The Lexham Old Testament Apocrypha: A New Translation

The Lexham Old Testament Apocrypha: A New Translation. With Introductions by David deSilva. Lexham Academic, 2023. xix+393 pp. Pb. $17.99   Link to Lexham Academic  Link to Logos Bible Software

The Lexham Old Testament Apocrypha reprints the apocryphal books from the Lexham English Septuagint: A New Translation (ed. Ken Penner; Lexham Academic 2019). This English edition of the Apocrypha includes the Deuterocanonical books in the Catholic canon: Tobit (Shorter and Longer Versions, Judith, Baruch (and the Letter of Jeremiah), Wisdom of Sirach, 1 Maccabees, 2 Maccabees, Wisdom of Solomon, additions to Esther (Greek Esther), additions to Daniel (both Old Greek and Theodotion). The Eastern Orthodox canon also includes the Prayer of Manasseh, 1 Esdras, 2 Esdras, 3 Maccabees, 4 Maccabees, and Psalm 151. This edition also includes the non-canonical books 2 Esdras (4 Ezra), Psalms of Solomon, and Greek portions of 1 Enoch 1-32.

Apocrypha Lexham Old TestamentIn his eleven-page introduction, David DeSilva discusses the value of reading and studying the Old Testament Apocrypha. He quotes Ulrich Zwingli that the Apocrypha contains “much that is true and useful—that serves piety of liked and honesty” (from the preface to the 1531 Zurich Bible). For modern readers, the books of the Apocrypha open a window on history, social, political, and theological tensions of Jewish people in the latter half of the Second Temple period (xii). Although there are no clear quotations from the Apocrypha in the New Testament, early Christians read these books were read and valued them. He offers several examples of ethical teaching in the Apocrypha that resonates with the New Testament. Compare Tobit 4:8-10 and Matthew 6:19-20. For example. deSilva warns readers, however, that there are sometimes significant differences between the Apocrypha and the New Testament.  deSilva also provides short introductions for each book. deSilva is well known for his Introducing the Apocrypha (Second Edition, Baker Academic, 2018; see my review of the first edition). The introductions are all less than a page and offer a date and origin for the book, as well as key features that are of interest to Christian readers.

The 2019 Lexham English Septuagint did not include 2 Esdras. This new volume provides a translation adapted from the public domain Cambridge Paragraph Bible (1873), and the Revised Version (1895), both based on the Latin text of the Clementine Vulgate. 2 Esdras 7:36–106 is missing from the Clementine Vulgate, but it appears in the 1895 critical edition and was translated in the Revised Version of 1895. The ubiquitous Jacob Cerone wrote the headings to 2 Esdras and worked with Douglas Mangum to revise the translation. 2 Esdras is a complicated book, with a Jewish apocalypse (ch. 3-14) and a Christian frame. See this on the Christian introduction (ch. 1-2) and (ch. 15-16).

Like the Lexham English Septuagint, his volume includes the Psalms of Solomon and the Greek portions of 1 Enoch (1-32, missing ch. 4-5). Although there is no information on the source for the Psalms of Solomon (likely the Swete edition). 1 Enoch is based on the Greek text found in Codex Panopolitanus. (See this for complete translations of 1 Enoch.) The Lexham English Septuagint included 1 Enoch 89:42–49 based on the Greek text from Codex Vaticanus (Gr.1809). This small section of the Animal Apocalypse is not included in the Lexham Old Testament Apocrypha. Also missing is the Odes of Solomon, which was part of the original LES.

I prefer physical books, but there are a few advantages to reading the Apocrypha in Logos Bible Software. The text be synced to an edition of the Septuagint, providing side-by-side comparison of the Greek and English text. All of Logos’s Greek tools are therefore available, including identification of all grammatical elements and double-clicking through to your preferred lexicon.

Conclusion: The subtitle “A New Translation” is misleading since the majority of this new edition of the Apocrypha is extracted from the Lexham English Septuagint. If you already own the Lexham English Septuagint, then there is little need to add the Lexham Old Testament Apocrypha to your Logos library since they are identical, except for 2 Esdras and deSilva’s introductions. However, the printed book is an inexpensive translation of the Apocrypha (plus) which will serve students of the Second Temple period.

