JERUSALEM
retired to the upper city, the lower town from the
temple to Shiloah was burned by the Romans. The
capture of the upper city was effected by a regular
approach with mounds and battering-rams (September
70 A.D.), and even then the huge citadel of Herod
could only have yielded to famine had it not been
abandoned by the Jewish leaders in a vain attempt at
escape (I SRAEL , § 106). Its three great towers, with a
portion of the western wall, were left as a memorial,
and of this group the so-called tower of David (Phasael)
still stands.
The rebuilding of Jerusalem by Hadrian seems to
have been conceived in a spirit friendly to the Jews, and
there is even some evidence that the
34.
Capitolina. restoration of the temple was contemplated
or commenced. After the great revolt
(132-135 A . D . ) , however, iElia Capitolina was trans-
formed into a purely pagan town with seven quarters
and many buildings of heathen fashi0n.l [It was not
nearly so large as the Jerusalem of the Herods : the
SW. hill lay outside the walls (Jer. Mic. 312). ‘ T h e
S. walls appear to have run very nearly on the lines of
the present city wall.’2]
The soread of Christianitv and the rise of the Dractice of
pilgrimage gave a new impo&nce to the city of the ’crucifixion
and resurrection, and in the time of
36. Christianity. Constantine the ‘discovery’ of the Holy
Sepulchre and the erection of the magnifi-
cent church of the Anastasis (dedicated 336 A.D.), madeJerusalem
again a great religious centre. In the pagan reaction under
Julian an attempt was made to rebuild the temple : but it was
frustrated by an outburst of fire from the foundations (362).
The unfortunate empress Endocia spent her last years a t
Jerusalem (about 450-460), built the church of St. Stephen,
founded monasteries and hospitals, enriched the churches [and
above all rebuilt the walls of the city (Evagrius, HE 20-23)
on the old and wider lines, especially on the S. Thus Siloam
was again included, and is so described by Antoninus Martyr
( 2 9 , about 560.3 It is in all probability the ruin of Eudocia’s
wall that Bliss found in his ‘ upper wall ’ from Maudslay’s scarp
t o Siloam (see above, $9 IO ii. a,30)]. The next great builder
was Justinian, part of whose splendid church of St. Mary perhaps
still remains in, or to the E. of, the mosque el-AksB. In 614
Jerusalem was taken by ChosriiSs; and the churches and
sepulchre were burned; hut the vicar of the exiled patriarch
Modestus began to restore them even before the Persians retired.
I n 628 Heraclius retook the city; hut its Christian days were
numbered. I n 637 Jerusalem capitulated to the caliph ‘Omar
who gave directions for the erection of a place 0;
36. Islam. worship on the site of the ‘remotest shrine’-i.e.,
the temple, to which Mohammed, according to
e r . 1 7 1 , was transported from Mecca in his famous night
journey. From this verse the great sanctuary of Jerusalem
received the name el-Aks., now generally confined to the
building a t the S. end of the Haram. The original mosque
as described by Arculphus (670) was a rude edifice of wood
capable of containing 3000 worshippers ; hut soon after, the
sanctuary was reconstructed in a style of great’magnificence by
the caliph ‘Abd eI-Malik, whose date (72 A.H. =691 A.D.) is still
read in a Cufic inscription on the Dome of the Rock, though
the name of the caliph seems to have been changed to that of
el-Ma’man,who restored the buildings after a great earthquake
which, according to Mokaddasy, left nothing standing excep;
the part around the rnijivd or niche indicating the direction of
Mecca. In their present condition the buildings of the
sanctuary show features of very various styles, from the
Byzantine downwards. The architectural problems which they
suggest are closely connected with controversies as to the
topGgraphy of the T EMPLE (4.v.) and the true site of the Holy
Sepulchre (see GOLGOTHA). Apart from the question of the holy
sites, the later topography of Jerusalem presents no feature that
need detain us, and the subsequent fortunes of the city belong
to the general history of Palestine and the crusades.
Among the countless volun~eson the subject the followinq may
benamedasstil1ofuse:--Kobinson, BR,’38, and LBR,52; Tobler,
Z7uei BQcher der Topogr. /ems. etc., ‘53-
37. Bibliography. ‘54 ; De Vogiib, Les hgZises de la Tewe
Sainte, 1860 Le Temple de Jems. suinie
Bun essni sur Za iopop+hie etc ’ 1864-5 : Neubauer, Glog. 2.
Talmud, 68; Gubrin, / d i e , ’68-’66;1Warren, Undel-groundjeru-
+ern, ‘76 ; PEFM, vol. on Jerus., ‘84 ; this covers the work to
83; for subsequent worksee the PEFQ, and the ZDPV,’84-1goo;
1 Details in CILron. Pasch. 01. 2243.
2 Bliss Excnv. 306.
3 The’mosaic plan of Jerusalem discovered at Medeba in
1897 omits the church of St. Stephen and represents the W.
wall as turning N E . after including the church of Mt. Zion on
the site of the present Cenaculum. Its date must therefore be
earlier than Eudocia. There are also traces upon it of Hadrian’s
wall excluding the church on Mt. Zion.
2431
JESHIMON
Besant and Palmer, Efist. of3erus. ’88 ; Benzinger Hi1 p IO,
‘94 ‘ Buhl Pal. ‘96. Bliss and Dickie Excazi. at JeAs, ’94-’97
’98 f and )the articlLs of Sir Charles ’Wilson in Smith‘s UBPI:
and of Col. Conder in Hastings’ DB,‘99. See also Baedeker’s
Pal.@)by Socin and Benzinger, ’go, and Murray’s by Haskett
Smith, 1892. The sources for the Byzantine and Medizval
topography are 5mid in the volumes of the ‘ Palestine Pilgrims’
Text Society ’ ; the Arabic topography in Guy I’Estrange, Pub
undw the MosZns, 1890 but its translations, often freely given
must he used with caution. On modern Jerusalem, heside;
notices in many of the above-cited works (especially the two
guide-hooks), see/ems. the H o b , by E. Sherman Wallace, U.S.
Consul in the city.
G . A. S.-W. R. S.,’ I$, 12-36 ; C . R. C . , $5 3-11.
JERUSHA (N@li, a compound of Sl’ and Nt5i, the
latter perhaps a divine name represented by HE’ in
KE’L’3 [see BAASHA, n. I] ; so S. A. Cook, Ex?. T
10 5266 (‘99), IEPOYCA [AL], repuuv [Jos. Ant. ix. 11z]),
bath Zadok, the queen-mother of Jotham, 2 K. 1 5 3 3
( ~ p o y c [B], IE. [A])=z Ch., 27 I (where ”?l’,
Jerushah, l ~ p o y c c[B] ~ ; possibly as though= ‘ pos-
sessed ‘-i. e . , ‘ married ’).
JESHAIAH, twice AV Jesaiah (VI:v@, 3 !
@
, 28,
‘YahwB saves,’ the same name as that of the prophet
ISAIAH (q.v., i. 3 I ) ; OCAIAC [BA], IECC[EIIA W I ) .
I. AV J ESAIAH and Pelatiah, sons of Hananiah b. Zerubbahel
[I Ch. 3 21 a;?@;, w a p a [B], muaa [AI, - m e [Ll); according to
E, Pesh., Vg., he was the son of Pelatiah.
2. A son of (the Merarite) Jeduthun ( I Ch: 25315 >;t:v@;
uara, LwuFca [Bl, m a n , LULLIS[AI, cuam [Ll) ; cp 3 and 5 below.
3. A descendant of Moses ( I Ch. 2625 >??;f@,; L W ~ [L])
C who
in I Ch. 24 21 appears as ISSHIAH ( q . ~ . ) ;cp 23 15 17 ; as a Levite
he is probably assigned to Merari ; cp 24 21 with 23 17 21. See
z above and 5 below.
4. h. Athaliah, one of the clan called B’ne Elam in Ezra’s
Earavan (see E ZRA i., 2 ; ii., $ 15 la), Ezra8 7 (?@;, L O U ~ L L I
B], quam [A], wuums [L])=I Esd. 8 33 JOSIAS, RV JESIAS
emas [B], LEUU. [AL]).
5. A Merarite Levite in Ezra’s caravan (see E ZRA i., $ 2 ;
ii., $ 15 [114,EzraS~g(;l;yf;, waia [A])=I Esd.848, OSAIAS
:om. B), which is based on some such form as a;’:y~?f
ccP Neb.
12 32). See 2 above.
6. AV JESAIAH, a Benjamite (Neh. 117 a;YW;, ccs [B*vidl,
:emu [Bbl, ~cuu[elia[AI).
JESHANm (a?@; T H N K A N A [Bl, T H N A N A
-A], IECCHNA [L], JESANA [vg.]), a city taken by
kbijah from Jeroboam ( 2 Ch. 1 8 1 g ) , and doubtless also
mentioned in I S. 7 IZ (critically emended text ; see
SHEN). Josephus ( A n t . viii. 113) calls it cuuvus ; see
ilso Ant. xiv. 15 12, B/ i. 17 5 ( K C ~ V C L ; v. Z. cuura). It
,s mod. ‘Ain Si&, 3f m. N. of Bethel, a n interesting
tncient site (Clerni. Ganneau, PEFQ, ‘77, p. 206,PEFM
2 291 302).
JESHARELAH (h&-@!),
I Ch. 25 14, see ASARE-
L.4H.
JESHEBEAB (3,&7@, ‘ h e brings back a father’?
:as though 1
L$ 1p2], 6 2 ; om. E, ICBAAA [AL],
[Vg.], cp Gray, HPN 24 t a r y ) [Pesh.]),
rs&4.48-L
the name of a priestly course ( I Ch. 2 4 1 3 ) . ‘The
readings point to an original Ishbanl,’ which has been
adopted by Ki. ( S B O T ); but it is hardly likely that the
Chronicler would give a priest a name compounded with
that of the detested Baal. On the other hand, the name
may well have been traditional, and perhaps intention-
illy disguised by the Chronicler (or rather by a later
scribe), with the above rather weak result. Cp Oholiab
for Oholibaal (see O HOLIBAH ), and see I SHBAAL ,
JASHOBEAM, MEPHIBOSHEI‘H. S. A. C.
JESHER ( 1 2[Gi.], lv! [Ra.], cp JESHURUN ; CAP
:L], I O A C . [BA]), son of C ALEB and AZUBAH[qq.~.],
1 Ch. 2 18f.
JESHIMON. I n the six places where AV has
Jeshimon as a place-name (Nu. 21 20 23 28 I S. 23 ‘9 24
26 I 3 ) , RV invariably has ‘the desert,’ while RVmg.
1 The passages in square brackets are by G.A.Sm.; also the
following sections : $0 I&, 12-18, 20, 21, 2 5 3 , 27 iii., 30.
2432
 JESHISHAI JESUS
retains ‘ Jeshimon’ (fD’e3,8pquos [BAFL] in Nu., JESHUAH (u!&, I Ch. 2411 AV, RV J ESHUA
700 [6]leuuaipou [BA], [ T O O] L E U ~ E ~ O U[L]
Y in S). (q.v., i. [6]).
The word jiJiman occurs frequently elsewhere as a common
noun (Dt. 32 IO Ps. 68 7 [SI 78 40 106 14Is. 43 19 etc.) with allusion JESHURUN, in Is. 442 AV JESURUN(tsly’, 0
to the wilderness of Sinai. HrAllHMENOC [BAFL in Dt.19 0 H r A l l . I C ~ A H A
The Jeshimon of Nu., which is immediately overlooked [BKAQ], or [HP 90 1441 simply ICPAHA [in Is.];
by Pisgah, is the long tract of barren land N. of the the other Greek versions in Dt. E y e H C [Symm.,
Dead Sea ; that of Sam., ‘ before ’ which is the hill of Theod.1, in Is. E Y ~ Y T A T O C ,or eyetic [Aq., Symm.,
Hachilah (see H ACHILAH ), is the eastern part of the hill- Theod.] ; Pesh., Tg. ‘ Israel : Vg., Dt. 32 diZecectus, Dt.
,country of Judah. For a vivid sketch of the latter see 33 and Is. rectissimus; Ar. Walt. maujzin, ‘praised’ [Dt.
GASm. HG312$, and cp BETH-JESHIMOTH, DESERT, 32 335, but in 3326 ‘Israel’ ; Gr. Ven. I C ~ A E A ~ C K O C
5 2 (2). =J.hK~@), a poetical name for the people of Israel
JESHISHAI (’.P’@jl, ‘aged’ ? I[EC]CAI [BA], coyci (Dt. 3215 3 3 5 26 Is. 442). From the lateness of the
[L], IESESI, om. Pesh.), in a genealogy of G AD ($ 13) writings in which it occurs Jeshurun might he an
.(I Ch. 5 14f). @BA suggests @’,-Le., Jesse. artificial formation, designed to represent the ideal of
YahwB‘s people, viz., righteousness (from id*,y&ir=
JESHOHAIAH ( YI:@d;, 3 1 ; one might read upright). This view, however, is not favoured by the
JASHVAHIAH ‘Yahwk causes to grow,’ but this is hardly worth
while. The bassage contains three kindred names, derived from use of the term in the above four passages ; Jeshurun
?$y and SK or n;. First comes nrnlw, a corruption of ?I:$qQ, (if the vowels are right) is nothing more than a synonym
Maaseiah ; then ?;‘kg, Asaiah ; and lastly hWYW, a corruption
for Israel. Late writers had access to and sometimes
utilised archceological facts. It is possible, therefore,
of s39@Jp, Maaseel), a Simeonite, temp. Hezekiah ( I Ch. 436,
that there was a shortened form of the ethnic name
‘iauouia [BA], leu. [I:). T. K. C.
Israel, which was not unknown as i$;, y&r (hence the
JESHUA (UW, §§ 28, 8 4 ; I H C O Y [BKA], COYA name of a son of Caleb, I Ch. 218), hut was still better
[L]), a place in the list of towns of Judah, \Neb. 11 25-30 known as ~ n d(vocalised
. on the analogy of Zebulun,
(see v. 26), and obviously in the extreme S. towards
Siyyun [Zion])‘or perhaps rather pi@!, YiJr6n.
Edom. It is mentioned just before M OLADAH ( q . ~ . ) ,
and is obviously only another form of the SHEMA [i.] The termination is probably not a diminutive (Ges.,
.of Josh. 1526, and the SHEBA[i.] of Josh. 19 2 . l with Gr. Ven. [above]), but indicates that the bearer
The most original form is doubtless Shema ; m became 6, and of the name belongs to a certain category (Kon. Lehrge6.
b hecame w (cp ~ 1 in 1 Jerus. Talm. for NIN; Frankel, VOY- 2a 405); YiSrBn will mean one who belongs to or
studien 102) and finally 3 was prefixed by a copyist. The represents the ethnic category of Y&r. Whether
form Shii‘a Ar Shew‘a lies probably at the root of the Ar. YESer originally conveyed the idea of righteousness or
Su‘weh, the name of a ruined place situated on a high hill a
little more than half-way between Kh. ‘Attir (Jattir) and Kh. (cp i m ) prosperity, we cannot tell. I n later times it
el-Milb, and due W. of Tell ‘Arad. So Knobel in 1861, followed may very well have done s o ; the name $NWI, when
by most commentators. Conder, however, limits the identifi- its real origin (see J ACOB , 6 ) had been forgotten,
cation to Jeshua ( P E F M 3 409). T. K. C.
may have been explained by 5~ iv;,
‘God’s righteous
JESHUA (PlG?,a later form of J OSHUA [4.v.] ; cp one.’ See J ASHAR , BOOK OF, § 4,and cp Bacher,
wzk-&f4332f. ; IHCOYC [BKAQFL]). ZATW5 1 6 1 8 (‘85); G. Hoffmann, ib. 16218 (’96).
I. b. Nun I Neh. 8 17; se? JOSH[ A. T. K. C.
2. A famil; of the b’ne Pahath-Moab in the great ost exilic
list [see E ZRA ii., 5s 9, 8 GI; Ezra26 (wuoue [BA])=$eh.ir~= JESIAH (S$@), Ch. 1 2 6 AV ; (YI:@!)
I I Ch. 2320
I Esd. 5 11, JESUS.
3. Father of Jozabad, a Levite, Ezra833=1 Esd. 863 ; JEW AV ; RV. ISSHIAH[ q . ~, .2 41.
R V JESUS (@B reads esus Jozabad). JESIAS (ECIAC [B] etc.), I Esd. 833, RV=Ezra 8 7 ,
4 Father of EzER &der of Mizpah) ; Neh. 319.
J ESHAIRH , 4.
5. Jeshua b. Jehozadak the high priest, who, together
-with Zerubbabel, is often mentioned in contemporary JESIMIEL (\&?&: [Ginsb.], or $?!V?b
[Ba.] ;
writings ; see Hag., and Zech. 3-6, where, however, his the text seems wrong; hut see N AMES, 5 31, where &”,’ is
name is uniformly written JOSHUA (yFinl). As in Ezra y h ; see JESHOH~IAH),
favoured ; cp ULOU uaQah [B?] ~ u ~ a [AL]
3 2 3 4 3 . he is mentioned prominently in connection a Simeonite, temp. Hezekiah ?I Ch. 436). T. I(. C.
with the building of the temple ; but to other questions JESSE (+d+.,
5 52 ; contracted from hKk.”?
[see
Hag. and Zech. unfortunately give no answer. Was N AMES , 521; or from W3K, ABISHAI?cp Icabod
he one of the leaders in what is commonly called ‘ the from Ahi-cabod [so Marquart, Fundamente, 24 ; see
Return ’ ? (For a discussion of the large question here also Ex?. T 10 526a (’gg)] ; for anotber view see
suggested, see E ZRA -N EHEMIAH , 7, and cp ZERUB- J EZEBEL ; in many MSS of I Ch. 213 ’V’e ; IECCAI
BABEL . ) The ‘ sons of Jeshua b. Jozadak ‘ were among [BAQL], LEUUL [K]), son of Obed and father of David
those who had taken foreign wives (EzralOr8). His (see DAVID,5 I ) .
descendants are traced down to Jaddua (351-331 B.c.)
in Neh. 1210f: In the Apocryphal books of I Esd. JESSUE ( I H C O Y E I C [B], IHCOYE [A]), I Esd. 526=
and Ecclus. (e.g., 49 12) the name appears regularly as Ezra 240, JESHUAii., 7.
JESUS. JESU(IHCO~C[B],-O~[AL]),
I Esd. 8 6 3 = E z r a 8 3 3 ,
6. ‘The house of Jeshua’ was a priestly family among whom
were incorporated the b‘ne Jedaiah (Ezra236=Neh. 7 39=
I Esd. 524). To show their antiquity the Chronicler mentions
a Jeshua among the representatives of the twenty-four courses
JESUI
See ISHVI.
(+>e),
J ESHUA ii., 3.
Nu. 2644; Jesuite (’I*?), idid.
instituted by David ( I Ch. 24 I I ; AV J ESHUAH ); cp also z Ch.
31 15, where Jeshua is a priest of the time of Hezekiah. JESURUN (ply?), Is. 442, RV JESHURUN (4.v.).
7. The b’ne Jeshua and Kadmiel are names of levitical
families, Ezra240 ( L ~ ~ O U[RI)=Neh.
E 743’1 Esd. 526, JESSUE, JESUS ( IHCOYC [BAL]), the Greek form of J OSHUA
RV J ESUS (n)lroua [A], -ELF [R]); see GENEALOGIES i:, $, 7, (i.), and JESHUA.
and cp HODAVIAH.They both occur together as individual I. See JOSHUA [i.].
names in Neh.94f: and 109 [IO] (Jeshua b. Azaniah), and 2. I Esd. 51r=Ezra 26 JESHUA ii., 2.
Jeshua alone in 87.2 3. I Esd. 863 R V = E z k 813,JESHUA ii., 3.
4. Ecclus. 4 9 m etc. See JEsHua ii., 5.
1 RV here wronelv eives ‘or Sheba.’ as if Sheba were a mere
variant of Beershegar
name-lists whits must often have troubled the Chronicler. The
~

2 In the case of Jeshua, as with so many post-exilic names,

there are numerous instances where identification is out of the priestly ABISHUA( 2 ) is perhaps related to Jeshua in the same
question. Indeed, we may plausibly suppose that such a common way as Abiasaph .to ASAPH(pa., 3); cp GENEALOGIES i., B 7
and reputable name may have served to fill some of the gaps in (iii. c. n.).
2433 2434
 JESUS
5. Esd. 5 q=Ezra 2 36 JESHUA ii., 6 .
T vivid presentations of a striking personality, words and
6. I Esd. 5 2 6 RV=Ezra240 JESHUA ii., 7.
7. Father of Sirach. See E&LESIASTICUS, $3 2.
8. Son ofSirach. See ECCLESIASTICUS, 5 2.
9. A name in the genealogy of Jesus, Lk. 329 (AV JOSE).
See GENEALOGIES ii., I 3f;
IO. See JUSTUS.
JESUS
Conflicts with Judaism, $3
Sources 55 1-4.
Primiti;e Tradition, B 5 3 Messianic Ideal, 5 26f.
Preaching Ministry, $3 gf; Passion Week, I 2 8 8
Teaching. S II f i The Future, 5 3zf;
Healing-M&isGy, r g 3 Literature, 5 34.
Tesus Christ. the author and obiect of the Christian
. I - -
faith, a Jew by race, was born in 6alestine towards the
end of the reign of Herod the Great
*' summav' 1 - HRONOLOGY . 6
(C 1
r;7 f i ) . The home
of his childhood was N AZARETH , a town in the lower
division of the province of G ALILEE (§ 5). The family
to which he belonged was of humble estate. In early
youth he worked a t a handicraft (see JOSEPH [husband
of Mary], 5 9). On arriving at mature manhood he be-
came a public teacher, rapidly gained fame, gathered
about him disciples, offended the ruling classes by free
criticism of the prevailing religion, and ended a brief
but extraordinary career by suffering crucifixion.
This short summary of facts is taken from those
books in the N T which bear the name of Gospels, and
2. Sources. are our main source of information for
the history of Jesus. These documents
are of varying value from a historical point of view.
Critical opinion is much divided as to the fourth, that
which bears the name of John, the judgment of many
critics being that it is the least trustworthy as a source
whether for the words or for the acts of Jesus. By
comparison, the first three, from their resemblances
called synoptical, are regarded by many as possessing
a considerable measure of historical worth. But even
these, from a critical point of view, are not of equal
value, nor do the contents of any one of them possess a
uniform degree of historic probability. They present
to the critic a curious, interesting, and perplexing
problem still far from final solution. By their re-
semblances and differences, agreements and disagree-
ments, they raise many questions as to origin, relative
dates, and literary connections, which have called forth
a multitude of conflicting hypotheses and a most ex-
tensive critical literature. In the present state of the
inquiry a dogmatic tone is inadmissible. All that one
may do with propriety is to indicate what he regards
as the most plausible opinion. We are concerned with
the question here only in as far as is necessary to explain
and justify the method on which the public life of Jesus
is dealt with in this article.
W e may regard MK. as the oldest of the synoptical Gos-
pels, and in its leading contents thenearest to the primitive
3. Mark tradition. In its present form, or in an
(and Luke). earlier shape, it appears to have been the
main source of the narrative parts of the
other two Gospels. In many sections the style ' is
suggestive of an eye-witness, so as to make the reader
feel that he is in contact with the ultimate source of the
avangelic tradition, the oral narratives of the companions
of Jesus. As reported by Eusebius (HE 339), Papias,
Bishop of Hierapolis, writing about 125 A.D., described
Mark as the interpreter ( + ~ T ~ w u T $ s )of Peter, which
probably means that he helped the apostle to put what
he had to say into Greek or L a t h 1 Internal evidence
supports the hypothesis of such a connection between
much of the material in the second Gospel and one of
the men who had been with Jesus, and with none of
them more probably than with Peter as he is represented
in the evangelic tradition. This Gospel is full of
realisms. Its graphic style has often been remarked
on. But it is not a question of merely pictorial narrative.
The phenomena to be noted are descriptions to the life,
1 See Sanday, Bumpton Lectures for 1893, p. 280.
2435
'JESUS
acts reported just as they must have been said and
done, because they had impressed themselves indelibly
on the ear and eye of the reporter. What specially
makes for the hypothesis of an eye-witness, and generally
for the primitive character of Mk.'s reports, is the
disregard manifest in them of conventional considera-
tions of the fitting and edifying. The influence of such
considerations is traceable in the other two Synoptists,
especially in LK. In the third Gospel Jesus is the
Lord (about a dozen times so named in narrative
where Mt. and Mk. have Jesus), and it is never for a
moment forgotten what religions decorum demands
in recording the words and acts of so august a person
age. For this Lk. may in part be personally re-
sponsible, but probably not altogether. The decorum
of his narrative reflects the reverence of the early church
for its risen and exalted Head, the writer's deference
thereto showing itself in the omission of some things
reported in the primitive tradition and in the putting
of other things in a modified way. This reverence
and its controlling influence would grow with time.
The absence of that influence from Mk. 's narrative a s
evinced by the realism, of which examples will be given
as we proceed, is an index at once of antiquity and
of first - hand sources of information. Peter doubt-
less shared the reverence of the church for its Lord.
But Peter had seen and heard, and the vivid sense of
the unique reality overpowered all considerations of
what was becoming, such as might naturally weigh with
those who had not seen or heard but drew their in-
formation mainly from documents. And so we see in
Mk., containing, according to Papias, the report of
Peter's recollections, the real man Jesus, without the
aureole of faith around his head, yet with a glory of
truth, wisdom, and goodness the better seen on that
very accoimt.
The informant who tells of Mark's connection with
Peter says,
~. also.. that Matthew wrote a book of Logia
4. ~ ~ 6 t
(T& h ~ UUV€ypd'#aTO,
%yla ~ EUS. 339).
(and Luke). Most modern critics treat this statement
with respect : but few identify the Lwin
of Papias, written (as he states) in the Hebiew tongue,
with our Canonical Mt., even to the extent of seeing in
the latter a simple translation into Greek of the Hebrew
original. The prevailing and intrinsically reasonable
opinion is that the book of the publican apostle was
the source whence the author of our Mt. drew the words
or discourses of Jesus so amply reported in his Gospel.
He, and also the author of Lk. ; for in the didactic ele-
ment there is much common to the first Gospel and the
third, though the latter contains a considerable amount
of peculiar material which may have been derived from a
different source. The common matter is given in such
varied forms and connections in the two Gospels as to
suggest either various redactions of the source or very
free use by one or both Evangelists. How variations
might arise is easily conceivable. Collections of the
words of Jesus were not made in a purely historical or
antiquarian spirit. They met the demand of disciples for
Christian instruction, for words of the Master by which
they might guide their lives. The practical aim would
influence the form and the collection of the Logia
as used by preachers and catechists. The words of
the Lord Jesus 'would almost involuntarily undergo
modification to suit actual circumstances. This process
has gone farthest in Lk. Besides the influence of
decorum already touched upon, we note in Lk.'s report
of the words of Jesus, as compared with Mt. ' s , a certain
indifference to the historical setting, to the actual cir-
cumstances under which and with reference to which
Jesus spoke, a disregard of the religious antitheses of
the time, and a translation of the sayings into terms,
and an ideal transposition to a time, which fit them for
the present use of the Church. The 'Sermon on the
Mount' in Lk.'s report is virtually a discourse of the
2436
 JESUS
exalted Lord to a Christian congregation, edited either
by the Evangelist or by another in that view. Having
regard to this broad contrast between the first Gospel
and the third, we can have no difficulty in giving to
the former the preference as to comparative originality.
Neither may give the ipsissima ver6a; but on the whole
Mt. comes nearer them than Lk.
From the foregoing statement it follows that the
narratives common to Mt., Mk., and Lk., and the dis-
5. primitive courses common to Mt. and Lk., may
tradition. with a considerable measure of confidence
be regarded as a trustworthy tradition con-
cerning the ministry of Jesus. They represent the
oldest, comparatively primitive, tradition, and as such
must form the basis of a statement concerning that
ministry professing to be guided by a critical method.
They relate exclusively to the public life, passing over
in silence almost unbroken the childhood and early youth.
According to this primitive tradition, the public
career of Jesus began when another remarkable man
was performing the part of a prophet in
6. John the the wilderness of Judaea : a man of austere
Baptist. ascetic life, symbolising the severity of his
attitude as a moral critic of his time ; preaching to all
classes the necessity of repentance, and baptizingin the
Jordan such as received his message as the voice of
God-hence known as the ' Baptist ' (see I SRAEL , § 92).
Jesus came from Nazareth (Mk. 1 9 ) to see' and hear
John, and, like the others, received baptism at his hands
(see J ORDAN , 5 z),a fact stated by Mk. without note or
comment, by Mt. in a way implying that it needed ex-
planation, by Lk. (in a participial clause) as a sub-
ordinate incident. Expositors and theologians have
endeavoured to explain the significance of this event.
It meant this at least : that Jesus felt a deep sympathetic
interest in John's work. The visit to the Jordan helps
us to look back into the silences of Nazareth ; it is a
window into the mind of Jesus. John, we gather, was
a great man for him. So he confessed at a subsequent
time (Mt. 11,I), and what he said then shows what he
had thought before he left the seclusion of Nazareth.
T o be baptized by such a man was a suitable start for
his own ministry. It was a public intimation of moral
solidarity. How far his tendencies, methods, and habits
agreed with or differed from those of the prophet of
the wilderness would appear in due course; it was
well, to begin with, that fundamental sympathy should
be at once made manifest.
How long Jesus remained in the region environing
the lower part of the Jordan and the Dead Sea is un-
7. The certain. Mk. states that he returned
I Temptation., to Galilee after John had been 'delivered
u p ' (that is, thrown into prison by
Herod, tetrarch of Galilee : see Mk. 6 14-29), All three
Synoptists make mention of a retirement into the remoter
inhospitable wilderness of Judzea, and of an experience
of moral trial there, familiarly known as the Temptation.
The bare fact (intrinsically credible) is stated by Mk.,
without the symbolic representation given in the parallel
accounts ; but the impulse to this'withdrawal into solitude
is very realistically described by him, as a being driven
by the Spirit into the desert ( I r z ) , which, as external
force is not to be thought of, speaks of intense mental
preoccupation.
At length Jesus, with clarified vision and confirmed
will, returned to Galilee, the main theatre of his future
work as we know-it from the oldest tradition,'
5. there to enter on activities which have won
career. for him a unique place in the history of
the woi-Id. It does, not clearly appear from Mk.
