Académique Documents
Professionnel Documents
Culture Documents
John J. Collins
General Editor
Womens Divination
in Biblical Literature
Prophecy, Necromancy, and
Other Arts of Knowledge
esther j. hamori
new haven
and
AY B R L london
Published with assistance from the Mary Cady Tew Memorial Fund.
Copyright 2015 by Yale University. All rights reserved. This book may not
be reproduced, in whole or in part, including illustrations, in any form (beyond
that copying permitted by Sections 107 and 108 of the U.S. Copyright Law and
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publishers.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Preface, ix
List of Abbreviations, xi
Bibliography, 225
Index of Subjects, 247
Index of Ancient Texts, 260
Index of Key Ancient Terms, 270
Slim were the chances that my love of the eeriefrom tales of ghouls
and golems to my absolute certainty that there were alligators in the sew-
ers under my grandparents apartment on East Twenty-rst Street in
Manhattanwould somehow come together with my research interests in
ancient Israelite and other Near Eastern religious thought. But what did
the ancients believe was out there in the great beyond, and how did they
imagine the otherworldly entering into their everyday lives? Such were the
ponderings that led to my last several years of immersion into these greatly
varied and complex literary traditions, with their equally varied reections
on how people might contact the world beyond and how its deities, spirits,
and ghosts might communicate with them.
In the spirit of recognizing how we construct our identities through
the narratives of our ancestors, I pause to remember my own: my grandfa-
ther Rezs Saj, killed in a Jewish forced-labor battalion in January 1943;
my grandfather Ferenc Hmori, who mixed his butter and honey together
before putting it on his bread; my grandmother Joln Sznt Hmori, who
lived through everything and then ate o of cheery yellow plates, of which I
have broken only a few; my grandfather Charles D. Enselberg, who xed up
hearts and did silly dances in the living room; and my grandmother Minna
Stitch Enselberg, who played a mean game of bridge and still bought her
candy on the Lower East Side well into her nineties. They raised my par-
ents, Andras Hamori and Ruth Enselberg Hamori, whom I count myself
impossibly fortunate to have and to know. They are exceptional people.
I have beneted from the support, challenges, questions, suggestions,
and musings of many people, including Jonathan Stkl, Ilona Zsolnay, and
the members of my quarterly working group, Karina Martin Hogan, Amy
Kalmanofsky, Adriane Leveen, and Andrea Weiss. I am particularly grate-
ful to several colleagues and friends for their support for this project and for
their encouragement during various stages throughout the writing process:
ix
Susan Ackerman, Mary Boys, John Collins, Daniel Fleming, Martti Nis-
sinen, Mark Smith, Stuart Weeks, Cornel West, and Lauren Winner. Spe-
cial thanks to Carolyn Klaasen, Christopher Hooker, and Ryan Armstrong
for their help in preparing the nal manuscript, to Kate Mertes for her
wonderful indexing work, and to everyone at Yale University Press. And to
Jack, for your support in this, as in everything: thank you.
Aes. Aeschylus
Ag. Agamemnon
Ant. Antiquities of the Jews
Aristot. Aristotle
ARM Archives royales de Mari
ASV American Standard Version
BDB Brown, F., S. R. Driver, and C. A. Briggs.
A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1907.
Ber. Berakhot
BHS Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia. Edited by Karl
Elliger and Wilhelm Rudolph et al. 5th rev. ed.
Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1997.
CAD The Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of
the University of Chicago. Chicago: Oriental Insti-
tute, 1956.
ch./chs. chapter(s)
Civ. City of God
COS The Context of Scripture. Edited by William W.
Hallo and K. Lawson Younger. 3 vols. Leiden:
Brill, 19972002.
CT Cuneiform Texts from Babylonian Tablets in the
British Museum
CTA Corpus des tablettes en cuniformes alphabtiques
dcouvertes Ras Shamra-Ugarit de 1929 1939.
Edited by A. Herdner. Mission de Ras Shamra
xi
holies? Who can oer a sacrice?), though they appear in prose narrative as
well (who can approach the Ark? Certainly not the Philistines, we nd out
in 1 Sam 56, nor Uzzah, who meets an unfortunate end in 2 Sam 6:67).
Reections on divine-human communication, while also found in a range
of genres, are more concentrated in prose texts. Prophetic oracles and col-
lections are the result of belief in privileged divine-human communication,
but it is more frequently in the narration of divinatory activity that views
on access are revealed.
1. This was recognized already by Long in 1973 (The Eect of Divination upon
Israelite Literature, 48997), and by Grabbe in 1995 (Priests, Prophets, Divin-
ers, Sages, 124, 13941). See next the formative framework of Pongratz-Leisten,
Herrschaftswissen in Mesopotamien, and Cancik-Kirschbaum, Prophetismus und
Divination, 3353; and among several relevant discussions of the issue by Martti
Nissinen, see esp. What Is Prophecy? An Ancient Near Eastern Perspective,
and Prophecy and Omen Divination, 34147. Most recently, see Stkl, Prophecy
in the Ancient Near East, 711.
To some readers, the idea of prophecy may still feel dierent from
technical divinationand to be sure, each form of divination does have its
own unique characteristicsbut prophecy can no more be extricated from
the broader category than any other form of divinatory activity. Attempts
to establish a principled distinction between prophecy on the one hand and
divination on the other have not succeeded, as I discuss in detail in the next
chapter.
Divination, then, refers to a range of means of acquiring privileged
divine knowledge, but gaining such knowledge does not by itself constitute
divination. Divination should include one or more of three elements: in-
tent, interpretation (whether through technical skill or divine inspiration),
or an indication of the special identity of the diviner (whether through
training or divine call). Various aspects of dream divination will illustrate
this. Dream incubation, the inducement of a so-called signicant dream
(that is, one with a divinely sent message), especially through sleeping at
a sanctuary or other sacred place, is a clear example of intent. Gleaning
knowledge from a symbolic-message dream (that is, one that must be
deciphered)whether incubated or spontaneous, and whether ones own
dream or anothersrequires interpretation. Receiving divine knowledge
through a spontaneous message dream (that is, one with a clear verbal
statement) constitutes divination if, but only if, the recipient is depicted as
having a special identity as a diviner, like Joseph. Whether or not a modern
reader would consider a spontaneously received message dream from God
to constitute remarkable, even prophetic, communication, the biblical texts
do not do so. No divination is present when an individual receives a dream
passively and without implication of the character having special access to
divine knowledge (Abimelech, Gen 20:3; Laban, Gen 31:24). Dreams of this
last type are comparable to the patriarchs waking conversations with God,
which, in the biblical authors theologically romanticized view of the past,
are portrayed as everyday occurrences.
Any single one of these three factorsintent, interpretation, or spe-
cial identitymay indicate divinatory particularity: receipt of a prophetic
call constitutes identication as an individual whose divine-human com-
munication is privileged. There is more frequently a combination of these
Why Women?
As we know, most biblical texts are focused on male activity and writ-
ten from a male perspective. This is old news. In addition, most scholarly
attention to divinatory activity has been focused on prophecy. There are
only a few female prophets in the Bible; there are, however, many more
women who engage in other types of divination. This combination of fac-
tors has resulted in a awed picture of the world of Israelite divination. In
current scholarship, the prevailing image is still one dominated by prophets,
almost all male. An examination of the full spectrum of womens divinatory
activity should break this open. What comes into view instead is a world
full of people attempting to access divine knowledge in a multitude of ways.
The focus here on womens divination should provide valuable information
in itself, but it also eshes out the picture of the manifold divinatory roles
in biblical literature overall. My hope in writing this work is not (only) that
it should bring to light the many biblical reections of womens divinatory
activity, but that in doing so, it might color our view of the vastly complex,
rich, and diverse world of ancient Israelite divination.
I noted earlier that the question of who has privileged divine access
is the Israelites own. Questions regarding the status of groups not in the
biblical spotlight (for example, Moabites) are also found in the traditions
themselves. A good deal of biblical writing appears to have been motivated
5. Throughout this book, I use the term Israelite broadly in recognition of a tie
that binds authors and editors from a range of places and periods, those whose
eventually collected writings reect a shared sense of their origins in Israel.
Terms such as biblical authors and biblical thought are imperfect as well,
since in the rst case the concept would be meaningless to the writers them-
selves, and in the second case the phrase is theologically loaded and too often
employed in methodologically unsound ways. Among imperfect ways to refer to
the broad and complex group of thinkers and their written reections, I nd the
term Israelite to be the most logical.
6. And within that, these texts reect the perspectives and interests of male heads
of household, as opposed to servants, resident aliens, and so on.
7. Fischer, Gottesknderinnen; Butting, Prophetinnen Gefragt; and Gafney, Daugh-
ters of Miriam. All three are interested in the presence or inuence of female
prophets beyond those so titled in the texts, but in no case is this a matter of
exploring the fuller picture of divination (see further discussion in ch. 2 of the
present book).
8. The works of Cryer and Jeers both reect the newer understanding of prophecy
as a type of divination, but both focus on male activity (not explicitly), on which
more follows in the text. Cryer, Divination in Ancient Israel; Jeers, Magic and
Divination.
9. Cryer, Divination in Ancient Israel, 213.
16. The goddess Gula is also called a diviner, as discussed in a later chapter.
17. Alster, Dumuzis Dream, 55, li. 1925.
18. Ibid., 59, 61, 81, li. 42, 4849, 6769, 24048. The nal couplet also appears in
description of the old woman who briey hides Dumuzi (li. 20515), but in her
case this is all we see; in Getinannas case, it caps the depiction of her grief.
19. Cryer, Divination in Ancient Israel, 213.
of course, come from long before the rst millennium, and in both texts,
the womans dream interpretation is treated as authoritative. Even despite
having noted that Ninsuns interpretation of her sons dreams is juxtaposed
with Gilgameshs and Enkidus attempts to interpret one anothers dreams,
when they almost invariably get it wrong, with catastrophic consequences,
Cryer assumes an overall picture according to which womens divination, in
the one form he observes, lacked authority.
The setting aside of womens divination as exceptional, popular, and
lacking authority seems tenuous and based on prior suppositions. In each
of the three examples mentioned, the woman who performs divination is
extolled as an expert. As we see in these literary works, womens dream in-
terpretation had signicant authority for the characters; this reveals some-
thing of the authors world of ideas. There were surely gendered dierences
in society that can be observed, but they must not be assumed. Most ob-
viously, professional academic divination was predominantly male, and in
the parts of society where that had primary authority, womens divination
would presumably have less. We have seen, however, that even the great
literary traditions (that is, of the male scribal elite) reect ideas about sig-
nicant, authoritative, and eective womens divination.
These myths show that womens divination looms large in the mytho-
logical imagination of the Mesopotamians. But the biblical stories are
about human agents, and this can lead to complex questions regarding the
historical accuracy of their portrayals of womens divination during vari-
ous periods. The texts were composed by many hands at dierent times.
Scholars have worked to tease apart the strands, to ascribe motifs in a story
to dierent historical periods, and to interpret texts according to the dates
they assign them. Sometimes this is extremely useful; sometimes it be-
comes circular, and creates an obstacle to understanding what the text may
actually be presenting in its picture of divinatory activity. An additional
problematic aspect of interpreting this literature through the lens of pro-
posed authorial contexts is that it tends to rely on the assumption that we
20. Ibid., 157. Women are also virtually absent in Jeers, Magic and Divination.
21. For example, while the Huldah tradition contains some clear indications that
certain events had not yet transpired, the assignment of the Miriam tradition
to the Persian period (based, in my view, on less solid evidence) can circularly
shape or conrm interpretation of what the texts show of her divinatory role.
know what an author set out to do, and what precise knowledge the author
had about the relevant form of divination.
The En-dor story may serve as an example of how the layers of literary
possibilities can render historical conclusions all but impossible. The writer
of the story clearly has a goal that is not simply reporting a set of facts.
The author has something to say about Saul and is turning to the authority
of Samuel for this purpose. But what of the presentation of the divining
woman? On the most basic level, she is simply necessary for the plot. In
order to use the authority of a character who has already died, the character
must be somehow brought back. Does the story of the medium of En-dor
demonstrate that necromancy was commonly practiced in Israel, or might
it just be the authors best means of turning to the authority of Samuel after
he has died? Perhaps necromancy was indeed common but looked nothing
like this (presumably the goal could not have been the visible raising of the
dead, or it would not generally have been seen as successful), and here it is
just a necessary plot device. Or might the author have used a convention of
a certain kind of woman performing a common form of divination, because
he knew it from his day? Or, as suggested earlier regarding the birth omen,
maybe this is how the author imagined things happening in earlier times.
Then again, it could be a throwback, but reasonably accurate. Or was some
form of necromancy common in the authors day, but not the authors social
location? Is it possible that the author drew a somewhat stereotypical and
inaccurate picture of what people did out in the villages, when he himself
had rsthand knowledge only of the religious circles of the elite?
My aim here is to examine the texts that depict womens divination
without depending on specic proposals regarding the authors contexts. I
will try to show that the divinatory activity of women is an important and
enormously varied motif in the Bible; I will try to bring out, without his-
torical or theological preconception, how the texts view the diviners (whom
they often place in tense, dramatic situations), and I will suggest that a
synoptic view of the female diviners allows some interesting patterns to
come to light. I do not take an overall xed position on the epistemological
status of these stories. At a minimum, they make clear that the image of
the female diviner had a notable place in the Israelite cultural imagination.
In my view, a realistic maximalist position would be that actual womens
divination bore some resemblances to its portrayal in literary texts, not par-
ticularly more or less so than with other types of religious activity, and that
22. I do not, however, address every text that has been proposed as an example of
womens intermediary activity. In particular, I do not think that there is adequate
evidence to support the theory that the women who serve at the tent of meeting
are acting as cult prophets. For that hypothesis, see Fischer, Gottesknderinnen,
96108.
23. On the common overlap between various roles, in contrast to ideal types, see
Grabbe, Shaman, Preacher, or Spirit Medium? The Israelite Prophet in the
Light of Anthropological Models, esp. 12831.
19
not yet ltered into other specialized areas. The work of scholars who have
moved beyond the model of magic versus religion, or the work of spe-
cialists in the study of divination, may at times continue to reect outdated
approaches to gender; those with expertise in gender studies may continue
to assume a dichotomous relationship between magic and religion, of-
cial and popular religion; and so on. Across a range of topics relevant
to this study, a good deal of scholarship continues to assume an older, out-
dated model in one or more of these areas. Thus, while it is not new to break
down any particular one of the following pairs, the present work depends
on the integration of more recent approaches in each area. The study of the
literary portrayal of womens divination must be set against the background
of these newer (and changing) ideas.
1. This is in addition to the more deeply awed work lacking contemporary meth-
odology within its own area, such as work on prophets that assumes an objective
opposition between true and false prophecy, or work on women that essential-
izes gender roles.
2. Readers interested in a detailed discussion of the history of these ideas should
see Styers, Making Magic; Cunningham, Religion and Magic; and for a topical
approach, including gender and witchcraft, Bowie, The Anthropology of Religion.
See also the helpful surveys of Stratton, Naming the Witch, ixxi and 118; and
The last several decades have seen a radical shift in this area. Cur-
rent scholarship recognizes the problematic nature of the dichotomy as
based on cultural assumptions according to which ones own beliefs and
practices are considered religious, while those belonging to people(s)
and groups dierent from ones own are then dened as magical. These
skewed views of magic as other, dened negatively in opposition to re-
ligion, characterized by its deviation from the norm of religion (and
thus being deviant), undergird a vast amount of older work in biblical
scholarship and religious studies, and the same assumptions or their in-
uence can still be seen in a surprising amount of current work in biblical
studies. However, modern scholars of religion would at the very least seri-
ously challenge the older characterizations and point out the overlapping
nature of magic and religion, and many would go further, arguing that
religion and magic cannot helpfully be dened as two separable catego-
ries at all. Jonathan Z. Smith has bitingly articulated the problem and his
response to it:
In their turn, these aws [in dening magic] have been brought about by
the fact that in academic discourse magic has almost always been treated
as a contrast term, a shadow reality known only by looking at the reection
of its opposite (religion, science) in a distorting fun-house mirror. Or, to
put this another way, within the academy, magic has been made to play the
role of an evaluative rather than an interpretive term, and, as such, usually
bears a negative value . . . For these (and other) reasons, I see little merit in
continuing the use of the substantive term magic in second-order, theo-
retical, academic discourse.
5. See the discussion of the unconvinced J. Z. Smith, ibid., 1720; also Stratton,
Naming the Witch, 138; Johnston, Describing the Undenable, 5054; John-
ston, Ancient Greek Divination, 14648; and Versnel, Some Reections on the
Relationship Magic-Religion, 17797.
6. See for example Stratton, Naming the Witch, who understands magic as a form of
social discourse ( la Foucault), with an interest in the power relations involved
in what was dened as magic in various contexts, and by whom; and the key
discussions she cites of Phillips, The Sociology of Religious Knowledge in the
Roman Empire, 2677773, and Garrett, The Demise of the Devil. As J. Z. Smith
notes, though, this shift begs the question of whether anyone has actually prac-
ticed magic, a point that scholars who agree on the level of theory still debate
regarding contexts from Africa to Salem (Trading Places, 20).
7. See Stratton, Naming the Witch, 89, for further discussion.
8. This is not to suggest that the concept of magic is so clear elsewhere in the
Near East; note particularly van Binsbergen and Wiggermann, Magic in His-
tory: A Theoretical Perspective, and Its Application to Ancient Mesopotamia,
334. See also Ritner, The Religious, Social, and Legal Parameters of Traditional
Israelite religion, there is at times more hesitation either to label some prac-
tices magical, or to regard magical acts as legitimate parts of religious
practice. Examples abound, however, of magical practice in Israelite reli-
gion and among major Israelite religious gures.
One might consider the many acts of Elisha, such as when he tosses a
stick into the water to make an iron axhead oat (2 Kgs 6:57), or when he
throws salt into water to make bad water good, an act that is accompanied
by an incantation (2 Kgs 2:1922). Moses, of course, has also been called
a magician. He throws wood into the water at Marah, turning the bitter
water sweet (Exod 15:2225), and strikes a rock with his sta, resulting in a
ow of water from the stone. He makes a bronze serpent, just the sight of
which is said to heal the people who have been bitten by snakes (Num 21:9).
He raises his sta on a hilltop, and keeps it raised all throughout a battle,
in order to bring about victory over the Amalekites. There is a nice detail in
the storytelling that emphasizes the nature of the magical act: Mosess arms
grow tired, but since each time he lowers the sta the Amalekites suddenly
prevail in battle again, Aaron and Hur set up a stone for the weary Moses
to sit on while they hold up his hands, thus bringing about Israelite victory
(Exod 17:913). Joshua directly addresses the sun, telling it to stand still, and
it does ( Josh 10:1214). The list could go on.
The question of the Bibles own view of magic is not a simple one.
While some texts, like many of those just mentioned, do not distinguish
between what have been labeled religious and magical activities, other
texts certainly do. In a few cases, dierent versions of one story subtly in-
dicate an authors concern with what might be seen as magic, as in the two
texts telling of Moses bringing forth water from the rock. In Exodus 17:16,
Moses strikes the rock at Yahwehs command. Though the text presents the
initiative as divine (commonly seen as a reason to label activity religious),
the magical nature of the actthe rod is used virtually as a wandcan
hardly be countered. In Numbers 20:113, however, Yahweh commands
Moses only to tell the rock to produce water (v. 8) and condemns him after-
ward for using the rod. While these two means of providing owing water
from a rock, the one verbal and the other physical, are equally magical
(or religious) from the angle of modern theory, the presence of the two
distinct versions of the story demonstrates a dierence in the traditions
attitudes toward the physical action involved.
In other cases, a narrator will more explicitly articulate a perceived
dierence between two types of actionsthe dierence being that those
of the Other are magic. In the example cited in the previous chapter of
Aaron and the Egyptian magicians performing essentially identical feats
(the one rod-turned-serpents slightly higher position on the food chain
does not a phenomenological distinction make), Aarons acts are presented
as divinely inspired, and the Egyptians acts are emphatically described as
sorcery: So Moses and Aaron came to Pharaoh, and did just what Yahweh
had commanded. Aaron threw his rod before Pharaoh and his servants, and
it became a serpent. Then Pharaoh also called for the wise men ()
and the sorcerers (), and they too, the magicians of Egypt
() , did the same with their secret arts (( )Exod 7:10
11). This view, whether held by the biblical writers or by the scholars who
accept the biblical perspectives as factual, typies the rule of thumb that,
for any given group, religion is what We do; magic is what They do. As put
by Robert Grant in a now-classic description: your magic is my miracle,
and vice versa.
This captures an interesting moment in the process of communal iden-
tity formation. Religion and magic are both external descriptions, and
the concept of a category of religion is in many ways a modern one. The
11. This theme is not original to the Bible. There is a similar magical dance-o,
for instance, in the Sumerian Enmerkar and Ensuhgirana, in which the wise
woman Sagburu defeats Ensuhgirana in a sorcery contest.
12. Grant, Gnosticism and Early Christianity, 93.
13. See again J. Z. Smith, Religion, Religions, Religious.
17. In the Mari letters, the evaluation of a dream as signicant refers to its legiti-
macy as a divined dream; I import this concept here because biblical authors
express similar judgments through narrative.
18. The implication in the former narrative, in which Josephs brothers are angered
by the young whippersnappers dreams, is not that they too have any particu-
lar interpretive ability, but that the dreams Joseph has (and feels compelled to
share) have a painfully obvious meaning. The distinction between message
and symbol dreams is a modern scholarly one, and a gray area of intersection
between them exists.
Daniel too combines these roles: he makes his name as a diviner by inter-
preting Nebuchadnezzars dream, but only after its contents are revealed
to him through his own dream (Dan 2). Daniel, the chief magician
( , Dan 4:6), also has special interpretive abilities extending be-
yond dreams, as evidenced by his understanding of the mysterious writing
on the wall (which he is beckoned to read because of his reputation for
insight and interpretation, as emphasized repeatedly in 5:1116). Solomon
engages in dream incubation: he makes a monumental sacrice to Yahweh
at the shrine at Gibeon, immediately after which at Gibeon Yahweh ap-
peared to Solomon in a dream (1 Kgs 3:415).
Other forms of divination are presented as equally valid, including
methods utilizing tools (which would likely be considered magical objects
in the hands of a non-Israelite). When Joseph has his silver goblet planted
in Benjamins bag, he instructs his accomplice upon search and seizure to
emphasize the special value of the object, telling him to exclaim, Isnt this
the one my master drinks from, and with which he practices divination?
(Gen 44:5). David twice uses the ephod as an instrument of divination, both
times provided for him by the priest Abiathar (1 Sam 23:9; 1 Sam 30:7). The
Ark serves either as an instrument of divination or, more likely, as a mobile
sacred place allowing access to divine knowledge, thus working on the same
principle as dream incubation: the Israelites inquire of Yahweh before the
Ark ( Judg 20:27). We read also of the casting of lots to identify (accurately)
a guilty party ( Josh 7:1020; 1 Sam 14:3743); the priestly use of the urim
(Num 27:21); and so on.
These various types of divination are interrelated, and many gures
who engage in one engage in others as well, as seen in the examples of
Joseph and Daniel. There is not one person who divines by dreams and
a dierent person who uses instruments of divinationor another who
prophesies. Some individuals are associated with one particular method of
divination, to be surethe prophet (), the dreamer or dream inter-
preter ( , as in Gen 37:19)but just as we would not articially
19. Two texts ring of accidental incubation: Jacobs dream at Bethel is attributed to
the sacred locationit is the house of God and the gate of heaventhough
Jacob has said he did not know it (Gen 28:1617). Samuels visual and auditory
visions of God occur as he is lying down in the temple of Yahweh, where the
Ark of God was (1 Sam 3:3), but neither he nor Eli initially understands what
is happening.
separate the one who interprets dreams from the one who uses a goblet or
the ephod as a divinatory tool, it would be equally contrived to remove the
one who prophesies from the overall category of divination. We see indi-
viduals with prophetic titles engage in forms of divination other than pro-
phetic utterance (Elisha uses music to induce spirit possession, 2 Kgs 3:15;
Ezekiel has elaborate visions and out-of-body experiences), and we see
untitled people prophesy (such as Saul, who also attempts multiple other
forms of divination, 1 Sam 28:6). This cannot be explained solely in terms of
changing constructs and titles over time (and perhaps location). All of these
overlapping roles and activities demonstrate the impossibility of extracting
any one method and classifying it as qualitatively dierent from the others
and separate from the general category of divinationincluding prophecy.
Furthermore, even those individuals who are known as prophets are
often said to inquire of or consult ( )Yahweh. This is recognizable
divination terminology. We read of inquiring of the dead (Deut 18:1011;
Isa 8:19b), mediums and spiritists (1 Sam 28:7; Isa 8:19a; Isa 19:3b), idols
(Isa 19:3a), the Ark (1 Chr 13:3), and other gods (2 Kgs 1:2; Jer 8:2; 2 Chr 17:3;
2 Chr 25:20). In several texts, we see this terminology used in reference to
inquiring of Yahweh and other entities in parallel: mediums, spiritists, God
and the dead (Isa 8:19), a ghost and Yahweh (1 Chr 10:1314), and
God (2 Chr 17:34). Even when an authors polemics express the view that
these other objects of divination are improper, the statements themselves
reect the concept of the methods as parallel. Thus, when a prophet in-
quires of Yahweh, or people inquire of Yahweh through prophets, it is
not an abstract theological notion of seeking God, but a use of the same
divination terminology that is used in reference to other objects (1 Sam 9:9;
1 Kgs 22:58; 2 Kgs 3:11, 8:8, 22:13 and 18; Jer 21:2, 37:7; Ezek 14:3 and 7; 20:3
and 31; 21:1).
This language alone is enough to refute another common misunder-
standing. In the older (and persisting) framework, many assumed that
prophecy and divination reected a dierence in agency, as in the old
notions of religion as a matter of divine initiative and magic as human:
God gives true prophecy and dreams, while humans fruitlessly examine
kidneys, livers, and stars. In the future, the dichotomy between prophecy
and divination will likely fade from academic discussion; however, newer
20. The range of accompanying prepositions is enormous, and the choice is not
specic to the object.
21. Thus, while I concur with most of Stkls new discussion of prophecy as a type
of divination, I disagree somewhat with the extent of his distinction between
technical and intuitive divination, such that, for example, a dream interpreter
falls under the heading of technical diviner, while a dreamer falls under the
heading of intuitive (Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 711).
23. Cryer, Divination in Ancient Israel, 262. He notes the cognate for , and the
attestation of the practice of inquiring of the dead, both in Mesopotamia, and
the possibility that may have a cognate if related to , but no attestations
otherwise of cognates in Israels surroundings older than the relevant biblical
texts (25662).
contrasts discussed earlier, the faulty framework of this model has been
recognized in many areas of biblical study, but continues to surface in state-
ments concerning divination.
There was not a single form of ocial religion surrounded by separate
and subversive forms of popular religion. Religious belief and practice var-
ied according to contextwhether urban or rural, royal complex or farm-
ing family, temple or household, Jerusalem temple or other temples and
sanctuaries (in addition to region and date). There are also inescapable
overlaps between these categories, and forms of religious activity presented
as illicit in some traditions appear in other texts without comment. The
story of Michal, for instance, prominently displays teraphim in the royal
palace, a fact toward which the authors seem neutral. Is this then ocial
and royal religion, or popular and household? What about Passover,
which is an ocial household ritual? Then there is Saul and Samuels par-
ticipation in the cultic activity at a local shrine (1 Sam 910); Davids divi-
nation by ephod, brought to him by the priest Abiathar (1 Sam 23:912); or
Elisha directing King Joash in a Yahwistic magical ritual that included the
king shooting an arrow, the prophet speaking an incantation, and the king
striking the ground with arrows a certain number of times to bring about
corresponding victory over Syria (2 Kgs 13:1719).
Some will extend the question of ocial and popular religion to
that of Israelite and foreign inuence. This is usually shorthand for Is-
raelite and Canaanite, with the diculty being that, although Israelite
religion obviously took on its own characteristics, it is not clear exactly at
what point and in what ways it becomes appropriate to distinguish between
Israelite and the broader environment, particularly the Canaanite. The
hard distinction between the two at an early date has been corrected in
many areas of the eld. Though we continue to see divination referred to
24. As Stavrakopoulou and Barton point out, the plurality of religious views and
practices in ancient Israel is so emphasized in current scholarship that it is re-
ected even in the titles of many recent works on the subject (Introduction:
Religious Diversity in Ancient Israel and Judah, 1 n.1, noting for example Ze-
vit, The Religions of Ancient Israel; Hess, Israelite Religions; and Edelman, ed., The
Triumph of Elohim: From Yahwisms to Judaisms.
25. See esp. Lemche, The Canaanites and Their Land; M. Smith, The Origins of Bibli-
cal Monotheism; M. Smith, The Early History of God; and Niehr, Israelite and
Canaanite Religion, 2336.
Mongol shamans, and the case of Alice Lakwena of Uganda are particularly
illustrative.
As with the previous false binaries, this shift in scholarly understand-
ing has been important in its most immediate area of the eld but has been
slow to trickle out. The connection of divination to false prophecy is not
academically defensible, but it is still commonly assumed.
27. Grabbe, Shaman, Preacher, or Spirit Medium? The Israelite Prophet in the
Light of Anthropological Models, 11732. See also the brief earlier discussion
in Wilson, Prophecy and Society in Ancient Israel, 24751.
28. Meyers, In the Household and Beyond: The Social World of Israelite Women,
1941. Ebelings work on the daily life of village women in the central highlands
in Iron I Israel also illustrates the intersection of spheres (Womens Lives in Bibli-
cal Times).
29. See, classically, J. Butler, Gender Trouble, the inuence of whose understanding
of gender as performative cannot be overestimated.
30. There are exceptions to this approach; see Niditch, Samson as Culture Hero,
Trickster, and Bandit, 61012. However, the most common male character fre-
quently read as a trickster is Jacob, for reasons that may have more to do with
older Christian attitudes toward Jews and Judaism ( Jacob is Israel, after all)
than with gender issues.
often lack power in relation to those with whom they are in conict. David,
for instance, is not frequently characterized as a trickster, though he uses
subversive strategies to remain safe from the more powerful Saul. Some
feminist biblical scholarship also reects an inclination to categorize and
label female characters in other ways that are not frequently seen for male
characters.
For a long time, it was not uncommon to hear such approaches re-
ferred to as the celebration of women and female characters. This ap-
proach is sometimes overt, but at times less so, taking the form of blanket
positive statements about women in the Bible, and in doing so falling
into the trap of hypercorrection and essentializing. Frymer-Kensky, for
instance, claims that until the inuence of Hellenism, there is no real
woman question in the Bible, and oers as an example, There are no
evil mother-gures in the Bible. On the contrary, mothers are always sup-
portive of their children and loyal to them. While this may describe
the majority of presentations, the story of the two mothers and the boiled
son in 2 Kings 6:2829 is enough to belie the claim. For that matter, Re-
bekah might have been a supportive mother to Jacob, but Esaus perspec-
tive would have been a bit dierent. The problems of older interpretive
trends cannot be solved by trying to cast all women in a positive light.
Depictions of female characters in the Bible run the gamut, as depictions
of male characters do.
Each of these types of approaches has appeared in work on the female
prophets. There is no shortage of traditional work on prophecy and the
prophets that fails to mention most or all of the titled female prophets.
Then, as the female prophets have come into focus in recent study, some
feminist approaches have focused on redeeming them, either from invis-
ibility or from a negative assessment they attribute to the ancient authors.
In some cases, modern theological (and practical) problems associated
31. Note the title of Belliss Helpmates, Harlots, and Heroes: Womens Stories in the
Hebrew Bible; and in Frymer-Kensky, Reading the Women of the Bible, the sec-
tion headings Victors, Victims, Virgins, and Voice.
32. Frymer-Kensky, In the Wake of the Goddesses, 121.
33. Fuchs, for instance, sees the female prophets as silenced, limited, and sup-
pressed, and argues that their presentation reects reluctance on the part of the
narrator to admit or reveal the extent of womens prophetic activity (Prophecy
and the Construction of Women: Inscription and Erasure, 57).
34. Gafney begins her book by noting the modern restriction of womens religious
authority on what some traditions see as biblical grounds. In addition to her
explicit acknowledgment of this concern, it is implicit in her framing of her
book with blessings upon the reader (Daughters of Miriam, 1, 21, 165).
35. Bronner, From Eve to Esther: Rabbinic Reconstructions of Biblical Women, 16384;
and Elior, Changing Perspectives: Female Prophets in the Bible and Rabbinic
Perspective, 1521. Gafney also gathers some of these sources, in addition to
early Christian traditions surrounding the female prophets.
