Saint Jerome Had Noted The Resemblance Of Tobit To Homer's Odyssey

See our:

 

Was Homer’s “Odyssey” Based on the Hebrew Books of

Job and Tobit?

 

http://bookofjob-amaic.blogspot.com.au/2009/03/was-homers-odyssey-based-on-hebrew.html

 
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The Wide World of Tobit

The Apocrypha’s Tobit and Literary Tradition
 

by Patrick Henry Reardon

Tobit is a short book. Indeed, Jerome tells us that translating it into  Latin   cost him only “the labor of one day.”1 It should be remarked,    however, that this small book belongs in a big world, with a rich and very wide   cultural setting.
I like to think of the Book of Tobit as a kind of universal essay, in the    sense that its author makes considerable effort to place his brief, rather  simple   narrative within a literary, historical, and moral universe of  surprising breadth   and diversity, extending through the Fertile Crescent and  out both sides. To   find comparable dimensions of such large cultural exposure  among biblical authors,   one would have to go to Ezekiel, Luke, or the narrator  of Job.
It is the intention of the present article to indicate and outline several    aspects of the Book of Tobit that join the work to other streams of literary    history. These aspects, which include a fairly wide range of themes, images,    and historical references, will serve to link Tobit to three bodies of  literature   in particular: the Bible; the larger world of Near and Middle  Eastern religious   philosophy, history, and literature; and the tradition of  Christian exegesis   down through the Latin Middle Ages.
 
Tobit and the Bible
The world of Tobit is, first of all, the world of biblical literature and    history. Not only does the book provide an elaborate description of the  religious   deterioration of the Northern Kingdom in the eighth century, and  then the deportation   and consequent social conditions2 of those  tribes after 722, but it   explicitly quotes a prophet of that century, Amos,  and makes reference (14:4)   to the preaching of Jonah at Nineveh.3 Tobit thus presupposes the history   narrated in Kings, Chronicles, and the  eighth-century prophets.
Tobit’s explicit reference to Jonah is of considerable interest in the    light of certain affinities between the two books. First and second, both  stories   take place about the same time (the eighth century) and both in  Mesopotamia.   Third, both accounts involve a journey. Fourth, the distressed  Tobit, like Jonah,   prays to die. Fifth and most strikingly, his son Tobias  encounters a fish that   attempts—with less success than Jonah’s fish—to swallow  him!   Finally, in each book the fish serves as a special instrument of Divine  Providence.
Besides Jonah, Tobit shows several remarkable affinities to the Book of Job,   some of which were noted rather early in Christian exegesis. For example, the   title characters of both works shared a zeal for purity of life, almsgiving,    and other deeds of charity (Job 1 and 31; Tobit 1–2), patient endurance   of  trials sent by God,4 a deep weariness of life itself (Job 7:15;   Tobit  3:6), a final vindication by the Lord at the end of each book, and perhaps    even a common hope of the resurrection.5 As early as Cyprian in the    third century, it was also noted that both men were similarly mocked by wives    unable to appreciate their virtue and faith in God.6
Moreover, the book’s description of long-suffering Sarah, whose seven    husbands all died on their wedding night, carries on another major theme of    Holy Scripture: the barren woman, of which the elder Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel,    Hannah, and Elizabeth are better known examples. Indeed, the mockery that the    younger Sarah receives from her maids in this regard readily puts one in mind    of Hagar’s attitude toward the older Sarah, as well as Peninnah’s   unkind  treatment of Hannah at the beginning of First Samuel.7
The moral teaching of Tobit is also of a piece with the covenantal ethics    of the Bible generally. For example, its prohibition against marrying outsiders   in 4:12f. reflects the strict view of Ezra and Nehemiah (and, down the road,    1 Corinthians 7).8 Then, in the very next verse is found the mandate    about prompt payment of the laborer’s salary, which is clearly based on    Leviticus 19:13 and Deuteronomy 24:14f. And so forth. The moral teaching of    Tobit shows endless parallels with both the Torah and Israel’s Wisdom    tradition, and its solicitude for social justice and service is at one with    the teaching of the eighth-century prophets. No matter what is to be said  relative   to its canonical status, the setting, imagery, and moral doctrine of  Tobit is   of a piece with the rest of our biblical literature.
 
The Larger World
Even when the Book of Tobit most closely touches the other biblical  literature,   however, it sometimes does so along lines reminiscent of, and  running parallel   to, more extensive traditions outside the Bible.
An obvious and rather large example is the “Golden Rule” in Tobit   4:15,  “Do not do to anyone what you yourself hate.” Not only does   this prohibition  substantially contain the biblical command to love one’s   neighbor as oneself;9 not only, furthermore, does it stand   in canonical  continuity with the more positive formulation of the same Golden   Rule  preserved in the Gospels;10 it is also the equivalent to an ideal    found in other ethical philosophies. These latter include Greek authors like    Herodotus and Isocrates11 and even classical Confucianism.12   This use of the Golden Rule thus assured Tobit a featured place in the entire    history of religion and moral philosophy.13
A similar assessment is true, I believe, concerning the way that Tobit  develops   the religious symbolism of the journey. Obviously that motif had long  been part   of the Bible, particularly in those sections associated with the  Exodus wandering   and the return from Babylon,14 but it was a topic  not limited to the   Bible. Back near the beginning of the second millennium  B.C., the Mesopotamian    Gilgamesh Epic had inchoatively explored the  religious symbolism of   the journey, and that exploration would continue down  through some of our greatest   literature: the Odyssey, of course,  diverse accounts of Jason and the   Argonauts, the Aeneid, etc., and  eventually the Divine Comedy,   itself inspired by all of them. In a  more secular form the journey imagery continued   with such works as the  Endymion of Keats,15 even after it   had been assumed within  the ascetical literature of the Church as xeneteia,   conceived as both  exile and pilgrimage. A classical example of the latter use   is found in Step 3  of The Ladder of Divine Ascent by St. John of Mount   Sinai.
The resemblance of Tobit to the Odyssey in particular was not lost   on that great student of literature, Jerome, as is evident in a single detail    of his Latin translation of Tobit in the Vulgate. Intrigued by the literary    merit of Tobit, but rejecting its canonicity, the jocose and sometimes prankish    Jerome felt free to insert into his version an item straight out of the  Odyssey—namely,   the wagging of the dog’s tail on arriving home with Tobias in  11:9—Tunc   praecucurrit canis, qui simul fuerat in via, et quasi nuntius  adveniens blandimento   suae caudae gaudebat—“Then the dog, which had been  with them   in the way, ran before, and coming as if it had brought the news,  showed his   joy by his fawning and wagging his tail.”16 No other  ancient   version of Tobit mentions either the tail or the wagging, but Jerome,  ever the   classicist, was confident his readers would remember the faithful but  feeble   old hound Argus, as the final act of his life, greeting the return of  Odysseus   to the home of his father: “he endeavored to wag his tail”  (Odyssey   17.302). And to think that we owe this delightful gem to  Jerome’s rejection   of Tobit’s canonicity!
Thus, when young Tobias made his trip to Ecbatana and then, like Odysseus,    journeyed back to the home of his father, he traveled with a vast company of    classical pilgrims. He was neither the first nor the last to decide: “I   will  arise and return to my father.” On that trip, moreover, Tobias enjoyed   the  fellowship of an angel and a dog, symbolically representing the two worlds   of  spirits and beasts, both associated with Paradise and both mysteriously joined    together in the human being that they accompany.17
Furthermore, some readers have found in Tobit similarities to still other    pagan themes, such as the legend of Admetus.18 More convincing, I  believe,   however, are points of contact with classical Greek theater. Martin  Luther observed   similarities between Tobit and Greek comedy,19 but  one is even more   impressed by resemblances that the Book of Tobit bears to a  work of Greek tragedy—the    Antigone of Sophocles. In both stories the  moral stature of the heroes   is chiefly exemplified in their bravely burying  the dead in the face of official   prohibition and at the risk of official  punishment. In both cases a venerable   moral tradition is maintained against a  political tyranny destructive of piety.   That same Greek drama, moreover,  provides a further parallel to the blindness   of Tobit in the character of  blind Teiresias, himself also a man of an inner   moral vision important to the  theme of the play.
Bearing just as obvious a connection with non-biblical literature, I  believe,   is the demon Asmodeus (Tobit 3:8), who is doubtless to be identified,  on purely   morphological grounds, with Aeshma Daeva, a figure well known in  ancient Iranian   religion.20 Moreover, Tobit’s nephew Ahikar (1:22) is  certainly   identical with a literary character of the same name, time, place,  and circumstances,   found in the Elephantine papyri from the late fifth century  B.C.21   In short, whatever may be the case relative to questions of  historical dependency,   Tobit’s cultural contacts with the ancient world of  religion, philosophy,   and literature are numerous and varied.
 
