"Let the Dead Bury Their Dead"

Matt. 8:22/Luke 9:60 - Jesus and the Halakhah


Let the dead bury their dead.
Lidia M. Shulgina: Let the dead bury their dead., 1989, oil on canvas




SOURCE: Markus Bockmuehl, The Journal of Theological Studies (October 1998)
(Copyright © 1998 Oxford University Press [UK])


Jesus' challenge in Matthew 8:22 par. to 'let the dead bury their own dead' has in recent years attracted a good deal of attention, not least for what it has been thought to reveal about Jesus' attitude to the Jewish Law. Indeed, it is perhaps no exaggeration to claim that this logion has become a kind of shibboleth for the assessment of Jesus' whole relationship with Judaism. The last two or three decades have of course witnessed a gradual rekindling of interest in the first-century Judaean and Galilean setting of Jesus' ministry. Nevertheless, scholars from a wide range of perspectives have continued to regard this saying as evidence that Jesus departed from conventional Jewish Torah piety in significant ways.

My purpose in this study is neither to question that view of Jesus nor to propose a significant reinterpretation of his handling of the Torah. All I expect to do here is to give a brief review of what appears to me a somewhat unsatisfactory state of discussion, and to plead for a more careful debate of the basic issues. I shall leave aside questions of authenticity and redactional analysis, on which I have few quarrels with the major published treatments. My primary conclusion is fairly modest and simple: whatever this logion means, it cannot mean what the current scholarly consensus assumes it to mean. Further study is needed.

THE PREVAILING CONSENSUS

Martin Hengel

Although he follows in the footsteps of other writers like Adolf Schlatter, (2) Martin Hengel may be said to have kicked off the current debate about Matthew 8:22 par. It was in 1968 that he first published a learned study expanded from his original Probevorlesung at Tubingen. In their printed form, his remarks on this subject formed the first chapter of his widely admired book, The Charismatic Leader and His Followers, published in German in 1968 and later in two English editions in 1981 and 1996.

In brief, Hengel's argument is as follows. An opening assessment of the logion's form and redaction history within and beyond the Q tradition suggests that it has been influenced by prophetic call narratives and by a desire to highlight Jesus' imperative command to follow him. In his further analysis, Hengel shows the substantial authenticity of both the logion and its necessary narrative frame in the prospective disciple's request to bury his father. With or without this context, however, it is indeed unlikely that the saying would have been invented in either a Jewish or a Gentile Christian setting. Hengel compares it to similarly drastic and shocking sayings among the Cynics, some of which were previously discussed by H. D. Betz and A. T. Ehrhardt. (3) His conclusion, however, is that one finds here nothing of the didactic polemicism against inherited taboos and conventions which characterizes the supposed Cynic parallels. Instead, our saying shows all the marks of being formulated as an 'ad hoc maxim' (p. 7) comparable to others both in the immediate context (Luke 9:58 par., 9:62) and in the Jewish sapiential tradition. Hengel also dismisses attempts to ratranslate the saying into Aramaic, and it must be conceded that subsequent efforts to do so have failed to be any more persuasive than the ones he commented on in 1968 (see below).

Instead, Hengel's own interpretation moves in a different direction. He asserts quite baldly that our logion 'derives its unique sharpness' from the fact that it encourages 'not only an attack on the respect for parents which is demanded in the fourth commandment but also at the same time it disregarded ... works of love, which according to Ab[oth] 1.2 had an independent place alongside Torah and cultus and yet at the same time had their basis in the Torah'. (4) The argument in support of this assertion is that both pre-rabbinic and rabbinic sources take for granted a halakhic duty to bury the dead, and one's parents a fortiori. He cites a wide range of evidence to document the fact that both Judaism and the wider hellenistic world placed considerable stress on one's obligation to bury the dead.

Hengel concedes that the Torah itself prescribes two exceptions to this command to bury one's parents. Neither High Priests (Lev. 21:11-12) nor Nazirites (Num. 6:6) were allowed to contract corpse impurity even in the case of close relatives, although ordinary priests were permitted this. However, Hengel argues that even the requirements relating to High Priests and Nazirites had become considerably relaxed and relativized by the Tannaitic period, so that 'the interment of a dead person without relatives, enjoined by the commandment [missing Greek text], cancelled even the prohibition on pollution of the high priests and Nazarites [sic] by a corpse'. (5) The evidence for this relaxation is drawn largely from rabbinic sources quoted in Strack-Billerbeck.

Professor Hengel's conclusion seems to follow along familiar supersessionist lines of a law-gospel polarity. By his drastic departure from Jewish law and tradition, Jesus 'expresses his sovereign freedom in respect of the Law of Moses and of custom in general' (p. 11); the present passage is 'a paradigm for all the others' on the law (p. 3). It shows Jesus' 'rejection of ritualism' (p. 11 n. 27) and his 'annulment of the Fourth Commandment' (p. 13 n. 31). Any cultic or ritual considerations are 'in any case far from his thoughts' (p. 11); instead, 'Jesus ... is in sovereign fashion breaking down the barrier of respect for the dead and of custom' (p. 12). In short, 'There is hardly one logion of Jesus which more sharply runs counter to law, piety and custom' (p. 14).


E. P. Sanders

Martin Hengel's assessment of this issue has dominated the discussion over the last thirty years. It is indicative of the state of play that even E. P. Sanders, by no means uncritical of Hengel in other respects, readily accepts his verdict on this issue. Sanders is in general far more reluctant to assert a Jesus at odds with Judaism. In the case of this particular logion, however, he defers entirely to Hengel's argument and agrees that on this occasion Jesus deliberately steps outside contemporary Jewish practice. Sanders closely follows Hengel's presentation of the hellenistic and Jewish sources and concludes that this is 'the most revealing passage in the synoptics for penetrating to Jesus' view of the law'. (6) Its implication is that 'Jesus consciously requires disobedience of a commandment understood by all jews to have been given by God' (1985, p. 254). Sanders allows that one might want to hesitate about a maximalist extrapolation regarding Jesus' antinomian attitude to the law. Nevertheless, he does go on to conclude unequivocally that 'Jesus was prepared, if necessary, to challenge the adequacy of the Mosaic dispensation' (1985, p. 255).


Other Writers

Hengel and Sanders have between them contributed to a consensus to which a very wide range of scholars now subscribe, including both those adhering to conventional views of Jesus and those who view Jesus more deliberately within the context of first-century Judaism. To cite just a smattering of the many recent commentators, for example, one might mention Blomberg, Gnilka and Luz on Matthew and Bovon, Nolland and Schurmann on Luke. (7) Relevant monograph literature follows along similar lines. (8)

For all these and others, it seems true despite occasional differences in detail that Hengel locutus est; causa finita est. Even those few who question the scope of Professor Hengel's conclusion tend nevertheless to take his rabbinic background work for granted, citing Hengel and Strack-Billerbeck. (9)


ASSESSMENT OF THE CASE FOR THE PREVAILING CONSENSUS

What might be said by way of evaluation? In a good many respects, Professor Hengel has clearly advanced the discussion considerably, and his learned treatment justly occupies a prominent position in the secondary literature. His impressively wide-ranging survey of the relevant background material serves to demonstrate the fundamentally Jewish setting of the logion, and he confirms the long-standing claim that this saying would indeed have been unusually demanding and shocking in a first-century Palestinian setting. His comments on the likely authenticity and redaction of the saying also seem to me largely on target, (10) as does his argument that on balance 'the dead' to whom the burial is left should be seen as the metaphorically dead. (11) Hengel and the commentators who cite him also seem justified in resisting interpretations designed to domesticate what is on any reckoning one of the 'hard sayings' of the Jesus tradition.