 

NB: Thanks to Lexham Academic for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. I purchased the Logos edition. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

 

The Ethics of the Book of Judith: Sex, Lies, and Murder

In the book of Judith, Judith is presented as a model of virtue, yet she lies repeatedly and seduces Holofernes in order to murder him. Did the author of the book of Judith intend the reader to see her as a model of virtue? Like Jael, Tamar, or Esther, Judith is a hero with a dark side.

Judith Beheading Holofernes, Caravaggio

In her prayer prior to entering the Assyrian camp, Judith tells God she has a plan and asks him to “By the deceit of my lips strike down the slave with the prince and the prince with his servant; crush their arrogance by the hand of a woman” (9:10). She more or less says, “bless my lies.”

She dresses to entice men: “she made herself very beautiful, to entice the eyes of all the men who might see her” (10:4), and the people of Bethulia prayed to God to give her success (10:8). When the Assyrian soldiers see her “she was in their eyes marvelously beautiful” (10:14). In fact, they judge Israel positively because of Judith’s beauty, “Who can despise these people, who have women like this among them?” (10:19).

Yet the people of Bethulia praise Judith and God when she returns with the general’s head in a bag. “When she had finished, the people raised a great shout and made a joyful noise in their town” (14:9). The elders of Bethulia say she has walked “the straight paths of God” (Judith 13:20). The Hebrew Bible has many examples of characters who are morally corrupt, but their actions are not praised or set up as a model to be emulated. For example, David uses his power to sleep with Bathsheba and murders her husband to cover up the affair. Even though the ultimate result of that relationship is Solomon, the greatest king of Israel, nothing in the text implies David’s adultery was a noble act. Yet Judith 15:9-10 the elders of Bethulia call Judith the “pride of our nation.”

Judith 15:9–10 When they met her, they all blessed her with one accord and said to her, “You are the glory of Jerusalem, you are the great boast of Israel, you are the great pride of our nation! 10 You have done all this with your own hand; you have done great good to Israel, and God is well pleased with it. May the Almighty Lord bless you forever!”

David deSilva suggested Judith should be read through the lens of honor and shame. Moral obligations toward God, kin, and nation differed from moral obligations to outsides (“Judith the Heroine?,” p. 56). A lie told in order to protect the honor of one’s family or one’s nation was an “honorable means” according to deSilva. He illustrates this with several stories from the Hebrew Bible in which zeal for defending the family or the nation includes lies and violence. He mentions Simeon and Levi’s defense of their sister Dinah (Gen 34) and Jael’s breech of hospitality when she killed Sisera (Judges 4-5). Although Simeon and Levi are not praised in Genesis, the Second Temple period book Testament of Levi describes Levi’s perpetual priesthood as a reward for his zeal for keeping Israel pure. In deSilva’s view, Holofernes is a threat to the honor of Israel, so the use of lies and violence to meet that challenge is acceptable and honorable. God’s honor is at stake, so Judith’s actions as she defends God’s honor are acceptable. Still, for many modern readers Judith’s use of her sexuality to seduce the general seems offensive. This this, as deSilva suggests, a case of “all’s fair in love and war”?

Geoffrey Miller suggest Judith is depicted similar to Israel’s Divine Warrior, God rising up to rescue his people in the day of distress. The writer of Judith did not intend for Judith to be an example for people to follow. (I would add here, this is unlike Daniel, who is presented in the first part of Daniel as model for resisting the empire.) For Miller, Judith’s behavior is difficult to justify (p. 232) and any attempt to do so falls short. Miller therefore argues Judith’s words are similar to divine utterance and her character is designed to evoke divine warrior theme from the Hebrew Bible.

Judith is often described as a heroic woman, “a woman who fights with a woman’s weapons, yet far from being defined by her ‘femininity,’ she uses it to her own ends.” (Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, In Memory of Her, 117).

The book of Judith is especially striking for its feminism. In creating a protagonist the author has chosen a woman, who calls to mind the Israelite heroines of the past-Judith “the Jewess.” As the narrative unfolds, Judith is consistently depicted as superior to the men with whom she is associated: Uzziah and the elders; the Assyrian army and their general. George Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature Between the Bible and the Mishnah. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), 108.

Pamela Milne, for example, is not comfortable using Judith as a feminist icon and tracks a range of views from feminist interpreters moving away from the view of Nickelsburg. She suggests that “feminist readers reject any suggestion that she is a feminist heroine or a feminist’s heroine.” (Milne, “What Shall We Do with Judith?,” 55) For Milne, Judith is still presented “from a male, patriarchal perspective” even if she is a heroic figure.