The History of Exegesis
And this consideration brings me to what I suggest is a major question of    the Book of Tobit: How does a loyal servant of God live in this very big and    complex world? How does one spiritually survive, and even thrive, in   this world, without being of this world? The preoccupation of Tobit    is, I submit, moral and ascetical. It is a book about how the loyal servant   of  God must live.
In this respect, it is instructive to observe that early Christian exegesis   of the Book of Tobit was of a predominantly moral and ascetical interest. With   very few exceptions, patristic interpretation of Tobit was straightforward and   literal, with relatively little, and hardly any sustained, appeal to hidden    symbolisms. The longest extant patristic work devoted to Tobit, that of Ambrose   of Milan, exemplifies this approach convincingly. After drawing attention to    the major moral features of Tobit’s character, Ambrose devotes the rest   of his  discourse to a robust condemnation of avarice and usury.22 That   is to  say, Ambrose went to Tobit almost exclusively for moral teaching.
To be sure, a modest measure of patristic exegesis of Tobit was allegorical,   in the sense of finding hidden references to the mysteries of the Christian    faith. For example, attention was sometimes drawn to Tobias’s fish, whose    various body parts were used to remedy the problems of the family. Given the    common and widespread Christological symbolism of the fish (ichthys)    among believers, it was virtually inevitable that Tobias’s fish, too,   who  quite literally gave his life for the family, should be regarded as a  foreshadowing   of the Savior. This symbolism is found in the fourth century,  first in the mural   iconography of the Roman catacombs23 and then in a  few literary references.24
Similarly, Isidore of Seville believed that young Tobias, inasmuch as he  healed   his parent’s blindness, “had an image of Christ.”25   Nonetheless, such recourse to allegorical symbolism to interpret the Book of    Tobit was relatively rare among earlier Christian writers.
This assessment, however, does not hold true for the Latin writers of the    Middle Ages. The highly detailed commentary of Venerable Bede26 is    the example that comes first to mind. To leave Ambrose’s fairly sober,    subdued, and straightforward remarks on Tobit and then turn to Bede’s    elaborate interpretation of the same book is something on the order of moving    to another planet. In Bede’s commentary, not even the most minute item   in the  Tobit narrative is without its hidden doctrinal significance, to be ferreted    out by a rich imagination.
Bede’s approach was followed by other medieval exegetes who turned their    very creative fancies loose on the book: Walafrid Strabo, Hugh of St. Victor,    and Isaac of Stella.27 At their hands, the Book of Tobit became a rich   mother-lode of hidden Christology, soteriology, ecclesiology, sacramentology,    and so forth.
These medieval interpreters certainly present us with a whole new  hermeneutic   world. One may legitimately question, however, whether it is any  longer the   world of Tobit. Indeed, in these medieval works the overwhelmingly  moral interest   of Tobit’s universe is hardly touched at all, so that the major  preoccupation   of the book—how does the servant of God live in this  world?—becomes   almost entirely lost. This is my chief objection to the  approach taken to the   Book of Tobit among medieval Latin exegetes.
Since his Glossa Ordinaria became a link between Bede and later  medieval   writers, Walafrid Strabo may be particularly cited by way of  illustration. Strabo   begins his interpretation of Tobit by observing,  correctly enough, that the   book “abounds in the greatest examples and  exhortations of the moral life,”28   but then he goes on to explain the  book in great detail without a single scrap   of moral or ascetical teaching.  Tobit’s principal message and concern   thus become hopelessly dispersed in  considerations alien to the book.
It is my persuasion that the message of Tobit should begin with a proper  analysis   of its moral message exactly as it appears at the literary level,  without recourse   to hidden symbolisms that its author himself could scarcely  have suspected and   that float, in fact, without sufficient grounding in  ancient patristic and liturgical   texts.
This is not to say that Tobit should be interpreted apart from the biblical   canon (whatever one holds about its canonical status) or from the context of    Christian theology. Indeed, I maintain the very opposite thesis—namely,   that  Tobit (and, for that matter, all other biblical literature handed down   in the  Tradition of the Church) should be read and understood within that double    interpretive context of Canon and Christology. I believe, nonetheless, that    this approach is best made on the basis of Tobit’s literal meaning, the    meaning it has as moral literature, not fanciful symbolisms unsustained in  either   biblical, patristic, or liturgical testimonies.
Having now placed Tobit within literary history, I propose, in a subsequent   article to be published in these pages, to explore further the book’s   great  moral message and its importance in the Christian life.

Notes:

