SILENCED VOICES HEARING BIBLICAL WOMEN THROUGH THE GENESIS APOCRYPHON by SHELBY RENEE BENNETT B.A. Applied Linguistics, Trinity Western University, 2019 Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of MASTER OF ARTS IN BIBLICAL STUDIES in the FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES TRINITY WESTERN UNIVERSITY March 2021 © Shelby Bennett 2021 2 In memory of Rachel Held Evans You were a voice in the wilderness 1 Table of Contents Table of Contents ............................................................................................................................ 1 Glossary .......................................................................................................................................... 4 Introduction ................................................................................................................................... 6 1. What is the Genesis Apocryphon? ..................................................................................... 10 1.1 Date, Content, and Genre ................................................................................................ 10 1.2 Relationship with Other Texts ......................................................................................... 12 1.3 Editions of GenAp ........................................................................................................... 14 2. Research Overview ............................................................................................................ 15 2.1 Gender and Feminist Studies ........................................................................................... 15 2.2 Gender Studies and the Dead Sea Scrolls ........................................................................ 16 2.3 The Expansion of Women in Second Temple Literature ................................................ 17 2.4 Study of Women in the Genesis Apocryphon ................................................................. 18 2.5 Speaking into the Silence ................................................................................................ 18 3. Feminist Strategies ............................................................................................................. 19 Chapter 1: Seducers, Sirens, or Victims? Women in GenAp’s Watchers Tradition ........... 22 1. Gendered Elements of the Watchers Myth in Various Texts ............................................ 22 1.1 Genesis 6:1–4 .................................................................................................................. 23 1.2 1 Enoch 1–36 – The Book of Watchers ........................................................................... 25 1.3 The Book of Giants.......................................................................................................... 26 1.4 Jubilees ............................................................................................................................ 27 1.5 Genesis Apocryphon........................................................................................................ 28 2. Endogamous Emphasis ...................................................................................................... 30 2.1 Endogamy in the Watchers Myth .................................................................................... 31 2.2 Endogamy in Genesis Apocryphon ................................................................................. 34 2.3 Endogamy in the Aramaic Corpus at Qumran................................................................. 35 3. Seducers or Victims? ......................................................................................................... 36 3.1 Women’s Motives in the Book of Watchers ................................................................... 37 3.2 Women’s Motives in Jubilees.......................................................................................... 38 3.3 Women’s Motives in Later Literature ............................................................................. 39 3.4 Possible Motives of the Women in GenAp ..................................................................... 40 4. Fate of the Women ............................................................................................................. 42 2 4.1 Fate of the Women in the Book of Watchers .................................................................. 42 4.2 Fate of the Women in Jubilees ........................................................................................ 44 4.3 Possible Fate of the Women in GenAp ........................................................................... 45 5. Conclusion ............................................................................................................................. 46 Chapter 2: Oration, Outbursts, and Orgasm: The Active Character of Batenosh .............. 47 1. She Speaks ......................................................................................................................... 47 1.1 Noah’s Birth in 1 Enoch and Jubilees ............................................................................. 48 1.2 Batenosh as Character and Speaker in GenAp ................................................................ 50 2. How She Speaks ................................................................................................................ 51 2.1 Emotions in Jewish and Greek literature ......................................................................... 52 3. What She Says ................................................................................................................... 56 3.1 Batenosh’s Orgasm .......................................................................................................... 56 3.2 Orgasm as Proof of Conception....................................................................................... 57 3.3 Increased Significance of Women in Procreation ........................................................... 58 4. Conclusion............................................................................................................................. 59 Chapter 3: Women of the Family: Emzara and Her Daughters ............................................ 61 1. Emzara and Her Daughters in the Genesis Apocryphon ................................................... 62 1.1 Emzara ............................................................................................................................. 62 1.2 Daughters and Daughters-in-Law .................................................................................... 65 1.3 Granddaughters ................................................................................................................ 66 2. Endogamy and Female Characterization ........................................................................... 68 2.1 Endogamy in the Genesis Apocryphon ........................................................................... 68 2.2 Endogamy in Aramaic Enoch .......................................................................................... 70 2.3 Endogamy in the Aramaic Corpus at Qumran................................................................. 71 2.4 Endogamy in Tobit .......................................................................................................... 76 2.5 Endogamy in Jubilees ...................................................................................................... 80 3. Conclusion............................................................................................................................. 82 Chapter 4: Rescue, Resistance, and Restitution: Sarai’s Reality in Genesis Apocryphon .. 84 1. Sarai’s Roles and Realities in Genesis Apocryphon .......................................................... 85 1.1 Sarai as Appointed Rescuer and Dream Symbol ............................................................. 86 1.2 Sarai as Resisting Victim ................................................................................................. 89 1.3 Sarai as Object of Lust..................................................................................................... 91 3 1.4 Sarai as Restored Survivor .............................................................................................. 94 2. Conclusion............................................................................................................................. 96 Conclusion ................................................................................................................................... 98 1. Summary of Research ........................................................................................................ 98 1.1 The Women of the Watchers Myth ................................................................................. 99 1.2 Batenosh ........................................................................................................................ 100 1.3 Emzara ........................................................................................................................... 100 1.4 Sarai ............................................................................................................................... 101 2. Women of GenAp: Endogamy and Female Expansion ................................................... 101 2.1 Scribal Agenda .............................................................................................................. 102 2.2 Areas for Future Research ............................................................................................. 103 3. Voice: Retelling Foundational Stories and Rewriting the Future .................................... 104 3.1 Voices of Academia....................................................................................................... 104 3.2 Voices of Women in the Bible, Church, and World ...................................................... 106 Bibliography ............................................................................................................................... 108 4 Glossary For discussion on the need for a glossary, see Introduction, Section 3 Anachronism – The projection of a modern term or idea on an ancient culture in a way that may lead to inaccurate analysis or categorization. For example, it is anachronistic to say that Second Temple scribes who expanded the role of women were “feminists” because the concept of a modern feminist was non-existent in this time. Apocryphon – Singular form of apocrypha. Generally, a term used to denote secret knowledge or texts outside a traditional canon, Apocryphon has become more widely used among the Dead Sea Scrolls to reflect the “ancient meaning of ‘hidden’ traditions without, however, being ‘hidden’ in a more technical sense” (Stuckenbruck 2010: 160). Corpus – A collection of writings united by a particular theme, subject, language, etc. Diaspora – The Jewish people living outside the land of Israel. In a post-exilic context after the Babylonian exile, referring to the Jews still living in the lands to which they were exiled. Diluvian – Of or relating to a flood; in a biblical context, relating to Noah’s flood. Periods before and after the flood may be referred to as “antediluvian” and “postdiluvian,” respectively. Endogamy – The practice of marrying within a specific group, whether a nationality, ethnic group, tribe, clan, or family. Etiology – The study of the origins or reasons for something, often tied to a story explaining that beginning. Exogamy – The opposite of endogamy; marriage outside a specific group. Extant – Text still in existence. For example, in GenAp, column 22 is the last column available to us today because the following columns have completely deteriorated. Non-extant texts existed at one point but are no longer available. Thus, column 22 is extant, while column 23 is non-extant. Gaslighting – A psychological process wherein a person is made to question their experience or the trustworthiness of their perceptions of that experience. Hellenism – The culture and influence of ancient Greece, especially from 200 BCE to 200 CE. Intersectional – A method of analysis that accounts for multiple possible factors. In the context of gender studies, “intersectionality” generally refers to the intersection of race, class, and gender as important factors when considering means of oppression and empowerment. Incipit – The opening title (line, phrase, or words, etc.) of a text. J Source – The Yahwist source within biblical criticism’s JEDP source theory which credits different strands of the Pentateuch to four different writers or schools, typically symbolized by the letters J, E, D, and P. 5 Kyriarchy – Coined by Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, “kyriarchy” uses the Greek word kurios meaning ‘lord’ to refer to the power dynamic and structure formed by oppression more intersectionally than “patriarchy.” While “patriarchy” refers to the gender-division power – specifically male over female – “kyriarchy” recognizes the power division between any binaries, including