Three Feasts And A Triadic Macrostructure In John

By Jeffrey A. Dukeman

[Jeffrey A. Dukeman is Pastor at St. Matthew Lutheran Church, Gulfport, Mississippi, and Adjunct Professor at Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, Missouri.]

Abstract

This article argues for a triadic macrostructure based on the three feasts mentioned in John, as well as terminological, thematic, and structural indicators. It concludes that three main sections make up the Gospel: 1–5 (Passover), 6:1–12:11 (Tabernacles), and 12:12–21:25 (Hanukkah).

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Introduction

Scholars have achieved little consensus regarding the macrostructure of the Gospel of John. Beutler, in his commentary, summarizes some of the recent major proposals.[1] According to Beutler, one commonly proposed structure is based on Bultmann’s thematic view and sees chapters 2–12 as “the book of signs” and chapters 13–20 as “the book of glory” with chapter 1 as an introduction and chapter 21 as an epilogue or supplement. Scholars also note a “cycle of feasts” near the middle of John, which Beutler finds helpful because it draws on thematic, spatial, and temporal elements in the text. Typically these proposals include at least a one-year cycle of feasts that moves from Passover (6:4), to Tabernacles (7:2), to Hanukkah (10:22), and back to Passover (11:55).[2] Another common method for structuring John involves the journeys of Jesus to Jerusalem. For example, Segovia argues for four cycles of journeys that each end in Jerusalem in 1:19–3:36, 4:1–5:47, 6:1–10:42, and 11:1–17:26.[3] Beutler argues that a weakness of these journey proposals is they do not sufficiently account for the feasts, although Beutler himself argues the journey and feast themes should be combined since Jesus journeys to Jerusalem for the feasts. Finally, Beutler notes in recent years it has become more common to combine various formal and thematic criteria in trying to discover the structure of John.

This article proposes that the Gospel has a triadic macrostructure consisting of three sections integrally connected to the three great Jewish feasts mentioned in John.[4] It will argue 1–5, 6:1–12:11, and 12:12–21:25 constitute these three sections with Passover, Tabernacles, and Hanukkah, respectively, as the predominant festivals.[5] In what follows I will examine each of the three proposed sections of John and its proposed corresponding festival, dividing each section into three smaller, generally well-recognized subsections to aid the discussion.

The First Section Of John And Passover

This section will argue chapters 1–5 form a distinct section in John with Passover as the predominant festival. Various terminological, thematic, and structural arguments support this.

John 1

Jesus being called “the Lamb of God” (ὁ ἀμνὸς τοῦ θεοῦ) in 1:29, 36 (the only occurrences of this phrase in John) likely connects with the Passover. Porter notes that scholars typically see Jesus bearing some resemblance to the Passover Lamb here.[6] Porter further argues that perhaps more important to establishing the Passover theme in John 1 is that Jesus “takes away the sin of the world” (ὁ αἴρων τὴν ἁμαρτίαν τοῦ κόσμου, v. 29).[7] Porter also indicates that some notable scholars connect the imagery in 1:29, 36 with later parts of John, like 19:31–37, and argue for a Passover theme in this way as well.

Given that commentators regularly recognize the Passover Lamb in chapter 1, this raises the question of whether Passover is present throughout the chapter. Wheaton lists numerous scholars who see references to the Exodus in 1:14–18, which would also suggest connotations of the Passover.[8] With a similar emphasis on beginnings, Porter, in his discussion of the Lamb of God in chapter 1, notes the significance of these references appearing “in concentrated fashion at a crucial initiatory point in the narrative, marking the Gospel’s, as well as John the Baptist’s, introduction of Jesus and the commencement of Jesus’s ministry.”[9] Porter’s discussion opens up other possibilities for finding Passover themes in chapter 1. For example, the initiatory position of the Lamb of God references brings to mind that Passover inaugurated the Jewish year, the Exodus marked the beginning of Jewish existence as an independent nation, and ultimately God the Creator initiated the Exodus.[10] God as Creator is also a major theme in the prologue, especially in 1:1–5. When considering Passover in connection with God as Creator, the centrality of water is evident both at the world’s creation and the parting of the Red Sea. Thus, the passages in chapter 1 dealing with the related terms of water (1:26, 31, 33), baptizing (1:25–26, 28, 31, 33), and John the Baptist (1:6, 15, 19, 26, 28, 32, 35, 40) arguably tie to Passover.[11]

John 2–4

While John 1 alludes to Passover, chapters 2–4 explicitly mention Passover repeatedly, and Passover occupies a central place in its structure. John 2:13 contains the first reference to Passover—the occasion for Jesus’s first journey to Jerusalem. Verse 23 mentions Passover again and associates it with signs (σημεῖα), a term reminiscent of the ten signs that Moses did in Egypt at the time of the institution of the Passover feast.[12] John explicitly connects Jesus’s first miracle in Cana, which is called a sign (2:11), with his second sign (4:54) of healing the official’s son and the Passover journey to Jerusalem (v. 54, further emphasizing the association of Passover with signs). The Passover journey to Jerusalem in chapters 2–4 forms a literary unit, with terms and themes at the beginning and end that form an inclusio.[13]

Besides these explicit references to Passover and its structural significance, water is prominent in chapters 2–4, similar to chapter 1. Fourteen of the total twenty-four occurrences of the term “water” (ὕδωρ) occur in chapters 2–4 (2:7, 9; 3:5, 23; 4:7, 10–11, 13–15, 46). Similarly, “baptize” (βαπτίζω) occurs six times in contexts where Jesus, John, or the disciples perform the act (3:22–23, 26; 4:1–2). Likewise John the Baptist’s name occurs six times in these passages (3:23–27; 4:1). These references to water recall Moses parting the Red Sea and the closely-associated feast of Passover.[14]

Besides these water-related themes, the references to signs in chapters 2–4 appear in contexts that recall the ten signs in Egypt and the Passover.[15] Jesus’s first sign in Cana (2:11) involved abundant water (v. 6). The sequence of events when Jesus cleansed the temple and was asked what sign he did to justify it (v. 18) occurred immediately after he departed for Jerusalem because Passover was at hand (v. 13). John 3:2 contains the next occurrence of the term “sign.” The Nicodemus account (vv. 1–21) could have Passover connotations: Nicodemus came to Jesus at night (the final three signs in Egypt involved darkness); Jesus was thought to come from God because of his signs (Pharaoh thought similarly of Moses in Exod 8:8, 28–29; 9:27–28; 10:16–17, 24; 12:31–32); Jesus immediately spoke to Nicodemus about new birth and water (and later Moses in John 3:14); and the conversation occurred while Jesus was in Jerusalem for Passover. The final two mentions of signs in John 2–4 pertain to the healing of the official’s son who was at the point of death. That account forms an inclusio with the beginning of the section and conceivably alludes to the final sign given to Pharaoh—the deaths of the firstborn sons of Egypt.

John 5

The Passover also seems to appear throughout John 5, beginning with the chapter’s placement in the narrative. Jesus’s Passover trip from Galilee to Jerusalem precedes chapter 5, and a reference to another Passover feast follows it at the beginning of chapter 6. The Passover surrounds chapter 5. In fact, this could be one of the reasons that 5:1 mentions an anonymous feast. By not naming the feast, the events of the feast can be more easily associated with Passover, even though it is probably not a Passover feast.

In chapter 5 water is also a prominent theme. The healing at the beginning of the chapter clearly involves water, as the location carefully specifies the presence of a pool (κολυμβήθρα, v. 2). The term “pool” is repeated in verse 7. Besides these references to water, the text mentions John the Baptist in verses 33 and 36. These two verses about John use forms of the term “testimony” (μαρτυρία), which connects them to the surrounding discussion that mentions and describes testimony (5:31–32, 34) in such a way that the themes of water and Passover further permeate the chapter.

Finally, various indicators suggest that chapter 5 makes an inclusio with chapter 1. The explicit mention of water (ὕδωρ) in 5:7 makes twenty-one total instances up to that point in John, with only three instances (7:38; 13:5; 19:34) remaining outside of chapters 1–5, including none in chapter 6, despite Jesus walking on the sea (6:16–21).[16] Similarly, John the Baptist’s name occurs seventeen times in chapters 1–5 and only twice elsewhere (10:41–42). The two mentions of John’s name in 5:33, 36 are placed in the context of Jesus’s testimony and light being greater than John’s. This recalls the numerous references to John the Baptist in chapter 1, which also refers to Jesus’s testimony and light being greater than John’s (1:6–9, 19–27).[17] The water-related themes connected to Passover suggest that chapters 1–5 form a distinct section.

Summary Of The First Section Of John And Passover

This section has argued chapters 1–5 form a unit in the Gospel with Passover as its predominant festival. The term “Passover” occurs in 2:13, 23 and is the only feast explicitly mentioned in the section. Furthermore, various allusions to Passover appear, such as Jesus twice being called “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” and abundant references to water and water-related phenomena like God’s creation of the world, the Exodus, John the Baptist, baptizing, and a pool.

The Middle Section Of John And Tabernacles

This section argues that 6:1–12:11, as a cycle of feasts, forms a distinct section of John. Whereas chapters 1–5 focus on Passover, 6:1–12:11 is primarily concerned with Tabernacles. Various terminological, thematic, and structural arguments support this.

John 6

Numerous scholars have seen a cycle of feasts present in the middle of the Gospel, typically beginning with chapter 5 or 6 and extending to the beginning of Holy Week in 12:11. The present article argues that this cycle of feasts begins with chapter 6. One reason for this is Passover, mentioned in 6:4, begins the Jewish calendar year and provides a natural starting point for a year-long cycle of feasts. The cycle of feasts then moves to Tabernacles (7:2) in the middle of the calendar and then to Hanukkah (10:22) at the end. John 6:1–12:11 constitutes a middle section, which is itself centered around the feast of Tabernacles, the predominant festival.

A simple way to consider the three feasts is by linking them to their prior history. Passover focuses on the departure from Egypt through the Red Sea, Tabernacles focuses on Israel’s time in the wilderness, and Hanukkah focuses on the promised land. With this said, the three feasts with their respective historical emphases clearly relate to each other. For example, the time in the wilderness required the Red Sea crossing and prepared the way for the promised land.[18] These things are important in considering John 6. The events of this chapter happened during the Passover feast (6:4). But in 6:31, 49 the wilderness (ἔρημος) is mentioned and refers to Israel’s time after the Red Sea crossing—a period for which Passover prepared the way but was more fully commemorated by Tabernacles.[19] Chapter 6, in emphasizing the wilderness, has Tabernacles as its predominant festival, and yet the events of the chapter take place in such a way that Tabernacles also recalls its precursor, Passover.