36. Butting, Prophetinnen Gefragt, 9. Butting devotes more of her attention, how-
ever, to constructing a model according to which the titled female prophets
reect the relationship, as she sees it, between Torah and prophets.
37. Fischer, Gottesknderinnen, 1819, 96108, 13157. Overall, Fischer uses the term
prophecy broadly, seeing the legislation in Deut 18 as demonstrating that
various other practices were understood to stand within the general range of
prophecy but were seen as objectionable (4449). Her use of the term proph-
ecy is thus close to the way most now would use the term divination. How-
ever, I nd this a bit imprecise, since Hebrew terminology relating to prophecy
and other forms of divination is specic.
Fischers rst two additions, and then includes several more women and
groups of women for whom, in her terms, she will construct a prophetic
identity. This is tting for Gafneys stated goal; it does mean, however,
that she is invested specically in looking for women she can identify as
prophets, and establishing that they are portrayed positively.
One primary way in which my approach diers from these contribu-
tionsin addition to the central issue of examining all types of divination
togetheris that I see no systematic presentation of female diviners and
no consistent authorial concern behind the texts. This is the case among
the titled prophets, where I see a range of depictions and attitudes toward
the characters and their activities, as well as among the women engaging in
other forms of divination.
Some scholars have recognized that the female prophets are not de-
picted particularly dierently from the male, and have their positive and
negative portrayals. Ackerman, for example, has found nothing inherently
dierent in the depictions of the female prophets, though she considers
them anomalous. Grabbe noted already in his work on the major religious
specialists of ancient Israel that in both behavior and message, the female
prophets are no dierent from the male, and that there is no bias shown
in the texts. Stkl has reached the same conclusion in regard to female
38. Gafney, Daughters of Miriam, 1718, 165. Gafneys use of the term prophet is far
broader than Fischers, and not based on the practices associated with divination
in Deut 18. She thus includes not only the temple personnel of 1 Chr 25:16,
for example, but also female mourners, and the mother of Lemuel in Prov 31:1.
Cf. the list of the range of activities she includes as prophetic; Daughters of
Miriam, 15152.
39. Fischer sees the women portrayed both positively and negatively, but because
she sees each text as reecting the authors judgments regarding true and
false prophecy in light of the legislation of Deut 18, her work is necessarily
dened around each womans relationship to this standard of true prophecy;
hence, she argues that Huldah is presented positively as a true prophet, and
the woman of En-dor is presented negatively as a false prophet.
40. Ackerman, Why Is Miriam Also among the Prophets? 4780. Others have
made related, if more general, statements, such as A. Brenners conclusion
that although the prophetic activity of women appears in most respects to be
like that of men, the female prophets were much less signicant (The Israelite
Woman, 5758; 66).
41. Grabbe, Priests, Prophets, Diviners, Sages, 115.
prophets elsewhere in the Near East. I concur with these analyses; what
I nd beyond this is a surprising spectrum of viewpoints within biblical
literature in regard to a range of womens divinatory activities.
It is with these provisos in mind that I approach my subject. As I exam-
ine the stories in which female diviners play a role as primary or secondary
characters, I hope to bring into relief, by studying them individually, the
nuanced attitudes toward such gures and to show, by studying them side
by side, where patterns emerge and where they do not.
1. The traditions emphasize that Rebekah is rooted in this area, whether called
Aram-naharaim or Paddan-aram. I nd it appropriate to identify her as Re-
bekah the Aramean, to signify that she is portrayed this way as much as Laban
the Aramean. The term Syria will be employed here as a useful anachronism.
43
2. It is a touching note that when Rebekah does nally leave her mothers house,
Isaac takes her back to his mothers tent ( ;) and thus he was
comforted after the death of his mother (Gen 24:67).
3. Isaacs blessing may not be the only one at stake here. Perhaps Rebekahs inter-
est is equally in seeing her own family blessing, the one she received from her
mother and brother upon leaving her ( Gen 24:60), passed on to her pre-
ferred son.
4. When Isaac sends Jacob at the beginning of the next chapter (explicitly to go to
Rebekahs family, Gen 28:12), this is at the behest of Rebekah, who has already
ordered Jacob to ee and then speaks to her husband about it (27:43, 46).
types of activity. Within the literary form of the story, the two types of
divine-human communication are separated by just a few words, and there
is good reason to consider their contrasting features.
Isaac makes supplication: ( Gen 25:21). The verb
has a bit of a cultic feel to it, with its origins in making supplication with
oerings. While the verb in biblical Hebrew no longer carries this precise
meaning, related nouns still hint at it. We see the of incenseeither
the smell or the smoke, but either way, the cloud that rises from the ritual
burningin Ezekiel 8:11, and a similar noun referring to the supplicant(s)
bringing an oering in Zephaniah 3:10. The verb does not imply sacrice, but
does connote a type of supplication not evident from the generic English
verb to pray. Isaac did not pray (, as used for example of Abraham
in Gen 20:17); he made supplication, and with a whi of the cultic about it.
After this, Rebekah engages in a type of divine-human communication
that diers in both its form and its goal: she went to inquire of Yahweh
(- , Gen 25:22). The form of Isaacs communication is en-
treaty: he asks for an event to occur, and it occurs. The form of Rebekahs
communication is inquiry: she requests knowledge from God, and she re-
ceives it. He seeks an outcome; she seeks knowledge. We see this clearly in
the description of each act, but it is also evident from the vocabulary itself,
from the juxtaposition of and .
but the fact of the inquiry is), the verb has been understood as referring
to divination in this text perhaps more than in some others, though still not
in the majority of readings. Most scholars who recognize this as divination
language, however, still assume that Rebekah went to inquire of Yahweh
means that Rebekah went to some third party so that he could inquire of
Yahweh for her.
The assumption that Rebekah goes to someone else who can communi-
cate with God on her behalf depends circularly on whether the interpreter
begins with the notion that Rebekah could conceivably inquire directly or
not. The Genesis narratives envision a world in which the ancestors (male
and female) had ongoing direct access to God. Part of this picture of the
days of yorethis glowy-edged impression of how the ancients livedwas
an idealized image of their communication with God, back when it was
unnecessary to use intermediaries.
divine access throughout Genesis; she notes that virtually every chapter be-
tween Genesis 2 and 35 involves some sort of direct communication between
YHWH and a particular human being, whether through a divine speech or
dialogue, vision, dream, or theophany (p. 5).
11. Ibid., 78. As E. Fleming observes, where Abiathar the priest appears in
1 Sam 30:7, it is only to bring David the ephod; David then inquires of God
directly in v. 8.
12. ARM 26 227 and 229 report dreams. ARM 26 236 seems to refer to a vision,
rather than a dream: in her report regarding what the untitled woman Kakka-lidi
has seen, ibtu states only that she saw (mur) certain things, with no reference
to a dream (uttum). It is possible, however, that ibtu simply does not feel the
One untitled woman, Zunana, reports her own dream, and species that
Dagan appeared to her in a dream even though nobody had performed
an incubation ritual on me (ARM 26 232). Even if we assume that her
intent in stating that no one performed an incubation ritual on her is to
emphasize the signicance of the dream by highlighting its spontaneity,
this also has the eect of emphasizing for us her independent divination,
especially in combination with what follows. After reporting the content of
her dream, Zunana tells Zimri-lim how to comply with Dagans message
to him; her dreaming, reporting, and interpreting all demonstrate aspects
of her independent divination. With the references to untitled womens in-
dependent divination among both literary gures and historical ones, with
no indication in the Genesis text that Rebekah visits an intermediary, and
with the positive evidence that God speaks directly to her in the text as to
other ancestors throughout Genesis, we should recognize this as Rebekahs
own action and not try to supply a missing intermediary.
In the juxtaposition of Isaacs entreaty and Rebekahs inquiry, the an-
cient author makes no judgment regarding relative value: there is no as-
sessment of the greater worth of either act, no greater esteem for either
character. The acts are dierent because the needs are dierent. The story
is structured around these two consecutive responses to two consecutive
problems. The rst problem (which Isaac and Rebekah share, though it is
presented from Isaacs perspective) is a concrete lack; Isaac asks God for
something (ospring), and God responds by giving it. This creates a new
problem, Rebekahs physical struggle in pregnancy, which sparks her exis-
tential struggle; Rebekah asks God for something (knowledge), and God
responds by giving it. These two types of divine-human communication,
serving dierent functions, are depicted in the same matter-of-fact way as
other interactions between God and the ancestors. For our purposes here,
it is particularly noteworthy that the female characters divination is por-
trayed as simply and bluntly as the male characters supplication. It is in
one sense a nonissue: the author gives no indication that the roles in the
entreaty/inquiry pairing have anything to do with gender (except insofar
need to clarify the precise form of divination for our sake. On the complexity of
the distinction between dreams and visions, see Zgoll, Traum und Welterleben im
antiken Mesopotamien, 164; and Stkl, Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, 7981.
13. Translation of Martti Nissinen (Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near
East, 61).
14. The other woman who is explicitly brought in from the old country is Rachel.
Perhaps it is not a coincidence that Rachel absconds with a divinatory object
from home: Is the association with divination an image the authors had of these
ancient women from the old country?
one another within her, Rebekah is portrayed as being desolate to the point
of having lost the will to live. She is not merely worried about the mean-
ing of the twins strife, as might be assumed from Yahwehs response to
her divinatory inquiry. Whether or not she knows yet that she is carrying
twins (Yahwehs response could be taken to introduce this information or
just to give a glimpse into their future lines), she feels mortal danger and
despairs of the worth of her own life. This reaction would be neurotically
out of proportion for a concern over the meaning of the boys ghting;
on grounds logical and philological, it is evident that Rebekah thinks at
the very least that her pregnancy may be ending. While scholarly com-
mentary on Jeremiahs longing to die aboundsinterpreters regularly note
the gravity of the prophets emotional trauma in his many laments, and
consider the same in Job and even Jonahthere is not to my knowledge
any equivalent work on Rebekah despairing of life itself. Her tormented
question, If it is like this, why am I even alive? ( -),
should be read in the same light as Jeremiahs, Why was I even born?
( , Jer 20:18).
This is not the question she asks Yahweh; it is also not the question
Yahweh answers. She utters the anguished rhetorical question (, not
). How poignant this one line isa remark so brief, and apparently
asked of no one in particular. It is only after this that Rebekah goes to in-
quire. What she does then ask Yahweh we do not get to see, though if we
err on the side of assuming his answer will relate in some way to her ques-
tion (not an area of perfect consistency for him, but of some reliability), we
can surmise that it had more to do with the fate of the infants than with the
value of her own life. Each part of this one verse, then, reveals a fullness of
experience not always recognized in the character:
.- . . . - . . .
15. As in Pseudo-Jonathan, the twins pressed in her womb as men doing battle.
16. Even if one reads Rebekah as given to hyperbole (Gen 27:46)not unlike Jer-
emiahthere is still explicitly cause here for her despair.
17. The verb does at times introduce a question posed to another character, but
the combination of , the absence of another character (human or divine),
and the unanswerable nature of the question indicates that it is rhetorical, as in
Gen 21:7, : She said, Who would have
said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children?
18. In addition, the phrasing of her despairing rhetorical question is not what one
would expect of someone posing an oracular inquiry.
19. Leichty, The Omen Series umma Izbu, 720. Translations of umma izbu here
are Leichtys. The passing suggestion that the birth of Rebekahs twins consti-
tutes an omen has been made before: Westermann notes simply that there was
an omen in the birth of twin boys (Genesis 1236, 413). Erin Fleming also men-
tions the possibility that Rebekah wants to know whether her pregnancy with
twins is a good or bad omen, citing an example of a negative omen regarding
twin boys and a positive omen regarding twin girls (She Went to Inquire of the
Lord, 9 n.21, citing in turn Leichty, The Omen Series umma Izbu, I 83 and I 100,
pp. 39, 42). Cryer includes this story among several he sees as demonstrating
that the tradition of physiognomic and diagnostic omens was known in Israel,
and in this case particularly misbirth-omens: The phenomenology should be
clear in this instance: Rebekah has felt or heard some inexplicable sign in her
innards, and accordingly visits the appropriate specialist to secure its interpreta-
tion (Divination in Ancient Israel, 320).
disability (If a woman gives birth to a deaf childthat house will prosper
outside [of its city], I 63). While Leichty may overstate the case with the
claim that the overwhelming majority of omens in the series umma izbu
actually do occur in nature, his primary arguments for the historical use
of the series are the higher rate of birth anomalies in the ancient world,
and the preponderance of similar types of birth divination among the Hit-
tites, Etruscans, and Romans. Remembering especially that such birth
anomalies include miscarriages, the range of fetal appearances must have
been broader than we might care to imagine (perhaps, for example, II 19).
Several factors thus suggest the omens use to some degree in actual birth
divination (if one disregards the zoological diversity). More to the point,
the omens demonstrate an interest in birth appearances as divine signs
meriting interpretation, just as astrological omenswhich include realistic
and unrealistic occurrencesdemonstrate such a view of celestial events.
Among the more realistic omens in umma izbu are those regarding
multiple births (I 83131). Most of these concern twins. The rst of these
omens, for instance, reads: If a woman gives birth to two boysthere will
be hard times in the land; the land will experience unhappiness; there will
be bad times for the house of their father (I 83). Elsewhere, four omens in
a row concern newborns with unusual hair: one covered with wool, one
already bearded, one already covered with goat hair, and the last, If a
woman gives birth, and at birth (the child) already has (a head of ) hair
hard times will seize the land (IV 3134). The physiognomic handbook
Alandimm also contains interpretations of a persons hair, including, for
instance, If the hair on his head is red, (variant) he is trustworthy (II 87).
There are also omens based on a persons behavior.
20. On the attachment of extrinsic meaning to disability and other physical dif-
ferences in umma izbu, see Schipper, Disability Studies and the Hebrew Bible,
7173.
21. Leichty, The Omen Series umma Izbu, 20.
22. Rochberg explains the impossibility of some astrological omens (The Heavenly
Writing: Divination, Horoscopy, and Astronomy in Mesopotamian Culture, 6768).
23. Translation of Mladen Popovi, Reading the Human Body, 69. Bck, Die
babylonisch-assyrische Morphoskopie; Bck, Physiognomy in Ancient Mesopo-
tamia and Beyond, 199224.
24. For behavioral omens, see Guinan, A Severed Head Laughed: Stories of Di-
vinatory Interpretation, 15, 2428. This type of physiognomic omen interpre-
tation should not be confused with some notion of primitive medicine; it is
distinct from medical approaches to physical symptoms. Heeel, Diagnosis,
Rebekahs womb, and they came out doing such and such; she essentially
names the rst Presser and the second Grabber. The common attempt to
connect the naming of Esau to the noun ( hair) is based, quite reason-
ably, on the authors explanation of the name: the baby came out red and
hairy, so they named him Esau. I see two options here. One, we should
translate and they named him Esau, without assuming that the name is
based on the rst part of the verse. Twoand I nd this hypothesis most
plausiblethe text as it stands does assume the connection, but just
as we see in the explanation of Samuels name that there must have been
confusion with an earlier tradition (in that case with another specic char-
acter), we see here indication of an original tradition dierent than what
the author implies. In storytelling terms, the child could be named after the
crushing of verse 22 or the hair of verse 25a, but the name can plau-
sibly be etymologically related to , and not to . There are certainly
names that depend on wordplay rather than direct etymological connec-
tion, but where we have a choice between the two, both of which suit the
story, the latter is preferable.
There are many biblical narratives in which women name their children
based on their own experience (Cain, Gen 4:1; Isaac, Gen 18:13, 15; 21:6), or
on Gods actions (Ishmael, Gen 16:11). It is less common for texts to explain
childrens names according to their birth appearance or actions. Even where
this does happen, the naming of children after birth traits does not neces-
sarily constitute the interpretation of a birth omen. In Genesis 25, the
Perez (Gen 38:29; read in both vv. 29 and 30 with some manuscripts of
Sam. Pent., Syr., Tg. Ps.-J.). Zerah, who had started to appear rst, is named on
the basis of his birth, but there is no indication that the name has anything more
than symbolic signicance (i.e., it may only commemorate his birth and not be
meant to represent anything in his personality or life looking forward). Perez
too is named for his birth attributes, but in this case the name is explicitly meant
to have ongoing signicance. Whatever precisely means, it appears to
be a statement about a lasting trait or future event. It is intriguing that it is the
midwife who names him and pronounces this blessing or curse.
29. Hamori, Heavenly Bodies: Pregnancy and Birth Omens in Israel, 47999.
he would now have no reason to remain unsure: he had asked for the right
woman to oer a drink to him and to his camels, and this one did. Why
then his lingering doubt? Reading the scene in light of the particularity of
omens and omen interpretation, it makes sense: he had asked for the sign
of the specic response, Drink, and I will also give water to your camels,
and this woman said, Drink, and then he drank; after that, she oered to
give water to his camels, at which point she went back to the well to draw
more water for them. How awkwardly close to the requested sign, without
actually quite matching itno wonder he stared at her dumbfounded.
We soon nd out, of course, that this is indeed the fulllment of the
requested sign. Rebekahs family also understands this to be the case: when
Abrahams servant tells them the whole story and asks if they will let Re-
bekah go, they acknowledge that the matter has been decided by Yahweh,
so it is not for them to say whether it is good or bad (Gen 24:5051). (The
servant has made matters easier for them in the retelling: note his adjust-
ment of Rebekahs language in v. 46 to match his own.) From her rst ap-
pearance in the story, Rebekah is a walking omen.
At the beginning of the divination scene in Genesis 25, Rebekah again
embodies a sign. It is the physical tumult within her own body that leads
her to inquire of Yahweh. If she was a passive sign to be interpreted in
chapter 24, she is now active in seeking the interpretation of the sign she
carries in her body. Later, when the twins are born, Rebekah moves from
embodying signs and inquiring about signs to interpreting them: now it is
the next generation that embodies the omen.
In the third and nal scene featuring Rebekah, the matriarch acts on
the knowledge she received through her divination, through both Gods re-
sponse to her oracular inquiry and the conrmation of it that she interprets
in the unusual birth appearances of her children. Knowing that the descen-
dants of her younger son are to be served by those of the elder, she arranges
for Jacob to acquire the blessing of the rstborn from his father. This scene,
30. I use sign and omen somewhat interchangeably, and intentionally so: we are
accustomed to seeing sign used for biblical examples and omen for Mesopo-
tamian, and this creates an inaccurate sense of an inherent dierence between
the phenomena. On the widespread notion of signs and omens in Near Eastern
literature, including in the Bible, see Annus, On the Beginnings and Conti-
nuities of Omen Sciences in the Ancient World, esp. 913; and Noegel, Sign,
Sign, Everywhere a Sign: Script, Power, and Interpretation in the Ancient Near
East, 14362.
1. This takes a variety of forms. Trible presents Miriam as the archetypal female
prophet in her inuential article, Bringing Miriam Out of the Shadows, 182.
Fuchs remarks that she agrees with Trible only on one part of this: Miriam pre-
gures a succession of woman prophets in the Hebrew Bible, but in my reading
she pregures their erasure, not their authority (Prophecy and the Construc-
tion of Women, 60). Gafney, introducing the various women she will choose to
identify as prophets, writes: Each of them is a daughter of Miriam, the mother
of all women-prophets (Daughters of Miriam, x). For others, it is more a matter
of positing an ancient perspective: Butting sees Miriam as the embodiment of
prophecy in the Torah (Prophetinnen Gefragt, e.g., 10, 77), following generally
Kesslers view of Miriam as the post-exilic symbol of prophecy, noting Mic 6:4,
where he sees Moses, Aaron, and Miriam as standing for Torah, cult, and proph-
ecy (Miriam and the Prophecy of the Persian Period, 7786). Of course, even
the view noted earlier of Moses as the paradigmatic male prophet is based only
on certain biblical sources and not others.
61
2. On the development of texts through added introductions, see the useful ap-
proach of Milstein, Reworking Ancient Texts: Revision through Introduction
in Biblical and Mesopotamian Literature.
derived from the expectation that the infant will surely die, whether by
ood or fang.
So from a literary perspective, the Pharaohs daughter was always go-
ing to come save the boy and the day, but young Miriam is not there to
fend o crocodiles until a princess appears: she is watching Mosess basket
at a distance, to see what would happen to him (
-, Exod 2:4). This sounds more like morbid curiosity than hero-
ism. The narrator introduces a miraculous rescue by the princess, and with it
an opportunity for the older sister to act strategically, but within the world
of the story, this cannot be what she is expecting. Once this tradition is
joined with that of Miriam as Mosess sister, the tension as she stands at a
distance, waiting and watching him, may even foreshadow the conict to
come.
3. Williamson associates the songs of Miriam and Deborah and suggests that
this could be why they were considered prophets; he states later, Probably the
most consistent element in the portrayal of the prophetess is the association
with inspired singing with accompanying instruments and dancing, suggestive
of feverish enthusiasm if not necessarily ecstasy (Prophetesses in the Hebrew
Bible, 6970, 73). Meyers sees Miriam as having an archetypal role, and pre-
pares the reader considering female prophetic traditions for the presence of a
gender-specic tradition, grounded in musical performance (Miriam, Music,
and Miracles, 2728). Gafney too sees this as central: Miriams prophetic iden-
tity is revealed in the text at the moment she and her dancing disciples perform
the song of thanksgiving that she choreographed to celebrate salvation through
the waters of the Sea of Reeds (Daughters of Miriam, 8081). Fuchs also con-
nects Miriams and Deborahs songs to their prophetic titles (Prophecy and the
Construction of Women, 5758). Butting sees Miriams song as an example of a
connection between music and prophecy as well, but not one that is specic to
women (Prophetinnen Gefragt, 4344).
the association of similar songs with both Miriam and Deborah indicates
anything about prophetic status; I will then discuss the vexed question of
how much of the song should be considered the Song of Miriam; and -
nally I will consider some scholars intuition that something in the nature
of poetry itself points to prophetic inspiration.
Nothing in the contents of what is sung in Exodus 15:121 looks espe-
cially prophetic. The Song of the Sea is explicitly a psalm of victory against
the enemy (Horse and rider he has hurled into the sea . . . This is my
God and I will praise him, the God of my father and I will exalt him . . .
You stretched out your right hand, and the earth swallowed them up,
Exod 15:1, 2, 12). Even those who consider Miriams song to be her pro-
phetic activity do not do so on the basis of its content, but of its form: it is
the very fact that it is a song, and the coincidence of the prophet Deborah
participating in a song as well, that leads to this assumption. There is, how-
ever, a better explanation. The Song of the Sealike the song in Judges 5, to
be discussed lateris a clear example of the victory song tradition.
This is not simply a loose term for a celebratory song that might some-
how also be prophecy. It is a narrowly dened category, identiable by its
specic literary form and narrative contexts, religious and military con-
tent, and even musical terminology, with related examples from other Near
Eastern contexts as well.
The particularity of this genre also explains the attribution of such
songs to both Miriam and Deborah. It is not because the songs are some-
how mysteriously prophetic, in spite of their apparently nonprophetic con-
tent; it is because such victory songs are especially associated with women.
In 1 Samuel 18:67, for instance, a group of women from all of the towns
of Israel come out to greet Saul and David after battle, singing a song and
playing hand drums and dancing ( and , as also in Exod 15:20).
In that context, the women have no prophetic role, and the victory song is
clearly just that. The tradition appears again in Judges 11:34, where Jeph-
thahs daughter comes to welcome him home from battle with hand drums
4. See especially Poethig, The Victory Song Tradition of the Women of Israel.
The literary genre had been recognized previously by many other scholars; Poe-
thigs primary contribution is the addition of solid evidence that the victory
song is also a specic identiable musical tradition.
5. On the and tradition and its signicance in the womens victory song
genre, with attention to both philological and archaeological evidence, see ibid.,
3168.
6. Meyers points out that the victory song genre is logically female when the tra-
dition is for the people who are at home (women) to come greet the return-
ing soldiers (men) (Exodus, 11718). This is not the only reason, though, since
other such singing and drumming is also specic to women. On the broader
traditions of womens singing and drumming, see Meyers, Miriam, Music, and
Miracles; Paz, Drums, Women, and Goddesses, esp. 86101; Meyers, Guilds and
Gatherings, 16667; and Meyers, Miriam the Musician, 20730.
7. On the correction of the usual translation tambourine to the more accurate
drum, see Meyers, Miriam, Music, and Miracles, 3136.
8. Classically, Cross and Freedman, The Song of Miriam, 23750; and Cross and
Freedman, Studies in Ancient Yahwistic Poetry, based on their 1950 joint disser-
tation at Johns Hopkins University. They made no claim about actual author-
ship, but only about the superiority of the tradition (E?) which associates the
song with Miriam rather than with Moses (Cross and Freedman, The Song of
Miriam, 237).
9. A recent prime example: Dozeman, Exodus, 32643.
10. E.g., Houtman, Exodus. Houtmans argument against the two-song theory is
especially sharp (Exodus, 2:24041). M. Brenner sees a male chorus and a danc-
ing female chorus, and views the whole as a post-exilic retrojection of cultic
psalm performance in the model of Levitical singers (The Song of the Sea, 4046).
yes; arrangement by gender, no). In recent decades, some have argued that
Miriam leads all of the people in singing (on which more below), and oth-
ers have argued for the model of a group round. I will not detail the vari-
ous arguments here; for clear summaries, readers may consult Dozeman,
who gives particular attention to the history of various generic identica-
tions, and Meyers, who focuses on work from dierent approaches that
highlights the role of Miriam, including that of Phyllis Trible, J. Gerald
Janzen, Susan Ackerman, and others. Some see Miriams role as having
been unfairly diminished through the editorial process; others defend her
as especially highly extolled, even in the current text.
There is some indication that Miriam may have had more of a hand
in leading the song than it rst appears. Moses and the people begin with
I will sing (, or cohortative, Let me sing), and Miriam begins in
15:21 with the imperative Sing! (, masc. pl.). It is tempting to see these
as belonging in the other order. This is by no means certain, though, and
would not exclude the possibility of a song sung back and forth. Further-
more, we must keep in mind that we know extremely little of ancient Isra-
elite musical styles, and we should not assume that this song matches a pat-
tern we know. Additionally, I nd it suspicious that the models articially
retrojected generally happen to match styles especially common in white
Western contexts. Even among group song patterns we might articially
export, the models of a round, or of song leader and chorus (Sing! And the
people sang . . .), are no likelier than the model of singers and respondents
11. Houtman pictures the song sung in rounds, with some verses sung by Moses,
then some by various choirs, then the key verse by Miriam (Exodus, 2:24546).
12. Dozeman, Exodus, 32633; and Meyers, Miriam, Music, and Miracles, 2831;
Trible, Bringing Miriam Out of the Shadows; Janzen, Song of Moses, Song
of Miriam: Who Is Seconding Whom? 21120; Ackerman, Why Is Miriam
Also among the Prophets? 4780; Brooke, The Long-Lost Song of Miriam,
6265.
13. Fuchs sees Miriams song as a poor replacement for actual prophetic speech
(Prophecy and the Construction of Women, 5758). Hamilton proposes that
Exodus 15, far from demoting Miriam, instead puts her on a pedestal (Exodus,
235). I do not see that it must be one extreme or the other; perhaps its just that
shes no Moses. Who is?
14. So also Janzen, Song of Moses, Song of Miriam, 216; Hamilton, Exodus, 234
35; van Dijk-Hemmes, Some Recent Views on the Presentation of the Song of
Miriam, 200.
(The people sang; one or more responded, Yes, sing!). I am not suggesting
that Miriam actually responded by calling out, Sing it! (Preach it!), but
this example should demonstrate that there is more of a breadth of pos-
sibilities than is customarily acknowledged, and the range of options along
with the distance and inaccessibility of the musical tradition leave us no
clearer on the extent of Miriams role than when we began.
What we do know is that Miriam took up a drum and sang out to the
people () . The use of is often understood as referring
to Miriam answering the men, but this is not a good reading, since the
verb also means sing. The two meanings of come from separate
proto-Semitic roots, and are found as separate lexical entries (for example,
BDB 777a). There are many texts in which the verb clearly means sing.
Signicantly, these include all references to the womens victory song when
David returned after killing the giant. To celebrate this improbable victory,
the women came out drumming and dancing, and they sang ( ,
1 Sam 18:67, and as referenced again in 1 Sam 21:12 [Eng. 21:11] and 29:5). The
context is reminiscent of the victory song scene in Exodus 15.
Other uses of this verb also carry a connotation of either particularly
celebratory singing, or battle cries, or both. In Ezra 3:1011, the song is joy-
ful and raucous, accompanied by trumpets and cymbals and great shouting.
In Isaiah 13:22, the verb refers metaphorically to jackals that will sing, paired
with the image in the previous verse that the goats will dance (13:21). In
Exodus 32:18, the verb is used to describe both the sound of battle cries and
the sound of singing; they are so similar that Joshua initially mistakes the
peoples singing for the sound of either victory or defeat. This sheds light on
the way the verb is used twice in Jeremiah: in Jeremiah 51:14 it refers to the
peoples battle cry, and in Jeremiah 25:30, to Gods battle cry, used in parallel
to God roaring ( ) and uttering his voice () . This collec-
tion of uses is telling: victory songs and raucous celebrations, calls to sing,
battle cries, and the paired usage for battle cries and victory celebration. The
verb which perhaps we should render sing outfurther reects the
15. Contra Fischer, who does see the song as demonstrating Miriams prophetic
activity, but not because she is singing: rather, she answers on behalf of the
people as a whole, thus mediating divine-human communication by represent-
ing the group in her response to divine acts (Gottesknderinnen, 6667).
16. E.g., Ps 88:1; 119:172; and 147:7 (where it is used in parallel with , sing);
Num 21:17, to a well, and Isa 27:2, the call to sing to the vineyard.
17. Sarna observes that in Exod 1415 and Judg 45, the recounting of a battle scene
in which a historic prose account is followed by a triumphal ode extolling the
victory is a literary pattern also known from New Kingdom Egyptian texts
(Exodus, 75).
18. Propp considers various possibilities: In Numbers 12, Miriam will claim pro-
phetic powers like those of Aaron and Moses himself. Why is her vocation
mentioned already in 15:20? Perhaps her prophetic oce is directly related to
her musical performance. Deborah, too, is singer and prophetess . . . Perhaps
certain singers were considered inspired, like the Greek bards (Odyssey 22:349).
But most likely, Miriam the prophetess, Aarons sister is simply Miriams full
title, used here upon her rst appearance (Exodus 118, 54647).
stem from a general sense of a link between prophecy and poetry. In some
cases, this is built on an antiquated model, whether found in older sources
or more recent ones. Robert Lowth saw the prophets as singing or chanting
to music; more recently, Joyce Rilett Wood has imagined the early biblical
prophets as performing poets, relying on the tradition of Greek poetic
performance. In other cases, scholars with no such overall views still see
Miriams verse as the expression of her prophetic role. What is there, then,
to this assumption of a link between prophecy and poetry, found in so many
forms, in the work of such a diverse group of scholars?
It is well established that there is a close relationship between prophecy
and poetry, various aspects of their interplay in many periods and contexts
having been explored, with attention to spontaneous mantic verse and to
written oracle, to both the religious concepts and the social realities behind
the relationship. On the most basic level, one might suggest that poetry is
somehow speech on a higher plane (though a writer of prose might object),
speech meant to elicit a pause, provoke a response on what might be con-
sidered a mystical or spiritual level. While poetry is notoriously dicult to
dene, and thankfully doing so is not necessary here, it seems clear that
poetic speech is commonly received dierently than prose is, inviting special
19. Lowth, Lectures on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews; Wood, Prophecy and Poetic
Dialogue, 309; see also M. Brenner, The Song of the Sea, 44.
20. In addition to those cited above, see, e.g., Dozeman, who suggests that Miriams
prophetic identity provides guidelines for interpreting her song. It is more than
an antiphon to the Song of the Sea; it contains its own prophetic interpretation
of the exodus, refocusing the readers attention on the events at the sea, and so
her prophetic song provides a countervoice to the prophecy of Moses in the
Song of the Sea (Exodus, 343).
21. See especially the range of collected essays in Kugel, ed., Poetry and Prophecy.
On the relationship between poetry and prophecy in a range of cultural con-
texts, see, e.g., Nishimura, Retrospective Comprehension: Japanese Foretelling
Songs, 4566; Shaughnessy, Arousing Images: The Poetry of Divination and
the Divination of Poetry, esp. 6773 on Chinese divinatory poems; Menden-
hall, Prophecy and Poetry in Modern Yemen, 34043; Muessig, Prophecy and
Song: Teaching and Preaching by Medieval Women, 14658. See also Leavitt,
ed., Poetry and Prophecy: The Anthropology of Inspiration, a compilation of essays
representing many dierent cultures and periods, from Mayan divination to
Himalayan ritual discourse, as well as a range of methodologies.