1 We might say the exclusive theatre, were it not for a few
incidents connected with the final journey to Jerusalem through
Pcma (little children brought to Jesus man seeking eternal life
with relative conversation two sons df Zebedee blind man at
Jericho). Mk. makes J e k s teach multitudes i; Peraea (101);
Mt. makes him heal (192). There are rudimentary indica-
tions of a Samaritan ministry in Lk. (in the long insertion
2437
JESUS
whether he chose any particular spot as the centre from
which his activity was to radiate. It is certain that
Nazareth was no such centre. With the exception of
an occasional visit, his native town (but see N AZARETH )
was henceforth forsaken for other scenes more suitable
or more sympathetic. Among these a prominent place
belongs to Capernaum, a thriving populous town on the
shore of the lake of Galilee.
The public ministry of Jesus presents four broad
aspects : ( I ) a preaching ministry among the people at
large ; ( 2 ) a teaching ministry among disciples ; (3) a
healing ministry; (4)a prophetic or critical ministry
antagonistic to current conceptions and embodiments o t
righteousness.
I. The chief scene of the first form of ministry, the
K$pvypa, was the synagogue. On his way northwards
9. Preaching. from the Jordan Jesus at length arrived
at Capernaum, . and ' straightway on
the sabbath day he entered into the synagogue and
taught ' (Mk. 121). Shortly thereafter he set out 011 a.
preaching tour through the towns of Galilee (139)-
Here one of Mk.'s realisms occurs. Jesus appears in
his narrative making a flight from Capernaum in the
grey dawn while all are asleep, possibly ' a flight from
the unexpected reality into which his ideal conception of
his calling had brought him ' (Holtzmann, Handcomm.
zum N T ) , certainly an escape from sudden entangling
popularity to similar service elsewhere. ' For this en$
I left ' (Capernaum), said Jesus simply, in self-defence,
to disciples who bad pursued him (138). In Lk.'s,
version flight is eliminated, and a reference to his divine
mission is substituted for an apology for flight (443).
Of this synagogue-ministry no detailed record has.
been preserved. Not a single specimen of the brief
striking synagogue addresses of Jesus is to be found in
the Gospels-at least there is none under that name : it
is possible that some discourses-e.g., the beautiful
exhortation against earthly care (Mt. 625-34 Lk. 1222-34)
-assigned to other occasions-were really delivered in
synagogues. Lk. has given us the text, and a general
characterisation, of one synagogue address-thatdelivered
in Nazareth (418-22). If, as without sufficient reason
some suspect, his account be unhistorical, it is, to say the
least, a felicitous invention. The text from the Book
of Isaiah ( 6 1 1 3 ) is thoroughly typical of the religious
attitude and spirit of Jesus, and the expression 'words of
grace ' (X6yocs T$S X d p t m s ) is doubtless most apt, whether
we take it as applying to the manner or to the substance
of the discourse. Lk.'s account of the appearance of
Jesus in the synagogue of Nazareth is meant, and it is
fit, to be a symbolic programme of his whole preaching
ministry. Mk. 's contribution to the characterisation
of the synagogue-kerugma is a report of the impression
made by what was probably the first appearance of
Jesus as a speakex in a synagogue, that in Capernaum.
They exclaimed, he tells ( I Z ~ ) What , is this, a new
doctrine ( G r G a X ~ ) ?and he explains that the novelty was
that Jesus spake not as the scribes, who appealed to
authorities, but as himself having authority : with the
confidence of personal insight and with the authority of
self-evidencing truth.
Mk. makes a general preliminary statement about
the preaching ministry in Galilee which may be viewed
as covering the synagogue preaching : ' Jesus came into
Galilee, preaching the Gospel of God, and saying, The
time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand : re-
pent ye, and believe in the Gospel ' (114 f. ). Hence it may
951-1814). The fourth Gospel makes Jerusalem and udza the
main scene of the activity of Jesus. The Synoptists lnow only
of one visit to Jerusalem-that during which he was crucified.
How long the ministry lasted we can only conjecture. There
is no chronology in the evannelic tradition. (See further.
CHRONOLOGY, $ 4 4 5 )
1 86SauKa!; The use of this word shows that the evanqelist
did not distinguish between the twu forms of ministry so sh'arply
as has been done above. Mt. uses both words (6i6a'uKwv rai
K ~ P ~ U U O423)
Y to describe the synagogue ministry. So Mk. nses
K ~ P ~ U U W in
V 139.
2438
 JESUS
be inferred that the constant theme of the kerugma was
the kingdom of God, that the kingdom was presented as a
boon rather than as a demand ; as good news ( ~ b a y y & h i o v ) 2. The teaching (8i8axd) U P instrzlction given tu
not as awful news-the aspect under which it appeared
i n the preaching of John ; and that the summons of the
preacher was not merely to repentance, but above all to
faith-i. e . , makethe good news welcome. The statement
is summary, and its language may be secondary, coloured
:somewhat by the dialect of a later time ; but even in
that case we are not left without a clue to the general
tenor of Jesus' popular discourses. W e might gather it
from a saying whose authenticity is as certain as its im-
port is significant : ' I came not to call the righteous, but
sinners ' (Mk. 2 17 Mt. 9 13 Llc. 5 32). The value of this
declaration lies in this, that, whilst spoken with reference
t o a particular occasion, it indicates a habitual attitude,
a fixed policy. Jesus addressed himself by preference to
those who could not be regarded as in the conventional
sense exemplary. The chosen audience reflects light
on the nature of the message. It was good tidings even
to the ignorant, the erring, the fallen, the outcast, bint-
ing that the past might be forgiven and forgotten, and
that the future offered great possibilities. What hope-
inspiring ideas of God and man and their relations
underlay such teaching ! The occasion on which the
saying was uttered also throws a contributory light on
the nature of the Galilean Gospel. Jesus had been eating
with ' publicans and sinners,' and was on his defence for
that act. In this connection the term ' call' must bear
the special sense of an invitation to an entertainment.
Lk.'s gloss ' to repentance' restricts and even obscures
the meaning. The kingdom, as Jesus preached it, was
a feast, and his call was a generous invitation to come
and enjoy its good things.
In his popular addresses Jesus would make free use
of parables. He spoke in parables to all classes, but
lo.Parables. especially to the people. 'Without
parable he was not wont to speak to
them ' (Mk. 4 3 4 ) . And of course the aim of the para-
bolic method of instruction, in as far as it had a
conscious aim and was not the spontaneous outcome of
natural genius, was to popularise the truths of religion : T h e ascent to the hill-top ( 3 1 3 ) was such a flight. The
simplification with a view to enlightenment. In the
conversation between Jesus and his disciples after the
utterance of the parable of the sower, as reported by all
the Synoptists, an opposite purpose, that of keeping the
people in darkness, seems to be avowed by the preacher.
It is not credible, however, that Jesus would either
cherish or avow such an inhuman intention, though it is
credible that in the bitterness of his disappointment at
the meagre fruit of his popular ministry he might express
himself in a way that might be misunderstood, on the
principle of reading intention' in the light of result.
None of the parables preserved in the Gospels is
,expressly connected with synagogue addresses, with the
.doubtful exception of the mustard seed and fhe Zeaenven
I( Lk. 13 18-21, cp env. IO). The treasure and the $ear( (Mt.
1344-46) may be a pair of parabolic gems (setting forth
the absolute worth of the kingdom of heaven) whose
,original setting was in such an address ; and the exquisite
parables concerning the pleasure of finding things lost
(Mt. 1812-14 Lk. 15) may have been first uttered on
a similar occasion, unless we suppose that the original
place of these parables was in an address to the publicans
gathered together in the house of Matthew (Mk. 215-17,
and parallels). The collection of parabolic utterances
preserved in the Gospels is so large and varied that
there is little room for complaint that it is not still
larger ; yet one cannot but reflect what a rich addition
t o the evangelic memovabih'a a vevbatim report of the
1 That faith occuDied a Drominent dace in the relieious idea
ofJesus appears fro& the ihcidents of'the centurion (Mt. 8 5-13), widely in different directions, are questions which cannot
the woman with an issue (Mk. 5zj-34 and parallels), and the
Syro-Phoenician woman (Mk. 7 24-30 Mt. 15 21.~8). See F AITH.
2 On this,see Jiilicher, Die GZeiceic/missre~e~/estl,
131.149 ;also
EinZ. i. d N T , 228.
2439
JESUS
parables spoken on the Galilean preaching tour would
have been.
disci$Ze$ ( p u 0 ~ ~ u-That
l). Jesus aimed at gathering
ll. Teaching. about him a circle of disciples >Tho
should be constantly, or at least much,
in his company is one of the most certain data of the
primitive tradition. He began the process of selection
very early (Mk. 116-20 Mt. 4 18-22), having some disciples
to accompany him on his first Galilean preaching
tour. He meant to make the selected ones---or at
least the inner circle of them-in his own happy, unfor-
getable phrase, 'fishers of men,' a playful allusion to
the secular occupation of those first chosen. The aim
involved, of course, special instruction, and that de-
manded leisure. The desire of Jesus to get leisure
for uninterrupted intercourse with his disciples, and more
particularly with the body of twelve which, according to
the testimony of all the evangelists, he formed out of a
larger company of followers, is specially apparent in
Mk. Through his preaching and healing ministries,
the fame of Jesus rapidly rose to such a pitch that
wherever he went large masses of people gathered
round him, masses too large for any synagogue to
hold, so that perforce he had to become a street or
field preachw. The work was not uncongenial ; but, in
the tropical climate of the lake shore, it was fatiguing,
and withal it was unsatisfactory. Much sowing, little
fruit : such was the feeling of the preacher, as expressed
in the parable of the Sower, which is a critical review
of the early Galilean ministry. Unwearied in well-
doing, Jesus yet began to feel with increasing depth of
conviction that, if anything was to come of his labours,
he must find time and opportunity for careful initiation
of the few more intelligent and susceptible hearers, that
continuing in his word they might become disciples
indeed, and by insight into truth become enlightened,
free, and apt to tench others. Mk. more than any
other evangelist shows Jesus making repeated earnest
efforts in this direction, fleeing from the crowd, as it
were, in quest of rest and leisure for the higher work.
voyage towards the eastern shore on the day of the
parabolic discourse from a boat was another. The un-
disguised manner in which Mk. allows this to appear
in his narrative is a good instance of his realism : ' They
[the disciples] take him with them, as he was in the
ship ' ( 4 36), sine apparatu (Bengel)and sine muva. Here
was flight along the only line of retreat, the shore being
besieged by the vast crowd, and not easy even along
that line, some of the people having got into boats to
be nearer the speaker (436). The voyage towards
Bethsaida at the north-western corner of the lake, after
the return of the twelve from their apprentice mission
( 6 3 2 ) , was a third (upsuccessful) attempt at escape.
T h e long excursions to the north, into the regions of
Tyre and Sidon p d Czsarea Philippi (724-37). were
likewise flights, endeavours to escape both from friends
and from foes; more successful because taking the
fugitives outside the boundaries of Israel, or into a
borderland where Jesus and his work were comparatively
unknown.
In connection with the first and the last of these re-
tirements some of the most important parts of the
didachd of Jesus were communicated to
l a . The his disciples. With the ascent to the
ITeaching bill is connected the great 'Sermon on
On the the Mount,' unreported by Mk., pre-
served by Mt. and Lk. in very diverse forms, yet withal
so like as to leave no reason for doubt as to their
identity. Which of the two reports comes nearest to
the original, and whether both do not diverge therefrom
be discussed here (see GOSPELS). The two points which
we are concerned to emphasise are : ( I ) that the discourse
was didachl, disciple-instruction, possibly with none
2440
 JESUS
present but disciples, though that is not made clear in
either narrative, and therefore might more appropriately
be called The Teaching on the HiZZ than The Sermon on
,the Moounf; and ( 2 ) that this teaching was given during
a season of leisure, p r d a b e Zastingfoy days. The latter
point has a most important bearing on the question of
the unity of the discourse as given in Mt. If we
assume that it was delivered all in one gush, and on
a single theme-say the antithesis between Pharisaic
righteousness and the righteousness of the kingdom as
conceived by Jesus-then certain portions must be
eliminated as irrelevant : e.g., The Lord’s Prayer (69-15)
and the counsel against care (625-34).l But if the teach-
ing on the hill continued for days, with different themes
for each day, then the unity must be understood in a
wide sense, and Mt.‘s version of the ‘sermon’ may
be a substantially correct summary of what Jesus said
on various topics not closely connected with one an-
other.2
The teaching on the hill as reported in Mt. affords
large insight into the thoughts. of Jesus on the essentials
of religion: God, man, the kingdom of God, the
righteousness of God.
Jesus taught no abstract doctrine concerning God, or
indeed on any subject. He did not say, God must be
13, Idea of thought of as Father, and then proceed to
God. explain what the title meant. H e simply
used the new name and defined as he
went along by discriminating use. The title ‘ Father ’
is applied to God no less than fifteen times in the sermon,
most suggestively, so as to ascribe to him by implication
a universal and a special providence (545 632)) benignant
and magnanimous in its action, doing good even to the
unthankful and the evil (545), a perfect ethical nature
whose perfection consists in gracious unmerited love (5
46-48), a spirit delighting in mercy and ready to forgive,
and desiring the same spirit to rule in the hearts of those
who have the supreme honour to be called God’s children
(614f.). an eye that carefully notes the most secret
devout acts of the sincere and humble worshipper
( 6 1 4,18), an ear that hears their prayers, and a heart
that is inclined to grant all the good desired or needed
(7.1).
That Jesus did not employ this new name for God
simply under the instinctive guidance of a happy religious
genius, but with full consciousness and deliberate pur-
pose, is intrinsically probable, and is attested by a
remarkable word ascribed to him in the evangelic tra-
dition, and preserved in substantially the same terms in
the first and third Gospels : ‘ No one knoweth the Son,
save the Father ; neither knoweth any one the Father,
save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son is pleased
to reveal him’ (Mt. 1 1 2 7 Lk. 1022). In view of the
statement in Lk.’s preface as to the method on which
he compiled his Gospel, a sober criticism will not readily
acquiesce in the theory that the passage in which this
text is embedded is a free poetical composition by the
evangelist in the spirit of Paulinism, and that it was
borrowed from him by the author of the canonical Mt.
writing at a later date.3 It is much more probable that
both evangelists found it in a common source containing
a collection of the sayings of Jesus, either in the form
which it assumes in extant MSS, or in that current
among the gnostics : ‘ No one knew the Father save the
Son, and the Son save the Father and he to whom the
Son shall reveal.’ Under either form the Logion implies
a peculiar relation, if not to God, at least to the con-
ception of God as Father, that of one who claimed to
have given currency to the name.
1 So Weiss in his Mafthiius-Evangebunz, and in his edition
of Meyer’s Conzm. on Mattki.w.
2 This view is taken by Lutteroth (Essai Z Z n t e r ~ e t a -
iion de quelques parties de PEaangile selon saint Matthim).
H e takes KaEicavsop (5 I ) in the sense of camping out (camjer)
pointing to Acts18 I T and Lk.244gas instances of the use of thd
word in a kindred sense.
3 So,Pfleiderer in UrchLristenfhum.
2441
JESUS
The whole section Mt. 1125.30 was probably a unity of which
Lk. (loa$) for some r e s o n gives only a fragment. In favour
of this view is the resemblance it bears to the prayer of Jesus
the son of Sirach (Ecclus. 51) which like it begins with a prayer
and ends with an invitation), in thk namd of wisdom, to come
and receive instruction. This resemblance has been used as an
argument against the genuineness of the Logion ‘come unto
me’ (Pfleiderer, Urchrist. 513). But it is perfectly conceivable
that Jesus was acquainted with Sirach, and that his utterance
was coloured by the language of its closing sentences. This
view meets the objection taken to the Logion on the ground of
the self-eulogy in some of its expressions (Martinqau, Seat of
Authority in Religion, 577-585). When he says I am meek
and lowly,’ Jesus of Nazareth speaks in the n a k e of wisdom
(one ofhis self-designations according to Resch, Agraplta, 273$),
as the earlier Jesus had spoken before him.
Jesus taught his doctrine of man on the same method
of incidental suggestion. H e asserted the worth of
14, Idea of man by comparisons sometimes patheti-
cally and even humorously understating
mLn. the truth, in one instance sublimely ade-
quate. A man is better, greater, of more worth to God,
and to himself, thinking rightly, than a bird (Mt. 626).
a sheep (Mt.1212), yea, than the whole world (Mk.
836). The truth implied is that the things compared
are really incommensurable. It is a Hebrew way of
asserting the ideal, absolute worth of humanity, a
method applied in the Epistle to the Hebrews to Chris-
tianity, which is declared to be better in various respects
than the Levitical religion, when what is meant is that
it is the absolute, perfect, therefore eternal, religion.
Man’s incomparable dignity in the teaching of Jesus
rests on the fact that he is a son of God, not merely a
creature, whether small as a bird or great as a world ;
a son indefeasibly, whether good or evil, just or unjust
(Mt.545). By this lofty conception of man’s relation
to God, rather than by expressed statement or laboured
argunient, Jesus brought immortality to light, ‘ God
is not the God of the dead, but of the living,’ he said
(Mt.2232). A fortiori he would have said: ‘God is
not the Father of the dead, but of the living.’
Not to be overlooked even in a summary statement
of Christ’s teaching concerning man is his assertion of
the rights of woman, in connection with
15. married relations (Mt. 53xJ, cp 193-9
Mk. 102-12). The Jewish doctors of the time for the
most part accepted the old Hebrew notion of a wife as
property bought and sold, and to be put away at the
pleasure of her husband. But they were zealous to have
the bill of divorcement (Dt. 241) in due form, that the
woman might be able to show that she was free to marry
again, and doubtless they flattered themselves that they
were thereby defending the rights of women. Jesus
asserted a more radical right of woman-not to he put
away, except when she put herself away by unfaithful-
ness. He thus raised anew the prophetic cry ‘ I hate
putting away’ (Mal. 2 x 6 ) . It was an act of humanity
of inestimable value to the highest interests of the race,
as well as an act of heroic courage.
By his friendly relations with the ‘publicans and
sinners ’ Jesus gave a practical and impressive expres-
16. Outcasts.~~ion of his doctrine bf man. -The
great social gathering of the outcasts
in Capernaum (Mk. 2 1 5 - r ~and 5arallelsT brought together
by Levi or Matthew, called doubtless for that immediate
local service, as well as for the ulterior wider service of
the apostleship, was a concrete assertion of the great
truth that a man at the worst is still a man, and a son
of God, and that all superficial cleavages of race,
descent, colour, occupation, or even character, are of
small account in comparison with that which is common
to all humanity, the soul.
The so-called feast in Levi’s house cannot have been merely
a private entertainment given by the newly called disciple to as
many of his old comrades as his dining chamber would accom-
modate. All the evanFelists say that there were many present.
Lk.’s expresiion is a great crowd’ (8,yhos rrohdr). The
meeting was probably in the court around which the buildings
of an eastern,house of any size are arranged and of the
dimensions of a congregation rather than of a hiriner party.
Jesus was the prime mover in the matter, and Levi merely
2442
 JESUS
his agent. I t was a deliberate attempt on Christ's part to get
into personal contact with the social outcasts of Capernaum.
By these kindred ideas of God and man and their
relations Jesus became inevitably the founder of a
universal religion, however narrow the limits within
which his own ministry was restricted. Those who,
like Baur and Weizsacker, have interpreted his teaching
in a universal sense have most truly divined his inmost
thoughts.
In setting forth the summum bonum as the kingdom
of God Jesus poured his new wine into a very old
17. Kingdom Vnguistic skin. But that the wine, the
idea connected with the phrase, was new,
of God. the parables of the new wine and the
new piece of cloth (Mk. 2215 and parallels) suffice to
prove. The kingdom he preached was ethical, spiritual,
(and therefore) universal in character : not political,
theocratic, national; at least national only to those
cherishing current Jewish expectations. The Beatitudes,
which form the sublime introduction to the Teaching
on the Hill, in either version of them, amply bear out
this assertion. Obviously so in Mt.'s version, really so
also, though not so obviously, in Lk.'s. Jesus may have
said : ' Blessed ye poor,' as Lk. reports, and the reporter
may have understood the term ' poor ' chiefly in a social
sense ; but it does not follow that his understanding in
this case, any more than in the case of the saying, ' I
came not to call the righteous,' exhausted the Teacher's
meaning. Jesus used words in a pregnant sense, and
in his mind the natural and the spiritual lay close to-
gether : witness the saying : 'few things (dishes) are
needful, or (rather) one' (thing)-;.&, the food that
endures for ever-Lk. l O 4 1 f . T h e high ideal of man
links together in his thought the social and the spiritual.
The poor man passes into the blessedness of the kingdom
whenever he realises what man is or may be. Poor in
purse or even in character, no man is beggared who
has a vision of man's chief end and good. If this be
idealism, then Jesus was an idealist. He was also a
poet, and words were symbols for him of thoughts which
no words could adequately express. T o make him the
herald of a theocratic particularistic kingdom of Israel
is to bring him down from these lofty regions to the
low level of dull prosaic commonplace.2
The kingdom of God, or of heaven, as it is usually
designated in the first Gospel, while in its ultimate
significance implying a high ideal of life, sonship
realised in a heroic career rife with tribulation (Mt.
610-IZ),is in its initial aspect, as already indicated,
a boon rather than a demand. Seek ye the kingdom
(as the highest good), said the Master to his disciples
(Mt. 6 3 3 ) . It is to be sought as the summum bonum,
in preference to the temporal good above which Pagan
aspiration rarely rises (Mt. 632): It is the bread which
perisheth not, the raiment whlch waxeth not old, the
treasure which cannot be stolen (Lk. 1233). T h e
quest of this supreme good, in singleness of mind, is
ever successful. 'Seek, and ye shall find' (Mt. 7 7 ) .
And the quest is the noblest of human endeavours.
He who so seeks the highest good fulfils at the same
time the highest duty of man. In this coincidence of
the chief good with the chief end lies the unique
distinction of the Christian religion as expounded by its
Founder.
Jesus carefully explained his conception of the ethical
ideaZ, both by positive statements and by keen caustic
ls. Ethical criticism of the system of religion and
morals prevalent among the Jews in his
ideal. time. Among the statements a foremost
1 Baur's view of the religion of Jesus as spiritual and
universal is entirely independent of his theoryas to the indebted-
ness of Jesus for these characteristlcs of his teaching to Greek
philosophy and Roman world-wide empire. We may hold aloof
from this theory, yet accept his vlew of the essential character-
istics of the Christianity of Christ.
2 This prosaic view pervades the treatment of Christ's teaching
in all the works of Dr. Bernhard Weiss.
2443
JESUS
place belongs to the golden rule ; what you wish men
to do to you do ye to them' (Mt.712)~for which
analogies can be found in other religions, but with this
difference, that, whilst in the teaching of Jesus the
rule assumes a positive form, in all other known
instances it is given negatively. So in the saying of
Confucius, ' do not to others what you would not wish
done to yourself' (Legge, Chinese Classics, 1x91). The
negative confines us to the region of justice; the positive
takes us into the region of generosity; for we wish
more than we can claim, or than the average man is ,
willing to do to others. Jesus would have a disciple to
be not merely GIKUKX but dyaeirs, spontaneously doing to
others all that a spirit of magnanimity prompts. The
golden rule covers only the duties arising out of human
relations. The summary of duty,-Love God with all
your heart, and your neighbour as yourself-given in
answer to a question at a later time (Mk. 1228-31).
covers the whole ground of obligation. Thus we have
religion and morality blent in one ideal as of co-ordinate
importance, a combination not lying to the hand in the
OT-the two great commandments, though both in the
law, are not given in one place (Dt. 64f: Lev. 1918)-
and still less in accordance with the spirit of the time.
In Rabbinism ritual was before morality, and the
tendency was to sacrifice morality in the interest of
religion. Jesus said : ethics before ritual-the essentials
of true religion consist in morality-placability before
sacrifice (Mt. 523), mercy before sacrifice (Mt. 9 q ) , filial
affection before sacrifice (Mt. 154-6 Mk. 79-13).
Whilst putting morality on a level with, or even in
some respects above, religion, Jesus was careful to
subordinate individual interests to the universal claims
of the kingdom of God : ' Seek ye his kingdom ' said
he to his disciples (Lk. 1231), implying if he did not say
' first ' (Mt. 6 33), food or raiment being relegated to the
second place. The ' Lord's Prayer' is constructed on
the same principle of subordination. First God's
glory, kingdom, and will ; then, only in the second place,
the temporal interest (daily bread), and even the
spiritual interests (pardon and protection from tempta-
tion), of the worshipper. Jesus insisted that this sub-
ordination must be carried the length of willingness to
part with life itself. First the things of God, then the
things of nien (Mk. 833). True to his great principle
that religion and morality are one, however, Jesus
gave his disciples to understand that the things of God
are at the same time those of deepest concern to man.
They are the true life of the spirit, for the sake-of which
one who understands the philosophy of life will gladly
part when needful with the lower life of the body (Mk.
835).
The antithetic presentation of the moral ideal was
given partly in didactic form, partly in the way of
occasional polemics. For the didactic aspect, which
concerns us here, we are indebted chiefly to Mt., in
whose version of the Sermon on the Mount. the
contrast between Jesus's interpretation of the law and
that current in the Rabbinical schools is worked out in
a series of examples (Mt. 521-48). This section of the
sermon is omitted almost entirely by Lk., whereby
the small part he has retained loses much in point.
The gist of the elaborate contrast is: The law as
interpreted by the scribes, externalised and restricted
in scope ; as interpreted by Jesus, inward and infinite.
Thou shalt not kiZZ, said the scribe ; thou shalt not hate
or despise, said Jesus. Thou shalt love thy neighbour,
and doing that thou doest enough, said (in effect) the
scribe; thou shalt love all, making no distinction
between fellow-countrymen or strangei.s, friend or foe,
except as to the form love takes, said Jesus. The
external is that which is seen; hence the tendency of
an outward morality to become a morality of ostentation.
Jesus used this morality, much in vogue in his time, to
emphasise by contrast the reserved retiring character
of true piety (Mt. 6 1-8 16-18). True goodness is in the
2444
 JESUS
heart, and the good man is content that it should be
there, visible only to the Father in heaT7eri.
3. The later teaching of Jesus will be referred to in
another connection. We pass, therefore, from the
teaching to the healing ministry. In
19. Healing doing so we make a transition from a
ministry : subject which is universally attractive to
evidence. one which is distasteful to many because
of its association with the idea of mimcb. The distaste
is felt not only by those who do not believe in the
miraculous, but also by not a few who, whilst not ad-
herents of the naturalistic school, have no sympathy with
the apologetic value attached to ' miracles ' as credentials
of revelation. The following statement will not bring
us iuto collision with this feeling. The mirucuZoousness
of the healing ministry is not the point in question :
what we are concerned with is the question of fact.
Now, as to this, the healing ministry, judged by
critical tests, stands on as firm historical ground as the
best accredited parts of the teaching.
The tripb tradition--i.e., the narrative common to all
the three Gospels-contains no less than nine reports of
healing acts, including the cases of the leper, the
madman of Gergesa, and the dead daughter of Jairus.
Then, in most of the reports the action of Jesus is so
interwoven with unmistakably authentic words (e.g., in
the case of the palsied man) that the two elements
cannot be separated: we must take the story a s it
stands or reject it entirely. That the healing ministry
was not only a fact but a great outstanding fact, is
attested by the popularity of Jesus, and by the various
theories which were invented to account for the remark-
able phenomena. Mk. gives a realistic, lifelike descrip-
tion of the connection between healing acts and the fame
of Jesus. The cure of a demoniac in the synagogue of
Capernaum (Mk. 1 2 3 ) creates a sensation even greater
than that produced by the discourse of the new preacher.
They remark to one another not only on the new
doctrine, but also on the authority which Jesus wields
over unclean spirits (127). The result is that in the
evening of the same Sabbath day, after sunset, the
people of the town gather at the door of the house
where Jesus resides, bringing their sick to be healed
(132). So, again, on his return to Capernaum, after
his preaching tour in Galilee, the report speedily spread-
ing that he had come back, a crowd assembles so large
and dense as to make access to him impossible except
through the roof of the house (21-4). Fresh recollec-
tions of the synagogue-sermon, but still more of the
Sabbath-evening cures, explain the popular enthusiasm.
The theories were various and curious. The relations of
Jesus had their theory, not so much indeed about the
healing acts as about the healer. Mk. reports (it is
one of his realisms) that they thought him out of his
senses (321). Much benevolence had made hini mad.
T h e beneficent deeds must have been there, else the
madness would not have been imputed. The Pharisees,
more suo, put a less friendly construction on the puzzling
phenomena, seeing in them not the acts of a man more
endowed with love and with power over diseases
(physical and mental) than was good for his own health
of body and mind, but the acts of a man in league with
the prince of darkness, an incarnation of Beelzebub
( B E E A @ ~ OgDp, , Mk. 322). [See BEELZEBUL.] This
was a very unlikely theory, as Jesus pointed out ; but
the thing to be noted is the existence of the theory,
showing, as it does, that there were facts imperiously
demanding explanation of some sort. Yet another
theory, too curious to be an invention of the evangelists
who report it (Mk. 616 Mt. 14z), originated in the palace
of Herod the murderer of the Baptist, and in his own
guilt - haunted mind. This Jesus of whose marvellous
works I hear is John risen again, the mysterious powers
of the other world manifesting themselves through the
resurrected man. The theory is perhaps absurd, yet
by its very absurdity it witnesses to extraordinary facts
2445
JESUS
arresting general attention, and forcing their way, how-
ever unwelcome, into kings' houses.
T h e healing ministry of Jesus presents a problem at
once for exegesis, for theology, and for science. The
20. Interpre- question for exegesis is, What do the
tation. reports necessarily imply ? Was the
leper cured, or only pronounced clean?
Was the bread that fed the thousands miraculously
produced, or drawn forth by the bearing of Jesus from
the stores in possession of the crowd; or is the story
merely a symbolic embodiment of the life-giving power
of Jesus in the spiritual sphere? Was the daughter of
Jairus really dead? For theology the question is, What
bearing has the healing ministry on the personality of
Jesus? Here is certainly something to wonder at, to
start the inquiry : What manner of man is this? Is it
only a question as to the manner of the man, of a
man fully endowed with powers not unexampled
elsewhere, at least in kind, though lying dormant in
ordinary men? Or do the phenomena take us outside
the human into the region of the strictly divine? For
science the question is, Can the acts ascribed to Jesus
be accounted for by any known laws of nature-e.g., by
' moral therapeutics,' or the emotional treatment of
disease? Care must be taken in attempting to answer
this question not to understate the facts. In the case
of demouiacal possession, for example, it is making the
problem too easy to say that that was a merely im-
aginary disease. The diseases to which the name is
applied in the Gospels were in some cases serious
enough. The 'demoniac' of Gergesa was a raving
madman; the boy at the foot of the hill of Trans-
figuration was the victim of aggravated epilepsy. The
only door of escape open for scientific scepticism in
such cases is doubt as to the permanence of the alleged
cure.