Besides explicit references to the wilderness, other details in chapter 6 relate to Israel’s time in the wilderness and in this way also relate to Tabernacles. Probably most prominent here is the theme of bread. The term ἄρτος (“bread”) appears nowhere in chapters 1–5 but appears twenty-one times in chapter 6, culminating in Jesus’s first great “I am” statement (“I am the bread of life,” ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ἄρτος τῆς ζωῆς, 6:48).[20] In the chapter John connects bread to the wilderness (“manna in the wilderness,” vv. 31, 49). This bread has some connotations of Passover, such as God freeing his people before they were in the wilderness. But it has a closer connection to Tabernacles, which especially commemorates the time in the wilderness where God provided the manna. Besides the new theme of bread, in chapter 6 Jesus acts in a much more public way (6:2).[21] Jesus’s mentoring of his disciples features more prominently, as Jesus enlists his disciples to help him feed the five thousand and explains his actions in the process.[22] This public mentorship of the disciples seems to recall God teaching his people in the wilderness, such as at Mt. Sinai. Finally, amid Jesus’s mentoring of his disciples, both Jesus’s disciples and his opponents grumbled (γογγύζω) against him (6:41, 43, 61), recalling Israel’s grumbling in the wilderness and the related festival, Tabernacles.[23]

John 7:1–10:21

The beginning of chapter 7 repeatedly and explicitly mentions Tabernacles. After stating that Jesus would not travel in Judea because the Jews were seeking to kill him, John records Tabernacles was at hand (v. 2). This ongoing resistance against Jesus is like the grumbling of Israel in the wilderness observed in chapter 6. When Jesus’s brothers wanted him to go to Jerusalem to celebrate Tabernacles (7:3–4), it reflected unbelief and improper timing (vv. 5–9). John records Jesus went to the feast privately (v. 10) and the Jews were looking for him at the feast (vv. 11–13). Around the middle of the feast, Jesus went into the temple and began preaching (v. 14). In this passage John repeatedly and explicitly mentions Tabernacles and ties it to the Tabernacles-related themes of resistance and grumbling (v. 32).

Verse 37 contains the last explicit reference to Tabernacles as it speaks of “the last day of the feast, the great day,” but this verse sets the stage for important Tabernacles themes. On these themes, Wheaton notes the following:

Scholarly treatment of this festival in John 7–8 typically focuses on the symbolic background of the water and light ceremonies in John 7:37–38 and 8:12, respectively. Representative of those of many commentators are the conclusions of Yee, who summarizes: “[Jesus] is the new temple from which the ‘rivers of living water’ will flow,” and in lieu of “the light of Tabernacles in the Jerusalem temple, Jesus becomes ‘the light of the world.’ ”[24]

Wheaton’s own discussion focuses on one aspect of the water rite. During the water rite the bronze altar would be struck with palms in memory of Moses striking the rock at Meribah to provide water for Israel (Exod 17:7). Here it should be noted that the Mosaic history recalled in John 7:37–38 and 8:12 occurred in the wilderness after the parting of the Red Sea, which shows continuity with the wilderness history and Tabernacles themes present in John 6.[25] As the section continues, the theme of light appears repeatedly as Jesus calls himself “the light of the world” (φῶς εἰμι τοῦ κόσμου) in 8:12 and 9:5. If the Mishnah accurately describes John’s time, the candlesticks measured seventy-five feet high in Jerusalem at the feast of Tabernacles. They would have cast spectacular light, a fitting reminder of God’s presence with his people in the wilderness through the pillar of fire and the tabernacle filled with his glory.[26] John’s narration of the last day of the feast of Tabernacles (7:37) emphasizes the Tabernacles water ritual (7:38–39) and light ritual (8:12; 9:5), which commemorated Israel’s time in the wilderness.

The question now arises whether the Tabernacles theme continues throughout 7:1–10:21. Beutler notes, “Research is increasingly establishing that the whole section John 7:1–10:42 is stamped and determined by this feast [Tabernacles].”[27] Beutler largely agrees that this extensive section connects to Jesus’s presence at Tabernacles but prefers to see the section as consisting of 7:1–10:21 since 10:22 mentions the feast of Hanukkah taking place.[28] The prominent light theme, demonstrated by Jesus calling himself the light of the world (8:12; 9:5), can reasonably be extended to the rest of chapter 9 since John closely associates sight with light (11:9–10). Jesus, in publicly giving the blind man sight, provided light to him who saw only darkness, while Jesus’s opponents simultaneously seemed to become darkened (9:40–41).[29] Finally, it should be noted that John, in the very last verse of this section (7:1–10:21), explicitly connects the Good Shepherd discourse (10:1–21) with the miracle Jesus performed in chapter 9: “These are not the words of one who is oppressed by a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?” (10:21). Here the Good Shepherd imagery of John 10 seems to connect with themes such as light (for guidance) and mentoring, both of which fit with what God did for the Israelites in the wilderness, as argued above.

John 10:22–12:11

The feast of Hanukkah, mentioned in 10:22–39, should be briefly introduced before showing how Tabernacles is the predominant festival in 10:22–12:11. Wheaton summarizes scholarship on the significance of Hanukkah by noting two main themes that tend to be emphasized.[30] The first theme is Jesus’s consecreation (ἡγίασεν) by the Father in 10:36. This plays off the tradition where Judah Maccabee in 164 BCE consecrated the bronze altar of the temple that had been recaptured from the occupying Seleucids to prepare for resuming temple worship.[31] The second Hanukkah theme is the accusation of blasphemy against Jesus in verse 33, which parallels the accusation of blasphemy against the Seleucid king Antiochus Epiphanes. Although Wheaton draws some fresh conclusions and tries to distinguish his own view, it relates closely to the previous scholarship that links Jesus being accused of blasphemy with his claim to deity.

While these two Hanukkah-related themes are present in verses 22–39, and likely throughout 10:22–12:11 to some extent, the Tabernacle feast persists as the predominant festival throughout 10:22–12:11.[32] This can be seen first by considering the structure of 10:22–12:11. The clearest structural element is the transition to Holy Week after 12:11. By bringing up Hanukkah in 10:22–39, John demonstrated how Tabernacles, as the middle feast, can show how the Jewish feasts relate to each other. Another important structural consideration is that while Jesus is at the feast of Hanukkah in 10:22–39, he continues the Good Shepherd discourse from the beginning of chapter 10 by mentioning sheep and repeating what he has just told his audience in the context of Tabernacles in 10:1–21.[33] Jesus is threatened with death not just because he claims to be divine (a Hanukkah theme) but because he accuses his listeners of being disobedient sheep, like those who wandered and grumbled in the wilderness at the time of Moses (a Tabernacles theme). The two themes are related to each other here in 10:25–30. Finally, John mainly designates miracles as signs (σημεῖα) in 1:1–12:11. This means that Holy Week, with its predominant Hanukkah theme, does not have signs emphasized to the extent, or at least in the manner, that they were earlier. Anticipating this, the events occurring at Hanukkah in 10:22–39 emphasize miraculous “works” (ἔργα) that Jesus had been doing (vv. 25, 32–33, 37–38). By repeatedly referring to works and nowhere mentioning signs, verses 22–39 seem to be distinguishing Hanukkah in some way. And yet, the following context in 10:41 also associates these works with signs, which places these works within the larger context of the signs of Tabernacles (e.g. 6:14; 9:16; 11:47) in the middle section of John (6:1–12:11).[34] John 10:22–12:11, while displaying some connections to Hanukkah, nevertheless is presented in such a way that the Tabernacles festival predominates.

Finally, various wilderness-related themes throughout 10:22–12:11 point to a predominant Tabernacles context. Light appears prominently again, both explicitly as a term (11:9–10) and metaphorically for Lazarus living (v. 37). This is reminiscent of chapter 9 where light appeared as a term and functioned as a metaphor for sight.[35] Furthermore, like the other miracles with wilderness-related themes in 6:1–12:11, the resurrection of Lazarus involved a public setting (11:31, 45–47; 12:9). This public setting affords an opportunity for Jesus to mentor disciples, whose crosses are connected with Jesus’s (11:1). A mentoring theme seems present in connection with Lazarus, who not only is raised to the light of life but also seems to progress in discipleship, having his life threatened due to his allegiance to Jesus (12:9–11). This reminds the audience of a similar occurrence with the man born blind (9:34–35). On the flip side, Jesus’s opponents seem to grow darker still as Jesus can no longer walk “openly” (παρρησίᾳ) but must walk in the wilderness (11:54).[36] These various wilderness-related themes suggest that Tabernacles is the predominant festival in 10:22–12:11.

Summary Of The Middle Section Of John And Tabernacles

This section has argued that 6:1–12:11 houses a distinct middle section in John’s Gospel with Tabernacles as its predominant festival. Whereas Passover and Hanukkah are each mentioned only once in this section, the Tabernacles feast is mentioned seven times. Furthermore, although the section contains certain Passover and Hanukkah ideas, a Tabernacles theme dominates, as seen in the wilderness-related elements like manna, grumbling, and water and light elements connected to the rituals of Tabernacles. Various structural elements indicate that 6:1–12:11 forms a distinct unit: (1) a distinct festival cycle of Jewish feasts from Passover to Hanukkah; (2) an abrupt transition from emphasizing water in chapters 1–5 to emphasizing bread in chapter 6; (3) the first of the great “I am” statements in chapter 6; and (4) the last of the great signs in 12:18, which sets apart Holy Week.

The Final Section Of John And Hanukkah

This section will argue that 12:12–21:25, the Holy Week, forms the third and final section of John and predominantly focuses on the festival of Hanukkah. Various terminological, thematic, and structural arguments will support this argument.

John 12:12–13:38

To establish Hanukkah’s place as the predominant feast during Holy Week, some comments on structure should first be made. In the book of signs (1:1–12:11), the word “glory” (δόξα) appears thirteen times and “glorify” (δοξάζω) four times. In Holy Week (12:12–21:25) “glory” appears six times and “glorify” appears nineteen times, despite Holy Week occupying only about a third of John. This suggests a special relationship between glory and Holy Week.[37] Holy Week also follows a narrative-discourse-narrative structure that perhaps matches the three-part movement from Passover to Tabernacles to Hanukkah in 6:1–12:11, as well as the threefold division for chapters 1–5 chosen for this article. Finally, Holy Week also coheres as a distinct unit due to its consistent setting in or near Jerusalem, with the exception of chapter 21, which could function as an epilogue.

Having briefly considered some initial structural matters, I will now address the festival terminology at the beginning of Holy Week. A question arises: Why should Holy Week have Hanukkah as its predominant festival when the Feast of Passover is explicitly mentioned (12:1)? To answer this, one must recognize that Passover never really arrives in John. Verse 1 uses the expression, “six days before the Passover.” Here the countdown has begun, yet it never reaches zero. The first verse in Holy Week says, “The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem” (v. 12). Significantly, the author does not specify the intended feast. The generic language leaves open the possibility that John intended the reader to think that Hanukkah was still being celebrated, or at least its after-effects. Verses 17–18 mention that the crowd present in Jerusalem was associated with Lazarus, and they witnessed the sign Jesus did for him. The crowd is thus linked to the past, with the most recent feast being Hanukkah (10:22). John 12:20 again mentions an unnamed feast and the presence of Greeks, quite fitting in the context of Hanukkah since it celebrated liberation from certain Greek forces. John 13:1 explicitly mentions Passover but includes the crucial qualifier that the event occurred “before the Feast of the Passover”; Passover still had not arrived. John 13:29 contains the final reference to a feast in this section, but John again does not name it.