race and class. For example, a wealthy white woman could hold power over a lowerclass black man in American culture; there is a kyriarchy in place that benefits the woman above the man due to factors of race and class, complicating the story beyond simply “patriarchy.” Myth – A narrative that is highly symbolic and often involving supernatural beings; unlike its common usage in vernacular English, “myth” does not make a claim upon the factuality of the story (Buxton 2020). Polemic – A dialogue or other verbal opposition to a person, group, idea, etc. Praxis – Action, emphasizing the difference between theorizing and putting theory into practice. Primeval History – Of or relating to the most ancient times, stories, etc. In a biblical context, stories within Genesis 1–11 are considered primeval (Westerman 1984: xi). Pseudepigrapha – In relation to Jewish and Old Testament literature, writings “fictionally attributed or otherwise related to characters from the time of the Hebrew Bible or Old Testament, but not included in the Jewish canon or the major Christian canons of Scripture” (Davila 2010: 1110). The use of “pseudepigrapha,” like most denotations of genre or literary category, can prove both helpful and unhelpful in that it recognizes certain qualities – such as pseudonymous authorship – but risks creating a delineation that was not present in the authors’ literary culture. For further discussion, see Yoshiko Reed (2009: 403–436). Redactor – A person who redacts – intentionally and selectively adapts – a text in the process of transmission. Second Temple Period – The period of Jewish history roughly during the existence of the second temple. The exact timeframe varies widely, sometimes incorporating as much as six centuries. For my thesis, the mid-Second Temple period will refer to the Jewish culture from approximately the 3rd –1st century BCE. Sectarian – Of or relating to a specific sect. Texts found at Qumran that show signs of being created and used within that specific community or movement – rather than more broadly among the Jews – are sectarian. Qumran – The site just off the coast of the Dead Sea that housed the community responsible for copying, writing, and preserving the Dead Sea Scrolls. Vacat – An intentional gap between phrases on a manuscript, often to signal the transition from one section to a new section. 6 Introduction The #MeToo movement was a cultural eruption as women broke the silence around their abuse. Women collectively brought to light how their voices had been dismissed, and they had been disbelieved, or intimidated into silence. This reality was no different within Christianity, as #ChurchToo trended with stories of the same silencing. Perhaps most telling of all, the hashtag #SilenceIsNotSpiritual directly acknowledged what so many women subconsciously feel: to be a good Christian woman is to be silent. Of course, the silencing of women in the church has been happening in far more ways than sexual assault. Women have been barred from leadership until the last century: “No woman became a priest in the Anglican Church in the United States until 1944, none in the Church of England until 1994. The first woman rabbi in the United States was ordained in 1972. No woman has been ordained in the Catholic Church” (Solnit 2017: 24). Vatican City – arguably the geographical center of Christianity – is the only country in the world where women cannot vote. Women make up the majority of Christians (Pew Research Center: 2021), and yet this oppression continues. While our culture at large is also still learning to value women, our Biblebased religion is decidedly behind the curve. Why does this happen? Why do both men and women so often devalue women’s voices? These questions demand that we confront the silence of the women in the Bible. For over two millennia, Genesis has dominated the Western world in its approach to gender. From the paradigm of man and woman in the creation accounts, to the roles of Adam and Eve in the Fall, to the depictions of legendary patriarchs and matriarchs, Genesis has been a 7 foundation for interpretations of gender throughout Jewish,1 Christian, Muslim, and other cultures. Even to the present day, religious groups such as the Southern Baptist Convention base their resolutions excluding women from church leadership on “distinctive God-assigned roles even as we continue to witness to Scripture’s teaching (Genesis 2:18, 21–24)…” (2018 SBC Resolution).2 And in the heat of the #MeToo movement, even non-religious entities like the New York Times noted the unmistakable relationship between the silence of women in Genesis and their continued silencing today (New York Times: “The Bible’s #MeToo Problem,” 2018).3 With Genesis as the dominant, singular voice, religious groups can maintain an oppressive position toward women under the banner of tradition and adherence to Scripture. But the discovery of the Genesis Apocryphon among the Dead Sea Scrolls destabilized the dominance of Genesis. While Genesis remains unparalleled in its prominence, the Genesis Apocryphon (hereafter GenAp) unveiled an active reception process among the earliest cultures to engage Genesis. GenAp retells the stories best known from their place in Genesis, stories dealing with the origin of sin, Noah and the flood, Abram and Sarai’s journey to Egypt, and Steve Mason and Adele Reinhartz engage in a debate over the use of the term “Jew” or “Judean” in modern writing and research as more and more scholars shift to using “Judean” as a translation of the Greek ιουδαιος. Reinhartz (2014) feels that this shift threatens to erase Jews from history, and questions why scholars seem to “broaden the referent of Judean from its primary geographical meaning when there is a perfectly good English word – Jew – ready at hand?” On the other hand, Mason (2014) believes both terms are useful and usable, and have “nothing to do with either attempted historical precision or ethical considerations.” While he emphasizes the flexibility of both words, he suggests that “Jew” and “Jewish” are best used for discussions of the people’s history and development (as well as “Israelite” for earlier times), while “Judean” is most useful in reflecting the mindset of writers in the Greco-Roman period toward an ethnic group residing in Judea. Reinhartz agrees that “Judean” is “excessively narrow” and tied to a specific time and place. I use the term “Jew” rather than “Judean” in my study here, which I feel better encapsulates the wide range of historical moments and geographical locations involved in this project. 2 See also: “…because the man was first in creation and the woman was first in the Edenic fall…” SBC 1984 “Resolution on Ordination and the Role of Women in Ministry.” https://www.sbc.net/resourcelibrary/resolutions/resolution-on-ordination-and-the-role-of-women-in-ministry/ 3 Scott opens her op-ed with the story of Dinah’s rape in Genesis 34. Later on she writes, “The muting of the #MeToos of the Bible is a direct reflection of the culture of silence at work in our congregations. An assumption is woven into our sacred texts: that the experiences of women don’t matter. If religious communities fail to tell stories that reflect the experience of the women of our past, we will inevitably fail to address the sense of entitlement, assumption of superiority and lust for punishment carried through those stories and inherited by men of the present.” 1 8 more. Despite the shared stories in Genesis and GenAp, there are striking differences between these two texts. Women who were nameless and silent in Genesis are suddenly seen with identities, names, agency, and voices – cultural traditions that were marginal or unknown to us until the discoveries at Qumran. In this thesis, I will employ the lenses of both biblical and feminist studies to compare GenAp to the biblical book of Genesis and ask questions that have never been asked in Dead Sea Scrolls research: Why did the ancient authors choose to represent the previously silenced voices of women in the texts? What can the contrast reveal to us about the development of ancient attitudes toward women? What does the inclusion of voices in GenAp tell us about the scribal, religious, and gender culture of the Second Temple period?4 How might that growing understanding affect our approach to the Bible today? The Genesis Apocryphon retells a foundational story. The identities of women in GenAp identify their invisibility in Genesis. The voices of women in GenAp speak to their silence in Genesis. The actions of women in GenAp expose their passivity in Genesis. My goal is to demonstrate that the loss of texts like GenAp – or the loss of their incorporation into our literary knowledge around the Bible – has contributed to the silencing of women through early Christianity5 and to the present day. I suggest that by reintroducing GenAp to readers of the Bible, we will regain the complexity that was welcomed in the time before “Bible” and “canon” My use of the term “Second Temple period” will refer to mid- to late- Second Temple Judaism, from approximately the 3rd –1st century BCE. 5 Early Christianity is deeply interwoven with Jewish texts and traditions. While the texts of the Christian Old Testament clearly reflect its Jewish roots, the cultural milieu in which Christianity itself began and grew is also reflective of intertestamental mid-Second Temple period, due to the Hellenistic influence on Jewish culture results in new concerns and literary styles (Scott 1995: 18–19). Murphy (1991: 34) aptly notes that any study or discussion around Christianity must be informed not only by the Hebrew Bible, but even more importantly by Second Temple texts that most closely unveil the culture in which Christianity began and developed. In light of this, my thesis examines the Genesis Apocryphon as a Jewish text that bears significance for the foundations – and thus trajectory – of Christianity. 4 9 (Mroczek 2016: 3–6). Furthermore, what difference could it have made on the reception of Genesis historically if different portrayals of Genesis’ women had been available to us? A growing awareness of women’s portrayal in literature of the Second Temple period “offers alternatives to the images of women derived strictly from the biblical texts and sheds further light on multiple interpretations of the role and status of women in antiquity” (Tervanotko 2019: 189). These alternative images contribute to telling a different story than the one, largely silent story of Genesis. And perhaps most importantly, how might the recent discovery and amplification of GenAp be itself a #MeToo moment amongst a history of dominating texts? The previously unheard voice of GenAp is an ancient #MeToo story, one that was lost for two millennia until its emergence in the last century. While the Bible’s silencing of exploited women may have laid a foundation for our cultural moment, GenAp is an opportunity to recognize voices that were always present, even if they were long forgotten in a cave in the Judaean desert. To accomplish the recovery of these voices, I will examine four women from GenAp: the women of the Watchers myth, Batenosh, Emzara, and Sarai. In each case I will compare GenAp with Genesis and other Second Temple literary traditions, note the cultural, religious, or political motivations that may have led scribes6 to develop female characters more fully, and consider the implications for our understanding of the literary representation of women in foundational texts. For the remainder of this chapter, I will introduce the text of GenAp, overview the research of 6 The Jewish scribal culture of the Second Temple period is a growing and developing area of study. Throughout this thesis, I incorporate terms including “scribe,” “writer,” “author,” “composer,” “compiler,” and more, in singular and plural form. Modern readers must recognize that Second Temple scribes were not either authors or copyists in the sense that we use today. To author a text was still to draw on sources for a mix of compilation and rewriting, particularly for texts retelling biblical narratives. To copy a text was to continue the process of interpretation, not necessarily to pass on an exact replica. For more on scribal culture and the different conception of authorship, see Endres (1987); Crawford (2008); Mroczek (2016); and Perrin (2020). 10 gender issues in the Dead Sea Scrolls, and present the methods and strategies I have used throughout my research and in writing this thesis. 1. What is the Genesis Apocryphon? 