1. Jerome, Praefatio in Librum Tobiae (PL 29.26A). Among Latin  writers    Jerome stands very much alone, and even eccentric, in his denial of  canonicity   to the Book of Tobit. It was cited somewhat less often by the Greek  Fathers   than by the Latins, however, the question of its canonicity being more  complex   and protracted in the East. This questioned canonicity of Tobit also  accounts   for the unparalleled freedom that copyists took in the transmission  of the text.   We have received Tobit in two major manuscript traditions so  disparate that   Rahlfs’s standard edition of the Septuagint prints them  separately. Because   I will frequently refer to them, I take this occasion to  identify the two earliest   extant manuscripts, both of them from early  fourth-century Egypt: the Codex   Vaticanus (hereafter B) and the Codex  Sinaiticus (hereafter S). Because of its   importance to Latin writers, I will  also refer often to Tobit’s Vulgate   text, translated by Jerome from both Greek  and Aramaic sources.
2. Origen early recognized Tobit’s value as a source of historical and    sociological information on the period; cf. Epistola ad Africanum 12     (Bibliotheke Hellenon Pateron [hereafter BHP, followed by volume and    page numbers] 16.359f.).
3. Thus in B and Vulgate; also see Jerome, In Jonam (PL 25.1119A).   S here says Nahum.
4. Job and Tobit were thus compared by Augustine, De Divinis  Scripturis   28 (Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum [hereafter CSEL with   volume and page numbers] 12.436); Ambrosiaster,  Quaestiones Veteris et Novi   Testamenti 99.2 (CSEL 50.191); in the  Latin Middle Ages, Bernard of Clairvaux,    Sententiae 2.25  (Opera, Vol. 6/2, Rome: Editiones Cistercienses,   1972, p. 31); and  still later, John of the Cross, Llama de Amor Viva   2.28 (Obras  Completas, Madrid: BAC, 1991, pp. 960f.).
5. Job 19:23–27; Tobit 2:18 in the Vulgate. Paulinus of Nola commented    that Tobit’s burial of the dead manifested “a holy and sanctified   hope”;  Epistolae 13.4 (PL 61.209–210).
6. Cyprian, De Mortalitate 10 (PL 4.588); among the Greeks,  Asterios   Sophistes, In Psalmos 4.4 (BHP 37.170); among medieval  Latins, Peter   Comestor, Historia Libri Tobiae 1 (PL 198.1433C); and  Peter Damien,    Sermones 4.5 (Corpus Christianorum, Continuatio  Medievalis   [hereafter CCM with volume and page numbers] 57.20).
7. This resemblance was likewise remarked by Cyprian, Testimoniorum   Libri 1.20 (PL 4.688–689).
8. Again, cf. Cyprian, Testimoniorum Libri 3.62 (PL 4.767–768).
9. Leviticus 19:18; Matthew 5:43; 19:19; 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 6:27;  Romans   12:17–19; Galatians 5:14; James 2:8.
10. Matthew 7:12; Luke 6:31.
11. Herodotus, Histories 3.142; Isocrates, Niklokles 61.
12. Cf. Ku Hung Ming, The Conduct of Life: A Translation of the Doctrine   of the Mean, London: John Murray, 1906, p. 26.
13. Tobit’s form of the Golden Rule was maintained, not only in the    apocryphal (e.g., Ps.-Aristeas, Epistle to Philocrates 207) and  rabbinical   traditions (e.g., Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 31a;  Targum Yerushalmi   I of Leviticus 19:18), but also in Christian  sources as diverse as the    Didache 1.2 (BHP 2.215); the Coptic  Gospel of Thomas 6; the    Apostolic Constitutions 1 (BHP  2.6); Clement of Alexandria, Stromateis   2.22 (BHP 7.359); Didymus the  Blind, De Spiritu Sancto 39 (PG 39.1068);   John Chrysostom,  Homiliae de Statuis 13.3 (PG 49.140); Augustine, Sermones   in  Vetus Testamentum 9.14f. (Corpus Christianorum, Series Latina   [hereafter CCL with volume and page numbers] 41.135f.); Gregory the Great,  Moralia   in Job 6.35.54 (CCL 143.323); 10.6.6 (539); and, from the  Latin Middle   Ages, Peter Damien, Sermones 14.9 (CCM 57.69); Stephen  of Grandmont,    Regula 28 (CCM 8.83); and Isaac of Stella,  Sermones 3.3 (PL   194.1698A); 31.6 (1791B). Among later ascetical  writers in the East, there is   Paisy Velichkovsky, Field Flowers 23  (Little Russian Philokalia,   Vol. 4, The Brotherhood of St. Herman of  Alaska, 1994, p. 87.). Sometimes Christians   have spontaneously juxtaposed  Tobit’s negative form with the positive   form from the Gospels; e.g.,  Barsanuphius and John of Gaza, Letters   687 (Correspondance, Solesmes, 1971, p. 442); and the anonymous eleventh-century   Mont-Saint-Michel  manuscript, Expositio ad Galatas 5.14 (CCM 151.202).
14. In the New Testament, the journey motif will play a structural role, not   only in Luke-Acts, but also in Mark 8–10.
15. Cf. Andrès Rodríguez, The Book of the Heart: The Poetics,   Letters,  and Life of John Keats, Hudson, N.Y.: Lindisfarne Press, 1993,   pp.  44ff.
16. Douay-Challoner translation of the Vulgate.
17. Angels and beasts are also the companions of Jesus in the desert; see    Mark 1:13 along with the comment of Euthymius Zigabenus, In Marcum   (PG 129.776C). Particularly in our hagiography, this motif of angelic and animal   companionship is ubiquitous. Cf. Joanne Stephanatos, Animals and Man: A    State of Blessedness, Minneapolis: Light and Life, 1992.
18. I confess that this one is lost on me, having gone over my Apollodorus    (3.9.15) repeatedly without discerning any really convincing similarity to  Tobit.
19. Indeed, he even speculated that the Greeks borrowed from the Jews in  this   respect; cf. Luther’s Works, Volume 35 (Philadelphia: Fortress    Press, 1976), p. 345.
20. Cf. Jeffrey Burton Russell, The Devil: Perceptions of Evil from  Antiquity   to Primitive Christianity, Ithaca: Cornell University Press,  1977, pp.   215, 217.
21. A translation of “The Words of Ahiqar” is found in J. B. Pritchard,     Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament, Princeton,    1969, pp. 427–430. The story itself appears to go back to Mesopotamia   at least  a century earlier. I hazard passing remarks here on two curious features:   (1)  this text is narrated, like the opening chapters of Tobit, in the first    person; (2) the plan to kill a eunuch slave in place of Ahikar, so that the    latter could later be restored to favor (p. 428, left column), most certainly     does bear comparison to the Admetus legend.
22. Ambrose, De Tobia (PL 14.759–794). Not one paragraph in   ten  of this work is allegorical. See also Ambrose’s simple remarks on   Tobit in  Epistolae 19.5 (PL 16.984A), later echoed by Salvian of Marseilles,     Adversus Avaritiam 2.4 (PL 53.193B).
23. Cf. Henri Leclercq, “Tobie,” Dictionnaire d’Archéologie   Chrétienne  et de Liturgie, Vol. 15, Paris: Letouzey, 1953, cols.   2418–2420.
24. Optatus of Mileve in Numedia, De Schismate Donatistarum 3.2 (PL   11.991); and the anonymous De Promissionibus et Praedictionibus Dei   2.39 (PL 51.816).
25. “Christi imaginem habuit”—Allegoriae Quaedam Scripturae    Sacrae 123 (PL 83.116A).
26. Venerable Bede, Interpretatio in Librum Tobiae (PL 91.923–938).   Cf. the analysis of Bede’s exegesis of Tobit by Johann Gamberoni, Die    Auslegung des Buches Tobias, Munich: Kösel, 1969, pp. 107–123.
27. Walafrid Strabo, Glossa Ordinaria (PL 113.725–732); Hugh   of  St. Victor, Allegoriae in Vetus Testamentum 9.2 (PL 175.737–744);    Isaac of Stella, Sermones 7.11–14 (PL 194.1715). I cite only   those  writers that I know first-hand. For other examples, see Gamberoni, op.    cit., pp. 124–146.
28. Strabo, op. cit. (PL 113.725B).

The substance of this article appeared in Epiphany in  1996.

Read more:  http://www.touchstonemag.com/archives/article.php?id=12-02-036-f#ixzz2f1euwlrb

A New Elijah A New Jeremiah



Taken from: www.splendorofthetruth.org/.../Advent_C_2_-_Baptist.338114608.doc

2^ndSunday of Advent, Year C

The New Jeremiah

The greatest danger to Christians today is a type of familiarity with our faith that breeds contempt. We know about the miracles that God worked in the past, we know about the prophecies of Christ fulfilled in Scripture, and we know about the workings of the Holy Spirit in us and in the Church today.But sometimes we say “so what?” We grow bored with the drama of salvation history, and we do not see how God affects our lives. Boredom and contempt have led Christians to give up their faith and embrace strange new religions that keep them entertained with lies.