In this connection Professor Hengel may even be right to reject Aramaic retroversion attempts, though perhaps he does so a little too hastily. It is an unfortunate fact that most of the twentieth-century proposals seem to have been motivated less by linguistic and exegetical concerns than by a desire to show that the logion must mean something other than what it seems to mean. (12) As a result, one encounters a good deal of wishful and anachronistic linguistics. As David Goldenberg (1996, p. 74) rightly points out in his recent reply to Herbert Basser's (1993) contribution on the subject: 'The major problem in retroverting to Jesus' original speech lies in proving that the targeted vocabulary was part of the spoken lexical base of the time.' This is not of course to assert that an Aramaic original never existed, merely that it is in many cases impossible to offer a confident and reliable reconstruction. At the same time, and pace Hengel, it still seems to me worth noting the linguistically neutral and elegant solution proposed by Dalman and later picked up by Jeremias: (13) [missing Greek text]. This may not bear a great deal of exegetical fruit, but it does at least acknowledge the legitimacy of asking about an Aramaic substratum.

My main argument here, however, is that the evidence cited by Professors Hengel, Sanders and others does not support their conclusions. The two main points of my critique will address their dating and interpretation of rabbinic sources. No one would deny that burial of the dead was, in the first century viewed as a universal duty and an important act of kindness, and that not to be buried was widely considered the ultimate disgrace. (14) It is plausible, too, that the duty of burial would be particularly invoked where the fifth commandment was at stake.

Two problems arise, however, in the documentation of the claim that this requirement was viewed as being of such paramount importance that even the Torah's prohibitions for High Priests and Nazirites had been relaxed.


Dating the Evidence

All the sources Professor Hengel adduces are Tannaitic at the earliest, and cannot be dated with confidence before the beginning of the third century. It will not do to cite references to Yose ben Yoezer in the Mishnah (Eduy. 8.4) and Talmud (b.A.Z. 37b) as 'attesting' (15) the actual state of halakhah in the early Maccabean period. This is especially true in view of the notoriously enigmatic tenor of Yose ben Yoezer's evidently liberalizing original statement, 'He that touches a corpse becomes unclean' (m.Eduy. 8.4). That saying was probably intended to limit corpse contamination to direct contact, but in any case it originally had nothing to do with a relaxation in requirements pertaining to the High Priest or to Nazirites.

The problem of dating rabbinic traditions need not ordinarily be an insurmountable problem, as long as one can establish a credible continuum of tradition which links the later with demonstrably earlier evidence. Precisely such a link, however, is not to my knowledge extant in this case. And this lacuna is all the more significant in that it relates to two institutions - the (temporary) Nazirite and the High Priesthood - which abruptly ceased to operate with the destruction of the Temple. (16) In the absence of more specific early evidence, we cannot simply assume second- or third-century rabbinic halakhah to have been in force in the first century.


Interpreting the Evidence

Secondly, however, and contrary to Hengel's assertion, even the Tannaitic evidence he cites does not in fact amount to a relaxation of the Pentateuchal law. Instead, it merely affirms a halakhic priority within the Torah, in keeping with a general Hillelite tendency to stress core commandments and the agent's moral intention. Where there are no other relatives and the dead person would otherwise remain unburied, the written requirement of burial (e.g. Deut. 21:23; cf. Gen. 23:4-20; 47:29-30; 49:29-30; Sir. 38.16; Qoh. 6.3) (17) takes precedence over the demands both of a High Priest's duty (note Sifra Lev. 21.11 ([sections] 211); b.Naz. 47b) and of a Nazirite's optional vow (m.Naz. 6.5; Sifre Num. 6.6 ([sections] 26)).

Significantly, not one of the rabbinic sources cited by Professor Hengel and Strack-Billerbeck makes an allowance for High Priests or Nazirites specifically in order to bury parents. (18) Most of them deal either with the general duty of burial or with the specific case of ordinary priests, of whom the law does of course in any case require the burial of close relatives. (19) The cited exemptions for High Priests and Nazirites apply only to the very specific case of the [missing Greek text], i.e. the burial of those with no one else to bury them. (20) The biblical prohibition of burying parents, by contrast, is explicitly and repeatedly re-affirmed in Philo, (21) Josephus (22) and in every one of the relevant rabbinic discussions. (23) And the Nazirite rules about corpse defilement are broadly in keeping with those spelled out in the tractates Ohalot and Kelim, which would in practice rule out not only direct contact but also, for example, joining the mourners in the house of the deceased. (24)

The Dead Sea Scrolls appear to lack any direct discussions of Lev. 21:11 or Num. 6:6, although two biblical MSS containing Lev. 21:11 survive (25) and there are Aramaic fragments of several relevant passages in Tobit. (26) It may be that the sectarian boycott of the Temple at Jerusalem ruled out temporary Nazirite vows. (27) Instead, one finds various conventional assertions about the need for lawful burial, including statements about 'building the tombs of our fathers'. (28)

At the same time, there is other sectarian evidence to suggest the existence of a more rigorist position. The laws about corpse impurity in the Temple Scroll imply that the Qumran sect may have extended the Torah's priestly regulations on this matter to all members of the community. (29) More specifically, a relatively severe position would be entirely consistent with Josephus' account of the Essene requirement to break with one's family except under strict supervision. (30) Archaeological evidence confirms that Essenes or related groups avoided the protracted procedure of secondary burial, and consistently used individual rather than family tombs both at the Dead Sea sites of Qumran, Jericho, Ein el-Ghuweir and Hiam el-Sagha, and in the apparently sectarian cemeteries discovered at East Talpiot and most recently at Gilo, near Jerusalem. (31) Although they do not constitute formal evidence, these practices would be entirely compatible with a reduced emphasis on family ties and the obligation to bury one's next of kin (cf. also Hachlili 1993, p. 263).

What is more, there are reasonable grounds to doubt the broad acceptance in first-century halakhah of the particular Tannaitic exception for High Priests and Nazirites in the case of the 'abandoned corpse', even if the general principle of burying the unattended dead as an act of kindness is clearly attested at least since the book of Tobit. (32) Philo for one, entirely omits the concession of the [missing Greek text] (i.e. the abandoned corpse) from his discussions of the Torah passages about the High Priest (Lev. 21:11) and about the Nazirite (Num. 6:6), while unambiguously reiterating in both cases the prohibition of burying parents. (33)

Additional doubt is cast on the state of first-century halakhah on this matter by the discussion in Mishnah Nazir 7.1 That passage records considerable disagreement between the late first-century R. Eliezer b. Hyrcanus and his colleagues about whether even an unattended corpse should exempt the Nazirite and the High Priest from maintaining their purity at all costs. It seems that the universal mandate of the abandoned corpse may not have been formalized until the early Tannaitic period, when it came to be grounded in the requirement of Lev. 21:1 that a priest may not incur corpse impurity [missing Greek text], i.e. when he is 'among his people'. The unattended dead whom a priest might come across in the open countryside was by implication excluded. (34) Intriguingly, even the Parable of the Good Samaritan may imply that the principle of the unattended corpse was not in fact universally recognized in pre-70 halakhah: seeing a man who was 'half dead' [Eta Mu Iota Theta Alpha Nu Eta], the priest and the Levite take the precaution of walking by 'on the other side' - presumably in order to avoid overshadowing a potential corpse and thereby contracting impurity which would ritually disqualify them from their temple duties (Luke 10:30-32).

It is, incidentally, far from clear that the hypothetical case of the neglected corpse is the situation envisioned in Matthew 8:22 par., regardless of whether the father is assumed to be near death or just deceased. (35) J. A. Bengel's passing surmise that there may have been other sons (ad Matt. 8.22; Cf. similarly Derrett 1985, p. 77) is by no means the far-fetched rationalization that a number of commentators have accused it of being. The point in our context is simply the inquirer's request to honour the widely attested expectation (cf. e.g. Tobit 6:13-15; m.Ket. 11.1 etc.) that children should provide for their ageing parents' burial. It is children who are in the first instance responsible for the burial of their parents, as indeed honouring one's parents was one of the 'acts of kindness' [mising Greek text] which have no prescribed limit (m.Peah 1.1). To tend the unburied could even be conceived in imitation of God, who clothes the naked, visits the sick, comforts the mourner and, in the case of Moses, buries the dead (b. Sot. 14a; cf. Deut. 34:6). (36) Given this high regard, burial of one's parents could indeed be set aside only in the most exceptional circumstances. It is the apparent denial of this most basic act of charity that gives Jesus' statement its undeniably shocking directness. Nevertheless, the present scenario of burying a parent is likely to be a different matter from that of an abandoned corpse, as indeed these two situations are always distinguished in the relevant rabbinic discussions.