Besides these generic references to feasts in this section, I will briefly consider two other related peculiarities in John’s presentation of Holy Week. First, John does not have a clear account of the institution of the Lord’s Supper but rather has the footwashing event and Jesus’s Farewell Discourse, setting it apart from the other Gospels.[38] Downplaying the Last Supper would make sense if John intended to deemphasize Passover (and its associated meal) in favor of Hanukkah. Second, John stands out among the Gospels by portraying the last day of Jesus’s life on the day before Passover, “the day of Preparation” (19:14, 31, 42), rather than on Passover.[39] This too would make sense if John meant to downplay the Passover in favor of Hanukkah. Thus, this discussion leaves open the possibility that although Holy Week deals with some details related to Passover, Hanukkah might provide the predominant festival in this section.

The two chief Hanukkah themes discussed earlier will provide the basis for the remainder of this article: consecration in a temple context and an emphasis on true deity against blasphemy. Bauckham clarifies the theme of consecration in connection with Hanukkah and the temple using three steps. In an Old Testament temple context, unclean (ἀκάθαρτος) things first had to be cleansed (καθαρίζειν) to become pure (καθαρός). Then profane things (κοινός or βέβηλος) had to be consecrated (ἁγιάζειν or ἁγίζειν) to become holy (ἅγιος). Finally an inauguration (ἐγκαίνια) took place when the item’s temple use began, which Bauckham identifies as the meaning of the term “Hanukkah” (חנכה or חנוכה).[40] In terms of Jesus’s life as presented in John, Jesus’s consecration in 10:36 correlates to the second step; the third step (inauguration) occurs at the cross.[41] In terms of the current section, 12:12–13:38, Bauckham claims that Jesus washing his disciples’ feet involved cleansing them. At a symbolic level, this was a purification from sin in connection with the forgiveness procured by Jesus’s death (13:10–11). This corresponds to the first of Bauckham’s three steps of consecration; so Hanukkah proves important for understanding the footwashing.[42] Glory also seems connected to the temple consecration. In 12:12–13:38 “glory” occurs three times, and “glorify” occurs ten times. These occurrences highlight that Jesus’s glory is imminent but not yet fully present. Coloe connects the theme of glory with the temple but does so somewhat differently than Bauckham.[43] For her, the true temple in John from the beginning is Jesus’s body, which involves various indwellings between God and people. This is reminiscent of the glory cloud indwelling the tabernacle in the Old Testament. This true temple of Jesus’s body underwent preparations to be destroyed through the cross before being raised on the third day. The mutual glorification of the Father and the Son also involves mutual indwelling in 13:31–32, making Coloe’s understanding of the connection between glory and the temple evident. In 12:12–13:38 the occurrences of the terms “glory” and “glorify” connect with the temple cleansing, a theme central to Hanukkah.[44]

John 14–17

John 14–17 contains Jesus’s Farewell Discourse, where he instructs his disciples about his coming work, which will enable their future role in the church. Jesus frames part of this instruction in terms of consecration, a theme this article connects to Hanukkah. For example, 15:2–3 refers not just to physical pruning (καθαίρει) of a vine but uses wordplay to refer to the disciples’ purification from sin by Jesus’s word to become clean (καθαροί).[45] This employs the same language used when Jesus cleansed his disciples’ feet (13:10–11). In both cases the cleansing corresponds to the first of the three stages of inaugurating the temple during Hanukkah. In the Farewell Discourse, Jesus not only cleanses his disciples but also consecrates them—the second stage of the temple inauguration. Thus, near the end of the sermon, Jesus, using the same root term for consecrate (ἁγιάζω) as 10:36, where the Father consecrated Jesus, said that he was consecrating himself so that his disciples might also be consecrated (17:17–19).[46] Bauckham notes numerous other verbal parallels between chapters 10 and 17 in connection with Hanukkah and argues that in chapter 17 Jesus consecrated himself as a sacrifice for the temple inauguration at the cross.[47]

Coloe helpfully discusses other passages in the Farewell Discourse related to the temple, which provides additional evidence for Hanukkah’s presence in this context. Coloe argues the Farewell Discourse deals chiefly with Jesus preparing to leave the disciples and how the disciples will experience God’s presence in the future.[48] Coloe summarizes one of her main arguments as follows,

Taken together, the two key phrases of 14:2—“in my Father’s house there are many dwellings,” and “I go to prepare a place for you”—show a uniquely Johannine concern with the temple, now reinterpreted in a radically new way as the household of God, where the divine presence dwells within the community of believers. When the disciples fail to understand Jesus’ words, his explanation leads into the promise of the Paraclete and an indication that the household of my Father will be prepared through the indwellings of the Father, Jesus, and Paraclete within the believer (14:17, 23, 25). In some way, the action of Jesus’ “going” to the Father, is simultaneously the action when he “prepares/builds” the “place” (temple) for the disciples. The Father's house will no longer be a construction of stones, but will be a household of many interpersonal relationships, many dwellings, where the Divine Presence can dwell within believers.[49]

Flowing from Jesus’s description of the Father’s household with its many dwellings (μοναὶ, 14:2), Coloe connects the temple to Jesus’s body and his dwelling with his disciples, with the temple inauguration occurring at Jesus’s death (2:21).[50] In her argumentation, Coloe connects the temple and its associated interpersonal relationships to an abundance of passages in chapters 14–15 that use derivatives of the word “to dwell” (μένω) that stem from 14:2.[51] Hanukkah is evident in the Farewell Discourse both through the opening verses about the Father’s household with its dwelling places and through the related language permeating the discourse.

Besides the theme of the temple and its consecration, another way the Farewell Discourse shows Hanukkah as its predominant festival is through the theme of establishing deity, especially in light of charges of blasphemy. At the feast of Hanukkah in 10:30–31, Jesus’s opponents prepared to stone Jesus because he said, “I and the Father are one.” They said he was committing “blasphemy” (βλασφημίας) for “making himself God” (ποιεῖς σεαυτὸν θεόν, 10:33; see also v. 36). Then they attempted to arrest Jesus again when he said, “The Father is in me and I am in the Father” (vv. 38–39). The Farewell Discourse contains various statements where Jesus similarly asserted his deity, such as when Jesus said not just to believe in God but also to believe in himself (14:1). In 14:10–12, in a context where others asked Jesus to prove himself (14:8–10), he used almost identical language as at the Hanukkah Feast in 10:38, saying twice, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me.” Here Jesus even appealed to his works (14:11) similarly to 10:32, 37. A few verses later Jesus used similar language but modified it to include a reference to his disciples, saying, “In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you” (14:20). The language in chapter 17 is similar. Near the beginning of his prayer, Jesus said that he shared glory with the Father before the world existed (v. 5). Verse 11 recalls the deity-associated language of 10:30 as Jesus prayed to the Father that the disciples “may be one, even as we are one.” John 17:21–22 again contains language reminiscent of Jesus’s words at the Hanukkah feast dealing with both unity (10:30) and indwelling (10:38). Jesus prayed

that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one (17:21–23).

Finally, the prayer’s conclusion in chapter 17 may make an inclusio with the beginning of the Farewell Discourse, emphasizing Jesus’s deity as Jesus spoke of the Father loving him before the foundation of the world and prayed that this love and Jesus himself might dwell in all who would believe.[52] The Farewell Discourse emphasizes Jesus’s deity in a similar way as occurred at the Hanukkah feast in 10:22–39, and in this way, it connects with Hanukkah.

John 18–21

In various ways the passion narrative emphasizes the deity of Jesus—one of the two main themes associated with Hanukkah. I will briefly discuss two primary examples. Before doing so, it should be noted from the Hanukkah feast in 10:22–39 that Jews accuse Jesus of blasphemy because he said, “I am the Son of the God” (υἱὸς τοῦ θεοῦ εἰμι, 10:36). This expression may contain a version of the divine name: “I am” (εγώ εἰμι, see Exod 3:14). In Jesus’s arrest in John 18:1–11 it is almost as if a battle takes place between Jesus and “a band of soldiers and some officers from the chief priests and the Pharisees” (18:3).[53] When these soldiers and officers asked about Jesus’s identity, he replied with the divine name “I am” (v. 5). The Johannine narrative repeats that Jesus said “I am” (v. 6), causing the soldiers to draw back and fall to the ground. Following this Jesus repeats the divine name in verse 8 and orders his adversaries to let his disciples go. Although this account does not include the phrase “I am the Son of God” that Jesus spoke at Hanukkah in 10:36, the phrase “I am” appears three times and seemingly demonstrates the deity of Jesus.[54]

The second account that emphasizes Jesus’s deity comes from Jesus’s trial before Pilate (19:7–11). The Jews tried to have Jesus crucified “because he has made himself the Son of God” (ὅτι υἱὸν θεοῦ ἑαυτὸν ἐποίησεν, 19:7). These words recall the accusation that Jesus was claiming to be God during the Hanukkah feast in 10:33–36. Similar to Jesus’s arrest where the divine name drives back his opponents, after Pilate hears that Jesus has made himself the Son of God, Pilate “was even more afraid” (19:8) and brought Jesus into his headquarters for a second private conversation. Jesus declared Pilate “would have no authority over [him] at all, unless it had been given from above” (v. 11). This passage asserts Jesus’s deity by illustrating the power of the divine name, “Son of God.” Similarly, the passage vindicates Jesus from the charge of blasphemy associated with this name in accordance with the Hanukkah feast (10:38) and suggests his opponents are guilty of blasphemy.[55]

Besides the emphasis on Jesus’s deity, the passion narrative also emphasizes another theme related to Hanukkah, the consecration and inauguration of the temple. I will briefly summarize two of Coloe’s interpretations.[56] Coloe argues that only two main features appear unique to the Johannine crucifixion account: the title above Jesus’s head (19:19) and the scene with Mary and the beloved disciple (vv. 25–30). Regarding the former, Coloe notes that the Johannine passion narrative repeatedly refers to Jesus as the “the Nazarene” (τὸν Ναζωραῖον, 18:5, 7; 19:19). Based on an association of the title Nazarene with the concept of a branch and in light of contemporary Jewish literature and biblical passages like Zechariah 6:11–13, Coloe argues the title Nazarene above the head of Jesus “is a reference to his messianic role as the builder of the eschatological temple.”[57] Regarding the latter unique feature of the Johannine passion narrative, although at crucifixion the temple of his body would be destroyed (John 2:19–21), Jesus was also raising a new one. The shape of this new temple appears in Coloe’s explanation of 19:25–30. Coloe summarizes this as follows,

These two phrases, “behold your son” and “behold your mother,” establish a new relationship between the disciple and the mother of Jesus, and in so doing they establish a new relationship between the disciple and Jesus. If the woman always called “the mother of Jesus” is presented also as the mother of the Beloved Disciple, then Jesus’ sonship is extended to embrace others; the disciple is adopted as Jesus’ brother/sister and therefore becomes a child of God (1:12).[58]

For Coloe, the cross inaugurates a new temple, not as a building but new relationships marked by dwelling together made possible through the temple of Jesus’s body. In these two ways Coloe argues Jesus inaugurates a new temple, a concept fitting with Hanukkah.