If we would only read what the Scriptures really say! If we would only study what has really happened in history! We would see the ingenious and awe-inspiring plan of God carried out to the smallest detail in the life of every human being on the planet, including each of us. We would be ecstatic with His plan to transform us into living reflections of his glory and power like the very angels in heaven by sanctifying us with his own Holy Spirit through our sacramental life in the Church.

And we would appreciate the earth-shattering appearance of St. John the Baptist today. What began almost 900 years earlier with Elijah finishes with John, who is the last and greatest of the prophets. Elijah appeared suddenly from nowhere, wearing rough clothing and rebuking King Ahab and his wicked wife Jezebel. John the Baptist also appears suddenly in the desert, wearing rough clothing and rebuking King Herod and his wicked wife Herodias.

But if we look deeper into God’s plan, we will be even more amazed by the similarities between St. John the Baptist and another prophet.Over 600 years before John lived Jeremiah. Jeremiah was a priest of the old covenant, born of a priestly family, though it seems he never served in the Temple.John was also a priest, born of his priestly father Zechariah, though he too never served in the Temple. At the start of the Book of the prophet Jeremiah, God tells him “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born, I sanctified you and made you a prophet to the nations” (Jeremiah 1:5).J ohn was sanctified by Christ in the womb before he was born, which caused him to leap for joy in his mother Elizabeth’s womb, and he became Christ’s own prophet to prepare the way. Both Jeremiah and John never married because of the difficult days ahead, and indeed, both of them were imprisoned by wicked kings and executed by their own people: John by beheading, and Jeremiah by being stoned to death. John is not only a new Elijah come to convert Israel; he is a new Jeremiah.

And if we look deeper still, we see that John shares more than outward characteristics with Jeremiah. John also completes the final work of Jeremiah. Jeremiah lived at the end of a kingdom. In his last days, Babylon was threatening to destroy the Kingdom of Judah and everything holy to the Chosen people. So Jeremiah commanded the people to hide three sacred items to preserve their bond with God before they fled into Egypt. He commanded them to take the holy fire from the altar in the Temple and to keep it burning secretly, to keep the Law of God hidden within their hearts by refusing to worship idols, and to hide the Arc of the Covenant, the seat of God’s living presence among them (see 2 Maccabees 2:1-7).

600 years later, St. John the Baptist is living at the beginning of a Kingdom—the Kingdom of God which he is heralding. The time has come to reveal those three sacred items hidden by Jeremiah—to complete his work—so that God can recreate a holy people. The holy fire from the altar consumed all offerings, giving them forever to God. John reveals to the people that the Christ will baptize them with the Holy Spirit and fire.The Holy Spirit will consume the faithful, body and soul, like offerings, giving them forever to God through baptism.

The Law of God taught the people how they ought to live. By his teaching, John reveals to the crowds how they ought to live, and prepares them for the Lawgiver himself, Jesus Christ. Finally, the Arc of the Covenant was literally a seat or throne for God in the Temple. The Holy of Holies was the room that held the Arc, which was God’s living presence among the Chosen people. John reveals to the people the real, living presence of God among them as one of them: the true man and true God, Jesus Christ himself.

Is this all blind coincidence? Of course not! This is God’s plan from the beginning! St. John the Baptist, the last and greatest of the prophets, the new Elijah, the new Jeremiah, is completing Jeremiah’s final work so the Kingdom of God can begin.

As Advent continues, we will hear about miracles and prophesies. We will hear about the ingenious and awe-inspiring plan of God which involves each one of us here. Let the Scriptures inspire you! Let human history inspire you! See God’s plan with fresh eyes, and be filled with joy that he has chosen to transform you into a reflection of His own glory—into a son or daughter of God!

Rev. Eric Culler

Does Isaiah 42 refer to the Prophet Mohammed?

 

Submitted on 2013/06/29 at 3:23 am

The question that most of us ask now, arose before during the time of Muhammad s.a.w; preaching the words of God onto Arabia. Was Muhammad mentioned? This was the question by inhabitants of Arabia towards Jews that embraced Islam. And if we refer to the claim by past Jewish converts, they had quote verses from Isaiah 42.

And if we look at the passages in Isaiah. God address His chosen servants with their names, and in the prophesied verse we see God mention clearly the prophet’s name. Some examples of God mentioning His servant by name.

(My Servant Isaiah, My Servant Eliakim, David My Servant, Jacob My Servant, My Servant Israel, and so in Isaiah 42:1 , God specifically mention My Servant Ahmad)

In Isaiah 42:1, it is deemed not a coincidence upon seeing the writing of both אתמך (Atmc) אחמד (Ahmd). And the word before אתמך (Atmc), is עבדי (Abedi~My Servant). For indeed, it is indicating Ahmad; Abedallah (Ahmad; Servant of God).

Not to mention אתמך (Atmc) happen to be a special term foretelling the coming of a righteous man and is used only ONCE throughout the entire Book. [could this be a copying error or an intended error?]

~~
 The prophecy tells about Ahmad; ‘Servant of God’ whom will war to correct the wrongs and bringing judgement based on the law of God. He will liberate act of worshiping molten images and thus Arabia (wilderness desert, villages and cities) will glorify God since then. As can be seen today, inhabitants of Arabia are worshiping,praising God and singing words of God daily.

And we continue reading Isaiah 42:18 – 25; God remind the ‘blind and deaf’ about the wrath of God towards Children of Israel, who neglect the message brought by past Servant of God.

And not to repeat; the same mistake upon the coming of the new Servant of God
....


AMAIC replies: 

Our view is that he who has become known as Mohammed was definitely, originally, an Israelite prophet. Look at the names e.g. of Tobias’s parents, Tobit (= 'Obadiah = ‘Abdiel = ‘Abdullah) and Anna, so like Mohammed’s parents, ‘Abdullah and Amina.
And this family lived in Transjordanian Hauran, biblical “Midian”, a name so like Medina.

Tobit and Tobias (= the righteous Job) were extremely holy and righteous and were even visited by an angel.
And they had a near contemporary called Nehemiah, who went to Jerusalem with the permission of the Persians.
Now this same Nehemiah re-emerges in the era of the prophet Mohammed, sent by the Persians to Jerusalem.

Don’t you think that that is strange?

Unfortunately Islam has a very poor understanding of real history and chronology. It is an historical potpourri.

Did Abraham Build the Kaaba?



Jesse Toler
 

The body of this paper will deal primarily with places and destinations, not theology or personality. I will examine the Biblical accounts of Abraham in the natural and sequential order in which they are preserved in the Bible, while I examine and compare a small sampling of the similarities and differences in the Quran and other Islamic sources. In doing so, I'll point out the several fatal contradictions in the Islamic perspective and leave the reader to determine whether the Islamic version is truth to be believed or fable created to connect a pagan Arabian shrine to the Biblical patriarch of the Israelites. I will cover the ancient evidence and promptly dismember Islamic dogma as inauthentic and based on inadequate grounds. In the end, it will be hard to ignore that the Biblical account is far more reliable and historically accurate and that the Islamic version is mere conjecture imagined in the mind of a suicidal poet of the seventh century.

Nothing is more important to the foundations and development of Islam than the re-casting of Biblical personalities into newly assigned roles as devout Muslims. Shaping Israelite patriarchs into ancient Muslims who worshiped Muhammad’s god is step one. Turning the Lord Christ into a minor image of Muhammad was step two, and worldwide conquest which wars against the soul is now a real possibility [Peter 2:11; Revelation 11:7, 12:7]. While the claims against the Bible are similar to those put forward in Mormonism, and falsified just as easily, both Muslims and non-Muslims need to be reminded that the books of the Bible are the measuring stick to evaluate the historicity and integrity of Muhammad’s often fictional portrayals of these ancient and important people.