There is one thing about which we may have com-
...
fortable certainty. Whether miraculous or not, whether
inga;tn the works of a mere man, or of one
of who is a man and more, these healing
acts are a revelation of the love of Jesus,
character. a manifestation of his 'enthusiasm of
humanity,' to be placed beside the meeting with the
publicans of Capernaum as an aid to the understanding
of his spirit and aims. By that meeting he showed his
interest in a despised class of men; by the healing
ministry he showed his interest in a despised part of
human nature, the body, and so' evinced the healthy
catholic nature of his conception of redemption. H e
was minded to do all the good in the world he could.
H e was able to heal men's bodies as well as their souls ;
and he did it, thereby protesting against that pagan
notion of the body, as something essentially evil and
worthless, which underlies all modes of asceticism, and
against a false spiritualism which regards disease of the
'body as essential to the health of the soul. The heal-
ing ministry shows Jesus, not as a thaumaturge bent
on creating astonishment, but as in a large, grand,
human way the friend of men, bearing by sympathy
their sicknesses as well as their sorrows and sins as a
burden in his heart1
4. The conjz'ct with the rehgious Zeaders of Zsrael,
called in the Gospels ' scribes and Pharisees,' formed a
22. Pharisaic very essential part of the public life of
hostility. Jesus. It soon brought that life to a
tragic end. The Gospel of Lk. by
toning down that -aspect, omitting much of Christ's
poleniic against Pharisaisrn, and mitigating the asperity
1 Such is the view of Christ's healing ministry presented in
Mt.:witness the prophetic citation in 8 17. There IS no desire
in the first Gospel to magnify the miracle. Peter's mother-in-
law simply suffers from a feverish attack. The sympathy of
Jesus is the point of interest, which was the same whether the
fever was severe or slight. In Lk. it is a great fever (4 38)
and throughout this Gospel care is taken to magnify the power
as well as the benevolence of Jesus. Mk., on the other hand,
goes so far as to say that Jesus was not able to do any mighty
works in Nazareth, because of the unbelief of the people (6 55').
2446
 JESUS
of what is retained by representing it as uttered under
the control of friendly social relations (three feasts in
Pharisees' houses peculiar to this Gospel 736-50 1137-44
141-24), makes it impossible to form a clear idea of
the religious environment of Jesus, of the heroic war-
fare he had to wage, and of the forces that were at
work, moving steadily on towards Calvary. For in-
formation on these points, we n u s t turn to the pages
of Mt. and Mk., especially of the latter, in which the
course of the conflict is vividly depicted. A few anec-
dotes bring before us realistically Pharisaic hostility, in
its rise and progress, and prepare us for the end (Mk.
2-36).
Collision was inevitable. Radical contrariety of view
on the whole subject of conduct in religion and in
morals was its deepest cause, and the popularity of
Jesus as a preacher and a healer was a constant and
increasing source of irritation.
The contrast (1z ~ f .) between Jesus and the scribes, in
their respective styles of preaching or teaching, remarked
on by the second evangelist, was not unnoticed by
the people. If they did not say, How unlike the
scribes ! they at least showed the new teacher an amount
of consideration not accorded to the scribes. Therefore,
we are not surprised to learn that when Jesus returned
from his preaching tour in Galilee to Capernaum the
scribes were in a fault-finding mood ( 2 6 ) . They took
care, however, to conceal the cause of their chagrin,
selecting as the point of assault neither the preaching
nor the healing, but the ' blasphemous ' word of pardon : alone is of importance.
'Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.' The Capernaum
mission to the ' publicans and sinners ' ( 215-17) supplied
the next occasion for offence. These classes had begun
to take an interest in Jesus. 'There were many (of
them there), and they began to follow him ' (215). They
had doubtless heard the story of the palsied man, and
how Jesus had been sympathetic towards the sinner, and
had been regarded by the scribes as a blasphemer. They
naturally desired to see and hear and know the interest-
ing blasphemer. The offence in this instance lay in
eating with such people-ie., in having comrade-
like relations with them. It was a complicated many-
sided offence : a slight on the national feeling of Jews,
who resented whatever reminded them of their political
humiliation; an indirect slight on the laws which the
classes fraternised with habitually neglected ; it was
also-though this might not be so clearly perceived-a
slight on the prerogative of Israel as an elect people, an
evil omen of an approaching revolution when the king-
dom of God would be thrown open to all.
Next come Sabbatic controversies trivial in occasion,
but cutting contemporary Jewish prejudice to the
sabbith,
23.
etc.
quick, and greatly intensifying the ex-
asperation (223-28 31-6). These en-
counters revealed a radical contrarietv ambitious request of James and John followed soon
between Jesus and the scribes in their respective con-
ceptions of the Sabbath. Jesus expressed the difference
in a saying preserved only in Mk. (2 27) : ' The sabbath
was made for man, and not man for the sabbath.' T h e
remark implied a manner of conceiving God, man, and
religion, different from that in vogue, and it is not sur-
prising that from that day forth dislike began to deepen
into hatred, harbouring murderous intentions. T h e
author of Mk. winds up his narrative of the healing
of the withered hand with the significant statement : (Mt. 18 Mk. 933-50).
'the Pharisees went forth and straightway, with the
Herodians, took counsel against him, how they might
destroy him' ( 3 6 ) . The reference to the HERODIANS tives,
( T . v . ) , little spoken of in the Gospels, signifies that the woman, the second feeding, the demand for a sign-in short, the
Pharisees now began seriously to aim at the life of Jesus,
and naturally felt that the assistance of persons having
influence at the court would be valuable.
Hereafter the foes of Jesus come before us attacking
his healing ministry on a side at which it appeared to
them vulnerable. The meeting with the outcasts of
Capernaum had given a choice opportunity for a
2447
JESUS
calumnious assault upon his moral character, of which
they seem to have taken advantage to the full extent
(Mt. 1119). The cures of demoniacs formed the basis of
the attempt to rob him of the fame fairly won by his
wonderful works (Mk. 3 22). The cures themselves
could not be denied, nor the power they evinced ; but
was the power necessarily from heaven, might it not be
from an opposite quarter? The men who made the
malign suggestion knew better ; but it was enough for
them that the suggestion was plausible. Hence the
solemn warning of Jesus against blasphemy-Le., speak-
ing evil of that which is known to be good (Mk. 329).
The next encounter had reference to ritual ablutions
(Mlc. 71-23 Mt. 15 I - Z O ) . ~ This time, Jesus assumed the
24. Ritual. offensive, and exposed the vices inherent
in the systems represented by the scribes ;
declaring in effect that the hedging of the Law by the
multiplied rules of legal doctors had for its result the
setting of the Law aside, and giving as an example the
doctrine of Corban in its bearing on the fifth command-
ment. This was offence enough ; but Jesus added to it
by an appeal to the multitude, to whom he addressed
one of those great emancipating sayings which sweep
away the cobwebs of artificial systems better than
elaborate argument-that which defiles is not what
goeth into the mouth but what cometh out of it. ' I t
was a virtual abrogation, not merely of the traditions of
the Elders, but even of the ceremonial law of Moses : a
proclamation of the great truth that moral defilement
When it had come to this, a crisis was at hand.
Tesus knew it. and retired from the scenes of strife.
25. Jesus sees partly to escape for a while from the
malice of his foes, and still more to
the crisis. prepare his disciples, by seasonable
instructions, for the inevitable end. The time of these
later instructions was that of the northerly excursions
already referred to, and their main theme was sacri-
&e. Jesus began to tell his disciples plainly that
he himself must suffer death at the hands of the
religious leaders, and that they and all faithful souls
must be prepared to endure hardship for truth and
righteousness (Mk. 830-34 Mt. 1621-24 Lk9z1-23) ; and
from this time forth he devoted much attention towards
developing in the twelve the heroic temper demanded
by the situation. It was no easy task; for, while the
master was continually preoccupied with the cross, the
disciples were often thinking vain thoughts. T h e
contrast is depicted in a realistic manner by Mk.
' They were in the way, going up to Jerusalem ; and
Jesus was going before them : and they were amazed '
(1032). They could not comprehend the intense
preoccupation betrayed in the master's manner. It
filled them with awe. The sequel explains. T h e
after, as comic scenes succeed tragic ones in a drama.
Hence the need for inculcating such recondite truths of
the kingdom as that greatness comes by service ; that
childlikeness is the condition of entrance into the king-
dom ; that ambition aspiring to greatness and trampling
on weakness is a cursed passion, deserving drowning,
with a heavy millstone round the neck, in the deepest
part of the sea ; and that only through brotherly kind-
ness and charity can one hope to win the favour of God
1 The preceding incidents are common to the three Synoptists.
This one is omitted by Lk. along with a group of other narra-
including the second storm on the lake, the Syro-Phcenician
whole of Mt. 1422-1612 and Mk. 64=-8zr except that Mk.
8 15 Mt.166=Lk. 121. These omissions were probably in-
tentional on Lk.'s pnrt, the incidents being known to him, hut
passed over for various reasons.
2 The Gospels speak of two excursions-one to the regions of
Tyre and Sidon, another to the neighbourhood of Cresarea
Philippi. Even so conservative a critic as Weiss is inclined to
resolve the two into one by treating the second feeding as a
merely literary duplicate of the first.
2118
 JESUS
During the period of wandering in the north the
disciple Peter, the foremost man among the twelve, and
26. Messiah. usually their spokesman on important
occasions, made an eventful declaration
concerning the master. Jesus had himself led up to it
by introducing into their conversation, as they journeyed
towards Czsarea.Philippi, the topic : ‘ W h o do men
say that I a m ? ’ (Mt. 1613-20 Mk. 827-30 Lk. 918-21).~
That general question disposed of, there came a second :
And you, who say you that I a m ? The answer of
Peter was : Thon art the Christ (Mk. 829). I t was
apparently the answer which Jesus anticipated and
wished ; which would imply that he regarded himself as
one in whom the Messianic hope of the Jewish people
was fulfilled. Can this indeed have been so ? Can such
an one as Jesus, so wise and good, and so utterly out of
sympathy with the religious spirit of his time, have
thought himself the Messiah, or even taken any in-
terest in the Messianic idea? It is evident that one
occupying the position of Jesus as a religious teacher
could not escape having some conscious attitude to-
wards that idea, friendly or indifferent or hostile. And
it is certain that he would be utterly unsympathetic
towards the Messianic ideas current among the Jews of
his time. Pharisaic notions of the Messianic king and
kingdom would be as distasteful to him as Pharisaic
notions of the Law, of righteousness, of God, and of
man. His attitude towards the whole circle of ideas
associated with conventional religion was, without doubt,
that of a radical sceptic. But he did not live in the
region of negation. His way was to discard unwelcome
ideas and put better ones in their place. H e did this in
connection with all the other subjects above mentioned,
and doubtless he acted on the same principle in
connection with the Messianic hope-this all the more
decisively because that hope was not rabbinical but pro-
phetic in its origin, associated with some of the most
spiritual aspirations of O T saints and seers, if also find-
ing expression occasionally in materialistic or political
representations of the good time coming. By elective
affinity Jesus would choose the purest and loftiest
elements in prophetic delineations, and out of these form
his Messianic idea. From certain indications in the
Gospels-the voice from heaven at the Baptism and the
Transfiguration, the text of the discourse in the syna-
gogue of Nazareth, the intimate connection between the
confession of Peter and the first distinct intimation of
the approaching Passion-it may be inferred that
Deutero-Isaiah was the chief source of his conception,
and that his Messiah was oiie endowed abundantly with
the charisma of .?om (Is. 61), therefore well-pleasing to
God (Is. &!I), and destined to be a man of sorrow
(Is. 53).
Messiah stands for an ideal, the summum donzm
embodied in a person. The Jews believed that such a
person would come. Jesus might very sincerely share
the expectation, as the Baptist did. Could he also
regard himself a s the coming one? H e could not, if a
Messianic consciousness implied self-asserting preten-
sions, or, generally, states of feeling incompatible with a
lowly spirit. He could, if the Messianic vocation pre-
sented itself to his mind as a duty, rather than as a
dignity, as a summons to a career of suffering, a tempting
to renunciation rather than to usurpation. So, in fact,
it did appear to him. The man of sorrow in Is. 53 is
ideal Israel ; the faithful in Israel, the men who stand
for God and righteousness in an evil world, conceived
poetically as an individual. Jesus thought of himself as
that individual, the representative of all who live sacri-
ficial and therefore redemptive lives. See MESSIAH.
All goes to bear. out this assertion-e.g. the self-
designation ‘ Son of man,’ so much used by Jesus. The
1 In consequence of the long omission, this section in Luke
follows immediately after the first feeding, and there is no in-
dication that it did not happen at the same place. There is no
trace of the excursion to the north in his narrative.
2449
JESUS
meaning of this title he never defined any more
27. , Son of than he formally defined the name ‘Father’
applied to God. It is doubtful if O T
texts can give us much help towards
fixing its import. W e must watch the Son of man in the
act of so designating himself, defining the name by dis-
criminating use. Doing this, we receive the impression
that the title is chosen because it is one that makes no,
claims. In Aramaic it means simply the man.’ If it
be Messianic, through the use made of it in Daniel and
the Book of Enoch, it is furtively so, an incognito.
The admiring people frequently called Him ‘Son of
David,’ and the early Christian Church laid stress on
the title as an important link in the chain of Messianic
proof. Hence the genealogies in Mt. and Lk. Even
Paul recognises the Davidic descent as in its own
place important (Rom. 13). There is no evidence that
Jesus repudiated the title ; but the title ‘ Son of man ’
does show that he regarded the other (as implying
physical descent and therefore regal rights) as of little
significance. Others said Son of D a z i d ; he said Son of
&fun.2 See S ON OF MAN.
The message from the imprisoned Baptist to Jesus
(Mt. 11zf. Lk. 7 1 8 J ) is not without significance in this
connection : ‘Art thou the coming one?’ By some
( e . g . , Holtzmann in Handcomm.) the question is viewed
as the utterance rather of a budding than of a waning
faith. But the comments of Jesus on the message and
on the man who sent it, bearing a stamp of authenticity
upon them and probably taken by the two evangelists
from the Book of Logia, demand the latter inter-
pretation. ‘ Blessed is he who findeth no cause of
stumbling in me.’ John had found cause of stumbling
in Jesus, in whom from the first his prophetic eye had
detected an extraordinary person. John’s Messiah was
to be an iconoclast, a hewer down of barren trees and
effete institutions, one coming in the fury of the Lord to
destroy by the wind and fire of judgment. Jesus
hitherto had been nothing of the kind ; rather a preacher
of good news, even to the immoral ; a healer of disease,
a teacher of wisdom, with nothing like a fan in his
hand, save one of searching moral criticism on the ways
of scribes and Pharisees. Therefore, John began to
fear that, after all, this was not the Christ. His fear is
a valuable testimony to the kind of Christ Jesus believed
in and was : one seeking to save rather than to judge,
and just on that account liable to be niisunderstood
even by a John, and to be despised and rejected by a
religious but ungodly world. How far apart the two
prophets were in their ideas and tendencies, may be
estimated from the striking remark made by Jesus
concerning the Baptist : ‘the least in the kingdom of
heaven is greater than he’ (Mt. 1111).
The triumphal entry into Jerusalem by Jesus towards
the close of his career may swni to conflict with the view
28. Entry into set forth-above, and to exhibit a Messiah
Jerusalem. parading his claims. The story belongs
to the triDle tradition, and must be ac-
cepted as historical (Mt. 2 i 1-11 Mk. 111-11 Lk. 1929-44) ;
but cp H OSANNA . Mt., after his usual manner, repre-
sents the whole transaction as happening in order that a
certain prophetic oracle might be fulfilled. So he viewed
it, and so he wishes his readers to view i t ; but it
does not follow that Jesus rode into the holy city
on the foal of an ass with conscious intention to fulfil
prophecy. The less intention on his part, the greater
the value of any uniformity between prophecy and
fact. Action with intention might show that he
1 The discussion between Jesus and the scribes in the temple
3n the relation of the Christ to David has been interpreted in this
sense. But the question of Jesus does not necessarily imply
lenial in toto of Davidic descent, or more than a hint as to the
comparative unimportance of it. It meant in effect : You begin
Bt the wrong end,, physical descent ; and it lands yon in an
unspiritual conception of Messiah.
2 The passages in which the title is used in an apocalyptic
sense seem to breathe a different spirit. They cannot be
discussed here.
2450
 JESUS
claimed to he, not that he was, the Messiah. On the
other hand, his right to he regarded as the Messiah
would have stood where it was though he had entered
Jerusalem on foot. The actual mode of entrance could
possess at most only the value of a symbol. And Jesus
seems to have been in the mood to let it have such
value, and that just because it was in harmony with his
habit of avoiding display and discouraging vulgar
Messianic hopes. There was really no pretentiousness
in riding into Jerusalem on the foal of an ass. It was
rather the meek and lowly one entering in character.
The symbolic act was in harmony with the use of the
title ' Son of man,' shunning Messianic pretensions, yet
showing himself as the true Messiah in a deeper way.
Mlc.'s narrative of the incident is to be preferred as
preserving most of the primitive simplicity. It is only
in his version that Jesus instructs his disciples to tell the
man from whom the young ass is being borrowed that
i t will he returned when he has had his use of it (Mk.
11 3). Some modern commentators, influenced by con-
ventional notions of dignity, will not allow even Mark
to put the matter so. But he does ; it is one of his
realisms.
The thoughts of Jesus, then as always, were humble ;
but those of his followers were more ambitious, and
such as to provoke the ire of those who sought his
undoing. They shouted Hosannas in his honour, a s
to the Son of David through whom the 'long hoped-for
kingdom was about to come. The very children in the
streets, according to Mt. (21 ts), caught up the
cry, to the chagrin of the guardians of conventional
proprieties. The enthusiasm of the people who had
come up with Jesus to keep the feast of the passover-
men and women from Galilee, proud of their prophet
and king-was his death-knell. H e had come up
to Jerusalem fully convinced that he was going to
meet death. Therefore, he used his short time
to hear a final testimony against plausible falsehood
and sham holiness, and for truth and godliness. Many
incidents and utterances are packed into that eventful
week-the cleansing of the Temple, parables of judg-
ment ( T w o sons, Vinedrersers, Marriage of the King's
son), sundry encounters with captious disputants, and a
sublime anti-Pharisaic discourse in which the foibles
and vices of a degenerate piety are depicted with pro-
phetic plainness and artistic felicity (Mt. 23). During
that fatal week last words had to he spoken to dis-
ciples, among which was a foreboding reference to the
approaching judgment-day of Israel, accompanied by
useful hints for their guidance in a perilous time (Mk. 13
Mt. 24 Lk. 21). The tender pathos of the situation is
immortalised in the anointing in Bethany (Mt. 26 6-13
Mk. 14 3-9), the holy supper (Mt. 26 26-29 Mk. 14 22-25
Lk. 22 17-20), and the agony in Gethsemane (Mt. 26 36-46
Mk. 14 32-42 Lk. 22 39-46).
The story of the passion is told at great length, with
much agreement, though also with many variations, in
all the four Gospels, a sure index of the
passion' intense interest taken in the tragic theme
within the apostolic church. This interest would not
he of late growth. When the apostles began to preach
Jesus crucified and risen, they would encounter the eager
demand, Tell us how it happened ! Faith would make
three demands for information concerning its object :
What did he teach? What did he d o ? What did he
suffer ? Some think that the demand for information con-
cerning the teaching came first and was first met.
But even those who, like Holtzmann, take this view regard
the history of the passion as the nucleus of the narrative
department of the evangelic tradition. First the logia,
then the passion drama, then the anecdotes of memorable
acts. Whether this was the true genetic order of the
1 The true reading is aA8Cr a h b v &ou&AAar &Arv where
1r4Arv implies that the reference is to returning the colt to its
owner not to the readiness with which the owner, after explana-
tions, &ill send it to Jesus.
2451
JESUS
three masses of oral tradition, which in combination make
up our evangelic records, may reasonably be doubted.
The passion group perhaps took shape earliest. The
apostles would have to tell at once what they knew,-the
main factsof the case,-especiallywhenpreaching outside
Jerusalem. Thus began to form itself the passion-
chronicle: the main facts first, then this nucleus
gradually gathering accretions of minor incidents, till
by the time written records began to he compiled the
collection of passion-memorabilia had assumed the form
which it bears in, for example, the Gospel of Mk. The
presumption is that the collection as it stands there is
the truth, or at least the truth as far as it could he
ascertained.
For modern criticism the story, even in its most historic
version, is not pure truth, hut truth mixed with doubtful
30. Critical legend. Still, even when it is ex-
amined with a critical microscope, as it
has recentlv been bv Dr. Brandt.l not
a few of the relative incidenk stand ;he test. Betrayal
by one of the twelve, desertion by all of them, denial by
Peter, death-sentence under the joint responsibility of
Jewish rulers and Roman procurator, assistance in
carrying the cross from Simon of Cyrene, crucifixion on
a hill called Golgotha, the crime charged indicated by
the significant inscription on the cross-beam, ' King of
the Jews,'2 death if not preceded by a prayer for the
murderers, or by the despairing cry ' My God, my God,'
at least heralded by a loud voice. In these eight
particulars we have the skeleton of the story, all that is
needful to give the passion its tragic interest, or even to
form the basis for theological constructions. The
details omitted-the process hefore the Sanhedrin, the
interviews with Pilate and Herod, the mockery of the
soldiers, the preferential release of Barabhas, the sneers
of passers-by, the two thieves, the parting of the raiment,
the words from the cross, the preternatural concomitants
of death-arc more or less of the nature of accessories,
enhancing the impressiveness of the picture, suggesting
additional lessons, hut not changing the character of the
event.
Still, even accessories arc not to he lightly sacrificed.
Critical estimates arc to he received with caution even
in a historical interest, and to measure their value it is
important to have a clear idea about the nature of the
interest taken by the primitive church in the story of the
passion. Now, there can he no doubt that along with
sympathy with the fate of a beloved Master went a
theoretic or dogmatic interest, at least in a rudimentary
form. There was a desire to harmonise the passion
with faith in the Messiahship of Jesus. This was
obviously a vital matter for disciples. They could not
continue to believe in Jesus as the Christ unless they
could satisfy themselves that he might he the Christ,
the cross notwithstanding; nor could their faith he
triumphant unless they could further satisfy themselves
that he was all the more certainly the Christ just because
he was crucified. The words of the Master concerning
suffering as the appointed lot of all faithful souls might
help them to attain this insight. With this doctrine as
a key, they would see new meanings in OT texts, and
graduallylearnfrom histories, Psalms, and prophecies that
the path appointed for the godly, and therefore above all
for the Messiah, was a path of sacrifice. Thenceforth
unison between O T experiences and teaching and
the incidents of the passion would become proofs of
the Messiahship of Jesus. The offence of the cross
would be turned into an apology for faith in the crucified.
1 Die Evangelische Geschichte und der Ursjrzmg des Chris-
fenthums auf Grwtdeiner Kritih der Berichte u l r r das Leiden
und die A/ferstehungjesu 7893.
9 This points to Messiani'c pretensions imputed or confessed.
But such pretensions had two aspects, a religious and a political.
It was the religious aspect that was dealt with in the trial before
the Sanhedrin as reported by the Synoptists ; hut of courbe it
would he the political aspect that the Sanhedrists brought under
the notice of Pilate. The Messianic idea would have no interest
for him except in so far as it involved a claim to temporal power.
2452
 JESUS
Were those primitive apologists content with cor-
respondence between texts and undeniable facts ? Did
they invent ‘facts’ to suit Hebrew oracles, so as to
bring out correspondence even in curious details and
make the apologetic as convincing as possible? There
was certainly a temptation to do so, and we are not
entitled a p&n’ to assume that they did not yield to
the temptation in any instance. On the other hand, we
must be on our guard against too hastily assuming the
contrary. The probability is that, on the whole, facts
suggested texts, instead of texts creating facts. T h e
reasonableness of this statement may be illustrated by
a n example taken from the history of the infancy in Mt.
The last of several prophetic citations in that chapter is,
a He shall be called a Nazarene’ (223). See N AZARETH .
T h e fact that Nazareth was the home of Jesus is inde-
pendently certain. It is equally certain that, but for
the fact, the supposed prophetic citation would never
have occurred to any one’s mind ; for it is the weakest
link in the chain of prophetic evidence for the Christ-
hood of Jesus. This instance suggests that what faith
was busy about in these early years was not the manu-
facturing of history, but the discovering in evangelic facts,
however minute, the prophetic fulfilment5 which are
sometimesso far-fetched as to make it inconceivable how
they could ever have been thought of unless the facts
had gone before. This general observation may be
applied to some of the most pathetic incidents in the
passion history-the prayer for forgiveness, the taunts
of passers-by, the casting of lots for possession of the
garments.
If legendary elements of a supernatural character
found their wav into the traditions. it is not to be
31. Ethical wondered at in connection with events
significance. which appealed so powerfully to the
imaeination of believers. The thine to
b e noted is that when criticism has done its work-the
passion narratives remain in their main details history,
not legend. A history how profoundly significant as
well as moving ! With its theological import we have
here no concern ; but we may not leave such a theme
without briefly indicating its ethical lessons. The
crucifixion of Jesus exhibits in a uniquely impressive
manner the destiny of righteouiness in this world. H e
was crucified not by accident, not altogether or even
mainly through misunderstanding, but because his
wisdom and goodness were inconvenient and trouble-
some. The passion history further sets before us a story
not of fate merely, but of love. It is the story of one
who was willing to die. He knew more or less dis-
tinctly what was to happen, consented to it, and was
helped to do it by the thought that out of the wrong
and evil befalling himself good to others would come.
In proof of this statement, it is sufficient to point to the
Lord‘s supper. The passion-history, finally, encourages
large hope for the world.
Christianity could not have entered on its victori-
ous career unless the followers of the Crucified had
32. Words believed that he not only died hut also
about the rose again. This is acknowledged even by
those who, like Dr. Ferdinand Baur, have
future, themselves no faith in the resurrection. The
primitive disciples believed that their Master rose ‘ on
the third day,’ and that he would soon come to the earth
again; and this faith and hope became the common
possession of the apostolic church. The faith and the
hope both find support and justification in the words of
Jesus as reported by the evangelists. Sad predictions of
approaching doom have added to them the cheering
words, ‘and shall rise again ’ (Mk. 931 and parallels).
Many sayings promise the coming of the Son of man in
glory, and that speedily, even within the lifetime of the
present generation. These sayings present one of the
hardest problems for the student of the Gospels : on
one side a critical problem which has to deal with the
question how far the words of Jesus have been coloured
2453
JETHER
by the hopes of the apostolic age ; on another side, an
exegetical one having for its task to interpret these
words in harmony with others which seem to imply not
only a delayed parousia (parables of the Ten Virgins,
the Upper Servant playing the Tyrant, and the U+ust
Judge), but also an indefinitely protracted Christian era
(parables representing the kingdom as subject to the
law of growth-the Sower, the Wheat and Tares, the
Mustard seed, and, above all, the SeedgrowinggraduaZZyly,
peculiar to Mk. 426-29 and his most valuable distinctive
contribution to the stock of evangelic traditions).
Though some of the relative logia belong to the later
and less accredited stratum of tradition, there is no
reason to doubt their genuineness. Jesus seems to
have had two ways of speaking about the future-
partly because, as he himself confessed, he had no
clear vision of time‘s course (Mk. 1332) ; partly owing to
the purpose his utterances were meant to serve. Some
of them were promises meant to cheer (Mk. 9 2 and
parallels) ; some, didactic statements bearing on the
nature of the kingdom of God (Mk. 426-29). In the
former the advent is appropriately represented as near ;
in the latter it is by tacit implication indefinitely remote.
T h e words of Jesus concerning the future show
limitation of vision. In other directions we may dis-
33. Con-:over indications that he was the child of his
elusion, time and people. But his spiritual intuitions
are pure truth, valid for all ages. God, man,
and the moral ideal cannot be more truly or happily
conceived. Far from having outgrown his thoughts on
these themes, we are only beginning to perceive their
true significance. How long it will be before full
effect shall be given to his radical doctrine of the
dignity of man ! How entirely in accord with the moral
order of the world, as interpreted by the whole history
of mankind, his doctrine of sacrifice as at once the
penalty and the power of righteousness in an evil world !
The purity of the doctrine may seem to be compromised
by occasional references to the reward of sacrifice, e.g.,
‘Great is your reward in heaven ’ (Mt. 5 1 2 ) ; things
renounced are to be received back an hundredfold (Mk.
1030). But the id,ea of reward cannot be eliminated
from ethics. The heroic man is and must be blessed.
The apocalyptic presentation of the reward in the
Gospels is a matter of form. The essential truth is
that it is ever well with the righteous.
Besides the books referred to in the article, and the many
Lives of Jesus, the following works may be consulted :-
Wendt, Die Lehre Jesu; Weizsacker, das
34. Literature, ApostoZische ZeitaZtel-; Wellhausen, Isv.
u. ]ad. Gesch. ; Baldensperger, dm Sel6st-
dnuusstseinJesu inz L ichte dwMessianischen Hoffnungenseiner
Z e i t : Harnack, Dogmengeschichte. The first two and the
last of these works have been translated.
On the sources generally, compare GOSPELS. For History
of Period see CHRONOLOGY, $9 43-63, H ERODIAN F AMILY , and
ROME. konternporary life and thought are illustrated in such
articles as ESSENES, HERODIANS, PHARISEES, SADDUCEES,
SCRIBES, SYNA~OGUE, TEMPLE. Further details of life and
teaching are dealt with under such headings as NATIVITY,
R ESURRECTION A N D ASCENSION NARRATIVES, WONDERS,
P ARABLES (cp FIG-TREE HUSKS LEAVEN, SCORPION, VIRGINS,
and so forth), LORD’S PLAYER, ~~ESSIAH SO, N O F GOD, SON O F
MAN, ESCHATOLOGV 82 On the names of persons and
places mentioned in ’the g s p e l s , see the separate articles
(PZaces: BETHABARA BETHANY, BETHESDA, BETHLEHEM,
BETHSAIDA, C A P E R N ~ UDM ,
ALMANUTHA , EMMAUS, GETH-
S E M A N E JERUSALEM OLIVES [MT. OF], N AIN, NAZARETH,
SALIM, ’SVCHAR, SILOAM: Persons : the several evangelists
and apostles also CLOPAS HEROD JOSEPH (NT [z]),J OHN THE
BAPTIST, LAZARUS,
LYSKNIAS,
M~RTHM A ARY, NATHANAEL,
NICODEMUS, PILATE,
QUIRINIUS,
and t h l like). A. B. B.
JETHER (TQ’ ; k e e p [BAL]).
