William R. Millar
Linfield College, McMinnville OR
[This is the Introduction and
Chapter One of a manuscript being prepared with Chalice Press offered for
discussion at the Biblical Hermeneutics and Beyond Task Force of the August
2001 CBA Meeting.]
INTRODUCTION
Most of us have a copy of the Bible
in our homes. And many of us would agree with the claim that the Bible
is a reliable handbook for the spiritual life. In fact, that may be why
we have a copy of our own. And yet, many would also agree that, except
perhaps for a few favorite passages here and there, the Bible remains an
extremely under-utilized resource for our own spiritual journeys. One of
the modest goals of this book is to add a few more favorite passages to
the list.
Our primary agenda is to journey
into those more under-utilized regions in the Hebrew Bible: in this instance,
to meet some of the priests of Ancient Israel, and to walk with them for
awhile along their spiritual pathway. We will discover that these priests
of old have something to teach us about our spiritual life. And the surprise
will be that the issues they dealt with sound strikingly familiar to the
life-issues we deal with today: what is the relationship between religion
and politics; how does one discern the activity of God in daily happenings;
is it possible to construct a spiritual pathway that works for us in the
wilderness experiences of life when we are faced with what feels more like
the absence of God? A big question voiced by Solomon in the book of Chronicles
is, "Does God really dwell with man on earth? Even the heavens to their
uttermost reaches cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have
built!" (2 Chron. 6:18).(1)
Still, you may ask, "Why should we care about the spiritual traditions of priestly families within Ancient Israel?" Or another way to ask the question is, "Why should we care about the priestly narratives of the Hebrew Bible, those sacred texts Christians call the Old Testament? Hasn't all that been replaced by the spirituality of Jesus and the New Testament?" We will return to this question in the last chapter.
What has drawn me into an interest
in biblical priests is the belief that the dominant culture of Protestant
America does seem to understand and be aware of the prophets. We are a
nation born of the Protestant Reformation and our heroes come from those
who challenged the hierarchical authority of Medieval Church and Empire.
We still admire the rugged individualism of those who take up the risks
of challenging the status quo in response to a vision of a better, and
more egalitarian, future. Most of us have at least heard the names of biblical
prophets like Amos, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah. And we admire their
independence.
We are not so sure about priests.
Perhaps it is because the Sadducees and Pharisees of the New Testament
are presented to us in a negative light. Perhaps it is the memory of oppression
structured into the Medieval Church and Empire that one day became a catalyst
for our own nation's Revolution. Priests by definition are religious figures
committed to the structures of institutions. And some view institutionalized
religion, in any faith, as a barrier to creativity and spontaneous experience.
So we are not as familiar with the names of biblical priests like Abiathar,
Zadok, Eli, and Hilkiah. Is it worth our time to learn their stories?
Yes it is. And a central reason is
precisely because they have chosen to work within systems. They are committed
to the structures of institutions like church, temple, and synagogue, embedded
as these are within the larger structures of state. Priests see themselves
as keepers of the sacred stories and keepers of the sacred places. In that
sense they are much like those of us who also struggle with the opportunities
and frustrations offered by the communal life of our religious institutions.
They allow us to address practical day to day issues such as, "Is it possible
to balance the needs we face for institutional maintenance--churches do
cost money--with a sustained and inclusive vision that nurtures a spiritual
pathway that is open to human need?"
The goal of this work is to recover
for Protestant Christians the spirituality of the priestly traditions of
Ancient Israel. As suggested above, Protestant Christians, and perhaps
Americans in general, readily identify with biblical prophets as figures
who often stand outside the system, bearing witness to an independence
and courage admired by those concerned about social justice and peace issues.
And, to be sure, we do need those called of God to a prophetic stance.
Priests, however, are usually not so identified. They are often seen as
part of the system, caught up in purity codes, rules, and laws--all of
which appear to constrict, even oppress, the spirit. This study proposes
to show how and what the priestly traditions of Ancient Israel can teach
us about options they see open to us in the spiritual quest.
We have modeled for us in the Old Testament at least two major styles of priestly spirituality, each with its own collection of sacred stories, and linked to the narrative tradition of a priestly family. Each family believed it was called of God to lead. It is, I believe, as we seek to explore the inner dynamic of their respective narrative traditions, that our own faith-sense of place and direction can be enriched.
Voice
We will soon discover that central
to our search is going to be the matter of voice. We will see that voice
is more than sound coming out of our mouths. Voice is that deep, inner
sense of having a position on a topic, however controversial; of having
something to say and being prepared to defend it in a public arena. We
have witnessed Mahatma Gandhi bring together his voice, nurtured in the
culture of his native India, linked to political power. His voice became
a catalyst for a nation to be reborn, throwing off the colonial status
that had been imposed on the region for so many years. We have witnessed
Martin Luther King apply many of the same non-violent political strategies
in the culture of the United States. It was when he gave voice to his vision
for a united America that an energy swept the nation, challenging the structural
violence of racism in our land. Mary Belenky and her colleages in their
book Women's Ways of Knowing,(2)
describe in case history after case history, the life-changing power that
results when a woman discovers she can move out of a stance of silence;
that she has a voice and can claim the right to be heard.
We will see that voice is a concept
whose richness requires related vocabulary to describe it. Notice in Robert
Polzin's observations on voice and speech, within the context of his interpretation
of First Samuel, how he speaks of utterance, story, words, point of view,
ideology, meaning, and one could add the word discourse.
The utterance of each voice speaking in the story provides a focal point for the intersecting words of others. The point of view represented by a single utterance of a single voice resonates with the words of others either in agreement or in opposition, with either emotive similarity or contrast. Loudly or faintly, we can perceive a cross-section of voices even when only a single person speaks in the text.(3)
The voices...do not simply express
individual ideologies in relation to one another; they represent social
points of view that intersect each other in a variety of ways, forming
what I call the implied author's story, the meaning (or meanings) of which
is certainly a major task of the reader to discover or, as some would say,
to invent.(4)
Similarly, we will learn from priests in Ancient Israel that spirituality, at one level, is also a matter of voice. Spirituality embraces a process; indeed, the process is a journey that marks a pathway toward voice. It is a concentration of energy that charts a path through a narrative world. Voice assumes we have a sufficiently coherent vision of a terrain that we can speak about it, and within it, meaningfully. Voice movement can be passive, simply receiving the description of a surface plane of perception conveyed by the narrator.
At other times, voice movement can be more active. Its energy level can pick up and gather sufficient momentum to travel through time and space as one gives voice to in-sight. As such, it can become quite sophisticated in its capacity to create, or deepen, narrative. Of particular interest to us as we listen to biblical storytellers is the phenomenon of reported speech.(5) Reported speech enables such travel through narrative space and time. Reported speech is speech within speech. In this instance, voice moves from one location to another to link with another speaker, perhaps, or to view an event from another geographical stance or time frame within the narrative. By reporting such speech, a voice path is created, along which an energy is shared. That energy can bring new insight. Within a narrative world, layer upon layer of meaning deepens understanding for the interpretive community whose stories these are. To speak synchronically, that is, in an integrated and connected way--linked to an experiential center--is a source of healing. To silence voice is an oppressive act.