Why did the Kaaba play a central role in Muhammad’s fantasies? While no historical facts support his claims, Muslims are seldom deterred. Islam is built upon the notion that Abraham was not only a Muslim [Q. 2:31] but that he was selected by Allah to build the Kaaba in Mecca [Q. 2:125-127], and that while doing so he established the rituals and beliefs which are the cornerstones of Islamic worship. The pagan origins and practices of the Kaaba will not be discussed here, only the patriarchal journeys and the Islamic corruption of the Bible’s texts. Muslims claim that Mecca and the Kaaba are the centers of worship for the entire world. Christians and Jews know that it is Jerusalem, where lays the chief cornerstone of Yahweh's kingdom [Psalm 102:16; I Peter 2:6]. The City of David [Zion] is mentioned nearly 50 times in the Bible as the home of God's people [Isaiah 10:24] and where the hosts will reign [Isaiah 24:23]. Are Muslims going to tell us that these references are corruptions in the texts and that Mecca was the intended city the whole time? Hardly even remotely plausible.

The Kaaba in Mecca is without equal in veneration in Islamic tradition, and had been revered by Arab pagans long before Muhammad’s birth. The Muslim religion holds that the Kaaba was built by Abraham and Ishmael after hearing a direct revelation from Allah. This seems improbable. After all, once Allah guides a people on the right course and provides a mode of conduct for worship through a chosen Prophet, Allah does not then lead them astray into confusion or an inability to see the right course [Q. 9:115]. How is it then that such a man as Abraham would be sent to Mecca to deliver the people from polytheism and build the Kaaba only to later have them fall into apostasy and disbelief, needing yet another prophet in the 7th century A.D.? Abraham being in Mecca is just not consistent with important Islamic doctrines, and a myth. For example, in Q. 2:125 the Kaaba is being purified [Ar. 'tahara'], yet in Q. 2:127 the foundation are still being raised [Ar. Rafa'a]. Depending on the traditions being reviewed, the Kaaba was built by Allah or maybe Adam or possibly Abraham. But, is it true?

Reconstructing ancient events in search for truth is never an easy task, but within the literature handed down from the earliest days, confirmed by corroborating testimony where it is available, certainty looms dreadful for Islamic claims. For example, American scholars such as Albright have discussed the groupings of people and popular migration patterns into and around cultivated areas of the Fertile Crescent, and it is nigh impossible to think that the barren wasteland of the Hijaz would be such a destination for Mesopotamian travelers. Crossing over from Ethiopian lands may be plausible, but Abraham was never in Ethiopia. General migration patters are important to consider if we are going to place the journeys of Abraham into historical context. It is very likely that many people, Abraham's troop included, traveled from Ur to Canaan via the established routes such as the Kings Highway or the International Coastal Road. It is far less likely that these same people then had any reason to travel another 700 miles south into the central Hijaz.

Respected biblical scholars have placed the journeys of the patriarchs in the Middle Bronze Age [2000-1550 B.C.] and this would include the relevant chapters in the Book of Genesis [Chapters 12-50] as well as the narrative accounts in both the Quran and Tradition of the Muslims. In this paper, I will present the narrative from the Book of Genesis, chapters twelve thru twenty-five, as those speak specifically of the travels of Abraham from his calling to his death. Let’s introduce a few of the Islamic fables first, take a close look at the Bible, then we’ll touch upon a few more Islamic myths before closing. That will complete the comparison, and the reader can decide which is believable and which is not.

One Islamic tradition holds that Abraham brought both Hagar and Ishmael to Mecca [Source: Bukhari Volume 4, Book 55, Number 584] then returned to Canaan after leaving both Hagar and her infant son in the uninhabited region of Arabia which would later serve as the ground for a building used to quarter the idols of the Kaaba. However, Sam Shamoun points out in ‘Ishmael is not the Father of Muhammad’ that eminent scholar Alfred Guillaume has written,

‘"... there is no historical evidence for the assertion that Abraham or Ishmael was ever in Mecca, and if there had been such a tradition it would have to be explained how all memory of the Old Semitic name Ishmael (which was not in its true Arabian form in Arabian inscriptions and written correctly with an initial consonant Y) came to be lost. The form in the Quran is taken either from Greek or Syriac sources." (Alfred Guillaume, Islam [Penguin Books Inc., Baltimore, 1956], pp. 61-62).

Another tradition holds that Muhammad himself is said to have told his favorite wife Aisha that, “Had not your people been still close to the pre-Islamic period of ignorance I would have dismantled the Kaaba and would have made two doors in it; one for entrance and the other for exit”. [Sahih Bukhari, Volume 1, Book 3, Number 128].

So much for the importance of the Kaaba. Yet, we are to believe that the Meccan prophet held the Kaaba in the highest esteem, and believed it had been built and rebuilt after a revelation from Allah.

Let’s examine the Bible and see what we can gather about Abraham, his journeys as agent of Yahweh among the nations and his role as a channel for God’s blessing to the world.

What does the Bible tell us of Abraham, and is it possible that he had spent time in Mecca? Let’s review the Scriptures now. The answers to all these questions lay within a survey of the Book of Genesis. Most of this is common knowledge to Christians, but by way of review, let’s go over the complete list of places Abraham traveled. A good Bible atlas would be useful to the reader. I suggest the Holman Bible Atlas but any Bible Atlas will help to put the following discussion into geographical perspective. The point of this exercise is to elucidate where Abraham did travel, in order to discover where he did not. Obviously, the Muslims will quickly claim that the Christian Scriptures are corrupted, and that we removed the parts which corroborate the worth and validity of the Islamic claims from the germane chapters of the Book of Genesis. The accusation of corruption is silly and unsupported by fact but it’s the only card Muslims have to play, so I don’t blame them for playing it. As I noted, Abraham went outside of Canaan a couple of times. However, the Bible nowhere mentions that Arabia was part of his journeys. Muslims may claim that this has been “removed” from the text, but for what reason? The text of Genesis was fixed many centuries before Islam. Why would it mention several travels outside of Canaan but remove Arabia/Mecca when neither the author (Moses) nor the Jews for many centuries would have the slightest idea about Islam? We have plenty of manuscripts from centuries before Muhammad, none of which place him in Mecca.

Born in Ur, his father Terah began his migration to Canaan [Genesis 11:21]. After Terah’s death, Abraham was called by Yahweh to continue the journey to Canaan [Genesis 12:1] where God promised to Abraham and his descendants the land inhabited by the Canaanites. Let’s note here that we are given the names of the Tribes which would be displaced to establish Abraham in the land. None of them inhabited the Hijaz. The point is, that the area in which the Ka’aba was allegedly built by Abraham was nowhere near the region where Abraham was to establish his family, so why build a temple or an altar so far from Canaan? [Genesis 12:7-8; cf. First Epistle of Clement 10:3-5 (source for I Clement)]. Soon, Abraham and his family arrived in Canaan, and drove his herds into the region of Bethel, Shechem and Moreh [Genesis 12:4-6]. After an appearance of God in Canaan, Abraham moved his house further south, into the Negev. The Negev is in Canaan, on the West side of the Dead Sea, north of the Wilderness of Zin. It is bordered on the east by Edom, and could not have possibly included the Syro-Arabian desert region further to the east, and certainly excludes the uninhabited lands surrounding Mecca 700 miles to the south.