22. See, e.g., Eagleton, How to Read a Poem, 2547; Kugel, The Idea of Biblical Poetry,
5995.
attention not only to its ideas as expressed through intentional and mean-
ingful wording (as is the case with prose), but lending greater weight to the
signicance of each word and phrase; perhaps in some way the weight is
shifted in poetry even more toward the import of each word choice and the
resulting combinations, interactions, jarring juxtapositions. The signicance
of specic wording and phrasing should be present in prose, but it is the
essence of poetry. In the reception of prophetic speech, too, special signi-
cance and theological import is attached not only to the underlying ideas
of the message, but to the particularity of its wording.
Many explanations for the relationship between prophecy and poetry
begin with a theological version of this sense of the special nature of po-
etic languagethat poetry is, or is commonly seen as, inspired. Poetic
speech is thus seen as an indicator of inspiration. This is the approach, for
example, of Freedman, who concludes his exploration of the relationship
between prophecy and poetry with the suggestion that poetic speech served
the purpose of helping to conrm authentic revelation, when other stan-
dards (such as the conicting and otherwise dicult ones in Deuteronomy)
did not work: Instead of trying to decide the ultimate issues of truth and
falsehood, which are best left to the eschaton and to the Almighty, we may
examine the more immediate question facing Israel: the test of a prophet
was the presence and power of the Spirit in his message, what he said, and
how he said it. Since the Spirit was the direct source of both prophecy and
poetry, they were the basic indicators and primary evidence of its presence
and activity.
The sense that poetic form lends an air of authenticity to an oracle
is seen elsewhere as well. The correspondence is by no means absolute or
consistent, however, and should not be exported to the biblical context.
In addition to the wide range of perspectives on the relationship between
poetry and prophecy in dierent historical and cultural contexts, there can
be signicant variation within a given context. The spectrum within Greek
society may serve as an example: In some cases, poetry could be seen as
indicating inspiration specically because it lay beyond the human beings
normal power of speech. There was in some contexts a preference for an
uneducated person to serve as an oracle, speaking in verse or singing, be-
cause such a person might not be thought to have composed the verse
autonomously. The Clarian Oracle, for instance, was uneducated, and thus
23. Freedman, Pottery, Poetry, and Prophecy, esp. 1526; quotation 25.
his poetry indicated the authenticity of his message. Johnston notes that
according to Tacitus, the prophet at Claros would drink from the sacred
water there and answer questions posed by visitors (without knowing what
they had asked, as further conrmation of authenticity; cf. Dan 2), and, as
Johnston writes, The man was usually illiterate and ignorant of poetry, but
managed nonetheless to compose his replies in good meter. Even among
the Greek oracles, however, poetry could be seen instead as a reection of
the human speakers agency. The Oracle at Delphi demonstrates the range
of views within Greek society: some Pythia spoke in poetry, and some in
prose, depending on each womans education and ability. It was recognized
that the Oracle had agency in the expression of the inspired message. So
there was real variety even among the Greek oracles (and granted, there is
a signicant time span in this context, but so is there in biblical prophecy).
Poetry could be taken as a sign of inspiration, but it could also be under-
stood specically as a reection of the prophets own abilities. At least at
Delphi, these could be seen as compatible; a poetic oracle could reect the
prophets own background as well as its inspired character. This is not al-
ways the case.
The strongest statement of the incompatibility of human creative
agency and divine inspiration is found in Islam, where the recognition of
poetry as a sign of human agency is utterly counter to any notion of poetry
as indicating authentic inspiration. Within the Quran itself and through-
out the tradition, it is maintained that Muhammad was no poet and that his
prophecy was not poetry. To make the point, the prophet and his authentic
revelation are juxtaposed with the kuhhn (traditional diviners) and their
short rhyming oracles. And yet, for all this, apparently the distinction
24. Johnston, Ancient Greek Divination, 77. Johnston notes variations both in the
ancient tradition and in modern scholarly interpretation: some scholars would
argue that the messages were only put into verse after the original delivery, but
Johnston (while acknowledging that there may have been changes through the
period of the Oracles existence) concludes the above.
25. Ibid., 5051. Here Johnston is rmer than in regard to the Clarian Oracle: the
old scholarly notion that the Oracle would spout divine messages in an ecstatic
frenzy that would then be translated into poetry by the priest is not supported
by the evidence.
26. Zwettler, A Mantic Manifesto: The Sra of The Poets and the Qurnic Foun-
dations of Prophetic Authority, 75119. For examples, a few of which Zwettler
addresses, see 21:5; 36:69; 37:3637; 52:30; 69:4043.
27. Freedman, for instance, writes that the words of Muhammad in the Quran
are all considered poetic . . . prophet and poet are one, and the two categories
are coterminous. In the Quran, poetry and prophecy are the same (Pottery,
Poetry, and Prophecy, 24). This is certainly the impression a reader might get,
but vehemently not the view within the tradition.
28. See Flower, The Seer in Ancient Greece, 5865, on the relationship between seers
and oracle-singers; and for another approach, Nagy, Ancient Greek Poetry,
Prophecy, and Concepts of Theory, esp. 56.
29. On the early date, see Russell, Images of Egypt in Early Biblical Literature,
12776.
30. See also Stkls demonstration that there is no particular connection between
music and prophecy in other Near Eastern literature; Prophecy in the Ancient
Near East, 21115.
stretch. Interestingly, among these texts, as well as in the Zakkur stela and
the Deir Alla texts, when prophets speak their own words and the words
of deities, the latter are more likely to seem poeticthat is, the words at-
tributed to deities at times reect more features of poetic language than
the words only attributed to the prophets. Even allowing for this possible
pattern, however, the Song of the Sea would not look like prophecy, since it
is about divine action and does not convey divine speech.
All in all, the association between poetry and prophecy is far too sim-
plistic. While the two are related in a few senses and in a variety of his-
torical and cultural contexts, the relationship is complex and inconsistent,
and neither the biblical traditions about early prophets nor the other Near
Eastern prophetic material supports the theory of a close relationship in
this particular setting.
One additional consideration is whether a female prophet might be es-
pecially likely to use the medium of song. Any suggestion of this that rests
on some notion that womens modes of expression dier from mens can be
discarded without further comment. There is one issue, however, that may
lend some support to the theory. Where poetic form is understood to point
to authentic inspiration, this can be seen either in terms of reception (an
oracles content being conrmed by its form), or in terms of exploitation
(poetic form being utilized in order to signify an oracles import). Which of
these is in play in a given context is a matter of perspective. If poetic speech
is seen as a strategy for the one delivering an oracle, the use of poetic form
then serves those with limited social power. Where poetry carries a sense
of inspiration and thus implies the authenticity of an oracle, it would allow
those with limited social power to make pronouncements with authority.
However, this would only apply to a social context in which poetic form
was indeed seen as linked to prophetic authority. This may well have been
the case in some Greek contexts, as in some other cultural contexts. It was
not, however, the case with early Israelite prophecy.
There is no reason left, then, to associate the Song of Miriam (whether
contained in v. 21 or even comprising the whole Song of the Sea) with
prophecy. Nothing in the songs form, content, setting, or performance
31. For text and translation of SAA 9 1.6 (formatted as prose, but it could be a
poetic exception), see Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near East,
1068.
34. In 12:1, Miriam and Aaron speak , against Moses; their question, which re-
fers to Moses in the third person, makes evident that it is not spoken with him.
In 12:2, they ask whether Yahweh has spoken only , through Moses, and
not also , through us. The preposition here clearly means through, and
not only with; there is no conict over whether Yahweh speaks with them, as
he does in fact in the very next verse. That the preposition in v. 1 means against
and in v. 2 means through is clear also from Yahwehs response in vv. 68. On
these meanings here, see Milgrom, Numbers, 9394, and many others; Levine,
Numbers 120, 32833; Knierim and Coats, Numbers, 180; Budd, Numbers, 136.
35. The traditional rendering of as leprous (i.e., having Hansens disease) is
probably not accurate. On this particular skin disease, see esp. Levine, Numbers 120,
33233 and 18486; E. Davies, Numbers, 124 and 4446; and Budd, Numbers, 137.
36. Milgrom sees Aarons actions here in light of his priestly role: Since Aaron
was a priest, his seeing her condition conrmed the diagnosis (cf. Lev. 13:217).
Milgrom, Numbers, 97. See also Kessler, Miriam and the Prophecy of the Per-
sian Period, 78.
37. The comparison to spitting highlights the punishment through shame (cf.
Deut 25:9 and Isa 50:6; Milgrom, Numbers, 98). According to Lev 13:4, the ini-
tial quarantine period for a person who appears to have this ailment is seven
days, after which the priest checks for signs of improvement or ongoing symp-
toms and acts accordingly. For somewhat dierent interpretations of how Mir-
iams exclusion relates to Levitical requirements, see Milgrom, Numbers, 98, and
Levine, Numbers 120, 333.
38. I nd myself unconvinced by various expressions of the argument that Mir-
iam is identied in the Persian period as the symbol of prophecy (see Kessler,
Fischer, and Butting, as noted previously), and though I agree that the perspec-
tive of Num 12 diers from the full embrace of prophecy in Num 11, I am more
struckas will become evident belowby the ways in which the text does not
restrict Miriams authority.
of prophetic ability. Rather, they suggest that Yahweh speaks through them
just as he speaks through Moses. They claim equality.
The position of this story is that Yahweh does communicate with the
prophets, but that this hardly compares to his direct appearance and speech
to Moses. Had Miriam and Aaron prophesied, they presumably would have
been ne. Instead, they gave Yahweh a reason to draw a very clear dis-
tinction between mere prophets, with whom he communicated through
dreams and visions, and Moses, with whom he spoke visibly, and directly.
The aim of the story is not to deny Miriams prophetic authority, but to
place thisand all prophetic authorityclearly and rmly below the au-
thority of Moses. Yahweh does speak to Miriam and Aaron even in this
moment, but he does not do so face-to-face (lit., mouth to mouth).
This story is about the uniqueness of Moses, not the insuciency of
Miriam in particular. This is illustrated as Yahweh calls all three to come
to the tent, and then has Aaron and Miriam step forward so he can rebuke
them in front of Moses. This demonstration of preferential communication
embodies the public statement of Mosess unique status.
The central question, then, is why Miriam is singled out for punish-
ment. Aaron too has implied that Yahweh speaks through him as he speaks
through Moses. Why is Aaron not punished? Some have assumed that the
consequences to Miriam must be related to gender, such as Graetz, who
suggests that Miriam was punished with leprosy because women in the
39. The position of Burns, that Miriam was not a prophet but a cultic leader, is not
supported by the evidence, and such a position renders this scene unintelligible
(Has the Lord Indeed Spoken Only Through Moses?). For a strong concise argu-
ment against Burnss major theses, see E. Davies, Numbers, 11516.
40. For various takes on how the story juxtaposes prophetic authority and Mosaic
authority, see, e.g., Kessler, Miriam and the Prophecy of the Persian Period,
7786, esp. 78, 84; Fischer, Gottesknderinnen, 7379; Budd, Numbers, 135, 13839;
and Sperling, Miriam, Aaron and Moses: Sibling Rivalry, 3955.
41. Milgrom considers Yahwehs response to Miriam and Aaron here to consti-
tute direct discourse, which provides an ironic twist. The Lord declares that
He speaks directly only to Moses (v. 8) but here He avoids Moses and speaks
directly to Aaron and Miriam (Numbers, 94). See similarly Sperling, Miriam,
Aaron and Moses: Sibling Rivalry, 54. By the terms of the story, though, it is
not directi.e., even if Miriam and Aaron see the cloud, Yahweh does not
speak with them visibly, as this story denes it, i.e., mouth to mouth.
42. Levines reection on Mosess prophetic leadership in Num 1112 together is
particularly insightful (Numbers 120, 33843).
Biblical world were not supposed to be leaders of men, and that women
with initiative were reproved when they asserted themselves with the only
weapon they had, their power of language. This lacks evidence and should
not be read into the text.
The question of why Miriam alone is punished may have a simpler
answer: this tradition recognizes that Miriam is known as a prophet and
Aaron is not. Since the oense in question is the claim that prophets have
authority equal to that of Mosesand judging by Yahwehs detailed re-
sponse in verses 68, this is the contested assertionthen the greater of-
fender in making such a claim would be the prophet, the one who stands
to gain. Perhaps Yahwehhere detective as well as judgeconsiders who
benets from this crime, and the answer is evident. When the challenge to
Mosess unique authority is raised, the potential threat must be put down,
and that realistic threat is not Aaron or the siblings together, but Miriam the
prophet. The verb in Numbers 12:1 is feminine singular: she spoke ().
This does not mean that the words were Miriams aloneAaron is immedi-
ately named as a participant, after allbut the initial feminine singular verb
may already indicate that this story does not haphazardly, alarmingly, have
Miriam unfairly punished for an oense equally attributable to Aaron, but
that this story focuses on a claim that is in some sense specic to Miriam.
Even if the underlying concern is to establish Mosaic authority as it
pertains to a later time, the author frames this story as one of prophetic
conict. Miriam contests the supposition that Yahweh speaks only through
Moses, claiming that he speaks also through her; the storyteller has Yah-
weh respond in terms of divinatory communication. The text, even if meant
to temper aspects of Numbers 11, must allow for the fact that Moses has
just repeatedly been said to have the spirit of Yahweh upon him (Num 11:17
and 25). Unless we posit an unthinking redactor, the story of Numbers 12
must reckon with the implication of divinatory activity on both sides of
this conict. We should not overlook, then, how the story as it is framed
presents the prophetic conict. And Miriams challenge is not treated like
other challenges to preferred prophets.
This is a spin on the classic prophetic conict. Instead of prophets who
represent dierent social groups or positions claiming that their counterparts
are falsewhether within Yahwism, as in the conict between Jeremiah and
Hananiah, or between Yahwists and others, as in the conict between Elijah
and the prophets of Baalwe have here two prophets of Yahweh, working
together but in conict over their relative authority. Neither one suggests
that the other is a false prophet. Miriam objects to the notion that Moses
alone has access to divine knowledgeapparently Mosess behavior sparks
this (Num 12:1)and the opposing position in the text upholds the reality
of Miriams prophetic access to divine knowledge, but tempers it with a
conversation-stopping conrmation of Mosess unique access.
A few elements of this brief interaction stand out. First, the favored
prophet is relieved of the responsibility of defending himself. The rhetorical
impact of this is signicant: whereas Jeremiah had to prophesy in opposi-
tion to Hananiah and then wait for the course of events to prove him right,
and Elijah had to set up an elaborate demonstration, directly and repeatedly
challenging his opponents and waiting for the re from heaven to prove
him right, Moses says nothing. Moses does nothing. Yahweh, unprompted,
having overheard the challenge to Moses, swoops in and defends his man.
In any story of prophetic conict, such an unprompted and sudden divine
act (Yahweh even broke in , Num 12:4) would command special at-
tention. In this text in particular, it has a dual function. It not only conrms
who the favored prophet is, it enacts its own specic point: Yahweh will go
above and beyond for Moses. Mosess innocence and goodwill is further
emphasized by his prayer for Miriam to be healed of the disease with which
Yahweh has just stricken her: this prophet, the humblest man on earth
(Num 12:3), tries to help his challenger. (It is the readers choice whether to
see this as a demonstration of Mosess humility or as a suspicious insistence
on his wide-eyed innocence.) However, the fact that Yahweh speaks on
Mosess behalf creates the risk that the most signicant dierence between
this and other stories of prophetic conict will be obscured.
Yahweh does not actually disagree with Miriam. Miriam challenges
the notion that Moses has exclusive access to Yahweh, and Yahweh responds
by explaining that Moses has superior access to him. In a scene oddly like
46. Contra Kessler, who argues that Num 12 is a countertext to Mic 6:4, which
in his view places Miriam as an equal to Moses, and that here we see that
telling two ghting children that they are each right in their own way, Yah-
weh explicitly conrms that he really does speak to the prophets, and that
there really is a unique character to his communication with Moses.
A writer wanting to dismiss Miriam would have, or should have, gone
to greater lengths to do so. Miriam, as a prophet of Yahweh, challenges
Moses by insisting that Yahweh speaks through her too, and the writer,
far from attacking Miriams legitimacy as a prophet, conrms that Yah-
weh really does communicate with prophets, with an important caveat (the
divine Sort of ). Compare the outcomes of other prophetic conicts, in
which the prophets not preferred by the author fare less well. Hananiah
drops dead, just as Jeremiah warned him he would as a direct result of his
rebellion, and Elijah has every last one of the prophets of Baal seized and
slaughtered ( Jer 28:1617; 1 Kgs 18:40). Miriam, in contrast, receives a slap
on the wrist. As grave as her public denigration is, her disease and her
shame are temporary.
It is not surprising that the tradition favors Moses; what is surpris-
ing, what is so unusual that we should sit up and take notice, is that in a
story framed as prophetic conict between these two, the tradition also ac-
knowledges the legitimacy of Miriams role as a prophet of Yahweh, whose
authority is diminished only in comparison to the unsurpassed authority of
Moses. Where the biblical tradition would usually portray the one oppos-
ing the favored prophet as a false prophet (even in the case of a prophet of
Yahweh, as in Jer 28), Numbers 12 uses the very validity of Miriams claim to
prophetic status as the way to establish that Mosess claim to divine access
lies even beyond prophecy.
The tradition thus preserves a conicted sense about Miriam, remem-
bering her as a prophet but not recalling any of her prophetic words or
activity. Moreover, when she herself complains of being undervalued as
a prophet, she is punished with a skin disease and its associated shame.
Her disease is remembered again in Deuteronomy 24:9, and some read-
ers see an added emphasis on Miriams rebellion. However, the context
prophecy besides Moses prophecy or, worse, against him is a form of blas-
phemy (Kessler, Miriam and the Prophecy of the Persian Period, 78).
47. This problem is solved in rabbinic tradition by attributing to young Miriam a
prophecy about the birth of Moses (Exod. R. 1:13; Sot.ah 12b). For further discus-
sion, see Bronner, From Eve to Esther, 16770.
48. Burns, for example, reads into the text an admonition to remember what hap-
pened to one of our ancestors when she questioned the authority of the Levites
(Has the Lord Indeed Spoken Only Through Moses? 106).
1. Paz falls somewhere in the middle, observing that although there is no refer-
ence to drumming in Judg 5, the songs structure and content indicate a connec-
tion to the victory song genre (Drums, Women, and Goddesses, 90). Meyers had
gone further, seeing implied drumming in the song (Of Drums and Damsels:
Womens Performance in Ancient Israel, 22). Beyond the matter of drumming:
although some earlier commentators had posited a precise and consistent set
of elements for victory songs and their contexts (e.g., Noth, Exodus, 122), more
82
I argued that the Song of the Sea is not Miriams prophetic activity; neither
is the victory song in Judges 5 an example of Deborahs prophetic activity.
As a reminder, it has been established that victory songs are primarily asso-
ciated with women, so the partial attribution of these two songs to women
is not coincidentalit is just not about the fact that each woman is at some
point called a .
The notion that Deborahs song is indicative of her role as a prophet
is problematic for other reasons as well. Deborah does not sing alone. She
sings this song with Barak, who is not a prophet. If for Barak, leading this
victory song is not a sign of prophetic identity, it is safe to assume that it is
not for Deborah either.
In addition to the fact that the songs of Exodus 15 and Judges 5 belong
to a particular genre that has examples elsewhere and is demonstrably not
associated with prophecy, and the fact that Deborahs coleader in song is
not a prophet, one must consider how the womens specic singing roles
relate to one another. Deborahs role is not the same as Miriams. In the
song of victory over Sisera, Deborah and Barak sing ( Judg 5:1), and the
people come in with an exhortation to them: Arise arise, Deborah! Arise
arise, sing a song! Get on up, Barak! Take your captives, son of Abinoam!
( Judg 5:12). Depending on how one understands the background of Exo-
dus 15, Miriam may participate in leading the song that Moses and the
Israelites sing together (15:1), or she may have a special role in one part of
the song, where she exhorts others, Sing to Yahweh! (15:21), or, as some
recent work has demonstrated the internal diversity of the victory song. See
especially Hauser, Two Songs of Victory: A Comparison of Exodus 15 and
Judges 5, 26584. Brettler objects to the identication of Judg 5 as a victory
song and strongly criticizes Hauser for overreachingand indeed, for example,
Hausers notion of the water motif as a key component is untenablebut Bret-
tlers alternative explanation that Judg 5 was a poem recited before war has its
own challenges (The Book of Judges, 6669, quotation 69). Overall, if one lands
on a denition of the victory song genre that does not allow for inclusion of
these military chiefs singing a song about their victory, then that denition is
too narrow.
2. In Judg 5:1, as in Num 12:1, a fem. sing. verb is followed by the names of both the
female and male speakers. In Numbers, however, the text goes on to reveal that
the greater accountability was Miriams; in Judges, the text goes on specically
to arm the participation of both characters ( Judg 5:12, quoted above). Per-
haps the fem. sing. verb in Judg 5:1 is used simply because Deborah is the main
character.
have reconstructed it, a whole song may originally have been attributed to
Miriam alone. In no case is the picture of Miriams role parallel to Debo-
rahs in Judges 5, where Deborah and Barak sing together and the people
respond, exhorting the leaders to sing. The fact that Miriam and Deborah
take dierent roles in their songs should present a signicant problem for
those claiming that the womens roles in singing are due to their prophetic
identities.
Just as the Song of the Sea does not reect Miriams prophetic role,
the Song of Deborah and Barak does not reect Deborahs prophetic status
simply by virtue of her being one of its singersany more than it would
show Barak to be engaging in prophetic activity. In this case, however, the
victory song will be seen to contain an allusion to the prophets function.
A Mother in Israel
In the prose story of Judges 4, Deborah is remembered as a prophet and
a judge. In the poetry of Judges 5, she is called something else: a mother
in Israel ( , Judg 5:7). This is not a sudden non sequitur de-
ning Deborah by the existence of children who are mentioned nowhere
in the poetry or prose; it is an epithet referring to her advisory role. The
epithet occurs one other time, in the speech of the wise woman of Abel
(2 Sam 20:18), where it is sometimes taken to refer to the city, but more
straightforwardly should refer to the woman herself.
The sense of as referring to some sort of advisory role has
been observed before, in Judges 5 alone, 2 Samuel 20, or the two together.
Boling reads the phrase a mother in Israel as praising Deborah for her
oracular consultation and prophetic speech. Lindars sees it more gener-
ally as most likely a reference to Deborah as a prophet. Ackerman has
discussed the phrase as it is used in both Judges 5 and 2 Samuel 20, and
3. Though not a crucial matter for the present discussion, the verbs in v. 7b are best
read as second person (until you arose, Deborah); Lindars, Judges 15, 238.
4. Targum Jonathan of Judg 5 adds explicit and repeated references to Deborah
prophesying, but interestingly leaves out the phrase altogether. This
is particularly intriguing since, as Harrington points out on this text, the Targum
includes almost every word of the biblical version (The Prophecy of Deborah:
Interpretive Homiletics in Targum Jonathan of Judges 5, 439).
5. Boling, Judges, 99, 109.
6. Lindars, Judges 15, 23839; he sees her specically as a war prophet, p. 182.
concludes that in both contexts the term refers to a woman who func-
tions as a wise counselor. Olson also sees that the phrase is probably more
than just an endearing title, and suggests, based on Judges 4, Judges 5, and
2 Samuel 20 all taken together, that the epithet may represent
the place and oce of a wise woman prophet who delivers divine oracles
to resolve disputes (see 4:5; 2 Sam 20:1619). (The divinatory role of the
wise woman of Abel will be detailed in the chapter devoted to her and her
Tekoan counterpart.)
In a signicant footnote, Block reads dierently: This af-
fectionate title conjures up notions of warmth and security (one could
imagine Olsons statement above as a direct response to Blocks). How-
ever, he then oers a list of masculine counterparts to the phrase, which
I believe actually provides strong support for the reading of
as a divinatory epithet. He includes Micahs priest and father, who later
defects to become a priest and father to the Danites ( Judg 17:10, 18:19),
and who engages in oracular inquiry (18:5); Elisha calling to Elijah, My
father, my father! (2 Kgs 2:12); and Elisha in turn being called father twice
explicitly (2 Kgs 6:21, 13:14) and once implicitly when Hazael refers to the
king of Aram as Elishas son (2 Kgs 8:9). Block observes that the use of
this language for the prophets is the closest to the sense of the phrase in
Judges 5, but he still sees it as identifying a sense of security.
Almost every one of these masculine counterparts shows metaphorical
parent language applied to a prophet; the exception is a priest. The language
does not just connote a sense of warmth and security. These examples
demonstrate that such terminology refers to religious intermediaries and,
most commonly, to prophets. Additionallythough this is not crucial
the only one of the list who is not a prophet, the priest of Micahs home
1115). Yahweh instructs Moses to gather seventy elders, and tells him
that he will take some of the spirit he had put on Moses and distribute it
among them (11:1617). Moses complies, but when Yahweh does his part,
there is an intriguing detail: when the spirit came upon the elders, they
prophesiedbut they did not do it again ( , 11:25). The
bestowing of Yahwistic spirit that gives the elders the ability to judge also
causes them to prophesyonce. Immediately after this comes the conict
over whether Eldad and Medad really ought to be prophesying ( Joshua:
Stop them! Moses: Now, now, would that all the people of Yahweh were
prophets!). This is part of a larger series of conicts over who among Is-
raels leaders can claim prophetic authority.
So the relationship between judging and prophesying is a close but
tense one. In Exodus 18 and the scenes from Numbers, the roles explicitly
overlap but are not identical. Then we come to the book of Judges, where
the role of the judge changes dramatically, becoming centered almost ex-
clusively on military leadership. One would expect less of an overlap with
prophecy here. The area of intersection is again evident, though, in dier-
ent forms. Throughout the book of Judges, the spirit of Yahweh repeat-
edly comes upon people, either to inaugurate them as judges or to assist
in special circumstances, such as giving Samson bursts of superstrength
( Judg 3:10, 6:34, 11:29, 13:25, 14:6 and 19, 15:14). This particular type of in-
spiration from Yahweh creates the capacity to succeed in battle, just as it
did to judge between concerned parties and to prophesy.
And yet, the only two gures aside from Deborah who are said to be
both prophet and judge are Moses, the rst judge (or proto-judge), and
Samuel, the last. That Deborah is called a prophet while other judges are
not may be related to the fact that Deborah is a judge in the model of Mo-
ses. While she is strongly associated with military victory as well, she is in-
troduced as a judge in the other sense, as the leader to whom the people go
for consultation: She would sit under the Palm of Deborah . . . and the Is-
raelites would come up to her for judgment ( ,
Judg 4:5).
One approach that scholars have taken to Deborahs dual role as prophet
and judge is to excise one element or the other. Some remove the legal
function, which requires providing a dierent explanation for the meaning
of . In Bolings view, the term here refers to oracular decisions. He sees
the delivery of oracles as part of Deborahs role as a military chief, reect-
ing a time when such leaders were responsible for oracular inquiry before
15. Fischer sees Deborah framed as a successor to both Miriam and Moses. She
notes that Deborahs song is usually compared to Miriams, and draws an in-
teresting comparison instead to the song of Moses, but then concludes that
Deborahs military role (e.g., her divine command to Barak) and her literary
position as the rst titled prophet after Moses depict her in Mosaic succession,
while her song identies her with the prophetic role of Miriam (Gottesknderin-
nen, 12023). Fischer also sees a line of succession from Moses to Deborah to
Samuel, based in part on their shared combination of roles, but also on other
literary details she sees linking the stories (pp. 12627).
16. As summarized well by Lindars: In general, the characterization of both Deb-
orah and Jael shows an absence of stereotypes and presupposes a freedom of
action which suggest a greater degree of social equality of women and men in
old Israel than obtained after the rise of the monarchy (Judges 15, 172).
obviously reects the authors sense of normative gender roles, but this is
dierent than an author aiming to depict a particular female character in a
certain way. The authors goal is to illustrate that the men are not living up
to gender norms and that this reects on Israel, but even throughout the
rest of the story, the narrator does not do the same with the women. The
portrayal of Deborah herself is just not strongly gendered, either negatively
or positively.
Among those who understand the story of the female prophet and
judge to be about the fact that she is female, some are moderate. McCann,
for example, reads the line introducing Deborah as an expression of amaze-
ment at her gender, and as the authors further illustration after Judges 3
that Israel lacked suitable male leaders: Ehud was a clever left-handed
trickster; Shamgar may not even have been an Israelite; and now, the next
judge is a woman! This is a reasonable suggestion, but I see no more
indication that the present story is about Deborahs gender than that the
previous story is about Ehuds left-handedness. The introductory line may
emphasize gender: Now Deborah, a female prophet, the wife of Lappi-
dot, she was judging Israel at that time ( Judg 4:4). If it does, this is only
through the phrase ; but as Williamson has observed, the paral-
lel phrase occurs in the introduction to the next story ( Judg 6:8).
Even if the line emphasizes gender, this still does not indicate surprise at
the existence of a female prophet and judge; it sets the scene for the mock-
ery of Barak, and later Sisera.
Butler also focuses on this verse, stating repeatedly that Deborah
is rst and foremost a woman. After the second statement of this, he
adds, As such she holds oces most commonly held by menjudge and
prophetwhile also conforming to expectations as a wife. The emphasis
on her gender points to the lack of men to ll such roles and to Deborahs
extraordinary talents. She points away from herself to the surprise hero,
Jael. He concludes later that the rst part of the text focuses only on a fe-
male judge, prophetess, wife far removed from the enemy leaders. While
Butler reasonably objects to some overly positive views of Deborah (Com-
mentators easily make too much of Deborah), he may then go a bit far
in the other direction. The focus on this verse is puzzling, since the rest
of the story is much more concerned with Deborahs various actions: de-
livering , summoning Barak and telling him what Yahweh has com-
manded of him, instructing him in the specics of what he should do on
the battleeld, joining him in battle, and commanding him once more in
the eld in the name of Yahweh.
On the optimistic end, some read the introductory verse as describing
Deborahs personality. The character is introduced as
. Even taken alone, should be taken as a reference to
Deborahs husband (though see Niditch on Vaticanus, noted below). Given
the parallel with Huldah, who is introduced as , it is
unlikely that the phrase in Judges 4:4 means anything dierent. Nonethe-
less, many scholars suggest for some version of ery woman,
which does not work well grammatically and has no precedent. Finally,
there are those who see in the depiction of Deborah overall a celebration,
defense, or vindication of womankind.
There is no good indication that the ancient author was preoccupied
with Deborahs gender or intended to write a story about Deborah as a
woman, let alone a story about womankind. As to Deborahs role as judge,
we should not be amazed to see a woman portrayed in a leadership position
in Iron I Israel, as Meyers has established. As Ackerman has observed,
the story of Deborah reects what one might expect from the archaeologi-
cal and ethnographic data supplied by Meyers. There are certainly both
Hannah does not prophesy in the Bible, but she is considered a prophet
in later tradition. In Targum Jonathan, her poem is overtly and emphati-
cally portrayed as a prophetic oracle, beginning with the introduction:
Hannah prayed in a spirit of prophecy and said . . . The content is then
structured around a series of future kings and kingdoms: Concerning Sen-
nacherib the king of Assyriashe prophesied and said . . .; concerning
Nebuchadnezzar the king of Babylonshe prophesied and said . . .; and
so on, through Greece and Rome, as well as those walking in darkness in
Gehenna. Hannah is also included in the list of seven female prophets in
the Talmud, in Megillah 14a. The brief discussion there cites the opening
verse of her psalm, My heart rejoices in Yahweh, and my horn is exalted in
1. Harrington and Saldarini, Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets, 1056. While
the additions to the text are remarkable, they are not unique to Hannah in
Tg. Neb. The only other long additions are also made to poems: the song of Deb-
orah and the song of David in 2 Sam 22 are expanded in a mode Harrington and
Saldarini call interpretative homiletics, and the poem of 2 Sam 23:17 becomes
prophetic apocalypse (pp. 1012). On the early interpretation of Hannah, see
Cook, Hannahs Desire, Gods Design: Early Interpretation of the Story of Hannah.
2. The list in Meg. 14a (with continued discussion in Meg. 14b) includes Miriam,
Deborah, and Huldah, and adds Sarah, Hannah, Esther, and Abigail, but leaves
out the unnamed female prophet of Isa 8:3 and Noadiah. I treat Hannah here
and not the other rabbinic additions because it is only in her case that specic
features of the biblical text beg the question. For more on each of the others, see
Bronner, From Eve to Esther, 16384, and Elior, Changing Perspectives: Female
Prophets in the Bible and Rabbinic Perspective, 1521.