I. Ex. 418 EVme. ( d o p [BAL]), another form of J ETHRO
[q.?~.]. Sam. and some MSS have iin-. I
z Gideon’s first-born son (Judg. S 20).
3: The father of Amasa (1 K. 2 5 32 [om. A]) by Abigail. In
z S. 1725 (MT) he is called I THRA (N!!?; ietra; j$L; LFSPW
[Jos.] : hut to000 [BA ; so B in I Ch.]), and described, according
to the best reading, as a Jezreelite. In T Ch. 2 r7, however, he
aDpears as an Ishmaelite : hence Thenins, Wellhausen, Driver,
Klostermann, Budde, Llihr, H. P. Smith read ? $ N p D p in Sam.
2454
 JETHETH
But the rival reading *!RYl!! is less likely to be a conjectural
emendation (see ABIGAIL, 2 ; JEZREEL i., 2).
4. A Jerahmeelite (I Ch. 232). See J ERAHMEEL , 5 2.
j. A Judahite, I Ch. 417 (mOeppaL [B]).
6. An Ashelite, I Ch. 738(~eBqp[Bl, ceOpav[Ll), see I THRAN, 2 .
7. See JETHETH.
JETHETH (hnl; Jetheth, OS2) 1313) one of the
‘dukes’ of Edom, Gen. 3640 (isBsp [AI, lsesp
[DS”.EL]), I Ch. 1 5 1 ( l & € T [Bl, -e0 [AI, -EP [L]).
In view of the readings of 03 it is plausible to read ln!,
which occurs also as a Jerahmeelite and Judahite name (&
JETHER). C p GENEALOGIES i., gj 5. S. A. C.
JETHLAH, RV ITHLAH(YIkn!; c~IAA&, [B],
ie0AA [+I, le.,[L], I E ~ A A N [OS 268781, an unidenti-
fied site in Danite territory (Josh. 1942), associated with
Zorah, Eshtaol, Bethshemesh, Aijalon, and Timnah.
JETHRO (hq!,Jithro, 5 7 7 ; cp Sab. hlnr
Plnl ; either shortened from Jithron [see I THRAN and
cp Ithra in JETHER, 31, or mispointed for Jithru [cp
GASHMU]; loeop [BAL]). Father of Moses’ wife,
ZIPPORAH, Ex. 3 I [but @L does not give the priest’s
name], 418 [see JETHER,I], 18 18 All these passages
belong to E ; the first and third of them add ‘ priest of
Midian.’ This was most probably interpolated from
Ex.2.16 (J) by the redactor ( R ) , who also removed the
discrepant name ‘ Hobab ‘ from that passage, and thus
produced a superficial harmony, against which, however,
Nu. 1029 and Judg. 411 protest (see H OBAR ).
The futile attempts of the ancients to reconcile the discrep-
ancies of the documents require no elaborate consideration.
Josephus (Ant. ii. 12 I) says that Jethro was a surname of Reuel
(ln:, ‘superiority’) ; this seems to have influenced @ A in Ex.
2x6 1 8 Targ. Jon. in Ex. 218 represents REUEL [Y.v.] a s
Zipporah‘s grandfather. In the former case Hobab, in the latter
both Hobab and Jethro are brothers-in-law of Moses. Apart
from other considerations; the only biblical sense of p h is
‘father-in-law,’ though i??doubtless can be used in the looser
sense of ‘wife’s relation ‘.I
There is no anachronism in the description given of
Jethro or Hobab in Exodus as a priest, and by implica-
tion as a sheikh of the Midianites ; such dignitaries
there must have been in ancient Arabia. Though we
cannot adopt Homniel’s statement, that the ideas and
language (and particularly the ritual terms) of the
Priestly Code (P) are largely influenced by instruction
which Moses received from the ‘ K6hEn Midian,’ there
need he no apn’ori objection to the view that Arabian
culture impressed its mark, at more than one period,
on the Israelites. It is certainly remarkable that such
an early record as J E represents the Midianite as
Moses’ instructor in the art of legislation (Ex. 18),and
as having been asked by Moses to be his guide in the
desert, for which a good reward is held out to him in
the Promised Land (Nu. 102g-32).2 As Judg. 116
represents, Hobab (roOop [B]) did actually accompany
Moses ; 3 ‘ Hobab’ has evidently dropped out of the
text and should be restored, though possibly both here
and in the other passages where our text has ‘ Hobab’
we should change ‘Hobab’ into ‘ Jonadab‘ (see H OBAB).
The clan called ‘ b’ne Hobab’ is alsodesignated ‘ Kenite’;
it might, however, with sufficient accuracy have been
called a Midianite,’ the line of demarcation between the
tribes in S. Palestine not being very definite (see
A MALEK , MIDIAN). Not impossibly, however, the
original text called Jethro or Hobab a Misrite (ie.,
virtually a N. Arabian) ; the readings of M T may be
corrupt (see K ENITES ). It should be observed that
1 So probably in Ex. 425, 0’82; ip’l, ‘one newly admitted
into (my) family by the shedding of blood.’
2 Ex. 18, a t all events, is misplaced, Israel having already
arrived at the Mount of God (cp 5 6). But the Mount of God is
Horeb (Sinai) near which Tethro lived (cp 3 I), which makes the
latter‘$ request to return t; his own land,-uu. 6 27, unnecessary ;
cp similarly Nu. 1030. See EXODUS i., 5 5.
3 See Moore and Budde. This mnst have been expressed in
the passage which Nu. 1 0 q - 3 ~represents. The redactor,
to avoid inconsistency with Ex. 1827 has stopped abruptly at
n. 3a.
245s
JEWEL
according to the tradition Jethro was a worshipper of
Yahwk (Ex. 189 12 [E]).
I t is interesting to notice that Sha‘ih occurs as the name of a
WBdy on the E. of the Jordan opposite Jericho (see Baed.PI
162 and NIURIM);and that theldiminntive Shu‘aib is the nam;
given by Mohammed to Jethro. Hut the name Shu‘aih may
after all be distinct from Hohab, and in any case the Moham-
medan legends have no historical value. C p Ew. Hist. 244, n. 2.
JETUR ( 7 W , l e ~ ~ o [BADEL]),
yp a son of Ishmael,
Gen. 25 I j ( l E 7 0 U p [A] ; Jethw), I Ch. 131 ( W O U ~ IL] ;/etur) ;
cp I Ch. 5 19 (rouparl [B] ‘mupaiov [AI, LBTT- [L]; Itwaei) ;
see ISHMAEL, I 4 (7), IT&*.
JEUEL (kJ&lUc),b. Zerah, a post-exilic (Judahite)
inhabitant of Jerusalem : I Ch. 96 ( c n e l ~ )[B],
, I~HA
[ALI).
Jeuel is also the Kt. in I Ch. 935 (AV J EHIEL , RV JEIEL),
I Ch. 1144 (AV J EHIEL RV JEIEL), 2 Ch. 26 I I (EV JEIEL)).
z Ch. 29 13 (AV JEIEL), )Ezra8 13 (AV JEIEL). See JEIEL.
JEUSH (tthj, 5 5 3 ; [Kr. always; so also Kt.
except Gen. 36 5 14 I Ch. 7 T O fi9J‘ [God] helps’? cp Ar. god
yu&Zh, which is transliterated rsyou0os in an inscription
from Memphis; see reff. in Buhl, Gesch. d. Edonz. 49, n. I
who opposes the view ; in Gen. L ~ O U [ADE]
S -uh [Ll ; in Ch. rvou;
1U).
I . An Edomite clan son of Esau by his Horite wife Oholi-
bamah Gen. 36 j 14 18:See ANAH BASHEMATH, EDOM 4 3
(Gen. $65, LFV@BOVS[E], v. 14 LCUS [Al,’v. 18 LWUA [AI, reouvh’[Dl,
I Ch 135 LBOUA [BA]).
2. h. Bilhan in agenealogy ofBENJAMIN(y.U. $5 3 and9 ii. a),
I Ch. 7 10(LLMUS [B] LEWS [A]).
3. b. Eshekin a kenealogyof B ENJ AMIN ( y . ~ . §, 9, ii. j3), 1Ch.
839 ( K a L yy
[ ~ ysup.ras. B?], &as [A]; RV, AV JEHUSH);
probably t e same as (2).
4. h. Shimei, a division of Gershonite Lerites I Ch. 23 1 0 6
(mas [BL; once in A]); cp ( I ) above and see G ~ N E A L O L Ii.,E S
fi
n I, r.,i
L.1.
5. h. Xehoboam, z Ch. 1119 ( r a d [Bl, om. A, L ~ O U S[L]).
JEUZ (VU’,see U z ; ihwc P I , isoyc [AI, I W A C
[L]), a name in a genealogy of Benjamin (U.V., 5 g, ii.
8); I Ch. 810f. See YQK 11105, 3.
JEW (’llV, yehzidi; Aram. ’f.I;1/*, yehzidai; Ass.
Ya-’u-da-ai, ’Iodaios, Judaus), i.e., a man of YehfidBh--i.e.,
JUDAH, [y.v.l. JEHWDI [y.~.]and the fem. J UDITH (n’??W-
yzhGdith) are used as proper names ; but the form Jehudijah
(??W, I Ch. 4 1st) cannot be relied upon (see JEHUDIJAH).
Theadj.’Iou8ai’& ‘Jewish ’occursinzMacc.811 etc Tit.114.
theadv. ’Iou8aEO;in Gal. 2’14; theverb ’Iou8a&v(in’Esth. 81;’
o*in-nn, ‘became Jews’), Gal. 2 14 : the substantive ’Iau8ai’uw6s
(‘religion of the Jews,’ ‘Jews’ religion ’) in 2 Macc. 2 P I 8 T 14 38
Gal. 113f:
I . A subject of the kingdom of Judah, 2 K. 16 6 25 25 jer. 32 1 2
3819 4012 413439(‘Jewishmen’=menof Judah); 4415228.30.
The date of the passages does not come
1. Use in OT. into consideration for the Assyrian phrase
Ya’&zzi Udud&‘ (‘ Ahaz the Judahite ’).
in Tiglath-pileser’s inscription shows that q>n*,was already
current in the sense of ‘man of the land of Judah. Jer. 349 i s
not included ; qifi, has grown out of i i y (see Giesebr. ad roc.).
2. A Hebrew of the Babylonian or Persian province of Judah
or of the Maccabrean state, Z e c h . 8 ~ 3Neh.12 411: [333f:i
4 12 [6] I Macc. 820 23 etc.
3. A memher of the Jewish race, broadly taken, Ezra4 12 23.
5568etc., Esth.Z534651385etc., Dan.38.
The word is used in the NT, chiefly in the plur., to,
denote-
I . Jews as distinct from Gentiles or proselytes, or Samaritans,
Mk.73 Jn.2613 4922 61 64 72.194042 ActsBro 2139 2424
(Drusilla, a Jewess ’). Similarly of Jewish
2. Use in NT. Christians(Actsl61 ‘a Jewesswho believed’),
Gal.213 cp Jn.831.
2. Of ‘Israelites indeed’-Tews worthv of the name. Rom.
2 28J Rev. 2 9 3 9.
3. Of Jews as antagonistic to Jesus or to the Gospel, Mt.
2815 Rom.21; 2C0r.lln4 1Thess.214and especially J0.64152
84;-57 9 18 10 19 11~9 31 33 36 12 9 11. Cp Zahn, EizL 2 554.
Tewess’ occurs twice. Acts161 2424.
JEWEL, the rendering of several Hebrew words (see
below). See generally O RNAMENTS , P RECIOUS STONES.
( I ) 0’!9p +dr?izim; AV ‘chains [of gold]’ ; RV ‘strings [of
jewels]’; (2) >!?, +ridor fi$, +e&Eh; (3) Dt$a, t&.?rn (Cant.
1IO ; AV ‘rows [of jewels],’ RV ‘plaits [of hair] ’). On all
three see NECKLACE, I and 5.
For (4) DiI, ne”zern,and (5) $.le,
‘EgtZ, see R ING , $ xf:
.iD, sicdlah. See P ECULIAR TREASURE.
(6) 3>,:
(7) h?,kZi (Is. 61 I O ; cp Nu. 31 50 XI7 ’3, ‘jewels of gold,’
2156
 JEWRY
2Ch. 32 27 3, AV ‘pleasant jewels’ RV ‘goodly vessels’).
See ORNAMENTS (I).
JEWRY (lW),Dan. 513 AV, RV J UDAH rq.v.1.
JEWS’ LANGUAGE ( n ’ l y ) ,2 K. 1826, etc. . See
H EBREW LANGUAGE, § 2.
Jer. 40s.
JEZANIAH ($VJ]’), See JAAZANIAH,
I.
JEZEBEL (\?]*cl:; lezaBsA [BAL]. The two
explanations in Ges. Thes. are ‘non-habitatio ’ i.e., ‘chaste’;
and ‘island of habitation’-perhaps a titld of Tyre. But
(against I) a negative particle 3~ is unprovable [see ICHA-
BOD, note, and cp NAMES, $ 451 and (against 2 ) 511 in
a personal name will naturally bea; its well-attested sense of
‘exaltation.’ The first element -N should be explained as ’1
ICHABOD, JEZER, ITHAMAR. Kcnig‘s explanation, ‘ exalted Isle
[Ex). T., 10190 (Jan. ’gg)], so far as ‘isle’ goes, is surely
wrong. So, too, is DHM’s theory that $ 2 1 , ~is an intentional
alteration of the Phcen. $~r&ys[Baal exalts, or is a husband?]
so that it should rneafi ‘un-exalted,’ An artificial etymology,
‘what filth,’ is implied in MT of 2K.937 [$>.r=pil; see
below.)
Daughter of Ethbaal of Tyre (see AHAB), wife of
Ahab ( I K.1631 1841319 191J 2 1 5 s z K.
9 7 8 ) . ATHALIAH ( p . ~ . ) , queen of Judah, was her
daughter. Nothing more clearly shows Ahab’s
thoroughly political instinct than his marriage with this
Tyrian princess. It is not so clear, however, whether
he foresaw the religious consequences of the step.
Solomon had married foreign women, and erected special
sanctuaries for them ; but the religious influence of no one
of these was supreme. Ahab was perhaps a monogamist,
like Jeroboam. At any rate, Jezebel had too proud a
nature to be content to worship her own god with a few
Tyrian sojourners ; the Tyriau Bad-worship must have
equal rights with the worship of Yahwb. According to
the Elijah-narratives Jezebel destroyed all the prophets
of Yahw& except ELIJAH [q.u.], and even that brave
prophet had to seek refuge from her in Horeb. She is
made responsible for the judicial murder of NABOTH
[q. v.], and Elijah‘s legendary biographer connects her
dreadful end with a curse pronounced on her by Elijah
on the occasion of Naboths death ( I K. 2123). T h e
dramatic tale of Jehu’s entrance into Jezreel need not
be repeated (see JRHW).
It is worth while, however, to relieve the Denteronomic com-
piler of Kings from the tastelessly savage words of M T of 2 K.
9 37. The trne reading can probably be recovered from @L (cp
Klo.’s note), ‘And the carcass of Jezebel shall be like tp carcass
of Naboth, and there shall be none to say, Woe is me.
I n Rev. 220 there seems to be implied a misinterpreta-
tion of words of Jehu in 2 K. 922. The name Jezebel’ is
given to a false prophetess,l who had influence in the
church of Thyatira, and is accused of seducing Christians
to commit fornication, and to eat things offered to
idols. ‘ Fornication ’ is probably meant literally.
Whether a party of false teachers is here personified, or
whether ( a s Bousset and Schiirer suppose) an individual
is meant, is disputed. At any rate, the adherents of
Jezebel and the NICOLAITANS ( p.v. ) represent the same
antinomian tendency (cp z Pet. 21 18).
JEZELUS (~GZHAOY [BA]). I. 1 Esd. 832=
Ezra85 JAHAZIEI. 5.
2. I hsd. 8 36=E;ra 8 9, JEHIEL, 8.
JEZER (TY!,; isccep [I,]), in genealogy of
NAPHTALI (Gen. 46 24 [PI, cuuaap [ADL], Nu. 2 6 A 9 [PI Lfusp
y p uaap [AI), gentilic Jizerite
[BF], mupc [A], I Ch. 7 13 ~ u m ~ [B],
(Nu. 2649, ‘?95, 6 c e u p [A], b reuep[e]c [BF], -uq.[Ll); Cp
I Z R I (yy)in I Ch. 25 11.
JEZIAH (PT;),RV IZZIAH(n!: [Ba. Ginsb.] ; a
third variant is: ; I ? [Ginsb.], <.e., Jeza-iah, see NAMES, 8 32 ;
casta9 [L]), b. Parosh, in the list of those with foreign wives (see
E z R A ~$.send);
, EzralO~5(a~[f]ca[BA], a h a [NI)=rEsd.926
1 AB Vet. Lat etc read yvvai~6uou-i.e they make
her the wife oft<<Aniel of the Church (so Lachm.;’Zahn [EinZ.
2 6 4 ) ; NCP Copt., Vg. r i v yuvaka(so Tisch., Treg., WH).
79 2457
JEZREEL
[AV] EDDIAS,[RVI IEDDIAS, [RVmg.] IZZIAHor IEZIAS
(c&cas [BI, LE&%. [AI).
JEZIEL (\K’!:, Kt. $&V), some MSS read
$ N Y and
~ $NV ; perhaps corruption of JahZzi-el, 5 N v n 9 , ‘God
sees,’ see NAMES, $ 31, but also, there, n. z), b. Azmaveth, one
ofDavid’swarriors,I Ch. 123(~~yh[BNl,a~~yA[Al,~~. [Ll,JazirZ,
\i~* [but in a differenttext]). See DAVID, $ I T (a, iii.).
JEZLIAH, RVIZLIAH(n@’>ll;ZAPEIA P I , szAia
[A], lszshia [L]), b. Elpaal, in a genealogy of
BENJAMIN (q.v., § g, ii. p ) ; I Ch. 8 IS?.
JEZOAR (l?y! Kt., lnb? Kr.), I Ch: 47 AV, R V
IZHAR
(4.v. [ii.]).
JEZRAHIAH (;rl?lT’,, § 35, ‘ Yahwerises’), a Levite
musician priest in the procession at the dedication of the
wall (see E ZRA ii., § 13g),Neh. 1 2 4 2 (om. BK“A,
lszplac [KC.“ mg. L]). The identical Hebrew name
appears elsewhere as I ZRAHIAH .
JEZREEL (hMl!; ‘God.sows’ l s ~ p a s h [AL], also
B in Hos. 14f: X I [2 21 2 22 [24], -a+ [L generally in Ki.1-
Ls<apyha [Jos.] ’ cupayh [B nearly always; AL in I S. 29 TI 2 Sl
2944 and A in’x K. 20 [21] 23 2 K. 9 IO]. Other forms are @ E ’ s
cu ad I K. 412, e& .EA Judg. 633, and @A’S m(a@eh I K. 1846
2%. 8.
9 36, & a d I 29 I, 2 Ch. 22 6, and @a’s beupash in Hos.
111 [22]. Gentilic form JEZREELITE ( ’ > N y l V ; d cupayA[a]~.rqs
[BA!, d ~s{payh.[Ll), I K. 21 I 6 etc., in 2 K. 921 d rcpayh. [A],
925 o cu<payA. [AI).
I. Originally a clan-name, analogous to Israel,
Jerahmeel, Ishmael; then the name of a city and
1. clan and district ; lastly, that of the long, deep
vale dominated by the city of Jezreel.
town* Of the existence of the Jezreelite clan
in N. Palestine, we have no direct biblical evidence;
but it may be surmised that the fact recorded bom-
bastically in king Merneptah’s famous inscription (see
I SRAEL , 5 7, end) was the extinction of a tribe called, not
Israel, but Jezreel. Renouf‘s conjecture that the stele
actually spoke of ‘ Jezreel’ is not indeed confirmed
(see Spiegelberg’s report, and EXODUS^. , 5 z ) ; but it
remains possible that the spelling Isir‘il ( =Israel) is due
to a mistake of the ear such as was, at any rate, often
made by Greek scribes. The place is assigned in
Josh. 1 9 1 6 (raS?))I[B], iwpaeX [L]) to Issachar. W e
know from Judg. 5 that this tribe suffered greatly
from Canaanitish preponderance (cp ISSACHAR) ; and
since Taanach, Ibleam, and Megiddo on the one side
and Beth-shean on the other are represented in Jndg.
1 2 7 as Canaanitish enclaves, we may, for geographical
reasons, assume that Jezreel, though coveted by Issachar,
also long remained Canaanitish.
Josh. 17 16 probably confirms this view ; we read there of the
Canaanites of Beth-shean and of t+ p y C?wze&) of Jezreel as
having formidable ‘chariotsof iron.
It may be that one of the fruits of the victory com-
memorated in Judg. 5 was the conquest of Jezreel
(Budde, RL-Sam. 47). In the time of Saul, at any
rate, Jezreel was Israelitish ; not far from it ( ‘ by the
fountain [of HilrC~d]which is by Jezreel’) was the camp
of the Israelites before the great battle in which Saul
was said to be slain ( I S. 291 ; see, however, S AUL , 5 4).
The district of Jezreel is included in the kingdom of
Ishbaal ( z S . 2 8 f . , but the text is doubtful).2 It was
1 For slightly different views of the development see We. CH
254, n. 2 ; Bu. Ri.-Sa. 46, n. I. The passages quoted by We. to
prove that Jezreel was originally the nameof a district,notofa
city are T S. 29 I 11 2 5 . 2 9 44. The inference is notjustifiable :
the ;Ian of Jezreelites not merely occupied a district; they must
have had one chief settlement called after their own name. That
‘Jezreel’ was the name of a city in David’s time is certain (Bu.
rightlyquotes I S. 25 43). Both We. and Bu. however, seem to
misunderstand IS.29 ~ r bwhere, , comparing k,we should read
5 ~ ! i ! $ ani.\ h y ’kl,‘and the Philistines went up to fight
against Israel ’-the equivalent of the statement in 91 I (cp. the
duplicate statements in 284, 29 I ; see GILBOA).In 3 S. 2 g
S ~ y i 1 - 5 ~(‘and
1 over Jezreel ’) may be a corruption of -$N
yy>> or ’uyla (‘and over the Girzites,’ or ‘Girshites’): see
GIRZITES.In z S. 4 4 ‘Jezreel ’ evidently means the district of
Jeueel.
2 See preceding note.
2458
 JEZREEL
afterwards the residence of Ahab and, after him, of
Joram ; hard by was the vineyard of NABOTH ( I K. 21 I ),
where Joram, Ahab's second son, was slain by Jehu
(2 K.9 2 1 8 ) . It was at the palace of ,Jezreel that the
usurper had his famous encounter with Jezebel ( z K. 9
30-37). According to Hosea, vengeance would be taken
on Jehu for the bloodshed of Jezreel, and where should
this be but in the vale of Jezreel ? At the same time-
so Hosea interpreted to himself the divine message of
which he was conscious-the guilt-laden kingdom of N.
Israel would come to an end (Hos.14f: ; v. I I [Zz] is
much later).
The next time the place is mentioned, it is called
Esdraelon (Judith 3 9 4 6 7 3 ) , and Esdraelonis the name
given by Eusebius ( O S 267 52 ; Jer. [133 141 omits the
name) to ' a very notable village in the great plain
between Scythopolis and Legio '; the Jerusalem Itinerary
locates it I O R. m. from Scythopolis. In the times of
the Crusaders the Franks knew it as Geriu (Gerinum ;
William of Tyre, 2226); in 1173 the Jewish traveller,
Benjamin of Tudela, calls it Zarein. From Saladin's
time onwards Z e r h has no doubt been the Arabic name
of the village which has succeeded the ancient Jezreel
(Zer'in for Jezreel, as Betin for Bethel). Strange
indeed it is, that a place once so important should have
such a miserable modern representative I The ' tower '
referred to in z K. 917, which was a part of the citadel,
has long since disappeared. The ruined tower of the
squalid modern village is not ancient; but the view
from it compensates one to some extent for disappoint-
ments.
'Westward, the Carmel ridge may he followed until it
terminates a t the sea; in the distant east the Jordan line is
made out easily; Gilboa seems near enough for you so to strike
it with a stone that the missile would rebound and reach Little
Hermon before it fell. The great mountain walls of Eashan and
of Eglon [.Ajlon] rise in the far east, and seem to forbid any
search beyond them' (Harper, In Scriplure Lands, 285).
In fact, Jezreel itself stands high ; you would hardly
guess how high, as you approach it riding across the
gently swelling plain of Esdraelon. Looking east-
ward, however, you see that there is a steep, rocky
descent on that side into the valley of Gilboa, with the
remains of wine-presses cut in the rock, which, with a
white marble sarcophagus (found by Gukrin), are the
only relics of any antiquity at Zefin.
We noticed just now (in Josh. 17 16) the phrase ' the
%ne$ (pap) of Jezreel' ; the meaning of this has now to
be stated clearly. An pny ('?me@) is a
2' "le'
wide avenue running up into amountainous
country ' ; the 'InzeK of Jezreel ought therefore to mean,
not the great central plain (ap+6ih'M) W . of Jezreel,
the gate of which is Megiddo, but the broad deep vale
E. of' Jezreel (between the so-called Little Hermon and
Gilboa), descending to the Jordan, the gate of which
is Jezreel. It should be borne in mind that the later
phrase 'the plain of Esdraelon' (Judith 1 8 ) is less
correct than the early phrases ' the plain of MEGIDDO '
!q.v.] and 'the Great Plain.'l W e d o not mean that the
great plain' could not he designated the plain of Jezreel,
for Jezreel looks twoways-alongthe'imek or 'vale' tothe
Jordan, and across the bik'Zh or 'plain' to Mount Carmel.
But if one place has more claim than another to give its
name to the great central plain, it is Megiddo-at least if
MEGIDDO [q.v.] is Lejyan or Legio, which looks as if it
were set there for the very purpose of guarding the chief
entrance of the plain from Sharon. The 'Vale of
Jezreel,' then, is the fit name for that broad deep vale
with its gate at Jezreel, which ' three miles after it has
opened round Gilboa to the south ... suddenly
drops over a bank some 300 feet high into the valley of
the Jordan' (GASm. HG357). Near the edge of this
bank rises the mound which covers the ruins of Beth-
shean, in a position not surpassed for strength by any
in Palestine. See BETH-SHEAN. T. K. C.
2. A place in the hill-country of Judah (Josh.1556 Lapi+.
1 See GASm. HG 384 J ;Furrer in Schenkel, BL 3302.
2459
JOAB
[E], ia&,aeh [AI, LE$ \p]a+ [Ll) not far from Carmel whence
came Ahinoam, David s wife (IS 2543 Lupaqh [Bl r t i a d [A]
iecpayh [L]), and Jether or Ithia, his brother-&-law (2s:
1725). Perhaps this name lies hidden in the miswritten JERUEL
in z Ch. 20. See ABIGAIL, 2 ; A HINOAM ;AMASA,f ; JETHEX, 3 ;
also S AUL, B 4.
JEZREEL (hql]!). I. Mentioned in genealogical
connection with Etam and SHELAH (I, q.v.) in I Ch. 4 3 t (a<pa+
WAX], Le<pi+ [Ab?], - p q A [Ll). Perhaps the eponym of
JEZREEL, 2.
2. Name of a son of Hosea (Hos. 1 4 ' rscpash [BAQ]) in allu-
sion to the 'bloodshed of Jezreel.' Segahove, JEZREELi., 8 I .
JEZRIELUS(I~Z~IHA
[A]),
O C I. Esd. 927 RV=Ezra
1026, J EHIEL , 11.
JIBSAM, RV IBSAM (@'a!,
§ 54, ' h e is fra-
grant ' ?), son of Tola (see I SSACHAR , 7),I Ch. 7 2
(BACAN P I t isB. [AI, IABCAM [LI).
JIDLAPH (qbl!, 54),son of N AHOR [T.V.] (Gen.
22.2 U1; I E A A A ~[AI, isAAa@ [LIP om. D.). See
P EDAIAH , I.
JIMNA, JIMNAH, JIMNITES. See I MNAH .
JIPHTAH, RV IPHTAH (nnp:, see J IPHTAH - EL ),
an unidentified site in the lowland of Judah, mentioned in
the same group with Mareshah: Josh. 1 5 4 3 ( I @ ~ A
[AL], om. B?). See JOTBAH.
JIPHTAH EL, RV IPHTAH EL, V ALLEY OF
~ -
(h-nny '3, CP JEPHTHAH; r A l @ A H A [B], r A l
Is@aHA [AL]), a place on the N. border of Zebulun
towards Asher, Josh. 1 9 1 4 2 7 t (rbi K A I $ e A l H h P I ,
ral eceAHh [L]). It has been identified with the
Jotapata so well known from Josephus's account of
the siege during the first Roman war (BJ iii. 7). the
name of which in the Mishna is nmv, YodEphath (Neub.
Gkogy. 203; cp 193, n. 6). The names Iphtah and
YodZphath (for another form see J OTBAH ) may seem
dissimilar ; but the old Hebrew names passed through
strange vicissitudes ; the transformation of Iphtah is
not impossible. Jotapata is no doubt the moderii
Jefit, a little to the NE. of KBnet el-Jelil, and due
N. of Sepphoris. To the NW. of Jefgt lies Kdbzil;
see CABUL, col. 615. According to Robinson (BK
3107), the 'valley' of Iphtah-el is the great Widy
'Abillin, which takes its rise SW. of JefSt ; but this is
not plausible. Should we not read, for >?, n p y ? The
letters ny2 may have fallen out owing to the proximity
of ng. The ' round and lofty ' Tell Jefst, which ' is
only connected with the hills to the N. of it by a low
saddle,' would form an excellent landmark. For a
less probable identification (Conder's), see D ABBASHETH .
T. K. C.
JOAB (X$, ' YahwB is father ' ? cp J OAH , ABIJAH,
ELIAB. A possible derivation from 2 ~ must
9 not be disregarded:
cp N6. ZDMG, '85, p. 477 ; LOUP [,BAL]).
I.b. Z ERUIAH [q.7~], David's nephew and general
(I S. 266 2 S. '213 etc., I K. 1 7 etc., I Ch. 2 1 6 ; L w P ~ P
[A, Ps. 60 title], LWCZ [.4 in I Ch. 11261). We do not
know whether he, like his elder brother Abishai,'
followed the fortunes of David from the first. V('e
first hear of Joab in connection with the encounter
between the men of Abner and Ishbaal and the
men of David at Gibeon ( 2 S. 2x28 ; see HELKATH-
HAZZURIM), and the vengeance which he took'
upon A BNER [ p . ~ . ] for the violent death of his
brother Asahel ( 2 S. 212-26) had consequences which
were helpful to the claims of David, though David him-
self (according to 2 S. 331.39 ; cp I K. 2 3 1 8 ) did not
recognise this. It was the exploit of this warrior
at the capture of Zion which, according to I Ch.