Next, a famine struck Canaan, and Abraham sought refuge by going ‘down to Egypt’ [Genesis 12:10] and later, his son Ishmael would take an Egyptian for a wife [Genesis 21:21]. To summarize so far, Abraham had yet to travel farther south than the centers of power in Egypt. Still a long way from Mecca.

Abraham later left Egypt a wealthy man and soon separated from his nephew Lot [Genesis 13:14]. Abraham then moved to Hebron, and built an altar to Yahweh. Later, a war breaks out in the region of the Dead Sea [Genesis 14:1-24] and Abraham defeats a tyrannical king in a battle north of Damascus near Mt. Hermon [vv. 13-17] frees Lot and establishes himself as ‘blessed by the God Most High’. God then establishes His covenant with Abraham, and promises to his descendants ‘this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the River Euphrates’ [Genesis 15:18-21]. Notice by using your atlas that the boundaries for the covenant lands are not even close to Mecca or central Arabia. The river in Egypt was most likely the Wadi el-Arish. The Euphrates is in northern Syria. It makes no sense that God would tie a people to a land and the land to the people, only to draw his Prophets from someplace else.

Next we find that Abraham had been living in Canaan for ten years, traveling about Canaan as seasonal weather patterns required [Genesis 16], when he became impatient with God’s plan and took Hagar as a second 'wife'. The same Hebrew word is used in 16:3 to describe both Sarai and Hagar as wife. However, the status of Hagar is debatable. Follow this link for a fuller discussion on 'Hagar in Abraham's Household'. The Egyptian maid conceived, in Canaan, and bore Abraham's son, in Canaan. Abraham’s anxiousness to have a son caused him and his family great grief. Rather than exercising self-control and forbearance, he took a course that was a threat to his faith. While Abraham’s actions nearly lead him astray, he was not the first nor the last to doubt God’s promises. Hagar soon suffers intense humiliation at the hands of Abraham and Sarah, but at Beer-Lahai-Roi is met by the Angel of the Lord, and delivered from her plight. This event took place West of the Wadi el-Arish, in Egypt and nearly 1,000 miles from Mecca. She was most likely trying to return home to Egypt.

After the establishment of the Covenant of Circumcision, we find Abraham talking to God under the ‘holy tree of Mamre’, which is near Hebron, nearly 1,000 miles from Mecca [Book of Genesis 18:1]. Later, Abraham intercedes for Sodom, which is then destroyed for its depravity and Lot escapes to Zoar [Genesis 18:16-19:30; cf. First Epistle of Clement 11:1-2]. Outside of Zoar, Lot was the victim of a scheme concocted by his eldest daughter. Zoar was in the southern tip of the Dead Sea in the Valley of Siddim, and like every other event from the OT, a long way from Mecca. From Lot’s daughters are born the Moabites and the Ammonites, longstanding enemies of Israel and Judah. Moab and Ammon lay on the east side of the Dead Sea and later form the eastern edge of the Covenant Land. The southeastern extreme of the Covenant Land extends no farther than this and no prophets would ever be called from beyond these borders.

Following the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, we encounter Abraham in Gerar, between Kadesh and Shur. In Gerar Isaac was born, wells were dug and treaties were struck. In short, there is no reason imaginable that God would take Abraham from his wells, family and tents in Canaan and command him to raise the foundations of the Kaaba over 1,000 miles away. All of this is a death blow to the Quran’s claims to Abraham, but let’s discuss a few more Biblical passages, ending with the death and burial of Abraham in order to close the lid on Islam once and for all.

Isaac is later weaned and tension again increases between Sarah and Hagar. Sarah pleaded with Abraham to cast Hagar out, and the following morning she was given bread, a water skin and her son. She then wandered into the wasteland of Beer-Sheba, in southern Canaan [Genesis 21:8-21]. In these passages, God addresses Abraham and calls Hagar the ‘maidservant’ [Hb אמה 'amah' not ‘wife’ as in 16:3; compare the Latin Vulgate where in 21:8-12 ‘ancilla‘ is ‘maidservant’ or ‘female slave’ ]. Hagar had lost any status she may have earlier enjoyed, so her status as a wife at all can be questioned.

Before we leave Hagar to history, let me remind you of four important differences between the Bible and Quran surrounding this narrative. In the Biblical narrative, Hagar’s suffering and plight are of paramount importance to understanding the events surrounding the birth of the Promised Son. These events also give us insight into the treatment of women in the ancient Near East, which are still evident in Islam today. Hagar is the only woman in the Scriptures who is given the honor of giving a name to God, and she receives her own distinct covenant as a reward for her suffering and submission. What does the Quran say about this incredible woman who endured so much suffering? Nothing. So much for Islam honoring its pivotal women.

Eventually, Ishmael settled in the Wilderness of Paran, and took an Egyptian wife. Just where is the Wilderness of Paran, and does it, as Muslims claim, include the lands far to the south in the Hijaz? Let’s again look at our atlas. Paran is an ill-defined term in the Old Testament, suggesting that outside of it being a place on the route of the Exodus [Numbers 12:16], the region had very little geographical or theological importance to the Israelites. There is no prophetic scripture suggesting that a prophet would come from the Wilderness of Paran, nor a promise of prophetic license promised to Hagar or her descendants [Gen 16:7-16]. It is also worth noting that God spoke to Hagar, never to Ishmael. Very curious.

Located in the Sinai, Midian and Edom are natural borders to the east. Canaan is due north and central Sinai to the west. Not only are the borders of Paran well within the Sinai Peninsula, but as mentioned earlier, migration across the barren lands of Arabia was far less likely than remaining close to the routes of the Exodus. While migrations of people from Palestine into the Hijaz appear to be rare from the extant evidence, armies from Babylon did venture south. One example is Nabonidus King of Babylon who in the 6th century B.C. established outposts and colonies in the region. A total of six oasis towns are listed in the extant inscriptions, and while Yathrib is mentioned, Mecca, which is 280 miles south of Yathrib is nowhere to be seen on his lists. Mercantile movements were more common, but not until the 10th century and long after the death of Abraham. A notable case in favor of the Quranic view of Abraham’s travels can be found in the Book of I Kings [10:1-13] where the Queen of Sheba did in fact make the journey from S.W. Arabia to Israel. However, the territory of Sheba and also Tema are mentioned in the Book of Job [6:19] and yet while the region was traveled by merchants and known to the Biblical writers, there is still no mention of Mecca. Sheba is again discussed by the Prophet Isaiah [60:6] and nothing is said of Mecca or any dialectal variant of the name offered by Muslims. The Sabeans of Yemen never even mention the city either. The conclusion is evidently that Mecca was not in existence until long after Abraham's journeys.

Following God’s expulsion of Hagar and Ishmael, life continues for Abraham and his only wife Sarah. A disputed well becomes a source of controversy with King Abimelech. This name may translate 'Slave of Molech'. If this Biblical name were a derivative of the Canaanite name, that would serve as strong evidence that much of the Book of Genesis pre-dates Israel's Kingdom Period and gives even greater evidence to the non-existence of Mecca during the period of Abraham's travels, and an oath is sworn in Beersheba, again in Canaan [Genesis 21:22-34]. Later, Abraham is called to Mt. Moriah and the well known 'binding of Isaac' is played out. Mt. Moriah is also in Palestine, north of Beersheba. While the exact location is unknown, it only took Abraham three days to travel, so it could not have taken place in Mecca [Genesis 22]. An important observation here is that Isaac is called ‘your only son’ three times in this chapter. How can that be? Because Ishmael had already been sent away. He was to have no part of the covenant promised to Abraham and given to Isaac.