94
Yahweh (1 Sam 2:1), explaining that this refers to the kingdom of David,
who was anointed with a horn.
The interpretation of Hannah as a prophet in Christian tradition is also
based on her poem. In the New Testament, Marys psalm includes strong al-
lusions to Hannahs, making Hannahs look like fullled prophecy (Luke 1:
4655). The nal line of Hannahs poem becomes central in later Christian
interpretation. Augustine devotes an entire chapter in City of God to an ex-
planation of Hannahs words as prophecy, which he bases largely on the ref-
erence to the king as Yahwehs anointed, or for Augustine, His Christ.
This remained an explicit factor in later Christian formative interpretation
of the poem as prophecy.
The question, then, is whether the later traditions that see Hannah as
a prophet are picking up on anything in the biblical text itself that indicates
that the character is meant to be understood this way. Indeed, Hannahs
psalm does in some ways resemble a prophetic oracleunlike, for exam-
ple, the Song of the Sea. It includes a series of reversals of fortune of a fa-
miliar prophetic type (for example, Isa 35:110, 54:1), and then there is the
nal verse, in which Hannah proclaims that Yahweh will give strength to
his king, and raise the horn of his anointed ( -,
1 Sam 2:10), having only just weaned the boy who would anoint the
rst king.
However, the psalm is not original to the story of Hannah. At whatever
point it was written, as an independent poem it would not constitute proph-
ecy. It is the editorial act of placing it in Hannahs mouththe mother of
Samuel, speaking of the anointed kingthat gives it its prophetic tone.
What are we to make of this? Should we assume that the redactor saw the
general appropriateness of the psalm and threw it in in spite of the anach-
ronistic line about the monarchy? This hardly makes sense; the reference to
the monarchy is more likely part of what makes the poem relevant to Han-
nah as she gives thanks for the birth of Samuel. Whatever the redactors
thought process here, the choice to attribute this psalm to Hannah upon
the birth of her son forms the beginning of her association with prophecy.
We are dealing with three stages of development, then: the original
Hannah narrative, the addition of the poem, and later Jewish and Christian
interpretation naming Hannah as a prophet. At which stage did Hannahs
association with prophecy become deliberate? Was there a hook already in
the narrative, leading the redactor to respond to the existing story by plac-
ing a psalm in Hannahs mouth that rings of the prophetic? Or if nothing
in the original story points to this, is the poem itself prophetic enough to
warrant identifying Hannah as a biblical prophet? Or, if neither of these is
the case, what was it in the combination of the poetry and prose that led to
such a strong trend in later interpretation?
Hannahs Story
The story of Hannah is primarily the story of her struggle with infer-
tility and the conicts and frustrations this brings. The rst thing we are
told about Hannah is that, unlike Peninnah, she has no children. Peninnah
already has at least four children, referred to as all of her sons and daugh-
ters (1 Sam 1:4). We do not know for how long this situation lasted, but we
know that it was signicant in both time and trauma. We hear that Yahweh
has closed Hannahs womb, and Peninnah angers her on account of her
barrenness; year after year, whenever they went up to Shiloh, she would
make Hannah angry, and Hannah would cry and not eat (v. 7).
Hannah is then said to be bitter of spirit, ( 1 Sam 1:10); one
naturally thinks here of Hushais warning to Absalom, mid-usurpation
attempt, that David and his men are embittered, like a bear robbed [of
her cubs] in the wild ( , 2 Sam 17:8). Note
that in that context is often translated as erce (NASB, NIV )
or enraged (NKJV, ESV ). And indeed, Hannah too is enraged. Verbal
and nominal forms of the word occur four times in the rst section
of this story: her rival angered her, such anger (-;
assuming the emphatic use of , 1 Sam 1:6); year after year she made
her angry (, v. 7). The verse is not generally rendered this way:
translators and other interpreters would have Peninnah taunt (NJPS),
irritate (NASB), or provoke (NKJV ) Hannah. This is not what the text
says. We are told only that Peninnah angers Hannah; perhaps she does
something, but for all we know, it is the mere sight of the innocent but
fortunate wife that makes Hannah angry, just as Saul will become angry
at the innocent but frustratingly successful David. The assumption that
Peninnah taunts Hannah is laden with gendered stereotypes of female
competition. It is not what the verb means, and I have not found it trans-
lated as such in any other context.
The fourth use of , the one in Hannahs own voice, provides a vivid
picture of the scene. When Eli accuses Hannah of drunkenness, she pro-
tests that she has been speaking out of the greatness of my complaint and
my anger ( , v. 16). This too is softened in translation, or
perhaps feminized, as various renditions make Hannah speak out of her
anguish and distress (NJPS), concern and provocation (NASB), com-
plaint and grief (NKJV), and so on. But no: Hannah is not sad, she is
angry. This also sheds light on Elis reaction. It is not that no one had ever
silently mouthed prayers before, as is sometimes suggested, but that Han-
nah is silently pouring out [her] soul in complaint and rage. What must
that have looked like? No wonder Eli thinks she is drunk.
So Hannah prays and sobs ( , v. 10) in her anger, makes
her vow to Yahweh, and explains to Eli: I am a hard-spirited woman
( - , v. 15), again softened to unhappy (NJPS) or sorrowful
(NKJV). It is unclear what particular brand of misery this expresseswhat
it means to be hard, severe, harsh of spiritbut unhappy seems mild. We
read that she and Elkanah went home and had sex, and Yahweh remembered
her. The text continues to give unusual attention to Hannahs inner world,
not just labeling her barren (or infertile), but oering a window onto her
experience of and feelings about childlessness. Once Samuel is nally born,
we see Hannahs reluctance to give up the boy too soon: when Elkanah and
the household go back up to Shiloh, she does not go with them, telling her
husband, Until the boy is weaned ( !) Then I will bring him; for
when he appears before Yahweh, he will stay there forever (1 Sam 1:22).
8. According to Ber. 31a, Hannahs silent prayer is a model for all; by my reading,
this would make for quite a global scene.
9. And little does he know: she indeed is no -( 1:16), unlike his sons,
soon shown to be quite the ( 2:12).
10. The phrasing is adjusted to work in English in all sorts of ways, many of which
are perfectly reasonable (e.g., Not until the boy is weaned). My rendering
here is direct and perhaps too literal, but the abbreviated insistence expresses
Hannahs Prayer
The poem of 1 Samuel 2:110 is usually referred to as a song, pre-
sumably by analogy with other inserted poems where the vocabulary of
something otherwise lost: a tone of urgency? A hint, even, that this is not the rst
occurrence of the conversation? Perhaps: Elkanah agrees, but adds, May Yahweh
nevertheless conrm his word (- , v. 23), i.e., to take Samuel
as a Nazirite. In other words, Okay, but I hope Yahweh will still want him.
11. This phrase may well be corrupt, but it does also make good sense, as it must
have at some point to an ancient eye.
12. For dierent takes on 1:20, in which Samuels name is explained using the verb
, see McCarter, 1 Samuel, 6263; Hertzberg, 1 and 2 Samuel, 2526; and Gor-
don, 1 and 2 Samuel, 2324.
13. The form may be used to introduce the words of a song where it is speci-
ed through the primary verb that it is in fact a song ( . . . , Judg 5:1),
but in 1 Sam 2:110, there is no song terminology used at all; the primary verb in
the introductory phrase implies speech, and the form of has the connota-
tion of actual speaking ( . . . ).
14. The general association is common. Fischer understands the connection in a
more specic, albeit complex, way. As noted earlier, she sees Deborah depicted
as a successor both to Miriam (in her song) and to Moses, and then Samuel
as the successor to Deborah. She describes the prophetic succession as passed
through Hannah (in literary terms). In Fischers view, Hannahs song reects
her prophetic function in the model of Miriam, and she passes on this role to
her son Samuel, who, as prophet, judge, and military leader, stands in succession
to both Deborah and Moses (Gottesknderinnen, 12527).
a prayer: read this way, it is utterly in line with the characterization of Han-
nah so far. This is her second prayer, and in several ways it mirrors her rst.
Beginning with the more obvious mirroring, the two prayers are a
please and thank you. Hannahs rst prayer (1:1011) was a request; this
one is now its counterpart, her prayer of thanksgiving after the request has
been granted. Then there is the reference in the second prayer to the barren
woman bearing children, which addresses the specics of Hannahs request
(and is the clear hook for the redactor in attributing the poem to Hannah).
The mirroring extends considerably beyond this. The prayer in 1 Sam 2:
110 reects Hannahs experience and her strongest feelings, which were
emphasized in the original narrative. This is evident in verse 5, where Han-
nah does not celebrate only that the barren woman gives birth to seven,
but also that the mother of many pines away () . The sec-
ond phrase does not automatically go with the rst; consider Psalm 113:9,
where Yahweh is praised for making the barren woman a joyful mother of
childrenand that is all. In contrast, the ill wishes here against the mother
of many are striking. Since when does thanking Yahweh involve such
schadenfreude? Of course, Hannahs bitter anger is nothing new. Just as her
rst prayer was introduced, She was embittered of spirit and she prayed to
Yahweh, sobbing, her second prayer reects her embittered spirit as well.
The core of the poem is a series of great reversals of fortune at the hand
of Yahwehthe strong warriors and the weak, the rich and the poorand
so the inclusion of the barren womans counterpart makes sense in this
context, even apart from any correlation to the Hannah story. But the con-
nection to Hannahs experience should not be downplayed for this reason.
Whether because the redactor found an extremely relevant t or did some
writing of his own here, the points of connection are surprisingly close. The
poem does not contain a stock reference to the peculiar biblical category
of the post-barren woman, but a strikingly relevant contrast between two
women. As with each other reversal of fortune, the second part is as im-
portant as the rst. If we understand that the post-barren mother of seven
in the poem alludes to Hannah, we can equally assume that the mother of
many alludes to Peninnah.
Hannahs rst prayer was a focal point in the authors portrayal of
her distress: she prayed with such bitterness and sobbing that Eli thought
her a lush; she explained to him that she was not drunk, but hard-spirited.
Her anger was also emphasized over and over again in the narrative. Now, in
her second prayer, Hannah celebrates not only that the barren woman has
borne children, but that her counterpart, the mother of many, languishes.
Apparently she is not quite over her anger.
The poems points of connection to the story of Hannah are not limited
to the line juxtaposing the post-barren woman with the mother of many.
Framing the series of reversals that comprises the core of the poem (1 Sam 2:
48), there are two more lines that are germane to Hannahs experience. Just
before this core section is the line, Do not keep talking so utterly proudly,
with arrogance spilling out of your mouths (1 Sam 2:3), and just after it,
The wicked will be silenced (2:9). Though we do not know that Peninnah
taunted Hannah, we do know that the narrative frames her as Hannahs
adversary at whom she is deeply angry. Eli has certainly spoken wrongly to
Hannah, falsely accusing her of drunkenness when she was in fact praying.
This episode is particularly relevant, since the poem is inserted just at the mo-
ment of Hannahs vindication before Eli. The paired lines in the poem about
silencing the arrogant seem to suit the narrative as well. In addition, part of
the opening line of the prayer is about the speaker smiling over her enemies.
The poem is not a reexive insertion that hinges solely on one allusion to
motherhood. From its opening on smiling over ones enemies and its theme
of silencing the smug, to the speakers satisfaction at the mother of many lan-
guishing, the prayer ties into Hannahs experiences throughout the story. This
poem works extremely well as the prayer of a woman who is described re-
peatedly as angry and angered (with four uses of in one short narrative),
, and -, contrasted with Peninnah and in conict with Eli.
There is still the matter of the last line. The nal couplet of the poem
refers to the king, who does not yet exist. While this line is not directly rel-
evant to the story of Hannah as presented in 1 Samuel 1, it could easily be
another hook for the redactor, who sees the bigger picture of Hannah giv-
ing birth to the new order. The Hannah story points to the monarchy, as she
bears the child who will anoint the rst kings. The reference in the poem
to Yahweh exalting the horn of his anointed then comes across as a matter
of literary foreshadowing. There is no indication that it goes beyond this,
that it is intended to be a sudden prophetic utterance. All signs point to the
contrary. The poem is rich with themes relevant to Hannahs personal expe-
rience, and thus appears more as a prayer of praise and thanksgiving than as
a lead-in to a prophetic outburst. There is also no hint of earlier divinatory
activity that would lead to an oracle here: what Hannah asks for in the nar-
rative is a son, and not knowledge, and the redactor inserts this prayer as her
response to receiving what she requested. The theme of reversals of fortune,
Identifying this structure is useful for highlighting themes and for clar-
ity of discussion, but these themes are present whether or not one views
the poem as a chiasm. The speaker emphasizes her vindication before her
15. This structure suggests that the nal couplet regarding the king is not a later
addition, as is sometimes proposed. For other arguments that the couplet is
original to the poem, see Lewis, The Textual History of the Song of Hannah:
1 Sam II 110, 4344.
16. I am generally suspicious of interpretations that purport to work in the other
directioni.e., that supposedly begin with an objectively observed chiastic
structuresince it is possible to delimit texts in a variety of ways according to
ones view of what the pinnacle of the chiasm should be. I am therefore of the
enemies, who have spoken smugly but should be silent and will in fact be
silenced, while her horn and the horn of Yahwehs anointed will be exalted.
Hannahs prayer does not reect prophetic activity by virtue of being
a womans song, nor by virtue of its nal line regarding the king. On the
rst issue, even if a womans song were in fact an indicator of her prophetic
role (and it is not), this poem is explicitly not a song, but a spoken prayer.
On the second issue, the mention of the king is not central to the poem and
not the main hook for the redactor. If it was part of the redactors rationale
in inserting the prayer, it was due to Hannahs literary position and her
role as mother of the new order, not because of any intent to depict her as
a prophet. Had that been the redactors aim, he could have done far better.
This is a psalm of vindication, with themes from Hannahs experience
reverberating throughout, and the redactors choice to attribute the poem
to Hannah must be based on its close relevance to her (or includes addi-
tional editing that makes it so). The nal line is a moment of literary fore-
shadowing, not a portrayal of a person engaging in divination. Even that
line parallels the speakers own exaltation: it is Hannah who is exalted and
vindicated here. In the end, it is not about Samuel, David, or anyone else,
but about Hannah.
opinion that noting a chiastic structure may be helpful for discussion, but not
denitive for interpretation.
Yahweh does not in fact raise up the poor from the dust or the needy
from the ash heap.
So it is only in the third stage, that of Jewish and Christian interpre-
tation after the period of the writing of the Hebrew Bible, that Hannah
comes to be associated with prophecy. The reasons for this association in
both Jewish and Christian traditions are understandable, but this is quite
dierent than the character actually being portrayed as engaging in divi-
natory activity. There is nothing either in the original narrative or in the
inserted psalm of vindication that would register as an act of divination in
any sense native to the ancient framework.
Seeing Hannah as a prophet (which requires seeing her poem as proph-
ecy) is not a harmless expansion of her role. In addition to being imprecise
regarding textual details and matters of what constitutes divinatory activity,
it also takes away from the actual depiction of the character by reading her
prayer as being about some later gure, rather than about Hannah herself.
She utters this prayerinserted at the moment of her vindication before
Elistill bitter enough to exhort her enemies to stop being so arrogant,
to celebrate the silencing of her adversary, and to take satisfaction in the
languishing of the mother of many. This prayer is about her.
With this said, there is one line in the poem that I do like to read
as an allusion to a future event, though it is certainly not intended that
way. Among the series of reversals of fortune, one is particularly intrigu-
ing. What does it mean to say, Yahweh kills and makes live, brings down
to Sheol and brings up ( ,i1 Sam 2:6)? To
kill and to make live, sure; but if Yahweh is bringing some people down to
Sheol . . . whom is he bringing up? With full acknowledgment that this is
not the redactors goal, I like to see in this a hint of another story, which is
the topic of the next chapter.
17. Bailey, The Redemption of YHWH: A Literary Critical Function of the Songs
of Hannah and David, 11718.
The -
The character is not a witch. This is not simply a matter of interpreta-
tion. The word , sorceress or witch (as in Exod 22:17 [Eng. 22:18]),
does not appear here; nor does a feminine form of , the spell
caster who follows the in the list of magicians and diviners in Deu-
teronomy 18:1011. The term , sorceress (Nah 3:4), could have
been used here and was not. The woman is instead called an - ,
a woman who is a ghost-diviner. The technical terminology matches the
description of the womans actions: she does not practice witchcraft or cast
a spell, but acts as an intermediary between the living and the dead.
The vocabulary used throughout the rest of the text also consistently
points to the womans role as a necromancer, and not to witchcraft. Saul is
not looking for someone to cast a spell, but to raise a ghost (). The setup
to the story prepares the reader for the irony of Saul resorting to this type of
105
4. The constructs formed by the second and third terms (B+C) are of dierent
types- is essentially an attributive construct, and - is epex-
egetical, i.e., the direction of modication is reversed (see both as discussed in
IBHS 9.5.3c)but the unusual chains A+(B+C), both meaning A=(B+C), are
of the same type. It is not necessary to posit a conation of two terms,
and -in both occurrences of the full phrase in the textas McCarter
does (1 Samuel, 418). The LXX should not have priority here.
5. The words notoriously unclear etymology has bedeviled scholars and led to an
array of propositions, which have at times been too quick to correlate a precise
meaning in rst millennium Hebrew texts to those in second millennium Hit-
tite, Sumerian, Akkadian, and Ugaritic. A prime and inuential example of this
would be the ritual pit theory of Honer, Second Millennium Antecedents
to the Hebrew -b, 385401, based largely on Hittite api, pit, as well as other
cognates. Other chief theories of derivation include Arabic ba, to return
(Schmidt, Israels Benecent Dead, 151; Lewis, Cults of the Dead in Ancient Israel
and Ugarit, 113 n.36); and , father, so ancestor spirit (Lust, On Wizards
and Prophets, 13342; Tropper, Nekromantie, 19192). See Troppers overview
of arguments regarding the and ( pp. 189204), and his own argument
that the biblical texts do not always make a precise distinction between
and ( 31216). For a very brief summary, see also Tropper, Spirit of the
Dead, 8069; and for a lengthy discussion of relevant issues and full bibliogra-
phy, see Kleiner, Saul in En-Dor, 57184.
6. There is no uniformity in the use of the terms spirit of the dead and ghost in
English. The former better reects the ancient concept in its overlap with deity
language, but in modern parlance the latter may better connote a being that can
appear, visibly. The concept does not translate. I will use both of these two clos-
est equivalents here.
7. Tropper and Loretz both see the plural references to and at the
beginning of 1 Sam 28 as images as well, but this seems a dicult reading. I do
not see that in the present context we are meant to think that Saul could have
had all such images removed from the land; would this then include household
images of the dead? They do both see in the singular later in 1 Sam 28 as
referring to the spirit of the dead. Tropper, Nekromantie, 22325; Loretz, Nek-
romantie und Totenevokation in Mesopotamien, Ugarit und Israel, 3089.
Without evidence to the contrary, we should assume that the dierent vo-
cabulary is indicative of dierent concepts; these nouns are no more likely
to be synonymous than and , which follow them in 2 Kings
23:24. While we cannot be certain based on the data available, it is conceiv-
able, for instance, that refers to a spirit of the dead, and refers to
a knowledgeable spirit, but not one of a dead person. People might inquire
of or , but a necromancer (- )divines by an ( as Saul
specically requests). This is conjecture, though, and narrow and systematic
denitions should not be assumed at all, let alone based on the amount of
evidence available.
In 1 Samuel 28, then, we have a ghost-divinera woman whose title
is recognized by the characters in the story, and unlikely to be a sponta-
neous ction, analogous as it is to the professional title a et.emmi (and
its lexical equivalent L GIDIM.MA). This woman is, by implication,
one of the Saul aimed to throw out of the land in verse 3. In this
story alone, the expansive vocabulary for the world of spirits and their
diviners reects a breadth of necromantic activity: the and
have been exiled; one of the comes into view, now called by the
title - ; she is asked to divine ( )by an ;she complies,
raising an .
In addition to ghost-diviner, I use both the terms medium and
necromancer here, in order to convey the presence of a combination of
elements in the text that do not line up with the modern Western usage
of either term alone: the woman seeks divine knowledge from the spirit
of the dead (the act of a necromancer), and creates a way for the speech of
the deceased to be heard, though Saul sees nothing (typically the modern
Western understanding of the role of the medium).
just to recommend the generosity of this woman, because when the king
had forbidden her to use that art whence her circumstances were bettered
and improved . . . she still did not remember to his disadvantage that he
had condemned her sort of learning . . . but she had compassion upon him,
and comforted him . . . It would be well therefore to imitate [her] example
( Josephus, Ant. 6.14.4 [Whiston]).
However, several particular negative images dominate scholarly inter-
pretation of the woman. The most basic of these is the (mis)labeling of
the woman as a witch, as has been common from ancient and medieval
commentary through modern scholarship. Some who do not use the word
witch nonetheless hold to the traditional view of the woman as wicked.
This line of interpretation can also be seen in a plethora of artistic rendi-
tions of the episode, from the grotesque portrayal of the witch by William
Sydney Mount, to the dark, threatening landscape of the story for Gustave
Dor, and the (wonderful) bacchanalian revelry imagined by Jacob Cor-
nelisz van Oostsanen.
It is frequently assumed that the woman must be either an idolatrous
Israelite or a Canaanite. It is not generally imagined that she could sim-
ply be an Israelite woman practicing Israelite religion. Many presume that
14. See the useful survey of Smelik, The Witch of Endor: 1 Samuel 28 in Rabbinic
and Christian Exegesis till 800 A.D., 16079, though Smelik is more interested
in the question of which interpreters were willing to take the texts portrayal of
necromancy at face value. Among modern scholars who have noted that nega-
tive views of the woman are more attributable to interpreters than to the narra-
tor, see esp. Jobling, 1 Samuel, 18589.
15. Examples are too abundant to list, but include even scholars discussing nec-
romancy (e.g., Schmidt, Israels Benecent Dead, 20120), and those interested
in positive readings of the character (Reis, Eating the Blood: Saul and the
Witch of Endor, 3). See also Simon, who refers to the woman consistently as
a witch, but as alternately sinful and kind (A Balanced Story: The Stern
Prophet and the Kind Witch, 15971).
16. This too comes even from surprising sources, such as Frymer-Kensky, who in-
cludes the woman of En-dor in a discussion of the evil women of the Bible (In
the Wake of the Goddesses, 12627).
17. On musical interpretations, see Leneman, Love, Lust, and Lunacy: The Stories of
Saul and David in Music, ch. 7, and Angert-Quilter and Wall, The Spirit Wife
at Endor, 5572. On modern creative interpretation, note the role of Endora on
the classic television show Bewitched. There is such a thing as a good witch on
the show, and Endora is not it.
the story tells of foreign practice. Cogan, for instance, claims that the text
is evidence for Israelite aversion to Canaanite divinatory practices, and
sheds light on the injunction in Deut 18:913 prohibiting the adoption by
Israel of foreign divinatory practices. Even Schmidt, who argues that the
attribution of necromancy to the Canaanites is an Israelite polemic, sees it
instead as a Mesopotamian form of divination. We see similar references
to the womans pagan religion and to the woman as an idolatrous sha-
man and a polytheist, even though the man she raises is the prophet of
Yahweh and the message she divines is overtly Yahwistic. Such readings
seem to try hard to dissociate necromancy from Israelite religion.
Some point to the location of En-dor as a sign of the womans foreign-
ness. A diculty with this approach is that we do not know the location
of En-dor. In addition to the fact that nothing in the text suggests that
the woman is not an Israelite, it should be recalled here that the narrative
setup for the irony of Saul consulting a necromancer is that he has exiled
the from the land. The implication is that she is from the landshe,
along with many other necromancers and spirit-diviners.
The impetus to read the character as foreign is the assumption that
such religious activity must not be Israelite. That is to say, the concern is
24. On Arnolds discussion of sex and polytheism, see esp. Jobling, 1 Samuel, 210,
217. On the notion that the woman made sexual advances, see Edelman, King
Saul in the Historiography of Judah, 250.
25. Reis, Eating the Blood, 13, 18. This is not a passing suggestion: Reis oers a
detailed, if implausible, argument for this view.
26. Pigott, 1 Samuel 28Saul and the Not So Wicked Witch of Endor, 438;
Schmidt, The Witch of En-Dor, 1 Samuel 28, and Ancient Near Eastern Nec-
romancy, 128.
27. Jobling, 1 Samuel, 187 and 187 n.14.
28. Some have argued that necromancy was generally practiced at nighttime
and have suggested specic conscious rationale for this, most realistically the
fact the opposite of what Jobling suggests: the woman in this story is never
condemned, in stark contrast to the desperate king.
Logic notwithstanding, the interpretive tendency is to read into the
story things exotic and erotic. This is not warranted by anything in the text
itself. Despite traditional and scholarly assumptions that the woman must
be a witch, a foreigner, a polytheist, a sexual deviant, or all of the above,
there is no indication in the text that she is anything other than a Yahwistic
diviner providing her services of religious access for the king.
association between darkness below and darkness above (e.g., Lewis, Cults of the
Dead, 12, 114, 14243). Whether or not this is provable as a consistent pattern,
there is surely an element of human instinct here: ghouls like night.
29. This does not imply exclusive Yahwism. Her divination does, however, serve
Yahweh. Note that the verb is used both negatively and positively (see, e.g.,
the list of respected roles in Isa 3:2, including the judge, prophet, diviner []
and elder). Fischer too sees the woman as acting in the name of Yahweh, and
thus calls her a prophetonly a false one. She reads the text as a deliberate
commentary on the perils of false prophecy, with Deut 18 consciously in the
ancient authors mind (Gottesknderinnen, 50, 131, 139). In this case, she sees
the character herself as aware of the specic legislation (pp. 14748, 15354). In
Fischers view, even though the woman passed on a true message, her method
makes her a false prophet; moreover, even the true message is not a new one,
and it is thus portrayed as being of no value, and even absurd (pp. 131, 14750,
153, 221).
alongside Achish, that is, against Saul. In verse 4, the Philistines march
against Israel, and Saul gathers his army (lit. all Israel) and they encamp at
Gilboa. In the next verse, we nd out that Saul is terribly afraid (he feared,
and his heart trembled greatly). Tellingly, this is the Bibles only descrip-
tion of an Israelite king being afraid before battle. It is in this moment that
Saul seeks divine knowledge. It was common throughout the Near East for
a king to consult a diviner on the eve of battle: here, though, Sauls moti-
vation is portrayed not as custom, but as palpable fear. The odds for suc-
cess are immediately stacked against him, since he has already removed the
mediums and spiritists from the land. The thrust of the storyemphasized
repeatedly within this text, and utterly characteristic of the entire arc of the
Saul storyis Sauls constant capacity for self-defeat.
And alas, his rst eorts are not successful: Saul inquired of Yahweh,
but Yahweh did not answer himnot by dreams, or by urim, or by prophets
(1 Sam 28:6). These various forms of divination are listed together: indepen-
dent dreaming, use of a magical object, and consultation of approved inter-
mediaries. When these methods failor more pointedly, when Saul fails
to hear through these methodshe turns to a nonapproved intermediary.
30. Many scholars still adhere to the customary delimitations of the text that ex-
clude these verses, preferring to see the story as beginning in v. 3, but this misses
the pointed opposition between David and Saul, as expressed here in the an-
ticipation of literal battle. Since vv. 12 are also not necessarily connected to
the previous chapter, I see no reason to prefer excluding them from this one.
Campbell also suggests that it is unwise to associate these verses with ch. 27
(1 Samuel, 280).
31. Sauls expressions of fear provide further contrast with David. Saul will cry out
to the ghost of Samuel, I am greatly distressed! The Philistines are attacking
me, and God has turned away from me, and doesnt answer me anymore, not
by prophets or by dreams, so I called you to tell me what to do! (1 Sam 28:15).
His concern is clearly for himself. Soon afterward, David, in contrast, laments
for Jonathan, I am distressed over you ( -,i2 Sam 1:26). Saul says only
-, and continues, The Philistines are attacking me, and so forth. Saul acts
out of fear, and more for himself than for Israel. Once again, the depiction of
Saul reveals that he does not hold a candle to David.
32. Although there are other Near Eastern examples of divination through sev-
eral means in turn (Cogan, The Road to En-dor, 32125), in this context the
string of failed attempts at divination clearly reects Sauls inability to hear
from Yahweh.
33. The use of the verb in v. 6 ( ) should not be taken as representing
something phenomenologically distinct from in v. 7. Although an author
might have chosen to use the verb in any case (as in several texts below),
the alliterative eect should not be underestimated.
34. This should pose a problem for those who see the portrayal of Sauls generally
erroneous ways as implying a condemnation of the necromancer; e.g., Nihan,
1 Samuel 28 and the Condemnation of Necromancy in Persian Yehud, 2354.
Note that the end of ch. 15 has a marvelous eect when read with ch. 28 in mind:
Samuel left for Ramah, and never saw Saul again until the day of his death
though he did see him after that.
35. Arnold, for example, also sees the intentional juxtaposition of Saul and Davids
modes of divine communication, but argues that the Deuteronomists point is
to show Davids superiority through his use of prophecy rather than magic,
concluding: In Sauls moment of crisis, he turned to the deplorable necroman-
tic option, whereas David consistently and commendably relied on the pro-
phetic word of Yhwh, as discerned through cleromancy (Necromancy and
Cleromancy in 1 and 2 Samuel, 199213, quotation 213).
that Yahweh had stopped communicating with Saul. The point in the story
is that Saul does not hear anything from Yahwehthat is, until he con-
sults the medium. Picture the hierarchy: David inquires of Yahweh directly,
and always receives a clear answer. Other kings often inquire successfully
through prophetsalready intermediariesand hear responses. Saul tries
inquiring through multiple means, including dreams, urim, and live proph-
ets, but gets nothing, and so he requires one intermediary to reach another.
David has Gods ear; other kings are once removed; Saul is twice removed.
In a classic storytelling style, the narrator has set up the story with the
foreshadowing note that Samuel was already dead and buried, and that Saul
had removed the mediums and spiritists from the land. The king is in a
bind, then, when all else has failed, and he wants to turn to Samuel. In spite
of his earlier action in banishing these diviners (and Saul so frequently acts
in spite of himself ), he tells his servants to nd him a necromancer. It is in
the context of this focus on Sauls impotence and ineective divination that
we come upon the story of the necromancers eective divination.
36. See esp. Nihan, 1 Samuel 28 and the Condemnation of Necromancy in Persian
Yehud, 2354; Loretz, Nekromantie und Totenevokation, 309, 313.
37. Tropper, for example, observes that the presence of a female necromancer in
this text is not surprising, since women were prominent in Near Eastern magi-
cal activity, but that one cannot conclude that it was exclusively women who
practiced necromancy; rather, what we see here is that women also could act as
necromancers (Nekromantie, 22526).
38. Note the practitioners in the necromancy texts discussed by Jo Ann Scurlock,
Magical Means of Dealing with Ghosts in Ancient Mesopotamia, esp. 10319,
and Finkel, Necromancy in Ancient Mesopotamia, 117.
an overt request: Divine for me by a ghost, and raise for me the person I tell
you to (1 Sam 28:8). The woman, noting the ban on her kind, is well aware
of the dangerous nature of her work. She asks Saul, Why would you entrap
me, to get me killed? Her question uses entrapment imagery associated
with necromancy in other textsonly with herself as the symbolic dead.
Saul convinces her to proceed, swearing to her that all will be well. His
rst words to her are to divine for him ;next he swears to her .
These are not framed in opposition. We still have no indication that this
activity is anything other than Yahwistic; Sauls back-to-back references to
these divine beings seem all of a piece.
The description of the womans actions is unfortunately brief, and we
learn only a little about the (meta)physics of necromancy. Saul makes his
request and his oath, names Samuel as the man to raise, anddisappoint-
ingly, for the interested readerthe next thing we know, the necromancer
has raised him. The fact that the crucial act is skipped over entirely suggests
that the authors interest is not primarily in the necromancer or necro-
mancy itself. (It may also indicate the authors lack of familiarity with actual
necromantic practice, as noted earlier.) So we learn nothing from this about
the mechanics of raising a ghost.