A Literary-Critical Approach
Central to religious tradition as it has developed in western culture, is the epic narrative of Ancient Israel. Their story is recorded for us in what we now call the Hebrew Bible or Old Testament. And from its roots have sprung three major faiths: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. As with any of the world religions, over time the narrative discourse that crystallized in and is carried by its tradition becomes very complex and multifaceted. To keep in touch with a conscious awareness of how story can construct a narrative world within which to explore faith claims and the structures of personal and cultural identity, one needs a reading strategy. Literary criticism has as its goal the constant reevaluation of strategies that can open up a text to its meaning--or perhaps better, its meanings--that reveal patterns upon patterns like petals of a flower.
The agenda of this book is to
tap into the biblical narrative enough to illustrate the power of story
to construct meaning within the complexities of life experience. To get
at the modes of spirituality embodied by the various priestly families
of Ancient Israel--they being keepers of the sacred stories--we have chosen
to compare the epic narrative of Ancient Israel as told by the Chronicler
in the books of First and Second Chronicles with the telling of the same
story as told by the so-called Deuteronomist responsible for First and
Second Kings.(6)
This particular study of the priesthood of Ancient Israel will draw on a literary-critical theory that proposes a text can be multi-voiced; that is, a narrative text can carry different meanings depending on the perspective used to approach the text.(7)
We are concerned, too, to make every effort to understand a text first in its final, received form, before proposing multiple sources or documents as an explanation for apparent inconsistencies in a text.(8)
We will take seriously story
as a mode of thinking, and illustrate how story can offer multiple forms
of perception on an event or idea.(9)
As indicated above, of particular interest to us will be an examination
of the relationship between "reporting" and "reported" speech. Reporting
speech is the narrator's voice appearing simply as the surface text. Reported
speech is speech within speech and provides a narrator with a literary
device to create a meaning context for language. With reported speech one
can penetrate surface planes of perception to earlier time periods and
give expression to perceptions centered in different temporal or spatial
planes, thereby opening up new points of entry into a narrative world.
As we work through the text we will be offering suggestions as to who the
respective "implied authors"(10)
may be or at least what social groups within the cultural life of Ancient
Israel would benefit from telling the story as it appears.
As stated above, priestly families
saw themselves as keepers of the sacred stories, as they understood them,
and keepers of the sacred places insofar as they had the power to do so.
Because institutions are a part of a larger social network, religious practice--then
and now--extended into the political dynamics of the larger social order.
For instance, as we meet some of the biblical priests, we will bring with
us--and recognize in the text--many of the interconnections that form the
network of our own cultural context. We will recognize such things as economic
and political implications of religious positions.
There is an important assumption
to our narrative approach to the Bible. We are assuming that the Bible,
by means of its narrative, is a medium of exchange. We are being called
into a conversation; invited to bring our voice into that conversation,
within the narrative interchange afforded by story. Both ours and the Bible's
story are enriched by the process. Meanings will be created in the relationships
established. Bridges of exchange will be forged across the years as we
connect with storytellers of old. Our faith is that the same God who inspired
them, inspires us as we share an interpretive community across the centuries.
The truth we encounter at its most powerful is relational and experiential.
It draws us into connection.
Normally priests served a maintenance
function grounded in holy places. But if access to sanctuaries was cut
off, for whatever reason, some priestly families viewed God's action in
society from a peripheral stance, advocating transformation. Our thesis
is that blocks of literary tradition reflect the social/political experience
of the various priestly families. The formation and combination of the
literary strata also reflect the politics of the priestly families.
To anticipate some of our conclusions:
we will see in the priests' telling of their stories, two ways of pursuing
what we are calling a spiritual pathway. We will show how the narrative
in Chronicles appears to be shaped by a hierarchical quest for purity while
the narrative in Kings seems to find shape for its discourse in the world
of relationships. We will see the differences connected to the respective
social experience of two priestly families in Ancient Israel as they tell
their stories; in particular, we will argue that their experience with
political power has shaped their perceptions.
1
MEETING ABIATHAR AND ZADOK
To start our exploration, two
priests from 1 Kings 1-2 provide a good introduction: Abiathar and Zadok.
Using the metaphor of the Bible as a medium of exchange, if we can think
of the Bible as a magnetic field of electronic energy composed of network
upon network of connections, we can begin to sense the scope of story's
narrative space. It is a space wherein voice and word can come alive. We,
of course, bring our voice to the setting; but the story also contains
the energy of the narrator, frozen on the printed page, as it were, waiting
to be activated in all of its life-giving power. Each of the characters
in the narrative world, within their own time and space, wait to be resurrected
by the medium of word to participate in the creation of meaning.
The priests, Abiathar and Zadok,
are two such characters in this narrative world. As we are invited into
the story to meet them, part of us is activated in the interaction. The
story is incomplete without our participation. We build relationships ourselves
with the characters. Some we like; others we don't. Contrary to earlier
assumptions about Bible study, we are not neutral observers who can stand
outside a text. As we read and begin to engage the story, we become part
of it. As in a crowded room, the text can become multi-voiced. Many points
of view can be contained in a story. The question we face is whether or
not we can discern the voice of the implied author who controls the telling
of the story, the one controlling the voice of the narrator.
As a working hypothesis, in
our point of entry into the world of priests, we will assume that the dominant
story in Kings is being told from the perspective of Abiathar of the family
of Mushite Levite priests. As in any set of relationships it will take
awhile to feel what that means, much as it requires some life experience
in the United States to feel the impact of the Kennedys or the Rockefellers
on American culture. Mushite is an adjective built from the name of Moses.
Levite identifies someone from the tribe of Levi. So a Mushite Levite is
someone from the tribe of Levi who traced his or her family genealogy back
to Moses as the founding ancestor of the family. We will learn that at
some point in Ancient Israelite history, to be a priest required a genealogical
connection to the tribe of Levi.
We will notice that the narrator
can move us as reader around the narrative world, both temporally and spatially,
by means of speech--and speech within speech. We can find ourselves in
a private space; other times we are in a public space with respect to the
other characters. It is our claim that these details of narrative time
and space constructed by the narrator's speech are clues to the meanings
being constructed. And part of the construct is our perception added to
the mix. Others reading or hearing the same story may construct different
meanings. The richness of story is that many meanings can be correct and
faithful to the text. The text can be multi-voiced.
To understand the priesthood and the spirituality of priests, we must enter into the network of relationships created by the narrative world of the storyteller. We will see that the priests' relationship to and perception of kings is part of their sense of who they were. It will often be the case that a narrative, in either Samuel/Kings or Chronicles--even though the content is focused on a king--will reflect an assessment of that king, which embodies the values and spirituality of the priestly family and implied author telling the story. Fundamental to our approach is the claim that the stories about kings in Samuel/Kings and Chronicles often tell us more about priests than they tell us about kings. At the very least, we are seeing the king through the lenses of the storyteller.
Abiathar and Zadok were brought into office by King David. As suggested above, in the Book of Kings, we will hear the story told from the perspective of one of the priests, namely Abiathar. The temporal context of the narrative is the period of Solomon's rise to power. Even in this telling of the story, it will become clear that the respective spiritual pathways of Abiathar and Zadok were shaped by their experience of political power centered in the kings of the monarchy.
Kings of Judah and Israel(11)
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Abiathar
The narrator opens
the First Book of Kings by taking the reader to a private space: namely
King David's bedroom. In so doing we are witness to a perspective on David--and
thus, also, on kingship--not normally witnessed by the general public.