Soon, we find that Sarah had died, and Abraham arranges for the purchase of the Cave of Machpela. Yet again he has not left Canaan [Genesis 23]. Here Muslims need to explain why God would allow Abraham to build a tomb in Canaan for his family, but then a temple 1,000 miles away in a barren region of the Hijaz. In chapter twenty-four, we find that Abraham had become 'old in years' [24:1] It was time to find a wife for Isaac. Note that Abraham had nothing to do with finding a wife for Ishmael. Abraham's chief servant was selected for the task of conducting the search. An oath was sworn that the wife would not be a Canaanite but from Abraham's people in Mesopotamia. Let’s be reasonable here. If Abraham had built the Kaaba, then why wouldn’t Isaac’s wife be taken from the local tribes in the Hijaz or even farther south? . He returns home with Rebekkah to south Canaan, she weds Isaac and later Abraham dies and is buried with his wife Sarah in Machpelah. Both Ishmael and Isaac attended the funeral. Both must have been very close to Canaan, and in no way can we conclude that any of these men ever travels to Mecca to build a shrine to Allah and the other pagan gods native to Mecca. The Quran 11:49 clearly states that there had been no prophets to the Arabs before, so it can't be true that Abraham built the Kaaba. Also note that the Islamic traditions point out that before Muhammad’s claim to the prophetic office, none of his people had made the claim before him [Bukhari, Vol 1, Book 1, #6].

This all leads us to a connection with the nation of Israel, the Davidic Kingdom and the Savior who even now offers mercy to his wandering sons [Psalm 100:5,8; Luke 1:50; cf. Apology of al-Kindy, p.121].

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Articles by Jesse Toler
Answering Islam Home Page

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© Answering Islam, 1999 - 2013. All rights reserved.

 

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Taken from: http://www.answering-islam.org/authors/toler/abraham_kaaba.html

"Ginzberg furnishes substantial evidence that Mordecai and Haman were both Jews who knew each other well".

 



Power struggle between Jews

Clever Queen Esther takes a chance and manages to create harmony.
EUGENE KAELLIS

Purim is based on the Book of Esther, the most esoteric book in the Hebrew Testament. Accepting a literal interpretation of the book is impossible. It is laden with evident exaggerations and inventions that defy what is known of Persian history and conventions. Its hidden meaning can be uncovered only by combining a knowledge of Persian practices during the Babylonian Captivity, the conquest of Babylon by Cyrus the Great, his Edict (sixth century BCE) and Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews which, despite its name, contains a great deal of relevant and credible history.

Using these sources, one can arrive at a plausible interpretation completely in accord with historically valid information. Esther, it turns out, describes an entirely intra-Jewish affair set in the Persian Empire, with the two major antagonists as factional leaders: Mordecai, whose followers advocate rebuilding the Jerusalem Temple, and Haman, also a Jew, whose assimilationist adherents oppose the project.

Ginzberg furnishes substantial evidence that Mordecai and Haman were both Jews who knew each other well: they were co-butlers at a royal feast and journeyed together to India to put down a rebellion against Persia. Moreover, Haman's mother had a Hebrew name and his descendants are said to have taught Torah in Akiva's academy.

The multi-ethnic Persian Empire had significant religious freedom and communal authority, as exemplified by the Edict of Cyrus, permitting Jews to return to Judah and rebuild their Temple, destroyed by the Babylonians, and allowing the inclusion of members of various ethnic and religious groups under Persian rule, offering them some representation and influence at the royal court. However, it is untrue that Mordecai or Esther achieved the high positions attributed to them in the book. Queens and chief ministers always had to have impeccably Persian ancestry. More likely, Mordecai was a spokesperson for much of the Jewish community and Esther, a harem consort.

In the Persian Empire the king's harem typically had ethnic "representatives." Vashti, Esther's predecessor, was a member of the Hamanite faction. In a typically irreverent manner, she had forced her Jewish handmaidens to violate the Sabbath. After Vashti's dismissal, widespread rebellion and Jewish inter-factional fighting flared up, calmed only by Mordecai's elevation and the appointment of Esther, who, in a measure of intrigue, initially conceals her ethnic and factional identification. Her original name was Hebrew, viz., Hadassah; Esther is Persian, derived from Astarte or Ishtar.

The book states that Mordecai first discovered a plot to kill Ahasuerus, the king. It is more likely that he was apprised by Esther who, being in the harem, a traditional centre of intrigue and espionage, would have picked up this intelligence. A more plausible explanation is that the incident was a conspiracy arranged by Mordecai, the two allegedly guilty harem eunuchs becoming dupes in a plot designed to be exposed in order to discredit the Hamanite faction and win favor for Mordecai and his followers.

Nevertheless, Haman initially gains the upper hand by convincing Ahasuerus that Mordecai's faction threatens the king's hegemony, an argument given credence by the plan of the pro-Temple faction to construct a wall around the rebuilt Temple, perhaps to defend against Persian armies after the Jews had declared their independence. Haman also probably bribes the king with promises of a share of the plunder expropriated from the wealth of the pro-Temple faction after its members are killed.

After Haman's appointment, when he and the king sat down for a drink, "Susa was perplexed," the text states, indicating that the Jews of Susa, a city with a large Mordecai-supporting faction, were outraged that someone they considered a heretic would henceforth officially advise the king regarding the Jewish community.

As Haman puts his plan in motion, Mordecai warns Esther, and the pro-Temple Jews demonstrate their solidarity with her. During the three days of fasting, while Esther prepares to petition the king, Mordecai is busy collecting a counter-bribe, referred to as "relief and deliverance ... from another quarter," which he had earlier promised Esther while trying to assuage her fears about her own safety following the disclosure of her true allegiance.

The Mordecai faction succeeds and the tolerant but venal king switches his support. Esther gathers information on Haman's collaborators and denounces him. In a staged event in the royal apartment, with the king's co-operation, she frames Haman on an assault charge, providing Ahasuerus with a face-saving device to explain the dismissal and subsequent execution of someone he had so recently elevated.

Ahasuerus, now convinced that the pro-Temple faction does not threaten him with its walled city plans, provides help from forces he had formerly promised to Haman, allowing the Mordecaite Jews to eliminate the Hamanites, but keeping his well-greased hands out of the more violent aspects of the conflict.

The book states repeatedly that the pro-Temple faction members kept no plunder derived from the defeat of their rivals, indicating that this benefit of their triumph went to Ahasuerus. The story goes on to declare that, with the victory of the Mordecai faction, "many people of the country declared themselves Jews, for the fear of the Jews had fallen upon them." Why would ordinary Persians or Babylonians, now part of the Persian Empire, fear Jews to the point of embracing a minority religion in their own country? It is more reasonable to assume that the now religiously enthusiastic Jews who had become fearful of Mordecai were assimilated Jews who had identified themselves as Persians and who had formerly allied themselves with the Hamanite faction or had previously faltered in their allegiance to the pro-Temple faction.

Purim is at once the least and the most profound of Jewish holidays. The Talmud tells us that even after the Messiah comes and the mandated holidays of Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot are no longer celebrated, Purim will be retained. Why? Because the story reminds us that, even when obscured by bizarre circumstances, there is a continuous presence of God, often in the guise of "chance," which explains why Purim is known as the Feast of Lots.

