Passion,
Vitality, and Foment. The Dynamics of
Second Temple Judaism
A Response by Ralph W. Klein
Monday, November 24, 2003
The Festschrift under discussion
bids us pay attention to the voices of postexilic, Second Temple
Jerusalem. As Walter Harrelson reminds us, “The Jewish
community has rarely undervalued this period and its literature. Until recently, the Christian community has
rarely failed to do so.” The resurgence of Jewish and especially
Christian scholars’ interest in this field owes a great deal to the unique voice of our honoree. I would like to honor that uniqueness tonight. During the last four or five years, as I have
worked on the New Interpreter’s Bible and the New Interpreter’s Study Bible, I
would occasionally receive a phone call from one of my editors, that would
begin, “Ralph, this is Walter Harrelson.”
If he would have said, “Ralph, this is George Bush,” or “Ralph, this is
the Ayatollah Khomeini,” I would have known exactly what to say, “Hello,
Walter.”
Walter’s
unique voice has often called for a corrective to the caricatures of this period
or to the inattention to this period provided by seminary curricula. The literature of this period calls for a
maintenance of the balance between particularism and universalism, or, to put it
differently, to take up the responsibilities of particularism in a universal
vision. As Paul Hanson reminded us some
years ago, we Jews and Christians are “the people called,” called by a God who
says, Blessed be Egypt,
my people, Blessed be Assyria, the work of my hands, and
Blessed be Israel,
my heritage.
St.
Paul once referred to the Corinthians as his letters
of recommendation (2 Cor 3:2-3). That
surely applies to the ten epistles written by Walter’s students in this
volume. Jon Berquist, who is to be
congratulated for his own recent appointment as senior religion editor at
Westminster John Knox, reminds us that religion, then and now, is also a matter of sociology, economics,
and politics. For some seventy years
Jews in Babylon and Jerusalem
remained faithful to their heritage without a temple, and the eventual
construction of the Second Temple
was a win-win situation for folks in the colony of Yehud as well as their
imperial overlords. The Persian
empire paid for the construction of the temple, that would become
a place for sacrificial worship for Jews, a base of operations for political
administration (Nehemiah 13), and a storage place for grain for the Persian
army, that would soon be on its way to recapture Egypt. 521 BCE was the year in which preparations
began for feeding the Persian army in its two year march from Mesopotamia
to the land of the Nile; in the same year Yehud started
temple construction. The slow decline of
Persia, begun
already during the reign of Xerxes, cut off resources for the Jerusalem
temple, and Malachi at once urged the laity to contribute first class animals
for temple sacrifice and chastised the priests for their too-easy willingness to
accept animals of second class status just to get income. Priests and laity were held accountable to
Torah; and the priesthood was soon seen as not the only way to follow God
through the Torah. Life in early Second
Temple times was life on the
pluralistic edge. Politically, one tried
to profit from participation in the empire while also experiencing the
oppression of the imperial power and the daily impact of its suzerainty. Culturally one was on the edge too, caught
between the contrasting ideologies and economic systems of Israelite, Babylonian,
Egyptian, Persian, Greek and Roman cultures.
One is tempted to draw analogies to the challenges to fidelity today as
one is caught up in our own pluralisms, but to remind ourselves that we in
synagogue and church may compare ourselves to the community in Yehud, but with
this crucial exception: We are the imperial power. I still remember a student sermon of
thirty-five years ago on Isaiah 14, that called attention to the cheers there
that went up in that chapter originally for the fall of Assyria,
and also reminded us that now, for a majority of people in the world today, the
United States
is Assyria.
John
Endres has done much planting, sowing and reaping in the scholarly field I call
home, and his article calls attention to joyful worship in the Second
Temple period, reflected in stories
about past events, when David brought the ark to Jerusalem,
when Solomon dedicated the temple, and when Jehoshaphat faced a threat from
armed forces to his east. The king’s
prayer and fasting evidence a strong expression of human soul-searching and complete
surrender to God. One might easily add other
liturgical occasions of joy in Chronicles, such as Josiah’s Passover. The book of Kings had reported that event in
three verses; the Chronicler expands the description six fold. If Kings celebrated this event as the
crowning achievement of Josiah’s centralization of the cult, the Chronicler’s
expansion of the story strives to show what would make Passover celebration authentic
and meaningful for his own day. The
Levites who once carried the ark have graduated to major roles in the
liturgical performance but have also been assigned the duty of instructing
people in the Torah. The king
contributed 33,000 animals, the chief officers of the temple 2,900 animals, and
the chiefs of the Levites 5,500 animals. Liturgical correctness was joined to lavish
generosity as marks of Second temple worship.
The seven last words of the people of God—we’ve never done it that way
before—are clearly no modern discovery. Twelve times in his Passover account
the Chronicler appeals to the authority of Moses, David, Solomon, and Josiah
himself in his passion for the vitality and foment of the changed worship of
his day.
Finally,
as Walter Harrelson reminds us so fervently, mother Zion
in the literature of this period welcomes all worshipers and requires no
special utensils or offerings to be brought along. She offers the ultimate critique of
communities that set up barriers to keep out the “undesirable.” Mother Zion is simply ready to receive her
children because they are her
children.
Walter: ad multos annos!