114-9, was rewarded by his promotion to be a head
1 So I Ch. 2 16 ; in 2 S. 2 18, however, he stands first.
2 How long a time elapsed between the encounter a t Gibeon
and the events in chap. 3 is unknown. v. 28 (cp p a ) of the
former chapter presupposes a cessation of the war ; but ch. 3 I
(cp !a), represents the strife between the rival houses as
continuing.
2460
 JOAB
(ddi) and commander (i&).I In z S. 2023 (cp 816)
we find him placed ‘over all the host of Israel.’ But
through what events one who began as the mere leader
of a band (cp 2 S. 322) rose to the generalship ( 2 0 2 3 ;
cp 8 16) we are not told in 2 S., and, unlike Abishai,
Joab is not referred to in the scanty notices of the war
with the Philistines.
Passing over the wars of David and his complicity in
the death of Uriah (zS. ll),we meet with him next in
the account of Absalom’s exile and rebellion. Here he
is represented as standing on terms of close intimacy
with David and as prevailing on the king to recall his
banished son (14I S ) , although it was not until Absalom
had taken severe measures that he was able to procure
him an interview with the king.2 In the fight against
Absalom ( z S. 18) a thud of the people is put under his
charge, although from v. 16 he would seem, to have been
at the head of the army. That he was directly re-
sponsible for the death of Absalom (vv. 10-14) is
rendered doubtful (I) by the conflicting statement in 21.
15 which ascribes the deed to his armour-bearers, ( 2 ) by
his retaining influence over the king, and ( 3 ) by the
remarkable fact that no allusion is made to the deed in
David‘s final charge ( I K. 2 1 3 ) or elsewhere. But,
however this may be, the king felt himself obliged to
promise AMASA[p.v.]the post which Joab had held.
On the occasion of Sheba’s revolt (which the MT,
according to its present arrangement, places immedi-
ately after Absalom’s rebellion), the command, in the
absence of Amasa, was given to Abishai, the king fully
realising that Joab would naturally follow his brother
( 2 S. 20). ‘ The fact that he then takes the leadership
into his own hands is so much a matter of course that
it does not need to be mentioned.’3 Joab finds an
opportunity of ridding himself of his rival Amasa,
and successfully quells the revolt.
In David’s frontier wars Joab was the foremost
figure ; it is true he is unmentioned in the panegyric,
ch. 81-14, but the account in ch. 10 probably gives a
more historical view. The later tradition may have
deepened the horrors of his campaign in E d ~ mbut ,~
that his policy was thorough is shown by the deadly
hatred which arose between Edom and Israel. An
equally successful campaign was carried out against
Ammon and the allied AramEans (ch. 1 0 ; see D AVID ,
§ 8 a), and in the following year Rabbath-Ammon, the
capital, with all its spoil, fell into his hands (ch. 111
1226-31).
In ch. 24 (a later but pre-deuteronomic narrative; cp
SAMUEL ii., $ 6 ) Joab is ordered to number the people. The un-
willingness he exhibits is characteristically treated in I Ch.
216, ‘ Levi and Benjamin counted he not among them, for the
king’s word was abominable (so EV) to Joah.’5
Finally, at the close of David’s life, Joab sided with
Adonijah in.his attempt to gain the crown ( I K. 1 7 5 ) ,
and upon the accession of Solomon was slain by Benaiah
at the altar-horns and buried in his house ‘ in the wilder-
ness’ (I K. 2 2 9 3 ) . See ZERUIAH,ATROTH-BETH-
JOAB.
A recollection of his name may he preserved in 2 and 3
helow. otherwise he passes out of history. In the list given
by ~ A atLthe close of I K. 2 a certain a p m (@B, but c h a p
L,
- cp also chap. 46) son of Joab is cited as captain of the army,
1 The Chronicler’s account of the way in which he rose to
distinction ignores the important part which he played in coun-
.
teracting Abner the Abner episode is in fact omitted in Chron.
2 It is difficul;to place much confidkce i i the notice (14286)
that two years elapsed before Absalom saw David’s face. vv.
15-27 are an acknowledged gloss ; but since v. 286 is an almost
identical repetition of v. 246, it is probable that v. 28 is also a
gloss, and v. 29 follows immediately upon v. 24.
3 So at any rate Bu. (SBOT)in opposition to the almost
genera! opinion tha; for ‘ Abishai ’ tu. 6) we should read Joab
(so Pesh.). If as has been suggested elsewhere (see AJSL 16 168
goo]) the cdnnection between the revolts of Sheba and Absa-
lorn aid the story of Amasa’s murder are both due to a redactor,
it is probable that Pesh. is right and that the alteration to
Abishai occurred after the two nariatives had been joined, and
was indeed rendered absolutely necessary by 19 13[14l.
4 ’In I Ch: 18 12 the campaign is ascribed to Abishai.
5 I Ch. 2724 says that Joab began tonumber, but finished not.’
2461
JOANAN
but unfortunately there is no further evidence to support this
statement.1
In reviewing Joab’s history it is difficult to gain a
clear insight into his relation to David. Powerful and
indispensable & he was, he was replaced by Amasa at
the close of Absalom’s rebellion, which throws doubt upon
the suggestion that the increase in Joabs influence over
David dates from the episode of Uriah. If David was
afraid of Joab because of his acquaintance with the true
facts of Uriah’s death, he could certainly have found
means to get rid of him. Joab’s treachery to Uriah is
not too clearly stated in z S. 111 5 3 , and ~ although
Joab may have justly incurred blame, it is difficult to
see why his brother Abishai (to whom David owed so
much, cp, e.g., 2 S. 2117) should be included in the
invectives against the ‘sons of Zeruiah’ (cp 2 S. 339
l610J [see Klo.], 1 9 20 [21]~T).
There is a consensus of critics that the injunction
ascribed to David in I K. 2 5 J was written after his
time to excuse the killing of Joab and Shimei (see
D AVID , 5 12). Here, as in the section 228-34, Joab’s
fate is represented as a just retribution for the murder
of Abner, ‘ captain of the host of Israel,’ and of Amasa,
a captain of the host of Judah.’ The special stress laid
upon the innocence of David,3 as well as the reiterated
condemnation of the ‘sons of Zeruiah,’ reveals the
tendency to idealise the character of the great national
hero which characterised later ages (cp DAVID, 9).
2. The father of Ge-harashim (I Ch. 414 ; cwpaS [BL]). See
HARASHIM. Meyer (Entst. 147) suggests a connection with
ATROTH-BETH-JOAB rq.v.1. The resemblance between Seraiah
(th? ,name of his father) and Zeruiah (above) is superficially
striking, but apparently accidental.
3. One of the two familiesof PAHATH-MOAB [g.v.] in the great
post-exilic list [EZRA ii., 5s g, 8 GI, Ezra26=Neh. 7 1 1 (iwSaS [B
in both]) = I Esd. 5 11 (popoap [Bl, AV om.) ; cp Ezra 8 g =
I Esd. 835. S. A. C.
JOAB, HOUSE OF. See ATROTH-BETH-JOAB.
JOACHIM (IWAKBIM [BAQ]), Bar. 13, and Joacim
I Esd. 1 3 7 43 ; RV Joakim. See JEHOIAKIM, JEHOI-
AcHIN. Joakim is also the name of a son of Zerub-
babel ( I Esd. 5 5 ) . of the high priest in Judith’s time
(Jud. 46), and of the husband of Susanna (Sus. 11).
J O A D A N U S ( I ~ A A N O C [ BIWAA&NOC[A]),
], ~Esd.
9Ig=Ezra1018, GEDALIAH, 5.
JOAH (ti@, ‘Yahwe is brother,’ cp $?!ng, and see
NAMES, § 44 ; I W A X PKALOQI).
I . b. Asaph, Hezekiah‘s vizier at the time of Sennacherib‘s
invasion (2 K. 18 18, coua+a7 [BA, omitting ‘b. Asaph’], vu. 26
37, C W ~ P[B; in v. 26 L w u 4 a 7 AI; Is. 363, LOX [N*I, m a p [Fl,
v. II m a s [B] om. N*T, v. 22 iwaS [Fl).
2. h. JoahA Josiah’s vizier during the religious reforms ( z Ch.
348, m v a x [Bl: w a s [AL] om. Pesh iwanjv [Jos. Ant. x. 4 11).
3. b. Zimmah, a Gershonite L e d e (I Ch. 1521[6] : w a p [B],
&ma< [L]. zCh. 2912: om. B., m a [AI, d a a 0 [Ll). See
GENEALO~IES i., 5 7 (iii., 6), and note that ASAPH (p.m. 3, cp
I above) is also a Gershonite name.
4. b. OBED-EDOM [q.~.](I Ch. 26 4 : ~ o a @[B], -6 [Ll, maa [AI).
JOAHAZ (tQ@, cp r?e\il! ; I W A X A Z [BAL]).
1. The father of JoAH [z] ( z Ch. 348 ; ‘wax [BJ,om. Pesh.).
2. (=ii$n!, JEHOAHAZ), king of Israel (2 K. 14 I ; iwaxas
[Bl, axas“ [AI$
3. ( = I ~ $ J ; , JEHOAHAZ),king of Judah ( z Ch. 36 2 4).
JOANAN. I. (IUANAN [A], , I O N & [B], om. L).
I Esd. 9r=Ezra 106, RV ‘Jonas. See JOHANAN, 2.
2. (Lwavav [Ti. WH]), Lk. 3 27 RV. See GENEALOGIES ii., 5 3f:
1 Joab according to Thenius, is a mistake for Shaphat (cp
aar$[a~lBA T K. 46).
a David orders Uriah to he placed in the thick of the battle
and then left. But in vv. 17f: Uriah appears to join with other
heroes in an onslaught against the city (no names of enemy or
city are given in 112 8 ) and falls with them. Nor is the intro-
duction of Abimelech in v. 21 a case in point for how was a city
to be taken w i t p t going up to the wall ( a s h 2 S. 17 I$?
3 I K. 2 32 : my father David knew it not ’ ;cp the awkward
expression 2 S. 3 zs ’l$p 117 pDO?.
2462
 JOANES
JOANES ( I ~ A N O Y [WHI: -NNOY [Ti.]), Jn. 1 4 2
RVmg.,AV ' Jona,' RV John. See B AR - J ONA , J OHN .
JOANNA, or rather, as in RV JOANAN( I O ~ N A N
[Ti: WH]), eighteenth in the ascending genealogical
series which begins with Joseph, Mary's husband, in Lk.
323-38. See G ENEALOGIES ii., 5 3f:
S O A N N A ( I ~ A N N A [ Ti~w. ]a,~ a [ W H ] ; cp +ram.
AK3nl9, 93n19,Ber. R. 64,b. Sot. 22 a, from an original
Heb. ]?ni' or Ylzni,, Dalm. Jud.-PuZ. Arum. 142,
n. 9,cp B AR - J ONA ), wife of C HUZA (Lk. 83). She was
one of the pious women who ministered to Jesus and
the twelve apostles ( U ~ ~ T O [Ti.
~S WH]) of their substance,
and of those who went to the sepulchre to embalm his
body (Lk. 83 241of).
JOANNAN ( I W A N N H C [AAKV]), I Macc. 22, RV
John.' See M ACCABEES i., §§ I , 3.
JOARIB ( I Macc. 2 I). See JEHOIARIB.
SOASII (d@V,and, in an abbreviated form, E$\$.
Both forms occur in I and 2 but in 3 8 the latter is consistentlv
found ; cp yasi-ilu, an Aralkan trihal-name, temp. Sennacherib
and ASur-bsni-pal [Hommel, Ex$. T.856zfII; Sab. D&N, Sin.
WIN>N, etc.1 Possibly 'Yah gives,' B 26, see Gray, HPiV
154J, hut more probably it is not a verbal form ; Lwac [BNAL] ;
Lap [A 2 K. 14 81).
I. b. Ahaziah, king of Judah ( B .c. 835-7963, who was
hidden during the usurpation of Athaliah and crowned
a t the age of seven ( 2 K . 12 z Ch. 24).
On the two parallel accounts of the revolution which
placed Joash on the throne, (a) z K. 11 1-12r d - z o , (6) i6. m.
13-18a, see Stade, Z A TW 5 280 8 ('85) who is followed by
Benzinger and Kittel. The former, w k c h emphasizes the
religious motives of the revolution, may have come from a work
o n the history of the temple. The account in n Ch. 2210-23z1
is largely recast ; hut, where this is not the case, can he used as
a ,parallel text to (a).
W e know but little of Joash's long reign. Somehow
the temple had been allowed to get into disrepair, and
Joash made a new arrangement for the due preservation
of the fabric, the priests being made responsible for this.
The temple is evidently regarded as a royal possession.
A statement of more historical interest (turned to his own
account by the Chronicler, 2 Ch. 24236) is concerned
with the inroad of the Syrians under Hazael, who only
departed on receiving a large tribute. No doubt this
inroad stands in close connection with Hazael's successful
wars against Jehu or Jehoahaz. Joash met his death at
the hands of assassins, whichwas possibly an act of private
vengeance for the cruel murder of Zechariah b. Jehoiada,
the priest. (This is suggested by the statement of
2 Ch. 2425, which may be not wholly incorrect.) See
ISRAEL, 5 31; C HRONICLES , 5 8 ; CHRONOLOGY, 5 35.
2. b. Jehoahaz (797-783 B.C. ?), king of Israel ( z K .
131014 z Ch. 25). One of the greatest of the Israelitish
kings. His success over BENHADAD [q.v.] b. Hazael
(which is said to have been foretold by Elisha, z K.
1 3 1 4 3 ) and his victory over Amaziah, followed by his
breaking down of the wall of Jerusalem, are the most
prominent facts of his reign. That Judah was reduced
to vassalage was the result, according to the narrative,
of an andacious challenge of Amaziah b. Joash (I), king
of Judah, which provoked the scornful and only too
prophetic parable of the ' thistle and the cedar' (z K.
1 4 8 3 ) . See A MAZIAH , I.
3. Gather of GIDEONrq.u.1 (Judg. 6-8). See AMAZIAH.
4. A prince (lit. 'the king's son') temp. Ahab (I K. 2226 cp
a Ch. 1825 wava [B]). Either the title 'king's son' was given
to officers of state, or members of the royal house did not disdain
such an office as the governorship of the prison. Possibly ?inn
is a corruption of ixnm, (Che.), see HAMMELECH.
5. A son of SHELAH [q.u.], b. Judah, I Ch. 422 (Lwa8a [B]).
6. One of David's heroes (I Ch. 12 3, iwa [&I, rwpas [AI). See
DAVID, 5 11 a, iii. S. A. C.
JOASH ( ~ $ 9 , 5 80, 'Yahwb aids,' for W , cp Ar.
&itha and Sab. n. pr. nIdX.
This, however, is not
favoured by the Gk. transcription mas [BAL], which
1 See Cook, Aramaic Glossa~y,
S.V. w l ~1, ~ 1 ~ .
2463
JOB
does no2 presuppose the harder y [=t].See JEUSH
[dWjI).
I. b. BECHER [p.U.] in a genealogy Of BENJAMIN (P.V., 8 9,
ii. a), I Ch. 7 8 cp JEUSH, CI. I O, and I Ch. 23 roJ [@I.
2. One of DLvid's overseers (I Ch. 27 28). See DAVID, 8 11.
JOATHAM ( I w A e A M [Ti: WH]), Mt. 19, RV
JOTHAM[q. n.].
JOAZABDUS ( I ~ Z A B A O C [A]), I Esd. 948=Neh.
87, JOSABAD.
JOB (li'),Gen. 4 6 1 3 AV, a corruption of JASHUB
(6.. I 1).
JOB (2.i9e; ~uB, IOB), the hero of the Book of Job
(cp also Ezek. 141420 Jas. 511. on which see below),
confounded in the postscript to @ with
1, Name, J OBAB (4.v. z), king of Edom (Gen. 3633).
Though this confusion is due to a late uncritical miter.
probably a Jewish Haggadist,l we must admit the possi-
bility that there may be a connection betseen the
names. Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar all have points
of contact with name-lists in Genesis, and we should
naturally expect this to he the case with 'Iyyab. It is
true, most critics before Dillmann have explained 'IyyBb
from the Hebrew, as if the original framer of the story
of Job either coined the name or at least modified it so
as to make it symbolic of his hero : the alternatives are
( I ) ' the pions ' =Ar. 'uww66, ' one who turns to God '
(see Koran, 38 1629 44) ; ( 2 ) ' the assailed, or persecuted
--i.e., by God, or by Satan.' Neither is very satis-
factory. The former is not definite enough in meaning,
nor is the root Israelitish ; the latter implies an ex-
ceptional use of the grammatical form (cp ih;=ih).
There is no indication that the writers of Job thought
bf any meaning for the name.
Another problem remains-the true origin of the
name. In Am. Tub. 2376 13 we find Aiab a personal
3. Its ~ r i name ~ ~ in. N. Palestine (Che. Bz$os.,
f897,6, p. 23) ; possibly Aiab='Zyy56.3
In the next article (J OB, BOOK OP, 5 4). the name of
the hero of Job (11,~ from p?) is traced to Ea-bani,
the name of an ancient Babylonian hero, whose creation
out of clay has been compared with the narrative in
Gen.27 (see C REATION , 5 20, n. 4). Ea-bani seems
to have been Confounded with GilgameS, who, according
to the myth, was attacked by some sore disease, and
was supernaturally healed. For other legendary Hebrew
names of Babylonian origin, see CAINITES, 6-8, IO.
On the land of Uz see Uz.
The question whether Job really lived-which is
distinct from the question whether he actually said and
did all that is related of him in our book
3. Job,s :can
character. only be answered in the affirmative
if we are prepared to regard Cain, Enoch,
and Noah as historical personages. The saying of
Resh Lakish, 'Job existed not, and was not created,
but is (only) a parable,'4 shows that great freedom of
speech upon such matters was allowed among Jewish
doctors. There has been some vagueness in the
utterances of modern Christian scholars, who have
not always considered that for a story to have a tradi-
tional basis is not equivalent to its being founded
on fact. The moral value of the story of Job is un-
impaired by the denial of its historicity ; like the story
of Jonah it is a parable, and the only question is
-a parable of what? The ancients were struck by
Job's righteousness (Ezek. 14 1420 Ecclus. 499 [Heb.
text]), or by his patient endurance (Jas. 511). To
Mohammed, too, Job was a model of piety and
1 Bleek, Dillmann, Rudde ascribe it to a Hellenist: but the
arguments of Frankel (MGWJ 21 308f: [172]) deserve attention.
See Uz.
a Cp Lag. Uebers. go.
3 Cp also the later Heb. ?>!eDalm. Arum. WB.
4 The saying was, however,' tampered with. See FrPiikel, i6.
310; and cp 306 alzd SOL 60f: On Resh Lakish see further
Gratz, Hist. ofthaJews (ET), 250oJX
2464
 JOB (BOOK)
patience (Koran, 3840), and the Mohammedans humor-
ously call the camel abu Eyysb, Job's father.' In
Christian Egypt, too, as AmClineau reniarks,l the
story of Job was very popular, but not the speeches.
The one was practical, the other appeared to be specu-
lative. Theodote of Mopsuestia witnesses to the same
preference of the story to the speeches in his time.
For evidence of the further legendary development of
the story of Job in the Jewish and Moslem world see
D. B. Macdonald, AJSL 14137-164 ['98] ; K. Kohler,
' T h e Testament of Job,' Kohut Memorial YoZume
('97h 264-338.
I n Ecclus. 499 @ is certainly wrong in reading [ p l y u for
2 h ; the latter reading is supported both by Syr. and by our
Hebrewtext. Therecovered Heb. text how-
4. References. ever, must be corrupt. Smend thinks Le can
read u - in~the~ MS after >1?u(Das k e h .
Fvament, '97, p. 32). @, however, has du 6pj3py=l'yy+, and
this is what the copyist of our MS may have meant to give ; but
the word we want is ,?:l and in b 53 h h D n should be
\]?pp;i,and the ['Jlll of Cowley and Neubauer should he [?l>]l.
The passage then becomes, ' H e also mentioned Job the upright
whoutteredright words'(see Job427). In Jas. S i r Z a h n ( E i n 2
155) may be right in preferring the reading &re (AB3 13 31 L
Arm.) to ELS~TE (BXNKs. vv.). The verse becomes 'Ye have
heard of the patience of Job and the end (appointid by) th:
Lord. See (here) that the Lord is full of compassion and pitiful.
T. K. C.
JOB, BOOK OF. The book stands third among
the Kithzibim or Hagiographa, according to the Tal-
mudic arrangement, but not always in the same place
relatively to other books ; in the Greek Bible too, there
are variations in the MSS. On these points see Ryle,
Canon of the O T (1892). In the Syriac Bible Job is
placed between the Pentateuch and Joshua, because,
according to the Jews (Baa&bathrci, 15n), it was written
by Moses (cp C ANON, § 45). It may mitigate our
surprise to remember that one of the fathers of modern
criticism, Eichhorn, even claimed for the book a pre-
Mosaic origin. We need not, however, any longer
discuss the possibility of this view, since no scholar
could be found to defend it. The most scientific
arrangement is that which includes Job in the group of
books of Wisdom (Hokmah),of which it is doubtless the
greatest, and the most fraught with suggestion for the
history of the Jewish religion. See WISDOM LITERA-
TURE.
As the book now stands, it consists of five parts.
I. The Prologue, written, like the Epilogue, in prose (chap.
The Colloquies of Job and his friends (chaps. 3-31).
3. The speeches of Elibu (chaps. 32-37).
4. The speeches of Yahwl: out of the storm, with very brief
answers of Job (chaps. 38-426).
5. The Epilogue (42 7-17).
Thus it is plain that the book of Job is deficient in
literary unity. Two literary styles are represented in it
1. Contents -narrative prose and didactic poetry ;
and character. F t h , however, are thoroughly artistic
in character. W e must not read the~ ~ ~ ~~
Prologue a s a history : this would be to do injustice to
a considerable epic poet. Nor must we read the Col-
loquies as mere specimens of Hebrew philosophy in
metre. This would be to miss making the acquaintance
of a powerful lyric poet who was also skilled in the
delineation of varieties of character. Certainly it is not
legitimate to call the book of Job a drama ; a Hebrew
drama, especially in post-exilic times, is inconceivable.
The attitude of the Priestly Writer (P) in the Hexateuch
towards the ancient Hebrew myths and legends suf-
ficiently shows how hopeless a dramatic movement would
have been, even had it been initiated. Nevertheless,
the idea of inclosing a poetical debate between the two
parts of a quasi-poetical tale is dramatic in tendency,
and suggests that in more favourable circumstances
gifted dramatists might have arisen among the Jews.
In order that students may appreciate the art (not less
1 'Version Thebaine du Livre de Job,' PSBA, '87, p. rag.
2465
JOB (BOOK)
than the meaning) of the poem and its different sections,
there is one preliminary service w-hich the textual critic
must render-viz., to submit the text of Job to a careful
revision.
A! that can he done for exegesis from an opposite point of
view has been done by Dillmann, and if Davidson cannot be
mentioned as Dillmann's rival, yet every one of the too few
pages that Davidson has written on Job testifies to familiarity
with the available exegetical material : where either of these
eminent critics has failed it has been simply owing to the
inadequacy of their critical methods. To Bickell Siegfried
Budde, Beer, and Duhm is due the credit of bavin; perceived
that the next step forward in exegesis must be preceded by a
purification of the text. The labours of these scholars and of
others who have worked at the text of Job on the same lines
though less continuously, cannot be disregarded by exegeticai
students, and any article like the present must constantly refer
not only to the Massoretic but also to an emended text.
The present writer is tied t9 no master, and will give
the student the best that he knows. Nor can he abstain
from adding that the emended text to which he will
appeal is one which has partly been produced by con-
siderations of metre. For the most necessary informa-
tion on this subject he would refer to the article
POETICAL L ITERATURE ; it is enough here to endorse
the statement of Duhm, that the usual poetical form in
the Colloquies of Job and his friends is the simplest
metre of Hebrew prosody-viz., the stanza of four
stichi, of three beats each.l There are also, it is true,
passages of tristichs in chaps. 24 and (perhaps) 30 ; but
these are among the later insertions. One of the
clearest reasons for denying these passages to the main
author of the work is the difference in their poetical
form. The statement of Zenner ( Z t .f. Kath. Th. '99,
p. 173) that the book of Job contains much more than
a hundred tristichs implies far too conservative an atti-
tude towards the traditional text.
The object of the Prologue Is to show that disin-
terested love of God is possible, and that in the case of
such an one as Job, or of that quasi-
2. Epilogue. personal being whom Job symholises,
and
the terrible load of suffering has this
one intelligible purpose-viz., that the peFfection of
his unbought piety may be exhibited before angels and
men. Job is introduced to us as a rich Edomite Emeer,
happy in his family and in his enormous possessions.
J
He also knows the true God under the name Elehim,
and is scrupulous in the established observances of
piety. Heaven is thrown open to us that we may see
what Yahwb himself thinks of Job, and how the Satan
is only permitted to hurl this great and good man into
an abyss of misery that his piety may come out as pure
gold. The deed is done, and Job, stricken with a
loathsome sickness (see PESTILENCE), withdraws to the
ash-mound ( m a z b a h ) of his village (cp Lam. 45).
' Flesh for flesh,'2 the Satan had said (24) ; 'his dearest
relations are nothing to a man, if he may but save his
life.' That, however, was not the right reading of
Job's character. His wife's faith indeed gave way.
~~~~
Loyal to her husband, but faithless to her God, she
bade Job be a man, since God withheld the reward of
piety, and curse his all-powerful enemy before he died.
To Job, however, this was the height of folly ; she who
so spoke had degraded herself-had become ' one of the
foolish women' (see FOOL). Not only did he ' speak
no rash word3 against God,' he willingly accepted the
1 Jerome states that the book is composed in hexameters with
a dactylic and spondaic movement. Evidently he means double
trimeters. Duport, Prof. of Greek at Cambridge translated
Job in Homeric hexameters under the title 0p;vo0piappor
(Cambr. 1653). Vetter (Die Metrib des B. Jo6 ['971), and Ley
(articles in Si. KY.'98)are the most recent special monographs
on the metre of Job.
9 Read probably l?? ly+ lt?. MT's lly lY3 llY, 'skin for
skin,' gives no adequate sense ; Schwally's explanation ( Z A T W
2046f: [I~oo]),is only slightly more plausible than that of Merx
andRudde. ,
3 MT in 122 reads n3?5& a5Dn 1"' uh, 'and attributed
nothing unsavoury to God, the exact sense of which is variously
given(see Schultens, Di.,Bu.). Probably, however,weshonldread
2466
 JOB (BOOK)
' evil ' which could not blot from his memory the ' good '
of happier days. In a little while his three chief friends
arrive, for the news has spread far and wide ; they are
doubtless Enieers like Job, and they know how true
sympathy should express itself.
The prose narrative is resumed in the Epilogue.
Yahwk declares that his anger is kindled against the
friends of Job became they have not said of him the
thing that is right, like his servant Job; he tells them
to offer sacrifice, and Job shall intercede for them, ' that
sudden ruin may not befall them.'l So Job prayed for
them, and, as a public act of justification, God restored
him more than his former prosperity, till at length he
dicd, old and full of days.
As a piece of narrative the Epilogue compares very
unfavourably with the Prologue. The idea that after
3. Criticism of having been proved capable of ' fearing
the preceding. God for naught,' Job should have to
spend a hundred and forty years in the
enjoyment of a commonplace prosperity~willseem t o
most moderns so unreasonable that they probably would
be glad to have reasons for cancelling it. I t is not less
strange that nothing should be said in the Epilogue
either of Satan's loss of his wager, or of Job's recovery
from his leprosy. However, to do justice to the writer
we must view him, not as an artist, but as a teacher.
The Epilogue was a necessary concession to the un-
spiritual multitude, who had been taught even by
prophets to look forward to double compensation for
Israel's afflictions2 (Is. 617 Jer. 1614-18 Zech. 912).
,Regarding-Job as a symbol of suffering Israel, Jewish
readers could not but expect him to be re-endowed with
sons and daughters, flocks and herds, and treasures of
gold3 (cp Is.541 6 0 6 J 9). Now, too, we can see
why, instead of telling ns how Job recovered from his
sicliness, the narrator uses the vague expressicn >$
n n j - n y , which is so often used of the hoped-for restora-
tiofi of the nationai prosperity (e.g.,Ps. 147 Joel3 [4] I).
He is thinking here, not of the legendary Job, but of
his people Israel.
W e next consider Prologue and Epilogue together.
Can these be by the same writer as the Colloquies?
( I ) It must be admitted that the Colloquies in general
presuppose the main facts of the story in the Prologne ;
on the other hand, in 191517f. (contrast 8 4 295) we
have certain statements which are plainly incon-
sistent with some of those facts. ( 2 ) In Job427
Job is commended for having spoken rightly of
G o d ; obviously this does nof correspond with the
speeches of Job in the Colloquies. ( 3 ) The Prologue
ascribes the trials of Job to the Satan. Nothing is
said of this in the poem; neither Job nor his friends
know anything of such a. being. (4) In the Prologue
Job is a model of patience; in the Colloquies he is
impatient. (5) The explanation of Job's sufferings
given in 1IOU is unknown to the Colloquies. (6) Sacri-
fices are essential to piety in the prose-story of Job ;
they are not once mentioned in the Colloquies.
The necessary inference is that the Prologue and the
Epilogue were written before the Colloquies, and since
o ~ ? . u S lmw NE? N'$ (cp 2 IO, and especially Ps. 106 33).
(-3 represents .UC)II; n9nnJ comes from 7,nDoII. 5 was inserted
by the last editor to make sense.)
* In 42 8 MT gives, n h j D3n.v niwy * n h S ' that I may not
do something shameful to you'-ie., give $ou a n exemplary
punishment (Bu.). The text of Job is so far from immaculate
t!iat it is better to emend it here than to force in this
wiy. A more impossible word than h h ? for Yahwe to use
could hardly be imagined. Probably we should read, ??>.l)
7 C b OJ'i)J! 3 p n . "$19 and n?& are both very liable (as
experience of Job and Psalms will show) to corruption.
2 ' I he exact doubling of Job's former possessions shows that
we are not reading literal history here' (Davidson on 42 12).
3 On the close of 4211 see KESITAH,and on'the names of
Job's three daughters the first and the third of which are
strangely misread, see 'JEMIMA, KEZIA,KEREN-HAPPUCH.