1.1 Date, Content, and Genre The Genesis Apocryphon was one of the initial scrolls discovered in Qumran Cave 1 in 1947, and it came to bear the classifying title 1Q20. Much of the scroll has deteriorated into fragments that are impossible to decipher, but it still contains 23 extant or partially-extant columns of text. The text’s composition in Aramaic immediately distinguished it from Hebrew texts found in Cave 1. While dating the composition of any ancient text is a difficult process, there is now a general consensus dating GenAp to around the mid-second century BCE (Perrin 2015: 52; Eshel 2009: 43) within a broader range from the late third to early first century BCE (Machiela 2009: 17). While that compositional date is uncertain, this specific manuscript is dated more certainly to the late-to-middle first century BCE (Fitzmyer 2004: 25–26). The content of GenAp involves pseudepigraphic first person narratives from the figures of Enoch, Lamech, Noah, and Abram. Its narratives parallel stories from Genesis 1–15, sometimes following closely to the original Hebrew text (near word-for-word translation into Aramaic), and sometimes elaborating so substantially that it cannot be considered a mere translation or edition of Genesis. Both the beginning and end of the scroll dissolve into fragments leaving us uncertain of how the text opens or closes. As 1Q20 is the only known copy of GenAp in existence, we may never know the full story it originally presented. 11 The genre and categorization of GenAp has been a difficult and debated process. Within its first few years of examination, it was labeled an “apocalypse,” a “targum,” and a “midrash” (Machiela 2009: 2). Under the influence of Geza Vermes, the term “rewritten Bible” began to dominate conversations around GenAp’s role and purpose (Vermes, 1961: 67). The precise definition of “rewritten Bible” is, however, elusive, and employs a concept of “Bible” that is an anachronistic projection on Second Temple literature existing before a canon. Accordingly, scholars such as Daniel Falk and Sidnie White Crawford transitioned to the term “rewritten scripture” (Falk 2007; White Crawford 2008). Falk counts GenAp as one of the many Second Temple texts involved in the activity of “extending Scripture,” and he aptly points out that viewing GenAp through its activity may be better than forcing it into any modern concept of category or genre (Falk 2007: 16–17).7,8 Machiela calls GenAp “scriptural interpretation,” noting that it interprets a Genesis that, while not technically “Bible,” was “venerated enough to warrant and interpretive rewriting” (Machiela 2009: 131).9 It is his term “interpretive rewriting” that I think may be most helpful in approaching GenAp, as this term shifts our focus to the interpretive action of the text. Bernstein (2013: 319) recognizes the composite nature of GenAp which draws on different sources to piece together its narrative, and thus questions whether a generic category can be assigned at all. Finally, Zahn (2012: 282) represents a move toward seeing the genre of Falk explores the ways Second Temple texts “extend” Scripture “in the context of authoritative sacred writings but not yet closed canon” (Falk 2007: 16). He suggests that “We might say that as the moon does not rob from the sun, such texts can extend the authority of Scripture without necessarily aiming to rival or replace it” (Falk 2007: 16). Falk and Machiela both recognize that GenAp falls under a broader category of “parabiblical” literature, which Bernstein (2013: 231) calls a “supercategory.” For comments on how GenAp’s composition in Aramaic excludes it from making any authoritative claim, see White Crawford (2008: 127). 8 On the problems of modern concepts of genre for Second Temple texts, see Machiela and Perrin (2014, 114). 9 Machiela writes that “The Genesis Apocryphon, then, is an exegetical work based on the book of Genesis. Standing at a crossroads in scriptural interpretation, it was meant to be read alongside the authoritative text, and not instead of it. It filled perceived gaps in information, addressed interpretive perplexities, and drew explicit connections between varied events or persons in the narrative… In short, the scroll provided its constituency the proper lens through which to read Genesis” (Machiela 2009: 134). 7 12 “Rewritten scripture” as united not by content and form as much as by “distinctive action or function.”10 She suggests “Rewritten scripture” could be a helpful label for texts that contain three characteristics: being a new work distinct from scriptural texts, interpreting scriptural passages, and continuing in the same “stream of tradition” as the work it interprets. Ultimately, she concludes that texts in this genre “provide a version of past tradition that better reflects the concerns and ideology of their community” (2012: 286). While attempts to categorize GenAp are ambiguous at best, there is no doubt that the text was written with purpose and agenda. My thesis will contribute to the ever-growing picture of what “concerns and ideology” the authors of GenAp may have meant to address with this text.11 1.2 Relationship with Other Texts GenAp is far from alone in the ever-widening web of Second Temple literature that relates – closely or distantly – to authoritative texts we now know as the Hebrew Bible. While its language of composition and themes connect GenAp to a wide range of other texts – many of Zahn’s (2012: 2754–75) discussion of the genre of “Rewritten scripture” questions whether it is appropriate to classify texts based on their connection to older texts (thus “scripture”). She notes that “the label ‘rewritten is predicated on the relationship of a given text to an earlier text. In effect, it is based on a judgment about the compositional history of a work rather than directly on formal features of the work itself.” She analogizes texts and genre to pigeons in a flock, recognizing that while a collection of pigeons may form a group, they do not necessarily belong to that group exclusively and can demonstrate flexibility in the process of categorization (2012: 276–77). In this sense, then, she allows that a generic category like “Rewritten scripture” can prove helpful as long as texts are able to be part of multiple genres and classifications at once. 11 The Star Wars saga presents a surprisingly appropriate parallel for the constellation of ancient texts in relation to one another. The original trilogy could represent the primacy and authority of texts like Genesis, though even those original movies saw slight variations over time. But outside the main movies, other books, TV series, and related films have developed to explain narrative gaps in the original trilogy in what has come to be known as the Star Wars Expanded Universe. Disney made the recent decision to classify all these additional films and books as no longer canon. In a similar vein, GenAp represents scribal engagement and interest with reinterpreting and expanding biblical literature in a time before a decisive canon was created. Kalman (2015) explored the parallels of the Star Wars and biblical canons, as well as similarities between their devotees. He notes that both canons have had impact on our language and culture, both continue to see expanded interpretations and reinterpretations, and both are “extremely compelling yet obviously incomplete, and imperfections are opportunities for expansion, perhaps for perpetuity.” 10 13 which we will encounter throughout this thesis – there are two texts in particular whose relationships with GenAp have been topics of much discussion: 1 Enoch and Jubilees. 1 Enoch is a compilation of apocalyptic and revelatory Aramaic texts around the late fourth and early third century BCE, primarily written from the perspective of Enoch (Nickelsburg and VanderKam 2004: vii). There is little doubt that 1 Enoch served as a source for the authors of GenAp, particularly in its expansion of the story of the Watchers, the character of Lamech, and the birth of Noah, all of which are minor or absent in Genesis (Machiela 2009: 12; White Crawford 2008: 110). 1 Enoch seems relatively unencumbered by the Genesis narrative, primarily using its brief biography of Enoch as a gap in which 1 Enoch can creatively expand (Peters 2008: 30). But despite many clear cases of connection between 1 Enoch and GenAp, the latter makes still further changes from the former, particularly in its focus on female characters. To use the analogy of a family: if Genesis could be seen as a mother to GenAp – providing structure and foundation for creative growth – 1 Enoch could be considered perhaps a close aunt: having significant influence on GenAp, sometimes rivaling that of the parent, but still distinct enough to allow GenAp to form its own path and purpose. If Genesis is a mother and 1 Enoch an aunt to GenAp, the Book of Jubilees might be a sister. While there is no doubt that the two texts are closely related, scholars are divided over which text is earliest, whether one serves as a source for the other, or whether both are recipients of other similar traditions (Stone 2009: 9). In a number of ways, Jubilees takes after Genesis more closely than GenAp, reflected in its composition in Hebrew and higher concern over the historical accuracy of dates and times. Jubilees contains a breadth of material not present in GenAp, though a fully extant GenAp could affect that difference. However, Jubilees and GenAp still bear a striking resemblance to each other; for the purposes of this thesis, the most important 14 resemblance is their shared emphasis on women’s names and identities, particularly as a tool for promoting endogamy (Bautch 2009: 338–52; Loader 2009: 292). I will explore GenAp’s relationships with both 1 Enoch and Jubilees in greater detail throughout the thesis, particularly in chapters 1 and 3, respectively. Finally, GenAp is surrounded by a plethora of cousins and second cousins and third cousins on the Aramaic side of the family. The Aramaic texts at Qumran bear a number of significant similarities, such as their narrative settings in pre-Siniatic history or the Diaspora (Dimant 2010: 35–43), giving this corpus a distinct profile (Collins 2010: 548). Texts such as Tobit, the Aramaic Levi Document, and the Visions of Amram all involve similar linguistic, cultural, and thematic elements, including an emphasis on women and endogamous marriage (Perrin 2020: 4). Indeed, the Aramaic texts at Qumran bears enough distinctives from its Hebrew relatives to warrant the study of these texts as a corpus with common scribal practices and purposes (Perrin 2020: 4). These texts will weave in and out of the thesis, making their biggest appearance in chapter 3. 1.3 Editions of GenAp As a previously unknown text, GenAp has only recently been given attention, including a number of editions attempting to decipher and interpret the extant columns. Significant editions of the work have included the first by Avigad and Yadin (1956), three by Fitzmyer (1966, 1971, 2004), three by Beyer (1984, 1994, 2004), one by Morgenstern, Qimron, and Sivan (1995), one by Abegg and Wise (2005), and two by Machiela (2009; 2018 with VanderKam). Takamitsu Muraoka states that Machiela’s edition’s readings show “considerable progress on those of his predecessors” (Muraoka, 2011: 307), and I will use his text and translation unless otherwise noted. 15 2. Research Overview The present research touches upon a number of growing areas of study, including gender studies among the Dead Sea Scrolls, feminist studies in biblical and Second Temple literature, rewritten scripture examined as reception history, and analysis of themes in Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls as a corpus. In this section I will provide a broad overview of the relevant research done in these areas as it relates to my own endeavors here. 2.1 Gender and Feminist Studies Terminology is foundational to any conversation. “Feminist” biblical studies followed largely in the footsteps of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, a leader of the women’s rights movement in the nineteenth century and author of The Women’s Bible. Stanton pointed to the connection between the silencing of women in the Bible and the silencing and inferiorizing of women in her own time. “Women’s” and “feminist” studies grew over the next century, fighting for recognition as a viable and valuable approach to academic disciplines. Elizabeth Schüssler Fiorenza has significantly advanced the field of feminist biblical scholarship, theology, and hermeneutics; she coined the term “kyriarchy” as a way of addressing the intersectional elements of privilege that result in oppression (Schüssler Fiorenza 2001: 211). The term “gender” as an academic category rose in prominence in the late twentieth century as a more neutral term than “women’s” or “feminist” studies (Schüssler Fiorenza 1999: 33–34), and one that represented the constructed nature of “social relation of the sexes” (KellyGadol 1976: 809–23). “Gender” as a category of historical analysis came also with the recognition of intersecting social factors of race and class (Rose 2010: 11; Scott 1986: 1054). 16 Joan Scott formalized “gender” as a theoretical category for studying history, defining “gender” as “the entirely social creation of ideas about appropriate roles for women and men” (Scott 1986: 1056). In doing so, she focused on interpreting historical and cultural gender constructions as power constructions, rather than simply recovering female figures in history. 