We see David grown old and frail. He cannot keep warm. We witness advice
offered to him by servants, not official officers of the state. "Let them
search for a girl, a virgin, for my lord the king...; let her lie in your
bosom and my lord the king will keep warm" (1 Kings 1:2). So they find
Abishag the Shunammite and bring her to the king to serve him "...but the
king did not know her sexually" (1 Kings 1:2). Some have argued the meaning
of the latter is to be read "...could not know her sexually" thereby
signaling it is time to find a new king.(12)
David no longer embodied the virility required to fill the office of kingship.
Immediately thereafter we read of Adonijah, one of David's sons, taking
steps in a public space to assume the throne saying, "I will be king" (1
Kings 1:5).
The Book of Kings
opens, therefore, on an insecure note. If we understand that, in addition
to administering economic and military control of a kingdom, one of the
roles of a king is to establish a political discourse within which even
religious language derives its meaning, shifts in that larger context threaten
stability at many levels. We are moving into that period between kings
when the successor to David has not yet been fully determined. Or if it
has, Adonijah has not been made fully aware of it. The power of kingship
itself was vulnerable, rising close to the surface of public discourse.
By allowing us to enter into the private space of the king, the narrator
is also letting us witness that Israel's heroes--like David--are not invincible,
not perfect. They can grow old and frail. They can become subject to political
maneuvering by those in power who surround the king. This maneuvering operates
in the arena of political discourse and voice. Among other things, a pretender
to the throne must gain control of the public discourse. His or her voice
must take charge of the public perception of king and kingdom.
The scene shifts
to Adonijah. His assumption that he would succeed David as king is not
without some merit. He was the eldest living son of David, having been
born next after Absalom. And apparently he had never been told by David
he would not succeed him. The narrator does tell us "he was a very handsome
man" (1 Kings 1:6). That, however, reminds us of comparable statements
having been made about Saul and Absalom, both opponents of David, neither
of whom worked out as king. The narrator reports a speech given by God
to Samuel, who was looking for a successor to Saul in Jesse's son Eliab.
YHWH said, "Do not look on his [Eliab's] appearance or on the height of
his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as
mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on
the heart" (1 Sam. 16:7 NRSV(13)).
Still, Adonijah
did take steps to build a power base to support his bid for kingship. Supporters
included Joab son of Zeruiah from the military and Abiathar from the priesthood.
"But the priest Zadok, and Benaiah son of Jehoiada [from the military],
and the prophet Nathan...and David's own warriors did not side with Adonijah"
(1 Kings 1:8). Thus, the narrator has brought the reader to the stance
of witnessing a political power struggle between supporters of Adonijah
and supporters of Solomon with at least a hint that Adonijah is going to
lose, particularly if all he has going for him is the fact that he is handsome.
We return to the
scene of the king's bedroom to witness the elaborate scheme orchestrated
by Nathan and Bathsheba to convince David to name Solomon as his successor
before he dies. The complexity of the plot is reflected in the intricate
use of reported speech within speech. The narrator quotes Nathan to Bathsheba:
"Have you not heard that Adonijah...has become king and our lord David
doesn't know it?....Let me give you advice, so that you may save your own
life and the life of your son Solomon" (1 Kings 1:11). Nathan then created
a speech Bathsheba was to give to David within which is reported an earlier
speech David had given to Bathsheba promising her that Solomon would succeed
him as king. Bathsheba is to say to David, "Did you not, my lord the king,
swear to your servant, saying, 'Your son Solomon shall succeed me as king,
and he shall sit on my throne?' Why then is Adonijah king" (1 Kings 1:13)?
Then Nathan told Bathsheba he will enter the king's bedroom to confirm her words. And so it happened. Bathsheba added these words to David, "...the eyes of all Israel are on you to tell them who should sit on the throne of my lord the king after him" (1 Kings 1:20). David responded, "Your son Solomon shall succeed me as king, and he shall sit on my throne in my place" (1 Kings 1:30).
David then gave instructions for the anointing of Solomon as his successor to include a parade through Jerusalem on the king's mule and an anointing at the spring called Gihon. Left out, of course, in the ceremony were supporters of Adonijah including Joab son of Zeruiah and Abiathar the priest. Abiathar had supported the wrong candidate.
Jonathan Son of Abiathar
Meanwhile, elsewhere
in Jerusalem by the stone Zoheleth which is beside En-rogel, Adonijah had
sacrificed sheep, oxen, and fatted cattle. He was making an effort to maneuver
himself into position so that he would be the one to take control of the
political discourse on kingship. He had invited all his brothers, the king's
sons, and all the royal officials of Judah. Note that the spatial location
of the narrative is Jerusalem. The tension between the two groups of supporters
is heightened by the fact they are within earshot of each other. The noise
of one can catch the attention of the other.
When the supporters
of Adonijah had finished feasting, with their noise subsiding, Joab heard
the great noise coming from that part of Jerusalem celebrating Solomon's
inauguration as king. He asked, "Why is the city in an uproar?" (1 Kings
1:41). At which point Jonathan son of Abiathar entered with a message.
This scene of a messenger coming with news for a royal figure recalls the Amalekite bringing the message of Saul's death to David and the two messengers from Israel, Baanah and Rechab, bringing news to David of the death of Ish-bosheth, Saul's son and successor over northern Israel. David's response to the two men from Israel was, "As YHWH lives who has redeemed my life from every adversity, when the one who informed me, saying, 'See, Saul is dead,' and he had thought himself a bearer of good news, I seized him and I killed him at Ziklag, that I might give him a reward [for such good news]! How much more, when wicked men have killed a righteous man in his house on his bed. Should I not now require his blood from your hand and exterminate you from the earth!" (2 Sam. 4:9-11). We note here how the king is in a position to shape the direction of discourse by deciding--quite literally--who does and who does not have voice.
The narrator constructs
the scene involving Adonijah and Jonathan is such a way that one can see
a number of reversals, particularly with the other messenger-royal scenes
in mind. First is the context of noise and silence. As the feast celebrating
Adonijah's inauguration winds down and is finished, the noise of the other
celebration is heard by participants in Adonijah's festivities. Adonijah
is the royal figure, recipient of a message. He thinks he is about to become
king. But it will not be so. He tells Bathsheba later: "You know that the
kingdom was mine, and that all Israel expected me to reign; however, the
kingdom has turned about and become my brother's;..." (1 Kings 2:15). He
would learn from Jonathan son of Abiathar that it was Solomon who had become
king. Appearance and reality in the earlier tension between Saul and David
over kingship--and thus who will establish the political discourse of the
kingdom--reappears here between Adonijah and Solomon. Even after David
received what he called publicly the bad news of Saul's death, one cannot
help but wonder if privately David received the message as good news. Saul
had pursued David as an outlaw and now he was removed as an obstacle toward
his own assumption of kingship. Similarly, his public grief over the death
of Ish-bosheth seems to be double-voiced.
Now Adonijah, celebrating
his rise to kingship, discovers he is a non-king. It is instructive that
Jonathan, a son of Abiathar, should be the messenger. On the surface one
would expect good news from a priestly supporter. Adonijah said, "Come
in, for you are a worthy man and surely you bring good news" (1 Kings 1:42).
Jonathan reveals, however, that it is bad news for Adonijah. And we shall
see that it is also bad news for Abiathar since Solomon will dismiss Abiathar
from his role as priest. The noise and silence of the scene take on added
significance for the supporters of Adonijah. Abiathar and those linked
to his priestly family will also be silenced.
Jonathan reported a speech by David within the context of his message which carries a double voice for the reader. David said, "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who today has granted one of my offspring to sit on my throne and permitted me to witness it" (1 Kings 1:48). This is obviously good news for the supporters of Solomon. Solomon has received the blessing of both YHWH and David.