Summary Of The Final Section Of John And Hanukkah

This section has argued 12:12–21:25 forms a unit in John’s Gospel with Hanukkah as its predominant festival. Although the Johannine Holy Week nowhere explicitly mentions Hanukkah, the text points to it by downplaying Passover in such a way that Passover never seems to arrive, making the last feast celebrated Hanukkah (10:22–39). Furthermore, two main themes with connections to Hanukkah appear abundantly in 12:12–21:25. The first is Jesus’s cleansing and consecrating evident in the footwashing and the Farewell Discourse. This prepared the way for the new temple’s inauguration with its new relationships of dwelling together demonstrated by Jesus’s mother and the beloved disciple at the crucifixion. The second theme is the repeated assertion of Jesus’s deity, including when it was blasphemously questioned. Various structural elements also indicate 12:12–21:25 forms a distinct unit with Hanukkah as the predominant festival, such as the section occurring almost exclusively in Jerusalem and the section emphasizing glory in contrast to 1:1–12:11, which emphasizes signs.

Conclusion

This article has argued the Gospel of John contains three sections, each with a predominant festival: Passover, Tabernacles, and Hanukkah, respectively. The explicit festival terminology in John serves as support. Passover is mentioned twice (2:13, 23) in the first section of John 1–5. Tabernacles is mentioned repeatedly in the middle section of John 6:1–12:11. Hanukkah is the last celebrated feast in Holy Week, while Passover never really arrived. Various Johannine themes support the proposed three-part structure for John with accompanying festival emphases. The first section emphasizes water-related themes fitting for Passover. The middle section emphasizes wilderness-related themes fitting for Tabernacles. The final section emphasizes Jesus’s deity and temple-related themes fitting for Hanukkah. Various structural considerations also support the three-part structure and associated festivals. For example, chapters 1–5 are structured around a Passover journey to Jerusalem; 6:1–12:11 is structured around a festival cycle where the Tabernacles feast held the most prominent place; and 12:12–21:25 occurs almost entirely in Jerusalem, the central location for the events commemorated by Hanukkah.

These conclusions are important because recognizing structural indicators in a piece of literature can contribute immensely to understanding its meaning. This article only scratches the surface of seeing the Jewish feasts as central to John. Further research is needed for the first two parts of John and especially for examining the Hanukkah festival within the context of the Johannine Holy Week. Additional research should explore Johannine discipleship in light of John’s three sections and accompanying festivals.

Notes

1. Johannes Beutler, A Commentary on the Gospel of John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017), 4–8.
2. The unnamed feast in 5:1 and, to a lesser extent, the Passover feast in 2:13 are sometimes also included in the cycle of feasts.
3. Fernando F. Segovia, “The Journey(s) of the Word of God: A Reading of the Plot of the Fourth Gospel,” Semeia 53 (1991): 37–45; see also Fernando F. Segovia, “The Journey(s) of Jesus to Jerusalem: Plotting and Gospel Intertextuality,” in John and the Synoptics, ed. Adelbert Denaux, Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium 101 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1992), 535–41.
4. For a discussion of macrochiasm in general and in John in particular, see Wayne A. Brouwer, “The Chiastic Structure of the Farewell Discourse in the Fourth Gospel, Part 1,” Bibliotheca Sacra 175.698 (2018): 195–214. For the Gospel of Luke having a generally triadic macrostructure with a travel narrative as the middle element, see Adelbert Denaux, “The Delineation of the Lukan Travel Narrative within the Overall Structure of the Gospel of Luke,” in Studies in the Gospel of Luke: Structure, Language and Theology (Berlin: LIT, 2010), 3–37. For a discussion of chiastic ring composition structure with an emphasis on a middle element in classical Greco-Roman literature and possible similarities in Luke and Acts, see Kenneth R. Wolfe, “The Chiastic Structure of Luke-Acts and Some Implications for Worship,” Southwestern Journal of Theology 22.2 (1980): 60–71. For a triadic macrostructure for the Old Testament as a whole, see Lester L. Grabbe, “The Law, the Prophets, and the Rest: The State of the Bible in Pre-Maccabean Times,” Dead Sea Discoveries 13.3 (2006): 319–38. For a triadic macrostructure in Matthew see Jeffrey A. Dukeman, Mutual Hierarchy: A New Approach to Social Trinitarianism (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2019), 130–62.
5. While arguing that each of the three sections corresponds to a particular feast, I allow that the feasts relate to each other in such a way that all three feasts and their corresponding themes are present throughout the Gospel. Furthermore, al-though this article will focus on festival contexts, this does not deny that other factors could also provide a basis for the proposed macrostructure.
6. See the chapter, “Jesus, the Passover Theme, and John’s Gospel,” in Stanley E. Porter, John, His Gospel, and Jesus: In Pursuit of the Johannine Voice (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 198–224. Porter observes that commentators find Passover themes in the Gospel chiefly in chapters 1 and 19, while Porter himself finds Passover themes throughout John.
7. Translations of Scripture are from the English Standard Version unless otherwise noted.
8. Gerry Wheaton, The Role of Jewish Feasts in John’s Gospel, Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 162 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015), 16.
9. Porter, John, His Gospel, and Jesus, 207.
10. For a discussion of the close relationship between the Exodus and God as Creator in the biblical narrative, see Terence E. Fretheim, “The Reclamation of Creation: Redemption and Law in Exodus,” Interpretation 45.4 (1991): 354–65.
11. See also 1 Corinthians 10:2, which connects baptism, water, and the Exodus.
12. Passover is instituted in Exodus 12:1–28 and 12:43–51; these two passages bracket the tenth sign and the narration of the Exodus in 12:29–42.
13. On the literary unity of John 2–4, see especially Wheaton, Role of Jewish Feasts, 52–54. “It is striking that so brief and carefully constructed a story as the wedding of Cana should contain so many words and themes that occur again only in chapters 3–4” (Wheaton, 53).
14. Wheaton, 61. Wheaton makes a connection between water, John the Baptist, baptizing, Cana, and Jesus’s words to Nicodemus.
15. For the significance of the ten plagues in Egypt referred to primarily as “signs” in Exodus, see Terence E. Fretheim, “The Plagues as Ecological Signs of Historical Disaster,” Journal of Biblical Literature 110.3 (1991): 385–96.
16. Contrast Matthew 14:28–29 and Luke 8:23, 25. Beutler notes Jesus’s sea miracle in John differs from its synoptic parallels by stressing the theophany rather than the power of Jesus over the wind and the waves. John, 170.
17. See also John 3:25–36. Similarly, chapters 1–4 contain eleven of the twelve occurrences of βαπτίζω, with the only other occurrence in 10:40.
18. See Edwin Reynolds, “The Feast of Tabernacles and the Book of Revelation,” Andrews University Seminary Studies 38.2 (2000): 248–49; and Wheaton, Role of Jewish Feasts, 128–9. See also Catherine Cory, “Wisdom’s Rescue: A New Reading of the Tabernacles Discourse (John 7:1–8:59),” Journal of Biblical Literature 116.1 (1997): 114–5.
19. Wheaton claims many scholars have noted John 6 and 7 deal with wilderness and new Exodus themes. Role of Jewish Feasts, 130.
20. Seven interconnected “I am” statements are often identified in John (6:35; 8:12; 10:9–11; 11:25; 14:6; 15:5).
21. Jesus’s encounter with Nicodemus in John 3 conspicuously involves only Jesus and Nicodemus. The case is similar with Jesus and the Samaritan woman in John 4, although the end of the story begins to open up to a wider audience. Similarly, the miracle in John 5 occurs in the relatively confined space of a pool.
22. Andreas J. Köstenberger argues that in John 6 Jesus is instructing the Twelve about the nature of the ministry they would eventually face. Encountering John: the Gospel in Historical, Literary, and Theological Persepctive (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1999), 99. Francis J. Moloney points out John 6:1 introduces a new setting (the Sea of Galilee), a new set of characters (the multitude), and a change in time (the Passover). Signs and Shadows: Reading John 5–12 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), 30.
23. On the themes of grumbling and God mentoring Israel in the wilderness, see Deuteronomy 8:1–6 and 1 Corinthians 10:1–11.
24. Wheaton, Role of Jewish Feasts, 129, quoting Gale A. Yee, Jewish Feasts and the Gospel of John (Wilmington, DE: Glazier, 1989), 82.
25. Deuteronomy 8:15–16 brings together the wilderness, manna, and the water from the rock. Wheaton connects the water coming from the struck rock and the wilderness theme. Role of Jewish Feasts, 147–54.
26. For example, see Reynolds, “Tabernacles and the Book of Revelation,” 255–56.
27. Beutler, John, 204.
28. Benjamin M. H. Kim points out that when “the light of the world” (Jesus) shines, some—like the blind man—see, while others—who think they see—are blinded by the light (John 9). Kim asserts that this theme flows continuously and cohesively from the treatment of the Feast of Tabernacles in John 8 and prepares the way for 10:1–21, where the elite Jews/Pharisees are “thieves and robbers” who exercise their leadership blindly and have yet to receive Jesus’s light. “Disciples and Discipleship in the Fourth Gospel in Light of the Shift of Christological Understanding Resulting from the Resurrection of Jesus” (PhD diss., Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, 2003), 124–26.
29. Christopher M. Blumhofer sees John 7:1–10:21 as a distinct section and titles it “Jesus: The Hope of Sukkot/The Deceiver of the People.” The Gospel of John and the Future of Israel, Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 177 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2020).
30. Wheaton, Role of Jewish Feasts, 160–2.
31. Richard Bauckham notes that Hanukkah was unique among the Jewish festivals for celebrating the temple itself. “The Holiness of Jesus and His Disciples in the Gospel of John,” in Holiness and Ecclesiology in the New Testament, ed. Kent E. Brower and Andy Johnson (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 99.
32. The case when John 6 was shown to contain some Passover-related themes while Tabernacles remained more dominant is similar to 10:22–39 having themes from two feasts.
33. Beutler argues, based on the dissertation of Luc Devillers, that although 10:22–39 is set at Hanukkah, the verses remain a part of John’s discussion of Tabernacles, which began in 7:1. Some of the reasons listed for this are that in 10:22–39 Jesus had remained in Jerusalem, his audience was the same as earlier, Hanukkah is often connected to Tabernacles as “the second Feast of Tabernacles,” and the theme of Jesus as the Good Shepherd from the beginning of chapter 10 is taken up again. John, 206–7; see Luc Devillers, La Fête de l’Envoyé: La section johannique de la Fête des Tentes (Jean 7, 1–10, 21) et la christologie, Etudes bibliques NS 49 (Paris: Gabalda, 2002).
34. Numbers 14:11, 22 show that both Passover and Tabernacles were associated with signs. Brian C. Dennert demonstrates that 2 Maccabees associates Hanukkah with miraculous works of God and that literature both prior to and after the Gospel of John does the same. Dennert also notes that the Babylonian Talmud sometimes distances Hanukkah from biblical feasts—for example, in the prescription against fasting for Hanukkah. Something like this distancing may be evident in John as well. “Hanukkah and the Testimony of Jesus’ Works (John 10:22–39),” Journal of Biblical Literature 132.2 (2013): 439–45. Richard Bauckham views the cross as the seventh sign in John in light of 2:18. Gospel of Glory: Major Themes in Johannine Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2015), 60. But this designation in 2:18 occurs somewhat cryptically and early on in the book of signs, which leaves room for the cross and resurrection to be more associated with a different kind of miracle—a work associated with the term glory, in the book of glory that is Holy Week.
35. Dennert discusses the light theme in chapters 9–12 and questions how strong of a link exists between light and Hanukkah here. Hanukkah being known as the “Festival of Lights” with a widespread emphasis on light may have been a postbiblical development, especially since 10:22–39 does not mention light. “Hanukkah,” 437.
36. The public setting and missionary thrust of 12:9–11 could indicate an inclusio with 6:1–2.
37. Bauckham connects glory in John with Jesus’s death and resurrection. Gospel of Glory, 54–55, 58–61.
38. Mattathias in 1 Maccabees 2, Judah Maccabee in 1 Maccabees 9, and various other figures in 2 Maccabees 6–7 delivered significant farewell addresses to their followers. They struggled and died battling against the invading Seleucids as well as against some of their traitorous countrymen. For an example of viewing Jesus’s Farewell Discourse as having a highly polemical context, see Fernando F. Segovia, “The Structure, Tendenz, and Sitz im Leben of John 13:31–14:31, ” Journal of Biblical Literature 104.3 (1985): 471–93. For a discussion of the influence of the martyr traditions in 2 Maccabees on both the first century generally and John’s Gospel specifically, see Wheaton, Role of Jewish Feasts, 168–79.
39. For further discussion, see Wheaton, 90–91.
40. Bauckham, “Holiness of Jesus,” 95–107.
41. Bauckham, 105–6.
42. Bauckham, 98.
43. Mary L. Coloe, “Temple Imagery in John,” Interpretation 63.4 (2009): 368–81; and Mary L. Coloe, God Dwells with Us: Temple Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 2001).
44. Bauckham argues, “The reference to Jesus’s consecration [in John 10:36] in the context of the feast of Hanukkah must certainly be connected with the theme of Jesus as the new Temple, fulfilling the meaning of the Jerusalem Temple with eschatological newness, that runs prominently through the Gospel of John.” “Holiness of Jesus,” 106–7. Bauckham says that of the temple’s two main meanings, presence of God with people and sacrifices allowing them to approach the temple, Hanukkah relates to the latter. Bauckham here cites Coloe’s work but explicitly disagrees with her argument that John emphasizes both temple themes. I side with Coloe on this issue, especially given the extensive dwelling language used in John 14–17, which is analyzed in the next section.
45. See also Gary W. Derickson, “Viticulture and John 15:1–6, ” Bibliotheca Sacra 153.609 (1996): 34–52.
46. Bauckham notes that the word “consecrate” occurs four times in John, at the Hanukkah feast in 10:36, in 17:17, and twice in 17:19. Bauckham connects all these passages together in a Hanukkah context and argues that Jesus cleanses the disciples before consecrating them. “Holiness of Jesus,” 95–99.
47. Bauckham, 108–12.
48. Coloe, “Temple Imagery,” 374. See also Coloe, God Dwells with Us, 157–78.
49. Coloe, “Temple Imagery,” 377.
50. Coloe, 375.
51. Coloe, 374–76. Coloe cites as an example of this dwelling John 14:10, 17, 23, 25. Other relevant passages according to Coloe’s criteria are 15:4–7, 9–10, 16.
52. John 17 seems to contain an especially strong emphasis on Hanukkah in the Farewell Discourse, as it has various echoes of the Hanukkah feast in 10:22–39. It repeatedly refers to such things as glory, indwelling, consecration, and the deity of the Son.
53. The other Gospels record it was a crowd that came to arrest Jesus. For other instances where John seems to add military or battle imagery to the passion narrative when the Synoptics lack it, see 18:12, 22, 25, 36; 19:1–2, 6, 10–11, 23–25, 32–34. This is significant because Hanukkah was clearly a feast that remembered a war involving an invading foreign power and defection by some Israelites to the side of the invading foreign power. In John, from a historical perspective, Rome is an occupying foreign power, and various leaders of the Jews defect from God by not believing in Jesus (although, from a discipleship perspective, it might be said that all human beings can see themselves in the treachery evident in the Johannine passion narrative, since Jesus dies for all and wins the war against the sin of all).
54. See also Joshua J. F. Coutts, The Divine Name in the Gospel of John: Significance and Impetus, Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 2.447 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017).
55. The blasphemy of Antiochus Epiphanes was associated with forcefully invading the temple and defiling it. The Johannine passion seems to have something similar in view with the sins of Pilate, the Jewish leaders, and, in a discipleship reading, even the disciples and all people. For another instance of Jesus’s deity being asserted in a case involving treachery, see the resurrection appearance to Thomas in 20:24–29.
56. Coloe, “Temple Imagery,” 377–81. See also Coloe, God Dwells with Us, 179–212.
57. Coloe, “Temple Imagery,” 379.
58. Coloe, 380.