2.2 Gender Studies and the Dead Sea Scrolls Within Dead Sea Scrolls research, scholars have approached the topic of gender in a number of ways. The initial approach focused primarily on direct references to women in the sectarian texts and archaeological evidence for women at Qumran. The Community Rule was the first scroll discovered that seemed to describe the community at Qumran, and it made no mention of women (Schiffman 1994: 133). This lack of reference to women was seen as a description of a celibate, monk-like community, which was quickly connected with ancient historians’ descriptions of the Essenes (Pliny, Natural History, 5.17; Josephus, The Jewish War, 2.160). Then, as more sectarian documents involving women were discovered, the evidence for Qumran’s celibacy began to wane (Wassen 2005: 6). Furthermore, women’s bones and a few other female objects found at Qumran complicated the women-less picture of the Essenes (Magness 2002: 173–78). Slowly, Dead Sea Scrolls research on women began to shift from the question of their presence or absence at Qumran or their mentions in texts to asking more feminist-oriented hermeneutical questions of all texts. Maxine Grossman’s “Reading for Gender in the Damascus Document” in 2004 was one of the first steps toward a more robust analytical process around gender in the scrolls (Schuller 2009: 50). Hanna Tervanotko notes that 2013 seemed to see a shift in the Society of Biblical Literature’s study of women in pseudepigrapha with a “growing interest in looking into language that makes use of female images” rather than simply focusing 17 on “women as literary figures” (Tervanotko 2019: 184–85).12 It was not until 2017 that the theme of the SBL annual meeting was focused on the topic of gender (Tervanotko 2019: 185). 2.3 The Expansion of Women in Second Temple Literature Gendered messaging is present everywhere, including texts that make no mention of women. However, Second Temple literature contains a remarkable amount of expansion of female characters, providing gender and feminist scholars with ample material for current research. Betsy Halpern-Amaru explored the way Jubilees expanded female characters as part of its rewriting Israel’s patriarchs in her article “The First Woman, Wives, and Mothers in Jubilees” (1994) and book The Empowerment of Women in the Book of Jubilees (1999). Also focusing on Jubilees, Kelley Coblentz Bautch promoted the study of depictions of women as a helpful method for finding key themes in both Enochic literature and Jubilees (Bautch 2009: 352). Sidnie White Crawford has provided valuable studies on the figures of Miriam, Esther, Judith, and other female imagery such as “Lady Wisdom” both inside and outside the context of Qumran. Hanna Tervanotko also promoted the understudied figure of Miriam in her book Denying Her Voice: The Figure of Miriam in Ancient Jewish Literature (2016). These scholars and others have continued to advance the methods and purposes for studying the expansion of female characters occurring in Second Temple texts (Ego 2015; Humphreys 1998; Tervanotko and Uusimaki 2018). Much of the study of expanded women in Second Temple literature ties into the theme of endogamous marriage. This topic has received varied attention, though rarely as the focus of a 12 This timing aligns with the fourth wave of feminism which, though nebulously defined, has been associated with the shifting focus on “sexual harassment, body shaming, and rape culture, among other issues” (Britannica, https://www.britannica.com/topic/feminism/The-fourth-wave-of-feminism). 18 study and even more rarely through an intentionally feminist lens. David Suter (1979: 122) connected the concern over proper marriage in Enochic literature with the requirement of endogamous marriage for priests in Second Temple Judaism. In his edition of GenAp, Joseph A. Fitzmyer (2004: 147) emphasized the theme of endogamy in GenAp. William Loader contributed three volumes addressing sexuality in various literatures, and specifically noted GenAp’s use of Noah as “a model father whose action in arranging appropriate marriages, sets an example over against those who engage in intermarriage with Gentiles” (Loader 2009: 292). In their article comparing the themes of Tobit and GenAp, Daniel A. Machiela and Andrew B. Perrin examine how both texts emphasize women and the importance of endogamy (2014: 121– 26). 2.4 Study of Women in the Genesis Apocryphon Finally, there are a small number of resources examining specifically the women of GenAp. James C. VanderKam noted the intentionality of GenAp to give information about wives (1994: 457–61). Ida Frölich’s article “Medicine and Magic” (1998) surveyed the intertwining of women with themes of medicine and magic in GenAp. Batenosh has received a few articles to her name that examine the Hellenistic influence on the science of orgasm (Frölich 1998; Horst, 2014: 6–20). The extended scenes involving Sarai in GenAp drew the attention of Anthony Lipscomb (2019: 319–47). However, as of yet there is no comprehensive study on the women of GenAp as a whole, and certainly not one that prioritizes the presence and voices of those women as the primary objective for research. 2.5 Speaking into the Silence 19 All the above research leaves much to be studied on the specific way GenAp expands female characters, particularly as a means of reception and interpretation of Genesis. My research aims to fill the need for: - A study of all the women in GenAp side-by-side; - A centering of female characters as focal points in pseudepigraphic studies; - Further study of women’s unique role in the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls; and - Research connecting GenAp’s amplification of women with the silence of Genesis. This thesis – while more comprehensive than any study thus far – is still not an exhaustive exploration of the themes of women within GenAp. Rather, it is meant to expose the voices of women that have yet to be heard and the questions that have yet to be asked of these scrolls. 3. Feminist Strategies To achieve the goals stated above, I will incorporate principles of feminist biblical hermeneutics, though shifted to address non-biblical texts. While “gender” studies has become the academically dominant category, it is not without its drawbacks. Most significantly for my work here, “gender” studies – in its attempt at neutrality – lacks the direct, women-oriented, feminist agenda that I believe is still necessary in this area of research. In her review of research on gender in the pseudepigrapha, Hanna Tervanotko writes: Deciding which terminology to use when addressing gender is a matter of some consequence. Analyzing the pseudepigrapha texts through the lens of gender instead of feminism has both benefits and disadvantages in relation to feminism. There is no doubt that addressing different types of gendered matters from intersectional perspectives will advance our understanding of the multifaceted 20 nature of gender in antiquity. Meanwhile, the risk in this approach is that seemingly male aspects of study overtake the female perspectives and experiences. Consequently, the theory that initially was established to emphasize women and their gendered experience vis-à-vis men may risk losing its purpose (Tervanotko 2019: 191). In light of the benefits that both feminist and gender studies offer – as overlapping but different approaches to research – I incorporate both into my thesis. As a feminist scholar, I do not make any claim of objectivity. My goal is to reclaim and amplify women’s voices as a step toward balancing the scale in which women have been disadvantaged for all of history. Toward this end, I have structured my chapters in ways that center the women in the story as much as possible; rather, than only considering them in light of their relationship to the male characters. As much as possible, I emphasize that active roles of the women in the text. And most importantly, my thesis – especially in the Conclusion – intends to contribute to feminist praxis by demonstrating how this research can and should affect readers of the Bible today. Feminist praxis does not only involve the content, but also the method. Mary E. Hunt – feminist theologian and co-founder of the Women’s Alliance for Theology, Ethics, and Ritual – writes that true feminist praxis in writing and publication will be seen through “the impact of feminist work on social structures. If it is accessible it can have a greater impact. Obfuscation is a deep concession to patriarchy because it privileges, wrongly I believe, those whose impact is more oblique” (Hunt 2000: 105, emphasis mine). The manner in which I have structured and written this thesis reflects the desire to push back against the kyriarchal separation of power that has historically silenced women and other minorities. I have made my thesis more accessible by: - Including a glossary of uncommon terms; - Avoiding the use of foreign languages without translation; and 21 - Generally attempting to write in a style that welcomes readers from broad levels of education and language backgrounds. My hope is that this thesis can contribute to the shifting of academia from a center of power inaccessible to the underprivileged, to a widening center of voices and community of mutual speakers and listeners. This thesis will demonstrate – through content and through method – that women’s voices matter, they have always mattered, and there is much we can do to recover and finally hear them. 22 Chapter 1: Seducers, Sirens, or Victims? Women in GenAp’s Watchers Tradition The words ‫“( רז‬mystery”) ‫“( נקבת‬women)” and ‫“( חרש‬magic”) are scattered across the first fragments of the Genesis Apocryphon – are the closest we have to this scroll’s “Once upon a time.” This intriguing opening of GenAp suggests the presence of the story of the Watchers, a myth that is barely incorporated into Genesis but grows in popularity in Second Temple literature. Considering the themes of purity, sexuality, marriage, and lineage, the Watchers myth seems right at home at the beginning of this scroll, or at least the extant parts of it. Little can be confirmed about the story’s retelling in GenAp due to the decay and deterioration of these opening columns. But examining Watchers traditions in other texts – particularly 1 Enoch (Book of Watchers), Book of Giants, and Jubilees (Bernstein 2013: 173) – can illuminate possible purposes for the story’s inclusion and expansion in GenAp. In this chapter, I will find that GenAp’s Watchers myth was likely meant to address concern over exogamous marriage. I will examine the surrounding literature to provide context to the Watchers myth and explore the ways those texts address endogamy, and the motives and fate of the women. I will conclude that this story likely included a portrayal of the women that sets the stage for the female characters to come later in the scroll. Due to the fragmentary nature of this section of GenAp, this chapter will be the most speculative of the thesis. The conclusions from this chapter will be a weighing of possibilities and their significance, more than specific, defined interpretations. 1. Gendered Elements of the Watchers Myth in Various Texts 23 The Watchers myth is a breeding ground for gender observations and interpretations in the Second Temple period. In the myth, angelic beings descend to earth in order to mate with human women, resulting in unusual offspring who wreak havoc on the earth. Ancient retellings elaborate and adapt the story, but maintain a focus on the breaching of natural boundaries between heavenly and earthly beings through sexual means. Even the briefest known version of the story – found in Genesis 6:1–4 – is brimming with questions around sexuality that ancient authors creatively answer in their retellings. In this section, I will examine a number of the most prominent versions of the Watchers myth in order to gain context for the ways the myth could have been used in GenAp and demonstrate why it fits as the opening scene of the scroll. 