Interpreting the Interpreters

In the end it seems that a thinly disguised theological agenda drives the prevailing exegesis of the passage. This of course is inevitable for most of us, and not inherently problematic. What matters is to try and perceive how it affects one's reading of the evidence.

While Professor Hengel assures his readers that Jesus was not in principle opposed to works of kindness, he is just as certain that 'any casuistic legal codification was repugnant to him' (1996, p. 9, n. 21). Jesus, we are told, categorically rejected ritualism (1996, p. 11, n. 27). His answer to this potential disciple 'in a unique way expresses his sovereign freedom in respect of the Law of Moses and of custom in general'; 'any cultic or ritual basis was ... far from his thoughts' 1996, p. 11). Quite how we know all this about Jesus' thoughts is not clear. Tertullian, who pointed out the saying's point of contact with the Old Testament laws about High Priests and Nazirites, is summarily pigeon-holed as 'the lawyer Tertullian'. (37)

Is it unreasonable to see here traces of that age-old platonizing Christian cliche, according to which the pure gospel of Jesus, untainted by the trappings of law and religion, triumphs over the casuistry and ritual of Judaism? Especially in their more recent works, Professors Hengel and Sanders have clearly shown themselves to be far less prone to such facile historical dichotomies than some of those who quote them. Nevertheless, their conclusions on this subject still seem to echo the contrast of gospel versus law, sovereign grace versus ritual observance, Jesus versus Judaism - a polarity which in its undiluted form could be traced from its invention by followers of Paul to its systematic endorsement by Marcion and his various ancient and modern sympathizers.

Could it be that, by hastily sweeping the legal context of Jesus' saying under the carpet, the dominant interpretation has in fact missed an important clue to its possible background of meaning? Post-war New Testament scholarship found in the 'criterion of dissimilarity' an opportune peg, whose ideological convenience far outstripped its rather flawed and limited use as an indicator of the authentic Jesus. It is disturbing to note how apologists for both liberalism and confessional conservatism have continued to assume the a priori likelihood of assertions about Jesus' radical distinctiveness vis-a-vis a Torah-centred Judaism. The implausibility of occasional Jewish and other programmes to assert a wholly observant and uncontroversial Jesus should not prevent us from adopting a pragmatic posture that will assess each case on its own merits.

We come, then, to the first of my two major conclusions for this paper. It is a largely negative one, and perhaps the only one that can be stated with some degree of confidence: Matthew 8:22 par. is unlikely to mean what the prevailing consensus takes it to mean. Its undeniably provocative flavour notwithstanding, the assumed radical contrast with any and all Jewish halakhah begins to evaporate on closer examination.


POSSIBLE WAYS FORWARD

Where might this leave us with regard to the interpretation of our saying? Three options remain open.


A Renewed Case for the Consensus?

First, it must be admitted that logically the consensus view might still be correct. It is indeed possible that Jesus deliberately shocks his potential disciple with a saying designed to stress that his kingdom-centred ministry and identity entitle him to a sovereign autonomy from Torah and tradition. My contention here is simply that while theoretically conceivable, the case for this view remains to be made - and the evidence commonly adduced for it does not support the conclusion.

If this first explanation fails, however, the meaning of our text becomes more, rather than less, difficult.


Reinterpretation as Prophetic Drama?

A second option, not wholly incompatible with the first, would be that Jesus simply provokes the potential inquirer to a symbolic action of prophetic significance. Just as Jeremiah was instructed to boycott all mourning of the dead in order to symbolize the coming disaster for Judah and Jerusalem (Jer. 16:5-9), so Ezekiel became a sign of the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple by not mourning the death of his wife (Ezek. 24:16-24). These prophetic parallels are widely acknowledged; even Professor Hengel rightly warms to them (1996, p. 12). Usually, of course, they are construed in classic Wellhausenian fashion as standing outside or even in opposition to the legal tradition of the Pentateuch (so also Hengel). We need hardly point out, however, that they were certainly not understood in this fashion by Jesus or anyone else in Second Temple Judaism, whatever one might make of their literary origin.

Nevertheless, prophetic drama of this kind is certainly a conceivable explanation. Several incidents in the gospel tradition can be helpfully understood as symbolic actions, perhaps especially Jesus' cleansing of the Temple and the institution of the Last Supper. (38) At the same time, it is by no means clear that the present logion qualifies under the same heading. Unlike the events in Jerusalem, the present incident concerns not Jesus' own action but his command to a follower. Those other two episodes also differ from our logion in being accompanied by unambiguous words of explanation, like most of the prophetic actions of the Old Testament prophets. (39) More importantly, no action is in fact reported as having been carried out. Instead, our saying is kept deliberately terse and gnomic, either to maintain a sense of enigma or perhaps more likely because it is assumed to be self-interpreting. Finally, it is worth noting that even if the prophetic drama genre were appropriate, such a parallel would in any case provide no comfort to an interpretation of our passage as showing Jesus in deliberate breach or suspension of the Law. Neither the biblical prophets themselves nor the ancient Jewish versions and interpretations portray their parabolic actions as overriding or contradicting the Torah.


A Third Option?

We must obviously leave open the possibility that someone might come up with a better argument for the Hengel/Sanders consensus, whether on the grounds of established halakhah or on those of a prophet's provocative action. Meanwhile, however, we shall devote the final part of this paper to another interpretative context. If this uninterpreted saying does not intend a radical rejection of Jewish law and tradition, what else might it have been assumed to mean in the first-century setting? The following remarks on this subject are brief and somewhat experimental, deliberately intended as an entree to further discussion rather than as a full-blown hypothesis.

My proposal here will be to focus on one of the two mandatory legal exemptions from the duty to bury one's parents. By taking a halakhic approach I do not of course mean that Jesus' teaching should be read in keeping with the academic genre of halakhic discourse, nor indeed that this is the primary perspective even in this episode. Jesus was neither rabbi nor scribe, and there is little point in denying the obvious harshness of his saying when compared with the attitudes in texts like Tobit. Nevertheless, if one accepts that Jesus was in some meaningful sense conversant with the cultural and religious milieu of first-century Palestine, then the issue of his relationship to the traditions of Judaism cannot simply be subsumed under the later image of Jesus as the revealer of a radical nova lex. I have attempted elsewhere to document the extent to which the Jesus tradition continues to manifest a significant halakhic awareness, if only as a natural reflection of the general setting in which it originated and continued to function for some time (cf. Bockmuehl 1996).

Of the two Old Testament legal traditions discussed above, the high priestly one may be safely set aside for present purposes. Although it is of course true that some circles in the early church came to view both Jesus and in a different sense James the Just in high priestly categories, there is no evidence that this aspect features either in the original episode or in its redactional treatment by Matthew and Luke. (40) Any sacerdotal overtones would here arise only by secondary analogy from a Nazirite link, if that could be demonstrated.

Here, then, I would like to propose for further discussion the possibility that the most likely subtext in the earliest setting of our logion may be found in Nazixite motifs. Although occasionally mooted, (41) this has to my knowledge never been seriously considered in the secondary literature. If the 'Jesus versus the Law' scenario cannot be sustained, might this possibility offer a way forward?


NAZIRITE HALAKHAH

A Nazirite connection seems at first sight to be so far-fetched as to render any discussion unnecessary. There is no evidence in the gospels that either Jesus or his disciples manifested the obvious signs of Nazirite devotion. Far from being a teetotaller, Jesus seems to have been a frequent guest at feasts and developed a reputation for being a 'glutton and a wine-bibber' (Matt. 11:19 par.). The gospels are not interested in the length of his hair or that of his disciples, and there is no apparent concern about corpse impurity either at the house of Jairus (Mark 5:22-43), at Nain (Luke 7:11-15) or at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:1-44). (42) More clearly still, we find no reference to the appointed sacrifices marking the end of a Nazirite vow.

What point, then, might there be in seeking a Nazirite explanation of our logion? Probably very little, if the question is put as directly as that: there is nothing to suggest that either Jesus or his inquirer are speaking as Nazirites.