But the narrator, by allowing the reader into the private space of David's bedroom and the memory of David's earlier public statements in response to messengers, opens the door to at least the possibility of a concealed message in the narrative. David was old and frail and vulnerable to the political manipulation of those in power around him. Nathan and Bathsheba were successful in manipulating David's will in their favor. The text tells us that David had given Adonijah no indication that he would not succeed him as eldest son. Adonijah had been caught by surprise.
Abiathar would be
silenced by the noise of Solomon's party and his heavy-handed dismissal
of Abiathar as priest, but that--in Abiathar's, and possibly the narrator's,
view--would not be YHWH's will. In another part of Jerusalem, as it were,
the Mushite Levites as supporters of Adonijah, would find a way to voice
God's will, even though for now "...all the guests of Adonijah got up trembling
and went their own ways" (1 Kings 1:49).
Just before David
died he called in Solomon and offered advice to his successor. This would
be another instance of a speech not intended for a public audience, but
rather an occasion for the narrator to bring the reader into a space behind
closed doors. It provides the reader with a stance to perceive a concealed
speech within the narrative: we can see an instance of the multiple voices
operative in the narrative. From David's side the speech deals with some
unfinished business. From Solomon's side, just as David before him, we
learn that Solomon would find it necessary to deal with his opponents.
Joab was one of
those who sided with Adonijah, so Joab is a powerful figure that would
have to be dealt with. In spite of the many instances in which Joab was
David's protector during his reign, David offers a public rationale to
Solomon for getting rid of him. Joab had killed Abner and Amasa, both potential
problems for David; but Joab is presented as one who did so for personal
reasons, "retaliating in time of peace for blood that had been shed in
war" (1 Kings 2:5). Joab avenged the death of his brother Asahel who had
been killed by Abner.
Later, when Joab
received word of Solomon's intent, he sought sanctuary by grasping the
horns of the altar in YHWH's tent. But Solomon instructed Benaiah son of
Jehoiada, "...strike him down and bury him; and thus take away from me
and from my father's house the guilt for the blood that Joab shed without
cause....he attacked and killed with the sword two men more righteous and
better than himself, Abner son of Ner, commander of the army of Israel,
and Amasa son of Jether, commander of the army of Judah" (1 Kings 2:31-32).
Similarly Shemei had cursed David in his retreat from Jerusalem in the days of Absalom's revolt. "Therefore do not hold him guiltless, for you are a wise man; you will know what you ought to do to him, and you must bring his gray head down with blood to Sheol" (1 Kings 2:9). The sentence for Shemei was that he should never leave Jerusalem. After three years, however, he did leave the city to retrieve two of his slaves. Solomon arrested him and said, "You know in your own heart all the evil that you did to my father David; so YHWH will bring back your evil on your own head. But King Solomon shall be blessed, and thethrone of David shall be established before YHWH forever [italics mine]. Then the king commanded Benaiah son of Jehoiada; and he went out and struck him down, and he died" (1 Kings 2:44-46).
Interestingly, David did not provide a rationale for Solomon to dismiss Abiathar, though it was clear from Solomon's perspective he was not one who could be kept close to the center of power. Solomon would have to look elsewhere for a public rationale to deal with Abiathar.
Abiathar and Eli
There is a speech
from a man of God to Eli in First Samuel 2:27-36. It offers us some data
as to the identity of the priestly house of Eli. The man of God quotes
YHWH, "Thus the Lord has said, 'I revealed myself to the family of your
ancestor in Egypt when they were slaves to the house of Pharaoh. I chose
him out of all the tribes of Israel to be my priest, to go up to my altar,
to offer incense, to wear an ephod before me; and I gave to the family
of your ancestor all my offerings by fire from the people of Israel'" (1
Sam. 2:27-28). In Deuteronomy 33:10, in the Blessing of Moses of the various
tribes of Israel, we read of Levi: "They teach Jacob your ordinances, and
Israel your law; they place incense before you, and whole burnt offerings
on your altar." The mention of Pharaoh's house and the choice of Eli's
ancestor as a priest from the tribe of Levi selected to ascend the altar,
would suggest that the person referred to by the man of God, was Moses.
When David conferred with Solomon just before his death, he said "Be strong,
be courageous, and keep the charge of YHWH your God, walking in his ways
and keeping his statutes, his commandments, his ordinances, and his testimonies,
as it is written in the law of Moses, so that you may prosper in all that
you do and wherever you turn" (1 Kings 2:3). If the priest referred to
by the man of God in his speech to Eli is Moses, then Eli stands in the
Mushite Levite tradition, Mushite being a reference to priests of the tribe
of Levi who traced their lineage back to Moses. As presented at this point
in the narrative, Mushite Levites would be a family with full priestly
credentials. The location of Eli at Shiloh and the carrying of the ark
would also connect Eli's family with Mushite Levites.
But there is a problem
with Eli's sons and their worthiness to carry on the tradition after Eli.
Hophni and Phinehas take food for themselves that was intended for YHWH;
and they lie with women working at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting.
So the man of God continues, "Why then look with greedy eye at my sacrifices
and my offerings that I commanded, and honor your sons more than me by
fattening yourselves on the choicest parts of every offering of my people
Israel?" (1 Sam. 2:29). The narrative affirms that God decided to withdraw
his support from Eli's priestly house because of the actions of his sons
Hophni and Phinehas. Not only will they die, but "I will raise up for myself
a faithful priest, who shall do according to what is in my heart and in
my mind. I will build him a sure house, and he shall go in and out before
my anointed one forever" (1 Sam. 2:35).
Robert Polzin has argued that the immediate context for the speech by the man of God was to prepare Eli for the downfall of his priestly house and the rise of Samuel as his priestly successor.(14)
Samuel's connection
to his father Elkanah would make Samuel an Ephraimite, not a Levite. And
his leadership role would extend into the responsibilities associated with
judge and prophet as well. There is sufficient allusion, however, to sacred
place and priestly function for this prophecy against Eli to be useful
to Solomon. And it is not unusual in tradition for prophetic statements
such as that from the man of God, to be reapplied in subsequent time periods
for different purposes.
Solomon needed a
public rationale for dismissing Abiathar. Abiathar, too, was associated
with Shiloh; Solomon referred to Abiathar's carrying the ark of the covenant
for David. Abiathar was among the priests of Nob who had fled to Nob after
the destruction of Shiloh by the Philistines. Abiathar was the only priest
at Nob who escaped the massacre ordered by Saul and was offered security
by the outlaw David. All the indications would point to Abiathar as also
belonging to the priestly family of Mushite Levites.
It would serve David's
political agenda to have Abiathar as one of his supporters, since Abiathar
carried the ephod and thus could inquire of God when needed. Also when
David would move to extend his kingdom from Judah and Hebron to include
the northern tribes, Abiathar would be recognized as one from the ancient
and northern sanctuary of Shiloh with credentials among Mushite Levites.
Northerners would be assured that the new monarchy being constructed by
David would include their voice.
Solomon, however,
would view Abiathar differently because Abiathar had supported Adonijah
in the succession of kingship. Like Joab, he could no longer be trusted.