1.1 Genesis 6:1–4 The brief version of the Watchers myth in Genesis 6:1–4 is as follows: When human beings began to increase in number on the earth and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of humans were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. Then the LORD said, “My Spirit will not contend with humans forever, for they are mortal; their days will be a hundred and twenty years.” The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of humans and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown. (Genesis 6:1–4, NIV) This short account was undoubtedly a source for the GenAp version, though not the only one. Hendel proposes the Genesis account is a truncated version of the myth, and that the redactors of the J source use it as a build up to the Flood narrative rather than as its own story. He suggests this apparent repression led to a high interest among later authors and interpreters in the Hellenistic era (Hendel 2004: 13–16). What may be most notable is the seeming neutrality of the Genesis account: the actions of the ‫“( בני האלהים‬sons of God”) and the ‫“( הנפלים‬Nephilim”) are not directly condemned, an omission that future interpreters took to task. But the brevity and 24 ambiguity of the Genesis version may even be reason to believe the story had a greater background than appears in these four verses. For example, the use of the terms ‫“( בני האלהים‬sons of God”)13 and ‫“( הנפלים‬Nephilim”) without any explanation or definition leads Hendel to conclude that “these were apparently well-known figures in ancient Israelite culture, such that no explicit identification is needed in the brief narrative” (Hendel 2004: 17). Westerman (1984: 367) asserts that the J source author used ‫“( בני האלהים‬sons of God”) to portray “persons who are so powerful that, when they desire a woman because of her beauty, they are not confined by the limits that restrain ordinary mortals.”14 The terseness of Genesis’ Watchers myth does not eliminate the foundational gendered messaging. Basic gender dynamics come into play simply because the story revolves around male and female beings. Annette Yoshiko Reed justifiably argues that gender commentary was not the intended message of the Watchers myth (Yoshiko Reed 2014: 117). However, gender analysis can be done anywhere that gendered beings exist, especially in instances of power. Gender analysis may even be most effective when “gender” is not the authorial focus due to the presence of unstated assumptions. Genesis’ Watchers myth, though short, springboards a number of gendered questions and observations. Which beings are heavenly and angelic? The male “sons of God.” Which beings are earthly and noted only for their physical appearance? The female humans. The “sons of God” hold the agency and power, while the women are portrayed without voice or will. Did the women “Sons of God” was variously employed in literature spanning the Hebrew Bible, Second Temple literature, and New Testament. It “can denote both individuals and groups and refer to both earthly and transcendent figures” (Xeravits 2010: 1249). In Gen 6:2, it refers to heavenly beings (idem., 1248). The Septuagint translates ‫בני האלהים‬ (“sons of God”) as οἱ υἱοὶ τοῦ θεοῦ (“sons of God”) in Genesis 6, though the same Hebrew phrase in Job 1:6, 2;1, and 38:7 is translated οἱ ἄγγελοι (“the angels”). 14 On the thematic parallel of taking a woman upon seeing her beauty, see chapter 4 section 1.3. 13 25 have any role in the fall of the Watchers? What became of the women? The development of the story beyond Genesis begins to enter into these questions. 1.2 1 Enoch 1–36 – The Book of Watchers The most extensive telling of the Watchers myth known to us today is 1 Enoch’s Book of Watchers (BW). As opposed to the four verses of Genesis, BW expands the story into a full 36 chapters that detail the fall of the angels, their identities, and their involvement with humanity. The conversation around the origin of sin and evil was prevalent and complex in ancient Jewish literature; thus, it is noteworthy that BW adds direct culpability and moral consequence to the sexual relationships between the Watchers and the women; impending judgment is a central theme of 1 Enoch (Nickelsburg 1999: 96). God is portrayed as condemning the angels’ actions “not because taking wives is sinful, but rather because marriage, sex, and children are the domain of humankind (1 Enoch 15:4–7); their sin, as here conceived, lies in the transgression of divinely established distinctions” (Yoshiko Reed 2014: 117). As mentioned above, we can do some gender analysis by noticing assumptions made about gender. Just a small sampling of text gives us much to consider: “[The angels] and all others with them took for themselves wives from among such as they chose. And they began to go in to them, and to defile themselves through them…” (1 Enoch 7:1)15 Here, the assumptions include: the holy beings are all male; sex with women defiles holy beings; and sex can intermingle two distinct entities, here earthly and heavenly. The improper mixing of holy and defiling beings serves as a template for the authors’ attitudes toward exogamy, as shall be explored further in section 2.1.2. The worthwhile Translations of the text of 1 Enoch comes from Nickelsburg and VanderKam’s 2004 translation. They note that parts of 1 Enoch were composed in Aramaic and transmitted into Greek and then from Greek into Ethiopic. While the entirety is preserved only in Ethiopic, eleven Qumran manuscripts contain parts of that text (2004: 13). 15 26 observation here is that while the gender dynamics within the Watchers myth were not the scribes’ focus, these dynamics were being used to emphasize other significant themes. While the relationship between 1 Enoch and GenAp is uncertain, Machiela proposes 1 Enoch was likely a source for GenAp (Machiela 2009: 12). Todd R. Hanneken purports BW’s “influence greatly surpassed its authority” (Hanneken 2018: 26). The proposal of 1 Enoch as a source for GenAp is corroborated by 1 Enoch’s heavy expansion of Enoch, Lamech, and Noah, an expansion also present in GenAp. Additionally, Bautch and Larson argue for BW’s original composition in Aramaic, which creates even more possible ties with GenAp (Larson 1995: 21– 27; Bautch 2006: 767). Even if the two texts were not related as sources for one another, their composition in Aramaic places them in a similar cultural milieu, likely facing similar influences and pressures. 1.3 The Book of Giants The Book of Giants (BG) is a Second Temple text that appears to stem from a related tradition as BW ; the fragmentary nature of all remaining copies leaves us uncertain of its exact content and relationship to 1 Enoch (Stuckenbruck 2014: 17–18). As its title suggests, the text concerns the story of the giants more than that of the Watchers; as such, there is little content pertaining to the women with whom the Watchers mated. One of the earliest extant lines of BG is ‫…“( אטמיו‬they defiled…”) (4Q531 1 1) followed by references to bearing offspring (‫אולדו‬ [“they begot”]) (4Q531 1 2–3). This reference to defilement likely reflects the Watchers defilement with the women in BW, as noted above.16 The root ‫“( טמא‬to defile, be unclean”) occurs extensively throughout the Dead Sea Scrolls, such as in reference to defiling the sanctuary in CD 5:6, actions of the Wicked Priest in 1QpHab 12 8, or toward menstrual regulations in 4Q265 7 15. These uses contribute to the alignment of GenAp’s initial Watchers myth with themes of priestly purity, discussed in section 2.1.2. 16 27 While there is little extant content pertaining to the perception of women in BG, it is an important text to plot on the map of the Watchers myth in Second Temple literature. Its creative retelling emphasizing the giants demonstrates the story of the Watchers and giants received significant attention and imaginative expansion. Furthermore, the giants – who are ultimately punished for their crimes – serve to highlight the problem of inappropriate mixing and the devastating consequences. 1.4 Jubilees The book of Jubilees may give us an even better idea of how GenAp may have employed the Watchers myth due to a potential intertextual relationship. Scholars generally fall into one of three positions regarding the relationship of Jubilees and GenAp: first, Jubilees’ dependence on GenAp (Wacholder 1964: 52; Vermes 1983: 124; Werman 1999: 72; Eshel 2007: 130–31); second, the reverse (Fitzmyer 1960: 277–91; Crawford 2008: 126–7; Kugel 2011: 257–94); and third, mutual dependence on a shared source (Machiela 2012: 716–7), possibly a lost Book of Noah (García Martínez 1992: 1–44). Hanneken (2018: 27) sees Jubilees as incorporating BW, interpreting the Enochic text much as it does with Genesis. It appears, then, that Jubilees, BW, and GenAp can be considered closely related, even if the exact nature of their dependence is uncertain. Jubilees contains a number of unique elements and emphases within its retelling of the Watchers myth. Jubilees employs the Genesis content with Enochic influence from BW (Stuckenbruck 2014: 25), but adds information meant to clarify the roles of the myth’s characters. Regarding God’s response to the events, Jubilees writes: “Against his angels whom he had sent to the earth he was angry enough to uproot them from all their (positions of) 28 authority.” (Jubilees 5:6)17 Here, Jubilees portrays the angels as having originally descended to earth not out of lust but in obedience to a commission from God gone awry. The implication here – in contrast to Genesis and BW – is that “the angels’ disobedience takes place on earth” (Stuckebnruck 2014: 26), not a premeditated rebellion beginning in heaven. For the authors of Jubilees, this maintains the healthy separation of heaven and its holy space from earth. Jubilees also differs from BW in its increased emphasis upon humanity’s punishment rather than BW’s emphasis on the angels and giants’ punishment (Stuckenbruck 2014: 27). The similarities between Jubilees and GenAp are numerous, but most pertinent to the present study is their expansion of female characters throughout. Jubilees – like GenAp and unlike Genesis – provides genealogies that name wives in order to demonstrate that they all come from within the family or clan. This shared emphasis on endogamy in both Jubilees and GenAp lends credence to the idea that Jubilees’ use of the Watchers myth may be similar to the way GenAp might have used the angelic tale. In other words, the thematic parallels of the two texts give us a foundation for loose, thematic reconstruction of GenAp’s Watcher’s myth. The specifics of these parallels will be explored further below; for now, the relevant point is that, as in BW, Jubilees also reinterprets the Watcher’s myth for its own purposes, and GenAp likely did the same. 1.5 Genesis Apocryphon In light of Genesis, 1 Enoch, and Jubilees, what can we determine about the telling of the Watcher’s myth in GenAp? The fragments of text in the first barely-extant column give us a few All translations of Jubilees are from James C. VanderKam’s two-volume commentary, 2018. The text of Jubilees, like 1 Enoch, is extant in complete form only in Ethiopic. However, fragment of Jubilees discovered in the Dead Sea Scrolls confirmed the text’s original composition in Hebrew, which was then translated into Greek before being further translated into Latin and Ethiopic (VanderKam 2018: 1–2). 17 29 clues that can provide at least a hypothetical direction to explore regarding the women of the story. The text of 1Q20 0:17 has received a number of different transcriptions, reconstructions, and translations. Machiela reads ‫ מן מרה עלמא‬...‫[ין מתחננין ו‬, (“]… seeking favor and… from the Lord of Eternity”) (Machiela 2009: 32). Abegg reads this line more simply ‫ין‬...‫[ ין מתחנגין ו‬, (“longing for”) (Abegg and Wise 2005: 3). But most intriguing is Fitzmyer’s earlier reading of the line as ‫ למא‬... ‫ן‬...‫[אן מתחתנין ו‬, (“] …that they would not ally themselves by marriage”) (Fitzmyer 2004, 64–65). This reading was taken by Sidnie White Crawford, who sees the line as a connection to 1 Enoch’s BW. She notes that if this parchment sheet is the beginning of the scrolls, “then these columns serve as an introduction; for the author/redactor, the important events of human history begin with the descent of the Watchers” (Crawford 2008: 108). If GenAp does open with the Watchers myth, this could be a stronger tie to 1 Enoch as a source that also opens with the story of the Watchers. Jubilees and Genesis both open with the creation account; GenAp’s potential divergence from that tradition suggests a heavier influence of 1 Enoch, a stronger creative retelling on the part of the author/redactor, or both. There is also the possibility that some strand of BG could be retold in these opening columns, though there is little upon which to base that claim. If a giants tradition were present, it would be told within the context of the Watchers myth, and so I will maintain a focus on that story. The Watchers myth as the opening of GenAp provides an important potential lens through which to read the rest of the scroll. The Watchers myth contains a strong polemic against mixing and intermarriage – as will be discussed further in section 2 – that is missing from the creation account of Genesis and Jubilees. Thus, using the Watchers myth to set the stage in 30 GenAp orients the reader with a mindset of heaven/earth dichotomization as the basis for upcoming prohibitions of exogamy. Though still fragmentary, 1Q20 1:1 includes the phrase, ‫“ ועם נקבתא‬and with the women,” attested in Fitzmyer (2004: 66), Abegg and Wise (2005: 3 – “and with the female”), and Machiela (2009: 32). While this small phrase does not provide us with much information about the women’s role in the text, it does lay a foundation for further conversation by directly acknowledging the women are present. If the phrase from Column 0 is taken to refer to the women as well, then these two fragments together already exceed the extant references to the Watchers themselves (1Q20 0:11) in the opening columns of GenAp. Of course, no final tally can be drawn from such fragmentary materials. However, these phrases serve as a basis within GenAp for concluding the women were certainly mentioned and likely expanded within the Watchers myth. In the following sections of this chapter I will explore possible ways this expansion could occur and consider themes from the rest of GenAp that might play into the portrayal of women in these first few columns. 