There are, however, a number of additional contextual observations to be taken into account, beginning with the redactional triplet of sayings about radical discipleship in which our logion appears (Matt. 8:19-22; Luke 9:57-62). It is certainly in keeping with what we know of Jesus' teaching about discipleship that he described membership in the kingdom of God by adopting various images of radical dedication. These include resolutely setting out to plough a field, leaving behind one's family, having no home to sleep in, planning to build a large building, going to war against a superior enemy, and even taking up one's cross daily to follow Jesus like a condemned criminal going to his execution. (This last has been thought a possible adaptation from a slogan of Jewish militant nationalists. (43)) In all these and similar cases, a concrete and familiar image is used to illustrate his challenge to 'bring one's life to a point' by investing all that one is and has in the service of God.

If such a reading is even approximately correct, however, it would in a first-century Jewish context make Nazirite connotations or comparisons eminently plausible. It is worth illustrating this briefly, both from a Jewish and from an early Christian perspective.


The Old Testament and Judaism

Not only Samson (44) (Judg. 13:7) but Samuel, too, was regarded as a lifelong Nazirite, as is clear already in the [4QSam.sup.a] and LXX texts of 1 Sam. 1:11, 22. (45) Both in biblical and in subsequent Jewish thought, Nazirites were regarded as uniquely dedicated to God, and temporarily comparable in status to priests, as both alike are pure and 'holy to the Lord' (note Lev. 21:6 with Num. 6:8). (46) Philo, in fact, explicitly affirms that Nazirites were for the duration of their 'Great Vow' to consider themselves as priests in active service ([Tau Omicron Nu Chi Rho Omicron Nu Omicron Nu Epsilon Kappa Iota Nu Omicron Nu Iota Epsilon Rho Alpha Sigma Theta Alpha Iota], Spec. Leg. 1.249). Philo speaks of the Nazirite vow in exalted theological terms: the supreme offering that transcends ordinary material offerings is the consecration of oneself, which demonstrates an inexpressible piety and an abundant love of God. As in Tannaitic midrash, the Nazirite vow manifests the dedication of oneself to God: 'This is why this practice is rightly called the Great Vow: for the greatest possession which anyone has is himself'. (47) The Nazirite's ritual purity, too, symbolizes his complete devotion to God, and Philo compares the case of inadvertent corpse defilement to that of being caught in unintentional sins (Agric. 176). A popular if somewhat enigmatic story told of the, High Priest Simeon the Just's (third century BC) encounter with a handsome young Nazirite confirms that this vow was indeed understood as a symbol of sanctification and personal devotion to God. (48) In discussing why the passage about the Nazirite (Num. 6:1-21) follows immediately on that about the unfaithful wife (Num. 5:11-31), one Tannaitic passage advises that anyone who happens to see a woman engaging in adulterous ways should immediately abstain from wine. (49) This spiritual and even penitential dimension of the Nazirate was perhaps already implicit in the fact that the prescribed offerings in the Torah included in each case a sacrifice for sin ([missing Greek text], Num. 6:11, 14, 16). (50)

Despite the considerable personal and financial cost incurred by those who undertook them, Nazirite vows were clearly very popular in certain circles during the later Second Temple Period. Various sources speak of large numbers of Nazirites arriving at the Temple in fulfilment of their vows. (51)

This popularity of the practice is also indirectly confirmed by the highly developed halakhah assumed in the Mishnah and Tosefta: the tractate Nazir (cf. t. Nezirut) offers numerous detailed regulations and conditions for the form and conduct of Nazirite vows. And despite the abrupt demise of temporary Nazirite vows after the events of AD 70 (52) there still exists a significant Gemara on the subject in both Talmuds, perhaps because Nazir was a special topic within the larger and abiding subject of Nedarim ('vows'), which immediately precedes it in the Mishnaic sequence of tractates. (53)

What is more, the fact that both Nazir and Nedarim appear in the Mishnaic Order Nashim ('women') suggests the immense attraction which Nazirite and other vows evidently exerted over a great many women as well as men - perhaps because they offered to layfolk of both sexes and all walks of life a temporary share in quasi-priestly status, by means of a particularly engaging and respected expression of personal faith. Not only Queen Helena of Adiabene and Miriam of Palmyra but even Agrippa II's otherwise not especially religious sister Berenice came to Jerusalem to bring her Nazirite offerings; indeed she stayed on past the outbreak of the Jewish revolt in AD 66. (54)

A good deal of corroborating evidence could be cited to document the popularity of Nazirite and related ascetic practices. Nazirites were evidently held in high respect, as is clear from the fact that their sons could be named after them. Thus a splendid aristocratic family tomb at Mount Scopus has revealed the first-century ossuaries of one 'Hananiah son of Jonathan the Nazirite' and of 'Salome wife of Hananiah son of the Nazirite'; quite possibly it also contains the sarcophagi of Jonathan himself along with his wife. (55) Here is a man from the time of Jesus who permanently bore the epithet [missing Greek text] ('the Nazirite'), whether because of repeated short-term vows or a life-long vow, and who even bequeathed that name to his son and daughter-in-law. Pseudo-Philo's Biblical Antiquities show a sustained interest in Samson (e.g. 42.3), while various traditions about the mysterious tee-totalling Rechabites of Jeremiah 35 appear to have been popular in the Tannaitic period. (56) Abstention from wine and meat mark Reuben's repentance in T. Reub. 1.10. Rules about a variety of more general fasts and fast days abound, not least in documents like Megillat Taanit and the Mishnah tractate Taanit. (57) In case a date in the late first or early second century is possible, we should also note the controversial wisdom text from the Cairo Genizah edited first by Klaus Berger (1989) and then again in somewhat polemical mode by Hans-Peter Ruger (1991). That text commends the Nazirite's fast over against the 'pleasure of the world' (5-3), (58) and manifests a deliberate contrast between the joy of wine and the pleasures of this world (6.2-3) on the one hand, and the joy of the Torah on the other (6-4). Finally, Epiphanius speaks of a pre-Christian Jewish group whom he variously calls Na[Sigma]apaioi (Haer. 19-5) and Na[Sigma]apaioi (Haer. 29-7); the former at any rate are presented as a distinct religious party alongside the Sadducees, Essenes and others.

All in all, there can be no doubt about the popularity of Nazirite vows and practices as a significant manifestation of Jewish piety in the later Second Temple Period. This is particularly worth noting inasmuch as prominent New Testament scholars have been known to assert in print that at the time of Jesus there were no Nazirites at all. (59)


Jesus and the Gospels

Evidence of early Christian interest in Nazirite motifs is inconsistent, but remarkably intriguing. In Luke, John the Baptist's birth is announced somewhat like that of Samson: we hear that he would abstain from wine and strong drink for life (Luke 1:15; cf. 7:33 par.). But no such statement is made about Jesus.

Matthew's infancy narrative has sometimes been thought to be toying with a Nazirite connection in the fulfilment formula at 2:23 [missing Greek text]." (60) His vague citation, however, suggests (a) that Matthew is deliberately evoking rather than quoting from the Old Testament and (b) that the precise textual link may be somewhat tenuous in his own mind. In any case he wants of course to prove a prophetic link with Nazareth, not with Nazirites. Elsewhere, too, Jesus is typically identified as 'the Nazorean' [missing Greek text], (61) but Nazirite associations are notoriously difficult to substantiate.

Unlike John the Baptist, Jesus and his followers do not as a rule show ascetic tendencies (Luke 5:33; 7:34 parr.); this alone should urge a considerable reluctance in interpreting the identification of Jesus and the early Christians as 'Nazoreans' in even vaguely Nazirite terms, as e.g. Klaus Berger (1996) has most recently done.

In the context of the Last Supper, however, Jesus utters a vow, attested in all three synoptic gospels, which in its first-century context would have unmistakable Nazirite connotations: 'I shall not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God' (Mark 14:25 parr.). It is worth comparing this declaration with the relevant criteria in Mishnah Nazir, which regards it as a sufficient declaration of Nazirite intent to say about a filled cup on the table, 'I will abstain from this' (m.Naz. 2.3). Similarly, an eschatological reference may be paralleled in vows such as, 'Let me be a Nazirite on the day when the son of David shall come' (b.Erub. 43a).