It would not do to kill Abiathar, as he had Adonijah and Joab. Instead
he banished him to his estate in Anathoth. "The king said to the priest
Abiathar, 'Go to Anathoth, to your estate; for you deserve death. But I
will not at this time put you to death, because you carried the ark of
YHWH God before my father David, and because you shared in all the hardships
my father endured.' So Solomon banished Abiathar from being priest to YHWH,
thus fulfilling the word of YHWH that he had spoken concerning the house
of Eli in Shiloh" (1 Kings 2:26-27). Solomon had his public rationale.
The Mushite Levite priestly house had been silenced. "...the king put the
priest Zadok in the place of Abiathar" (1 Kings 2:35).
Again, because the reader has had the benefit of witnessing, in non-public spaces, the political maneuvering of David and Solomon and those around them, the implied author and/or narrator could be concealing a message to the reader that is contrary to the surface message. To be sure, it was Solomon's will that Abiathar be dismissed. But it is not as clear that it was also YHWH's will. The Mushite Levites had been marginalized by Solomon's action. The economic implications for Mushite Levites are reflected in the man of God's speech to Eli referred to earlier: "Everyone who is left in your family [that is, Eli's] shall come to implore him [the reliable priest] for a piece of silver or a loaf of bread, and shall say, 'Please put me in one of the priest's places, that I may eat a morsel of bread'" (1 Sam. 2:36). The primary means of economic support for a priest and his family was through offerings brought to a sanctuary. To be prohibited access to a sanctuary cut off his and his family's food supply and immediately placed them in a dependency status.
Rehoboam and Jeroboam
The narrator continues
to describe how the priestly family of Mushite Levites was cut off from
access to the holy places, not only once by Solomon in his dismissal of
Abiathar, but yet again by Jeroboam. Robert Polzin makes an excellent observation
during his discussion of the fall of Eli's House, "I am suggesting, therefore,
that these early stories about the fall of the House of Eli and the rise
of Samuel, in addition to having inherent interest in themselves, form
a kind of parabolic [that is, as a parable] introduction to the Deuteronomic
history of kingship. Both Eli's house and its successor, Samuel's house,
like the rich man in Nathan's parable, are stand-ins for royalty...."(15)
As Eli fell off
his stool overweight and blind, so do we see the united kingdom beginning
to fracture towards the end of Solomon's reign. His many wives turned his
heart after other gods to the point "...Solomon was building a high place
for Chemosh, the filth of Moab, on the mountain which is east of Jerusalem,
and for Molech, the filth of the Ammonites" (1 Kings 11:7).
YHWH then said to
Solomon, "Since it has been this way with you, and you did not keep my
covenant and my statutes which I commanded you I will surely tear the kingdom
from you and I will give it to your servant" (1 Kings 11:11). One of Solomon's
officials, Jeroboam, "...a mighty man of valor...overseer over all the
forced
labor of the house ofJoseph" (1 Kings 11:28) raised his hand against
the king. Since the house of Joseph is a reference to the northern tribes
of Ephraim and Manasseh, it is not surprising that a certain prophet from
the north, Ahijah of Shiloh, should appear voicing the displeasure of YHWH
against the policies of Solomon. That Israelites should be subject to forced
labor--not by Pharaoh of Egypt as of old, but by one of their own--was
intolerable. The kingdom was beginning to fall apart: at this point on
the brink of civil war. "Ahijah grasped the new garment which was on him
[Jeroboam], and tore it into twelve...pieces. Then he said to Jeroboam,
'Take for yourself ten torn pieces,' for thus says YHWH the God of Israel,
'Behold, I am tearing the kingdom from the hand of Solomon, and I will
give you ten tribes'" (1 Kings 11:30-31).
This narrative reversal
of fortune makes sense when viewed from the stance of an interpretive community
centered in Shiloh. Eli was located in Shiloh. In order to formulate a
public rationale for the dismissal of Abiathar, Solomon linked the prophecy
against the House of Eli with Abiathar, a priest also connected with Shiloh.
Now, in the presence of intolerable political and economic circumstances,
Ahijah of Shiloh announced YHWH's decision to bring down Solomon's house.
We see that Eli's worthless sons are paralleled in the ineptness of Solomon's
son Rehoboam.
Elders from Israel
approached Rehoboam and said, "Your father made our yoke hard, but you
now, lighten the hard servitude of your father and his heavy yoke that
he has put upon us, then we will serve you" (1 Kings 12:4). A council of
elders in Judah did advise Rehoboam to lighten up. But instead, Rehoboam
chose to follow the advice of younger men with whom he had grown up in
the palace, "...my father loaded upon you a heavy yoke,...I will add to
your yoke; my father controlled you with whips, but I will control you
with scorpions" (1 Kings 12:11). And so Israel responded, under the leadership
of Jeroboam, "To your tents, O Israel! What portion is there for us in
David" (1 Kings 12:15)? All this to fulfill YHWH's word spoken through
Ahijah of Shiloh.
Mushite Levite priests,
however, would find that their anticipation of being restored to active
employment at reopened sanctuaries of the north would not come to be. Jeroboam
turned out to be just as insensitive to their position as had Solomon.
Jeroboam "made priests from among the people who were not from the Levites"
(1 Kings 12:31). One of the reopened sanctuaries, at Bethel, was cursed
by a man of God from Judah. "Even after this incident Jeroboam did not
turn from his evil way, but he went on and made priests for the high places
from among the people; anyone who desired, he ordained as priests for the
high places" (1 Kings 13:33). This practice became sin to the house of
Jeroboam (1 Kings 13:34).
In terms of a spiritual pathway, the priestly family of Mushite Levites was once again forced into a wilderness experience; like Abiathar, they were being silenced by those who held political power. Their challenge would be, "Could they experience and give voice to the hand of God in the turn of events they had to face? Is there a discernible spiritual pathway that is at home in the wilderness?" Since there are times when we, too, experience what feels like the absence of God, it is worth the effort on our part to hear what Abiathar and the Mushite Levites have to say about the spiritual life.
When compared with Chronicles, the narrative in Kings reflects a different social space. It is with the figure of Abiathar and the Mushite Levites that we have a window to a voice from the margin of Ancient Israelite life. To be sure, that voice needs to be reconstructed. Still, Abiathar and the Mushite Levites from a peripheralized social space would have had a reason to humanize the narrative, name the powers, and redefine the holy in terms of healing--all of which are characteristics of the Deuteronomistic narrative. It is true that the narrative has been written over by the dominant voice coming from Jerusalem in Solomon's day, but the authority of Moses and David in tradition have assured that it was not silenced completely.
Zadok
"...and the king
[Solomon] put the priest Zadok in the place of Abiathar" (1 Kings 2:35).
Such a simple statement and yet the social ramifications were enormous.
From Zadok's point of view it was like receiving an acceptance letter for
admission into a very selective college; or landing the highly desirable
and well-paying job in one's field; or getting the government contract
that enables one to continue research on a project with all the resources
needed available. For Zadok the door was opened to run affairs at the temple,
with the king's blessing. Whereas Abiathar had been dismissed, Zadok was
given the go-ahead, the green light.
This meant for Zadok
and those associated with him in the priestly profession, that they would
develop a spirituality quite different from that of the Mushite Levites.
The Zadokites operated within the system. They could define the boundaries
for what counted as the sacred. And they had the power to maintain the
system. Issues of class and power would influence the Zadokite formulation
of their spiritual pathway.