We do, however, get to see one. Verse 3 reminds the reader that Samuel
was buried in Ramah, so it is certainly a ghost the necromancer raises and
not the dead body itself. The ethereal gure, called an in anticipation
of the conjuring, is now called an . Saul, though, sees nothingbut
when Samuel asks Saul a question, Saul can hear and answer, and a con-
versation ensues between the two. The rabbis tried to sort out the principle
behind this: the midrash on Samuel says, Three things are told about how
a conjurer raises a ghost. He who conjures him up does see him but does
not hear his voice. He who needs him does hear his voice but does not see
him. He who does not need him does not hear him nor see him. Those
acquainted with modern popular images of the medium who enables others
to hear the voice of the dead will not be surprised by the portrayal of Sauls
39. As summed up in Lev. R. 26:7, She did what she did, and she said what she
said, and raised him. Contra Fischer, who sees in the plural form of a
reference to multiple spiritsand possibly foreign godsrising up from the
earth, who help her to raise Samuel (Gottesknderinnen, 140).
40. Compare the parallel uses of and in Isa 8:1920. As in Mesopotamia,
it is on occasion possible to see an ilu.
41. Beuken, 1 Samuel 28: The Prophet as Hammer of Witches, 7.
ability to hear the ghost whom he does not see. What is more surprising
is the interpretation that the medium, who does see the ghost, cannot also
hear him.
The oddity of the necromancers recognition of Saul upon seeing Sam-
uel has been discussed interminably and without solution. Saul has dis-
guised himself, and the woman initially does not know him. After the ini-
tial exchange discussed above, Saul asks the woman to raise Samuel (v. 11).
The next line appears to say that the woman saw Samuel and cried out, at
which point she identied her client as Saul (v. 12). Some have argued that
the oddity of this is due to a redactional layer, most notably McCarter,
who claims that the diculty is a consequence of the incorporation of the
gure of Samuel into the story of Sauls interview with an originally anony-
mous ghost. It remains unclear what function that would have had. Klein
prefers instead to see the text as an original unity, over against this proposal
and the common emendation of Saul to Samuel in verse 12, which, as he
points out, still would not explain why the medium did not recognize Saul
until then. He suggests charmingly, Perhaps his appearance was more awe-
inspiring than the usual . Many have attributed the necromancers
recognition of Saul to something in his request itself. McCarter suggests
that in the text as we have it, the woman recognizes Saul because he speaks
with authority as only the king could. Klein notes that there could be
only one person who would want to see Samuel in these troubled times,
though this would not explain why it took seeing Samuel, and not only
hearing the request to raise him, for the woman to react. Others explain
it on the basis of something Samuel says or does. Beuken suggests that
it is because it is the role of prophets to expose kings, and Reis claims that
Samuel would only allow himself to be raised for Saul. Fischer explains
it quite dierently: she suggests that it is the presence of the ghost that
causes the woman to become clairvoyant, and so when the ghost appears,
she knows who Saul is. Campbell, meanwhile, concludes that the text is
puzzling and that no previous readings have helped.
One very small adjustment would actually allow the rest of these details
to fall into place: if we emend the pointing of in verse 12 to match that of
in verse 5, everything suddenly works. In verse 5, we were told that Saul
was afraid , spelled defectivelyand it is possible that verse 12 should
not read -( and the woman saw Samuel and cried
out), but -( but the woman feared Samuel and
cried out), again spelled defectively. Her fear of Samuel would be warranted,
given the prophets nal diatribe to Saul condemning his disobedience re-
garding Agagrebellion is like the sin of divination! ( - ,
15:23)after which Samuel died, and Saul expelled the mediums and then
came to her with the request to divine by Samuels ghost. Moreover, af-
ter Samuels invective, Saul repented, but Samuel refused to forgive him,
slaughtered Agag himself, and never spoke to Saul again. No wonder she
fears Samuel and not Saul! According to this reading, the necromancer
realizes it is Saul from his request to raise Samuel (that is, the prophet who
used to advise the king), and not somehow mysteriously after seeing the
ghost. Further supporting this reading, in verse 13, the woman says that she
sees Samuel rising, and describes what she sees; that is, he has not yet risen
in verse 12.
Any reading of the text as a coherent narrative requires the assumption
of a space, somewhere in these verses, during which the woman performs
the actual raising of the ghost. The common view is that this happens be-
tween verses 11 and 12: Saul asks the medium to raise Samuel (v. 11)in the
narrative silence she obligesand then she sees ( ) Samuel and cries
aloud, now somehow recognizing Saul (v. 12); he says, Do not be afraid [of
me] (v. 13), and then she sees Samuel rising. The cause for general schol-
arly confusion is clear. If, however, we take seriously that the medium sees
Samuel rising in verses 1314 () , then it makes better sense to
assume that the action happens between verses 12 and 13: Saul asks the me-
dium to raise Samuel, but she fears ( ) Samuel, and tells Saul that she
knows who he is (vv. 1112)though, knowing that he is the king, she does
what he demandsbut she fears the prophet, whom she now must face as
she raises him, and thus Saul says, Do not be afraid [of Samuel] (v. 13).
Such a reading would explain the medium as having recognized Saul on the
basis of his own words, appearance, or actions (or entourage), rather than
somehow after raising the ghost, and would make sense of her description
of Samuel rising from the ground in verses 1314. In addition, this has the
nice eect of demonstrating thatas we have already seen, and will see
the medium is much more afraid of Samuel, even after death, than of Saul.
It is also debated how Saul recognizes Samuel on the basis of the me-
diums statement. She describes what she sees: I see an coming up
from the earth . . . an old man is coming up, and he is wrapped in a robe,
and Saul understands that this is Samuel (vv. 1314). It is sometimes pos-
ited that Saul knows this to be Samuel because the robe he is wearing is
specically a prophetic garment. This seems unlikely, given the lack of evi-
dence that there was such a thing. It is tempting to wonder whether instead
of a particular sort of garment, this is one particular robe: it may be remem-
bered that in 1 Sam 15:27, Saul tore Samuels robe. The problem with such a
theory is that it is only the necromancer who sees Samuel, and she says just
that he is wearing a robe. But there is a far simpler reason why Saul would
know that this was Samuel. The very question, though frequently posed,
seems to miss a key point: Saul, having requested the ghost of Samuel,
trusts that the necromancer will successfully raise himso when a man is
raised, neither Saul nor the narrator second-guesses how to identify him.
It has been suggested that the food the woman prepares for Saul and
his men after all of this is some kind of sacricial ritual meal connected to
necromancy. This interpretation lacks support. I admit that it would be
50. The MT reads , an old man, and the LXX reads , i.e.,
(to raise up, as in Ps 145:14), a man standing upright. McCarter prefers the
latter on the principle of lectio dicilior (1 Samuel, 419); though if the LXX
is preferable on this, perhaps the idea is not that the man is standing up, but
raised up.
51. Beuken, 1 Samuel 28: The Prophet as Hammer of Witches, 10; Klein has
Samuel in his usual prophetic robe (1 Samuel, 269).
52. Fischer suggests that this is the same robe Saul saw Samuel wearing in 15:27
(Gottesknderinnen, 140); McCarter refers to the robe as Samuels characteristic
garment, citing 15:27 and 2:19, but does not think this is the basis for recogni-
tion (1 Samuel, 421).
53. Such proposals range from the more reasonable to the somewhat less so. Of the
rst type: Milgrom argues that almost always refers to ritual slaughter, and
appealing to see this as a ritual meal associated with the ancestor cult: the
dead were symbolically invited to such meals, and here we have the literal
presence of a divine ancestor. Moreover, the text never mentions Samuel
going back down into the earth. It would be gleefully macabre to imagine
that the necromancer is feeding not only Saul, but the dead Samuel as
well. However, this seems, shall we say, improbable. First, even in a ritual
of feeding the dead, we have no reason to expect a necromancer to be the
one cooking. Second, it would be ill-advised to read too much into the
fact that Samuels descent is not mentioned before the meal, since it is also
not mentioned afterward. (This is another indication that the author is not
deeply concerned with the act of necromancy itself.) The meal is most likely
a matter of the kings hunger and the mediums safety.
This would likely have been an expected act of hospitality; factoring
in Sauls headlong sprawl of terror and hunger (both specied in v. 20),
the pressure would be mounting for any host to feed the guest in question.
Considering then that our host has recognized that this is the king, it seems
impossible that she would not oer him a meal (whether out of respect,
fear, or some combination of the two). Lastly, those suggesting a ritual
meal seem to overlook the mediums own statement, in which she explains
includes this episode as one such use (Profane Slaughter and a Formulaic Key
to the Composition of Deuteronomy, 12); see also Loretz, Nekromantie und
Totenevokation, 309, and Tropper, Nekromantie, 227. Fischer sees both practical
and ritual aspects of the meal (Gottesknderinnen, 14246, 154). Of the second
type: Reis claims that the meal is a mantic sacrice to the dead entailing the
stringently proscribed eating of blood, and an unholy but legally eective cov-
enant between Gods anointed and an idolatrous shaman. She claims further
that because the manner of preparation is not specied, the lamb must have
been eaten raw, with the blood (Eating the Blood, 4, 17). In another vein, some
suggest that it is an ironic ceremonial royal meal. Klein, following Beuken: In
a sense, as Beuken argues, the woman oered Saul a ceremonial royal meal even
though he had just discovered that all hope of kingship was lost to him. The
ironic touches persist (1 Samuel, 273).
54. Lewis casts doubt on the closest supposed parallels, those at Ugarit, question-
ing the character of the marzeah as a funerary feast comparable to the Meso-
potamian kispu, and challenging the interpretations of the section of Aqhat at
times called The Duties of an Ideal Son (CTA 17.1.2634), and of the Dagan
stelae (KTU 6.13, 6.14), as representing funerary meals (Lewis, Cults of the Dead,
5398). For a more optimistic view of the feeding of the dead in biblical texts,
see Bloch-Smith, Judahite Burial Practices and Beliefs about the Dead, 12230.
precisely why she is oering Saul food: Eat, so that you have the strength
to go on your way (v. 22).
We should not overlook what the text does not say. This is not a short
encounter. The majority of the textverses 8 to 23portrays events as if
in real time. The period of collapsed time in verses 2425 is far longer than
all of the rest of this, however. Although the medium hurried to slaughter
the calf, the process of cooking it would take more time than the divination
itself seems to have. The collapsed time indicates that the narrator does not
see the content of the meal as the point. While the author was not inter-
ested in the mechanics of necromancy, the fact of the raising of Samuel was
still overt. Here, the author is not concerned with any aspects of the meal
that ring of ritual in any way, and we should not invent a subtext. Saul ap-
pears to have fasted in preparation for divination. This is a known practice,
and we are given no alternative reason why he would have had nothing to
eat all day or all night (v. 20). The meal may have had a vague connection
to the act of divination in the sense that it was a break-fast, but on the not-
every-excavated-cup-is-a-ritual-goblet principle, sometimes a meal is just
a meal.
55. Lewis compares this to Davids fasting and lying on the ground in 2 Sam
12:1524, which he interprets as a ritual descent to the underworld (Cults of the
Dead, 4344). A closer comparison might be the various examples of fasting in
preparation for divination, some also oered by Lewis, such as Jehoshaphats
institution of a fast for all of Judah before inquiring of Yahweh in 2 Chr
20:34 (Cults of the Dead, 114). McCarter considers this a fast for purication
(1 Samuel, 421).
56. Consider Beuken, for instance, who inexplicably claims that the initiative is
Samuels: In short, Samuel beats the woman to it. He does not allow himself
to be conjured up: he appears. . . . The conjuration does not succeed. What hap-
pens to the woman appears to be more of a vision (1 Samuel 28: The Prophet as
Hammer of Witches, 89). Others have agreed that this is a good possibility,
e.g., Klein, 1 Samuel, 271. Beuken then engages in a lengthy and rather strongly
stated discussion of the womans incapability of understanding what is happen-
ing, though Saul understands: The mysterious practices shackle her to a level
of comprehension on which she cannot follow the prophet (1 Samuel 28: The
sage comes from the prophet and not the medium, but this is what a me-
dium does: she mediates a message from beyond the grave. In this case,
she mediates a message from the prophet Samuel, who in turn mediates a
message from Yahweh.
Nevertheless, it is common for interpreters to ascribe less agency to the
medium than the text does. We see at the beginning of the story (v. 3) the
reminder not just that Samuel was dead, but that he was buried at Ramah.
Samuel has not been raised from the dead in this story. The ghost of Samuel
appears, courtesy of the necromancer. It should be observed that the ten-
dency of interpreters to refer to Samuel and the witch, rather than the
ghost of Samuel and the medium, distorts the roles and the agency of the
characters as presented in the text. The ghost of Samuel speaks with au-
thority once the medium has conjured him, but he did not come of his own
accord. He in fact asks Saul (a bit irritably, perhaps understandable under
the circumstances), Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up? He
did not want to be brought up, but nds himself there due to the agency
and actions of the medium. Even when he speaks to Saul with Yahwistic
authority, then, this is explicitly brought about only through the mediation
of the necromancer.
The ghost of Samuel is not the only one who speaks with authority.
After the encounter with the ephemeral and ethereal Samuel, the medium
says to Saul (translating quite literally for the moment), Your maidservant
has listened to your voice ( ;) I took my life in my hands
and heard your words (- ) which you spoke to me. So now
you also listen to the voice of your maidservant ( - -
, vv. 2122). The issue of who listens to whose voicenot just in
Prophet as Hammer of Witches, 13). Fuchs writes similarly that the woman
is no match for Gods prophet (Prophecy and the Construction of Women,
56). Reis gives agency to Samuel by arguing that he would only allow himself to
be raised for Saul (Eating the Blood, 910); Simon does this by asking, Why,
though, did the prophet enable this woman, a purveyor of sin, to become the
sole agent of mercy in this episode? (A Balanced Story, 166). A subtler version
of this comes from Brueggemann, who writes, Even in death, Samuel domi-
nates the narrative, and in his discussion of the text pays almost no attention to
the medium at all (First and Second Samuel, 193).
57. Although the particle is often translated please, this is a convention not
grounded in either usage or etymology. Examining the usage of following the
imperative in the prose of the Pentateuch and Former Prophets, Shulman counts
the everyday sense, but in the sense of both hearing and heeding an au-
thoritative voiceis a central theme throughout the text. The narrators
setup of the story is that Saul no longer hears God, who refuses to answer
him. Saul repeats this complaint to Samuel: God has turned away from me
and doesnt answer me anymore, not through prophets or through dreams!
Samuel responds that God will punish Saul because he did not listen to
his voice. Now, nally, Saul hears the answer from the divine realm he has
been seeking, from the ghost of Samuel mediated by the diviner. The theme
continues through the end of the chapter: Saul initially refuses to eat, but
when the medium and his servants urge him together, he relents and heeds
themagain, he listens to their voice. So when the medium turns to Saul
and says, I have heard your voice . . . now you hear my voice, it is not an
ohand remark that stands on its ownit picks up on this central theme,
which runs through the whole story. She speaks boldly to the king, us-
ing the same phrase in regard to Saul heeding her that she has just used
in regard to her heeding him (unlike the many translations with versions
of I obeyed you . . . now you please hear me out). This kind of authority
would not surprise readers from the mouth of a prophet; it most likely has
not surprised anyone, verses earlier, from the mouth of Samuel. Perhaps
it is just as natural for the necromancer to speak to the king with such
authority.
As indicated by both the narrative arc and the acceleration of the use
of the thematic language, the mediums declaration represents the peak use
of this theme in the story. The theme appears in the setup in verse 6, in
Sauls words to Samuel in verse 15, in Samuels speech in verse 18, and then
in the mediums speech to Saul again, and again, and again: three times in
verses 2122. The only occurrence after this is when Saul listens and agrees
to eat. In literary terms, the recurring theme of listening to a voice of au-
thority climaxes in the mediums speech to Saul, with her direction, now
you listen to me.
This underscores the key dramatic shift of the episode. At the begin-
ning of the story, Saul still tries to act with authority, though he is already
seriously faltering. He is trembling with fear before the Philistines and un-
able to divine an answer from God, but he will give orders to the medium:
Divine for me by a ghost, and bring up the one I tell you to! (v. 8). The
medium is rightly frightened in response, knowing she could be killed for
doing this (v. 9). But by the end of the story, Saul is literally laid at out on
the ground, terried by the words of the ghostand also feeble from hun-
ger, the story addsand the medium stands above him and says, I listened
to you . . . now you listen to me (vv. 2022). His initial refusal is not a sign of
any lingering strength or autonomyit is the response of a petulant child,
too hungry to get up to eat, too distraught to be comforted. The medium
cannot do anything about Sauls general weakness and terror, but at least
she can get him o the oor and feed him. My claim that her speech is
authoritative does not rest on an interpretation that she is annoyed, or that
she just wants him to regain enough strength to go. Regardless of her mo-
tivation, which I do not pretend that we can see, she speaks to Saul, who
is lying prostrate on the ground, weak from terror and hunger, with the
authority with which he originally spoke to her.
The mediums authority is not diminished by any guilt of illicit activity;
this issue is overtly addressed in the text. Saul swears to her that she will
bear no guilt. The key phrase in the oath, -( v. 10), is often ren-
dered in ways that soften this, such as you wont get into trouble over this
(NJPS), or the same idea, no punishment shall come upon you (NKJV),
and very similarly the NASB and others. However, the word almost
always means iniquity, referring to an act, or guilt, which is the conse-
quence of an act. Saul does not promise not to punish the medium; he tells
her that she will not bear guilt. Rendering the word as punishment in this
verse, rather than its vastly more common meaning guilt, is a choice that
reects a prior assumption about the texts view of the woman.
The lack of condemnation of necromancy and the necromancer is also
evident in the content of the divined message. The ghost of Samuel reviles
Saul for his disobedience to God in not slaughtering the Amalekites, and
warns of all sorts of terrible things that will happen as a resultbut he
does not so much as mention the fact that Saul is in the act of consulting a
medium. Samuels only complaint in regard to this event is that he did not
want to be disturbed.
It is noteworthy that a story that begins with the information that Saul
had removed the mediums from the land, and which includes condemna-
tion of Saul, does not contain any indication that Yahweh or the ghost
of his prophet had a problem with this act of necromancy. The medium
is never condemned, and Sauls punishment is overtly for other reasons.
Furthermore, that Sauls guilt is connected to the Amalekites is emphasized
after this story: Davids successful divination in 1 Samuel 30:78, mentioned
above, is in regard to whether he should attack the Amalekites; God an-
swers and says yes, and David promptly slaughters them. After this, in one
of the two versions of Sauls death, he is killed by an Amalekite (2 Sam 1:
116). The story of necromancy and the surrounding material are consis-
tent in naming Sauls disobedience regarding the Amalekites as his primary
transgression, in not naming any disobedience on the part of the medium,
and in not condemning this act of necromancy.
Most signicant, of course, is the very fact of the mediums successful
divination. Saul has tried to hear from Yahweh through dreams, through
urim, and through prophets. This should not surprise the reader, since it is a
continuation of an earlier plotline. In chapter 16, the spirit of Yahweh had
left Saul, , and the harmful spirit of God came upon
him (1 Sam 16:14), as it does again in chapter 19. Between these two stories,
we see that Yahweh was with David, but had left Saul,
(1 Sam 18:12). The conversation between Saul and the ghost of Samuel picks
up on this: Saul says that God has left him, , and Samuel
conrms, ( 28:1516). Saul cannot hear from Yahweh on his
own, or through other direct divinatory methods. The one who successfully
58. Contra Fischer, who sees the whole as a cautionary tale with Deut 18:914 in the
background, i.e., the king engages in a forbidden practice, and so the upcoming
battle goes badly for him (Gottesknderinnen, 147, 150, 154).
provides the king with access to Yahwehs message is the necromancer, but
the story makes no comment on this fact. The main conict in the story
is not about necromancy; that is much more the conict for interpreters.
Sauls recourse to a medium lends irony to the story, but assigns no guilt.
The main conict, the thing that gives the text its dramatic power, is that
Saul cannot access divine knowledge, and it is resolved when the medium
can, and Saul hears Yahwehs message through the ghost mediated by the
necromancer.
Divergent Traditions
The story of the medium in 1 Samuel displays Sauls many faultshis
weakness and fear as a leader, his melodramatic wretchedness, and most of
all his inability to hear Godbut it does not include condemnation of the
act of necromancy it describes. This, on the contrary, is the method through
which God nally does answer Saul. Saul looks bad here, but the necro-
mancer comes o well.
The Chronicler has a dierent take on this: all of a sudden, one of
Sauls two major transgressions is consulting the necromancer. The story of
the encounter itself is skipped, since the Chronicler is not concerned with
Sauls life, but he makes reference to it and in fact attributes Sauls death
partly to this incident (1 Chr 10:1314). The author of the Samuel text pre-
sents the necromancer as successful, as the one who nally provides access
to divine knowledge, and shows her overall in a remarkably positive light.
The Chronicler then comes along and makes a necessary adjustment (for
his ideology), demonstrating a concern with judging this type of divination
that the author of Samuel does not. Given the Chroniclers perspective, it is
not surprising that a kings consultation of a necromancer would suddenly
be depicted so negatively in his retelling. What is more noteworthy is that
reading the story in Samuel alongside Chronicles throws into relief the ex-
tent to which the earlier text is unconcerned with condemning the diviner.
59. For another approach leading to a similar conclusion, see the rhetorical analysis
of Fritschel, who questions whether references to various forms of magic are
pejorative in a selection of ten texts. As she notes concisely in regard to the
story of the necromancer, That her actions are not denounced demonstrates
that the function of this text is not to denounce magic (Women and Magic in
the Hebrew Bible, 198).
60. For further discussion, see Hamori, The Prophet and the Necromancer:
Womens Divination for Kings, 82743.
Wise women in the Hebrew Bible have not been identied as having
a divinatory role. Some of the wise men of the Bible are associated with
divination, however, and wise women attested elsewhere in the regiones-
pecially the titled wise women of Hittite literatureexplicitly function as
diviners. The issue at hand is to consider whether the wise women in the
stories of 2 Samuel 14 and 20 reect any type of divinatory role, as these
other wise men and wise women do.
Wise Men
The range of depictions of wise men in the Bible extends far beyond
what is pertinent here. In addition to the concept of the wise as exempli-
ed in the wisdom literature, there are skilled craftsmen or artisans (for ex-
ample, Exod 28:3; Isa 40:20; 2 Chr 2:6 [Eng. 2:7]), as well as heads of tribes
who are designated to be leaders to assist Moses (Deut 1:15).
The wise men relevant here are specically those associated with
divination. In the majority of cases, these men hold ocial positions, and
they are generally mentioned in conjunction with other court gures. For
example, when the Pharaoh needs a dream interpreter, he calls his wise
men and his magicians (-- --, Gen 41:8);
then, where they fail, Joseph the diviner par excellence succeeds. When
another Pharaoh needs some solid magic to combat that of Moses and
Aaron, he summons the wise men, this time paired with the sorcerers
131
One of the types of wise men we see in biblical texts, then, is a person
associated with divinatory knowledge. In some cases, this appears to be a
particular role in a foreign courtas Jeers denes them, a professional
class of wise magicians. In other cases, the term encompasses a range
of roles associated with sorcery and divination, as when various groups of
specialists are together called wise men. Finally, there are the wise men
of Israel who are mentioned in parallel with other diviners, such as prophets
and seers. As a whole, the relevant group exhibits a range of overlapping
functions, including those of counselor, diviner, magician, and speaker of
words of wisdom, each associated in the above texts with special knowl-
edge. Jeers connects the various functions of the under the umbrella
of counsellor, and suggests that divining abilities are understood as part
of a counsellors functions. As another way to reect their various inter-
secting abilities, perhaps we might think of the as those skilled in the
arts of knowledge.
and alongside other diviners, providing their services to the royal family as
well as to other citizens.
The wise women can be seen acting in their capacity as diviners, for
example, in The Bilingual Edict of Hattuili I. Hattuilis reign was appar-
ently full of familial opposition and intrigue, and in this text, the king rails
against one of his sons (Labarna) and defends his decision to disinherit
him, and promotes another son (Murili) as his heir. Toward the end of the
Edict, Hattuilis courtiers tell the king what the queen, Hatayar, has been
up to in the midst of all of the hullabaloo: She now still keeps on con-
sulting the Old Women. Although the MUNUSU.GI is known for both
sorcery and divination, the womens activity in this text is clearly divinatory
and, as Mouton observes, has no obvious connection to sorcery at all.
One peculiarity of the outdated approach according to which divina-
tion was considered magical (as opposed to prophecy, which was consid-
ered religious) is that the demonstration of divinatory insight and the
performance of magical feats do not actually go hand in hand very fre-
quently among the religious specialists of the Hebrew Bible. Elijah and
Elisha exhibit this overlap, for instance, but throughout the biblical mate-
rial, the intersection of these roles seems to be the exception rather than
the norm. It is striking, then, that we do see this combination of divinatory
ability and the performance of magical feats among the (relevant type of )
wise men of the Bible, as we do among the Hittite wise women. In both
cases, the functions overlap but are not identical: the gures are known for
both areas of activity but can engage in them separately.
12. Alster, Dumuzis Dream, 55, li. 2425. On umma, see n.7 above. This text, in
which Getinanna is just a girl, is an excellent example of the ETCSLs rationale
for translating the term as wise woman.
13. Translated on ETCSL as wise woman, rather than experienced woman, in
this case.
14. As translated in CAD B 112 s.v. brtu; cf. C. J. Mullo-Weir, Four Hymns to
Gula, 15, 17.
15. Lambert and Millard, Atra-Hass: The Babylonian Story of the Flood.
16. For example, by Coogan in his translation of Aqhat (Stories from Ancient Ca-
naan, 3435). For comparison, in Parkers translation of Aqhat, they are simply
the Katharat (Ugaritic Narrative Poetry, 5657).
ones. The ktrt appear for instance in Aqhat (KTU 1.17 II 2440), where
they seem to inspire a rousing change in Danil, who can then impregnate
his wife. Their role as conception deities is evident again in KTU 1.24, a
poem telling of the marriage of the deities Yarikh and Nikkal-Ib. If the
role of the ktrt as goddesses of conception overlaps at all with activity usu-
ally associated with divination (and this is an if with a very light touch),
it might be found in one provocative line of this poem. Lines 56 begin an
address, To the Katharat, and then it is not entirely clear who speaks the
words of line 7, but it is presumably they: Behold, the young woman shall
give birth to a child (hl glmt tld b[n . . .]). It would be interesting if their
functions as birth goddesses included announcements of future births.
Evidently, references to the wisdom or skill of a goddess (wise Mami
and the ktrt) may relate to conception in some Mesopotamian and Uga-
ritic contexts. At the same time, in the cases above where wise woman
is actually used as an epithetfor Getinanna and Nane in their roles as
dream interpreters, and for Gula in her role as diviner and exorcistit is
explicitly related to divinatory skill (and in the latter case, also to sorcery).
These terms are by no means uniform, even within a given body of litera-
ture, let alone across cultures. Divination and sorcery are functions of some
wise men in Israelite literature and not others; the Hittite MUNUSU.GI
17. For a summary of disagreement over the meaning of the epithet, and for bibli-
ography, see Pardee, Kosharoth, 49192; and see discussion and bibliography
in Marsman, Women in Ugarit and Israel, 21416. For a dierent approach, see
Ginsberg, who argued that they were human (Women Singers and Wailers
Among the Northern Canaanites, 1315).
18. Els blessing of Danil points to Danils impotence as the cause of his lack of an
heir (KTU 1.17 I 3637). Then Danil makes seven days of sacrices to the Katha-
rat (II 2440), after which we hear of the joy of the bed (II 4142) and the
counting of months.
19. The Betrothal of Yarikh and Nikkal-Ib, translated by David Marcus, in Parker,
Ugaritic Narrative Poetry, 21518. The ktrt are also mentioned in KTU 1.11 (A
Birth, translated by Parker, in Parker, Ugaritic Narrative Poetry, 18687), but the
text is too fragmentary to draw any further conclusions about their activity.
20. As translated by Marcus (minus punctuation); as Marcus notes, the similarity to
Isa 7:14 is obvious (in Parker, Ugaritic Narrative Poetry, 218 n.1).
21. On birth oracles as divinatory activity, see Hamori, Heavenly Bodies: Preg-
nancy and Birth Omens in Israel, 47999.
22. It is also possible that the Hittite reading of MUNUSU.GI, haawa (or for
Frantz-Szabo, haawa-), may be a play on the word for midwife. Hass and
Thiel, Die Beschwrungsrituale der Allaiturah(h)i und verwandte Texte, 22.
certainly specializes in these skills, but may perform them quite separately
(an expiation ritual here, divinatory inquiry there). It is not that the epithet
wise woman must carry a connotation of a divinatory function, but that, as
seen in these examples across a range of Near Eastern literature, it at times
has this sense, just as wise man within the Hebrew Bible does. On to the
wise woman within the Bible itself, then.
23. The eeting poetic mention in Judg 5:29 probably does not refer to anything
relevant here. While it would be nice to see the mother of Sisera consulting
wise women (or sing., with several versions and manuscripts) like the Hittite
queen Hatayar in The Bilingual Edict of Hattuili I, the phrase does not really
support such a reading. Perhaps the better comparison, though further aeld,
would be to the wise men who are the personal advisors of Haman. While the
kings wise men are royal legal advisors (Esth 1:13), Haman has his own wise
men who advise him more generally on how to deal with Mordechai (6:13).
24. Fontaines conclusion is optimistic: That she listens to Joab as he puts words
in her mouth is a sign of her wisdom, not some foolishnessthe tradition is
clear that a wise person listens to a variety of viewpoints, accounts and opinions
before making a decision and putting it into action verbally (Smooth Words:
Women, Proverbs and Performance in Biblical Wisdom, 192). Others draw the op-
posite conclusion: A. A. Anderson, for example, sees her as something of a pup-
pet (2 Samuel, 187). Surely there is a reasonable middle ground.
25. It has occasionally been suggested that she is an expert in lamentation, but this
does not t the context. McCarter, in arguing against that notion, momentarily
seems to suggest that she is indeed there just to recite lines: Joab is in need of
an actress, not a professional mourner. Just before this, however, he observes
that the term wise woman may express itself in a variety of skills and talents,
most characteristically in an ability to use speech to achieve desired results
(2 Samuel, 345).
26. This one is a bit darker, what with that poor rst gentleman who declines to
beat on the prophet, only to be doomed to immediate death by lion. (Ahab,
who goes away sullen and vexed, as the NASB charmingly puts it, should be
relieved in comparison.)
very story, and from the wise womans own mouth, we see a view of as
privileged divine knowledge.
In the second story, the encounter is between a wise woman and Joab
himself. Joab, having previously brought in a wise woman to rebuke David
for being too hard on Absalom, has recently rebuked David for being too
grieved for his son (2 Sam 19:28 [Eng. 17]). Then, during the chaos fol-
lowing Absaloms death, one Sheba ben Bichri appears on the scene and
rallies all Israel to follow him instead of David (2 Sam 20:12). Joab and
his men pursue Sheba, who ees into the city of Abel, and they start at-
tacking the wall. Just then, a wise woman calls down to the people: Listen,
listen! Say to Joab, Come here, so I can speak to you (2 Sam 20:16). It is
implicit that the people comply; Joab approaches, the wise woman tells him
to listen, and Joab replies, I am listening (20:17).
Let us remember that at this moment, Joab is trying to defeat an en-
emy who until recently had all Israel abandoning David to follow him.
The situation is a bit urgent. Joabs only reason to stop and listen to the
wise woman is if he sees her as having the authority to get him what he
wants. Joabs men assume she has this authority, just as Joab does: she calls
down to them and says, Get me Joab, and they do; she wants him to ap-
proach, he approaches. The wise woman begins to speak to Joab: They
used to say in olden times: Let them inquire at Abel, and thus they would
be done with it ( ,
20:18). Her city has long been known, she says, as a place for authoritative
oracular inquiry. This does not explicitly tell us who the woman is, but we
now have three pieces of information to t together: she is called a wise
woman, she is portrayed as having authority, and all this in a city known
specically for authoritative oracular inquiry.
She continues her rebuke of Joab for attacking such a place: I am
among the peaceable and faithful of Israel; you are seeking to kill o a city
and a mother in Israel! Why would you swallow up the heritage of Yah-
weh? (20:19). The rst claim is straightforward; the last claim, regarding
27. McCarter observes another reversal here: in the rst story, Joab told the
wise woman what to do; in this story, the wise woman tells Joab what to do
(2 Samuel, 431).
28. Or so it says; as McCarter points out, the rest of the story makes all Israel
seem something of an exaggeration. Soon afterward, as he observes, all Israel
seems to have gone home (2 Samuel, 431).
29. See ibid., 42829, on the diculties of this verse.
the heritage of Yahweh, may refer either to Abel as the seat of oracular
inquiry or to the womans role in it (or perhaps both).