Household Dynamics In Ancient Israel: Genesis 34 As A Case Study

By Elizabeth H. P. Backfish

[Elizabeth H. P. Backfish is associate professor of Hebrew Bible, Jessup University, Rocklin, California.]

Abstract

In many respects ancient Israelite households were quite different from their modern, Western counterparts. This article explores the overall structure and ideology of ancient Israelite households, as well as the roles of its individual members. Genesis 34 provides a case study. Interpreting the story of Dinah’s defilement in light of the cultural conventions of marriage, family protection and honor, and household solidarity helps clarify some of the difficult household dynamics in the narrative so that it can be read, taught, and preached with greater understanding.

* * *

Those who teach and preach biblical texts are bridge-builders. They build two bridges. The first bridge takes congregants and classrooms back to the original historical and cultural contexts of the biblical texts, helping them understand Scripture on its own terms. Of course those who trek are always carrying a backpack full of their own cultural presuppositions and conventions, and they wear sunglasses that color how they see the ancient world. Even so, this first bridge, when built well, can help take people to a greater understanding of the biblical text in its ancient world. The second bridge takes congregants and classrooms back to their own worlds, helping them apply the ancient texts of Scripture to the specific needs of their communities.

This article will focus on that first bridge, with a particular destination in view—ancient Israelite households. The trek will begin by exploring the overall structure and ideology of ancient Israelite households. Next, the particular roles of each household member will be explored. Finally, Genesis 34 will provide a case study to see if the outlined understanding of ancient Israelite households helps clarify the meaning and message of that story.

The Structure And Ideology Of Ancient Israelite Households

The trek back to ancient Israelite households requires readers to unload their packs of the modern, Western conception of a “household” as a nuclear family living within their own home.[1] The ancient Israelite household was generally much larger, including the extended family and any additional workers or sojourners who shared the same residence or domestic activities, and generally comprised two or three houses close together.[2]

For the ancient Israelite the home was the hub of most daily activities, so its very structure sheds light on the daily lives and functions of the household members. Houses excavated from Israel’s Iron Age (ca. 1200–586 BCE) typically have two floors and a flat roof, the second floor and roof being supported by wooden or stone pillars. The first floor had two to four rooms used for food preparation, storage, textiles, housing small livestock, and other needs. Household members typically slept on the second floor, except in hotter summer months when they could sleep on the cooler roof (2 Kgs 4:10). The second floor could also be used for light chores, and the roof could be used for drying flax (Josh 2:6). Some homes shared a wall with the city wall, and some even shared a wall with an adjoining house, much like modern day townhouses.[3]

Ancient Israelite households generally functioned on subsistence economic levels, and this meant every member of the household was an important contributor for the survival of the household. The three most important daily functions were reproduction, protection, and production.[4] Reproduction was primarily the responsibility of the matriarch and included the birthing, raising, and training of children. Protection was primarily the responsibility of the patriarch and involved protecting the household from physical harm, theft, and dishonor. Production, however, involved all members of the household and included such tasks as agriculture, animal husbandry, herding and butchering, and the making of goods such as pottery, tools, fabric, and clothing. Also essential were the tasks of food preparation and distribution, which would include storage and trade.[5]

The household, or as it was often called, the בֵּית־אָב (“house of the father”),[6] was the basic unit of ancient Israel’s overall social structure. Multiple households formed the מִשְׁפָּחָה or the clan, and multiple clans made up a tribe, and the twelve tribes made up the kingdom of Israel. Individuals were rarely seen as independent persons but rather were viewed in light of these extended social kinship structures and especially their role within the household. Matthews and Benjamin put it starkly: “The world of the Bible was dyadic, or group-oriented, which means that only members of a household, a village, and a tribe could survive. An individual without a household, a village, or a tribe was a convict sentenced to death.”[7]

Every member of the household was essential to the survival of the whole, and no member could survive without the whole. This was core to their understanding of communal solidarity, meaning that ancient Israelites thought in terms of the community rather than the individual—and in terms of “we” more than “me.” They were an interdependent social community, and they related to each other, to outsiders, and to their God in community. They were also known by their role and kinship relations within the household. They were someone’s father, someone’s wife, someone’s brother, or someone’s grandmother, and so on.[8]

This communal attitude was not only an artifact of their cultural moorings or an inevitable result of their close living quarters. It was also part of what Rogerson calls a “structure of grace,” or a means of extending God’s grace beyond the individual and beyond the household to care for the vulnerable and needy.[9] These structures of grace are seen most clearly in Israel’s laws pertaining to those outside the household. Perdue explains:

The high point of Israelite social ethics comes in the commandment to love the resident alien (Deut 10:19) as oneself (Lev 19:34), for in so doing, one actualizes God’s own love and care for the stranger, that is, the other, who lives outside the immediate protection and support of his or her own family household.[10]

Structures of grace also safeguarded individuals from falling outside the security and care of the household. For example, the practice of a kinsman redeemer (Lev 25:23–55) and the similar, sometimes overlapping, practice of levirate marriage (Deut 25:5–10) ensured care for widows and the poor and their property and inheritance.