To be sure, for
those outside the system, this linkage of the trappings of religion with
political power is often experienced negatively. Much of the negative Protestant
Christian attitude toward the priestly traditions referred to earlier,
no doubt stems from those at the lower end, or outside, of the priestly
hierarchical ladder. But before we go to a critique of this form of spirituality,
we need to let it have its say. What kind of discourse did the Zadokites
create in their attempt to give voice to YHWH's activity in their midst?
What values would the Zadokite priestly family affirm and defend?
A text that offers
us a point of entry into this mode of spirituality is the prayer of dedication
recorded in 2 Chronicles 6:1-7:10, offered by Solomon, on the occasion
of the completion of the building of the temple. At the conclusion of the
prayer, the narrator described a theophany--that is, an experiential manifestation--of
YHWH envisioned as fire. For the Mushite Levites, as voiced by the Deuteronomist,
the theophany par excellence occurred within the expanse of the wilderness
outside
at Mount Horeb. The entire mountain was aflame as YHWH voiced his word
to the people of Israel--who in YHWH's presence received the ten commandments--which
became the heart of the Mosaic vision (Deut. 5).
For the Zadokites,
however, a parallel theophany occurred inside, within the structured
space of the temple. "When Solomon had ended his prayer, fire came down
from heaven and consumed the burnt offering and the sacrifice; and the
glory of YHWH filled the temple. The priests could not enter the house
of YHWH, because of the glory of YHWH filled YHWH's house. When all the
people of Israel saw the fire come down and the glory of YHWH on the temple,
they bowed down on the pavement with their faces to the ground, and worshipped
and gave thanks to YHWH saying, 'For he is good, for his steadfast love
endures forever'" (2 Chron. 7:1-3).
When one is part of a team, as it were, the issue is no longer an issue of participation. The drive, now, is to produce. One is called to discipline and excellence. In the world of spirituality as in any other endeavor, discipline requires focus nurtured in a controlled space. Unnecessary distractions need to be held at a distance. Since the arena of the spiritual quest encompasses the infinity of an inner universe, we who are still in our finite bodily form, must return to the task again and again. The patterned behavior of ritual allows us to disengage from the distractions of the mundane and secular to resume, once again, our focus and energy for the inner journey. Over time the sacred space created by such a community of seekers becomes very rarified; indeed, its silent structures become perceptible to an elite few. It is inevitable that this way of being religious will become un-"popular", that is, inaccessible to the many. However much it may be admired from afar, there will be identifiable layers or levels of participation permitted. Spirituality, too, has it range of "classified information" accessible only to those with the proper credentials. And the Zadokites were in a position to establish those credentials.
Solomon's Prayer
The narrator of
Chronicles brings us into the public space of the temple which, however,
is not an ordinary space. Appropriately it is the king who offers the prayer
of dedication, but even Solomon as a secular figure can only go so far
into the inner reaches of this space. At the heart is YHWH himself. Solomon
said, "YHWH has said that he would reside in thick darkness" (2 Chron.
6:1). To make YHWH accessible to Israel, Solomon built him a house: "I
have built you [YHWH] an exalted house, a place for you to reside in forever"
(1 Chron. 6:2).
In the Chronicler's narrative, the use of speech within speech has the effect of moving ever more deeply into the narrative content of the temple's holy space. The building's structures remain solid and like a foundation, while the believer moves through time and space toward YHWH, by means of speech. "Solomon turned around and blessed all the assembly of Israel, while all the assembly of Israel stood. And he said, 'Blessed be YHWH, the God of Israel, who with his hand has fulfilled what he promised with his mouth to my father David, saying,..." (2 Chron. 6:3-4). Note the narrator brings the reader into the temple. Then Solomon speaks, moving earlier in time, to a speech YHWH had made to David. Within the context of that speech, YHWH makes reference to yet an earlier event, that of the Exodus, located in Egypt before either Jerusalem or the temple had been chosen for his name to reside. "...to my father David, saying, 'Since the day that I brought my people out of the land of Egypt, I have not chosen a city from any of the tribes of Israel in which to build a house, so that my name might be there, and I chose no one as ruler over my people Israel; but [now] I have chosen Jerusalem in order that my name may be there, and I have chosen David to be over my people Israel'" (2 Chron. 6:5-6).
Then Solomon quotes
God saying that David was not to be the one to build YHWH's house, "but
your son who shall be born to you shall build the house for my name" (2
Chron. 6:9). And then the voice of Solomon returns to the sanctity of the
present: "Now YHWH has fulfilled his promise that he made; for I have succeeded
my father David, and sit on the throne of Israel, as YHWH promised, and
have built the house for the name of YHWH, the God of Israel." (2 Chron.
6:10). And within that setting, the moveable icon of the earlier period,
the ark of the covenant, was to be placed within the present stationary
setting of the temple: "There I have set the ark, in which is the covenant
of YHWH that he made with the people of Israel" (2 Chron. 6:11).
The mystery is voiced
by Solomon, "Does God really dwell with man on earth? Even the heavens
to their uttermost reaches cannot contain you; how much less this house
that I have built!" (2 Chron. 6:18). Yet this house is to be the visible
point of contact between YHWH in his heavenly abode and his presence on
earth. That makes this space holy indeed; and this priestly family in charge
of God's house a highly select group. Can one construct a system of protocol
which has as its goal an interchange with God, the author of the universe
itself?
All the trappings
of monarchic protocol are but a springboard toward an experiential approach
to God. Interestingly the Hebrew word for palace is the same word as for
temple. In the royal mindset God's house has all the structures of the
king's palace, and more. The king had his messenger system; there were
procedures for petition and response when dealing with matters of state.
It is but a short step to recognize that those same procedures would give
structure to affairs in God's house. Solomon gave expression to this messenger
system which leads from state to king to God: "May your eyes be open day
and night toward this house, toward the place where you have resolved to
make your name abide; may you heed the prayers that your servant offers
toward this place. And when you hear the supplications that your servant
and your people Israel offer toward this place, give heed in your heavenly
abode--give heed and pardon" (2 Chron. 6:20:21).
Then Solomon offered
as illustration, suitable issues for prayer brought to God; and they bear
a close resemblance to daily issues a king would face. "If a man commits
an offense against his fellow....take action to judge your servants" (2
Chron. 6:22-23). If Israel should lose land in battle against an enemy
but they approach God seeking forgiveness for their sin, "...restore them
to the land you gave them and to their fathers" (2 Chron. 6:25). Since
God controls the weather and there is drought, when the people seek forgiveness
"...send rain down upon the land that you gave to your people as their
heritage" (2 Chron. 6:27). Issues of personal health, war, captivity, even
aliens with requests, are all legitimate concerns to be brought to God's
house. "Deal with each man according to his ways as you know his heart
to be--for you alone know the hearts of all men--so that they may revere
you all the days that they live on the land you gave to our fathers" (2
Chron. 6:30-31).
As in any house
there is also a protocol for meals. In the royal palace there would be
a range of meals from the more informal to official dinners of state.(16)
So, too, in God's house. The preparation of food for a dinner at which
God is present requires special attention. Similarly, special precautions
would need to be taken to assure the suitability of all the other guests
present. Since God is absolutely pure and cannot by nature tolerate the
presence of impurity, ritual procedures were created to assure that at
God's table everything and everyone was honorably presented, certainly
suitable for a king, but in this instance--and more.
The narrator indicates that YHWH was pleased after Solomon's audience with the divine king: "YHWH appeared to Solomon at night and said to him, 'I have heard your prayer and have chosen this site as my house of sacrifice'" (2 Chron. 7:12). It would remain to the Zadokites the charge to run this house with all the discipline, efficiency, and decorum that one would expect to be suitable for a god.