The Book of Judith should be read as part of a wide range of responses to threats to Israel in Second Temple literature. Daniel was willing to die rather than eat the king’s food or pray to the Persian emperor. In fact, there is no hint of a violent resistance in most of the book of Daniel. God’s faithful resist and are willing to die rather that cross certain boundaries. Judith represents another response to similar challenges. Perhaps God’s people ought to actively resist by any means to protect the honor of God.

Maybe I am over-reading what was intended as an entertaining story, but it seems to me the book of Judith provides support for the violent resistance of the Maccabean Revolt as opposed to the passive resistance found in Fourth Maccabees.

What would Daniel do in a similar situation?

 

Bibliography: deSilva, David A. “Judith the Heroine?: Lies, Seduction, and Murder in Cultural Perspective.” Biblical Theology Bulletin 36 (2006): 55–61; Efthimiadis-Keith, Helen. “Judith, Feminist Ethics and Feminist Biblical/Old Testament Interpretation.” Journal of Theology for Southern Africa 138 (2010): 91–111; Miller, Geoffrey David. “A Femme Fatale of Whom ‘No One Spoke Ill’: Judith’s Moral Muddle and Her Personification of Yahweh.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 39 (2014): 223–45; Milne, Pamela J. “What Shall We Do with Judith? A Feminist Reassessment of a Biblical ‘Heroine,’” Semeia 62 (1993): 36-56; Tamber-Rosenau, Caryn. “Biblical Bathing Beauties and the Manipulation of the Male Gaze: What Judith Can Tell Us about Bathsheba and Susanna.” Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 33 (2017): 55–72.

Is Judith Historically Inaccurate?

There are several obvious errors in the book of Judith. Perhaps it does not even matter if Judith is historically inaccurate. The obvious historical blunders may be ironic. “The storyteller, speculated Torrey, might even have given his listeners “a solemn wink” as he delivered his opening sentence” (Moore, “Judith, Book of,” ABD 3:1121). As David deSilva suggested, any attempt to defend the historicity of Judith is doomed to failure (Introducing the Apocrypha, 94).

There are many historical inaccuracies in the book. I list just a few here:

  • The book begins in the twelfth year of Nebuchadnezzar, ruler of Assyria and the great city of Nineveh. Nebuchadnezzar was a Babylonian king (not Assyrian), and Holofernes was a Greek (not Assyrian).
  • Holofernes marches his massive army from Nineveh to Cilicia in three days, over 300 miles (2:21). Two verses later, the army is fighting in Put and Lud, in North Africa. Remarkably, they are back in Cilicia in the next verse.
  • The author may have created the place names. Bethulia, for example, did not exist. But the name means “young woman” and maybe a hint of Judith’s victory later in the book. As Otzen says, “The topography of the book of Judith is also bewildering” (81).
  • The book claims Jerusalem can only be reached by a narrow pass, which anyone reading the book would know was geographically false.
  • The king of the Medes, Arphxad, is also fictional. The name is (probably) drawn from Genesis 10:22, one of the sons of Seth.
  • The book constantly refers to people living in Judea as the Israelites, a historical anachronism since Israel ceased to exist in 722 B.C.

How could any intelligent Jewish writer living about 150 B.C. make such a historical error as Nebuchadnezzar was king of Assyria after the Jews returned from exile? The only solution that makes sense is that these anachronisms are intentional. As Lawrence Wills puts it, “The book of Judith telescopes multiple historical epics into one imaginary frame” (Wills, Judith, 9). There is a little Assyrian assault on Jerusalem (2 Kings 18), Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonian Exile, and Antiochus IV Epiphanes.

I agree with Wills: “The author was intentionally playing with a fanciful storyline that would have been obvious to the audience” (Judith, 9). But what is the point of intentional historical errors? Should the reader look for a real historical figure behind the un-historical references to Nebuchadnezzar or Holofernes?

Wills offers the example of the Christian writer Sulpicius Severus (c. A.D. 403, Sacred History 2.16), who identified Nebuchadnezzar with Artaxerxes III Ochus of Persia (358-338 BC). It is also common for commentaries to reference Nebuchadnezzar as a reference to the Assyria king Ashurbanipal (668–626 B.C.). However, this does not solve the problem of the claim the Jews have only recently returned from exile after 539 B.C.) Since Otzen says there are at least twenty suggested historical solutions, perhaps these historical errors are not substitutions for actual historical facts.