It is possible that the somewhat cumbersome phrase 'produce of the vine' [missing Greek text] rather than merely 'wine' is of some significance. As it stands, it echoes the rabbinic term [missing Greek text] ('fruit of the vine', e.g. m.Ber. 6.1) but is not paralleled in the LXX or in biblical Hebrew. If it is not simply an early occurrence of the Mishnaic idiom, it may be in keeping with the regulations for Nazirites, who were to abstain from every product derived from grapes (Num. 6:4 [missing Greek text], i.e. LXX [missing Greek text], explicitly including vinegar, seeds and skins (Num. 6:3-4).

Regardless of this matter of detail, however, there exists an interesting correlation with a well-known crux of the passion narrative, viz. the question of whether Jesus does or does not accept the drink offered to him on the cross. All four gospels mention such an episode, but each handles it differently. Mark and Matthew in fact have two incidents: the first is before the crucifixion, the Roman executioners' offer of wine (oivov) scented with myrrh (gall in Matthew), probably to numb the pain (Mark 15:23/Matt. 27:34). In the second incident, an anonymous bystander presents Jesus on the point of death with a sponge dipped in vinegar (o[Xi]os, Mark 15:36/Matt 27:48). In the former case Mark's Jesus pointedly refuses the offer, while Matthew's tastes but then rejects it. In the latter, it is unclear whether in fact he drinks any of it before expiring with a loud cry. Luke has only the soldiers' initial offer of vinegar (23:36, [missing Greek text]). John's Jesus openly announces that he is thirsty, 'in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled' (19:28, [missing Greek text]). Someone brings him [missing Greek text] a spongeful of vinegar; he takes it and then expires with the words, 'It has been fulfilled' (19:29-30).

For an assessment of these passages it is vital to note that the phrase [missing Greek text] ('they gave me vinegar to drink') occurs in LXX Ps. 68.22 (= 69:21), a Psalm of individual lament which influenced the composition of the passion narrative. Given this Old Testament formulation, the tradition's emphasis on the prophetic fulfilment theme accounts adequately for the tensions between the gospels. Without denying the possibility that the Marcan double tradition might be early, the redactional trend would be to enhance the links with Psalm 69 and thus to downplay Jesus' refusal of the offer of vinegar. Precisely that refusal, however, would make excellent sense in the light of his Nazirite vow at the Last Supper.


The Rest of the New Testament

Nazirite vows remain similarly marginal elsewhere in the New Testament, except for some interesting hints in Acts. Although Luke's reliability on this point has been doubted, there are good reasons for thinking that Paul was under a Nazirite vow while at Corinth (Acts 18:18; note Koet 1996; Horn 1997). He cuts his hair while still abroad at the port of Cenchreae, although we do not know whether this is because he had completed his vow (62) or because that vow had in fact lapsed as a result of corpse impurity (Num. 6:9-12). Paul then drops off Aquila and Priscilla at Ephesus and proceeds straight to the Holy Land, making a special journey to Jerusalem (and presumably the temple) on his way back to Antioch (18:21-22). Later, his purpose in going up to Jerusalem is to 'bring gifts of charity to my people and offerings...in the temple' (24:17-18). He undergoes the appropriate seven-day purification (21:26-27; cf. 24:18; m.Naz. 7-3; b.Naz. 54b; Philo Spec. 3.205) and prepares to pay for the requisite sacrifices for four poor Christian Nazirites who are just coming to the conclusion of their vows (21:23-26; cf. 24:17-18). It is unclear whether he offers the Nazirite sacrifices for himself, too; certainly Mishnaic halakhah suggests that anyone coming from outside the Land would have had to spend at least another standard period of thirty days as a Nazirite before being able to complete a valid vow. (63)

Other Nazirite allusions in the New Testament are few and far between. It has occasionally been suggested that the 'weak' Christians of Romans 14-15 might be Nazirites because of their abstention from wine and meat. Nazirites, however, do not abstain from wine for reasons of purity (Rom. 14:14, 20; Cf. Dan. 1:8), and are unlikely to take offence because others drink wine (14:21). Abstention from meat is not expected in either written or oral Torah, although some might vow to abstain from it. John the Baptist, for instance, ate no meat except locusts, which like fish were not considered meat and were explicitly allowed to those who had vowed to abstain from meat (m.Hul. 8.1). (64) The abstention of Romans 14-15 is more likely related to concerns about the possible contamination of food purchased from Gentiles. (65)


Other Early Christian Evidence

A puzzling and widely debated interest in Nazirite matters continued in early Christianity, and came in due course to be associated with the early monastic movement. (66) Presumably following the precedent of Jesus 'the Nazorean', Jews are quoted in Acts 24:5 as including Paul and other Christians in 'the sect of the Nazoreans'. (67) The precise meaning of this term has been widely debated and cannot be fully discussed here. Suffice it to say that on purely philological grounds the connection with Nazareth, favoured by a variety of writers since Epiphanius (Haer. 29.6), (68) seems less close than that with the Septuagint's term [missing Greek text] (Judg. 13:5; 16:17; Lam. 4:7; 1 Macc. 3:49). (69) Certainly the vast majority of Jewish Christians were not, and were not perceived to be, from Nazareth; nor was first- or second-century Nazareth a prominent centre of Christianity. The other favoured explanation in terms of the word [missing Greek text] 4:2; 11:1; Zeph. 3:8; 6:12) suffers from being still more remote philologically, and from a lack of relevant explanation or citations in the New Testament. (70) Yet another possibility is that the word simply renders the later rabbinic term for Christians, [unknown text], which could mean something like 'watchers' or 'observers' (e.g. of the Torah: see Prov. 28:7). (71)

At the end of the day it must be admitted that the resolution of this matter probably remains outside our grasp for the time being. But regardless of the intricacies of the terminological argument, patristic sources agree that the different groups known as Nazoreans or Nazarenes included above all Jewish Christians, whose beliefs are variously described and whose practices do not necessarily overlap with those of classic Jewish Nazirites. A similarly intriguing thread seems to run from the previously cited traditions about the Rechabites to the early Christian hermits and the Story of Zosimus. (72)

Perhaps the most directly relevant piece of the patristic puzzle for our purposes is Hegesippus's partly legendary description of James the Just, who strongly resembles the lifelong vegetarian Nazirite (cf. the 'Nazirite like Samson' m.Naz. 1.2): James was holy from his mother's womb, drank no wine and ate no meat, and did not cut his hair (Eus. EH 2.23.5). (73)


Summary of the Evidence

The practice of Nazirite vows, whether formally or informally contracted, (74) was extremely popular in first-century Palestine, apparently common among both the lower classes and the well-to-do. Nazirites were a well-known phenomenon wherever observant Jews lived and congregated; and long-term or life-long Nazirites with their distinctive long hair would have been a familiar sight in public places. In this context, the Mishnah shows that the popularity of Nazirite practices had generated a whole range of popular idioms, allusions and modes of conduct which formed a basic cultural staple that would be widely recognizable. At any one time there were members of the community whose distinctive priest-like dedication to God was often apparent by their hair, who abstained from wine and whose obligation to purity before God was greater even than their duty to their parents.

Spiritually, Nazirite vows offered to non-priestly Jews (whether male or female, Num. 6:2) an opportunity to dedicate themselves voluntarily to God in a tangible way for either a short or a longer period. Philo's interpretation of the custom is highly suggestive in this respect, as we saw; but later rabbinic homiletical developments also favour such an understanding. Thus the story cited earlier about Simeon the Just (third century BC) illustrates the fact that the Nazirate is to be undertaken only 'for the Lord' (Num 6:2), as being of benefit in defeating human pride. (75) Num. R. similarly interprets the Nazirite's long hair in terms of moral grief and compunction, designed to defeat the evil impulse and to keep oneself free from sin; (76) in God's eyes this dedication makes the Nazirite the equal of the High Priest (10.11).