2467
JOB (BOOK)
427 implies that both Yahwk and the friends had held
discourse with Job, it follows that the present Collo-
quies (if we may provisionally regard them as a whole)
have been substituted for speeches of very different
purport which came from the narrator of the prose-
story, and were in perfect harmony with it.l
The chief value of the Epilo-ue for us moderns (who ou
aesthetic and religious grounds :like are compelled to take
exception to its contents) is that it enables us to reconstruct
the main outlines of the original colloquy and of those portions
of the story which had to be omitted together with the original
colloquy. Elsewhere a n attempt has been made to rewnstruct
what inight conceivably have formed the omitted portion of the
earlier hook of Job.2 Something of the sort can hardly be
dispensed with in a full treatise on the criticism of Job, though
to economise space it is not given here. The theory adopted
above enables us to account (a) for the severe blame which
Yahwi: gives to the three friends, and for their assumed liability
to some terrible calamity ;3 (6) for the high praise awarded to
Job. (c) in part for the expressions in the description of the
suffiring Servant of Yahwl: in Is.521p531z; and (d) for the
early view of Job, which persisted for centuries in many
quarters in spite of the later insertions in the hook, as a model
of righteousness and patient endurance.
W e must now ask, Is it possible to get behind the
remesentation given of Tob and of his misfortunes in
Legendary" the Prologue and Epilogue? That
'
there is a legendary basis may be
basis.
-
assumed as on a briori erounds lilielv.
Even the book of Tohit has its legendary element, though
the main current of t h e narrative is unaffected by it. Much
more may we expect to find a traditional hasis for the story of
Joh, which is of just the type in which the primitive imagina-
tion delighted ; indeed, the name of its hero (in striking contrast
to Tobit=Tobiah) is plainly no fiction, but a legacy from
antiquity.
The prevalent view among critics is that a wise man
of poetical gifts in J u d z a in the post-exilic period
adopted a story which had been handed on from age
to age in popular tradition, and adapted it to his own
didactic purposes.
One of the chief points in favour of this view is the super-
natural machinery of the Prologue, which has a strong quasi-
mythological character. In particular, the humorousness5
of the dialogue between Yahwl: and the Satan, which might he
abundantly paralleled from Christian hagiology, evidently re-
r t s the popular, not the official religion. On the other
and, it must be remarked (I) that the Prolqgue is evidently
constructed with a didactic object-&. , to give an adequate
explanation of the sufferings of the righteous; (2) that the
Epilogue is not fully intelligihle unless Job he understood as a
type of the people of Israel; and (3) that the Epilogue pre-
supposes that Job and his three friends have been conversing
on the subject of the divine government of the world (Job42 7),
whereas discussions on speculative snbjects are uncongenial to
the popular mind.
How far can this view be endorsed? So much as
this appears to be certain-the story of Job is based upon
a popular legend. I t is probable, however, that some
of the most interesting features of the Prologue are not
of traditional origin, but come from a cultivated wise
man who knew how to write for the people, but stood
somewhat apart both from the popular and from the
official religion. This wise man lived in the post-
exilic period, when the belief in the Satan was becoming
general. Very probably the imaginary dialogue between
Yahwb and the Satan is not merely humorous but
ironical. The narrator may wish to suggest a grave
doubt as to the appropriateness of such a belief in
Judaism ; certainly he regards the Satan, like the b'ne
Eldhim,6as no more than a part of his poetic machinery.
His main object, however, is to show (anticipating much
later teaching) that the accumulated woes of Israel are
but tests of the disinterestedness of Israel's love for
God. It is true, the Epilogue is inconsistent with
this : this wise man and artist, free-minded as he is,
has to make concessions to the multitude (see § 3).
1 See, T). B. Macdonald, 1B.L 1463-71 ('95); Duhm, Hio8,
('97), Eml. p. viii.
2 Che. /emish RcZigiorrs Lye3 161.
3 2253 (see preceding col. n. I).
4 S;;-Wellh. /DT,-187r, p. s 5 j ;Che. JoJ and Sol. 6 6 ;
Budde, pp. viiiff: ; Duhm, p. viif:
5 Cp/o6 andSol. IIO (parallel between Job and ljarrsf).
6 1.e. 'members of the divine guild' (ANGELS, 8 2).
2468
 JOB (BOOK)
Most probably all that he adopted from the legend
was ( I ) the name of the hero and of the land in which
he lived ; (2) the fact of Job's close intercourse with
God ; and ( 3 ) the surprising circumstance that this
most righteous and divinely favoured of men was
attacked by some dread disease such as leprosy, but
was ultimately healed. So much as this was not
improbably known to Ezekiel, who (14~4 ao) mentions
three men, Noah, Daniel (or rather perhaps ' Enoch '-
see E NOCH ), and Job as having escaped from peril of
death by their righteousness. The original story was
probably derived from Babylonia (cp preceding article).
Eabani, the friend of the solar hero GilgameS (see
ENOCH), himself too created for E a by the potter-
goddess Aruru, was attacked by a distressing sickness,
apparently the same from which Gilgarne? had for a
time been a sufferer. In the Babylonian legend Eabani
dies, whereas Gilgame? is healed for a time by a magic
potion and immersion in the fountain of life in the
earthly paradise. It would seem that in Palestine one
part of the story of Gilgameg dropped away from that
hero and attached itself to Eabani, whose name became
Hebraised into pw, out of which arose >Vn, 'Zyy5b
(Job). Probably the story was brought by the Israelites
from Hauran, if, as has been suggested (see HARAE;),
the Haran of Genesis is a distortion of Hanran. The
' land of Uz ' (see Wz) was therefore probably in the NE.
of Palestine, where indeed the name ' Uz' would naturally
lead us to place it, but is transferred to Edom by the
author of the original Book of Job, because of the tra-
ditional reputation of the Edomites for wisdom1 (Obad. 8 ;
cp T EMAN). This new situation suggested the mention
of the Sabeans ( I I ~ ) ,and the Cushites (117; read
n"'liD.. . for p ? q ; see CUSH,5 2, i. ), also the designation
of Jbb as ' the greatest of all the sons of Jerahmeel '
( 1 3 ; read 'mDni9 m for nip $23; see J ERAHMEEL ,
K EDEM , MAFIOL)and of the friends of Job as a
Temnnite, a Zarhite, and a Temanite respectively
(for the emendations here adopted see SHUHITE,
ZOPHAR). The later wise man (once more we pro-
visionally assnme the unity of the Colloquies) who,
a s we have seen, discarded the original Colloquies
and substituted new ones, does not seem to have
altered the Prologue and Epilogue. To his work,
which from the very first impressed thinkers as much
as the prose narrative of Job impressed the multitude,
we now direct our attention. Evidently he admired
that narrative, for he has adopted i t ; but not less
evidently he was not satisfied even by the attractive
theory embodied in the Prologue, partly, we may
suppose, because it depended for its efficacy on the
opening of the heavens, and the admission of human
listeners to the council-hall of ElOhim. For the wise
men sought to connect religion as much as possible with
mother-earth.
It should be noticed that there are three cvcles of
5. First cycle speeches, or colloquies, so that each
of speeches. friend speaks nine times (on Zophar's
third speech see below), and Job answers
nine times. Job also opens the colloquies by a poetic
complaint.
The friends, who represent the Jewish theologians
of the author's time, are about to speak. An excuse
for this had to be provided. Submission to the divine
will was the fundamental note of the character of Job,
according to the Prologue. In order to justify argu-
mentation, the sufferer must he seen to have lost his
composure. The word ' God ' occurs but twice in Job's
complaint (chap. 3) ; he murmurs, but without accusing
God of injustice. All that he craves is an explanation
of this sudden catastrophe. Why was he suffered to
live on when born-why must he live on, now that he
is in abject misery? Piety does not forbid him to
1 For a peculiar view of the .Edomite setting' of the original
poem, see Klostermanu on I K.411.
2469
JOB (BOOK)
curse his natal day-the day which &gun with the
night of his birth.
Perish the day on which I was to be born
And the night which said, Behold,l a boy'!
Let not God above ask after it
Let not the moon show her splendour above it.2
Years and days are not imaginary, but have an
objective existence in the unseen world. Job would
fain revenge himself on this luckless day. As Moulton
well says, 'All variations of darkening that fancy
can suggest are invoked to blot out that day
which betrayed Job into life.'3 Then Eliphaz the
Temanite comes forward. He is the oldest of the
party-older than Job's father.(l5xo). It is char-
acteristic of him that he appeals to special revelations
of his own; characteristic of Bildad that he loves to
appeal to tradition; characteristic of the young and
impetuous Zophar that he appeals to no authority but
his own judgment, and gets irritated at any one who
disputes the correctness of his t h e ~ r y . ~
All are agreed
that the cause of all calamity (and therefore of Job's) is
sin, whereas Job himself from the first ascribes his
trouble to some baffling mystery in God himself. The
point which is not clear to the friends is, whether the
calamity which has befallen Job is a punishment or
merely an educational. chastisement. They could not
have hesitated to adopt the second view but for the
vehemence of J o b s complaint which seemed to them
unbecoming in a devout man. Eliphaz gently re-
monstrates with his friend, and, if textual corruption be
removed, his speech will not strike us as either un-
connected or dictatorial. Why should Job lose heart?
Who ever perished, being innocent? Job must know
this; clearly Eliphaz does not expect any criticism of
his statement. There is one truth, however, of which
Job seems to him not fully aware; indeed Eliphaz
himself had needed to have it enforced by a special,
personal revelation, whispered to him by a mysterious
form at night ( 4 17-21) :-
Can mortal man be righteous before God?
Can man be pure before his maker?
Behold he trusteth not his servants
...
His hoiy ones are unclean before GAd ;
How much more the dwellers in houses of clay
Do they not dry up when he bloweth upon them?
They die, but withdut wisdom.6
What, then, is man's true wisdom? It is to
recognise trouble as the consequence of sin, and not
to he seduced into irritating words which can only
lead to the complete destruction both of the fool who
utters them and of his children ( 5 2 4J). Does Job
think that there is anyone of the celestials who can be
induced to help him? H e will hardly indulge in this
fancy after the revelation which Eliphaz has just
related. For his own part, Eliphaz would rather turn
trustfully to God, whose purposes are so unsearchable,
but, for the righteous man, so beneficent. H e con-
cludes with an idealistic picture of the happiness in
store for Job, if he will defer to the friendly advice
offered to him by Eliphaz (517-27).
Job48-11 and 536s I O are late insertions which spoil the
fine rhetoric of the poet. Chap. 5 is also questioned by
Siegfr Beer and Duhm hut seeys to be protected by 4 186 if
read &; emeAded above ;Iindeed, call now,' etc. is much too
vigorous an address for an ordinary glossator. Verse 7 needs
correction in order to suit v. 6, but cannot be rescued for the
poem, both v. 6 and v. 7 being alien to the Temanite's argu-
ment, (Verse 7 should probably be read, 'Yea man brings
forth misery, and the sons of wickedness pour faith iniquity';
1 n??for 727 (€' 6 1806; Bick., Bu., Du.).
2 See translation of four stanzas of Job's complaint; with
justification, in Ex$. T10 380s('99).
3 B o 3 of/ol, Introd. p. xix.
4 Cp Davidson, 106
5 In I. 4 read ?\$Q l$$l? h4:f. After 1. 5 we have
omitted four lines, to avoid having to justify emendations at too
great length. When we follow @, there is a quotation from Is.
40 24. See Beer ad loc.
2470
 JOB (BOOK)
]\yW'?' Y W l '>?> Tf13 be\ 0;: '?. Cp Budde, Duhm,
Matthes).
Bildads first speech is chiefly remarkable for his
respectful attitude towards tradition. We are of
yesterday,' he says, and know nothing' (Sg), whereas
the wisdom of the past is centuries old, and has a
stability to which Job's new-fangled notions (for Job
represents a ' new school ' of religious philosophy)
cannot pretend. Here the first genuine allusion to
Egypt m?, ' Nile-grass,' 8 1 1 ; see R EED ) should be
noticed; also Bildad's cruel reference to the fate of
Job's children ( 8 4 ) . Zophar gives a panegyric of the
divine wisdom (115-8), which, however, only leads up
to the poor inference that God must be able to see
secret sin ( l l r r ) , and which Job (122f: I I J 14-25
13~ f) reduces,
: as he thinks, to its just proportions.
The saying in 116c,,'Know therefore that God exacteth of
thee less than thine iniquity deserveth' (EV) is indeed a
terrible one hut Zophar is not to he held responsible for it.
I t is not an herpolation, however, but an editorial attempt to
mske sense of a corrupt passage. When duly emended, it may
assist us in the emendation of 11 66, which should probably run
thus, 'That thou mightest know that it (;.e., divine wisdom) is
marvellous in reason': n l i g 75 71' *J ly,) is corrupted from
fi$?n\ 0'N& '? Y??]. Chap. 12 has been much misunder-
stood. Grill would excise 12 4-13 2 as a later insertion. Sieg-
fried prints 124-6 and 127-13 I in colours (as insertions): and
Duhm omits 127.10 and 124-6, and makes 124-6 (tristichs, he
thinks) parallel to the cycle of poems in chaps. 24 and 30 2-8.
This is simply owing to corruptions of the text which have
obscured the meaning. Probably the only interpolations are
w. 49 and 13. The passage should begin, No doubt with you
is discernment, And with you is perfection of wisdom. Yea I
have not learned wisdom, And your secrets I know not (cp I;).
But ask now the beasts that they may teach thee, etc. (uu.75).
The wicked man at the judgment is confident. At (God's) fixed
time his foot is secure, etc. (vu. sJ). Doth not the ear try
words, etc. (v. IT).
The only result of these successive speeches is to
make the complaints of the sufferer bolder and more
startling. But before he ' gives free course to his com-
plaint' (10 I), he secures his right to do so. The im-
mensity of his woe is his justification. All he asks of
his friends is-spoken or silent sympathy ; but he asks
it in vain, and this intensifies his agony. The friends
may lecture to him on the infinite power and wisdom of
God. Miserable comfort ! He knows it only too well.
T o be compelled to think that this power and wisdom
is not directed by morality, and that he is worth no
more to the Almighty and the All-wise than the moun-
tains which he removes, or the rivers which he dries
up, is acutely painful. Job does not profess to under-
stand God's dealings in the world of nature, but hitherto
it has appeared to him that he understood Gods inter-
course with His moral creature-man. He looks for
consistency in G o d s dealings with moral beings. The
sudden transition from happiness to misery in Job's
case can only, so he fancies, be ascribed to capricious-
ness in God; or, if we may express the underlying
symbolic meaning, the catastrophe by which a religious
and prosperous people like Israel was suddenly crushed
by the iron heel of a foreign despot, appears to show
that Zion has been forgotten by her God. As for the
theory that calamity is a chastisement, it will not apply
to Job's case, for his days are numbered, and even for
those few days God, as if a wild beast, cannot refrain
from torturing his prey. Yet, such is the power of true
religion, the man who utters these desperate words,
pleads with his God for gentler treatment ! These three
speeches of Job ( 6 J 9f. 12-14) are rich in poetic
ore; but we have space here only for the wonderful
expressions of an inextinguishable heart-religion which
occur near the close of the first and third speeches
respectively.
1 Davidson's remark (p. 88) that in reply to Zophar Job
shows, by a brilliant declaration of the divine wisdom and
power that he is a greater master in the knowledge of these
than his friends are hardly touches the main point. Job
admits that God is ;vise; but the result of his observation IS
that God's wisdom is mainly devoted to destructive ends.
2471
JOB (BOOK)
I t will be noticed that in the first quotation a supposed
'parody' of Ps. S5[6] and an unaesthetic phrase which no
Arahicparallel can make tolerable, have disappeared. Ifemenda.
tion is permissible, it is so here.1
What is man that thou shouldest spy him out,
And direct thine attention to him?
That thou shouldest try him (by fire) every morning
And test him every moment?
*
How long ere thou look away from me
Ere thou leave me that I may have a Aoment's cheer?
Why hast thou set me as a target?
Why am I unto thee as a mark?
1
And why dost thou not pardon my transgression,
And cause mine iniquity to remove?
For now I must lie down in,the dust,
And when thou seekest after me, I shall he gone (7 17-21).
*
0 that thou wouldest hide me in Shed,
That thou wouldest conceal me till thine anger were spent,
That thou wouldest appoint me a set time and remember me,
If the fury of wrath should come to an end !
*
All my days of anguish I would wait
Till thy relenting came ;
Thou wouldest call, and I would answer thee,
Thou wouldest long after the work of thy hands (14 13-15).2
It will be plain, even from these quotations, that the
first part of the discussion has not been wholly useless.
6. Second It is true, the several points of view
of Job and of the friends are in some
cyc1e' respects totally different. Both parties,
however, have alike become awake to the fact
that the problem before them has more than a merely
personal reference. It is not only Job but a large
section of the human race which has, apparently, lost
its sense of union with God. The old days of idyllic
happiness and unquestioning faith have passed away
not merely for Job, but also for Israel, and for many
another people, and ' the earth' seems to be ' given over
into the hands of the wicked' ( 9 2 4 ) . According to
the friends, this was because of some sin committed by
Job (;.e., by Job'santitypes). Job, however, could not
accept this, and went on piling complaint upon coni-
plaint. The friends, he said, were treacherous, and
God was inconsistent-' He destroys the perfect and
the wicked' (922). We might have supposed that
this enlargement of the problem would have softened
Job's It does not soften i t ; the poet fails to
make the most of the psychological situation. There is
but one idea which can at all comfort Job ; it is this-
that G o d s love cannot really be extinct-that in the
depths of his nature God cannot be as hostile to him as
he seems. Though slowly dyihg he can even now
imagine God longing after him when it is, humanly
speaking, too late, and he indulges in the dream of a
successful conflict between God's wrath and God's love.4
I t is Wrath that hurries Job to Shedl . Love stands bysorrow-
fully and waits his time. Thanks to Love, it will at length be
seen that Job's removal to the dark underworld was the best
thing that could have happened. No longer seeing him, God's
1 The readings here proposed are U\??p (I. I ): ?"P):T (I. 3 ;
see Ex3.T 10 381): 5'42 ."\7N! (1. 6); (1. 8 ; cp 16128;
Beer). The opening words of v. 20 are omitted as an interpo-
lation (Bick., Du.).
2 The emendationsin14 13-15 are :- 2fX~n??Y r?h? OF (1.4);
'?:e ??$?r
(1. 5; E z j . T,Z.C.); (1.6). Of these, the most im-
portant is the first. M T has, n;n:V~ 12; n ? n p ; @ hdv yap
brro0a'vq8vOpowos <+nrai, which Bickell Cheyne(Jew. ReZ. Lyee,
q4), a i d Duhm follow ('if a man were tb die and to live again ').
This however does not fit the parallelism. (y and 2 , n and ri
are &ily confounded.)
a Cp the touching apologue of the mustard-seed in Guu'dha-
ghosha's ParabZes.
4 On this division of God into two parties, cp Davidson on 17 3 ;
Che. Jo6 and SOL 31. The Jewish poet I'un Gabirol finely says,
?,?>e ?Fp n?m, ' I fly from Thee to Thee' ; and our own in-
imitable Crashaw says
But thou gi&t leave (dread Lord!) that we
Take shelter from Thyself in Thee ;
And with the wings of Thine Own dove
Fly to Thy sceptre of soft love.
2472
 JOB (BOOK)
irritation will pass away, and he will long to renew his inter-
course with him on earth or in heaven. l h u s though Job will
still have the 'anguish '1 of being parted froA God, he will be
able to wait patiently for the reawakening of his love. Will
Job come to believe that this is no dream? That is the impor-
t a n t question with which we approach the second colloquy.
J o b s essential devoutness is manifest to us ; but it was
not so to his friends (cp 154). In fact, passages like
those quoted above are not intended for the ears of the
friends. They are lyric nionologues which illustrate the
dramatic process going on within the mind of Job ; they
form no real part of the colloquy. Job's narrow-
minded friends can see his outward irreverence, but not
the longing to be at peace with God which alone made
such irreverence possible. Now, they think, Job reveals
himself in his true character, and, their gentler treatment
having failed, they proceed to try the effect of lurid
pictures of the wicked man's fate,2 intending that Job
should see in these pictures no distant resemblance to
himself. This wounding language Job meets with
growing dignity. The symptoms of his sickness are
becoming aggravated; death, he feels, cannot be far
distant. He has already said, ' Yea, let him kill me, I
will not desist.$ Surely my ways I will defend before
him' (1315). But now his condition appears desperatF;4
and in his loneliness he returns to the idea that God
cannot be entirely his enemy.
Death, indeed, he cannot escape; he is caught in
God's net, and complaints of injustice are unavailing
(19 6f: ). Job is now sure that he has an avenger of
blood in heaven (cp Ps. 9 IZ [rg]) ; when he is dead, his
cry (ie., the appeal of his blood, which lies on the
bosom of the earth) will reach the ear of the divine
Love. T o mgther-earth he first makes his appeal;
then he tells the universe of a stupendous fact of his
consciousness.
0 earth cover not my blood
And let'my cry have no (resiing-) place.
Yea, I know it-my piercing cry is in heaven,
And my shriek has entered the heights.
H e will accept the words with which I cry,
My Blood-avenger will hear my call,
That be may decide between a man and God
And between man and his fashioner (l61-21).6
But here Job stops. It is implied that reparation will
be made for J o b s unjust and violent death; but no
surmise is offered as to the form that this will take.
The much-suffering man has advanced beyond what he
said in 932.6; he has found a 'daysman betwixt us
that might lay his hand upon us both ' ; the daysman's
nature, if not his name, is Righteous Love. But he has
not resumed the position adopted for a moment in
1 Read>$ for N!?, both in 14 14 and in 7 I.
There are of course, corruptions of the text as elsewhere.
2 (underlying ?ium), being both apparently planted
For instance '1514-19 as they stand are highly suspicious.
I t is not enodgh to om(t 7x1.14 and 17 (hi.) as interpolations. A
single stanza should take the place of nv. 14-19 ; the original text
can easily be detected under the present much-edited text.
What Eliphaz really says is, 'Ask the wise men, for they alone
have unerring wisdom ; they will not withhold their tc7ruh ' (see
crit. Bib.).
3 Read $qnN U$ (Ezp. T 10 382); MT, h :! 25, is clearly
wrong. Davidson, 'I will not wait'; Duhm, 'I cannot hold
.
out ' Budde ' I hope for nothing.'
4 f h e padage, l B m , 17 IJ, so far as we can understand it,
interrupts the context, and must surely be an interpolation. Cp.
Siegfried's notes.
6 Lines 3 and 4 in M T run, ' Even now,, behold, my witness
isinheaven, and mywitness isin the heights. Butthecontextre-
quiresmore thana ' witness'of Job'sinnocence, and J m w (Aram.)
occurs only once again in the MT, and there it is corrupt (see
JEGAR-SAHADUTHA). Read probably Dy$ ?Q;? !'p?;-:i2
o p i l q "52 'np@). Sense, metre, and the textual phenomena
are thus satisfied. Lines 51: make a miserable sense in M T ;
6 represents an iutwmediate stage between the true text and
MT. The true text may be something like this, $t? "1:
*!$ Up@' 'n)?n? VI@. In line 8, for Vtpl read il$l' (illus-
trated by the argument in 108). 'His friend,' however explained,
whether as Job's friends (collectively) or as a title for God, is
intolerable. For a minute, though not quite satisfactory discus-
sion of the passage, see Budde ; and on the versions see Beer.
2473
&B (BOOK)
14 13-15 ; he does not on this occasion specify the form
which the expected reparation, or vengeance for blood,
will take. It was a noble idea that he had stated ; but,
not being able to offer any tangible proof of its correct-
ness, he soon falls back into his old elegiac strain, and
even appeals to the friends for pity (19 21). He might
as well have appealed to icebergs. From their averted
faces the persecuted heretic sees that his doom is sealed.
If God had not marked him out for death, they might
have thought to do God service (cp 13 8) by stoning
him. Job warns them of their guilt (cp 13 I O $ ) ; lie
does not threaten them with ' the sword,' as the faulty
M T represents. First, however, he revives his own
courage by giving for the third time a public expression
to his unextinguished belief in his God (19 25f.). We
cannot indeed venture, in deference to later Christian
beliefs, to let the text of 19 25-27 pass, and assnme that
the passage refers either to the hope of the resurrection,
or at least to the hope of conscious and continuous
intercourse with God in an unbodied state of existence
cp ESCHAIOLOGY). A close examination of the text
shows that it has not only suffered corruption but also
received interpolations, and our general experience with
the ancient versions (which have often made prophets
and poets give support to the later eschatology) justifies
us in dealing with the M T somewhat freely. The
present writer's attempt at a thoroughly critical restora-
tion may be thus rendered,-
As for me I know it-my Avenger lives,
And (lyin;) in the dust I shall receive his pledge ;
Shaddai 1 will bring to pass my desire,
And as my justifier I shall see God.
li
When ye say 'We will pursue him like a hart
And will satdfy ourselves with his (lacerated) desh ' ;
Have fear for yourselves because of your words,
For those are words of iniquity (1925-29).
So then the dream of a permanent resurrection of the
old intercourse with God on earth or in heaven is not
finally ratified by J o b s mature thought. Still he
ventures nearer to that dream than when he uttered the
cry to mother-earth. H e will not give up his belief in
God's righteousness, and therefore declares it to be
certain that God will one day publicly recognise his
servant's innocence; and since on the one hand it is
essential to the completeness of this reparation that Job
should witness it, and on the other it is inconceivable
(14 12) that man should ' awake, or be raised out of his
sleep' to the old familiar life, it is the only solution
which remains that the unbodied spirit of Job should
for a moment he transferred to the upper world to a see
God as his justifier.' On this view great stress must
be laid ; no other exegesis appears possible, ~ ~ y - $ p ,
'on the dust (of Shad),' and 'pwn, 'my justifier'
firmly in the text. That God can ' both kill and make
alive ' would no doubt have been granted by the poet ;
exceptionally a man like Enoch or Elijah might doubt-
less be saved eitherfrom death or out ofdeath. But he
regards his hero not as an exceptional person hut as a
representative df the class of righteous sufferers, and as
such (so the poet thinks) Job cannot be raised from the
dead.
Job, then, in some unimaginable way will for a
moment be enabled to see the Light of lights-El6gh.
His desire has been to have his innocence established
by the righteous Judge ; that desire ' Shaddai will bring
to pass.' First, the G@I, or Vindicator (see GOEL),will
convey to Job the ' pledge ' of his willingness to act as
Gael (cp Ruth 4 7J), then the solemn act of justification
will be performed in the presence of Job. We must
not be 'wise above that which is written,' and speculate
with the help of later Jewish eschatology on the change
which, for Job, must pass upon Shad when he returns
thither at peace with God. Certain it is, that Job, and
therefore also his poet, has broken with the conventional
1 Shaddai (see NAMES, 5 117), occurs 31 times in the hlT of
Job.
2474
 JOB (BOOK)
doctrine of Shbal, but he has not formed a new and
better doctrine, capable of being presented in poetical
form.
The view that Job anticipates restoration to health and
prosperity in this life still finds supporters (see Bu., I I O ; Laue,
49f ' Beer 127). It appears to the present writer to he con-
ne&d with an a priori view of the structure of the Book of
Job, and, in the case of Budde especially, with an unduly
optimistic view of M T in this passage. Di. and Da. both
favour the view that Job's justification will be after death ; such
also, in a form agreeing in es5entials with that given ahove, is
the view of We. (IJG 177), Smend (ReL Gesch. 471), and Du.
104. Of these critics, Duhm has given most attention to t h e
text; hut his retention of '???p and his introduction of
l? (which properly means a tribal or religious sign on the
person [see CROSS]) can by no means be justified. The restor-
ation offered ab& is the writer's third experiment ; it is,
even if imperfect, neither hasty nor arbitrary. A few notes
aD .
_-D e a r necessarv. I n 1. 2 we should Drohabh read '131Ul:5.
as in 17 3 [Beer Bu. Du.] a passage which belongs to the same
group as 1925129 : $.e., it'implies the idea of a division in t h e
divine Being-the God of love over against the God of wrath.
For the impossible w3n read '?*?& (Is. 508) : this reading
is practically certain. M T s p N is now generally explained
as 'afterman '=' vindicator' (cp Perles, Analekten, 74), which
produces a good parallel to 7 5 ~ 1 , hut is in itself unnatural.
ori~3 ~ y - has ~ intelligible meaning. As Eichhorn (Allgem.
5 no
Bz6Zzolhek 1 3 8 8 ) remarks sy pi always means 'to assail.'
Unaware gf Eichhorn We: v D T r 1 6 556[)7~]) makes the same
observation and propkes to render MT, 'will arise (as witness)
against dus; '-<.e., against the friends(cp Job 419) ! This being
too artificial either sy or p l y must he read, and con-
sidering how'emphatical?; (721) Jdh has mentioned his expec-
tation of 'lying down on the dust'-i.e., on the dusty .-round of
Shed (see 1716), it is the more reasonable course t o :mend the
latter and retain &7p, which means '(lying) upon the dust'
(2011 21 2 6 ; .cp 721). npti for op' is an easy change; the
preformatives N and 9 are frequently confounded. In 1. 3 for
'11V read probably '71; 1nN is dittographed. For nN1 1531
read 'n$$g I?;; ' fell out owing to ' w ; cp 1715 (in dread
*ninn). The much tortured 19yi is a mere editorial guess.
qi-4 i v is~clearly a corruptiod of y w x n (note the warning
Pasek), and 3 5 of a r k i i - ~ sii ~ iis ia gloss on h n N ;
~ y
*pn3 d u 153 is a corruption of ~ ? p p WJVII, a gloss on
.
pip' p y - 5 ('God shall arise . . lo revive me fr.m m y
p a v e ). I?I 1. 5f: the critics have not noticed that Joh returns
to his statement in v. 22 ; yet to a practised eye 7x1 eic, should
reveal its secret. Read y3tm llw3n1 $ r l D J 13DlU 'n '3
,s!
(s;c for in 2). 22, Reiske, Perles, Beer) ; 1lv3n1has two
beats. In I. 7J is too vague and the threat of a violent
death is not in character with thd Job of chaps. 3-19. Nor is
there any allusion to the threat in Zophar's third speech. Read
03131 and nllry '131, and for ann read a@? (Ges.). The last
three words of v. 29 in the consonantal text (read, with Bu.,
~: ['?I, 'that ye may know that there is a judge') are a
gloss.