The Roles Of Ancient Israelite Household Members

If this article has succeeded in constructing a bridge back to ancient Israelite households, then readers have hopefully noticed that ancient Israelite households were multi-generational and usually included those related by blood, marriage, and adoption, in addition to unmarried and widowed women, slaves, hired workers, concubines, and guests.

The patriarch and matriarch of the household held the most power and authority, though in different spheres. In fact, scholars today contest whether it is completely accurate to describe ancient Israelite culture as “patriarchal” because the matriarchs had a great deal of authority over their households.[11] In the Sumerian text “Instructions of Šuruppak” from the third millennium, both father and mother were likened to gods, not unlike the deep reverence we see for both parents in the book of Proverbs.[12] Israelite households were, however, patrilineal, meaning that family records and inheritance passed through the father’s line, and patrilocal, meaning that married couples lived with the husband’s family.

The patriarch was responsible for protecting the household, especially the women and the children, not only from physical danger but also from shame and scandal.[13] Matthews and Benjamin explain, “The father was responsible for the virginity or legal eligibility of the women in his household of marriage, and for the chastity or legal compliance of the women with the terms of their marriage covenants.”[14] It was the responsibility of the patriarch to identify the safe spaces for the women in his household and to protect them from dangers, in part by restricting their movements or company or (presumably) by chaperoning them in questionable circumstances.[15]

In most ancient Near Eastern cultures, the patriarch was also the one responsible for adopting or excommunicating children, recruiting workers and warriors, negotiating covenants, hosting strangers, and designating heirs.[16] He was also responsible for adjudicating matters of disobedience and judgment on household members, though often this role was shared with the matriarch.

The matriarch’s reproductive role made it necessary for her to conduct household work closer to home, where she held authority over some of the most important household matters, not least of all food production and consumption. Essentially, the matriarch functioned as the manager of household affairs, even wielding authority over the patriarch in some contexts. Proverbs 31:14–15 praises the matriarch’s ability to obtain food and provide it for all members of her household. The Egyptian poem “The Sufferer and the Soul” describes a man who orders his wife to serve him all his food at noon rather than at the time she had already prescribed for each member of the household. She refuses the man his request, and the poet exposes the husband’s folly with the concluding statement: “Why didn’t he listen?”[17] (A question that has perhaps been echoed since!) In addition to food management, the matriarch held the responsibility of teacher and storyteller, which in a culture where nothing was strictly secular, made her a resident theologian.[18]

If the matriarch and patriarch were the metaphorical pillars of the ancient Israelite household, then marriage was the mortar that held the household together. Most ancient Near Eastern marriages were arranged, negotiated through oral contract. A Sumerian proverb states, “He married for pleasure. When he thought it over he divorced.”[19] Women generally married between the ages of fourteen and twenty, and men between the ages of twenty-six and thirty-two.[20] Second millennium Nuzi records show that in the typical marriage, the father of the bride and the father of groom would negotiate the marriage, and occasionally the mother as well.[21] Only on rare occasions, such as the death of the father, would brothers take part in these negotiations.[22] For example, a Sumerian proverb states, “Girl, do not let your brother choose for you! Whom do you choose?”[23] After the marriage, which could include a multi-day feast or sometimes just the act of consummation, the couple would reside with the husband’s family.[24]

If there was a right way to marry in the ancient Near East, there were also wrong ways to marry. One prohibited means of marrying was “wife kidnapping/abduction,” either by mutual consent, which we might call “elopement,” or without the wife’s consent, which we would call rape.[25] Rape was forbidden in all ancient Near East cultures,[26] just as it is forbidden in modern cultures; but it was also in a sense normalized through its prevalence in myth, not unlike how pornography serves to normalize sexual abuse in our own culture.[27] Such marriage abductions could be avenged in various ways, depending on the marital status of the woman and the specific context, but the punishment was generally limited to the man to avoid an escalation of violence.[28] If the families so chose, negotiations could be made after the abduction for the marriage to be legitimated with subsequent consent and the payment of a bride price to the woman’s father.[29] Deuteronomy 22:28–29, which commands a man who seizes (תָּפַשׂ) and lies with (שָׁכַב) an unbetrothed woman to marry her, might reflect these general practices.

More likely, as Richter persuasively argued, seduction and premarital, consensual sex are in view in Deuteronomy 22:28–29 (cf. Exod 22:16), showing how Israel’s laws provided comparatively more protection for women against rape and abandonment.[30]

Because individuals were seen in relationship to one another, the violation of one member, such as in marriage abduction or rape, cast shame on the entire household and sent a message of political inferiority to the father of the victim’s house. In fact, the father was often considered the victim because the offense was often politically motivated. In other words, a man from one culture would sometimes abduct a woman from another culture in order to test them or to prove the enemy’s inferiority. The offense would challenge them to either submit or fight.[31] These political maneuvers were typically done by monarchs or sons of monarchs who would then retain the victim in their own household until negotiations for a marriage and political alliance could be finalized.[32]

Marriages in the ancient Near East were either exogamous (marrying outside the kinship group) or endogamous (marrying within the social group). Cultures that practice exogamy generally do so in order to gain political and economic advantage, whereas cultures that exercise endogamy are generally more concerned with inheritance. Israel practiced endogamy, as is clear especially in the ancestor narratives and the instance that Abraham’s seed not mix with the people of the land (Gen 24).[33]

Marriages ended either through divorce or death. Sumerian lawsuits show that if a husband found that his wife was not a virgin prior to betrothal, he had grounds for divorce.[34] Mesopotamian law codes permitted divorce for a variety of reasons.[35] The Torah permitted divorce for “indecency,” literally “a matter of nakedness” (Deut 24:1–4).[36]

Since women often married men who were ten to fifteen years their senior, and because women typically live longer than men, there were numerous widows.[37] Widows of child-bearing age could be wed to their deceased husband’s brother through the levirate marriage system, common in the ancient Near East,[38] and older widows often lived in the households of their children. According to several ancient Near East law codes, a widow was free to marry whomever she chose if there was no close kin.[39]

Children were a crucial component of a thriving ancient household. The average couple had two to three children who survived to adulthood.[40] Inheritance was one of the leading concerns for sons. If a couple had only daughters, the father could legally adopt a son-in-law as his official heir.[41] In some cases, daughters were given inheritance rights in the absence of sons, such as in the case with Zelophehad in Numbers 27 or in the Laws of Lipit-Ishtar.[42] For daughters, the emphasis was on their virginity.[43] It was the responsibility of the household patriarch to protect the virginity of his daughters. Indeed, a woman’s virginity was considered a resource of the household just as a man’s strength was considered a resource of the household, and not entirely his own.[44]

If a couple could not produce children, the wife could provide a surrogate, usually a concubine, to produce an heir. Aside from the child designated as the heir, children borne to the concubine would, like her, be of a lower class and thus not affect the economic basis of the household.[45] This was a legal and honorable remedy for producing an heir in the ancient Near East.[46] Another means of procuring an heir was through adoption, a common practice as evinced by the many legal texts on the topic.

In addition to the nuclear and extended family and concubines, ancient households included workers, slaves, and sojourners.[47] There were also those outside the household, so-called liminal individuals, including prostitutes and uncared for orphans and widows. These characters were liminal because they fell outside the solidarity of the typical social structure. They could not be identified as “someone’s wife,” “someone’s daughter,” or “someone’s son.”

Israel’s understanding of the household and the roles of its various members has some major theological payoffs. For example, the language of household relationships is utilized in covenant language because of its solidarity and mutual commitment. Also, when God likens himself to a “father” or a “kinsman redeemer,” one gains a much better understanding of the theological importance of those metaphors.

However, the focus of this article is primarily contextual and exegetical, and the question now pressing is “How does this understanding of ancient Israelite households help readers interpret challenging passages in the Old Testament?” In other words, having built the bridge to the cultural world of an ancient Israelite household, it is time to test it out on an actual Israelite household.

Genesis 34 As A Test Case

Genesis 34 recounts the tragic story of Jacob’s daughter, Dinah, who goes out to “see” the women of Shechem, a Hivite city of Canaanite people. Instead, the prince of the city, also named Shechem, “sees” her and rapes her. He and his father Hamor then attempt to negotiate a marriage between their households. Jacob appears unable to make a decision in the matter, and his sons step in with a deception that is true to the family tradition and, under the guise of marriage negotiations, end up avenging their sister’s honor and their household by killing all the men in Shechem and plundering all the women, children, livestock, and goods.

The cultural context of ancient Near Eastern households sheds light on four aspects of the story summarized by four questions: (1) What exactly happened? (2) Who were the responsible parties involved? (3) How should we understand the revenge of Dinah’s brothers? (4) Where are some of the voices we might expect to hear in this story? Each question will be addressed in turn.

What Happened?

First, what exactly was the offense and its implications for Jacob’s household? Some scholars have argued that Dinah was not raped but mutually consented to sexual relations with Shechem. The “offense” was on account of her unmarried status or her romance with an “outsider,” like an ancient Romeo and Juliet story.[48] I find this interpretation highly unlikely.[49] Genesis 34:2 says that Shechem “saw” Dinah, “took her, lay with her, and humiliated her.” The verb ענה does not always refer to forced sex, but it does in other narratives using this or similar language (e.g., Judg 19–20; 2 Sam 13).[50] The claim that Dinah put herself at risk because she “went out to see the daughters of the land” in Genesis 34:1 is not only victim-blaming but also incongruent with other women who safely and honorably go out of their households (e.g, Rebekah, Rachel, Leah, and Jael).[51] Moreover, the cultural context supports the interpretation of Shechem’s actions as rape, specifically marriage by abduction, which we have seen was practiced, especially by the nobility, as a political maneuver.

If the offense was rape against Dinah, then from our own cultural context we would expect the narrator to depict Dinah as the victim in chapter 34. However, we have trekked across the cultural bridge to ancient Israel, and according to Schneider, “In the ANE and Hebrew Bible, the ‘victim’ of a rape is the man whose woman was raped. All the laws from the ANE point to this.”[52] Dinah’s brothers see her assault as an assault on the entire household, and Jacob seems to see it as assault against himself as the patriarch of the household (v. 30). Moreover, as God’s covenant people, the shame cast on Jacob’s family was deeply religious. Three times in this passage, the narrator describes Dinah as being “defiled” or “unclean” (טמא), a term typically associated with ceremonial uncleanness. Shechem has not only committed a civil crime but a crime against the very holiness of God’s covenant family.