In between, we come to the only use of the phrase a mother in Is-
rael outside of the song of Deborah and Barak. In the present context,
the phrase is usually understood to refer to the city of Abel itself. Since
the phrasing straightforwardly indicates two separate entities, a city and
a mother in Israel () , explaining it as a hendiadys for the
city takes some doing. First, it requires a lack of recognition of mother in
Israel even as a potential title for the female character speaking. Second, it
depends on a peculiar reading of the phrase itself. The image of a mother
city is interpreted by analogy with the few references to cities and their
smaller daughter villages ( Josh 15:45; Judg 11:26). However, the cities in
those texts are not called mothers, and there is no sense in this text of
describing cities and villages in relation to one other.
In addition, if there were no reference to a human being, the use of
would be rather odd. If the mother in Israel were not a person, then
in the sentence several unusual things
would be happening at once. The verb , to kill, would somehow take
two inanimate objects (to kill a city, a mother-town). In this scenario,
rst the word must be read as a reference to the people of the city
(cf. 1 Sam 5:12), then the mother in Israel must be read as an unprecedented
way of describing a city, and nally the two terms must be read in hendiadys.
This seems awfully convoluted. More realistically, because the verb
is doing double duty, its rst object either could be inanimate (to destroy
a city and kill a mother in Israel) or could represent the people (to kill o
a city, and a mother in Israel). Either way, the simplest explanation is that
the woman, who has already just been talking about herself (I am among
the peaceable and faithful), then refers to herself as a mother in Israel.
On the basis of this text alone, the phrase should be under-
stood to refer to the wise woman. The additional use of the same phrase to
30. Ackerman and Camp both address a possible relationship between the
references of the two wise women (14:16, 20:19). Ackerman, Warrior, Dancer,
Seductress, Queen, 40; Camp, The Wise Women of 2 Samuel, 29.
31. For example, McCarter translates, Youre trying to destroy one of Israels
mother cities! (2 Samuel, 426, 430); Hertzberg translates, you seek to kill a city
which is a mother in Israel (1 and 2 Samuel, 370, 373). Even Camp, writing on
the wise women, sees the city as the mother (The Wise Women of 2 Samuel,
2728). Ackerman, on the other hand, understands to refer to both
the city and the woman (Warrior, Dancer, Seductress, Queen, 3941).
32. Ackerman also sees the military connection as a signicant element of the
mother in Israel role, partly on the basis of the military context of Judg 5
(Warrior, Dancer, Seductress, Queen, 3843).
33. McCarter, 2 Samuel, 426, 429.
34. Ackerman, Warrior, Dancer, Seductress, Queen, 40.
35. That is, with attention to their identity: Wesselius is interested in the literary re-
lationship between the two wise woman passages, and what they might tell us
women both speak with authority, and compares them to royal advisors,
but she then suggests that the womens wise speech is reected specically
in the fact that each woman at some point utters a proverb (2 Sam 14:14,
20:18). This is a problematic comparison, since the two phrases in ques-
tion are dierent sorts of proverbs used for dierent purposesthat is, if
14:14 contains a proverb at all, rather than just a poetic analogy (we are like
water . . .). In the opening oracle of Second Isaiah, is the prophets asser-
tion that all esh is grass a proverb (Isa 40:6)? I am inclined to think not.
However, even if one accepts that we are like water is a type of proverbial
language, the functions of the phrases in 14:14 and 20:18 are too dissimilar to
warrant identifying them as the common element of these womens speech.
This problem is then reected in Camps conclusion. Focusing on what she
sees as a shared use of language, a diculty remains for her in establish-
ing what the two womens shared role would be. She concludes: The wise
women of Tekoa and Abel, then, appear in situations in which they act in a
manner associated with a prophet and a military leader, respectively, while
using forms of language associated with the wisdom tradition. By this
about Davidnot about the wise women (De wijze vrouwen in 2 Samul 14 en
20, 89100). Occasional sustained treatments of one woman or the other also
do not address the matter of role relevant here. In his book on the parable of the
wise woman of Tekoa, Lyke is interested in various aspects of the proverb, and
not the role of the woman herself, except to the extent that he thinks we cannot
know much about it (King David with the Wise Woman of Tekoa, 21). A. Brenner
briey discusses these two women, concluding that they belong to a specic
institutionthat of wise women. These women are clever, articulate, involved
in the political life of the communityin short, they enjoy a status similar to
that of an elder, or a wise man (The Israelite Woman, 3438, quotation 38).
36. Camp, The Wise Women of 2 Samuel, 1720.
37. Camp acknowledges that there is a dierence, but defends her identication of
14:14 as a proverb (ibid., 20).
38. Ibid., 24. Fontaine follows Camp in focusing on the womens wise speech,
but seems to see the wise women here, and even in the Hittite texts, essentially
as local den mothers. She extrapolates: wives and mothers known for their
common-sense teachings and ability to resolve conicts might be drafted into
the service of their neighborhoods, towns or cities. Such women are found in
2 Samuel as wise women, and their sisters are well attested among the Hit-
tites. She pictures this as a phenomenon somewhat broader and clearer than
what is represented in the biblical texts: One of the most critical features of
Israels wise women was, once again, their excellent and timely use of language
analysis, their common trait is the use of some type of proverb, in some con-
text, for some purpose, but in totally dierent roles. In a later essay, Camp
attempts to align these roles more, arguing that these women, especially
she of Abel, seem to be doing what we would expect elders to do, in par-
ticular, representing their people in national political-military situations.
It is not clear, however, in what way the wise woman of Tekoa is either rep-
resenting her people or serving a military function. Camps recognition of
the authoritative speech of the two wise women is signicant, but this does
not yet explain what role the women actually have in common.
What then are the unifying features in the depictions of the two
women? To begin from the beginning: each character is introduced as a
wise woman. These are generally taken as simple descriptions of women
who happened to be wise, often referred to in the literature as the woman
of Tekoa and the woman of Abel, as if the narrators might just as eas-
ily have mentioned Beatrice from Schenectady, who was wise, and later,
Estelle of Forest Hills, a clever woman. Instead, the two women are both
called by a specic epithet. The sense of wise woman ( ) as a
title is highlighted when seen in contrast with an actual simple descriptive
phrase: compare Abigail, who is described in 1 Samuel 25:3 as an intelligent
woman (- ) and does not serve a particular social function.
In 2 Samuel 14 and 20, the wise women are introduced by their titleand
by their title aloneand in each case, the wise woman is in the story
because she is serving a specic social function. Based on the presence of
in the resolution of conicts (2 Sam. 14, 20). . . . What began as womens wisdom
in the world of the home has clearly gone public, to the good of all (Fontaine,
Smooth Words, 65).
39. Camp, The Female Sage in Ancient Israel and in the Biblical Wisdom Litera-
ture, 189.
40. Contra Schroer, who observes in regard to the women of 2 Sam that In both
cases, the wise woman looks like a signier of status or ocial position, but
then includes Abigail and Judith within the same subcategory, before moving
on to discuss counseling mothers and wives (Wise and Counselling Women in
Ancient Israel, 7172).
41. As Camp observes, the author, at least, seems to have expected the audience to
have a framework to understand such a gure (The Wise Women of 2 Sam-
uel, 17). Camp goes further, though, arguing that the audience would recognize
the wise woman both as a culturally stereotyped character and as a reection
of a historical political role.
42. The removal of titlesor at least the lack of recognition and use of titlesis
an interesting thing. It is similarly common to see references to the woman of
En-dor, even though she is introduced as an - and only happens
to live in En-dor, whereas one does not generally see references to unnamed
men of God as the man of Shiloh (1 Sam 2:2736) or the man of Judah
(1 Kgs 13:110). Peculiar.
The two roles are not necessarily identical. (The roles of all titled
prophets are not identical either.) With one story about each of two wise
women, one under assault at home in her city and the other brought tempo-
rarily to Jerusalem to serve a particular function there, there is not adequate
data on which to judge the precise relationship between the two roles.
At a minimum, both stories tell of gures titled wise women who
have specialized roles; both texts portray gures with recognized authority,
as demonstrated by each womans activity and conrmed by each womans
reception within the story; and both of these authoritative specialized
roles are related to divinatory speech, as one wise woman uses the specic
rhetorical approach recognizable from the speech of the prophet just two
chapters earlier, and the other explicitly associates herself with the speech
of divinatory experts.
To my knowledge, it has not been recognized that the wise womens
shared role is associated with divinatory speech. Even if little more can be
determined about the exact nature of their roles, the wise womens associa-
tion with divination should be recognized on the basis of these texts alone,
and then all the more so in light of the presence elsewhere of wise men and
wise women who function as divinatory experts.
This is the only story in the Hebrew Bible of a titled who delivers
a classic prophetic oracle. Many have seen in the uniqueness of the story
an indication of either the lack or marginalization of female prophets.
However, there is nothing in the text to suggest that there was anything
remarkable about the king consulting a female prophet in general, or that
the narrator had any interest in the gender of this female prophet in par-
ticular. On the contrary, what is remarkable is that Huldah is remembered
straightforwardly as the prophet of Yahweh who delivers the pivotal oracle
to Josiahin spite of the fact that she gets it wrong.
Huldah of Jerusalem
Crisis has come to the temple. A scroll has been uncovered, its con-
tents found to have been woefully neglected, and Josiah needs to con-
sult a diviner. It is in this context that we meet Huldah. Those looking
for signs of Huldahs marginalization in the brevity of her introduction
search in vain. In the balance, we know more about Huldah than we
1. I will include a few key examples, but readers may refer to the thorough work
on the history of gender-related interpretation of Huldah by Handy, Reading
Huldah as Being a Woman, 544.
2. While less common, the logic of looking for armation here is just as prob-
lematic. Weems argues that it is precisely the lack of information oered that
brings such attention to Huldah: The less we are allowed to know about the
woman prophet, the larger she looms in both the narrative and in the readers
imagination (Huldah, the Prophet: Reading a [Deuteronomistic] Womans
Identity, 324).
148
do about some male prophets, and less than we do about others. She is
identied by her husbands name, just as a man would be identied by his
fathers name. The additional details regarding her husbands occupation
and family line are there to provide more identifying information about
Huldah, as such things went in those days. Similarly, rather than nam-
ing Huldahs town of origin, the narrator says where she lives currently.
The author gives the information relevant for the story, with the nice
additional detail of her particular neighborhood: she lived in Jerusalem,
in the Mishneh.
Several major translations present Huldahs identication through her
husband as the primary point, and render the statement about where she
lives as parenthetical (for example, NASB, NKJV, ASV). This is not the
perspective of the text. The statement about where she lives is an indepen-
dent clause and uses the feminine singular ( ,
2 Kgs 22:14). It is not that Josiahs men went to Huldah the prophet, the
wife of Shallum ben Tikvah ben Harhas, the wardrobe keeper (who lived
in Jerusalem in the Mishneh), but rather that they went to Huldah the
prophet, the wife of Shallum ben Tikvah ben Harhas, the wardrobe keeper.
She lived in Jerusalem, in the Mishneh.
This is a minor point, but for those concerned that Huldah is short-
changed in her introduction, it is a distinction worth observing. This is a
succinct example of the complex interplay between the gendering of the
text and of the characters by the Israelite tradition on the one hand (Hul-
dah is indeed identied through her husband), and by modern interpreters
on the other (there is no good textual reason to render the independent
clause describing Huldah as subordinate to the appositional phrase identi-
fying her husband).
There are also those concerned that the overall presentation of Huldah
marginalizes women. In her article on the construction of female proph-
ets, Fuchs has observed that we do not see any of the female prophets
discourses with Yahweh. She concludes that The narratorial ambivalence
toward womens prophetic function is exposed in the suppression of the
possibility of a female dialogue with yhwh, and notes that a may
be shown to use the messenger formula, or a variation thereof, but there
is no objective narratorial conrmation of the event. While the formula
yhwh spoke to Moses or God spoke to Jeremiah appears frequently,
this formula does not appear in the context of female prophecy. This
distinction between the prophets use of the messenger formula and the
narrators presentation of Yahwehs message is overemphasized. Deborah,
for instance, proclaims what Yahweh has told her, speaking for Yahweh
using the prophetic rst person ( Judg 4:67); this and her other procla-
mations about what Yahweh is doing and will do (4:9, 14) are conrmed
by the narrator throughout the story. Equally, there are texts in which
male prophets proclaim messages from Yahweh that the reader is see-
ing for the rst time. Huldah uses the formulaic phrase ,
thus says Yahweh, three times in ve verses, in addition to an inserted
-, the oracle of Yahweh! Her language reects an assumption of
prophetic authority in both form and content, and the narrator presents
her as authoritative.
Others, meanwhile, have seen Huldah presented as authoritative spe-
cically as a woman. Butting and Fischer, for example, both emphasize the
importance of the placement of Deborah and Huldah as the rst and last
prophets of the redacted books of the Former Prophets. Butting views this
framing as a reection of womens prophetic authority, and specically as
it relates to Torah; she thus sees Huldahs role as the prophetic counter-
point to Torah as represented in the story. Fischer, again focused on the
question of how each female prophet is depicted in terms of Mosaic suc-
cession, sees the framing of the Former Prophets by Deborah and Huldah
as evidence that both women are presented as true prophets in the line
of Moses, and emphasizes that in this post-exilic framing, we actually see
the increased inuence of women in and upon scripture in the Persian
period, contrary to common assumptions. She reads Huldah in particular
as embodying the joining of prophecy and cult, making her an idealized
successor to Moses.
But as for the king of Judah, who sent you to inquire of Yahweh, say this to
him: Thus says Yahweh, the God of Israel: When you heard those words,
because your heart was softened and you humbled yourself before Yahweh
when you heard what I spoke against this place and its inhabitants, that it
would become a wasteland and a curse, and because you tore your clothes
and wept before me, I have indeed listenedthe oracle of Yahweh
Therefore I will gather you to your fathers, and you will be gathered to your
tomb in peace, and your eyes will not see all of the adversity that I bring
upon this place. (2 Kgs 22:1520)
The rst section of the oracle lays the blame fully with the people; the
second, longer section explains why Josiah is exempt. So there is some
sort of administrative process here whereby the king sends for divinatory
7. E.g., Fritz, who assumes an ocial position, writing that Huldah is the only
woman mentioned as the holder of this oce (1 & 2 Kings, 400). For a very dif-
ferent perspective, see Edelman, who argues that Huldah (if historical) would
have been a prophet of Asherah (Huldah the Prophetof Yahweh or Ashe-
rah? 248).
8. And in fact, the oracle does not do much beyond this. As Handy points out,
What is most noteworthy about this short speech by Huldah is how little it
actually says about anything . . . For a biblical speech from Yahweh, this is truly
vague (The Role of Huldah in Josiahs Cult Reform, 50).
consultation, the diviner in question bears the title , and her oracle un-
waveringly favors the king. The similarity to the pep-talking court prophets
of 1 Kings 22 and other texts is apparent. Then again, what dominates the
larger story is the Deuteronomists presentation of Josiah as the good king
who, in spite of his righteousness and his reform, is not able to save Judah
from itselfso perhaps it is just that Huldahs message suits the narrators
message.
9. Fischer thinks that Huldah is denitely not a court prophet, because the delega-
tion goes to her, rather than she to the court, and because she refers to Josiah not
as the king but as the one who sent you (Gottesknderinnen, 16364). These
suggestions strike me as reasonable but by no means conclusive.
10. Handy helpfully compares this to Mesopotamian literature in which kings are
apparently expected to consult diviners in order to double-check or conrm
previous cultic instructions from deities, and particularly to the cult restoration/
reform texts of Esarhaddon and Nabonidus (The Role of Huldah in Josiahs
Cult Reform, 4053).
they still must turn to a higher authority. Josiah concludes that divinatory
expertise is required, and he sends Hilkiah the high priest and Shaphan the
scribe (with their titles used repeatedly in the story) along with the kings
minister and two other men to inquire of Yahweh. It is only because each
of the other religious authorities is stumped that they seek out the diviner
who can consult Yahweh directly. This is not a presentation of a standard
procedure of double-checking with a prophet: it is a matter of turning to a
diviner who has access to divine knowledge that even the high priest and
his colleagues do not have.
The narrator thus attributes signicant divinatory authority to Huldah.
So, the men go to Huldah and she validates the scroll. The purpose of the
narrative is the authorization of the book, and it is Huldah who gives her
imprimatur. This also means, as is frequently observed, that Huldah is the
rst person to authorize a canonical text. It may be Josiahs reform, but it
is Huldahs canon.
Then again, as the story goes, the reform itself would not have hap-
pened without Huldahs oracle either. So far, all Josiah has done is rend his
clothes and send his men. It is only in response to Huldahs divination that
Josiah institutes the reform. He does not act on his own authority in re-
sponse to the scrollhe acts on hers. As the narrative presents it, if instead
of conrming all the words of the scroll which the king of Judah read, the
prophet had said, Thus says Yahweh: Dont worry so much about the scroll,
Josiah, there would have been no reform.
In spite of these many indications that Huldah had the same prophetic
authority we see in male characters in other texts, many interpreters have
questioned why Josiah would have consulted a woman. There is nothing
in the text to indicate that this was unusual, and enough record of female
prophets elsewhere, including in the roughly contemporary Neo-Assyrian
oracles, to indicate that it was not. That Huldah is a woman is a nonissue
11. E.g., Camp, Female Voice, Written Word: Women and Authority in Hebrew
Scripture, 100101; Eskenazi, ed., and Weiss, assoc. ed., The Torah: A Womens
Commentary, xxxviixxxviii; Swindler, In Search of Huldah, 1783. Bruegge-
mann holds precisely the opposite perspective: Clearly Huldah as a prophetess
has no autonomous function or voice, but is dependent on the Torah scroll and
is in its service (1 & 2 Kings, 54950). Although this is part of a longer section in
which Brueggemann argues that the passage sees temple, kingship, and proph-
ecy all as subordinate to Torah (pp. 54859), his stripping Huldah of all agency
is perhaps a bit extreme.
requires focusing on the tail end of the oracle, Your eyes will not see all of
the harm I am bringing upon this place (v. 20b), and pointing out that be-
cause Josiah dies, technically Huldah is correct. As interesting and creative
as this interpretation may be, it works very hard to circumvent the plain
meaning of the text. Huldah tells the king that because of his repentance
he will be gathered to his grave in peaceafter which he is promptly elimi-
nated. It seems awkwardly contrived to emphasize the technical accuracy of
the statement that Josiah will not see the coming disaster, while explaining
away the inaccuracy of the reassuring promise on which this rests. Various
interpretations have also been oered of what it means to be gathered to
your graveor better but less poetically tombbut whatever is done
with the rest of the oracle, it is not possible to get around the in peace.
It would appear that some of these explanations betray more interest
in verifying Huldahs oracle than in judging the plain sense of the text.
In some cases, scholars have overtly defended Huldahs status as a true
prophet. Naturally, other scholars have attributed the inconsistency be-
tween Huldahs mistaken prophecy and the texts silence about it to com-
posite sources.
However, the Deuteronomist is at no point concerned with this dis-
crepancy. In a story overtly concerned with correct religious practiceas
seen in both the rst half of Huldahs oracle and in Josiahs reformthe
Deuteronomist has no problem with the fact that the second half of Hul-
dahs prophecy to Josiah is dead wrong.
This is neatly xed in Chronicles. The Chronicler evidently sees the
problem and adjusts as necessary. The Kings version, which takes up all
of one verse, says only that Neco went to ght the king of Assyria at the
Euphrates, Josiah went out to engage him, and when Neco saw him he
killed him at Megiddo (2 Kgs 23:29). The story in Chronicles is far more
detailed, and elaborately excuses Huldahs incorrect prophecy. Essentially
as in Kings, Neco went up to ght at Carchemish on the Euphrates, and
Josiah went out to engage him, but here we deviate from the earlier story.
Neco sends messengers to Josiah to say: What have I to do with you, King
of Judah? I am not against you today, but against the kingdom with which
I am at war, and God has ordered me to hurry! Stop impeding God, who is
with me, that he may not destroy you! (2 Chr 35:21). The Chronicler then
explains that Josiah would not go away, but went to ght Neco anyway, and
did not listen to the words of Neco from the mouth of God (2 Chr 35:22).
Necos archers shoot Josiah, he is mortally wounded, and tells his men to
get him out of there. (This is a little reminiscent of the story of Sauls death,
but must have been a common enough scenario.) Josiahs servants get him
out of his chariot and into another (unless his chariot was damaged in
battle, this is presumably to disguise his movements), and they bring him
to Jerusalem, where, the Chronicler writes, he died and was buried in the
tomb of his fathers (2 Chr 35:24). Huldahs incorrect oracleI will gather
you to your fathers and you will be gathered to your tomb in peacehas
been explained away. Josiah had the chance to avoid battle and to die in
peace, just as Huldah said he wouldonly he did not listen to the words of
God through Neco.
The Chronicler makes one other key adjustment as well: all of a sud-
den, Huldah no longer has a role in instigating the reform. In Kings, the
17. One implication of this, of course, is that the oracle is presumably from before
Josiahs violent death, i.e., predating its falsication. See, e.g., Cogan and Tad-
mor, II Kings, 284, and Halpern, Why Manasseh Is Blamed for the Babylonian
Exile, 501.
18. Oddly, as opposed to the other way around (the words of God from the mouth
of Neco).
19. These two key changes in Chronicles are mentioned also, in dierent ways, by
Fischer, Gottesknderinnen, 17778, and Gafney, Daughters of Miriam, 96, 101.
entire story takes place in the eighteenth year of Josiahs reign, when the
king is twenty-six years old. The scroll is found and read to him, he sends his
men to consult Huldah, and in response to her oracle, he institutes reform.
In Chronicles, Josiah has already begun his reform many years earlier. In
the eighth year of his reign, he began to seek God () ,
and in the twelfth year, he began to purge Judah and Jerusalem (2 Chr 34:3).
The implication is either that Josiah sought God in some general sense or
that he inquired of God through other prophets. Either way, the author-
ity in having the divine knowledge to spark the reform is taken away from
Huldah and given to Josiah or to other prophets.
This is not a matter of scribal error concerning the numbers eight and
eighteen; the text species that this happened in the eighth year of Josiahs
reign, while he was still a youth, and then, as in Kings, dates the nding
of the scroll and the prophecy of Huldah to the eighteenth year. The text is
rather heavy-handed with this emphasis on the order of events: in the eigh-
teenth year of his reign, after purging the land and the temple, he sent some
of his men to do temple repair. Then the scroll is found, and the king sends his
men to consult the prophet. This section of the story is very close to the one
in Kings. After this, Josiah renews the covenantwhich of course cannot
happen before the nding of the scrolland then there is one pointedly brief
statement that Josiah removed all of the abominations from the whole land
of the Israelites, and made all who were present in Israel serve Yahweh their
God (2 Chr 34:33). This is followed by a section on reinstituting Passover.
20. Minor changes include the detail of the nding of the scroll, names, and a
last phrase attached to the end of Huldahs oracle, which now refers to all
of the harm Yahweh will bring upon this place and upon its inhabitants
(2 Chr 34:28). It is interesting to note that one of the changes in this version is
the absence of Achbor. In 2 Kgs, many of the names are those of similar types of
animals: Huldah (rat), Achbor (mouse), and Shaphan (rock badger). Although
I would certainly not argue that this is a folktale, the coincidence (?) of names
rings of the genre: Rat, Mouse, and Badger Instruct the King. It is just con-
ceivable that the Chronicler reacted to the folktale feel of the story, could not
change the name of Huldah, and perhaps not that of Shaphan, who also appears
as the grandfather of Gedaliah (2 Kgs 25:22, though if this were really the case
one would expect him to be named as such in Chronicles as well), but could at
least lose Achbor. This is wildly speculative, of course, but I nd the possibility
charming. (Additionally, all three animals are mentioned in Lev 11: in 11:5,
and and in immediate succession in 11:29.)
Had the Chroniclers only major change been that Huldahs oracle
does not spark the reform, this might by itself raise the possibility of a
negative view of Huldah. However, the rst major change, which explains
away Huldahs error, makes this interpretation improbable. The Chronicler
clearly has a vested interest in cleaning up the prophets record. Now, it is
odd that in the execution of this, the Chronicler presents Neco as having
more divine knowledge than Huldah, or at least updated information. But
it is just as striking that Neco has more divine knowledge than Josiah.
Since we would clearly be wrong to take from this that the Chronicler had
a negative view of Josiah, we equally should not assume that this reects a
negative view of Huldah. Rather, the Chronicler provides an explanation
for what would otherwise be inaccurate prophecy. The transfer of credit for
instigating the reform from Huldah to Josiah, then, does not reect the
Chroniclers interest in diminishing Huldah, but in promoting Josiah.
This was perhaps especially desirable as a countermeasure to the now-
necessary story of Josiah dying because he did not heed the word of God
on the battleeld. The new story of Josiahs violent death does not negate
the Chroniclers overall armation of Josiah. It is typical of Chronicles to
provide some account of wrongdoing to explain a mysterious misfortune,
and the death of a righteous king would be an obvious candidate for such
an addition. It is not necessary to posit that the Chroniclers sole interest
in the battleeld insertion was in redeeming Huldahs image, instead of
in explaining tragedy through sin. After all, other prophets with undis-
puted standing made errors as well. Rather, we may note that the specic
way in which the Chronicler explains righteous Josiahs violent death is
through providing a second, alternate prophecy. Lest it be unclear to his
readers that this is what is happening, the Chronicler spells this out: Josiah
did not listen to the words of Neco from the mouth of God (2 Chr 35:22).
So one impetus for the addition may be the Chroniclers abiding inter-
est in providing cause for otherwise inexplicable tragedy, but the cause he
provides demonstrates his recognitionand smoothing overof Huldahs
mistake.
21. For other ideas on how the sequence of events might relate to Huldahs role
in the reform in Chronicles, see David A. Glatt-Gilad, The Role of Huldahs
Prophecy in the Chroniclers Portrayal of Josiahs Reform, 1631.
22. On this theme, see Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and Its Place in
Biblical Thought, 15076, esp. 16568.
1. The form (-PN) is the same as that found on many seals, bullae, jar handles,
etc.; whether here this means Concerning Maher, For Maher, or Belonging
to Maher, etc., is open to interpretation. A summary discussion of possibilities
is available in Clements, Isaiah 139, 94.
2. Jensen, Isaiah 139, 101; Ackerman, Isaiah, 173. The implication that the
is not really a prophet is evident also where her title is kept in quotation marks
(the prophetess): Sweeney, Isaiah 139, 167.
3. Wildberger, Isaiah 112, 337, and further bibliography therein; see esp. Jepsen,
Die Nebiah in Jes 8, 3, 26768.
160
4. Fuchs, for example, reads the as a sexual object and reproductive object,
and summarizes: The female prophetic word is replaced and displaced by the
female body (Prophecy and the Construction of Women, 65).
5. The tablet should be large presumably because it was for public display, as noted
by Wildberger, Isaiah 112, 33435; Kaiser, Isaiah 112, 180; and Blenkinsopp, Isa-
iah 139, 23738. For discussion of divergent understandings of the tablet and
stylus, see Clements, Isaiah 139, 94, and Wildberger, Isaiah 112, 33032.
calls upon witnesses, and later Yahweh tells him what to name the child.
These details tell of the role of Isaiah, the childs father. However, the verse
attributing agency to the , the childs mother, is not parenthetical. He
went; she conceived; she gave birth. The story is overtly one of prophetic
symbolic action, and, not to put too ne a point on it, most of this action
is hers.
But in the ancient Israelite context, would not this still be viewed as
Isaiahs action? It is not so clear. Ordinarily, perhapscompare the case
of Gomer, discussed shortlybut two factors indicate that this is not so.
First, we are told exactly one thing about the woman in this story about a
prophetic sign-act: she is a prophet. Second, we have stories demonstrat-
ing that women were known to have agency in conception, and not just
to be passive vessels, as is sometimes the caricature of ancient perspectives
(consider Rachel, Leah, and the mandrakes; Gen 30). Should our default
assumption be that the prophet who conceives and bears the sign-child
in Isaiah 8:3 has agency or not? She is referred to as a ;there is no
indication that the title here is an exception, being suddenly meaningless;
and she is instrumental in the enactment of the sign over a long period of
time (nine months; cf. Isaiahs three years of nakedness). This is not to say
that the action is all hers: both prophets participate in the sign-act. One
6. Isaiahs part is also specied: the verb should be understood with its sexual
connotation here, as in Lev 18:6, Deut 22:14, Ezek 18:6, and elsewhere.
7. Fischer briey discusses the text from a similar angle, observing that the female
prophet is an integral part of the symbolic action, and that the importance of the
action is stressed by the fact that both people involved are prophets (Gotteskn-
derinnen, 214, 21617). She is not sure Isaiah is the childs father, however, so it is
unclear exactly what his involvement would be (p. 197). Fischers focus, however,
is on identifying the Isa 8 prophet as a successor to the women who served at
the tent of meeting, whom she reads as cult prophets (pp. 96108, 191, 2056).
Gafney also has a sentence identifying the prediction, conception, gestation, and
delivery of the child as a joint prophetic undertaking between Isaiah and the
Woman-Prophet (Daughters of Miriam, 104). This does not appear to be cen-
tral to her understanding of the womans prophetic activity; she concludes, The
reasons for Isaiahs identication of this woman as a prophet are lost; yet one
may assume that Isaiah understood her to have an authentic prophetic vocation,
whether as an oracular poet, liturgical wordsmith, percussionist, or practitioner
of any of the other activities that fell under this rubric (p. 107). Butting, Fischer,
and Gafney all speculate that this woman reects possible female authorship at
some stage: Butting, that the woman herself may be responsible for some of the
prophetic parent carries and gives birth to the sign-child, and the other
receives the words about what he symbolizes.
Perhaps the elaboration of the sign-childs name provides a nice reec-
tion of this shared prophetic agency: For before the boy knows how to call
out, My father! or My mother! the wealth of Damascus and the spoil of
Samaria will be carried o before the king of Assyria (8:4). Out of context,
this would seem to mean only, while the boy is still talking baby talk. We
have just heard about this particular child and his particular parents, how-
ever; the image is of Maher calling out to his father and mother, to Isaiah
and the . While not signicant in itself, this casts a warm light on the
end of the story of the shared symbolic action of Isaiah and the .
The events of chapter 8 are part of a still broader series of symbolic
actions beginning in chapter 7. Maher is not the only sign-child in this
story. The rst is Isaiahs son Shear Yashuv. He has no birth story, but his
role as a prophetic symbol is evident in his name, in Yahwehs instruction
to Isaiah to bring him along to prophesy to Ahaz (Isa 7:3), and by analogy
with the other two sign-children in Isaiah 78. The sons symbolic function
is highlighted through his fathers oracle, which is marked by repeated ref-
erences to other men only as sonsthat is, he calls them only the son of
Remaliah (7:4, 5, 9) and the son of Tabeal (7:6). This is unusual, and four
such usages in a six-verse oracle are striking. Isaiah brings his son before the
king, and then refers to these men (though not Rezin) only as sons, with
the thrust of his message alluded to in the name of his own son by his side.
The juxtaposition of sons in the passage is pointed, and Isaiahs son Shear
Yashuv stands out as a potent sign.
The story of the second sign-child immediately follows. Ask for a sign
from Yahweh your god, says Yahweh to Ahaz (Isa 7:11). Upon the kings
refusal, Isaiah proclaims to the house of David, Therefore the Lord himself
will give you a sign: the young woman is pregnant, and she will give birth
to a son, and she will give him the name Immanu El (7:14). The sign is
not only the infant himself, but the pregnancy and the birth of the baby as
8. The verse can reasonably be interpreted to mean either that the woman is already
pregnant, reading the rst noun-adjective phrase in the present tense, or that she
will be pregnant, reading as if in the future, following the statement that Yahweh
will give a sign. The latter option might imply that the conception of the child
too is part of the sign.
9. Discussions of the range of views regarding whether Immanu El is Isaiahs son
and whether all three children have the same mother are available in count-
less commentaries; see e.g., Clements, who discusses various options, argues that
all three children are Isaiahs but are not necessarily born to the same woman,
but concludes that the is Isaiahs wife (Isaiah 139, 8082, 88); and Kaiser,
who address a range of categories of interpretations, and also notes that Jerome,
Rashi, and Ibn Ezra all saw Immanu El as Isaiahs son (Isaiah 112, 15172).
10. The fact that this is horribly disturbing is not the point here, but perhaps should
not go unmentioned. On a brighter note, it is intriguing that Yahweh speaks
directly to the children and tells them what to proclaim. Would that not consti-
tute prophetic activity on the part of the children?