Socially, the Nazirite institution invited an unusual degree of solidarity across class boundaries. This is evident in the common practice of wealthier citizens defraying the expenses of poorer Nazirites. Just as Simeon b. Shetach with his brother-in-law Alexander Jannaeus had done this for 300 Nazirites (y.Ber. 7.2, 11b40-45) and Herod Agrippa for others (Josephus Ant. 19.294), so Paul did this for four Jewish Christians who had come to Jerusalem to complete their vows.


CONCLUSION

Jesus had no family of his own, and no fixed abode; his message and ministry manifested and called for the sort of discipleship that put the kingdom of God before familial obligations: 'whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me' (Matt. 10:37 par.; cf. 12:50 par.). Somewhat unusually but no doubt symbolically, Jesus himself abstained from marriage - as did other first-century Jews. (77) Perhaps because of his early position as a follower of the more visibly Nazirite John the Baptist, Jesus came to be popularly identified by the epithet 'the Nazorean'. The fact that he nevertheless did not on the whole abstain from wine and meat, as John had done, apparently caused a certain amount of puzzlement an required explanation. His message and lifestyle nonetheless remained a radical one, which shared with the Nazirite way of life a comprehensive vision of holiness (note Num. 6:5, 8) and purity as constituted by God. (78) And although Jesus is frequently seen to be at odds with more 'lenient' pharisaic interpretations of the Torah, even his own divergent views in fact almost always remain within the range of attested halakhic positions.

In this context, Jesus' challenge to a prospective (79) disciple to 'let the dead bury their own dead' would certainly raise eyebrows. But it is by no means necessary or even plausible to see it as a significant attack on the Torah, or even as deliberately requiring disobedience to it (so Hengel, Sanders). Instead, the notion of a special religious duty transcending even basic family obligations is one that would have been culturally familiar to Jesus' audience, regardless of whether they agreed with him or not. In the broader context of widespread Nazirite practice, therefore, the saying easily fits into a series of calls to discipleship illustrated from scenes of contemporary life, as we saw above (p. 566). It is at the same time consistent with Jesus' radical but complex reassessment of family ties vis-a-vis a variety of contemporary Jewish assumptions, as attested by passages like Mark 3:31-5 par.; 10:28-31 par. on the one hand and Mark 1:29-31 par.; 7:8-13 par. on the other.

Our conclusion, therefore, is twofold: first, there is no evidence to substantiate the assumption of a major clash between Jesus' saying and a contemporary halakhah that had supposedly relaxed even the biblical prohibitions for High Priests and Nazirites. As a result, the supposedly paradigmatic function of this logion as indicative of a radical critique of the Torah is without substance.

Our second conclusion is more tentative. Despite the ambiguity surrounding terms such as 'the Nazorean (s)', it is clear that various early Jewish Christians did manifest distinct Nazirite interests, and indeed that Jesus himself appears to have uttered a Nazirite vow on the eve of his execution. This evidence is too weak to support a direct Nazirite setting for Matt. 8:22 par., but it does provide a plausible Jewish context in which the instruction to 'let the dead bury their own dead' can be understood by way of analogy.

There is no doubt that within the broad bounds of late Second Temple Judaism, Jesus' charismatic and unconventional ministry would have appeared daring and provocative to some observers. Nor is there any doubt of the essential 'shock value' of Jesus' saying, even in its clearly ad hoc and ad hominem setting comparable in tone and substance to the charge given to the 'rich young ruler' (Mark 10:21 par.).

Professors Hengel, Sanders and others have laid valuable groundwork for any future study of the text. Their interpretative conclusions for Jesus' attitude to the Law, however, do not stand up to closer scrutiny. This paper has presented a moderate case for supposing that a broadly Nazirite symbolism may turn out to make acceptable sense of the saying's first-century Jewish setting. That setting may make it mean little more than, 'Those who are wholly consecrated to God have even more important things to do.' (80) Regardless of the merits of that particular hypothesis, however, it seems on balance highly probable that causa non finita est.
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(1) This study was first presented in August 1997 to the Historical Jesus seminar of the Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas meeting at the University of Birmingham. I wish to thank the members of the seminar for their helpful observations, and Dr. W. Horbury and Mr. R. C. Beaton for valuable comments on an early draft.

(2) See Klemm (1969) for the history of earlier interpretation.

(3) Cited in Hengel (1996), p. 6, n. 11.

(4) Hengel (1996), p. 8.

(5) Hengel (1996), p. 9.

(6) Sanders (1985), p. 252. Note, however, his somewhat more moderate tone in (1993), pp. 224-26.

(7) Blomberg (1992), p. 148; Gnilka (1986), vol. 1, pp. 312-13; Luz (1990), vol. 2, pp. 24-25; Bovon (1996), vol. 2, p. 36; Nolland (1993), vol. 2, p. 342; Schurmann (1994), vol. 2, pp. 40-41.

(8) Cf. e.g. Charlesworth (1988), pp. 154-55 and nn. 59-60; Merkel (1984), pp. 134, 138; Meyer (1979), p. 153 and n. 79; Wright (1996), p. 401 and (somewhat more moderately) Barton (1994), pp. 149-50. Contrast the more circumspect comments of Bernheim (1997), p. 88-91.

(9) E.g. Davies and Allison (1991), vol. 2, pp. 57-8; Fitzmyer (1981), vol. 1, p. 835.

(10) But see e.g. Davies and Allison (1991), vol. 2, pp. 53-54 for a critique of Hengel's assumption that Matthew's arrangement of the Q logion is closer to the original.

(11) Hengel (1996), p. 8 (following Schlatter and Bultmann); cf. e.g. Fitzmyer (1981), vol. 1, p. 836. For a recent view to the contrary see e.g. Luz (1990), vol. 2, pp. 25-26; cf. Nolland (1993), vol. 2, p. 543. However, it is not necessary to assume that the metaphor is here best understood in a heightened spiritual sense (e.g. 'dead to the things of God'). Instead, it might just as well denote a more direct and 'gnomic' notion either of futile mortality (e.g. 'earth-bound mortals') or even of the impurity of death (e.g. 'those who busy themselves with corpses'), as Dr. W. Horbury and Prof. B. Chilton have independently suggested to me. The meaning of 'the dead' here is admittedly difficult to determine with precision. The relative indeterminacy of this word-play may well be intentional; and in any case it derives in part from the saving's tersely gnomic and ad hoc formulation. It should be noted, however, that this difficulty is necessarily faced by all interpretations, and that the particular argument here presented is not dependent on finding an unequivocal resolution.

(12) E.g. Perles (1919-20); Black 1973), pp. 207-208; also Basser (1993). Note also the comments of Fitzmyer (1991), vol. 1, p. 836.

(13) Dalman (1924), p. 163; Jeremias (1971), p. 22 (without acknowledgement). Note, however, that Dalman himself had earlier offered a different version in (1922), p. 210 (ET: (1929), p. 232): [missing Greek text]; and although he alludes to the other version in (1922), p. iv n. 1, there is no acknowledgement of this difference.

(14) See e.g. Deut. 28:26; Jer. 7:33; 8:1-2; Ezek. 6:5; 29:5; 39:17; Ps. Sol. 4.19; Rev. 11:9.

(15) So Hengel (1996), p. 9.

(16) See e.g. m.Naz. 5.4 on the problem of what to do after AD 70 with Nazirites whose vows had been taken before the Temple's destruction.

(17) Cf. also the Tannaitic derivation of the duty of burial from Exod. 18:20 (Mek., Yitro 4 on 18.20 (ed. Lauterbach vol. 2, p. 182) (R. Eleazar or Modiim T2), par. b.BQ 99b) and Mic. 6:8 (b. Suk. 49b, R. Elazar b. Pedat A3).

(18) Even someone of Joseph Fitzmyer's astuteness can assert quite categorically that 'According to later rabbinic tradition, the obligation of burying the dead parents fell even on Nazirites, priests, and the high priest himself' (1991), vol. 1, p. 835.