2. Endogamous Emphasis The story of the Watchers and the women is profoundly tied to the theme of proper endogamous marriage. In this section, I will provide a broad overview of how the story in these opening columns relates to marriage concerns within the various retellings of the Watchers myth, within GenAp, and across the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple writings. The concern over endogamy within this opening tale of GenAp will ground the texts’ emphasis upon women’s identities throughout. 31 2.1 Endogamy in the Watchers Myth The Watchers myth in its various retellings became a locus of interpretation around the high value of endogamy in conjunction with the lenses of priestly purity and inappropriate sharing of divine knowledge. The basis for the parallel is not hard to identify: just as the Watchers’ marriages with the women were unnatural due to the differences in their nature, so mixed marriages with non-Israelites were also deemed increasingly unnatural in the post-exilic, increasingly Hellenistic context of the Second Temple period (Angel 2014: 316). In all retellings, the marriages between the Watchers and the women had disastrous consequences as a result of transgressed boundaries, as seen below. 2.1.1 Transmission of Knowledge from Watchers to Women One result of the mixed marriages – according to Jubilees and BW – was the transmission of knowledge from the Watchers to human beings via their wives. Jubilees specifies the type of knowledge the Watchers transmit as “omens of the sun and moon and stars in all the signs of heaven” (8:3). The Book of Watchers details extensively the knowledge and attributes each category to a specific Watcher, including: making weapons (8:1), fashioning jewelry (8:1), producing make-up and ornamentations (8:1), casting spells (8:3), and interpreting signs in the sky (8:3). The Book of Watchers’ inclusion of make-up and jewelry as harmful knowledge from the Watchers provides insight into the authors’ attitudes toward female ornamentation. Nickelsburg (2001: 171) and Yoshiko Reed (2004: 51) recognize this anti-ornamentation element of 1 Enoch as indicative of the stream of tradition that blames sin and suffering on forbidden knowledge rather than the evil actions and violence of the Watchers. The categorization of make-up and 32 jewelry as evil, unnatural knowledge contributes to the connection between women and sexual temptation. Rather than seeing female adornment as morally neutral or even good, it contributes to their sexual attractiveness in a story where that attractiveness was the cause of the Watchers’ fall (Loader 2007: 17–19). The idea that women are complicit in their own exploitation has by no means disappeared over time. Blaming inappropriate male actions on female attractiveness is just as common today; rape stories can hardly be reported without someone posing the question, “Was she asking for it?” (Goff 2011). This line of questioning was in the minds of the ancient authors as well, and the question of the women’s seduction will be addressed further in section 3. The occurrences of the words ‫“ רז‬mystery” (1Q20 1:3), ‫“ רז רשעא‬mystery of wickedness” (1Q20 1:2), and ‫“ סמין כשפין וחר[שין‬medicines, acts of sorcery, and divi[nations” (1Q20 1:9) make an almost certain case that GenAp followed in the BW tradition of knowledge transmission. If Jubilees, BW, and GenAp are seen as retellings and expansions of Genesis, this consistent incorporation of knowledge transmission – unattested in Genesis 6 – could be meant to explain Genesis’ lack of explicit connection between the descent of the Watchers and God’s watery destruction of the world. But do the ancient authors have a particular purpose for specifying that the Watchers transmit this knowledge to their wives? Yoshiko Reed finds a specific connection between the transmission of divine knowledge and female recipients. She notes that in the ancient world, literature tends to portray women as increasingly associated with concepts of magic and sorcery – a “charged intersection of sex and knowledge” (Yoshiko Reed 2014: 112). This intersection occurs prominently in Greek traditions (Yoshiko Reed 2014: 113), but may have taken hold quite naturally in Semitic thought as the Hebrew term ‫ ידע‬means ‘know’ in both a sexual and practical sense. Drawnel also connects the sexual defilement of the Watchers and the transmission of forbidden knowledge, but he specifies 33 that “The tragic consequences of the transmission of knowledge are therefore not to be blamed on its intrinsic evil qualities, but on its transmitters who defiled themselves by the fornication with women” (Drawnel 2012: 134). He shares Nickelsburg’s argument that the motif of teaching knowledge is secondary to the original story (Drawnel 2012: 127), a claim that fits with the absence of this topic in Genesis. Ultimately, then, it appears that Jubilees, BW, and GenAp all develop the Watchers myth to include greater involvement of the women. While the subsequent populating and developing of the earth in the early chapters of Genesis is done by the males – with women mentioned only as “links in the genealogies that connect male culture-creators to one another” (Yoshiko Reed 2014: 118) – these further traditions portray women as recipients of the knowledge and are thus active participants in building primeval civilization. For the writers, the women’s activity clearly had negative implications and contributed to the judgment of God in the flood, reaffirming the original proposition that unnatural and mixed marriages lead to a devastating cultural situation. 2.1.2 Priestly Purity in Watchers Myth The Watchers myth did not only speak to the theme of endogamous marriages generally, but particularly to the context of marriage for the priestly line. Suter connects this myth with the endogamous marriage apparently required of priests in Second Temple Judaism (Suter 1979: 122). He notes Philo’s account of marriage laws that promote the idea that there were very strict priestly marriage rules in the Second Temple period (Spec. Laws 1:110–11). Similar processes and consequences existed for the Watchers and for priests who married outside of their prescribed bounds: “…as a result of their marriages the angels are excluded from heaven (1 En. 14:5, cf. 13:5), while, according to Josephus’ Ag. Ap. 1:36 (cf. Ant. 9:308), the priest with an inappropriate marriage would have been excluded from service at the altar” (Suter 1979: 123–4). 34 He notes that the Damascus Document discusses ‫“( זנות‬whoredom, fornication”), and “the first example (11:16) leads into the catalog of sinners headed by the Watchers, suggesting that their marriages should be seen as examples of zenut” (Suter 1979: 125). Concern over ‫זנות‬ (“whoredom”) – including improper sexual activity, including improper marriage – was a growing theme in other Aramaic literature as well, including the Aramaic Levi Document (4Q213a 1 13) (Loader 2007: 95–103).18 The children born to the Watchers and the women also play into the priestly parallel. Suter explains that the children born to a priest through an inappropriate (or ‫“[ זנות‬fornication”]) marriage would have been excluded from the priesthood (Suter 1979: 122). Similarly, the descendants of the Watchers in both Jubilees and BW are no longer “Holy Ones” as their fathers were; they are giants who become a source of evil, corruption, and violence in BW (10:11–15) and Jubilees (7:22). The parallel between the giants and the improper offspring of priests further solidifies the connection between the Watchers myth and the theme of priestly purity. 2.2 Endogamy in Genesis Apocryphon We have seen that endogamy was a theme for both Jubilees and BW’s retellings of the Watchers myth. While this is sufficient evidence to suggest that GenAp likely followed the trend, what can we gather about how GenAp may have used the Watchers myth in light of the extant content of GenAp itself? Clearly the Watchers myth was up for reinterpretation and reemployment in Second Temple literature. What clues does the rest of GenAp provide to help us The Aramaic Levi Document – whose relationship with GenAp will be discussed in chapter 3 section 2.2.1 – demonstrates a high level of concern with avoiding ‫“( זנות‬whoredom”). The text builds up Levi’s priestly character (Himmelfarb 1999: 3), and part of the means of accomplishing this is Isaac’s command to Levi to “beware, my son, of every fornication and impurity and of every harlotry (‫( ”)זנות‬translation from Drawnel 2004: 121). 18 35 understand how it may have retold the Watchers myth in its fragmentary opening? What might those clues point to regarding GenAp’s portrayal of women? GenAp demonstrates its concern with proper endogamous unions repeatedly throughout the narrative and using various methods. First, GenAp provides the lineage details of the female characters in the narrative, which is a tactic of both GenAp and Jubilees that departs from Genesis. Noah’s wife, Emzara, gains a name and specified father in 1Q20 6:7. In the next line, Noah states explicitly that “I took wives for my sons from among the daughters of my brothers, and my daughters I gave to the sons of my brothers, according to the custom of the eternal statute [that] the [Lor]rd of Eternity [gave…] to humanity” (1Q20 6:8–9). As seen here – and discussed further in chapter 3 – GenAp presents endogamy not only through the example set by the marriages in the story, but through expressing it as a divine mandate (cf. Ezra 10:3; Tobit 6:13). Later in GenAp, the story of Abram and Sarai in Egypt found in 1Q20 19–21 presents Abram as highly concerned over Sarai’s sexual purity when she is taken by Pharaoh. His prayer demonstrates that his worries and fears are not primarily for Sarai’s personal safety out of affection, but are foremost that Pharaoh will defile his wife so as to make her “unclean for me” (1Q20 20:15). Sarai’s lineage – if it was ever present – is no longer extant and thus we cannot know if her marriage to Abram was portrayed as endogamous; however, the dire concern over maintaining her purity as a wife contribute to the theme of proper marriage within GenAp. Endogamy and proper marriage are dominant themes throughout GenAp, and it is reasonable to conclude that the Watchers myth would have been part of that emphasis. 2.3 Endogamy in the Aramaic Corpus at Qumran Finally, endogamy is a prominent theme across the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls. The subject will be explained more comprehensively in chapter 3 section 2.3, but an overview is 36 helpful for understanding the context around the Watchers’ myth as part of Qumran’s Aramaic literature. The Aramaic corpus at Qumran contains a variety of genres, and an emphasis on endogamous marriage pervades a number of these texts. The Aramaic Levi Document, the Words of Qahat, and the Visions of Amram are three interrelated pseudepigraphic narratives in which patriarchs of the priestly line consistently marry closely related women and arrange such marriages for their children (ALD 6:4, 11:1; 4Q542 1 i 8–9; 4Q543 1 a–c 5–6; 4Q544 1 8–9). The fragment 4Q549 contains a genealogy in which Miriam and potentially other women are named figures (4Q549 2 8–9). The Aramaic Enochic literature does not emphasize endogamy as directly, but Enoch’s wife is named (1 Enoch 85:3) and there is considerable attention given to the problems of improper marriages. Finally, the book of Tobit contains perhaps the strongest commandments for endogamous marriage, claiming that the practice is “in accordance with the book of Moses” (4Q197 4 ii 6). The Watchers myth’s concern with marriage themes fits quite naturally within the context of GenAp and the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls as a collection. In the Watchers myth, the designation of “angels” and “human women” is sufficient identification to determine an illqualified marriage; as we will see in chapter 4, the identity designations become more specific once all the characters involved are human. But what else does the inclusion of the Watchers myth tell us about the attitudes and purposes of the authors regarding female characters in this significant story? 3. Seducers or Victims? 