Dinah’s rape also made the entire household vulnerable to attack. Steinberg explains, “Anthropological studies suggest that men who are thought to be unable to control the sexual honor of their women are also thought to be unable to defend themselves against attacks from outsiders.”[53] It is difficult to determine whether Shechem’s motivation was political or sexual or both, and the fact that he “loved” her after the assault does not clarify his motive. We can infer from the cultural context of politically-motivated rape and the brothers’ response that Shechem’s act was at least interpreted as a political power play that could not be ignored without admitting submission to Hamor and Shechem.[54] Shechem had not only taken Dinah’s honor but the honor of the men who protected her and the entire household.

Shechem’s attempt to marry Dinah was also wrong within Israel’s practice of endogamous marriage. It is clear that the people of Shechem favored exogamy because Hamor touts the economic and political benefits of such a match both to Jacob (vv. 8–10) and to the men at the gates of Shechem (vv. 21, 23). However, Israel practiced endogamy because inheritance was their highest priority, specifically, the transmission of the covenant promise and the covenant seed, promises that could be threatened if Jacob’s family did not remain holy and set apart from the people around them. This story illustrates the dangers of marrying the “wrong” husband and functions as the counterpart to the story of Esau marrying the “wrong” wife in chapter 26 (cf. Gen 34:2). In both stories the effects of the “wrong marriages” are felt most acutely by the patriarch of the household (cf. Gen 28:8).

Who Were The Responsible Parties?

The second take-away from this cultural bridge-building pertains to the responsible party for marriage negotiations and revenge. In 34:5 it seems strange that upon hearing about Dinah’s rape, Jacob remained silent without the input of his sons, who were in the fields. When Hamor and Shechem came to negotiate a proposed marriage, they initially came to speak with Jacob (v. 6) but ended up speaking to both Jacob and his sons (vv. 8–11). In fact, Jacob did not say or do anything—anything!—until the very end of the narrative when he reprimanded Simeon and Levi for putting him in danger (v. 30). Jacob’s silence and inaction seem strange given that it was primarily the patriarch’s responsibility to negotiate marriage. Perhaps it is this unusual silence that prompted Dinah’s brothers to assume the role of marriage negotiator and patriarch, even referring to Dinah as “our daughter” in verses 16 and 17.[55]

The responsibility for revenge also fell to the patriarch. Middle Assyrian laws even exhibit lex talionis (or “eye for an eye”) to the letter by allowing the victim’s father to rape the rapist’s wife and take her as his own wife,[56] which expands on the widespread practice of forcing rapists to marry their victims.[57] Essentially, both parties would be exchanging women, and both men (by our modern standards) would be rapists. Jacob seems to interpret the burden of revenge to be his own when he reprimanded Simeon and Levi in Genesis 34:30. From a cultural standpoint, Jacob’s passivity in the marriage negotiations and in the revenge seems out of place and may explain why his sons assumed his responsibilities and perhaps even status of patriarch.

How Are Readers To Interpret The Revenge Of Dinah’s Brothers?

The third part of this story that this culture bridge elucidates is the revenge of Dinah’s brothers. Should the reader see their revenge as an honorable act in its cultural context? From a modern, Western standpoint, the most dubious aspects of their revenge are the use of deception and the severity of the revenge. Both will be addressed in turn. First, deception was—perhaps surprisingly—viewed positively in some circumstances as one of the few weapons of the weaker side. Matthews and Benjamin explain, “Hebrew villagers lived on the margins of their social world. Like all marginalized people, they admired the clever who improved themselves at the expense of the establishment. Cleverness was the wisdom of the powerless.”[58] Williams has convincingly shown that, within the book of Genesis, the narrator views deception positively when the deceiver is righting a deception against him or herself.[59]

While the deception employed in the revenge may have been culturally acceptable, the severity or extent of the revenge was not. The punishment far outstripped the crime, even escalating the original crime of Shechem. However, some scholars argue that the narrator viewed the brothers’ revenge positively. In an intense debate with Fewell and Gunn in the early 1990s, Sternberg argued that Simeon and Levi are the heroes of the story, representing justice.[60] According to Longman, the brother’s question at the conclusion of the narrative (Gen 34:31) implies a negative answer, that no, Shechem should not make their sister like a prostitute and, therefore, their escalated revenge was justified.[61] The book of Judith also condones the brothers’ extent of revenge, identifying God as the one who “gave a sword” to Simeon to avenge the defilement of Dinah (Jdt 9:2).

However, at least five things suggest that the extent of their revenge should not be viewed positively. First, ancient Near East law prohibited the escalation of retribution, most notably through the widespread practice of lex talionis. With regard to rape, Hittite Law prohibited punishment beyond the perpetrator, stating: “If anyone elopes with a woman, and a group of supporters goes after them, if three or two men are killed, there shall be no compensation: ‘You (singular) have become a wolf.’ ”[62] Second, the escalation of their revenge results in exponentially more rapes than the initial one, not unlike the escalation from one rape in Judges 19 of the Levite’s concubine to the rape of six hundred women by the end of that similar narrative. Third, Jacob may not answer his sons in Genesis 34 (after all, he is pretty tongue-tied throughout the entire episode), but he does finally call them out at the end of his life in 49:5–7. Fourth, according to Alter, the brothers’ unanswered question in 34:31 might better be explained as a narrative means of emphasizing Jacob’s impotence, a critique of Jacob but not necessarily a commendation of their actions.[63] Fifth, and finally, Richter argues that Mesopotamian law was much more focused on revenge, whereas biblical law, particularly Deuteronomic law, was more concerned with purging evil from Israel’s midst.[64] The motives of Dinah’s brothers seem much more aligned with Mesopotamian law, even exceeding it.

Where Are The Missing Voices?

As for the fourth question, the cultural context of ancient households also sheds light on three missing voices in the text. First, the voice of Leah. Since the patriarch of the household was the one primarily responsible for the marriage negotiations of his daughters and for avenging anyone who would harm them, it is not entirely surprising that Leah is silent in this story. Still, there are some indications that the matriarch had more say in such dealings than the legal codes explicated. For example, in Sumerian Love Songs, it is the mother of the bride-to-be who negotiates marriage terms with a messenger from the groom’s household.[65] Hittite Law also shows that mothers shared in these matters of responsibility.[66] In fact, according to Haase, a mother may have had more influence and responsibility than the father when marrying off a daughter in Hittite and other Levant cultures.[67] Leah’s silence in Genesis 34 is therefore curious.

Dinah’s voice is also silent throughout the entire narrative. She does not give consent to Shechem, and she is not consulted or even present when marriage negotiations or plans for vengeance are being made. Again, from a cultural perspective we might expect her to possibly have some input in the matter. One thinks of Rebekah when both of her parents and her brother ask her if she will go with Abraham’s servant in order to be Isaac’s wife (24:58) or when the servant in that same story recognized the possibility that Rebekah might chose not to marry Isaac (v. 39). Sumerian love poetry also shows that women had some choice, some voice in the matter.[68] In chapter 34 Dinah has no voice.

Readers are left wondering not only, “Where is Dinah’s voice?” but also, “Where is her role within the household?” In this passage alone, Dinah is referred to as someone’s daughter seven times by the narrator, by Dinah’s brother, and by Hamor. However, Shechem never once referred to Dinah as a daughter of anyone. He called her “this girl” (v. 4) and “this young maiden” (v. 12). By the end of the narrative, no one referred to Dinah as anyone’s daughter, not even the narrator. In verse 26 when her brothers kill all of the men of the city, the narrator simply said that “they took Dinah from the house of Shechem and they went out.” Once again she has been “taken,” once again there is a “going out,” but now Dinah seems to be a liminal character, no one’s daughter and no one’s wife. As the text is clear to emphasize, she has been defiled (vv. 5, 13, 27).[69]

The third voice that is completely silent in this narrative is the voice of God, which is typical in rape narratives.[70] This lacunae seems quite intentional, especially since God is mentioned immediately before and immediately after this story (33:20; 35:1). However, in chapter 34 God is neither mentioned nor consulted.

Conclusion

Preaching or teaching this text is always going to be hard. It should be. Building a bridge to the biblical world can help pastors and educators to understand the text in its own terms before applying it to their own terms and their own lives. Understanding the cultural context of ancient Near Eastern households helps to elucidate some of the troubling dynamics in the story—the political power plays at work, the solidarity that the entire household felt when one person was shamed or defiled, and the deafening silences of some of the main characters.

From a pastoral perspective, the cultural context of Genesis 34 also leaves the reader wondering, “Where is God’s grace in this chapter?” There was no grace in the rapist, no grace in the community that enabled him, no grace in the father that should have protected his daughter and instead did nothing, no grace in the mother who was silenced, and no grace in the brothers, whose revenge resulted in further rape and suffering. How does one teach or preach a passage that seems so devoid of God’s grace? It seems that this passage compels the reader to search for grace and long for grace outside of this chapter—the grace that comes before this passage in God’s promises to Abraham; the grace that comes after this passage in his continued faithfulness and redemption of his people, Israel; and especially, the grace made manifest in Jesus Christ, who bridged a chasm far greater than anyone else could ever traverse and who enables his people to read passages like Genesis 34 with hope.