Although Judith is an entirely fictional story, I suggest the author drew on stories of heroic women from the Hebrew Bible and well-known historical threats to the Jewish people to create a story that encourages readers to resist the empire, whatever empire happens to be oppressed at the time. Looking back at Jewish history, threats from Assyria, Babylon, Persia, and the Seleucid king Antiochus IV Epiphanes are blended together.

If the book is written just after the Maccabean revolt, perhaps the writer wanted to encourage readers to consider violence as a possible solution to threats and oppression. While Daniel encourages passive resistance and a willingness to die rather than compromise, Judith describes a woman who does what is necessary to end the threat by assassinating an Assyrian general. The historical details are fuzzy because the Jewish people are always under threat from a Gentile empire.

Do the books of Daniel and Judith represent two different approaches for Jews living in exile?

 

Bibliography: Benedikt Otzen, Tobit and Judith (Sheffield Academic, 2002); Lawrence M. Wills, Judith (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2019).

 

What is the Book of Judith?

Judith is a novella written shortly after the Maccabean revolt, probably 150-100 B.C. Carey Moore suggested Judith is reminiscent of the general spirit of the days of Judas Maccabeus” (“Judith, Book of,” ABD 3:1123). The book appears in the Apocrypha and tells the story of a threat to the Israelite village Bethulia. Judith is a beautiful widow who acts bravely and saves both her village and all of Israel from the Assyrian threat. The story is reminiscent of other Jewish women in the Hebrew Bible, including Rahab, Jael, Ruth, and Esther.

Judith 4:12 may allude to Antiochus’s desecration of the Temple in 167 B.C., “the sanctuary to be profaned and desecrated to the malicious joy of the Gentiles.” The defeat of Nicanor in 1 Maccabees 7:43-50 is remarkably similar to Judith’s assassination of Holofernes. Nebuchadnezzar demands to be worshiped as a god, recalling Daniel 3. Some place names which can be identified in the book suggest a date after 107 BC, after Alexander Janneus destroyed the Samaritan temple on Mount Gerizim. Judith is only known in Greek although Jerome was familiarity with Aramaic version of the book. It does not appear in the Qumran library and is not mentioned in rabbinic literature.

Even if Judith was rarely considered canonical, the book important for both Christians and Jews. The book was included in the Septuagint, the Latin Vulgate and the Syriac Peshitta, and appears in many early and important Greek Bible (Sinaiticus, Vaticanus, and Alexandrinus). Although it was never considered part of the Jewish canon, it is considered canonical in Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox and Ethiopian Orthodox traditions.

Moore suggests a major problem for Jewish acceptance of the book is the conversion of Achior, an Ammonite. Deuteronomy 23:2 specifically states, “no Ammonite or Moabite may enter the assembly of the Lord, even to the tenth generation.” Achior is a gentile convert to Judaism who submitted to circumcision but is not baptized. Later Halakah required both for a Gentile to become a Jew (Moore, “Judith, Book of,” ABD 3:1124).

In his recent commentary on Judith, Lawrence Wills suggests Judith may have been known by the authors of Greek Esther and Pseudo-Philo, Biblical Antiquities (Wills, Judith, 2), but there are no citations or clear allusions to Judith. He suggests the reason Judith was never canonized may be as simple as the language, since it was not written in Hebrew it was considered secondary from the beginning.

Some early readers may have found the character Judith to be too brazen (Toni Craven, Artistry and Faith in the Book of Judith, 117). Yet her actions are not too different than Ruth or Esther. She was not too brazen to keep the book out of the western Christian canon.

Both Clement of Alexandria and the council of Nicaea considered Judith canonical, as did most of the western church fathers. Luther questioned the canonicity of the book but treated it allegorically as a “passion play.” For modern Protestants, the historical anachronisms are enough to reject the book. The historical and geographical errors are a problem for anyone who holds to biblical inerrancy. However, modern studies of Judith treat these obvious errors as a sign to the reader that the story is fictional. For conservatives like Geisler and Nix, Judith is “subbiblical and, at times, even immoral,” citing God’s assistance and approval of Judith’s lies (9:10-13; A General Introduction to the Bible, Rev. ed.; [Moody, 1986], 271). It may be the case Geisler and Nix forgot about the prostitute Rahab’s lies (Joshua 2:4-7).

