n20 Qedushah hymns 254-257, 259-268,
Origen of Caesarea 183-184, 184n35, 303, 327-328
310-311
rainbow 47-48, 89, 104-105, 106n77,
Papias 103 190-191, 240, 288, 288n172, 291, 294
pardes 198, 202-204, 208, 208n162, 212, Raphael 63n42, 75—76, 119, 119n17
220-221, 231-235, 237-238, 238n106, Rav 215, 217-220
247, 286-287 Joseph (R.) 226-227
Paul 324-325, 335n5 religion, evolutionary model of 7
Peter 37 — and mysticism 6-7, 9
Phanuel 75-76, 119 Remiel
Philo of Alexandria 30, 77n91, 154-155, — see Eremiel
155nn5, 6, 323, 331, 335, 335n5, righteous 63, 68-69, 72-74, 76, 93,
352-354 101-102, 105n69, 199, 208, 223,
— on Abraham 171n80 230, 318, 321, 334, 337, 342
 General Index 397

— deceased 29, 97-111, 161 — Spirit of God 36-37, 207-208, 234

— seven classes of in heaven 96, “Star from Jacob,” 36
191-194, 72 student/teacher relationships 216,
romanticism 2] 219-220, 225-226
— German 21 Suriyah 257, 268, 272, 275, 300n246,
303n266
sacrifice 68-69, 89, 109, 114-115, 131,
139-146, 152-153, 175, 232, 256, 332, Tabernacle 44-45, 48, 50, 63n41, 82,
345, 350 136n88, 169n69
Samnas (scribe) 94 Tarfon (R.) 216-217
sapphire (blue corundum) 43n57 Temple, the celestial/heavenly 133n67,
“sapphire brick” (Jivnat ha-sappir) 137, 139, 141-144, 152-153, 327, 336,
43-44, 89, 172 350
“sapphire stone” (even-sappir) 43-44, — desecration of 28, 92—93
74n86, 88-89, 105 — the earthly Temple 28, 59, 61, 65-67,
Sariel 63n42, 119, 119n17 67n55, 69, 84, 86, 116, 130, 141-142,
Self-Glorification Hymn 17, 19-20, 30, 142n119, 243, 281, 289, 336, 340, 345
146, 149-153, 348-350, 350n47, 353 Ten Martyrs 195, 256-257, 259, 268,
sexual relations 30, 68, 71, 180-184, Di, BVH
201n122, 206, 211, 214-215, 218 Terah 87, 93
Shemuel b. Nahmani (R.) 230 Tiberius Julius Alexander 154
She’ol 98, 123, 224
— see also Netherworld unio angelica (“angelification” of hu-
Sherira Gaon 303, 303n263 mans) 153, 337, 349
Shim‘on b. Netan’el (R.) 190-192 unio liturgica (liturgical comm/union of
Shi‘ur Qomah 32-33, 244, 244n4, 262, the Merkavah mystic with the angels/
283, 283n149, 290, 290n190, 294-295, God) 29, 32, 92, 96, 153, 281, 341, 349
295n215, 301, 306-307, 307nn279, unio mystica (unification of the human
285, 308-315, 315n329, 327, 330 with the divine) 1-4, 6, 6n15, 9,
Sige 312-313 17-19, 24, 32, 153, 168n64, 281, 341,
solar calendar 15n53, 113, 113n2, 131 344, 352
Solomon 248, 292 — influence of Neoplatonic philosophy on
Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice 13, 1g
14nn48, 50, 16-17, 19, 30, 130, 133,
135, 147, 149, 150n167, 152, 348-349, vision of God 8, 27-28, 30, 32, 34, 37,
350n47 43, A7-A8, 51, 53, 55, 58017, 62, 70,
Son of Man 33, 36-37, 45, 72-73, 73n82, 72-74, 79n102, 81, 84, 91, 98-99, 101,
103-105, 106n79, 109-110, 226, 249, 111, 138-139, 145, 151-153, 168, 174,
314, 323, 323n367 193, 223, 240, 248-249, 255, 277,
— Enoch as the Son of Man 76, 84, 333, 279-280, 289, 290, 299n241, 306, 310,
336 329, 331, 336, 341-342, 345n32, 350
spirit 3, 5, 7, 36, 38, 40-41, 48, 48n71,
71, 71n70, 74-75, 76n89, 88, 90, Yehoshua (R.) 189, 193, 193n75, 195,
94-95, 97, 104, 111, 120-121, 123, 195n82, 207-209, 219, 231, 234, 241
138, 276n130, 332-334 Yehudah (R.) 177-179, 195
— divine Spirit 165 Yehudah ha-Nasi (R.) 195, 215, 219-220,
— of holiness 114 227-228, 228n54, 237
— Holy Spirit 94, 96-98, 165, 314-315 Yehudah b. Pazzi (R.) 215, 223
398 General Index