Notes

1. Much of the information in this section is from a chapter in a book by Elizabeth H. P. Backfish and Cynthia Shafer-Elliott (Baker Academic, forthcoming).
2. John Goldingay, Israel’s Gospel, vol. 1 of Old Testament Theology (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003), 438.
3. Carol Meyers, “The Family in Early Israel,” in Families in Ancient Israel, ed. Leo G. Perdue, et al., Family, Religion, and Culture Series (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 14–15. See also J. David Schloen’s extensive monograph detailing the physical and social structures of various peoples of the ancient Levant, The House of the Father as Fact and Symbol: Patrimonialism in Ugarit and the Ancient Near East, Studies in the Archaeology and History of the Levant 2 (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2001).
4. Carol Meyers, “Procreation, Production, and Protection: Male-Female Balance in Early Israel,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 51.4 (1983): 569–93.
5. Religious ritual was another household function in the ancient world that would have been integrated with every aspect of life. This included special occasion feasts, sacrifices, and, in many cases, household idolatry.
6. The household was also occasionally called theבֵּית־אֵם or “house of the mother” (Gen 24:28).
7. Victor H. Matthews and Don D. Benjamin, Social World of Ancient Israel: 1250–587 BCE (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1993), xviii.
8. Meyers, “The Family in Early Israel,” 22.
9. John Rogerson, “The Family and Structures of Grace in the Old Testament,” in The Family in Theological Perspective, ed. Stephen C. Barton (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 36.
10. Leo G. Perdue, “The Household, Old Testament Theology, and Contemporary Hermeneutics,” in Families inAncient Israel, 234; cf. Deuteronomy 24:17–22.
11. Carol Meyers, Discovering Eve: Ancient Israelite Women in Context (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 42–45; cf. the updated and expanded version titled Rediscovering Eve (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), which maintains the same point. Richard S. Hess agrees, saying, “It seems unlikely that Israelite society and its families are accurately described as consistently patriarchal.” “The Family in the Old Testament as a Theological Model for Covenant Community,” in Interpreting the Old Testament Theologically: Essays in Honor of Willem A. VanGemeren, ed. Andrew T. Abernethy (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2018), 272. See also Matthews and Benjamin, Social World, 23. Richard Haase says that Hittite law reflects the same kind of (near) equality, at least within the household: “On the one hand, in the realm of private law the position of women is close to equality with men. On the other hand, the husband may kill his adulterous wife on the spot without a trial (HL 197).” “Anatolia and the Levant: The Hittite Kingdom,” in AHistory of Ancient Near Eastern Law, Handbuch der Orientalistik 72 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 1:636. Also, in Ugarit women seem to have enjoyed the same basic rights as men, including participating in the court system, owning land, and having inheritance rights, with the exception of holding public office (Ignacio Márquez Rowe, “Anatolia and the Levant: Ugarit,” in AHistory of Ancient Near Eastern Law, 1:723).
12. Marten Stol, Women in the Ancient Near East, trans. Helen and Mervyn Richardson (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2016), 155.
13. Matthews and Benjamin, Social World, 12.
14. Matthews and Benjamin, 13.
15. Matthews and Benjamin, 13.
16. Matthews and Benjamin, 8–10. In some cultures, even a biological child was not considered viable until the father officially adopted it. If he did not, then the midwife would leave the child in an open field, making it available for adoption by another family. Such a scenario seems inconceivable to modern ears, but the imagery of Ezekiel 16:3–5 of Israel being a child left in a field for Yahweh to adopt seems to reflect this practice.
17. Matthews and Benjamin, 25.
18. Matthews and Benjamin, 29.
19. Stol, Women, 64.
20. Stol, 66.
21. Stol, 68. The laws of Ešnunna also claim that the father must grant permission for a marriage to be deemed valid. Stol, 75.
22. Laws of Lipit-Ishtar (LL) B xvii 19–20, M ii 5–9 (§23) in Martha T. Roth, Law Collections from Mesopotamia and Asia Minor, 2nd ed., Society of Biblical Literature Writings from the Ancient World Series (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997), 30.
23. Stol, Women, 72; Haase, “Anatolia and the Levant,” 637; Hittite Laws (HL) §28 and §37 in Roth, Law Collections, 221–22.
24. According to John Goldingay, although it was the woman who would physically leave her home, probably Genesis 2:24 says the man will leave his mother and cleave to his wife because the man would need the charge to emotionally leave his mother. Israel’s Life, vol. 3 of Old Testament Theology (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), 353.
25. Stol, Women, 259; Alice Ogden Bellis, Helpmates, Harlots, and Heroes, 2nd ed (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2007), 76; Laws of Eshnunna (LE), A ii 29–37, B ii 102 (§26–28), in Roth, Law Collections, 63.
26. Deuteronomy 22:25–29; Laws of Hammurabi (LH), xxviii 54–67 (§130); Middle Assyrian Laws (MAL) ii 14–24 (§12); HL §197, in Roth, Law Collections, 106, 157, 237. However, a double-standard generally existed wherein women would be punished for consensual sex with seducing men, whereas men would not be punished for consensual sex with seducing women. MAL ii 58–66 (§16), in Roth, 158–59.
27. In three separate Sumerian myths, a goddess is raped, either by a god or by a human: “Enki and Ninhursaĝa” and “Inana and Šukaletuda” and “Inlil and Ninlil,” Stol, Women, 264; Alhena Gadotti, “Why It Was Rape: The Conceptualization of Rape in Sumerian Literature,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 129.1 (2009): 73–78.
28. “If anyone elopes with a woman, and a group of supporters goes after them, if three or two men are killed, there shall be no compensation: ‘You (singular) have become a wolf.’ ” HL §37, in Roth, Law Collections, 222.
29. Haase, “Anatolia and the Levant,” 637.
30. Sandra L. Richter, “Rape in Israel’s World . . . And Ours: A Study of Deuteronomy 22:23–29, ” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 64.1 (2021): 69; see also Gordon P. Hugenberger, who argues that Tamar’s desperate plea to marry Amnon in 2 Samuel 13:16 shows that it was within a woman’s prerogative to marry her rapist, but it was not mandated by law. Marriage as a Covenant: Biblical Law and Ethics as Developed from Malachi, Biblical Studies Library (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1994), 257.
31. Matthews and Benjamin explain that “the challenge itself was an acknowledgement that the household being pressed was honorable, and therefore worthy of the challenge.” Social World, 180.
32. Matthews and Benjamin, 181.
33. Naomi A. Steinberg, Kinship and Marriage in Genesis: A Household Economics Perspective (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 12.
34. Stol, Women, 105.
35. Márquez Rowe, “Anatolia and the Levant: Ugarit,” 726. In Nuzi a man could divorce his primary wife even if she bore him children (Stol, Women, 68). In the Laws of Hammurabi a man could divorce a secondary wife who had borne him children or a first-ranking wife who had not borne him children, but he would need to compensate either one, typically with the return of her dowry (LH xxix 74–xxx24 [§137–138], in Roth, Law Collections, 107). In some cases, such as in the Middle Assyrian Laws, men were not obligated to offer compensation (MAL, v 15–19 [§37], in Roth, 107, 166–67).
36. Richter, “Rape in Israel’s World,” 67, 69. Divorce was not permitted in cases where men seduced unbetrothed women (Deut 22:19, 29).
37. Stol, Women, 66.
38. HL §193, in Roth, Law Collections, 236.
39. Victor H. Matthews, The Cultural World of the Bible, 4th ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2015), 76.
40. Stol, Women, 154. Old Babylonian records show an average of three children whereas middle Assyrian records show an average of 2.22 children. According to Matthews and Benjamin, the average number of birthed children was four, whereas the average number of children surviving to adulthood was two. Social World, 74.
41. Stol, Women, 160.
42. The Laws of Lipit-Ishtar (LL) date to 1930 BCE, from Isin. §b. Roth, Law Collections, 24.
43. Stol, Women, 105; Matthews and Benjamin, Social World, 14.
44. Richter, “Rape in Israel’s World,” 73.
45. Steinberg, Kinship and Marriage, 15.
46. Matthews and Benjamin, Social World, 32.
47. Matthews and Benjamin, 134; Susan Niditch, “Genesis,” in Women’s Bible Commentary, ed. Carol A. Newsom, Sharon H. Ringe, and Jacqueline E. Lapsley (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2012), 41.
48. David Noel Freedman, “Dinah and Shechem, Tamar and Amnon,” Austin Seminary Bulletin 105.2 (1990): 54; Tikva Simone Frymer-Kensky, Reading the Women of the Bible (New York: Schocken Books, 2002), 182.
49. It is also recognized that “rape” is not necessarily the most accurate term to use in this circumstance, since it probably would have been considered “theft” of a household asset. Alison Joseph explains, “Women in ancient Israel did not have legal or sexual autonomy—the power to give or refuse consent. Their sexual consent belonged to their fathers and brothers and later husbands.” “ ‘Is Dinah Raped?’ Isn’t the Right Question: Genesis 34 and Feminist Historiography,” in Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 19 (2019): 29. The terminology of “rape” is maintained because that is what nonconsensual sex is called in Western culture, even if it is a cultural “translation.”
50. Ellen Van Wolde, “Does ‘innâ Denote Rape? A Semantic Analysis of a Controversial Word,” Vetus Testamentum 52.4 (2002): 536. Like many words, ענה has a wide range of meaning, used often in a general sense of “humbling” or “lowering in status.” However, in collocations with words denoting taking and lying with, wherein the woman is not culpable in the aftermath, forced sex seems to be clear. Genesis 34:2 is included among examples (including the above-referenced Judg 29:24; 20:5; 2 Sam 13:12, 14, 22, 32) where ענה means “to rape a woman” (Ludwig Koehler, Walter Baumgartner, and Johann Jakob Stamm, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, trans. and ed. M. E. J. Richardson [Leiden: Brill, 1995], 2:853).
51. Leah Rediger Schulte, The Absence of God in Biblical Rape Narratives (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2017).
52. Tammi J. Schneider, “Human Trafficking and Women in the Ancient Near East,” Conversations with the Biblical World 36 (2016): 190–91; cf. Richter, “Rape in Israel’s World,” 73.
53. Steinberg, Kinship and Marriage, 110–11.
54. Matthews and Benjamin explain, “Rape in the world of the Bible was not simply an act of sexual violence, but a political challenge to the father of a household.” Social World, 178.
55. While there is much more evidence in ancient law codes supporting the father’s responsibility in marriage negotiations, and occasionally the mother’s as well, there is also evidence for grown sons on occasion to share the patriarch’s responsibility, which seems to at least be the perspective of Jacob’s sons in this passage. Stol, Women, 73.
56. MAL viii 6–41 (§55), in Roth, Law Collections, 174–175.
57. E.g., A Sumerian Laws Exercise Tablet v 3–35 (§7–8), in Roth, 44.
58. Matthews and Benjamin, Social World, 17.
59. Michael James Williams, Deception in Genesis: Investigation into the Morality of a Unique Biblical Phenomenon, Studies in Biblical Literature 32 (New York: Lang, 2001). Modern missionaries serving amidst oppressed people groups also attest to this perspective, which is difficult to see from the position of privilege most of us enjoy.
60. Danna Nolan Fewell and David M. Gunn, “Tipping the Balance: Sternberg’s Reader and the Rape of Dinah,” Journal of Biblical Literature 110.2 (1991): 193–211; Meir Sternberg, “Biblical Poetics and Sexual Politics: From Reading to Counterreading,” Journal of Biblical Literature 111.3 (1992): 463–88.
61. Tremper Longman III, Genesis, The Story of God Bible Commentary, ed. Tremper Longman III and Scot McKnight (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2016), 431. Likewise, Alison Joseph argues, “The absence of the narrator’s judgment in Gen 34 should be seen as a silent endorsement of their actions.” “ ‘Is Dinah Raped?’ Isn’t the Right Question,” 34.
62. HL §37, in Roth, Law Collections, 222.
63. Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative, rev. ed. (New York: Basic Books, 2011), 200.
64. Richter, “Rape in Ancient Israel,” 71–72.
65. Stol, Women, 73.
66. “If a daughter has been promised to a man, but another man turns off with her, he who runs off with her shall give to the first man whatever he paid and shall compensate him. The father and mother (of the woman) shall not make compensation. If her father and mother give her to another man, the father and mother shall make compensation (to the first man). If the father and mother refuse to do so, they shall separate her from him.” HL §28 in Roth, Law Collections, 221.
67. Haase, “Anatolia and the Levant,” 635.
68. Stol, Women, 73.
69. Niditch claims, “Like a prostitute, she has become a person of outsider status, unfit to be a bride.” Women’s Bible Commentary, 41.
70. Schulte, Absence of God.