37 The retellings of the Watchers myth vary in their interpretation of the women’s actual role in the story. Were the women actively seducing the angels? Were they unaware victims of the angels’ lust? Was their experience – whether seducers or victims – relevant to the storytellers? This section will examine the interpretations of the women’s attitudes in a number of retellings and propose how GenAp may have told the story. Genesis 6 is silent regarding the thoughts, feelings, or actions of the women. The early lack of specification on this front likely speaks to the reality that gender roles and portrayals were not the main purpose of the story; demonstrating the evils of exogamous intermarriage was a greater focus. The “motive” of the women is thus not the most relevant factor to the authors or redactors.19 However, as with other silences in Genesis, retellings of the story expand these details as well. 3.1 Women’s Motives in the Book of Watchers 1 Enoch’s account of the Watchers myth in BW seems to portray the women as victims of the Watchers’ actions. This is never explicitly stated – contributing to the idea that the women’s intentions/actions were not central for the authors (Yoshiko Reed 2014: 117) – but can be gathered from a few readings in the text. 1 Enoch 10 is devoted entirely to the directions of the “Most High” to Sariel, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael about how to handle the situation on earth, involving detailed instructions on the punishment of both the Watchers and the giants that were born to them. However, through this entire detailed chapter, no mention is made of how the Genesis’ brief Watchers myth is also obscure regarding (1) morality of Watchers’ actions, and (2) connection between Watchers and the limiting of age (Hendel 2004: 14). Particularly obscure in that the “sons of God” are not by definition evil; in fact they are usually good (Hendel 2004: 19). Also, the “sons of God” are not sexual beings or independent of God’s will/directives anywhere else in the Hebrew Bible (Hendel 2004: 20). There were other ancient near eastern (Ugaritic) traditions regarding “sons of God” (“sons of El”), but they do not engage in sexual activity with human women (Hendel 2004: 23–24). 19 38 women will be handled. The Watchers are portrayed in 1 Enoch 6 as quite cognizant of the sin of their act, but still committing to do it. 1 Enoch 6–7 places full agency on the Watchers and nothing but existence and beauty on the women. While no firm conclusion can be drawn from silence, this lack of punishment for the women could be mean the women were not necessarily considered to be at fault. At the least, their culpability or consequence is not significant to the authors. A few divergent readings of BW in Greek and Ethiopic traditions provide interesting takes on the women’s motives. First, Nickelsburg’s 1 Enoch 8:1 includes a line that “[the men] transgressed and led the holy ones astray” along with a footnote that reads “Gka Eth omits this sentence, attested in Gks. It reflects a form of the myth in which the angelic revelations are primary and lead to the seduction of the holy ones” (Nickelsburg 2004: 25). This demonstrates that there was movement in the tradition regarding who was more at fault – humans or angels – between the Greek and Ethiopic versions of the story (Bautch 2006: 769). The fate of the women at the end of the myth provides some clues as to their original involvement in the fall of the Watchers. However, BW is unclear as to the women’s ultimate fate. In some readings the women “become peaceful” (Ge’ez BW 19:2), while others read that the women “become sirens” (Greek BW 19:2). The context and implications of these will be considered more fully in section 4, but for now it is worth noting that should the women’s fate be “peaceful,” this could suggest that the authors do not see them as having done anything wrong, and thus were victims of the Watchers’ exploitation. Should their fate be to become “sirens,” the question of their motive is more muddled. 3.2 Women’s Motives in Jubilees 39 Jubilees diverges from BW by placing a greater emphasis on human responsibility in the Watchers myth (Hanneken 2018: 49). This may be Jubilee’s way of expanding on Genesis 6:5’s statement that “The LORD saw that the wickedness of humanity was great in the earth” (emphasis mine). However, Jubilees does make clear that the flood was the consequence of the “fornication that the Watchers had illicit intercourse… with women. When they married of them whomever they chose they committed the first (acts) of impurity” (Jub. 7:21). While Jubilees is also clear that humanity was full of evil and deserving of the flood (5:2, 7:23–24), there is no particular indictment of the women as having brought the Watchers willingly. The women are called “beautiful to look at” (5:1), but nothing more is said to describe them or their actions. This lack of clarity seems to yet again demonstrate that the women’s motives and situation were not significant for the purposes of the authors/redactors. 3.3 Women’s Motives in Later Literature However, the apparent ambivalence of Jubilees and BW to the women’s motives did not last in the literature developed later into the Second Temple period. A Jewish text of late antiquity called the Testament of Reuben is forceful in its blame of women for the snaring of men (Rosen-Zvi 2006: 67). This is hardly surprising in a text written pseudepigraphically by Reuben, Jacob’s son who was cursed in Genesis for sleeping with Bilhah, his father’s wife (Bautch 2006: 779–80). Reuben warns his sons: “For evil are women, my children; and since they have no power or strength over man, they use wiles by outward attractions, that they may draw him to themselves” (T. Reub 2:13). As an example to his sons, he retells his own version of the Watchers myth: For thus they allured the Watchers who were before the flood; for as these continually beheld them, they lusted after them, and their conceived the act in their mind; for they changed themselves into the shape of men, and appeared to them when they were with their husbands. 40 And the women lusting in their minds after their forms, gave birth to giants, for the Watchers appeared to them as reaching even unto heaven. (T. Reub 2:18–19) The Testament of Reuben demonstrates how the women were attributed with seduction as the story developed; indeed, the women are even attributed with the creation of giants through their lust for the Watchers, rather than the other way around. In a similar vein, Tertullian’s De culta feminarum calls women “the devil’s gateway” (1.1) and examines “those angels who rushed from heaven on the daughters of men” (1.2). The Damascus Document also mentioned the ensnarement of the angels (CD 2:18), but does not place blame on the women as clearly as Testament of Reuben and Tertullian. Most importantly, we see different retellings of the Watchers myth reinterpreting the women’s motives to fit their own purposes and views. The Watchers myth was by no means codified or stable in its perception and portrayal of women, and this opens up possibilities for how GenAp may have employed the tale. 3.4 Possible Motives of the Women in GenAp Finally, what can we hypothesize regarding how GenAp may have retold the women in the Watchers’ myth? Perhaps the safest guess would be a mixing of the BW and Jubilees traditions in which the women play a relatively minor role and where their motives are somewhere between ambiguous and irrelevant to the authors. These fragmentary opening columns may have contained elements from the Book of Giants, though the absence of giants as developed characters in the extant text leads me to find a BG incorporation unlikely. However, another interpretation, though more speculative, could be far more enticing. The most intriguing content regarding the women is Fitzmyer’s reading ‫“( ]אן מתחתנין‬that they would not ally themselves by marriage”) (1Q20 0:17), though this is a tenuous reading at 41 best.20 If correct, it could suggest a portrayal of the women actively resisting the marriages to the angels. This resistance would be a departure from the general trend of Watchers myth’s developments, but the portrayal of women’s resistance to exploitation and the departure from interpretive trends are both attested later in GenAp. As will be discussed in chapter 4, GenAp’s retelling of Abram and Sarai’s experience with Pharaoh portrays Sarai as actively resisting Abram’s plan which she sees will result in her being taken by Pharaoh. Sarai’s resistance here is remarkable, as the majority of other retellings and commentaries on this story either ignore Sarai or emphasize her support of Abram’s plan and faith in God to protect her. GenAp diverges from this tradition and chooses to portray the woman as vocally against the impending exploitation. Thus, while there is cultural precedent to say that GenAp may ignore, downplay, or villainize the women of the Watchers myth, there is also a pattern within GenAp to tell a different story. We cannot know what the missing columns of GenAp might have contained, but they may have told a Watchers myth in which the women finally speak out and express the violation that they would have likely felt. It is reasonable to hold that GenAp likely did address the women in one direction or another according to what would serve the authors’ purpose: emphasizing the importance of endogamous marriage. The interpretation of the women as unwilling victims in the Watchers myth opens up thematic conversations around the origin of evil on the earth. In contrast to a Genesis 3 attribution of evil to a woman’s rebellious decision in Eden, these women are assaulted with the Fitzmyer (2004: 118–19) follows Beyer’s ‫“( אן מתחתנין‬that verily they would not ally themselves by marriage”), and notes Milik’s ‫תנין‬.‫ מת‬which Milik does not translate. Machiela (2009: 32) reads ‫…“( ]ין מתחננין‬seeking favor”). Fitzmyer sees the line as “an allusion to the marriage of the daughters of men and the sons of God (Gen 6:2).” 20 42 knowledge of evil by raping angels. This distinction will be examined further in my concluding chapter. 4. Fate of the Women To finish our examination of GenAp’s fragmentary Watchers myth, I will consider the traditions around what happened to the Watchers’ wives and weigh possible interpretations GenAp might have included. Which of the possible outcomes for the women of the Watchers myth would best fit the style and purpose of GenAp? The fate of the women is non-extant in GenAp, so we again turn to other influential sources – primarily 1 Enoch and Jubilees – and consider the Hellenistic influences that may have played a role in the development of this story. 4.1 Fate of the Women in the Book of Watchers The story of what becomes of the wives in BW is intriguing: different readings in different languages lead us to different conclusions about not just what happened to the women, but attitudes toward these women in the ancient world. In the absence of an extant Aramaic original of 1 Enoch 19:2, Kelley Coblentz Bautch (2006: 766–80) explores the different readings in the Greek and one in Ethiopic in her article “What Becomes of the Angel’s Wives?”, which is the most detailed exploration of the question thus far and informs my observations here. The Greek manuscript tradition of 1 Enoch 19:2 reads: καὶ αἱ γυνα̑ικες αὐτ̑ων τ̑ων παραβάντων ὰγγέλων εἰς σειρ̑ηνας γενήσονται (“And the wives of the transgressing angels will become sirens”). The use of “sirens” in the text demonstrates a significant Hellenistic influence in the story’s development. Sirens were mythic creatures with connotations of seduction, mourning, and death in Greek mythology (Richardson 1996: 1413), often as netherworldly and 43 spiritual beings (Ovid, Metam. 5:551). The term “siren,” though mostly tied with Greek myths and folklore, is employed in the Septuagint as a translation of ‫“( בת יענה‬owls” or “ostriches”) and ‫“( לילית‬night bird”), desert birds associated with mourning (Isa 13:21; 34:13–14; 43:20; Jer 50:39). Bautch (2006: 777) notes that while the Greek reads “siren,” she doubts that the original Aramaic included this reading because there is no sign of that tradition in other accounts such as Testament of Reuben or the Pseudo-Clementines. Even though the Aramaic base text likely did not include σειρ̑ηνας (“sirens”), the translation of an Aramaic term into the Greek term highlights the interpretive tradition that accompanied the transmission of the story over time. The use of σειρ̑ηνας (“sirens”) as a fate for the women in 1 Enoch’s Watchers myth is inconclusive, but opens up a multitude of potential implications. If the use of “siren” here draws on seductive imagery, then likely the authors saw the women as somewhat active in enticing the Watchers’ lust. If “siren” is meant more in the mournful and desolate context of a desert bird, then perhaps the authors saw the women more as victims left to grieve their exploitation. Either way, this reading in the Greek shows its context within Hellenistic culture and influence. GenAp also shows Hellenistic influence, as will be discussed in chapter 2, and GenAp and 1 Enoch may have been written, redacted, and received within similar contexts. The fate of the women as “sirens” in Greek editions, while not necessarily an accurate translation of the Aramaic, suggests a possible Aramaic reading that also saw women as grieving victims, thus encouraging the development of a “sirens” tradition. Considering GenAp’s own Hellenistic influence and depictions of victimized women (see chapter 4), its Watchers myth may have also reflected that tradition. However, Bautch (2006: 777) also considers the Ge’ez reading of the Ethiopic 1 Enoch, which is that “the women will become peaceful.” She feels that this reading does not sit well as a 44 faithful rendering of the Aramaic due to its ambiguity; what does it mean that they become peaceful? But even though this reading may not reflect the older traditions, it does present a different way of viewing the women as traditions developed. If they became peaceful at the end of the story, the Ethiopic readers likely saw the women as victims who receive a small recompense rather than a punishment. This suggests that at the point 1 Enoch was transmitted into Ge’ez, there was no clear consensus as to the women’s involvement in the Watchers’ descent. Finally, Bautch (2006: 778) believes that both the Ge’ez reading of “peaceful” and the Greek reading of “sirens” both could have stemmed from the Aramaic root slm meaning “destroyed.” The root could have been easily mistranslated to “peaceful” in Ethiopic. Meanwhile, the Greek translation may have meant to expand what kind of destruction was entailed. “Rather than simply have the wives of the angels in 1 Enoch 19:2 be eliminated, the Hellenistic scribe chose an evocative term, ‘sirens,’ which would at once be meaningful to his audience and convey the demise of the women” (Bautch 2006: 779). If this is the case, the older traditions of 1 Enoch may have simply resulted in the destruction of the women somehow, perhaps in the flood or perhaps more directly. Whether that destruction is meant as punishment for seducing the Watchers or simply as a necessary act of purification is uncertain; both stand as viable interpretive options for the story. 