11. Some have suggested that v. 19 is a later addition, but this is rooted partly in not
seeing a relationship between the comments on dierent types of divinatory
roles. On various possibilities, see Wildberger, Isaiah 112, 36465; Clements,
Isaiah 139, 101; and Kaiser, Isaiah 112, 200. Wildberger, for example, sees v. 19
as an addition, but vv. 1618 as well.
Hocus-Pocus or Divination?
Setting aside for the moment the oddity of Ezekiel introducing these
women as the daughters of your people who prophesy and then embark-
ing on a description of their activities that bears no resemblance to proph-
ecy, the immediate question is whether previous interpretations have really
been so far o the mark. If so few interpreters have understood the passage
as referring to necromancy, is it not more likely that they were reading more
straightforwardly, and that the present reading is a quirk?
167
The most common assumption has been that the women of Ezekiel 13
are, whether by this name or another, witches. They are read, for example,
as fortune-tellers engaged in hocus-pocus (Greenberg); as making black
magic (Hals); as performing minor mantic acts and magic (Zimmerli); as
women who deal in magic on the sly and insolent woman soothsayers
engaged in heathen demonism (Eichrodt); and as involved in the occult
(Blenkinsopp). These are not straightforward readings of the text, but over-
simplications that misrepresent the womens activity. Though magic and sor-
cery are complex categories, they function in this type of analysis as a gener-
alization. A notable exception is Nancy Bowen, who interprets the womens
activity as related to medical and ritual aspects of childbirth. Evidence for this
is lacking, though, since there are no references in the text to birth, pregnancy,
children, medical work, or healing, while there are references to divination.
Neither line of interpretationthat the women are doing hocus-pocus
or that they are childbirth specialistsis consistent with the literary con-
text of the oracle. This part of Ezekiel is focused on the condemnation of
what the prophet sees as false divination, and the oracle against women in
13:1723 is framed as a clear parallel to the oracle against false male prophets
in 13:116. Our assumption should be that the womens activity is divinatory,
and the burden would be on those who argue otherwise.
Just before this, in 12:2128, Ezekiel prophesies repeatedly that ev-
ery vision and word will be fullled, for there will no longer be any
empty vision or attering divination in the midst of the House of Israel
( - , Ezek 12:24). Many
of the key terms and phrases in this oracleempty visions, false divina-
tionsappear in various forms over and over again throughout chapter 13
as well.
1. Greenberg, Ezekiel 120, 240; Hals, Ezekiel, 8890; Zimmerli, Ezekiel 1, 296;
Eichrodt, Ezekiel, 169, 172; Blenkinsopp, Ezekiel, 70.
2. Bowen, The Daughters of Your People: Female Prophets in Ezekiel 13:1723,
41733; and again in Bowen, Ezekiel, 7173. Gafney follows Bowens reading
(Daughters of Miriam, 109).
3. Bowen does see her proposed childbirth ritual as part of the womens role as
prophets, but it is not clear how this would work or what the evidence might be.
However, her reasons for this reect a welcome approach: Bowen concisely and
eectively discusses the fallacy of the magic-religion dichotomy and its problem-
atic eects on the interpretation of the text.
how the outdated theoretical model, whether held consciously or not, ob-
structs our ability to understand the spectrum of Israelite divination. These
labels also reect the tendency to attribute womens religious activity to the
latter category (magic), which then circularly limits our view of womens
activity in Israelite religion.
The passage has only rarely been recognized as referring to necromancy.
In an article on avian spirits, Marjo Korpel examined the representation of
the spirits of the dead as birds or as birdlike in Ugaritic literature and in this
text. Jonathan Stkl has recently argued that the women called munabbitu
in several texts from Emar and the of Ezekiel 13 are in both cases
necromancers, based on internal evidence in each context as well as a new
philological proposal regarding the verbs as equivalent forms.
4. Jost, on the other hand, reads Ezekiels own methods as equally magical, and
sees the text as an example of conicting prophetic positions (The Daughters
of Your People Prophesy, 73). She considers the possibility that the women
might have prophesied (also?) in the name of Ishtar, building on Spiecker-
manns thesis that the text reects Assyrian inuence, noting the presence of
the female prophets of Ishtar of Arbela in the seventh century (pp. 7476). This
seems an unnecessary leap.
5. Korpel, Avian Spirits in Ugarit and in Ezekiel 13, 99113. Van der Toorn also
understands the women of Ezek 13 as necromancers, reading the as the
birdlike spirits of the dead (From Her Cradle to Her Grave, 123; also van der Toorn,
Family Religion in Babylonia, Syria, and Israel, 232). Meyers includes the passage
in a broader discussion of the presentation of women and female gures in
Ezekiel, noting the need to set aside the traditions ideological opposition to the
women as well as the dichotomy between magic and religion, and to recognize
the religious practice of the women. Like Bowen, she reads the womens activity
as related to reproduction, but she mentions that it could possibly be addition-
ally related to necromancy; Meyers, Engendering Ezekiel: Female Figures Re-
considered, 29092. Schmitt sees the passage as having to do partly with spirits
and the dead, but does not mention necromancy; he sees it rather as reecting
a general discomfort with female prophets (Magie im Alten Testament, 36062).
Surprising omissions of the text altogether include Loretz, Nekromantie und
Totenevokation, Tropper, Nekromantie, and Cryer, Divination in Ancient Israel.
6. Stkl, The in Ezekiel 13 Reconsidered, 6176. The verb nb at Emar
can refer to the invocation of the dead in inheritance arrangements. Building
on the previous work of Daniel Fleming, who rst connected the munabbitu
and nb to the biblical Hebrew in terms of both etymology and role as
religious personnel, with the nb involved in divinatory inquiry (explicitly at
Mari) and the munabbitu at Emar involved in a less clear type of invocation,
The items the women use are certainly tools of the trade, though ob-
serving this does not do much to elucidate the process. The women sew
fetters ( )on wrists and make shawls ( )to put upon heads, in
order to hunt ( i13:18). The joints of hands ( ) should logically
be wrists, though it is often read as elbows. The term is exible; in Jer-
emiah 38:12 it must mean armpits, as required by the story line there. The
on the wrists are sometimes rendered cushions, as in later Hebrew,
and the word does seem already to have had this meaning by the time of
the Septuagint, which translates . Instead of reading through
the lens of tannaitic Hebrew, though, observing the many forms of the Ak-
kadian cognate oers a more logical meaning. Akkadian kas A (CAD K
25053) means to put a person in fetters, to bind hands and feet, to bind
Stkl argues that the evidence suggests that the invocation is necromantic, and
also that munabbitu and are equivalent verbal forms. D. Fleming,
Nb and Munabbitu: Two New Syrian Religious Personnel, 17583.
magically; kastu (CAD K 243) refers to binding magic; and ksu B (CAD
K 43233) refers to a bond or fetter. The prevalence of wrist-binding in
Mesopotamian magic makes this reading a far more logical choice than
the otherwise-mysterious cushions or elbow pads. The women also make
shawls for heads of every height; the implication is that the shawls should
be long, presumably covering from head to toe.
Questions surrounding the nature of these mysterious items have
often occupied interpreters attention more than the purpose of the
items: the women sew wrist-fetters and so on in order to hunt
() . While we should certainly not think of as the Hellenistic
soul, we should also not overcorrect and lose the sense of as something
like the life force, to use Diethelm Michels preferred term. Greenbergs
translation of the phrase ( v. 18) as the persons of my
people, for instance, has little meaning. The semantic range of does in-
clude the inner life or life force. Beyond this, as Michel and van der Toorn
have argued, can specically refer to a spirit of the dead or ghost.
A key indicator that the in this passage are indeed the spirits
of the dead is their comparison to birds. Ezekiel proclaims Gods judg-
ment: I will go up against your fetters with which you hunt the
like birds [], and I will tear them from your arms and shoo away
the that you hunt, the like birds (13:20). The peculiar form
of can be taken in a few ways, but certainly refers to ying, and
is usually translated like birds. The lamed could also be a possessive, in
which case instead of hunting like birds, the women would hunt
the of the ying ones. All versions of this are rooted in the no-
tion of that y like birds, which conjures up the image of the spirits
of the dead. The bird imagery continues through Yahwehs next warning
as well: I will snatch my people from your hand, and they will no longer
be prey in your hands ( - - ,
13:21).
The use of bird imagery for spirits of the dead is not uncommon in
Near Eastern literature. Consider Enkidus description of his dream to
Gilgamesh:
[He struck] me, he turned me into a dove.
[He bound] my arms like (the wings of ) a bird,
to lead me captive to the house of darkness, the seat of Irkalla:
10. Even Greenberg, who reads as persons rather than any kind of spirits
and nds the lamed of unclear, translates like birds on the basis of Ara-
maic , bird. Allen, who nds the lamed dicult with either a participle,
ying, or a noun, bird, points to Cornills proposition (in the following foot-
note) and suggests the phrase (let go free) into the state of persons who y
away. Greenberg, Allen, and Zimmerli all point to the Aramaic stem , to
y, and all suggest the comparison to a bird escaping from a snare in Ps 124:7;
Greenberg and Zimmerli additionally note the comparison to Prov 6:5 (Green-
berg, Ezekiel 120, 24041; Allen, Ezekiel 119, 191; Zimmerli, Ezekiel 1, 289).
11. The textual issues in v. 20 of the odd - and the repetition of do
not aect the issues at stake here. It is possible that - is not only an
oddity but an error, but the most common proposal would still seem to describe
necromancy: Cornills widely noted speculation was that - was origi-
nally , free, based on the phrase , set free, as in Deut
15:1213 and elsewhere (Das Buch des Propheten Ezechiel, 251). Others have had
simpler responses, for instance, Brownlee: All critics of the passage have been
aware of an excess number of souls in the passage. It is usual to delete several
(Exorcising the Souls from Ezekiel 13:1723, 369). One could of course note
the excess number of passages in Brownlees statement for an example of such
redundancies as an authors own work.
12. The mention of people in this verse does not aect the reading of as the
spirits of the dead; in Ezek 26:20, the people in Sheol are called the .
13. SBV Gilg VII 182190; George, The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic, 1:645.
14. The passage in Nergal and Ereshkigal begins at the end of column ii but is
reconstructed in Gurneys edition of the Sultantepe version I use here, with
line numbers unknown due to missing lines beforehand; Gurney, The Sultan-
tepe Tablets VII. The Myth of Nergal and Ereshkigal, 115; Lapinkivi, The Neo-
Assyrian Myth of Itars Descent and Resurrection.
15. Dalley, Myths from Mesopotamia, 160 n.3.
16. At times including reference to one or more of the above passages. In addition
to Spronk and Korpel, note Bottro, La mythologie de la mort en Msopota-
mie ancienne, esp. 34; and Lewis, Cults of the Dead, 131.
17. Spronk, Beatic Afterlife in Ancient Israel and in the Ancient Near East, 100,
100 n.3, and bibliography. On the rpum, see Johannes de Moor, Demons in
Canaan, 11718.
18. For further examples and bibliography, see (in addition to Spronk, above) Kor-
pel, Avian Spirits, 99100, and Gaster, Myth, Legend, and Custom in the Old
In her work on avian spirits, Korpel focuses rst on some Ugaritic ma-
terial, arguing that the Ugaritic rpum texts demonstrate that in Canaanite
religion there existed a form of magic which enabled man to call up the
spirits of the dead in the form of birds, and then observes the presence
of such a tradition in Ezekiel 13. A few others have also recognized that
the use of bird imagery in Ezekiel 13 signies that the are the spirits
of the dead. Van der Toorn notes that the women in this text attempt to
communicate with the spirits of the dead. The latter are called souls by
Ezekiel. According to a gloss in the text, meant as a clarication, they are
ying souls, an expression based on the idea that the dead can manifest
themselves in the shape of birds.
Those who address the presence of this tradition in Ezekiel 13 seem
to see it as exceptional in the Bible, or perhaps point to Isaiah 8:19. Even
Korpel argues against the idea that the reference to birds in Ezekiel 13 is a
late gloss partly on the grounds that the idea of avian spirits is so foreign
to the Old Testament but so common in ancient Canaanite folk religion.
In fact, the traditional use of bird imagery for the spirits of the dead is not
so foreign to biblical traditions.
The birdlike qualities of the spirits of the dead are visible in several other
biblical texts. The clearest picture of this comes from a selection of texts in
First Isaiah, where ghosts and birds are both described as chirping, in the
same terms. Consider the hypothetical request for necromancy in Isaiah
Testament, 769 (whose interests include occurrences of the idea that cannot be
related, such as in China and Indonesia). Hays discusses the use of bird imagery
for the dead in light of animal imagery more broadly (Chirps from the Dust:
The Aiction of Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4:30 in Its Ancient Near Eastern
Context, 30525).
19. Korpel, Avian Spirits, 102. If the strongest form of her thesis is not fully proven,
the general association between birds and the spirits of the dead certainly is.
Her arguments regarding certain details of Ezek 13, such as her proposal that
the items used by the women are bird-catching paraphernalia (pp. 1023), are
not necessary to the basic point.
20. Van der Toorn, From Her Cradle to Her Grave, 123.
21. Spronk mentions Isa 8:19 and 10:14, but also 59:11, which is quite dierent (Be-
atic Afterlife, 255). Lewis, conversely, notes the bird imagery in his discussion of
Isa 8:1920, but does not address Ezek 13 (Cults of the Dead, 131).
22. Korpel, Avian Spirits, 104. If the references to birds were an addition, all this
would demonstrate is that at an early date, the somewhat opaque text about
hunting was interpreted as referring to spirits of the dead.
8:19, mentioned in the previous chapter: Inquire of the ghosts and spir-
its that chirp and moan ( - -) .
The verbs and are used together to describe the chirping and
moaning of birds elsewhere in First Isaiah: I chirp like [such-and-such
type of bird], I moan like a dove ( , Isa 38:14).
In Isaiah 29:4, is used alone in the comparison of the doomed city
to a ghost: You will be brought low and speak from the earth, and your
speech will be from below the dust; your voice will be like a ghost from
the earth, and your speech will chirp from the dust (
) . Assyrias
imagined boast in Isaiah 10:14 similarly uses alone: Assyria has raided
the people like raiding a nest and gathering the eggs, and not one apped
a wing or opened a beak and chirped ( ,
Isa 10:14). Thus, within the (relative) control group of First Isaiah, we hear
of chirping ghosts in 8:19 ( )and 29:4 (), and chirping birds
in 10:14 ( )and 38:14 ( ;)Isaiah 8:19 pairs the ghosts chirping
with moaning () , the same pairing of sounds attributed
to birds in 38:14 () .
23. The later idea of the chirping of angels must be rooted in this tradition as well.
the specic concept of raising spirits is indeed within the Israelite imagi-
nation. The story in 1 Samuel 28, though dierent from this oracle in so
many ways, oers a clear precedent for the interpretation of the raising of
a spirit or ghost (there called an ). The beliefs and practices behind
these two texts may be quite dierent, just as the terminology is dierent,
but we do see the shared notion of making spirits of the dead live for the
sake of divination.
This then begins to get at what it means to make live that
should not live. What then about the preceding phrase, to make die
that should not die? While this adds to the murky picture of the women
manipulating death, the precise meaning is not obvious. It should not be
read as literally killing people (hence my somewhat awkward choice of to
make die). There is another text that helps elucidate this phrase. The only
other biblical text in which a person is said to hunt is Proverbs 6:26,
there in reference to the predatory activity of the dangerous woman. The
term does not refer to literal necromancy in that text, but is an example
of the use of necromantic imagery that runs throughout the depictions of
dangerous women in Proverbs 19.
The relationship between the various representations of women in
Proverbs 19 is not altogether clear, but in brief, the portrayals of dangerous
women in those chapters are closely related to one another, not only in their
function but in their shared use of specic phrasing and imagery. If they
are not meant to form one consistent image, they are certainly overlapping
personications with recurring images and consistent behavior. In addi-
tion to the rst point of connection with Ezekiel 13 (the hunting of ),
those personications include the comparison of the womans prey to birds
(cf. Ezek 13:20), and the repeated images of a dangerous woman sending
people to Sheol. It is this last connection that most concerns us here.
This is a central theme in the representations of dangerous women in
Proverbs 19: her house sinks down to death and her tracks to the ;
none who come to her return and reach the paths of life (2:1619); her
feet go down to death, her steps take hold of Sheol (5:5); her house is the
pathway of Sheol, descending to the chambers of death (7:27); and nally,
the foolish woman invites innocent passersby into her home, but her po-
tential prey does not know that the are there, that her guests are in
24. These issues, as well as that of the necromantic imagery and metaphor in Prov-
erbs 19, are addressed in full in ch. 15 of this book.
the depths of Sheol (9:18). Returning to Ezekiel 13, the accusation that the
women who hunt are making die that should not die may
be at least somewhat clearer. In whatever precise sense, these women who
manipulate death are seen as able to send their prey down to Death.
We must also consider that the two key phrasesto make die and to
make live, in that orderare not paired strictly as a description of necro-
mancy. This plays on an earlier tradition in which Yahweh does just these
things. Ezekiel deftly gives a sense both of the womens activity itself, the
manipulation of death, and of what he sees as the proper view that renders
the womens activity transgressive. In the Song of Moses, we nd: See
now that I, I am he, and there is no god beside me! I make die and make
live, I have wounded and I will heal, and no one snatches out of my hand
( . . . , Deut 32:39). In Hannahs
prayer as well: Yahweh makes die and makes live, sends down to Sheol
and raises up ( , 1 Sam 2:6). Ezekiel 13 takes
up this tradition, implying that it is because only Yahweh actually makes
die and makes live that he will put an end to the divination of the necro-
mancers. Yahweh will destroy the instruments of the necromancers work,
those fetters and shawls, and says twice, I will snatch my people from your
hand ( -) , and you will know that I am Yahweh.
25. I use snatch in these proclamations rather than deliver in order to capture
the sense of competition over control of the spirits (from the inability of others
to take from Yahweh in the Song of Moses, to Yahwehs taking of the spirits in
Ezek 13), while setting this o against the image of the snaring of birds.
well worth noticing what is not wrong: the women are said to prophesy.
The use of the hitpael in verse 17 has frequently been taken as a signier of
pretense, that is, women who play the prophet. The hitpael of this verb
does not imply pretense, however. This is evident, for instance, in Ezekiels
use of the hitpael in reference to his own prophecy (Ezek 37:10), as noted
already by Wilson in 1979. He argued that the original sense of the hitpael
was indeed to act like a prophet, but without a sense of fabrication. It
meant, rather, to act as a prophet does, to exhibit characteristic prophetic
behavior, which as he notes would dier from group to group as well as
over time. Wilsons many examples include the clear illustration of 1 Kings
22:8, 10, 18, in which the prophecy of both Micaiah and the court prophets
is described in the hitpael. Thus, at the very least, the use of the verb in
Ezekiel 13:17 does not indicate that the women were only pretending to
prophesy. Beyond that, it could possibly suggest that Ezekiel saw them as
exhibiting what he understood to be characteristic prophetic behavior. One
interesting possibility: if what seemed characteristic to Ezekiel was his own
prophecy (37:10), and he was prone to elaborate visions, and he describes
the women as prophesying and having visions, it is possible that in some
ways their divination resembled his own.
Ezekiel does charge the women with lying, but even here, the implica-
tion is not just that the women are deceiving, but that they are themselves
deceived. Ezekiel accuses them of making live while you lie to my
people, you who listen to lies () . The phrase
is usually taken to refer to the people who listen to lies, that is, those
listening to the women, but the masculine plural of should not be
decisive, since the previous phrase that explicitly refers to the women also
has a masculine plural sux () . There are several such anoma-
lous masculine suxes in the passage, and it makes sense to read this full
phrase as including matching suxesthe women tell lies and listen to
lies. This corresponds to the end of the oracle, where Ezekiel concludes
that the women will no longer see empty visionsthat is, he refers to them
listening to falsehood in verse 19 and seeing falsehood in verse 23. This is
also in line with the oracle against the male false prophets, who see false
visions and hear and see lies (13:69). Again, the women are told that they
will no longer see visions; in other words, they have been until now. The
perspective of the text is that these women are in fact experiencing visions.
Their divination is also not false in the sense of being spoken in the
name of a god other than Yahweh. The implication of verse 19, You have
profaned me to my people (-) , is that these women have
indeed spoken in Yahwehs name. From their perspective, their divination
is Yahwistic. From the authors perspective, they have gotten it all dead
wrong (and you will know that I am Yahweh!), but not because they have
spoken in the name of some other god. On the contrary, the oense is pre-
cisely that they have spoken falsely in the name of this god.
Nonetheless, their divination is eective. As in many other texts, the
identication of the divinatory activity as false does not mean that it was
perceived as ineectual (cf. Deut 13:24 [Eng. 13:13]). This is consistent
with the view of other maligned religious practices, which may be spurned
for any number of reasons, but not because they are assumed to be unpro-
ductiveconsider, for instance, the king of Moabs eective child sacrice
in 2 Kings 3:27, which accomplishes its goal and causes Israel to retreat
(regardless of child sacrice having been banned along with foreign divi-
nation in Deut 18:10). Ezekiels oracle states that the women have in fact
been making die that should not die, and making live that
should not live. Yahwehs response will be to strip them of the tools of their
trade, thus preventing them from successfully continuing in their activities.
As Eichrodt puts it, Ezekiel did not doubt the ecacy of the womens acts
in the name of Yahweh, but condemns the falsehood of their claim to be
acting with Gods commission or according to his will.
It is also not the fact that the women are paid for their work that makes
it false. We see that many Yahwistic prophets were professionals. Neither
is it a matter of greed, even among professionals. They receive handfuls
of barley and pieces of breada rather modest living, as Jost points out.
30. Contra, e.g., Hals, who assumes it must be some form of syncretistic practice
(Ezekiel, 89).
31. Eichrodt, Ezekiel, 17172.
32. Jost, The Daughters of Your People Prophesy, 71. Greenbergs alternate ex-
planation of the barley and bread not as payment but as used in divination has
its appeal, but seems unlikely. He notes that in Mesopotamia breadcrumbs are
oered exclusively to ghosts, citing Oppenheim, but this is only a possibility
Oppenheim considers, and he specically distinguishes the scattering of bread-
crumbs from actual bread, which is what is mentioned in Ezek 13. Greenberg,
Ezekiel 120, 240; Oppenheim, Analysis of an Assyrian Ritual (KAR 139), 258.
184
So what does this eschatological ideal look like to Joel? There is the
obvious symbolic representation of the whole spectrum of society: the sons
and daughters, the old men and young men, and even the male and female
servants. There is also a range of types of divination: prophesying, dream-
ing, and having visions, all brought about by Yahweh pouring out his spirit
on all esh.
But this is worth a pause: if all of this is sparked by Yahweh choosing to
pour his spirit onto everyone (as repeated in both verses), why then would
he not have done this before? The answer remains a bit of a mystery: Yah-
weh is ckle, and pours out his spirit on whomever he chooses. Apparently
it is only in the imagined future that this will include all types of people.
Such disavowal of human responsibility for the distinctions between who
can prophesy and who cannot is not out of place among biblical texts, but
if this oracle is characterized by an element of social revolution, as Wol
writes, it is essentially a revolution against Yahwehs previous choices.
Wol notes that Joels oracle is a promise of the fulllment of Moses
wish in Numbers 11:29. Moses exclaims there, Would that all the people
of Yahweh were prophets, that Yahweh would put his spirit on all of them!
Finally, in the last days, as Joel imagines them, Yahweh will catch up.
186
1. Contra Kessler, who nds it clear that Noadiah, among other prophets, was
claiming Nehemiah as king, thus putting him at risk with the Persian authori-
ties. He also sees the text as reecting a position in this period that subordinates
prophecy to Torah (Miriam and the Prophecy of the Persian Period, 8284).
Butting follows Kessler, seeing Noadiah as the exponent of prophecy, in con-
ict with Nehemiah as the exponent of Torah, and again argues that it is in a
female prophet that the relationship of prophecy to Torah is expressed (Prophe-
tinnen Gefragt, 1011). Fischer sees in Noadiah the increased prophetic authority
of women in the Persian period, from which point she sees other traditions of
female prophets written back into the story of Israels prophetic past (Gotteskn-
derinnen, 255, 27677).
Or maybe she is singled out because she is female, and as Carroll sug-
gests, female prophets who oppose male authority do not fare well. Carroll
compares Miriams opposition to Moses in Numbers 12 and suggests that
Noadiah may be meeting a similar fate here.
This is certainly possible. However, no character who opposes the main
positions taken in a given text fares too well, so the fact that this includes
women does not indicate that in every case it is because they are women.
Perhaps the safest conclusion to draw on the basis of the passing reference
to Noadiah is that Nehemiahs world full of dangerous enemies included a
range of political opponents and representative prophetic conict, and one
player at one point may have been female; and if Noadiah was female, and
if Nehemiah meant to draw attention to this, he did not succeed, as we can
see from the signicant variant traditions that understood the character as
male.
In this texts eeting reference to Noadiah, as in the brief passage in
Joel discussed in the previous chapter, there is enough intriguing material
to warrant inclusion in a work on womens divination. However, while each
passage raises a variety of issues that merit scrutiny, neither one throws
much light on views of womens divination, and I prefer to draw no conclu-
sions beyond what the evidence can bear.
The texts discussed until now have all included portrayals of women
engaging in or associated with divination. We turn here to two texts that
are not in the same category, but that allude to divination, to diering de-
grees. The story of Rachel depicts the matriarch holding on to her familys
teraphim, which are frequently used for divination. The story of Micah in-
cludes a glimpse of his mother, whose range of religious activity in just a
few verses includes the commissioning (but not use) of divinatory objects.
The use of teraphim for divination is explicit in many texts. In Ezekiel 21,
for instance, the king of Babylon is said to engage in divination (-)
in several ways, including inquiring of the teraphim ( , Ezek
21:26 [Eng. 21:21]). The divinatory function of teraphim is equally overt
in Zechariah 10:2, and with a similarly negative judgment: For the ter-
aphim have spoken iniquity, and the diviners have seen false visions
( -) . First Samuel 15:23 uses in
parallel with teraphim (rebellion is like the sin of , stubbornness is like
;) and so on. While teraphim may have served other functions as
well, their use in divination is suggested by most textual references.
1. Lewis too observes that the divinatory function . . . is the best attested among
the occurrences of terpm in the OT. He nds that the teraphim are associ-
ated with divinatory practices of some kind in all of the passages except for the
Michal story and the possible exception of the Rachel story. Lewis, Teraphim,
849. Van der Toorn also emphasizes the divinatory function of teraphim in bibli-
cal texts (The Nature of the Biblical Teraphim in the Light of the Cuneiform
Evidence, 21117).
189
2. Van der Toorn, The Nature of the Biblical Teraphim, 20322; van der Toorn
and Lewis, , t erpm, 15:77789.
3. Rouillard and Tropper had previously suggested that the teraphim were ances-
tor gurines, though (as van der Toorn observes) based on less strong evidence
(TRPYM rituels de gurison et culte des anctres daprs 1 Samuel XIX 1117 et
les textes parallles dAssur et de Nuzi, 34061, esp. 35161). Lewis, Teraphim,
84546; Cooper and Goldstein, The Cult of the Dead and the Theme of Entry
into the Land, 295.
4. Van der Toorn, The Nature of the Biblical Teraphim, esp. 21517. Lewis, Tera-
phim, 84850. On the close relationship between teraphim and , see Rouil-
lard and Tropper, TRPYM rituels de gurison et culte des anctres, 35556.
5. Spanier argues that Rachel stole the teraphim in order to gain status as the pri-
mary or preferred wife, and to pass authority to her sons (Rachels Theft of the
Teraphim: Her Struggle for Family Primacy, 40412). Sarna had already pointed
out that in this text the teraphim could not have been meant to guarantee legal
land inheritance (against arguments such as that of Speiser, Genesis, 250), since
they are leaving the land in question permanently; Sarna, Genesis, 216.
Rachels Teraphim
The suggestion that Rachels theft of the teraphim in Genesis 31:1735
was related to their potential divinatory use is not new. Rashbam, Ibn Ezra,
Kimhi, Nahmanides, and others argued that she took the teraphim in order
to keep Laban from consulting them and discovering her whereabouts.
This is of course a possibility. There is another possibility, however,
which will presumably be evident to the reader by this point in the present
work. Could it not be that Rachel herself wanted to be able to use the tera-
phim for divination? To my knowledge, this suggestion appears nowhere
in ancient, medieval, or modern commentary. At the very least, if it has
appeared anywhere, it has quietly disappeared as well.
The author does not discuss Rachels motives for stealing the teraphim,
so we cannot establish them with certainty. We can, however, establish that
her motivation does not appear to be related to inheritance, as some have
argued. When Jacob tells Rachel and Leah that he plans for them all to
leave Labans land, the sisters respond with the observation that their future
childrens inheritance is with Jacob now anyway. Do we still have any por-
tion or inheritance in our fathers house? Arent we like strangers to him?
For he sold us, and utterly ate through our money. All of the wealth that
God took from our father, that is ours and our childrensso all that God
6. For examples and brief discussion, see Greenberg, Another Look at Rachels
Theft of the Teraphim, 239; and Spanier, Rachels Theft of the Teraphim, 405.
This tradition persists: Sarna, for instance, notes the use of the teraphim for divi-
nation and suggests, Perhaps Rachel, by appropriating them, hoped to deprive
her father of the ability to detect Jacobs escape, citing Rashbam and Ibn Ezra
(Genesis, 216).
7. The reader may recall a similar default assumption of male agency in interpreta-
tion of the Rebekah story, where if divination is recognized at all, it is almost
always assumed that Rebekah sought out a diviner or man of God to inquire
on her behalf.
has said to you, do (Gen 31:1416). The sisters state explicitly that their
father has nothing left for them, and so they will emigrate with Jacob, and
thus with their inheritance. After the women agree to emigrate, Rachel
steals the teraphim. This is not presented as related to the subject of the in-
heritance; nor would it accomplish anything related to an inheritance that
the sisters have just said no longer exists with Laban in any case.
Note also that the sisters have been speaking and acting as a unit until
now: they speak as one in 31:1416, and then they are put on camels together
in 31:17. In light of the bitter competition between the sisterscreated by
Laban in 29:2130which comprises virtually their entire story until now
(29:3130:24), their speech and action as a unit in the rst part of this scene
is rather pointed. It is immediately after this that Rachel steals the tera-
phim: this action is hers alone.
Rachels sudden independent action here in taking the teraphim re-
ects something for which she has an independent desire. She wants to
hold on to these items of her household religion. A reasonable default as-
sumption is that Rachels desire to hold on to her familys teraphim was not
merely a desire to have the objects, but also to use them. Since they were
primarily associated with divination, it seems most likely that she took the
teraphim so she could utilize them for this purpose.
The simplest explanationthat Rachel steals the teraphim because she
wants them for a function they serveseems straightforward even before
we consider her place in the broader narrative. After all, what is specic to
Rachel in the tradition? Her primary role in the literature is as the mother of
Joseph. Mother and son are famously alike: they are both the most beloved
of JacobRachel more than her sister, and Joseph more than his brothers
(29:30, 37:3). They are also both remarkably beautiful: Rachel and Joseph
are identically said to be attractive of form, and attractive of appearance
( - ,i29:17; - ,i39:6).
8. Because the word always appears in the plural, it is at times dicult to tell
whether the intended meaning is singular or plural (like , in more than
one way). It is unclear whether Rachel steals one object or more. She is able to
hide her teraphim beneath her, but since we know neither the size of the tera-
phim nor the baggage allowance of the camel (presumably large), the question
remains open. I will use the plural here for the sake of convenience, but am not
committed to the view that she must have taken more than one teraphim.
9. Van der Toorns brief discussion of how Rachels theft indicates her reluctance
to break with her fathers family religion is instructive; Family Religion, 257.
explains to Rachel and Leah that God has continually taken ( )Labans
ocks and given them to him (31:79). The sisters acknowledge that God
took (again )this wealth away from their father and gave it to Jacob
(31:16). Then, when the matter of the teraphim arises, the issue at stake is
whether Jacob or someone in his party has once again stolen from Laban.
Already within this material it is clear that in the matter of the teraphim,
we are not dealing with an isolated instance of theft, but with one manifes-
tation of a broader theme.
Second, this is the theme that characterizes the Jacob-Esau story line.
As Esau sums up in 27:36, Jacob has twice taken what was his: rst the
birthright and then the blessing. In both of those scenes, the narrative in-
dicates that what Jacob took was divinely intended for him all along. We
see this motif, then, from the early Jacob story in which Jacob is accused of
having stolen the birthright and the blessing, to the Jacob v. Laban subplot,
in which Jacob is accused of having stolen Labans ocks and his daughters,
to the scene in question, in which Jacobs party is accused of having stolen
the teraphim.