Even though the story of Judith is fiction, it reflects what some Jews thought about the struggle between Hellenism and Judaism. In Daniel, the four young men resisted the imposition of the empire and were willing to die rather than compromise. In Judith, resistance to the empire takes a more violent turn as Judith assassinates the Assyrian general Holofernes, forcing the invading foreigners back to their own territory.

Does story of Judith support to the Hasmoneans? Perhaps, but it may be the case the readers of Judith looked back to Judas Maccabees as the ideal defender of Israel rather than the later Hasmonaean kings.

Tobit: Remembering the Covenant

The author the book of Tobit presents Tobit as keeping the Covenant in the diaspora by consciously paralleling him to Joseph and Daniel, the two characters in the Hebrew Bible who lived in a foreign country yet remained true to the Mosaic Covenant. In both stories the hero is described as committed to the covenant and therefore as successful. Both Joseph and Daniel experience the blessings of the covenant and rise to powerful positions in the administration of a foreign government.  Their commitment to the Law creates a crisis when required to do something which is against Torah (Genesis 39, adultery; Daniel 1, unclean food; Daniel 3 and 6, prayer to an idol).  The hero is then persecuted and stripped of position, yet still remains faithful.  Because of continued faith in persecution, they are restored once again to a state of blessing.  In both the Joseph and Daniel stories, this cycle is repeated several times.

In Genesis, Joseph is selected as the heir, but his thrown into the pit by his brothers and sold into slavery.  He is appointed head over Potiphar’s house, but is then thrown into prison (also a pit).  He then rises to prominence in the prison, but is forgotten after he interprets the baker and butler’s dreams.  In Daniel, Daniel is rises higher in the government in chapters 1, 2, 5, and 6, although only 1 and 6 are in direct connection to some form of pressure on Jewish traditions. The book of Tobit should not therefore be read as “an enchanting but nonetheless esoteric romance that lies outside the mainstream of authentic Judaism,” but rather as a “well-constructed narrative in the service of Israel’s religion” (Di Lella, Tobit, 387).

The book begins with Tobit in captivity in Assyria.  Tobit claims to be the only Jew in the Diaspora who attends festivals in Jerusalem (1:6a) and to do all which the “everlasting covenant” requires (1:6b, cf. 5:14, he lists others in the Diaspora who attended festival with him). Tobit makes all of the appropriate tithes and offerings required by the Torah (1:6b-8). In Deuteronomy 14:26 the people were encouraged to come to Jerusalem and spend a “second tithe” on whatever they want, as long as the money was spent in Jerusalem (Tobit 1:7). A family might have participated in a shared sacrifice, providing them with meat for a banquet with friends and family.  While the Law required participation in all festivals (Ex 33:17; Deut. 16:16) it was unlikely anyone living outside of Jerusalem made more than one a year, Diaspora Jews even less, perhaps once in a lifetime. Yet Tobit here claims to give all three tithes required in the law in Jerusalem!  He married within this family rather than marrying either outside the clan or outside of Israel (1:9).

Like Daniel, Tobit states he has kept himself from Gentile food, despite the fact that many Jews at this potentially unclean food (1:10-11). Because he was “mindful of God” with all his heart the Lord gives him favor and good standing in the government of Shalmaneser.  The verb translated “to be mindful” in the NRSV is μιμνῄσκομαι, a verb used in the LXX to translate זכר in several key texts in Deuteronomy. For example, Deuteronomy 8:18 Moses admonishes the people to “remember (using a future passive of μιμνῄσκομαι) the Lord your God” because he is able to give them the ability to produce wealth “and so confirms his covenant which he swore to your forefathers, as it is today” (NRSV).

Remembering the Lord God is linked to production of wealth and the blessings of the covenant.  In 2:2 Tobit tells Tobias his son take some food from the feast and deliver it to the poor, to anyone who is “wholeheartedly mindful of God.” This description uses the verb “remember” to describe one the faithful among the diaspora Jews.

The book of Tobit would be an encouragement to Jewish readers living in the Diaspora to remain faithful to the covenant God gave to Israel. God still remembers his people even when they are living in exile and he will bless them when they remain “wholeheartedly mindful of God.” This may have resonated with early Christianity who sometimes described itself as “exiles” in this world (1 Peter 1:1).

Are the other examples of in Tobit of remembering the God of Israel?