The mood in the synagogue celebration of Purim is one of noisy revelry, even inebriation, and self-ridicule as if the participants somehow know that the book's story is a cover up for a series of dramatic and fateful events and they are winking at it and themselves.

Dr. Eugene Kaellis is a retired academic living in New Westminster.

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Taken from: http://www.jewishindependent.ca/Archives/Mar05/archives05Mar18-07.html

Keeping God's Covenant: A Reflection on the Book of Tobit

 

I really love the book of Tobit. If you ever get an opportunity, read this book in Scripture, because it’s a really heartwarming story. It’s an ancient episode of Touched by an Angel.

The old man Tobit is a just and upright man, but he, along with the rest of Israel are living in exile during the Babylonian occupation. During this period, all of his countrymen living around him have forsaken worship of the Lord, and have turned even further to idolatry. Turning to idolatry is why God sent them into exile in the first place. Tobit, though stays true to the covenant, even though he’s mocked by everyone for doing it.

Tobit then undergoes a personal tragedy. While he’s doing an act of mercy by burying a dead man who had been abandoned in the road, he goes blind.

Now he has to send his only son, the young boy Tobiah, on a dangerous journey to find their kinsmen, somewhere in the Babylonian empire, and get help.

But before Tobit does this, he prays. Tobit prays. Tobit prays for his son’s safety. Now think of this for a minute. Put yourself in Tobit’s shoes. You’re helpless. You can’t provide for your family in a foreign country that’s hostile to you. And now you have to send your only child, a teenage boy, to look for your relatives, somewhere in this vast empire.

How would you pray? Tobit didn’t just pray. Tobit poured his heart out to God. Tobit begged God for help.

And God heard his prayer, and sent the archangel Raphael, disguised as one of Tobit’s kinsmen, to act as a guide for the boy. And in the course of their travels they find Tobit’s kinsmen, Raphael rescues a young maiden, Sarah, from being tormented by a demon, he brings young Tobiah and Sarah together and they get married, and he even finds a cure for Tobit’s blindness.

The lesson here is this: God hears the prayers of those who keep his covenant.

Once Jesus was asked to respond to the question, “Which is the greatest commandment?’ He says the greatest commandment is, “Hear O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! Therefore you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” This statement in Hebrew theology is called the Shema. It’s the heart of the Mosaic law.

But then Jesus goes on to say, “The second is like it, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The Ten Commandments are rooted in these two commandments; loving God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and loving our neighbor as ourselves.

God responds to Tobit because he kept both of these great commandments. First, he kept God’s covenant even when it was difficult and life threatening to keep God’s covenant. And he also loved his neighbor as himself by the charitable acts that he preformed. And he poured his heart out to God in prayer.

If we remain true to God, God will remain true to us. If we are single hearted for the Lord, and treat others with a charitable heart, then God will hear us in our need even in the midst of a pagan empire.

It is my prayer for us all today, that we become as single hearted for God as Tobit was.

And blessed be God forever,

Father Michael Anthony Sisco

Visitor, Confraternity of Penitents

 

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Taken from: http://www.penitents.org/sisco_tobit.htm

Zephaniah as the link between Babel and Pentecost

 
April 1, 2011 in Biblical Studies, Theology .... 

 

Exegetes and theologians have long argued that Pentecost should be seen as a reversal of Babel – the scattering of the human race through the proliferation of languages healed through the unifying power of the outpoured Spirit. But, if these are two events are key bookends in redemptive history, doesn’t it seem odd that relatively little is said about this in the intervening narrative? Does the OT have any concept of Babel as a problem in need of resolution, or is this a brand new theme suddenly tossed into the mix at Acts 2?
These are the questions that Paul Pastor raised in the paper he presented at the NW meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society. Paul is an MA student at Western Seminary, and the paper was a summary of his MA thesis, “Echoes of ‘Pure Speech’: An Intertextual Reading of Gen. 11:1-9; Zeph. 3:8-20; and Acts 1-2.” Paul has graciously allowed me to upload the complete thesis here.
The basic thrust of Paul’s argument is that Zephaniah 3:8-20 provides the intertextual link between Babel and Pentecost. As he summarizes:

Pentecost as a reversal of Babel has been widely seen by exegetes since the early days of the Church. However, these two stories are by no means simple “bookends” with empty narrative space between them. Rather, it shall be shown that an extremely significant instance of textual connection comes from the often overlooked text of Zephaniah.
It will be argued that the Babel narrative of Genesis 11:1-9 is accessed and developed by Zephaniah 3:8-20; and that that text in turn provides a guiding paradigm of Babel-reversal that is utilized by Luke in the Pentecost account of Acts 2. Seen in this way, Zephaniah’s prophecy provides an indispensable link between the two texts of Genesis and Acts; simultaneously looking back into the seminal history of the covenant community and forward to the radical in-breaking of the Spirit at the harvest feast of Pentecost.
Intertextual “echoes” of themes and motifs will be traced at length through the three texts, noting linguistic parallel, narrative similarity, and intertextual dependence for the developing trans-biblical narrative.

The thesis that follows is a fascinating example of intertextuality in biblical exegesis. After a brief summary of his intertextual method, Paul argues that the Babel narrative itself is “incomplete,” leaving the reader in suspense as the story never comes to satisfactory resolution. Paul then argues Genesis forms the clear backdrop for much of Zephaniah, setting the stage for identifying further intertextual connections between the two books.
The heart of Paul’s argument comes in the third part of the thesis, where he identifies a number of textual connections between Gen. 11 and Zeph. 3. In my opinion, intertextual linkages like this always bear the burden of proof as they need to establish real textual connections rather than mere linguistic or thematic similarities. And, Paul does a remarkable job of identifying and defending the connections at work, though you’ll have to read the thesis for yourself to follow all the different lines of argument that he offers.
Finally, Paul turns his attention to Acts 2, arguing that Acts 2 bears many of the same textual markers as the first two passages. Given the strong thematic and linguistic connections, Paul concludes that Luke intends for his readers to see Acts two as the conclusion of a narrative arc that begins in Gen. 11 and runs through Zeph. 3.
And, to wrap everything up, Paul offers a few closing words on how a study like this can impact the life and praxis of faith communities:

It is my sincere hope that this study may also impact the thinking and practice of our local churches and communities of faith. I believe that when scripture is seen with the literary intricacy and vitality that a study of this type highlights, it is compelling and powerful for those who cling to the scriptures as the word of God. The narrative excellence in view here, the thorough intentionality, and the development of a single coherent narrative across the span of centuries and as the product of three very different communities of faith should capture the attention and imagination of modern believers.
Here are a few brief ideas for what the practical and responsive outworkings of this study could look like: Our thoughts about national and international unity should be profoundly influenced by the paradigm offered in these texts. True unity is only possible across ethnic, social, lingual bounds by the power of the Spirit and for the purpose of a shared service and worship of God.
This study is a reminder that truly, “All scripture is profitable” (2 Tim. 3:16, ESV). The Hebrew Bible is frequently under read by Christian readers, and the Latter Prophets even more so. This section of our Bibles is rich with powerful imagery, concept, and nuance, coloring our theology and worldview. It ought to be increasingly read.
In addition to this, it ought to be increasingly taught and preached. Our pastors and teachers ought to carefully interact with this literature both for its compelling content, as well as the dramatic role that it plays in the over arching scriptural meta-narrative.

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Taken from: http://marccortez.com/2011/04/01/zephaniah-as-the-link-between-babel-and-pentecost/