None of the previous acts of stealing are condemned: each time Jacob
takes something from another personwho in each case feels the injus-
tice of it and characterizes it as stealingthe narrator portrays Jacobs ac-
tions as a strategic means to an end. From the authors perspective, God is
transferring Labans household to Jacob and his household, just as he had
previously transferred Esaus birthright and blessing to Jacob. If, when Ja-
cob acquires Labans wealth through questionable means, this is understood
as part of how God is transferring Labans household to Jacob, why not
also when Rachel acquires Labans teraphim through questionable means?
Labans response demonstrates that the teraphim are a valued part of his
household, and they are now transferred to Jacobs household. (The reader
will recall that the ruse is never discovered, and Rachel keeps the teraphim.)
Why assume that the narrator saw Jacobs actions as justied, but Rachels
as unjustied? When Labans sons are angry that Jacob has stolen their
fathers ocks, we know that from the authors perspective, God has given
this wealth to Jacob. When a few verses later Laban is angry that someone
in Jacobs party has stolen his teraphim, perhaps here too the implication
is that the accuser misses the pointthat once again, Jacobs household is
increased while Labans is decreased. As with Esau in the formative epi-
sodes and with Labans sons moments earlier, so too with Laban now: the
unfortunate unblessed smart at the injustice of their blessing and goods
being snatched by Jacob, and fail to recognize that this is God transferring
blessing to Jacob. It is unclear on what basis we would assume that this is
the authors perspective each of the other times that Jacob and his house-
hold are increased through deceit, but not this time. Perhaps here too the
act is strategic, and the ends justify the means.
The objections to this may be that in Rachels case, either the action
or the thing stolen is more illicit. We have no indication that either of
these was the narrators view. On the rst possible objection: when Esau
accuses Jacob of stealing his blessing, he is right. Jacob deceives his ail-
ing father, takes advantage of his blindness, and steals the blessing from
his brother. This is actually quite appalling. However, from the authors
perspective, Jacob is meant to have the blessing, and so even taking ad-
vantage of his aging fathers disability and stealing from his own brother
is portrayed as part of how he acquires it. Likewise with the ocks: when
Labans sons accuse Jacob of stealing their fathers ocks, their accusa-
tion is correct, or at least if it is incorrect, it is only very technically so
because, playground-style, no one said you couldnt control the outcome
with magic (30:3143).
On the second possible objection, the teraphim are not seen as illicit
here. We have no more reason to condemn the use of teraphim than to
condemn Jacobs use of magic. While both are denounced in other tradi-
tions, neither is in this one. Several texts reect the acceptance of teraphim
as part of Israelite religious life. The presence of teraphim in Davids palace
in 1 Samuel 19 is presented as so perfectly acceptable as to be a nonissue.
Hosea 3:4 includes a list of things Israel will have to survive without for
a time: they will be without a king, a leader, a sacrice, a matzevah, and
without ephod and teraphim (as a pair). Afterward, the children of Israel
will return to Yahweh their God and David their king, and fear God again
(3:5). Later texts, such as those in Ezekiel and Zechariah, certainly take a
critical view of the teraphim, but we cannot import this view backward, any
more than we would with other aspects of Israelite religious life that later
became problematic for Yahwists.
10. Van der Toorn also reads this to mean that according to this text, an ephod and
teraphim belonged to the normal equipment of an Israelite cult place (ibid.,
219); Grabbe considers the possibility that it may demonstrate Hoseas accep-
tance of the teraphim as legitimate for divinatory purposes (Priests, Prophets,
Diviners, Sages, 127).
Although the story is about Micah, the rst several verses center on
the religious activities of his mother. First, as Micah acknowledges, she had
cursed him when he stole the silver. Then, when he admits his thievery and
returns the silver, she blesses him in the name of Yahweh; unfortunately,
we do not also get to see the content of her curse. Next, she proclaims that
she is dedicating all of the silver to Yahweh, for her son. Finally, she gives a
craftsman two hundred of her eleven hundred pieces of silver, and he makes
the rst pair of images for Micahs private sanctuary () , the
and the .
This leaves nine hundred pieces of Micahs mothers silver, which she
has just said she is fully dedicating to Yahweh for her son. The next verse
says that Micah made an ephod and a teraphim. Is the implication that
these too are funded by his mother, with the silver that she has just pledged
back to him for the express purpose of dedicating it to Yahweh on his be-
half? All of the details of the transaction are skipped this time. A craftsman
must have made these items as well, and been paid to do so, but we hear of
no such person, and we hear neither about where the money for their con-
struction came from nor to whom it was paid. It is safe to assume there was
a craftsman and a nancial transaction involved here too, just as there was
the rst time. Since Micahs mother has dedicated eleven hundred pieces
of silver to Yahweh for her son, used two hundred for one pair of sanctuary
objects, nine hundred pieces remain, we are told that she gives the money
back to her son, and then he commissions another pair of sanctuary objects,
it seems likely that the funding for this pair comes from her as well.
There seems to be little attention paid to Micahs mothers role here.
Niditch does observe that there is a question regarding whether Micah or
his mother commissions the pieces, though she suggests that the ambigu-
ity might be attributable to multiple narrators. Otherwise, there is a good
deal of attention to Micah as the owner of a home sanctuary, but not to his
benefactress, the Doa Gracia of his private .
11. I disagree with the idea that should be read as a hendiadys in order
to match the singular verb that follows (Boling, for example, suggests, sculpture
and something poured out; Judges, 256). For alternate views and bibliography
on the question, see T. Butler, Judges, 37889. Reading the two words as a hen-
diadys would not change the above interpretation, however.
12. Niditch, Judges, 17778.
13. Cox and Ackerman have addressed the nancial activity of Micahs mother and
attribute it to her recent widowhood (Micahs Teraphim, 137). See Cox and
Ackerman also for discussion of the teraphim in general and in this text, and of
the .
Of these four cultic objects, we know that the ephod and teraphim
could both be used for divination (see Davids use of the ephod for divina-
tion in 1 Sam 23:9 and 30:7). It seems the and the were as well,
based on the objection to this elsewhere. In Habakkuk 2:1819, the and
( called a teacher of lies, ) are scorned together, in a Second
Isaiahstyle mocking of the absurdity of telling this wood and stone over-
laid with silver and gold to awake and arise, saying, It will teach! Compare
Zechariah 10:2, For the teraphim have spoken iniquity, and the diviners
have seen false visions.
It is not clear whether Micah uses all four objects for divination, but
there is at least no separation drawn between those we know are divinatory
and those that seem to have been. They are all listed together repeatedly,
but in dierent orders, throughout the larger story ( Judg 18:14, 17; 18:18; and
all but the in 18:20). In 18:24, Micah calls these items my gods which
I made. It would not be surprising for representations of gods to be used
for divination: that is, for the gods to be asked to speak (cf. the teraphim
speaking in Zech 10:2). The four objects, two of which are certainly used
for divination and two of which seem to have been, reside together in Mi-
cahs sanctuary, where the Levite priest will soon inquire for the Danite
spies ( Judg 18:5).
The range of Micahs mothers religious activity in these very few verses
is remarkable: when her son steals from her, she curses him, and when he
returns her silver, she blesses him and funds his sanctuary. This may be most
interesting for the parts that we do not get to see: would that we could hear
the content of the curse she utters, and see the details of her role as bene-
factor in dedicating eleven hundred pieces of silver to Yahweh for her son.
(This seems a tremendous amount; cf. the Levites pay, which is specied at
in 17:10.) Finally, it is intriguing that she seems to fund the
construction of divinatory objects for her sons sanctuary.
The benefactress is unknown to us. Many commentatorsancient,
medieval, and modernhave noted that Delilah received eleven hundred
14. The range of possibilities for the ephod has been widely observed, but does not
aect the present argument.
15. Cox and Ackerman argue that several elements of Judg 1718 suggest that Mi-
cahs father has recently died, and that the teraphim is thus commissioned as an
image of the new deied ancestor (ibid., 1116). The use of the ancestor gurine
here for divination would then be necromantic inquiry.
pieces of silver for her betrayal in Judges 16:5, and some have thus consid-
ered the possibility that Delilah was Micahs mother. This is a stretch.
While it is conceivable that a numerical detail in one story about a woman
associated with a great deal of silver may have at some point ltered into
another, this still would not indicate anything about the identity of the
character in the Micah story as understood by the author. The suggestion
that these were written as the same character is not supported.
However, the placement of the narrative directly after the story of Sam-
son and Delilah may be useful in interpretation in a dierent way, especially
given its placement between that and the story of the Levite and his con-
cubine. Ackerman has usefully juxtaposed Delilahs relative autonomy with
the concubines utter and tragic lack of the same. Both of these are in
some ways surprising, as Ackerman observes: Delilah has more autonomy
than the reader might expect given the constraints of the nonmarital sexual
relationship, whereas the concubine, who turns out in fact to be the Le-
vites wife (her father is referred to as his father-in-law in Judg 19:4, 7, and
9), has virtually none. If we consider the story of Micah bookended by these
tales, his mothers nancial and religious autonomy is all the more striking.
From start to nish, the story of Micahs sanctuary is Yahwistic. His
mother explicitly blesses him in Yahwehs name, and Micah installs a Le-
vite as priest of his sanctuary, because that way, he gures, Yahweh will be
good to him ( Judg 17:13). The description of a private sanctuary with graven
images does not match later proper Yahwism, of course, and thus some
see it as idolatry, but it should be understood as comparable to the sin
of Jeroboamand, as I have argued, that of the women of Ezekiel 13: it is
Yahwistic from the perspective of the characters, if questionable (or worse)
from the perspective of the storyteller.
These few verses, only there as a prologue to a much longer story, hint
at a fascinating character: she utters a curse at her son, then blesses him
in Yahwehs name, and nally acts as an autonomous benefactress who
16. For examples of ancient and medieval commentary, see Gunn, Judges, 233.
Among modern scholars, McCann (Judges, 120) and Matthews (Judges and
Ruth, 17071) note the possibility that Delilah was Micahs mother, and Schnei-
der argues for it (Judges, 23133).
17. Ackerman, Warrior, Dancer, Seductress, Queen, 22440.
18. McCann sees Micah as having created another god besides God (Judges, 120),
and as engaging in idolatry (12022). Niditch, however, recognizes the Yahwism
as comparable to that of Jeroboam (Judges, 18182).
chooses to fund the creation of sacred objects for her sons private sanc-
tuary. She commissions the and , which may serve a divinatory
function, and likely also funds the ephod and teraphim, which are certainly
divinatory objects. The allusions to this womans activities are tantalizing;
the details are just beyond our reach.
Michal
The story in which Michal uses a teraphim as a decoy after letting
David down through a window to escape Saul is not related to divination
(1 Sam 19:1117). One poignant note, though: if we consider how Rachels
desire to keep her fathers teraphim rings of her son Josephs divination and
his divinatory objects, and Micahs mother funds the construction of divi-
natory objects for her sons sanctuary, then Michals utterly banal use of the
teraphim also seems suddenly reminiscent of her father, Saul, who became
known for his lack of access to divine knowledge. Far from being associated
with divination, either successful or failing, Michals utilitarian appropria-
tion of the teraphim reects Sauls legacy of limitation in this area.
explained in this waythe fact that they are his missing teraphim dem-
onstrates that men also used these objects. In the story of Micah as well,
though my interest is in the role of his mother, the text itself focuses on
Micah who owns the teraphim, and the Levite priest, who inquires in
Micahs sanctuary. The only other gender-specic reference to divining by
teraphim concerns the king of Babylon (Ezek 21:26 [Eng. 21:21]). Teraphim
are not specic to the divinatory activity of women.
The scholarly tendency to assign particular religious activities along
gender lines is strong, as seen in the pervasive notion of female prophets
as songstresses. The distinction between mens and womens roles is not
warranted in the case of teraphim either. On the contrary, as we see en-
capsulated in Rachel and Labans tug of war over the teraphim, these are
divinatory objects that might hold appeal for both women and men.
The previous twelve chapters have been devoted to texts that reect a
broad range of views of womens divination. As an addendum, there is one
minor literary phenomenon that should be addressed here, partly because it
reects tinges of the later trajectory of interpretation of womens divination.
A few texts employ images of womens divination, used metaphorically. In
each context, the sense of the metaphor is pejorative.
1. On the relationship between the foolish woman of Prov 9 and the foreign
woman of Prov 7 and earlier texts, see Weekss detailed observations regarding
a range of connections, e.g., the foolish woman entertains guests in Sheol in
9:18, and the foreign womans house is the path to Sheol, 7:27; the uncommon
word is used of both, 7:11, 9:13; and both entice men into illicit pleasures.
Weeks concludes that the foolish womanhere Follyis a personication, like
Wisdom, but she is associated, possibly even identied with the type of woman
portrayed in chapters 57 (Instruction and Imagery in Proverbs 19, 72). Both the
foolish woman and the foreign woman act as a counterpart to the gure of Wis-
dom, and both lure men to their deaths; Weeks sees a probable identication
203
between the two women, who serve a similar function throughout these passages
(12829).
2. Text and translation of Barkay et al., The Amulets from Ketef Hinnom: A New
Edition and Evaluation, 5861, 6568.
3. Fox also notes the concept of tying the words like a pendant or amulet on
a string around your neck, and that the metaphor also suggests amulet-like
protection, but sees this as indicating that the teachings are a substitute for an
actual amulet (Proverbs 19, 22829). See, however, Miller, Apotropaic Imagery
in Proverbs 6:2022, 12930, briey establishing the apotropaic function of these
objects, building on Speisers work on the apotropaic use of the bound items in
Deut 6:78 and 11:1820 (Speiser, Palil and Congeners: A Sampling of Apotro-
paic Symbols, 38993). The apotropaic function is assumed by others as well,
e.g., Murphy, Proverbs, 39.
ghosts elsewhere who it and chirp like birds, this womans penchant for
hunting , and the image in Ezekiel 13 of the women who hunt
like birds (Ezek 13:20). This possibility is heightened by the fact that what
follows is overtly about the fatal risk of following the woman: one is not
to stray down her path, for many are the pierced she has struck down, and
numerous are all her slain; her house is the pathway of Sheol, descending to
the chambers of death (7:2627).
The portrayal of the womans contact with the dead continues. The de-
scription of the foolish woman calling out from the doorway of her house
in 9:1318 concludes with a vivid picture. She beckons the passersby in
verse. 16 (just as Wisdom does in v. 4), but her potential victim does not
know that the are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol
( - - ;9:18). This woman entertains the dead in Sheol. This
is not a passing remark, but the closing statement of Proverbs 19.
There are other references in Proverbs 19 to death and destruction re-
sulting from consorting with the wrong peopleProverbs is full of this
but, by contrast, the troublemakers in 1:12 only compare themselves to the
hungry maw of Sheol, saying let us swallow them [our victims] alive like
Sheol, and in 2:1213, the men who speak duplicitously follow the ways of
darkness. Only the imagined woman controls the pathways to Sheol; only
she plays host to the .
The religious danger this woman presents is not that she leads people
into idolatry, as often assumed. She does not worship other gods or make
questionable sacrices: she is religiously dangerous because she manipu-
lates the pathways to Sheol. The point is not necessarily that the imagined
woman is literally meant to be a necromancer, but that the author depicts
the dangerous woman using the language and imagery of necromancy. This
is by no means the only option. The womans house could be the road to
ruin, shame, loss, and so on, without being the road to Sheol; it could be de-
scribed as a dismal whorehouse, not a ghost house, full of harlots upstairs,
and not ghosts downstairs; her guests could be fools, and not the .
4. Though he sees her primarily as an adulteress, Fox notes that in the conclusion to
Prov 7 the woman is described in nearly superhuman terms, as a mass murderer
and an aliate of the underworld (Proverbs 19, 253). This depiction might t
better with the conclusions of Weeks, who argues that the emphasis in the im-
ages of the woman in Prov 19 is not on adultery, but on apostasy, with the stress
on her persuasive speech (Instruction and Imagery in Proverbs 19, 8488).
men both spiritually (that is, relating to the world of spirits) and sexually.
This trope is specic to women and is rooted in fears and suspicions about
various powers women might hold over men. It thus necessarily includes
religious danger that goes beyond the lure to idolatry. Before reecting
more on this trope, however, it remains to draw a preliminary conclusion
regarding the allusions to necromancy in Proverbs 19, and to consider a
few other texts.
The main implication of the above is that the image of the dangerous
woman in Proverbs is tinged with the language of necromancy because
some form of such otherworldly power is native to the trope. The dangerous
ability to manipulate the hidden spiritual world, and sexually tempting or
even predatory behavior, are a set of traits that together depict peril per-
sonied. The image in Proverbs is not about necromancy, but about peril.
The intimations of necromantic activity in Proverbs 19 function as a
metaphor, and a profoundly negative one. As emphasized throughout this
work, various biblical traditions exhibit a range of perspectives on dierent
types of divination. The ideas reected in Proverbs 19 are generally aligned
with those traditions that equate certain forms of divination with foreign
practice, illicit religious activity, and all manner of abominations.
7. Note the common imagery of prowling, lurking, preying. Some of the language
itself is also shared: as the woman hunts, , in Prov 6:26, the witch in Maql
prowls. This is the Akkadian cognate sdu A (CAD S 5758), to hunt or prey
on (as well as to whirl), which is used in cuneiform texts to describe the preda-
tory actions of malevolent beings, such as the utukku-demon who prowls in
the land (CT 17 36 K.9272:9), and the evil beings who prowl through the city
(CT 16 31:123f ).
8. Though the MT has the verb , other versions have the logical noun, e.g.,
in the LXX. The BHS critical apparatus suggests , as if adul-
terer is another reference to the woman, which has the odd eect of taking the
father out of the picture entirely. The phrase makes the most sense as it stands:
indictment of the people begins with this address to them as the children
of a deviant woman, before turning into an image of the people collectively
personied as the woman herself.
The imagined woman in this text is again spiritually and sexually dan-
gerousshe is both a soothsayer and a whore. In this case, however, she
is explicitly not foreignrather, she is essentially said to be worse than a
foreigner. The depiction comes in the context of an oracle that juxtaposes
righteous foreigners with unrighteous Israelites. After oering assurance
to those who do what is right and just, who keep the Sabbath and do no
harmnot only Israelites, but also the foreigner (-)the prophet
delivers this withering picture of Israels own leaders. The burnt oerings of
righteous foreigners will be accepted on the mountain of God, and Gods
house will be called a house of prayer for all peoples (56:17)but not so
for the Israelite leaders, who are the unrighteous , drawn in contrast
to the righteous -.
In verse 6, we turn to the woman herself, and Isaiah dives into a litany
of accusations of sexual and religious deviance. These intertwined images
run through the whole passage, and include good old-fashioned idola-
try as well as something more spiritually potent. The deviant womans
activities mirror the initial twin labels of whore and soothsayer: Youve
made your bed welcoming . . . youve loved their bed; youve seen yad
( . . . , v. 8). And then: You have sent
your envoys afar, lowered them to Sheol (- , v. 9). The image
of a woman who controls the pathways to Sheol is familiar by now. While
the text does not portray communication with the deadthe woman is not
the imagined parentage includes both father and mother, in the presumably
realistic image of a male adulterer and a female prostitute.
9. Perhaps the image of Israel as the child of a transgressing woman just blurs into
this next section addressing Israel as the same woman, or perhaps it is a brilliant
literary move, in which the people repeat the sins of the fathersor in this case
the motherssuggesting that the unrighteous leaders of Israel are continuing
in a history of unrighteous leaders.
10. On some of these verses in Isa 57 as a creative expansion of material in Jer 2, see
Holladay, Was Trito-Isaiah Deutero-Isaiah After All? 197201.
11. The verb also refers to being lowered to Sheol in Isa 29:4, in which Jeru-
salem is personied as a woman. In that context, the prophet compares the city
after its collapse to a ghost chirping from beneath the ground (with no sugges-
tion of the imagined woman controlling the path down).
12. Not all female whore metaphors include sorcery (e.g., the personications in
Isa 1:21, Jer 23, Hos 14), but all whore metaphors that include sorcery refer to
women.
13. In Naming the Witch, Stratton focuses on the rhetoric of stereotypes of witches
and accusations of witchcraft, with signicant attention to gender. Throughout
her work, she addresses relevant patterns in Greek, Roman, early Christian, and
rabbinic literature.
for instance, the masculine noun kapu (sorcerer) nearly always appears
alongside the feminine noun kaptu (sorceress), while the sorceress is fre-
quently mentioned by herself. Actual witches could be male or female;
individual portraits and targets of accusations were generally female.
Although my focus here is on the employment and adaptation of a
literary trope, it is worth remembering that this was not only a literary phe-
nomenon, but a historical association that aected womens lives. Consider,
among many possible examples, the joint accusations of sorcery and sexual
deviance recorded in a Mari letter in which the wife of Yarkab-Addu is
subjected to a river ordeal on charges of both sorcery (generically kipum)
and sexual betrayal (ARM 26 249).
The image of the sorceress who preys on men both magically and sexu-
ally is seen in literature from Mesopotamia (as in Maql) to Greece (con-
sider Circe, just to name one example), so it is not surprising to see it show
up in Israel as well. The tandem accusation of a female character being a
witch and a whore is a recurring motif, not specically tied to Yahwistic
monotheism but rooted in more widespread images of dangerous women.
Where it appears in biblical literature, it should be recognized as an expres-
sion of this broader trope.
14. CAD K 29192. The portrait of the lone female witch in Maql III, discussed
above, is an example of this pattern. Consider in this light the sorceress of
Exod 22:17 (Eng. 22:18).
15. On the stereotype of the female witch in Mesopotamia, see Abusch and Schwe-
mer, Corpus of Mesopotamian Anti-Witchcraft Rituals, 46.
16. Durand, Archives pistolaires de Mari I/1, 52729; with commentary on several as-
pects of the river ordeal, including these accusations, 51216. For Durands evalu-
ation of Bottros earlier edition of the text with a dierent reading of the rel-
evant section, see 528 n.f; Bottro, Lordalie en Mesopotamie ancienne, 104145.
17. I intend for the word whore to communicate the full semantic range of the
term , which can refer to a profession, habitual behavior, or a perceived
character trait. In some texts it is used as a technical term (prostitute), and in
some, it is sexual slander (slut); the modern English use of the word whore
communicates this spectrum of possibilities, and includes the inherent ambigu-
ity of which meaning is intended (this ambiguity being part of the force of the
insult). See, for instance, the range of meanings in Ezek 16:3134, where the per-
sonied woman is repeatedly called a whore, but contrastedto take Ezekiels
tonewith whores who do it for money, while shes a whore who doesnt
even take money, i.e., a slut.
18. Biddle compares this to the personication in Isa 57: Lady Zions Alter Egos:
Isaiah 47:115 and 57:613 as Structural Counterparts, 12439.
19. On possible further magical language in the passage, see Blenkinsopp, Isaiah
4055, 27484.
How can all be well when your mothers such a witch and a whore? is not
nice. The contemptuous line is an insult in much the same way as it would
be in modern parlance: there is no evidence that Jezebel did anything to
merit such slander. There is no description of her engaging in sorcery, or
in fact in sexual activity of any kind, let alone whoring. She has been a
violent queen, killing the prophets (1 Kgs 1819), having a local landowner
executed on trumped-up charges so that her husband could take his vine-
yard (1 Kgs 21), and trying to kill the prophets some more. First Kings 21:
25 explicitly blames Jezebel for Ahabs wickedness (in spite of the fact that
16:31 tells of Ahab marrying her because he was already wicked), but even
there, she is blamed only for having generally incited him. Jezebel is vio-
lent and nastynote her threat to Elijah in 19:2, when she nds out that
he survived her rst mass slaughter of prophetsand she is described as
abusing her power in horric ways, ways we would today label as tyrannical
or dictatorial. She is not, however, a sorcerer. Your mothers a witch and a
whore is purely an insult.
It is clear, then, that the witch and a whore trope known from lit-
erature to the east and west of Israel was present in Israelite literature as
well. Of particular interest here are the implications of Proverbs and Isaiah
drawing on the motif of womens sorcery and sexual deviance in the service
of another agenda.
20. On the Mesopotamian witchs origins before becoming associated with evil, see
Abusch, Some Reections on Mesopotamian Witchcraft, 2133, esp. 2223;
and on the juxtaposition of the evil sorceress and the ipu as her legitimate
male counterpart, see Abusch, The Demonic Image of the Witch in Standard
Babylonian Literature: The Reworking of Popular Conceptions by Learned Ex-
orcists, 2758, esp. 3139.
21. Knust, Abandoned to Lust: Sexual Slander and Ancient Christianity, 6.
seeing these divinatory activities as illicit, the authors found a natural ex-
pression for their views in the existing trope.
22. The association between false prophecy and sexual deviance is not restricted
to women. Within early Christian writing, for instance, Justin and Irenaeus
associate these traits for both men and women (ibid., 14347). As seen in the
Mesopotamian, Greek, and Israelite examples, however, the association is more
extreme with women; this trend continues.
23. Allusions to God examining kidneys as a way of gaining knowledge about peo-
ple are found in Ps 7:10 (Eng. 7:9), 26:2; Jer 11:20, 17:10, and 20:12. The meaning
of the idiom is clearGod looks into hearts and mindsbut the root of the
metaphor should not be overlooked.
1. As the reader has seen, I am skeptical about how much we can read
into the passing phrases regarding Miriam in Mic 6:4, or Noadiah in
Neh 6:14.
217
There are benets to bringing all of these traditions together that ex-
tend beyond the new picture of the scope of womens divinatory activity
and the resulting fuller picture of Israelite divination. For example, individ-
ual texts that were read previously as one-o tales can now be understood
in a new light as parts of a broader phenomenon. The stories of the necro-
mancer who divines for Saul and the prophet who divines for Josiah have
each been read as one-of-a-kind textsand to be sure, they are quite dif-
ferent in many important waysbut they also both represent traditions of
womens divination for kings, and they reveal intriguing correspondences.
Reading these two stories together not only reveals a generic relationship
between them; it also illuminates the perspectives of multiple traditions. In
both Samuel and Kings, signicant aspects of the portrayal of divination
are contrary to what one would anticipate. In the Samuel text, the necro-
mancers divination is successful, and she is not condemned; in Kings, the
prophets oracle is wrong, and there is no further commentary to mitigate
this. All of this is exactly turned on its head in Chronicles. In Chroni-
cles, all of a sudden, one of Sauls two major transgressions is visiting the
necromancer, and, in order to explain away Huldahs incorrect prophecy,
a battleeld conversation between Josiah and Neco is added. In Samuel
and Kings, it is not an issue that the necromancer is successful or that the
prophet is not. The Chronicler makes the prophet look better than she does
in the Deuteronomistic History, and makes the necromancer look worse,
demonstrating a concern with judging these types of divination that the
Samuel and Kings texts do not. So we learn not only about some features
of womens divinatory activity from examining these texts side by side, but
even gain additional insight into the concerns of several dierent narrators.
Another benet of bringing together the many traditions of womens
divination is that certain patterns may rise to the surface. I have written at
length elsewhere about one surprising pattern: very few of the titled female
diviners are said to have children. This stands in stark contrast to divining
men, who are described as having a range of family circumstances, as well
as to the majority of other female characters in the Bible, including women
whose ospring are not particularly relevant to their stories. I am not
2. Hamori, The Prophet and the Necromancer: Womens Divination for Kings,
82743.
3. Hamori, Childless Female Diviners in the Bible and Beyond, 16991.
claiming that actual female diviners could not be mothers, but that there
is a strong literary pattern of not portraying titled female diviners as also
having children. In each individual case, this could be explained away: what
is signicant is the pattern of the absence of children through the literary
portrayals of virtually all of the titled female diviners in biblical texts. (The
exception is the prophet who bears a sign-child as a prophetic symbolic
action.) The literary construction of female diviners in the Hebrew Bible
seems to reect a discomfort with the intersection of traditional female
roles and prophetic and other divinatory roles. Most women with special
access to divine knowledge are depicted as living outside of other social
norms as well. Historical and anthropological evidence suggests that the
association in biblical literature between unusual access to the spirit world
and non-normative social position conforms to observable social reality.
This is expressed in a variety of ways in dierent cultural contexts, from
the social location of shamans in many environments to the celibate male
priesthood of Catholicism. As seen in women in particular, the relationship
between special knowledge and fringe status is often expressed through the
lack of children. There are manifold examples of this in the ancient, me-
dieval, and modern worlds, as seen in literary creations, historical records,
and anthropological studies. Given the vast complexities of cross-cultural
comparison, let alone comparison including ancient and medieval literature
and modern anthropological evidence, I will not attempt to summarize the
evidence here. The cautious conclusion I draw from the amassed evidence
is that the pattern evident in the Hebrew Bible is unlikely to be coinciden-
tal. Whether this literary depiction was a conscious choice on the part of
any of the writers is impossible to judge. Whether such portrayals reected
the realities of life on the groundthat is, whether titled female diviners
actually tended to be childlessis also beyond our ability to conclude based
dreamers and dream interpreters. Among literary works, I have already dis-
cussed the roles of Ninsun, Nane, and Getinanna as dream interpreters;
Etanas wife dreams at the beginning and end of the Late Version of the
story; in the Hittite story of Kessi, the unsuccessful hunter asks his mother
to interpret his dreams; and in postbiblical interpretation, Miriam becomes
a dreamer. Among texts relating to historical divination, many women from
Mari report their dreams, and as discussed earlier in relation to Rebekahs
independent divination, in one Mari letter, one woman named Zunana
both reports her dream and interprets it, instructing Zimri-Lim in how to
proceed accordingly (ARM 26 232). Within the Bible, however, women are
never said to receive or interpret dreams. This is surprising, since dreaming
is a form of divination that does not require political power in Israel, a role
as a titled religious authority, or a place among the scribal elite. Dream-
ing is thus a way of receiving messages from Yahweh that is particularly
accessible to foreigners, for example: God is said to give messages to Abi-
melech (Gen 20:3), the Pharaoh (Gen 41:25), and Nebuchadnezzar (Dan
2:45) in their dreams. One might therefore expect this also to be a form of
divination particularly accessible to women, and yet no women are said to
have dreams. Plural references to dreamers may include women as well as
men, but the absence of any clear reference to a woman having a dream is
surprising.
As I noted at the outset, the question of who has access to divine
knowledge and who does not permeates biblical traditions, from texts
reecting on the divine choice of David over Saul, to those contrasting
Aarons works, which stem from direct divine instruction, with the Egyp-
tians inferior magic. This issue relates both to individuals in biblical texts
and to groups. One might expect, then, that such a perspective would lter
through the texts relating to womens divination. However, to whatever ex-
tent some biblical texts reect a concern with formulating Israelite identity
in relation to the Other, and sometimes specically Israelite male iden-
tity with women implicitly as Other, this is not an attitude that character-
izes the texts that portray womens divination. There are some dierences,
naturallysuch as the presence of pregnancy- and birth-related divination,
5. The Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar require Joseph and Daniel to interpret for
them, so by my reading (as delineated in ch. 1), these rulers are not engaging in
divination themselves. However, in both cases, the interpreter says that God is
the one who has communicated to the ruler in his dream.
the absence of dreaming, the absence of children mentioned for virtually all
of the titled female diviners, and the rst hints of an association between
womens divination and sexual deviancebut the overall picture is not
shaped by a gender-based distinction between mens and womens access
to divine knowledge. The breadth of womens divinatory activities and the
range of attitudes toward them are not unlike those for men.
The recognition of the sibling relationship of all forms of divination,
and the application of this framework to the study of womens divinatory
activity in biblical traditions, brings into focus a picture of both men and
women striving to access divine knowledge in a multitude of ways. Exam-
ining traditions of divination, without privileging one type over another,
should enable us to establish connections and commonalities where they
had not been seen, and to shed false distinctions and divisions where they
had been. My hope is that this work demonstrates the spectrum of ideas
regarding womens many divinatory activities, and eshes out our picture of
the breadth of Israelite divination.
6. Perhaps the next scholar will treat another group that is in many ways framed
as Other, and consider for example the presentations of the divinatory activities
of foreigners. This could include a complex intersection of categories: foreign
nations, foreign characters, individuals considered foreign to a specic tradi-
tion (even such as an Israelite to a Judahite), and so on. On the one hand, when
certain types of divination are considered illicit, they are often associated with
foreign groups; on the other hand, when it comes to specic foreign characters,
there is more variation in the portrayals. How might such work color our views
of biblical traditions attitudes toward dierent groups? Will they often be found
to run the gamut, as attitudes toward womens divination do?
225
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260
Most words and phrases are listed in the forms in which they appear most
frequently in the text and notes.
270