Zadok and Aaron
The primary organizational
unit for society operative in Ancient Israel was the household. This was
the primary economic, political, and social unit of the country. Family
and family honor was the primary medium of exchange.(17)
So to be in charge of God's house would require that those who worked there
would have impeccable family credentials. One's genealogy functioned for
citizens of Ancient Israel much as one's employment resume functions in
our culture.
When the Zadokites
came to power under Solomon that raised the question for some about their
credentials to serve in that high office so close to the presence of God.
Certainly Mushite Levites would wonder about Zadokite suitability for the
position. And so some within the Zadokite priestly circles had to sort
out the issue of credentials. It was clear that Solomon felt that Zadok
should be in charge; but was it also YHWH's will?
Abiathar's legitimacy
during David's day was established by Abiathar's genealogical connection
to Moses from the wilderness period. And it was widely recognized that
all priests must be from the tribe of Levi. Did Zadok meet these criteria?
The genealogy of
Zadok has been the topic of debate even among contemporary scholars. There
is very little information to resolve the matter, which in and of itself
is a strike against Zadok. Some have proposed that Zadok had Jebusite--that
is, pre-Davidic, Jerusalemite--connections; and David brought Jebusite
Zadokites into his priestly establishment as a political compromise when
he took charge of the city. The ancient Near East gives numerous examples
of king and priesthood uniting their respective power bases. When they
do, they become a formidable entity indeed. This would partially explain
why it appears David took Jerusalem so easily. It would then be a simple
matter to link Abiathar to that group.(18)
That would not,
however, speak to the issue of Zadokite legitimacy when Abiathar was dismissed
by Solomon. The Jebusites were not Yahwists and had no connection with
the wilderness period and experience of Ancient Israel. Nor did they have
anything to do with Levi. More would be required to legitimize Solomon's
choice of Zadok.
Another approach
is to link Zadok with the Aaronids of Hebron. There was a tradition that
Moses had an older brother Aaron, "Moses was eighty years old and Aaron
eighty-three when they spoke to Pharaoh" (Exod. 7:7). That would mean that
Aaron was a Levite. Chronicles lists a certain Zadok among Aaronids when
David ruled from Hebron. "These are the numbers of the chiefs of those
equipped for war [who] came to David at Hebron, to turn over the kingdom
of Saul to him according to the command of YHWH:...from the Levites, four
thousand six hundred; and Jehoiada was prince of [the house of] Aaron and
with him three thousand seven hundred; and Zadok, a valiant young warrior;
and from his ancestral house twenty-two officers;...." (1 Chron. 12:24-29).
Keepers of the Sacred Stories
We begin to see
how important the role of keeper of the sacred stories was when we look
at narratives about Moses and Aaron that appear in different parts of the
Pentateuch. In some places Moses is presented in a leadership role; in
others, Aaron is in charge.
For instance, it
is to be expected that there would be a thematic pattern of humility on
the part of a hero approached by God to perform a task. The initial response
would be reticence on the part of the hero. "The task is too great. I do
not have the ability to accomplish such a goal."
In the hands of
a pro-Moses narrator, that quality of humility would be highlighted as
a strength. In Numbers 12:2-3, Aaron and Miriam challenge the assumption
that Moses is the primary spokesperson for God. "They said, 'Has the Lord
spoken only through Moses? Has he not spoken through us also?' And the
Lord heard it. Now the man Moses was very humble, more so than anyone else
on the face of the earth" (Num. 12:2-3). The narrator in this instance
has set up the occasion for a confrontation between Aaron, Miriam, and
Moses over the issue of authority to speak for YHWH. And YHWH settled it
by presenting Moses as the primary speaker, "...he is entrusted with all
my house. With him I speak face to face--clearly, not in riddles; and he
beholds the form of the Lord" (Num. 12:7-8).
In the hands of
a pro-Aaron narrator, the same theme of humility can take a different turn.
In chapter four of Exodus, YHWH approaches Moses to try to convince him
to go to Pharaoh and negotiate the release of the Hebrew slaves. Moses'
natural reticence to take on such a formidable challenge receives continued
encouragement from YHWH. YHWH insists he will be with him in the task.
But Moses persists in his refusal to accept the challenge. "O my Lord,
I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor even now that you have
spoken to your servant; but I am slow of speech and slow of tongue" (Exod.
4:10). But YHWH, too, persists. "Who gives speech to mortals? Who makes
them mute or deaf, seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go, and
I will be with your mouth and teach you what you are to speak" (Exod. 4:11).
Now a pro-Moses
storyteller, at this point in the story, would probably acknowledge the
humility of Moses as a good quality, but then continue the narrative with
Moses accepting the challenge and moving forward in spite of the risks.
But not this storyteller. "But he [Moses] said, 'O my Lord, please send
someone else.'" (Exod. 4:13). Now the door has been opened for a new figure.
"Then the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses and he said, 'What
of your brother Aaron, the Levite? I know that he can speak fluently; even
now he is coming out to meet you, and when he sees you his heart will be
glad. You shall speak to him and put the words in his mouth; and I will
be with your mouth and with his mouth, and will teach you what to shall
do. He indeed shall speak for you to the people; he shall serve as a mouth
for you...." (Exod. 4:14-16).
If we read this
version of the presentation of Moses and Aaron from the later Zadokite
perspective, after Zadok had been elevated to the position of sole high
priest over the temple, it looks like a story designed to demonstrate God's
choice of Zadok over the temple. It demonstrates, once again, how biblical
narrative can carry multiple voices.
Solomon could dismiss
Abiathar but it is not as easy to dismiss Moses, the genealogical ancestor
of Abiathar. Moses was just too central to the tradition. Still, Zadok's
credentials as a Levite with ancestors connected with Israel's wilderness
experience, chosen by God to speak for him, had to be established. And
it would need to be done in such a way that Moses' honor would be preserved,
while at the same time replacing him in the primary leadership role.
Aaron was the key
to such a retelling of the story, still building on the Mosaic quality
of humility. In this telling of the story, Moses' reticence, while fully
understandable given the enormity of the task, was held on to just a bit
too long. YHWH became impatient with Moses and chose his older brother
Aaron for the job. The narrative tells us YHWH knew Aaron could speak well.
In the description of some of the plagues, we see that Aaron also does
the miracles. Moses, in effect, in this version of the story, has been
promoted upstairs--and out. He has a nice office with a wonderful view,
but no duties. This sounds very similar to the Mushite Levite dilemma.
It was Abiathar's problem. It was the problem of Ahijah of Shiloh in his
dealing with Jeroboam I. Jeremiah was born into a priestly family in Anathoth--the
place to which Abiathar was sent. But, Jeremiah too, was a priest with
no priestly duties.
The point, here,
is that the Zadokites solved the problem of family credentials by linking
Zadok with Aaron, Moses' older brother. To be sure, biblical tradition
often presents a younger son overshadowing an older brother to become a
prominent leader. But if the social and political circumstances required
it, there was always the option of reverting to the standard patriarchal
system of passing the inheritance on to the older brother. David was king
in Hebron, that is, in Judah, for seven years before he moved to rule over
the northern tribes from Jerusalem. Hebron is remembered as an Aaronid
city. And if the Chronicler is correct in listing a certain Zadok from
the Aaronid Levites in Hebron coming to David's support, we have a figure
who is prior to the need for an Abiathar who would give voice to northern
Levitical interests. Zadok now had his credentials; and with them God's
blessing, "[Moses] what of your brother Aaron, the Levite? I know he can
speak fluently....he shall serve as a mouth for you" (Exod. 4:13-16).