Yitzhaq Nappaha (R.) 227-228 — description of the ascent of the dead

Yohanan b. Nappaha (R.) 225, 230, 240 soul in 99-100
Yohanan b. Zakkai (R.) 186-196, 206, — hierarchy of heaven in 102
211-212, 219-220, 224-227, 231,240, |— journey of Zephaniah 100
303n263 — mistaking of an angel for God in
yored (la-) merkavah, yoredei merkavah 100-101
20, 144, 239, 243, 247, 252, 268 — Zephaniah in Hades 101
— Zephaniah’s angelic garment 101-102
Zephaniah, apocalypse of 29, 86,99-102, Zera(R.) 225
105n74, 111, 111n92, 332n1, 333-335

THEOLOGY LIBRARY
CLAREMONT, CALIF
JEWISH STUDIES | RELIGION

The Origins of Jewish Mysticism offers the first in-depth look at the
history of Jewish mysticism from the book of Ezekiel to the Merkavah
mysticism of late antiquity. The Merkavah movement is widely recognized
as the first full-fledged expression of Jewish mysticism, one that had
important ramifications for classical rabbinic Judaism and the emergence
of the Kabbalah in twelfth-century Europe. Yet until now, the origins and
development of still earlier forms of Jewish mysticism have been largely
overlooked.
In this book, Peter Schafer sheds new light on Ezekiel’s tantalizing
vision, the apocalyptic literature of Enoch, the Dead Sea Scrolls, the
writings of the Hellenistic Jewish philosopher Philo, the rabbinical
writings of the Talmudic period, and the esotericism of the Merkavah
mystics. Schafer questions whether we can accurately speak of Jewish
mysticism as a uniform, coherent phenomenon with origins in Judaism’s
mythical past. Rather than imposing preconceived notions about
“mysticism” on a great variety of writings that arose from different
cultural, religious, and historical settings, he reveals what these writings
seek to tell us about the age-old human desire to get close to and
communicate with God.

“The Origins of Jewish Mysticism is the culmination of a lifetime of

scholarship by one of the most important figures in the field. Full of fresh
and convincing interpretations, it is among the most significant works on
Jewish mysticism to appear in decades.”
—Puitip ALEXANDER, University of Manchester

“With great acumen and ingenuity, Schafer refutes the currently popular
idea that there was an uninterrupted continuum from the earliest Jewish
apocalypses and the Dead Sea Scrolls to the mystical Hekhalot literature
of late antiquity. His book is a very sobering reminder that the origins of
Jewish mysticism still remain by and large shrouded in darkness.”
—PIETER W. VAN DER Horst, professor emeritus, Utrecht University

PETER SCHAFER is the Ronald O. Perelman Professor of Jewish Studies and

professor of religion at Princeton University. His books include Jesus in
the Talmud and-Mirror of His Beauty: Feminine Images of God from the
Bible to the Early Kabbalah (both Princeton). He received a DDiabeteatns sve!
Achievement Award from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation in 2007.

Cover design by MarRCELLA ENGEL ROBERTS

Cover art: Ezekiel, Vision of Shekinah. Detail of historiated initial and surrounding text
from an English Bible, ca. 1270s. Robert Garret Collection of Medieval and Renaissance
Manuscripts No. 28. Courtesy of Manuscripts Division. Department of Rate Books and
Special Collections. Princeton University Library.
ISBN 978-0-6591-14215-9
90000

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press. princeton.edu