Job has now taken a long step forward tow-ards the
religious solution of the problem of the suffering of the
,. Original individuaz, and since true religion
is primarily individualistic he can, if
close of he will, afford to lay the large problem
colloquies. of the suffering of classes of men on one
side. The importance of the deeply felt utterance of
Job in 1925f.is universally acimitted ; yet none perhaps
have realised its bearing on the structure of the poem
,except Meinhold' and Laue.2 The former critic makes
8 new part of the poem begin at chap. 20 ; the latter
thinks that the non-appearance of Yahwb to recognise
Job's innocence has produced a radical transformation
of the character of Job, who, aggrieved at his dis-
appointment, becomes an open blasphemer, gives an
unqualified denial to the divine righteousness, and,
welcoming a temptation which he has twice before
'(9.f. 13 1 8 8 ) overcome, challenges God, in language
full of Titanic pride, to an investigation of his case
'(3135-37). The latter view is, certainly inadmissible.
Nothing is said in the second cycle of speeches which
leads us to suppose that Job had expected God to
I iVeueJahrb6.$ dertsch. Th., '92, p. go.
2 Die Corn). des B. Hi06, 53, 77, 141.
2475
J O B (BOOK)
appear for his vindication and been disappointed ; the
account of 1925f., which this view presupposes, is that
which the best recent critics of Job have rejected.
Still, it remains true that the Job whom we meet with
from chap. 20 onwards, lacks that tender religious
undertone which surprises and delights us in the first
colloquy, and we might be tempted to suppose with
Meinhold that a new part of the poem begins at chap.
20. This supposition we might support by the
theory that when the poet reached the end of chap. 19,
he laid his work aside for a t h e , and that when he
resumed it he was himself in a less religious and a
more definitely critical frame of mind than before.
This theory, however, is by no means probable. The
poet would certainly have corrected his earlier work,
and not have allowed such strongly contrasting works
to stand side by side. W e cannot help supposing that
another member of the guild of wise men to which the
poet belonged, took up his work and continued it, so
as to embody a somewhat different conception of the
hero. This view is supported by the phenomena of
chaps. 29-31. Several critics have noticed that this
much-admired section is deficient in unity. Chaps. 29J
are an elegy ; chap. 31 is a proud self-justification. The
present writer formerly thoughta that the author might
have written chap. 31 some time after he wrote chaps.
29J, and have placed it here by an afterthought,
omitting to construct a connecting link with the preced-
ing chapter. But there is no necessity for such an
assumption here. The elegy in chaps. 291: appears to
be the original conclusion of the colloquies-the counter-
part of the elegy (chap. 3) which forms the opening of
the poem. *'
Any one who will read chaps. 19 and 29J consecu-
tively will be struck by the appropriateness of the
arrangement. Chap. 19 itself is strongly elegiac. As
Davidson says, ' H e realises ...more clearly than
ever he had done before, his dreary isolation, God and
men being alike estranged from him, which he laments
in most pathetic words.' ' Have pity, have pity upon
me, 0 ye my friends,' is its central passage, and when
the sufferer thinks of the cruel insinuations of his
friends, he warns-he does not threaten them. He
speaks indeed of an Avenger of blood, but it is God,
not God's misguided advocates, from whom reparation
is expected, and there is an Over-God, whose nature is
Love, and whom Job longs to be permitted to love.
After this we are prepared to hear his sorrowful retro-
spect of past happiness in chap. 29, and the contrasted
contemplation of his present abject condition in chap.
30. The first part is a poetic commentary on the
opening verses of the prologue (11-5) :-
0 that I were as in months past,
As in the days when God watched over me.
When he made his lamp shine ahove my head,
By his light I went in darkness ;
According as I fared in my (life's) way,
When God screened my tent :
When mine intimates were with me,
And my children were round about me (292-5)s
It seems far back-the time when the poor and father-
less blessed him, and when the great hushed their
words at his presence. Now to those who once
honoured him he is a b y - ~ o r d . The
~ Providence which
used to guard him is no more; God hears him not.
1 It is true, 2313 expresses disappointment at God's evident
determination not to hear Job's case, but this has no reference
to the hope uttered in 1925f: Although Job's wish for an
equitable discussion of his case has found repeated expression,
he has never deluded himself with the fancy that his wish will
be granted. He could never have said, with reference to this,
qq 1, ' I know,' ' I am sure.'
8/oh and Solomor, 39, n. 1.
3 Reading ibpp or ibma (Olshausen, Bu., Beer, Du.):
*niwin?' n w i w m (cp 65);ym:n (Ps. 88 19).
z301-8shozld i: omitted (see $$8, IT), and v. g should follow
2920.
2476
 JOB (BOOK)
Life has ceased to be a song of joy ; he is perishing by
a slow, painful death.
My skin falls, blackened from me,
My bones are burned wi;h heat ;
My cithern is changed to mourning,
My pipe to notes of grief (30303).
So ends the elegy according to the present text. Most
probably, however, 311-4 has taken the place of two
lost stanzas which formed the real conclusion ; l after
this may have come the editorial notice, ‘ The words of
Job are ended’ (31406). That the writer intended it
to be followed by the present epilogue is impossible;
neither chap. 19 nor chap. 30 could possibly have been
followed by 4‘37. Whether the writer gave an epilogue
of his own, or left his work a torso, it is impossible to
,conjecture.
The skilful writer who, with an object that we shall
see later, undertook to continue the earlier poem, had
8. Third cycle, no difficulty in adopting his pre-
decessor’s style, though he fails very
much in consistent delineation of character. Zophar
no doubt is still the same blunt person as before
(though 207a must not be quoted as a proof of this),3
hut Eliphaz too is surely blunt enough in 222-20. Job
for his part disdains to answer such revilings. He is
absorbed in the astonishing heresy (so he deems it)
which he has to propound. He shrinks from it with
horror, and yet ventures to state it-the divine governor
of the world is non-moral. The friends may prescribe
methods of operation to God which are pleasing to
human minds, hut God too clearly shows that they are
not the methods which he himself adopts.
Not unnaturally chap. 21 gave offence to many
readers. It appears that vv. 16-18 were inserted to
conform the passage to the prevalent doctrine of
retribution. Though Budde and Duhm still claim for
i t the authorship of Job, Siegfried‘s view, which is here
adopted, seems more probable. At any rate, dogmatic
corrections have certainly been made elsewhere in this
chapter. Thus, in v. 136 MT says, that after a prosper-
ous life the wicked man goes down ‘ i n a moment’
(y~na)into Shb6l. This cannot be right ; the true text
probably had xy?. ‘in luxury.’ So in v. 3oa and 6
or.’) is an orthodox correction which makes Job say that
the wicked man is reserved for the day of calamity, and
led forth (?) to the day of wrath.
I n v. 30a it seems necessary to read TNp and in b Dial!
(Du.). iia*seems to be a corruption of 52: (3 should also be
read for 2’7; in v. 28). The whole description of the wicked
man’s career in nu. 28-33 is full of textual errors. ‘Know their
tokens’ (u. 296) should be ‘examine travellers’ (bib) D.nlk;
? ~ m ) . Vu. 3 2 3 are ludicrously wrong. Read probably,
‘Seeing that he is escorted (in honour) to the citadel, and
,diligently seeks the sanctuary of God’“ (il?t?> n;l$ i-fl?i!
lnd: s!), ‘Gold he amasses like the sand, and of his
treasures there is no number’ (i3y 1’??$?! hn?.ii 1’X: On$
TDt2). Perhaps no passage has given more useless exercise to
exegetical ingenuity than this.
That even Eliphaz should follow Zophar’s example,
and hurl the falsest accusations against Job, would be
indeed a striking phenomenon, if the original writer
were responsible for this speech. ’Surely,’ he says,
‘thy wickedness is great, and thine iniquities are
‘infinite’ (225). Job must be a practical atheist (vu.
21-30 appear to be a later i n ~ e r t i o ndesigned
,~ to mitigate
the strange contrast between the Eliphaz of chap. 22,
1 31 I looks as if it were based on a scarcely legible text which
the editor interpreted according to his own fancy.
2 Iri its sadness the present conclusion reminds us of the close
of Ps. 88-a very Job-like psalm (cp Delitzsch).
For read i7)3j(E.rp.T10382).
4 The sanctuary would naturally be attached to the citadel.
6 Note the points of contact between 2224 (Eliphaz) and
2133 (Job. emended text). I t is not likely that the chief
poet bnnshf would have fallen into such a close parallelism
between Job and Eliphaz.
2477
JOB (BOOK)
and the kindly speaker who opened the first colloquy).
Job’s next speech, in its original form, was probably
intended to show that, as the wicked often enjoy a long
and prosperous life, so the righteous often experience
nothiiig but misery.l Such a case is his own. God’s
commandments have been his rule of life. If he could
only find God-xho ever eludes his search-and induce
him to listen to his plea, his vindication would be
certain. True, Job w-ould have to make one condition
with God (236; cp 934, 1321). In M T the passage is
strangely distorted ; most probably it should run thus-
H e would remove the pressure of his hand upon me ;
Then he would use no threatening LO me.2
But alas! it has become too plain that God has
resolved to destroy him (v.13 ; read in? with Bu., Du.),
though God knows full well that if he were to examine
him, Job would come forth as gold (a.IO) ; and feeling
himself to be the spokesman of the suffering righteous
everywhere, Job goes on (so we must suppose) to pro-
duce further evidence for the awful theory of Gods non-
moral character. The true continuation, however, has
been lost. Chap. 24, as Duhm rightly holds, is not a
connected discourse, but a cycle of poems written in
tristichs instead of tetrastichs.x It is only 2425 that we
can safely regard as genuine ; this is the true close of
Job’s original speech.
How Bildad took this powerful indictment of the
Governor of the world, does not appear. His third
speech was lost, and a rhetorical description of the
power, wisdom, and purity of God was inserted as a
substitute. The second part of this description was,
by a scribe’s error, transposed so as to stand after 26 1-4.
The latter passage is properly Job’s ironical answer to
this superfine but unoriginal piece of rhetoric; it is
therefore necessarily not genuine. J o b s true answer to
the (lost) speech of Bildad is to be found in chap. 27.
It is, however, impossible to ascribe the whole of this
chapter to Job ; part of it in all probability is a genuine
fragment of the third speech of Zophar.“ The calm-
ness of Job’s dignified protest in vv. 1-6 and 12 is very
noteworthy. Duhm contrasts it with the bitterness of
J o b s earlier speeches, and ascribes the change of tone
to the intuition expressed by Job in chap. 19. The
observation is just; but the cause assigned does not
seem to be the right one. As we have seen, it is a
partly new conception of Job that underlies these later
chapters. Job is calm because that bitter-sweet under-
current of yearning love to God which appears again
and again in chaps. 3-19 does not disturb or distract
him.
If it is correct to view 277-11 13-23 as a fragment of
Zophar’s last speech, the latter certainly merited the
disdain with which Job treated it. It is, however, not
impossible that we have here the attempt of a later
orthodox writer to make the sufferer retract his heterodox
statements (cp chap. 28). At any rate it has no right
to appear in the last speech of Job, the true continuation
of which ninst be sought elsewhere. We have in fact
reached the great ‘ Oath of Clearing,’ by which Job
finally proves his innocence, and which represents the ’
1 Cp 2315-17 with 216 (which precedes the description of the
prosperity of the wicked). The parallelism is pointed out by
Duhm.
a +gt? h: pn?:
g: op1: ti5 Kin ’p!
In 2366 ‘8 should be read thus, e?m L r e ~ A i i av &oi 05
XpjUfTac.
3 The tristichs in m. 1-4 are imperfectly preserved, and the
form may therefore be doubted. It does not seem likely, how-
ever that this member of the cycle of poems would be in
tetrdstichs when the other members were in tristichs.
4 So Gra. (MGWJ, 21241$), Che. (Job and Sol. 38), G.
Hoffm Duhm. GrZtz and Hoffm., however, are wrong in
assign& chap. 28 to Zophar (see below). Zt is only 277-11
and 13.23 which can reasonably be given to this lover of
platitudes.
6 Moulton, p. 36.
2478
 J O B (BOOK)
high-water mark of Old Testament morality. His last
words to his friends are-
Behold, ye have all seen it '
Why then do ye so vainly ;age? (27 12).1
Then, in all probability, followed an appendix, so
framed as to form a parallel to chaps. 29 f: The
opening words were transferred to the end, when chaps.
29 f. were removed to their present place. Let us
restore 3135-37 to its proper place at the head of the
' Oath of Clearing,' and since it is highly corrupt, let
us endeavour to emend it in accordance with Job's
aspirations elsewhere.
0 that he would hearken to my voice, .
[And listen to the words of my complaint,]
That he would take away the insulting of mine opponent,a
That he would lay his hand upon us both I
* * * * * * * Anticipating some surprise at Elihu's appearance, the
Surely my concern would I present,
1 would arrange arguments for him ;
I would tell him the numher of my steps,
My rising up and my lying down he would examine.
The usual view is that Job imagines himself approaching
the Divine Judge (whom in li. 356 he is made to call ' m y
adversary') with the proud self-possessionof a 'prince' (79>3),
holding the accusation written by God and his own answer with
his signature and that Job declares that if he hut possessed
this accusatiAn he would not hide it as a thin which brought
disgrace, but dould parade it upon his back ({a: a distinction
(cp Is. 22 2 2 ) ) and (or ?) wear it as a diadem on his brows. All
this is violently improbable, and yet this very passage is
utilised in the service of the theory that Job fell away from his
God (Laue, 9. 96). Truly Hoffmann deserves credit for his
refusal to twist the exegesis of 71. 36 in order to soften the
surprising character of the passage. It is God he says whom
Job says that he will take upon his hack and biAd upon himself
as a coronet-an ' Ungeheuerlichkeit,' says Budde ; yes, indeed,
hut an inevitable one, if the present text is to he strictly
interpreted. It is probable that the passage can he restored
nearly to its original state. The most important emendations
are (I. 3) '?*?-d*+ n q qhf:!; (1. 4) WJ.~+ ii; n-cj;!; (I. 5 )
d'+U '?Jtt!p h+; (1. 8) l>F: 'p;I?] 'p? For the rest, see
Crit. Bib.
Then this ideal righteous man tells us how he would
clear himself if God were to hear his cry, and investi-
gate his case. H e goes through a catalogue of evil
deeds and thoughts, and in the most solemn manner
imprecates upon himself God's vengeance if he be guilty.
The first two stanzas ( = v v . 5-8) fit on particularly well
to the last stanza of the introduction ( L e . , 3135-37) ;
they continue the figure of the ' way.' The last stanza
is by no means an equally good conclusion. Doubt-
less, like V U . 35-37 (which, as we have seen, should form
the opening of the chapter), it has been misplaced, and
probably the same fate has befallen V V . ~ 9 - 3 4 . ~If so,
the last extant part of the monologue will be ( V U . 26J)-
If, when I saw how the sun shone,
Or the moon walking in splendour,
My heart was secretly beguiled
And I kissed-putting hand to kouth.
This, however, cannot be the true conclusion. Un-
fortunately that was lost at an early date, and the two
opening stanzas were detached so as to form a con-
clusion.
W e can now see why the second wise man undertook
to continue the original colloquies. It was to complete
the disproof of the current theorythat sufferingwas always
either disciplinary or educative. This wise man must
have agreed with his predecessor in rejecting the
Epilogue, and he would certainly not have sanctioned
either the speeches of Elihu or even the grand orations
of Yahwb.
1 Read h>jlnF ; cp Ps. 62 11, where a similar emendation is
repuired.
2 31 1-4 are doubtless an editorial insertion (cp 21. 4 with v.
37a). They fill the place of a n illegible passage.
3 'The opponent' is a collective term for the friends who
with one consent vilify Job (cp Ps. 43 I). In the next liAe the
continuator forgets that, according t o the original poet, God
is Job's adversary, and the friends merely his partial advocates.
4 Davidson's view of w . 24-34 as the repudiation of another
class of secret sins is hardly quite satisfactory.
2479
JOB (BOOK)
T o the speeches of Elihu we now turn our attention.
According to Duhm Elihu is brought before us as a
distinguished historical person, and
'peeches so (as a man of family') contrasts
6
Of with Job and the three friends. The
truth, however, probably is that the prolixity of the
description of Elihu in 322 is due to corruption and
interpolation ; Elihu was originally called simply ' the
son of Jerahmeel '-i. e . , the Jerahmeelite, with reference
to a Jerahmeelite famous in legend for his wisdom,
who appears to be mentioned in I K. 431 (on the text
see JERAHMEEL, 5 4).2 The lateness of the prose
introduction to chaps. 3 2 - 3 7 is shown by the use of the
ethnic 'the Buzite,' which presupposes the corrupt
traditional reading in Gen. 2221, 'and Buz his brother '
(instead of iwnynt$, ' a n d Ahibuz ; ' cp A H I ) . ~
narrator states that Elihu was angry with Job because
he held himself more righteous than God, and with
the friends because they found no answer (to Job), and
so made God seem guilty (32zf:). H e says himself
that he had waited because he was so young, and
assuredly he falls into all the worst errors of juvenility.
There is no intention, however, of amusing the reader ;
the faults of juvenility were also the faults of the narrow,
orthodox school to which the writer belonged. The
matter of which Elihu is so ' full ' ( 3 2 18-20) is distributed
over four speeches. The themes of the first three are ( I )
the ground and object of suffering (32f.), ( 2 ) the
righteousness of God ( 3 4 ) , ( 3 ) the use of religion (35).
These are treated in relation to the erroneous utterances
of Job, whom (unlike the three friends) Elihu constantly
mentions by name. Then, in his last and longest
effort, Elihu unrolls before Job a picture of the divine
government, in its beneficence and righteousness a s
well as its omnipotence, with the object of breaking
down Job's pride (36f:). It is in the second part of
his last speech that Elihu exerts himself most as a poet,
and it has often been suggested that the sketch of the
storm in 3629-375, and the accompanying appeals to
Job, are preparatory to the theophany in 38 I (so lately
Moulton, xxxiii). The objection is ( I ) that the
close of the speech of Elihu does not relate to the
storm, as it ought to do, and ( 2 ) that Yahwb begins
( 3 8 2 ) with the declaration that the last speaker was a
darkener of (the divine) counsel. W e shall return to
the Elihu section which is more interesting theologically
than poetically ; see 5 12. There is much corruption
and possibly some interpolation in ' Elihu.' But w-e
shall not spend more time on this speaker, whose
discourses are but a foil to the Colloquies, the speeches
of Ydhwk, and the Praise of Wisdom.
W e now pass on to the great poetical ornament of
the book. The Sueeches of Yahwk (38-4261 serve a
lo. Speeches tdofold purpose. They are a link
between the Colloquies (in their ex-
ofYahwb, Danded form) and the EDilozue. and
I - .
they present, if not a solution, yet a powerfully ex-
pressed substitute for a solution of the great problem of
suffering. The writer had rejected the theory defended
by the three friends; he also disapproved of Job's
vehement censure of the divine government of the world,
but not, we may suppose, of his intuition of a justifica-
tion of the righteous after death. He was obliged to
make Yahwk intervene in Job's lifetime, because he felt
it necessary for the circulation of the book (Prologue
1 Cp further $ 12.
2 ' Barachel and ' Ram ' are probably fragments of ' Jerah-
meel.'
3 'The ? d e would of course be superfluous after <sonof
Jerahmeel. It seems to be due to a scribe who had hefore him
the same corrupt text that we have. Buz' was suggested by
' UZ.'
4 Ahibuz was the true name of the brother of Uz and Jerah-
meel (?),according to Gen. 22 zrj: ' Jerahmeel' should proh-
ably be read for ' Kemuel the father of Aram,' 2'6. ; a late editor
produced the latter as a;" attempt to make sense of corrupt
fragments of ' Jerahmeel. See JERAHMEEL, $ 4 .
2480
 JOB (BOOK)
and Colloquies) that it should be accompanied by the
Epilogue, and he could not help making YahwB pass
a strong censure on J o b s fault-finding propensity, partly
no doubt to satisfy his own conscience, and partly also
to make it possible for Yahw6 in 4 2 7 to eulogise Job’s
statements respecting God (after Job had retracted all
that could justly be accused of arrogance).
An editor has prefixed to these Speeches the words,
‘And YahwB answered Job out of the tempest, and
said ’ (38 I ) , but it would have been more in the spirit
of our poet to have quoted I K. 19 Irb IZ (Elijah’s
theophany), where it is distinctly said that Yahwb was
not present in the storm-wind. It is by an appeal to
the reason, not by physical terror, that YahwB seeks to
work upon Job, though the awful mysteriousness of the
universe, as set forth poetically by YahwB, forces from
the lips of Job the words :-
I had heard of thee hy the ear,
But now mine eye has seen thee ;
Therefore I must pine away
And‘dissolve to dust and askes.1
What Job means is that his previous notions of the
divine government were derived from mere doctrine,
whereas now he had obtained a vivid intuition of God’s
working, not merely among men, but in the great and
complex universe. He had in fact seen G o d s glory,
and the strain upon his whole nature was such that he
seemed about to break down. Of consciousness of
moral offence on his part there is no trace ; his error
was of intellectual origin, and this certainly did not
require him to ‘repent in dust and ashes.’ The only
charge hrought against him is that he has ‘ darkened
(Gods) counsel by words without insight’ (382; cp
4 2 3 ) . Remonstrance is the general purport of the
speeches of YahwB, and though the form of this may be
humiliating to Job, yet the glorious pictures of nature
which are presented cannot fail to lighten his load of
grief (see Blake’s beautiful thirteenth illustration of Job).
Unfortunately the text of the Speeches is in some dis-
order. As the text stands, the Divine Speaker breaks
off at 401f: with a searching question which elicits from
Job a confession of his ignorance. This, however,
cannot be right. Another question is put in 408J,
and, as Davidson remarks, the second question is
implied in the first. As Bickell and Duhm have seen,
wv. 8-12 must originally have followed v. 2 ; the separ-
ation was consequent on the interpolation of 40 15-41 34
(Behemoth and Leviathan). The Behemoth and
Leviathan passages will be considered later ; other
insertions are the passage on the ostrich (39 13-18), and,
according to G. Hoffmann and Duhm, 38136 14b 15 ;
3828, too, should be omitted as a tautological prose
version of w. 29. The poem (for as such we may regard
it) will gain much by restoration to its original form ;
its splendid imagery will then be seen to the best
advantage.2 The earth, the sea, the world under the
sea (ShEdl), and the manifold wonders of the heavens
are successively treated ; Job is asked whether perchance
he brought these into existence, or knows the secrets
connected with them.3 More striking, however, are the
poetical pictures of animals. Nine (excluding the
ostrich) are brought before us in YahwB‘s searching
interrogatory ; the poet enters into the habits of each,
and conveys to us the fascination of which he is
conscious himself.
Regretfully we abstain from dilating on these pictures. in
special articles the omission is partly remedied (see, &.,
1 Read D?$ DE? (Bottcher, Beer), and ’?p?. Jnh surely
cannot say that he is now ready to die on his ash-mound, with
the gladness of one who has seen God (Du.).
2 Thedetails of the poem are to some extent treated in
special articles.
3 There are Zoroastrian parallels. See the question put by
Zarathustra to Ahura-mazda in the Gathas (Yasna 443-5 in the
Oxford Zenduvestu. 3 XI^) ‘ also the fine description of the
divine creative acts ‘in Bundahish 304-6 (West, Pukluvi Texts,
1121).
2481
J O B (BOOK)
.
CREATION 5 21 HORSE ; OSTRICH ; MAZZAROTH . STARS 5 3 ..
UNICORN).’ It hay he that the pictures were or&inally [ewe;
in number (48 is deficientin some details) : if so, we need not
regret the insertions.
Duhm hints a doubt respectin the raven-stanza (384r), and
adopts Wright’s conjecture (>ly$ ‘for the evening’); cp 1 0 6
and SOL52, n. 4. This can hardly be right. More probably
3 1 ~ 5is a corruption of 3 ~ 1 5‘for
, the wolf.‘ The lion and the
wolf are naturally mentioned together.
Our survey of Job would be most imperfect if we did
not mention here at least the principal interpolations
(cp especially Bickeli and Duhm).
ll. Chief ( I ) The poems of which 241-24 is
composed are as follows :-[u) vv. 1-4,
a fragment on the merciless rapacity of the’wicked.
Details of this sort are not characteristic of Job. T h e
other poems spoken of being in tristichs, it is probable
that (a)was also written in this form. The text, how-
ever, is in a bad condition.
For v. I 48 only gives 6 ~ d7; Sk K ~ ~ P L ZAa80v
O V ;pa&, omitting
&(the text was alreadycorrupted,asin iKT)fordogmatic reasons;
v. 2, which is also omitted, was apparently unintelligible. In
fact, D‘FY and l’?; are obscure. Duhm’s restoration of the
imperfect tristich in v. I is not quite natural, and he has to
change la- into 1n)’. It is better to emend in such a way as to
suit the sequel. ‘lwn should probably he pya?; for the rest
see Crit. Bib. The sense which we obtain is,
Why do the wicked prosper?
They grind the face of the destitute;
Bad men oppress the poor.
(a) Verses 5J (76?) 8 IO 12, adescription of anoppressed,
pariah race. This should be taken with 302-8, which
contains the sequel. Text very bad; compare or
contrast 6.
(c) Verses 13-18a(??), a sketch of the ‘rebels(?)
against the light ‘-murderers, thieves, etc.
( d ) Verses (186(?)-24, a fragment on the end of
tyrants. Text very bad.
( 2 ) 302-8, more on the unhappy pariahs and tro-
glodytes; one could almost fancy that it came from
the oration of a democratic leader (cp 16).l
( 3 ) 281-27. N o earthly treasures lie too deep for
human industry, but Wisdom is with God alone. By
Wisdom the writer means the Reason which originated
and pervades the phenomena of the world (cp Prov. 8).
T h e poem cannot have been written to stand where it
does, for it is altogether in a different style, full of
imagery, and too rich for the deep but simple idea
which it is meant to convey ; it contains no allusion
whatever to Job’s problem.2 An editor of the Collo-
quies, however, seems to have thought that it might
fitly be introduced (cp Job 115-12), because Job, as a
censor of the government of the world, had virtually
questioned the existence of the Divine Wisdom (a
different view of Wisdom). According to this humble-
minded person all speculation was wrong,3 and he
pleased himself with making Job anticipate his re-
tractation in 404f. Verse 28 comes from his pen,
unless, as the warning Pasek after ’ 1 ~ ~ 7 may ) perhaps
suggest, the interpolated verse is no longer in its
original form, in which case we must be cautions how+
far we accuse the interpolator of narrowness of mind ;
it may have been a later scribe who made the best
substitute he could for an indistinctly written passage.
It is the distinction of Duhm to have cleared up the exegetical
problem of the opening word (‘?, ‘for’). Verse 7 is usually
supposed to take up what is said in v. 6 . the ‘ path’ is the way
to the place of ‘sapphires ’(?). But it is! much more natural to
suppose that the words ‘(But) whence doth wisdom come,’ etc.,
which now appear oniy in v. 1 2 4 and v. 20, originally stood
before z). 7, and if the refrain was forgotten there,5 we may
reasonably explain the ‘for’ in v. I as referring to the same
refrain, which would therefore seem to have opened each of the
1 For a seemingly important emendation of the text of vv. 3x,
see PURSLAIN.
2 So Studer Che. (106 and Sol. 4 0 J ) Du Laue. On the
other side see billmann, Budde, and K&g (k;nl.414).
3 SeeJew. Rel. LVe, 153.
4 In v. 12 Nap! has evidently intruded from v. 13.
5 As was the case in Pss. 46 and 49.
2482
 JOB (BOOK)
four stanzas of the poem.1 Into the complicated controversy
which has arisen out of this little word ‘for,’ it is needless to
enter. Budde adheres to the ingenious but unnatural theory
which he proposed in Z A T W , 2 193-274 (‘82). he has not
however, convinced Smeiid (Ael.-gesc/z.PJ, 476), &ho still hold;
to Wellh.’s view (Bleek‘s EliLLP), 5 4 o J ) that 27 7.28 27 is of
late origin.2
281-27, when restored to its original strophic form,
is a beautiful specimen of Hebrew poetry. The cor-
ruptions of the text are not incurable (see, besides the
conimentaries of Budde and Duhm, the articles G OLD,
L ION, MINING, SAPPHIRE, TOPAZ). The naYve delight
which the author takes in his knowledge of mining and
of gems (cp Dante) is communicated to the reader.
(4)3913-18. See OSTRICH.
(5) 4015-24 419-11 ( 1 2 , ) 41 1-8 13-24. The description
of two mythical monsterscalled Behemothand Leviathan;
the old mythological tradition having become pale, the
poet fills up the gaps in his supposed knowledge from
what he had seen or heard of the two Nile monsters-
the hippopotamus and the crocodile (see BEHEMOTH AND
L EVIATHAN , HIPPOPOTAMUS). If Job was really G o d s
equal, he could of course bring even these wondrous
creatures into subjection. The seeming hyperboles in
the descriptions are partly due to corruption of the text.
Thus in 4017 ‘tail’ and ‘cedar’ in 4131 ‘pot of ointment,’
and in 41 32 the hoary’ sea shduld disappear. In 40 17 we
should perhaps read ‘he cleaveth reeds as with shears; the
sinews of his neck are intertwined’ :Y in 41 216. ‘he maketh the
I.
sea like a caldron,’4 and in 32 ‘ihe hott&n’of the sea is his
path; the dark places of the sea are his road.’5 For other
critical emendations, see HOOK, J O R D AN , SOUL, and of course
such writers as Budde, Duhm, Gunkel, and Beer should be
consulted. Budde and Duhm, however, start with an incorrect
theory as to the meaning of the names Behemoth and Leviathan.
That the passages which we have been considering
really are interpolations, can hardly be questioned
except on the ground of an a priori assumption of the
unity of the hook. They are interpolations because
their insertion in the Book of Job has involved inter-
ference with the form of the context, except where, as
in the case of chap. 28 (see v. 28). the interference was
confined to the inserted poem itself, and, even when
beautiful in themselves, they mar the effect of the true
poem of Job.
The Speeches of Elihu are somewhat differently
circumstanced. It seems best to call them (with G.
12. Elihn Hoffmann) a supplement to the original
section poem, rather than an interpolation. Their
insertion (if they were inserted) has in-
volved taking no liberty, either with the
text of the speeches themselves, or with that of the
Colloquies of Job and his three friends, and some
writers6 think that they give the best solution of Job’s
problem that was, from the point of view of the Hebrew
Wisdom, possible, and that without them the Speeches
of Yahwe would be liable to the charge of using force
towards Job instead of argument. This charge, how-
ever, would be valid only if the Speeches of Yahw&
belong to the author or authors of the Colloquies. For
certainly the Speeches of YahwB, noble as they are in
themselves, are not such as were adapted to impress
the supposed auditor (see, e.g., 233-7). As to the high
estimate of the Elihu Speeches in the writers referred to,
it may be enough to say that (in spite of Elihu‘s asser-
tion in 32146) there is hardly any argument in the Elihu
section which cannot he found in the Speeches of the
Friends, while the description of God‘s incomprehensible
greatness in 3613-3724 appears like an inferior copy of
1 Each stanza consists of four tetrastichs or quatrains.
a Giesebrecht (Dry Welzde$unht des B. H i d , ’79) adopts a
point of view akin to that of Budde.