I repeat an observation
made earlier about our literary-critical approach to reading the texts
before us. To understand the priesthood and the spirituality of priests,
we must enter into the network of relationships created by the narrative
world of the storytellers. We will see that the priests' relationship to
and perception of kings is part of their sense of who they were. It will
often be the case that a narrative, in either Samuel/Kings or Chronicles--even
though the content is focused on a king--will reflect an assessment of
that king, which embodies the values and spirituality of the priestly family
and implied author telling the story. Fundamental to our approach is the
claim that the stories about kings in Samuel/Kings and Chronicles often
tell us more about priests than they tell us about kings. At the very least
we are seeing the king through the lenses of the storyteller.
The Priesthood in Ancient Israel
We have before us in the Old Testament at least two major styles of spirituality, each with its own collection of sacred stories, and linked to the narrative tradition of a priestly family. Each family believed it was called by God to lead.
Our agenda for the next two chapters will be to examine more closely the inner dynamics of each spiritual pathway. Briefly characterized, the two modes of spirituality on different ends of a continuum could be described as follows. 1) A cluster of late literary strata affirms a center of meaning in Jerusalem/Zion. Within the ordered space of the temple, God consumes his sacrifice (2 Chron. 7:1-3). Believers are called to withdraw into the holy. The sacred is that which purifies. The holy embraces perfection and reaches toward higher discipline. God establishes boundaries. The sacred story moves from vulnerability to stability. The priestly family affirming this vision traced its lineage back through Zadok to Aaron.
2) An earlier cluster
of literary strata affirms a center of meaning in the wilderness/Horeb.
Within the wilderness, God speaks his word from a flaming mountain (Deut.
5). Believers are drawn into relationships. The sacred is that which heals.
The holy embraces imperfection and reaches toward wholeness. God breaks
through boundaries. The sacred story moves from slavery to freedom. The
priestly family affirming this vision traced its lineage back through Abiathar
to Moses.
Because there is more data about priests and Levites in later writings of the Old Testament, the movement of this book takes its clue from archaeology. Excavating a tell requires that the archaeologist begin at the top of a mound which is the period of its latest date. As the search proceeds through the strata into the heart of the mound, one is working backward through time. Once the excavator reaches bedrock, it becomes possible to reconstruct a history of the tell, reorganizing the data into a meaningful, interpretive whole. If we adopt the metaphor of the Hebrew Bible as a stratified mound of literary data, like the archaeologist, the literary critic can proceed through the literary strata backward in time, organizing the data around centers of meaning identified within the respective strata. As it becomes clearer to us where the narrative is headed, we will be on firmer ground to probe the earlier periods where the data are less, and more hypotheses are required.
Our methodology
will be to take sacred story seriously as a means of communicating truths
about one's knowledge of the spiritual life. Our goal will be to locate
a center of meaning within the various strata and from the perspective
of that stance fill out the implications for understanding the spiritual
life. Taken together these literary strata form layers of meaning that
give content to the national epic of Ancient Israel.
1. All translations of texts from Chronicles and 2 Samuel-Kings will be drawn from the synoptic parallels, which has also been translated synoptically, found in John C. Endres, William R. Millar, and John Barclay Burns, eds. et.al., Chronicles and Its Synoptic Parallels in Samuel, Kings, and Related Biblical Texts (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998). Unless indicated, all other translations will come from the New Revised Standard Version, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.
2. Mary Belenky, Blythe Clinchy, Nancy Goldberger, and Jill Tarule, Women's Waysof Knowing (New York: Basic Books, 1986). They have returned to the issue ten years later in a book that collects some essays revisiting some of the proposals offered in 1986 in their book, Nancy Goldberger, Jill Tarule, Blythe Clinchy, and Mary Belenky, Knowledge, Difference, and Power (New York: Basic Books, 1996). For an excellent discussion of the connection between the preached word and voice, see Mary Donovan Turner and Mary Lin Hudson, Saved from Silence: Finding Women's Voice in Preaching (St. Louis, MO: Chalice Press, 1999).
3. Robert Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1989), 19.
5. The phenonmenon is described and discussed in V. N. Volosinov, Marxism and the Philosophy of Language, trans. Ladislav Metejka and I. R. Titunik (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1986), 115-123.
6. For a synoptic parallels that has also been translated synoptically, see John C. Endres, William R. Millar, and John Barclay Burns, eds. et.al., Chronicles and Its Synoptic Parallels in Samuel, Kings, and Related Biblical Texts (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998).
7. We have found useful some of the suggestions for reading a text proposed by the Russian literary critic, Mikhail Bakhtin and members of his school. See, for instance, his discussion of "dialogic imagination" in Mikhail Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky's Poetics, trans. and ed. Caryl Emerson (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984).
8. Especially helpful in this regard is the work on the Deuteronomist by Robert Polzin in what are now three volumes: Robert Polzin, Moses and the Deuteronomist (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1980), __________, Samuel and theDeuteronomist (New York: Harper and Row, 1989), and ___________, Davidand the Deuteronomist (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1993). See particularly the Samuel volume for a discussion of his use of the literary-critical theory of Bakhtin as an aid to interpretation over against other options offered by the more traditional historical-critical approaches to understanding a text.
9. 9Boris Uspensky spells out different planes of perception in his analysis of what he calls a "poetics of composition." His insights are also useful for the biblical interpreter. See Boris Uspensky, A Poetics of Composition, trans. Valentina Zavarin and Susan Wittig (Berkeley, CA: University of California, 1973).
10. An implied author is a term refering to the circumstance where the reader doesn't really know who the author is. This is often the case in biblical texts. Interpreters make proposals based on internal evidence in the text, hence "implied." The implied author and narrator within a text may or may not be the same person. The same problem emerges when trying to determine an audience. The implied audience would be the audience of the implied author. That audience may or may not be the same as the named audience in the text. The reader refers to us as reader of the text.
11. Moses and his older brother Aaron were from the tribe of Levi. They are figures from the wilderness period and therefore 200 years prior to Abiathar and Zadok. Abiathar would be a Levite who traced his lineage back to Moses; Zadok was a Levite who traced his lineage back to Aaron. Also relevant to the discussion that follows is that David's first four sons in order of birth, were Amnon, Absalom, Adonijah, and Solomon. At this point in the narrative, Adonijah is the eldest living son of David.
12. See, for instance, Richard Elliott Friedman, The Hidden Book in the Bible (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1998), 295.
13. All biblical texts except those from 2 Samuel through Kings, are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Chrsit in the U.S.A., unless otherwise indicated.
14. Robert Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, 42-43.
16. For an excellent discussion of reading the sacrificial system, centered at the temple, as a protocol for meals in the presence of God, see Baruch A. Levine, Leviticus, The JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1989), 3-47.
17. To read further on the social organization of tribal and monarchic Israel, see Norman K. Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books 1979), Part VI; and Paula McNutt, Reconstructing the Society of Ancient Israel (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1999). For an excellent discussion of the honor/shame system, see Bruce J. Malina, The New Testament World: Insights from Cultural Anthropology (Revised Edition; Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1993), 28-62.
18. For a readable reconstruction along these lines, see Karen Armstrong, Jerusalem (New York: Ballantine Books, 1997), chapter 3.