(19) Lev. 21:2-3; cf. Sifra ad loc.; Sifre Num. 6.7 ([sections] 26). Hengel's specific appeal to Sifra on Num. [sic: read Lev.] 21-3, par. b.Zeb. 100a, deals precisely with the case of an ordinary priest urged to forego passover purity for the sake of burying his wife.

(20) Note the Tannaitic definition [missing Greek text] 'everyone who has none to bury him': b.Erub. 17b; b.Yeb. 89b; b.Naz. 43b.

(21) Spec. Leg. 1.112-16, 247-56.

(22) Ant. 3.277 (for the High Priest).

(23) E.g. m.Naz. 6.5; 7.1; b.Naz. 47b-48b; y.Naz. 7.1, 55d-56b; Sifre Num 6.6 ([sections] 26); Num. R. 10.11; Midrash ha-Gadol on Num. 6.6; Targ. Neof. Num 6.6; cf. Semachot 4.29-31, etc.

(24) Cf. Boertien (1971), Pp. 166-79, and on the principles of Ohalot see Maccoby (1997).

(25) [4QLev.sup.e] 6.5; [11QpalaeoLev.sup.a] frag. K 9; both attest the 'proto-Masoretic' text.

(26) 4Q196 ([Tobit.sup.a]) 11.1.4; 4Q197 ([Tobit.sup.b]) 3.2.11-12.

(27) So e.g. Boertien (1971), p. 27.

(28) Cf. 1QM 11.1 (the enemies' corpses are left with no one to bury them); 11QTemple 48.10-13 (the need for discrete burial places; cf. 49.5-51.5 on corpse impurity); [4QProtoEsther.sup.d] (=4Q550) 1.6 ('when you die I will bury you'); 4QVisions of [Amram.sup.b] (=4Q544) 1.1-3 (building the tombs of our fathers, burying the dead; cf. 4QVisions of [Amram.sup.c] 1.ii.11, 15, 17).

(29) See esp. 11QTemple 48.11-14 49.8-9; cf. Yadin (1983), vol. 1, pp. 324, 327; Swanson (1995), pp. 181, 188.

(30) E.g. B.F. 2.134: [missing Greek text].

(31) Cf. Hachlili (1992), 792-93; Kloner and Gat (1982), p. 76; Eshel and Greenhut (1993), 256-58 (N.B. in this article the site is variously spelled Hiam el-Sagha, Hiam el-Sa'gaha, Hiam El-Sa'laha and Hiam El-Sa'raha). Kloner reported the finds at Gilo orally at a conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Oxford Centre for Hebrew and Jewish Studies (Yarnton Manor), May 1997.

(32) Tobit, 1:17-18: it is one of the expressions of Tobit's charity ([Epsilon Lambda]P[Epsilon Eta Mu Omicron Sigma Upsilon Nu Eta]= [missing Greek text]that he buries the bodies of Jews thrown outside the walls of Nineveh. Cf. 2:3-9; 12:12-13; see also 2 Macc. 12:39.

(33) Philo, Spec. Leg. 1.113-5, 250. Quite how Professor Hengel can deduce from such texts Philo's 'manifest ... tendency to relax this ritual stipulation' (1996, p. 11, n.26) is not clear to me. Philo does indeed discover an allegorical, 'spiritualizing' perspective in these laws (Agric 175-78; Immut. 87-90; Leg. All. 1-17; cf. also the application to the Logos in Fuga 109, 113), but it is of course fundamental to his exegetical approach that spiritual interpretation does not negate literal observance. Note his famous critique of the pure allegorists in Migr. 89-93.

(34) Cf. Sifra Emor 1 on Lev. 21:1. See also Boertien 163, citing M. Petuchowski.

(35) Immediate burial was the norm, as corpses would not normally be left overnight; the point of the tradition, therefore, is that the demands of the Kingdom rule out even a brief delay. McCane's attempt (1990; cf. earlier Meyers 1971, pp. 54 n. 31, 82 n. 37) to interpret our saying in relation to secondary burial, i.e. the gathering of bones into ossuaries after decomposition, remains unconvincing on both contextual and semantic grounds. The relevant terminology in these cases is always that of 'gathering (and burying) the bones' rather than of 'burying the person'.

(36) See further Davies and Allison (1991), p. 53, n. 157.

(37) (1996), p. 11; cf. Tertullian, Adv. Marc. 4-23. Others who have appealed to these Old Testament passages include Plummer (1909), p. 130; Klemm (1969), 62; Glombitza (1971), 19; Schweizer (1976), pp. 220-21; Klemm (1969), 62, n.3 also lists Grotius and Wettstein among earlier writers; cf. also Derrett (1985), p. 76.

(38) See Hooker (1997).

(39) Compare additionally Isa. 20; Ezek. 4-5, 12; Hos. 1-2. Cf. Stacey (1990), pp. 141-42, 205-207 and passim.

(40) Pace Schniewind (1960), p. 114; Glombitza (1971), 19-20, who argue that Jesus operates as High Priest here.

(41) E.g. in Bernheim (1997), p. 90; Derrett (1985), pp. 223-26 (though taking an allegorical line); Schweizer (1960).

(42) Nevertheless, one wonders if it might be significant that Jesus seems to attend no burials (not even that of Lazarus) and appears to approach no dead person other than those he restores to life.

(43) E.g. Luke 14:26-33 par. Cf. Hengel (1989), pp. 260, 271, following Schlatter (1925), p. 264 and (1929), p. 350; cf. Brandon (1967), p. 57.

(44) Cf. recently Stipp (1995).

(45) LXX 1 Sam. 1.11 inserts [Omicron Iota Nu Omicron Nu Kappa Alpha Iota Mu Epsilon Theta Upsilon Sigma Mu Alpha Omicron Upsilon Pi Iota Epsilon Tau Alpha Iota] Whether in order to avoid implying corpse contamination or for other reasons, Josephus tones down 1 Sam. 15:33 to suggest that Samuel (evidently a Nazirite according to Ant. 5:347) 'gave orders' for Agag to be put to death: Ant. 6.155. Cf. also Sir. 46:13 (Heb.); m. Naz. 9.5 on Samuel, and 1.2 on becoming a Nazirite 'like Samson'. See further Boertien (1971), pp. 201-207, and on the underlying textual questions cf. also Catastini (1987), Tsevat (1992); Ulrich (1978), pp. 39-40, 165-166. The possibility of a Nazirite link with Samuel in the Lucan infancy narrative is also entertained by Davies and Allison (1988), vol. 1, p. 276. Absalom later came to be seen as a lifelong Nazirite (b.Naz. 4b; Num. R. 9.24); Joseph was a temporary Nazirite (e.g. Gen.R. 98.20; ef. Vulgate Gen. 49:26 par., Deut. 33:16: nazareus= ??); cf. also Caleb in Num. 32:12 (Symmachus and Theodotion).

(46) It has occasionally been suggested (e.g. by Berger (1996), 330) that there could be a link with this phrase in the demon's exclamation in Mark 1:24 par.; cf. also John 6:69.

(47) Philo, Spec. Leg. 1. 248; cf. Sifre Num 32 on 6. 13.

(48) T.Nez. 4.7; b.Naz. 4b; b.Ned. 9b; etc.

(49) B.Ber. 63a (R. Judah ha-Nasi, baraita).

(50) Cf. Baumgarten (1996) on the original significance of this sacrifice. Note, however, the more negative interpretation of this connection in certain circles of later rabbinic Judaism. Thus, a widely attested tradition attributes to the antimystical and anti-ascetical Bar Qappara (early third century; his teacher R. Judah ha-Nasi apparently denied him ordination) the view that the 'sin' for which the Nazirite brings his sacrifice is that of having denied himself wine! See b. Taan. 11a (cf. R. Sheshet and R. Jeremiah, fourth century: ibid. 11b); b.Naz. 19a.

(51) In addition to 1 Macc. 3:49, cited earlier, see e.g. Josephus Ant. 19.294; y.Ber. 7.2 (11b40-45), etc.

(52) Note the question of what to do with Nazirites arriving in Jerusalem just after the Temple's destruction, m.Naz. 5.4. Temporary vows taken after the destruction are invalid (ibid.), although occasional instances of life-long Nazirite vows continued until modern times.