3 Read l$p? 2411, and in I , \?? for 11nP. See
Cytt. Eib.
4 Read 71lN?? 0%; 0;.
5 Read V?*$ . \YF?
. . dr;lm . ’Z@flp . lk:. V,?lg
. (see @, and cp
Am. 9 3).
6 Among older scholars Stickel (‘42), and among recent
writers Budde, Cornill, and Wildehoer may he specially
mentioned.
2483
JOB (BOOK)
the Speeches of YahwB. The admiration expressed by
some critics for the teaching of Elihu is certainly much
exaggerated, and would not have been shared by the
poet of the Colloquies, who rejects the doctrine of the
Friends. Not to speak now of the poverty of the style,
it may truly be said that the speaker or writer thinks
far too much of his minute advances in religious theory.
The only excuse for him is his marvellous naYvet6. Here
is one of his self-assertive utterances :-
I will fetch my knowledge from far,
And will see justice done to my Maker,
For truly my words are no lies
One perfect in knowledge is bifore thee (3B 3J).
What a n over-estimate of his originality ! Elihu’s
favourite theory of the disciplinary character of suffering
(3314-30 368-25) was fully stated by Eliphaz at the
outset ( 5 8 8 1 7 8 ) . If he ceases to advocate it, it is
because Job will not allow that it applies to his case.
There is only one section in which Elihu may claim
some originality. He says (3314) that God speaks to
sinners in two ways ; first, by alarming them with
dreams (vu. 15-18), and next by sending them sicknesses
which would have a fatal issue but fot the intervention
of a friendly angel (vv. 19-28). The central stanza of the
former passage (3315f:) should run thus :-
By a dream a vision of the night,
In slumberings upon the bed,
He opens the ears of men
And makes their flesh to iremble.1
Here Elihn differs from Eliphaz his model by making
the dream (see v. 17) a means of ‘ withholding a man
from injustice ’ ( & h y ~ , v. 17. Biek., Du., after 48). The
most important part of the second passage (3322-25) is
very incorrectly given in MT, though the interpretation
given to M T by critics (cp P ARACLETE ) does not
seriously misrepresent the mind of the wrjter. Most
probably we should read as follows :-
And his soul draws near to the pit,
And his life to the dark world,
Unless an angel redeem him,
One who rescues man from Abaddon,
* * L * * *
And he be gracious to him, and say, ‘ Let him go ;
I have found the ransom of his soul ;
Let his flesh swell with youthful strength,
Let him return to the days of his youth.’a
Here Elihu ventures on a virtual contradiction of
Eliphaz who (v. I ) denies that ‘ holy ones,‘ L e . , angels,
can help a man struck by deadly sickness. He
positively asserts that when a sick man seems near
his end, one of those angels whom God commissions,
not to lie in wait (like the Satan) for the tripping of the
righteous, hut to prevent the chastisement of penitent
sinners from going too far, rescues him from the
destroying angel who has already grasped him. The
‘ransom ’ spoken of is probably the prayer of penitent
confession (vv. 26-28). The angelology of ‘ Elihu’ is
1 MT, obscurely, ! h
O DRb71,-i.e., ‘and seals their disci-
pline’ (or, ‘their bond’). @, Aq., Pesh. (Bick., G. Hoffm.,
Bu., Beer, Du.), Oi?n;, ‘terrifies.’ For O l D D Du., Beer sug-
gest P@$,‘terrors’(@, ;v s?rScmv 46pov T O L O ~ T O W ) . But this
leaves metre and parallelism imperfect. A close inspection
reveals leg; o??? hnsp (see 4 14J ; Ps.119 120). Writing
the letters of M T continuously, one sees how the error arose.
2 In 1. z for P’npth, ‘to the destroying(angels?),’which is not
properly I/ to n&, ‘to the pit,’ read n?n\?in!; @ Ev $ 8 ~
O’?Q gives one beat more, but has no other recommenda-
tion. In 1. 3 read & ??ti$?! i(l-DN. Note the Pasek after
lhy. In 1. 4 read ]\’1)t$ Old h e : O l k l was perhaps still in
the text when the gloss ’121 l*~;lS was inserted. i i i x n , hy a
little transposition and corruption, became I>$ ’?n. Bu. omits
r,5e’j” 1nN ,&as agloss, which isunjustifiable. In 1. 5 read
13gls(so some MSS) with Bsttch., Wright, Gra., Hofim.
Bu.:’Du., Beer. In I. 6 insert \W?!; Bick.(l),Bu., Du. In
I. 7 read ~ B C ) ’ ;Hoffm., Bi., Bu., Du.
2484
 JOB (BOOK)
therefore more developed than that of the Colloquies
(cp Job and SOL 44J).
We have on the one hand an angel of Death and on the
other an angelic redeemer. Whatever may have bien popularly
believed a t an earlier date it is only a late poet (later it would
seem than those who ga$e the tone to the Psalter i n d later
also ihan the poem of Job) who could have autioritatively
sanctioned this belief. Elihu's minute reproductions of sayings
of Job (see 338f: 345J 35zJ) also point to an author who had
the book before him as a whole so far as it was then extant.
What he gives us is a reasserdon of the doctrine of earthly
retribution in what seemed to him a n improved form, and he
gives this reassertion greater force by leading the reader to
suppose that Job was silenced by it, and that Yahw& tacitly
approved it.
( u ) Lazguuge.-That there are many points of
contact between Elihu and the Colloquies is not
denied (cp Bu., Beifr. 92-123) ; but there
13*sty1e Of are also many words (e.&, y?) and phrases
Elihu
speeches. peculiar to ' Elihu' (ib. 124-146),which
would hardly have been the case if ' Elihu '
were written by the author of the Colloquies, considering
that the circle of ideas in ' Elihu' is not very different from
that in the Colloquies. It may of course be answered
that an interval of some duration separates the com-
position of the two sections, so that we are ultimately
thrown back on the question whether it is likely that
the same writer would have worked up the old material
again with the object of restating old solutions of Job's
problem. A good deal has been said on the larger
number of Aramaisms in ' Elihu ' as compared with the
Colloquies, and, as the text now stands, not without
reason. But the text of ' Elihu' is in urgent need of
critical emendation (.g.,fij21 in Job376 is certainly
wrong).' So far as the present writer can see, how-
.ever, the legitimate emendations of the text of ' Elihu '
,do not raise the Speeches of Elihu to the same plane of
literary excellence as the Speeches of Job and his Friends
(upon which, be it remembered, the same beneficent art
.of critical emendation has also to be practised). Budde,
it is true, is of an opposite opinion. By the removal of
corruptions and interpolations he thinks that the linguistic
.argument against the so-called ' genuineness ' of the
Elihu-section has lost its basis, and that both the form
.and the contents of the speeches can now be much
.better appreciated (Hiob, Einl., p. XX). T o criticise
this statement adequately would require too much
space. The present writer has no disinclination to
.join in the effort to relieve Elihu's speeches from some
of the rust which has gathered about them; but he
feels sure that no restoration can make the picture a
masterpiece (cp Driver, Zntr.(E),429).
(6).Non-mention in Prologue and E$iZope.-There
.certainly ought to have been a condemnation of Elihu
in the Epilogue ; the non-mention of him in the Prologue
we can perhaps pass over. It is absurd to speak of the
.harmony (?) between the Speeches of Elihu and those
of Yahwi: as sufficiently indicating YahwB's approval of
his youthful advocate (Stickel). Almost more reasonable
is the statement in the Testament of Jo6 ( a Greek Jewish
Midrash), 'And after he (Elihu) had ended, God
appeared to me (Job) in a storm and in clouds, and
spoke, blaming Elihu, and showing me that he who
had spoken was not a man but a wild beast.'2 I t
would, indeed, have been inhuman to harass a sufferer
like Job with such feeble commonplaces 1
The recognition of the fact that the Book of Job, like
Homer and like the Sagas, has grown together by the
14. Date. combination of different elements, has an
important bearing on the date of the Book.
'The phrase ' the Book of Job ' may have two meanings :
( I ) the original Book of Job, so far as it is extant
. ( 1 1 - 2 ~ 3 ;427-17). and (2) the Book of Job with the
latest inserted passages. The date of the Book, in the
second sense, will be that of the latest insertion ; in the
first sense.it will be that of the writing of the Prologue
1 Perles, 7Ql;; Siegfr., Bu., ??l.
K6hler, 'The Testament of Jof~,' Kohut Memorid, 333.
2485
J O B (BOOK)
and Epilogue. The latter date can easily be determined.
A prominent supernatural personage in the celestial
court is called ' the Satan ' ( ' adversary,' ' accuser ').
The same personage appears in his character of ' accuser '
before Yahwh in Zech. 3, and it can readily be shown
(see S ATAN ) that the conception of the Satan is more
developed in Job1 and 2 than in Zech. 3.' Now the
date of Zech. 3 is 519 B.c. ; the first Book of Job is
therefore later than 519 B.c. It is no objection to this
date: ( u ) that the picture of the life of Job in the
Prologue is in harmony with the old patriarchal stories,
or (6) that the author shows himself to be a gifted
narrator. The Book of Ruth shows that there were
highly gifted narrators in the later times, and such a
writer could easily imitate the patriarchal stories. I f
the k.?if&ih( E V piece of money) in 4211 is really copied
from Gen. 33 19, the writer of the original Job was only
too faithful an imitator, for &%@h is probablya corrup-
tion of a much more intelligible and historical phrase
(see KESITAH). The mention of the Chaldeans (1 17) as
marauders has been thought to point to the period before
Nabopolassar aLd Nebuchadrezzar. But ' Chaldeans'
should probably be ' Cushites' (see CUSH, § 2, I) ; the
' Cushites ' and 'Sabeans' of antiquity were remembered
by a late tradition (cp z Ch. 149).
The date of the Prologue and Epilogue is marked
(I) by the double restoration of Job's poperty (4212;
v. 106 may be a gloss),2which corresponds to a standing
feature in the descriptions of glorified Israel (see Is. 61 7,
Zech. 912, Jer. 1614-18), and ( 2 ) still more by the
parallelism between the story of Job's calamity and
restored prosperity and the figurative description of
the vicissitudes of the Servant of Yahwi: in Is. 5213-5312. ,
The latter point requires some elucidation. Is. 53 3
46 7 are like a poetic description of the ' stroke ' of Job's
sickness, of the horror of his neighbours, and of his own
pious resignation ; G. Hoffn~anndeserves special credit
for pointing out the analogy of the metaphorical sickness
of the Servant to the actual sickness of Job. It appears
likely that Job, who in the Prologue and the Epilogue is a
type of Israel, partly suggested the figurative description
of the ' Servant of .Yahw&'-the personification of the
company of pious Israelites in the age inaugurated by
Ezra which regarded itself as the true, spiritual Israel.
' Reflecting on the causeof Job's misery, the writer (of Is.
53) came to the conclusion that God must have appointed
this for the good of those who, unlike Job, were trans-
gressors (cp 428), and that J o b s consciousness of this
must have helped him to bear his sufferings uncom-
plainingly.'a And taking Job fo be a type of Israel,
he became assured that true Israelites, who bore the
sufferingsbrought upon them through the great national
calamity as uncomplainingly as Job ( i . e . , the Job of the
original Book), would like him be the means of salvation
to others, and would thus, like him, demonstrate the
possibility of disinterested piety. It must surely be
admitted that the two writers (of the original Job and of
the ' Servant ' passages) belonged to the same period,
and if so it is probable that they lived subsequently to
the introduction of Ezra's lawbook, for this is the period
to which the passages on the Servant of Yahwi: may
most plausibly beassigned (see S ERVANT OF THE LORD).
It is, however, not quite impossible to give both Is. 53
and the original Book of Job a somewhat earlier date,
viz., somewhere about 500 B. C . , which is the date to
which G. Hoffmann, Hio6, 34, assigns the 'genuine
Book of Job.'
I t is impossible to estimate with precision the amount of lin-
guistic evidence for the late date of Prologue, Epilogue, and
Colloquies, owing to the frequent nncertain[y of the text. For
instance, the first three words cited by Dillmann (p. xxxi) as
Aramaic probably do not belong to the true text of the Colloquies.
1 This is of importance. Dillmann asserts, 'In Zech. (1 104
3 ~ f 6:5 ) the Prologue of Job is already used and imitated
(Hioh, Einl. p. xxxvi). See, however, Nowack, Kl. Pr. 325.
a But see Budde's note.
8 Jew. RrL L f e , 162.
2486
 J O B (BOOK)
1); in 16 15 and lh in 31 33 are corrupt; and 15 r7J, which
contains ”fl (a favourite word of Elihu), is a wretched distich,
which has 110 place in this fine poem; ’nine, a doubly
Aramaic form, also occurs in an interpolated distich (1317;
see Bick., Dn.). lp, which Beer (p. 83) and Nestle
(ZATW20 172 [1900l) rightly claim as an Aram. word for
bm6r (so e), ‘ skin-bottle,’ is found again in an inserted dis-
tich (1328; see Du.); ’??@, ‘my witness,’ 1 6 r g and ”!?$
in 2613 (see RAHAB) are corrupt. There are, however, nn-
doubted Aramaisms, such as p? (522), 55; (Sz), with
plural D.!? and j$’p (626 1 2 1 1 1317, and often), :1 (1327),
Dpp (168 [?I, 22 16), and 7;y (8 7 T I 1223).
Dillmann accounts for these partly as dialectal peculiarities
partly as arising from a rhythmic need of variety; hut the forme;
explanationcannot safelybepressed. Aswords, orsenses ofwords
characteristic of later Hebrew (7th or 6th century) he mention;
(a) 5:?, 2 I O ; (6) 11; ‘ t o determine’(22& an Aramaic usage.
But Dillmann’s note on 22 28 is most unsatisfactory ; he is com-
pelled to take the next word l e k to mean ‘ a thing’-a purely
imaginary meaning, though one commentator after another re-
affirms it. The passage is corrupt ; 1nNmni comes from
(continue W ) ; the line is copied from 11 17 (on
which see Ex). T 10 381f: [‘99]); it occurs in the late appendage
t o the third speech of Eliphaz; (c) 725 [Arani.], 1420 1624;
(4a;tJ, 1 3 (a doubtful passage).l (e) 1’
hand),’ Gg. Here again the text is corrup
more confidence than in 73. Read ’!q>’! *j lny:, ‘that he
would grant my prayer and shatter me.’ (f)3772, ‘tyrant,:
21 28, as in Is. 13 2. The change from ‘ liberal, noble ’ to tyrant
is not probable (contrast Is. 32 5), and it is better to emend to
liq in both passages. (g)pn, ‘interest,’212r 223. (h) ll?,
1 0 22. t But S h e d was certainly not O*!?D-d\, ‘disorderly’ ;
’0NI) is based on a miswritten form of n1nh.S (i) l?+?,
‘branches’(149, etc.). (j)D’?Yk, 4 13 202 (doubtful passages).
(k) n?u$S, 21 6. (0 n h , 2610. (m)@p, 21 34. Dillmann
also mentions the use of 5 for the accusative, and the occasional
use of the plural in I?-. H e might have added that the relative
V only occurs once in the M T of the Colloquies (192963); it
is found, however, in Lam. 2 4f: (see LAMENTATIONS).
On the whole, Dillmann has not been able to indicate many
distinctly late Hebrew words in the Colloquies ; rare words
only to be explained from the Arabic, need not necessarily b;
late, though the possibility of the late adoption of Arabic words
in literary Hebrew cannot be denied.4 I t would seem that if the
writer is of late date (and the other arguments go far to prove
that he is so) he took pains to cultivate a classic Hebrew style
and his success shows that the facilities for writing such Hebred
were great ; there was probably a regular school for the practice
of classic Hebrew writing. The falling off in the Hebrew of
Ben Sira is very noticeable.
To place the Book of Job-whether in a larger or a
narrower sense-in the age of Jeremiah (Dill., Konig),
or more precisely not long before the siege of Jerusalem,
is becoming more and more difficult. It is true, the
death of Josiah, and the sad events which rapidly
followed, must have prompted the question, ‘ Wherefore
doth the way of the wicked prosper’ (Jer. 12 T ; cp Job
21 7 ) ? Moreover, we actually find Jeremiah (2014-18)
cursing the day on which he was born. It is true, both
passages are liable to grave suspicion, and may without
arbitrariness he regarded as ‘ secondary’ ; even Dillmann
questions 20 14-18. But even accepting provisionally
Jeremiah‘s authorship of both passages, we cannot
draw any critical inference from this. Poetry like that
of Job and the Psalms represents, not the scanty band
of a prophet’s disciples, but that large section of the
community which had a t length absorbed Jeremiah’s
1 The parallelism is bad, and the distich does not fit in with
the context. h 1313 is a corruption of ?Jig.
2 The scribe may have collected the singular combination of
corrupt variants in v. 22 from different manuscripts.
3 See Konig (EirrZ. 417), who, with Dillmann, reads ’7V.
Probablv. the Dassaae is elossatorial. See also Konia on the
~ ~ I _
variation of usage in Job between and ’>?~j.
4 Ihn Ezra (on Job 2 IT) expresses the opinion that the Book
of rob is a translation. I n his Li6ev /obi (1737) Schnltens
describes the language as Hebrzo-Arabic, and says that it
expresses the true genius of Arabic. This is in every way an
exaggeration.
2487
JOB (BOOK)
ideas. The probability, therefore, is that the poems
which contain parallels to passages plausibly ascribed to
Jeremiah were written a good while after that prophet’s
age. It is true the language of Job is so vigorous and,
comparatively speaking, so pure (especially when a
methodical textual criticism has been applied) that
apart from other considerations one’s first impulse might
be to place such a book rather early. But nwy early it
is impossible to place it, and a time of rapid national
decline, like that of Jeremiah, is really less suitable for
the composition of such a fine work than any moderately
quiet part of the Persian period. As a compromise we
might of course refer the work to the exilic period (see
Davidson,’~.lxvii ; Che. Job andSoZ. 74). But when we
take the ideas of the book into consideration, we see
that it is best understood as the provisional summing
up of a long period of meditation under the combination
of special influences which existed in the post-exilic age
and at no other period.
How much later the existing Colloquies were sub-
stituted for the original Colloquies or Colloquy, is of
course uncertain. The former imply a heightened
interest in the problem of suffering. The wise men tell
Job that he must have been a great sinner to have been
overtaken by such a calamity. So in Is. 6317 we find
the Jewish community asking why Yahwe bad caused
the Jews to err from his ways, and hardened their hearts
so as not to fear him? The company of faithful Jews
(=the Servant of Yahu-8) could not remember any
transgressions sufficient to account for the recent aggra-
vation of their misery. They were ‘ those who worked
righteousness and remembered the ways that God would
have’ (Is. 6 4 5 ~ ;) yet they were compelled to suppose
that Israel had somehow broken faith, and become
guilty in the eyes of God, so that all their righteous
deeds (which they could no more disown than Job could
disown his righteousness) were as a filthy garment (Is.
645 r4] J ) , and consequently they had to bear the
weight of God‘s unaccountable anger. This is analogous
to what the three Friends would have had Job say, and
what he stoutly refused to say; there is nothing to
compare with it in the section consisting of Is. 40-55
(see-4027 49 14).
The later we bring down the date of the Colloquies
the better we can understand not only the atmosphere
of political and social unrest (see, e.g., ’71) which seems
to pervade them (cp 1217-25, 14rJ). but also the wide
intellectual interests of the author. Even if we restrict
our view to Job 3-19, the extent of those interests is very
striking ; the earlier writer apparently had it in him to
say nearly all the best that his successors have said.
Apart from their particular controversy, both Job and
the Friends state much that is admirable respecting God
and human nature, and show an interest in the world
of nature which can only be paralleled to some extent
in the second part of Isaiah. The angelology and
mythological allusions, too, indicate a remarkable
freedom from religious scruple, such as we know to
have characterised the later period.2 Nor must we
omit to pay homage to the purity and inwardness of the
morality of Job’s great self-justification (chap. 31). H e
may seem to be self-righteous ; but this is only due to
the predominance of the conception of God as a Judge.
He knows equally well with the Friends that essential
purity belongs to God alone, though the passage which
distinctly expresses this truth ( 1 4 4 ) is plainly an inter-
p ~ l a t i o n . ~Job has never really fallen away from God.
Nor are the authors of the Colloquies sceptics except as
regards an antiquated orthodoxy. They are no doubt
1 I n EB(9)Professor Davidson places the Book ‘somewhere in
the troubled period ’ between the early part of the seventh and
the fifth centuries.
2 See Job aled SOL 7 9 8 ; OPs. 270; and cp Budde, Hiob,
Einl. 44f:
3 I t interrupts the connection. Rudde keeps th?‘ passage in
the text, hut in the note inclines to regard it as an lnterpolation
(so Bick., Beer).
2488
 JOB (BOOK)
in a sense cosmopolitans. Either by hearsay or by
travel (cp 6 19 21 29) they have some real acquaintance
with the world outside Judza. But to all that, from a
modern Christian point of view, is fundamental in the
Jewish religion Job is as loyal as Ezra himself. And
what can be more truly prophetic than Job's appeal to
God's love against his undiscriminating wrath? All
this can hardly have been written much before the close
of the Persian peri0d.l
The Speeches of YahwB (38-42 6) belong to a poet of
the same school as the poem on the Divine Wisdom
(28 1-27) ; they are, however, of somewhat earlier date
than that fine poem, which contains one line borrowed
from the Speeches (0.266 ; cp 38 256). The writer's in-
terest in the problem of suffering is but slight. Nor does des B. Hiod-two parts ('95, '98). On the Peshitta,
philosophical speculation attract him : he is an observer
-a poetic observer-of nature. Chap. 28 has special
.affinitieswith the eulogies of wisdom in Prov. 3 13-20 and (:92),andE. Baumann, Z A T W I 8 3 0 5 3 ( ' 9 8 ) , 1 9 2 8 8 8
822-31. The happy tone, the interest in nature, and
in the case of chap. 28 (and parallels) the tendency to
hypostatize Wisdom, suggest the bringing down of all
these works to the period of widened outlook and
greater freedom from anxiety at the beginning of the
Greek rule. W e need not, however, on this account
identify nnm, ' wisdom,' with the Xlyos or the voOs ~ o q -
7 ~ 6 ;s indeed, such a view would oblige us, with Duhm,
to bring down Prov. 8 22-31 and Job28 to the third
century B.C. The Zoroastrian conception of the two-
fold wisdom2 (heavenly and earthly) is old enough to
have influenced the Jews : Persian (and Babylonian)
influences continued to be felt long after the fall of the
Persian Empire.
The various conflicting theories which have been
offered as to the DurDose of the book will now be seen
15. Growth and to proceed from a false assumption.
The book of Job has no literary
object ofJob. unitv. and cannot have had a DUT-
pose. It has grown; it has not been made. T h e
different parts of the book, however, had their purpose,
which must be sought for by an exegesis unfettered by
a priori theories. The earliest writer wished to suggest
that righteous Israel's sufferings were an honour, because chap. 29, not included in the posthumous Ewzendationes. G .
they showed that Israel's service of God was disinterested. Hoffmann Hioh ('91). cp Cheyne Crtf. Rev.1 250.259 ('91).
The next writer simply gave expression to the conflict-
ing thoughts of his time on the great problem of suffer-
i n g ; he himself had no definite solution to give. A
third writer could only offer the anodyne of the poetic
imaginative observation of the wonders of nature.
A fourth sought to undo the work of his predecessors
by restating a theory which had not, he thought, been
adequately represented before. The present book
is heterogeneous and amorphous ; it gives us, however,
a picture of Jewish religious life and thongbt which is of be used 617 Siegfried. J. l e y , 'Die metrische Beschaffenheit des
priceless value. For a subtle and interesting attempt to
commend a very different view see $ 4 of the Introduc-
tion to Budde's comnientary.
The genuine Septuagint text has been practically
recovered from the Sahidic Version (CoDtic of UoDer
Egypt) of Job ptbli'shed by"P.
Versions' Agostino Ciasca in 1889; 39 96-407
is the only lacuna, It is shorter than the Hebrew
text by nearly 400 stichi. Origen in his Hexapla
supplied its deficiencies from Theodotion, mark-
i n g the insertions by asterisks, and there are still five impossible to interpret before the reawakenmg of linguistic know-
MSS which give Origen's marks more or l ~ s scom-
pletely (see Hatch, Bssays on BibZicaZ Greek, 216).
Hatch in 1889 accepted the shorter Septuagint form as
that of the original Book of Job, and Bickell (1892-
1894), whenever his metrical theory will allow it, follows cent and thorough kttempt to Lpply the key of Arabic philology
the Greek.3 Dillmann, however, in the Transactions of
the Royal Prussian Academy (Textkritisches zum B.
1 See Kleinert. 'Das snezifisch.hehriische im B. Hiob,'St. KY..
'86.
2
.2908
gee Ex$ositor, '9s a , p. 79 ; cp PERSIA (Religion).
3 See r7a. For Bickell's earlier view of a,see his ,De
JOB (BOOK)
Ijo6, 'go) has subjected Hatch's arguments to a de-
tailed consideration, and has shown that, except in a
few cases, the omissions were arbitrarily made by the
Greek translator, or, as we might almost better call
him, paraphrast. This does not, of course, exclude the
possibility that some of the omissions may he justifiable
on grounds of internal criticism, and that the translator
may have been partly guided by warning signs (Paseks)
in the Hebrew text indicating the non-originality of
certain passages, some of which signs may easily have
become misplaced. See further Budde, Hiob, Einl.
xlviiij? ; Beer, 'Textkritische Studien zum B. Job,'
Z A T W 1 6 2 9 7 8 (,'96), 1797&,('97), 1 8 2 5 7 8 , ('98).
Beer's work deals with all the versions ; see also his Text
see A. Mandl, Die Peschittha zu Hioh, nebst einem.
Anhang iib. ihi-er Verhaltniss ZUY LXX u. Taqunz
( 99), 2 0 1 7 7 8 (1900). See also W. Bacher, ' D a s
Targ. zu Hiob,' M G W J 20 208-223 ('71), and H. Gratz,
' Das Zeitalter der griech. Uebersetz. des B.H., ' M G CVJ
2683-91 ('77).
(a) Text.-Now that the study of the textual criticism of Job
is entering on a new stage we must not onlit to trace its earlier
hiskory.' These are the chief names. C. F.
17. Literature. Houbigant (priest of the aratory), Note
Critice in uiziuersos V T lidros 2 I C G - Z I ~
(1777). A hundred years later A. Merx Das Gcdichz-uon
e 6 (1871), reviewed unfavourLbly by E v h d , GG-4, Nov. 29
77, hut gratefully by H. Schultz, 3DT 16 ('TI)]. The import!
ance of the hook lies in its treatment of the text, especially
in its attempt at a methodical use of the versions, not so much
in its use of a theory of strophes to discover interpolations or
lacunae. P. de Lagarde, Pro$hefc? Chaln'aice, see pp., If:
('72). G. Bickell, Carminu V T matrice, 150.187 ('82), giving
the text of Job arranged according to his metrical theory, marks
a step forward; cp Flunk in Z K I ' , '8q.p. 3 4 0 8 , G. H.Bateson
Wright, The Book o f l o b , a new critzcaZL9 revised translation
with essays on scansion, date, efc. ('intended to follow in th;
wake of the critical edition of A. Merx'), a pioneering work,
produced at Ilong Kong, with easily explained defects, a n d
strange indications of a critical tendency almost new among
students of the text of Job (cp Bndde, TLZ, une 14, '84;
Cheyne 106 and Solomon, 113 ;3QX 9 574, ['971j. H.Gratz,
MGW13G ('87), in a review of Cheyne's Job and Solomon,
which contains a conspectus of Gratz's emendations as far as
Bickell ' b e r ursprunil. Sept.-tex; des B. Job ' Z K f ; '86, p.
5 5 7 8 ' Krit. Bearbeitung des Job-dialogs,: &ZKM, '92, pp.
137 X z p 1 8 327 8.: '93> pp. 1 f / F 1 s 8: 94, P. 121 : of the
highest importance in spite of its too frequent arbitrariness,
which is subjected to good-natured banter by Budde. Perhaps
however, Budde would have improved his own work by adoptin;
more from Bickell. The theory that the poetical portions (except
the eight-line speech of Yahwi: and certain passages in tristichs)
are composed in four-line strophes cannot he said to have been
overthrown by Budde. On Bickell's view of the original Septu-
agint, see C. Siegfried 'Job' in SBOT (Heb.), '93 ; cp. R.
Gottheil / O X 7 5 5 7 . 3 (' 4). Bickell's work was not in time to
B.H.' St.Kr. ' 5, pp. 635-692, and later essays in St.Kr. '99.
G. Beer ('05.~987. Budde ('96); Duhm ('97); see below. Perles
+nal&&('g5). ' Cheyne, ' The Text of Job,'JQR 9 5 7 3 8 ('97);
More Critical Gleanings from Job,' Ex$. T 10 353 Iy:('99), and
many scattered notes in 3QR,Ex$. T, Crit. Bid., and the
present work.
(1.) Metre.-J. Ley, as above. Paul Vetter, Die Mefrik des
B. 106 (97). See also Bickell, Budde, Duhm, and cp POETICAL
LITERATURE $8.
(c) Com&faries and Translations.-For orientation in the
work of the earlier exegesis, see Del.'s indispensable work on
Job, Introduction, 5 IO, 'History of Exegesis ; cp Diestel,
&.ddm . A T in d ~ chr&+Z.
r Kirchc. KO other book was so
ledge as that of Job. I n the 16th century Mercerus (1573) both
for Job and for the 'Solomonic' writings did work of some
permanent value. The famous passage, Job 19 25, he explains of
Job's hope of a public recognition of his innocence by God in
his lifetime. The first strictly philological commentary IS that
of Albert Schultens LiberJodi 2 vols. Leyden, 1737-a magnifi-
to problems which were often only created by corruption of the
text. Elizabeth Smith (d.1805), translation, 'IO. S. Lee, '37.
H. Ewald, L'ichter des A l f e n BundesN, 3 ('54); cp Cheyne,
Renan L> Lz'vr~de Job, '59. ' F
DillmLnn, in KGH, '60.'01(valuable).
A. Elzas,'72(Jewish) ~ ~ ~ ~~ II I "

&dole ac ratione Versionis A Zcxandrinr in interpretando h6ro Hitzig, '74. J. C. Matthes, part i7 'jk~philologicalcommentary;
gb1.i ('63). excellent). G. L. Studer, Das B.H. fGrgeistliche 94. gedila'efe
PO 2489 2490