(53) The subject was apparently no longer studied by the Geonim, as indeed there is also some evidence attesting a certain resistance to ascetic practices of this sort. See also EJ 12, pp. 907, 910, and cf. e.g. t.Nez. 4-7; b.Ned. 9a-b etc.

(54) Josephus B.J. 2.313-4. On Helena of Adiabene see e.g. m.Naz. 3.6; Miriam of Palmyra (Tadmor) m.Naz. 6.11; t.Nez. 4.10.

(55) See Avigad (1971), 196-98.

(56) See e.g. Mek. Amalek 4 (On Exod. 18:27, ed. Lauterbach 2.187-88); Hist. Rech. 8-10 (on which see below).

(57) Cf. e.g. the discussion in Schurer/Vermes (1979) vol. 2, pp. 483-84; Strack-Billerbeck vol. 4, pp. 77-114. Note also the Jewish Christian prescription of fasting in Did. 1.3; 7.4; 8.1.

(58) 'The fool mocks the Nazirite's fast, but praises the pleasure of the world': [missing Greek text] I follow Ruger's reading of the damaged second half of the verse, although I am not finally persuaded of his (and e.g. Veltri's 1992) arguments for a medieval origin of this document.

(59) So e.g. Schweizer (1960), p. 92, following M. Goguel.

(60) See e.g. Schaeder (1942), p. 883, Schweizer (1960) and Berger (1996) as well as Davies and Allison (1988), pp. 26-27 and the sources they cite in n. 34.

(61) Matt. 2:23; 26:71; Luke 18:37; John 18:5, 7; 19:19; Acts 2:22, 3:6; 4:10; 6:14; 22:8; 26:9. Na[Sigma]a[Rho Eta Nu]oc: Mark 1:24; 10:47; 14:67; 16:6; Luke 4:34; 24:19. Contrast also o a[Pi]o Na[Sigma]a[Rho Epsilon Theta]: Matt. 21:11; John 1:45; Acts 10:38.

(62) It is difficult to be certain about the halakhah on whether Nazirite hair could be cut outside the land, and indeed about the extent to which less formal practices would have pertained in the Diaspora. It seems reasonable to infer from the cumulative evidence of t.Nez. 1.5; 4-6; m.Naz. 3.6; 6.8b; 7.3 that vows were contracted and could be valid outside the Holy Land, even if the Hillelites required of diaspora Nazirites a brief symbolic period of another thirty days' Nazirate in Jerusalem. In any case m.Naz. 6.8 suggests that the shaving of the hair and the offering of sacrifices were not always carried out together. Cf. Boertien (1971), pp. 92-93; Koet (1996), pp. 138, 140, n.46.

(63) M.Naz. 3.6; cf. m.Eduy. 4.11. However, note also m.Naz. 7.3 for the view that contamination by 'land of the Gentiles' (in Palestine?) does not render the vow invalid. T.Nez. 1.5 also takes Nazirite vows in the Diaspora for granted: 'Naziriteship applies in the Land and abroad.' For the standard period of thirty days for Nazirite vows of unspecified length, see further e.g. Josephus By 2.313; R. Mattan later deduced the thirty-day duration of Nazirite vows from Num. 6.5: [GREEK TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] 'he shall be holy'; [missing Greek text] has the numerical value of thirty (b.Naz. 5a = b.Taan. 17a; b.Sanh. 22b; cf. Num.R. 10.10 etc.)

(64) Locusts were regarded as clean unless specifically contaminated (Lev. 11:22; cf. e.g. m.Hul. 3.7; m.Uktzin 3.9), even when bought from a Gentile's store (m. A.Z. 2.7).

(65) See already Dan. 1:8, 16; cf. further Sanders (1990), pp. 272-83; Tomson (1990), pp. 168-76.

(66) Cf. e.g. Basil Ep. 44.1 and see Berger (1996), 328 and n.17, citing Gregory of Nazianzus, Or. 42.26 (MPG 36.489C), et al. In later Hebrew, the word [missing Greek text] came to denote a monk.

(67) See further Tertullian Adv. Marc. 4.8: Jews call Christians Nazaraei because they are the 'Nazirites' of whom Lam. 4:7 says that they are 'whiter than snow'. So LXX, Vulgate. Cf. also Epiphanius Haer. 29.6.

(68) Cf. also H. Schaeder, TWNT 4.874-79.

(69) Berger (1996), 324, n.6 lists thirty-two cases of Hebrew yod becoming omega or omicron in LXX. Even within the Hebrew MSS tradition transference of this sort is not uncommon. Hebrew zayin (as in 'Nazir', [missing Greek text] is most typically transliterated by zeta, whereas the letter tzade in 'Nazareth' [missing Greek text] should be expected to go to sigma, as also in LXX renditions of names such as Nebuchadnezzar, Zephaniah, etc. (but note the exceptions discussed in Schaeder (1942), 884). See further Berger (1996), 323-25; note also the Vulgate's terms nazareus (Gen. 49:26; Num. 6:18-21; Deut. 33:26; Judg. 13:5, 7; 16:17; Lam. 4:7; 1 Macc. 3:49), nazarenus (Amos 2:11-12).

(70) Another interesting possibility, not widely noted, is the contested phrase [missing Greek text] in Isa. 49:6, where the Servant is appointed to bring light to the nations and salvation to the ends of the earth, and to restore 'the preserved (?) of Israel'. It is of interest that LXX has [GREEK TEXT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] for MT [missing Greek text] instead to Isa. 4:3 [missing Greek text].

(71) Cf. further Pritz (1988), pp. 11-18. Similarly note the consistent Syriac description of Christians as natsraya, subsequently adopted by Persians, Armenians and Arabs alike (Schaeder (1942), 880).

(72) See e.g. the abstemious figure Zosimus in Hist.Rech. 1.1 and passim. Note further Knights (1993), (1997), who argues that this document probably does not belong among the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, pace J. H. Charlesworth.

(73) According to the Gospel of the Hebrews, after the passion of Jesus, James swore to eat no bread until he should see him risen from the dead: Jerome De Viris Inlustribus 2 (Cf. Schneemelcher (1990), vol. 1, P. 147).

(74) Many abstained from wine and meat even without taking the formal vows: b.B.B. 60b; b.Shab. 139a.

(75) Sifre Num. 22 (on 6.2) and parallels (e.g. t.Nez. 4.7; b.Ned. 9b; b.Naz. 4b; Num. R. 11 (on 6.2)).

(76) Num. R. 10.10; Cf. 10.2-4 (e.g. 10.4 end: 'if one wishes to sanctify himself so as not to be tripped up by whoredom he should separate himself from wine').

(77) One might compare the somewhat complex literary and archaeological evidence for celibacy among Essenes (Philo Hyp. 11.14-7; Pliny Nat. Hist. 5.73; Josephus B.J. 2.120-21, 160-61; Ant. 18.21; also CD 12.1-2 par. 4QD[.sup.c] 3.1.17 on mandatory sexual abstinence within Jerusalem) and Therapeutae (Philo Cont. 68). While rabbinic evidence is admittedly scant, it is at least worth noting the occasional estimation of sexual abstinence as an expression of purity and holiness: e.g. Moses and the Israelites at Sinai (Exod. 19:15; b.Shab. 87a; Aboth R. Nathan A 2; T. Ps.-J. Num. 12.8); cf. David and his men in 1 Sam. 21:4. M.Yeb. 6.6 implies that sexual abstinence is permitted to men who already have children, and to women. As early as Jer. 16:1-4, the prophet is instructed not to marry. On rabbinic elements of sexual asceticism cf. further Horbury (1979), 117. And quite apart from his Nazirite vow Paul, too, was evidently celibate by choice (1 Cor. 9:5; cf. 7:7).

(78) Cf. Chilton (1992), pp. 121-26, 135-36; Bockmuehl (1996), pp. 271-73.

(79) In Matt. 8:21 he is already one of the disciples.

(80) Cf. e.g. Beare (1981), p. 214, though perhaps rather too flippantly and with in-sufficient awareness of the halakhic issues involved: 'Let that matter, take-care of itself.'





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