4.2 Fate of the Women in Jubilees The women of Jubilee’s Watchers myth do not receive an explicit fate in the text. However, Jubilees demonstrates consistent themes of justice and judgment being already executed, which Hanneken (2018: 56) contrasts with BW’s general view of judgment coming at a future time. Jubilees also makes a strong case for the evil of humanity leading up to the flood, 45 as noted in section 3.2. In the absence of a specifically stated fate for the women, it is reasonable that the authors/redactors of Jubilees likely grouped the women into humanity as a whole, all of whom were necessary to destroy in the flood. However, the question remains open as to what readers of Jubilees thought specifically of the women with whom the Watchers mated. For a text that devotes itself to explaining missing connections in the Genesis texts, the lack of answers around these women suggests that there was truly no dominant perspective as to their role, actions, and fate. 4.3 Possible Fate of the Women in GenAp There is no extant information regarding the fate of the women in GenAp, but the development of the traditions in 1 Enoch and Jubilees provide a context for considering possibilities. Neither text, nor the Book of Giants, emphasizes what happens to the Watchers’ wives, so it is most reasonable to imagine that GenAp followed in that tradition. 1 Enoch shows slightly more concern for the women’s outcome than Jubilees; GenAp’s overall awareness of female characters supports the idea that its authors/redactors may have fallen more toward the BW attitude regarding the wives of this myth. However, there is room to consider that GenAp may have even expanded the retelling of the women’s fate because GenAp expands other stories, as discussed regarding Sarai’s exploitation in section 3.4. At the end of Sarai’s episode of exploitation by Pharaoh and Abraham, GenAp describes Pharaoh giving recompense to Sarai specifically. This move acknowledges her offense and presents her side of the story in a way Genesis does not. If the same author/redactor was at work in the Watchers myth – and if the women were portrayed as victims as I surmise in section 3.4 – it is possible that the story in GenAp may have included a conclusion to the story in which the women are somehow acknowledged. While our best 46 hypothesis is still speculation, GenAp as a whole provides a context where expanding the female story is natural and prevalent. 5. Conclusion The presence of the Watchers myth in GenAp is a fascinating lens through which to begin reading this scroll. The myth introduces us to questions of endogamy, purity, marriage, exploitation, and identity that will continue to expand throughout the women’s stories in the remaining columns. Little can be known for certain regarding the way GenAp tells the Watchers myth, but considering GenAp’s concerns over women’s purity, lineage, and expanded characterization, it is likely that the text contained a significant retelling of the Watchers myth that may have included more details around the women in the story. If it did, it would be the most female-concerned version of the Watchers myth known to us today. The remaining chapters of this thesis will examine particular, named women found in GenAp. The Watchers myth as a likely opening of the scroll is a meaningful foreshadowing of why these women are relevant to the authors/redactors of GenAp. At its most basic, the Watchers myth lays a thematic foundation for GenAp’s readers: proper marriage is of utmost importance, and straying from it is disastrous. 47 Chapter 2: Oration, Outbursts, and Orgasm: The Active Character of Batenosh While the Watchers myth in the opening columns of GenAp grounds this text’s concern over purity and lineage, the text new shifts to a narrative focusing on a specific woman and her husband. In GenAp 2:1–18, Batenosh and her husband Lamech are stunned by the birth of an extraordinary child whose otherworldly appearance causes Lamech to question the child’s parentage. In her defense, Batenosh makes an emotional appeal to Lamech lasting a remarkable ten lines of text. Her story begins the clear expansion of female characters as GenAp’s fascinating method for emphasizing endogamy. Batenosh is perhaps the most striking example of this expansion in GenAp. While she is totally non-existent in Genesis, she gains a name, a role, a story, and speech of her own in GenAp’s retelling. This chapter will examine the exchange between Batenosh and Lamech in GenAp 2:1–18, analyzing Batenosh’s speech for its presence, content, and style. These observations will demonstrate GenAp’s awareness and inclusion of women’s voices and perspectives and attribute this expansion to Jewish lineage concerns and stylistic relationship with Hellenism. 1. She Speaks The birth of Noah was a familiar and oft-retold story among Enochic and other Second Temple literature, each version with telling differences. Genesis first mentions Noah in the genealogy of Genesis 5, in which Noah is singled out by the inclusion of an explanation of his name (Gen 5:28–29). No mother is mentioned in Genesis, but the expansion around Noah’s significant name leaves the door open for further development around the story of Noah’s birth. 48 It appears that many authors took that open door as Noah’s significance as a priestly figure grew (see chapter 3 for Noah as a priestly figure). Batenosh’s speaking role in GenAp’s account of Noah’s birth is an important divergence from other traditions. Before analyzing the content of her speech, it is first significant that she is given a voice at all. This section will compare GenAp with other birth accounts of Noah and demonstrate that the authors of this text saw women’s voices as more important for their purposes than the authors of Genesis. 1.1 Noah’s Birth in 1 Enoch and Jubilees First Enoch’s account of the birth of Noah in chapter 106–107 includes an unnamed mother and a new scene surrounding Noah’s nascence. The text details Lamech’s worries over the strange appearance of his newborn son, who is born with a body “whiter than snow and redder than a rose, his hair all white and like white wool and curly. Glorious was his face. When he opened his eyes, the house shone like the sun. And he stood up from the hands of the midwife, and he opened his mouth and praised the Lord of eternity” (1 Enoch 106:2–3). Not surprisingly, Lamech fears that the child is not his but perhaps was conceived by one of the fallen Watchers; his immediate course of action is to seek counsel from his father Methuselah. Notably, Lamech is not portrayed asking his wife the question over the legitimacy of his son. This lack of what would seem to be a natural part of the story leaves a wide-open opportunity for further development, one that the author of GenAp has reason to take.21 The fragmentary texts of 4Q534–536, known as 4QNaissance de Noé, appear to be related to Noah’s birth account in 1 Enoch. They do not contain any extant name, leading scholars to speculate at length whose birth account the fragments contain. No mother is extant; this text is relevant to my current study only to emphasize that Noah’s birth – or perhaps simply birth accounts generally – was growing in significance (Peters 2008: 101–06), opening a path for traditions about Noah’s mother to also grow. 21 49 While Jubilees does not include a spectacular birth story, it emphasizes the identity of Noah’s mother and her place in the family. Jubilees expands Noah’s mother by giving her a name, a father, and a lineage that makes her both Lamech’s cousin and wife: “In the fifteenth jubilee, in the third week, Lamech married a woman whose name was Betanosh,22 the daughter of Barakiel, the daughter of his father’s brother. During this week she gave birth to a son for him, and he named him Noah…” (Jub. 4:28). The emphasis on Batenosh’s identity and lineage is a tool Second Temple authors often used to highlight the importance of endogamous marriage, as will be addressed more fully in chapter 3. So Jubilees and 1 Enoch provide two very different approaches to the character of Batenosh: 1 Enoch includes her within a scene but without identity, while Jubilees provides identity but does not contextualize it within a birth narrative. Genesis Apocryphon appears to contain both of these traditions, and expands them further. While GenAp’s exact relationship with 1 Enoch and Jubilees is uncertain, it is clear that GenAp maintains and expands traditions found in both texts, combining them and adding in its own significant details (Stuckenbruck 2014: 76). The text prior to column 2 is highly fragmentary, but it likely included the genealogical placement of Batenosh as Lamech’s cousin – as known in Jubilees – due to the consistent use of such placement for other women throughout GenAp. The same name is present, indicating a shared tradition with Jubilees not found in 1 Enoch. Column 2 opens in a first-person discourse from Lamech as he begins to fear that his son has been conceived by the Watchers; Lamech’s fear suggests column 1 likely held a description of Noah’s extraordinary birth similar to 1 Enoch 106. As in 1 Enoch, Lamech goes to his father 22 The spellings of names from Hebrew and Aramaic traditions may vary due to the lack of vowel markings in the ancient texts. For example, in Hebrew and Aramaic Noah’s mother’s name is simply ‫“( בתאנוש‬btns”); various interpreters choose to fill in the vowels differently. I have chosen Batenosh, though Betanosh, Betenos, and Bitenosh are other alternatives. 50 for counsel. But before an exchange with Methuselah, GenAp includes a scene that is “without parallel in any other text” (Stuckenbruck 2014: 65): a dialogue between Lamech and Batenosh. 1.2 Batenosh as Character and Speaker in GenAp Several literary strategies present Batenosh as a meaningful character with significance to the story. In the aftermath of the Watchers myth that led to children of mixed and uncertain descent, Batenosh’s name – which means “daughter of man” – speaks directly to the author’s concern over proper and pure lineage. Additionally, Batenosh’s identity was of increasing importance as the figure of Noah grew in importance.23 This increasing emphasis on the mothers of significant figures was more and more common in Second Temple literature, including the expansion of Jochebed – mother of Moses – in the Aramaic Levi Document (ALD 75) and Visions of Amram (4Q543 4 2; 4Q544 1 3, 5, 7; 4Q545 1 a–b ii 17; 4Q546 2 3; 4Q547 1–2 iii 4, 6) or even the detail devoted to Mary in literature surrounding the figure of Jesus (Luke 2:1–40; Matthew 1:18–25). This trend continued in later literature such as the Talmudic tractate Bava Batra 91a that discusses the names of the mothers of Abraham, Haman, David, Samson – names that appear to have been in circulation prior to the tractate’s authorship around 450 CE.24 But beyond being named and present, GenAp makes Batenosh an active participant in the unfolding story by giving her a speaking role in the text. This is the first extant speech attributed to a woman in GenAp, and at a lengthy ten lines (2:8–18), it is a speech that sets a tone for the rest of the women in the text. Why did the authors apparently create this new dialogue with 23 Ben Ari (2007: 531) notes that one 11th century Muslim tradition details the story of Terah and his wife surrounding the mysterious birth of Abraham. Though widely separated by time and culture, we can note the similarity in that expanding the story of a patriarch’s birth means expanding the female figure of Terah’s wife who is given language and agency unmentioned in the OT. Interestingly, Dorothy Peters (2008: 117–121) also finds significant parallels between the figures of Noah and Abram within GenAp. 24 See Sefaria’s free online translation and commentary of the William Davidson Talmud, with the Bava Batra: https://www.sefaria.org/Bava_Batra.91a?lang=bi. 51 Batenosh? With her lineage identity already intact, what additional purpose does Batenosh’s speaking serve? It could be that the author wanted to even more convincingly demonstrate Noah’s humanity by getting direct confirmation of his parentage from Batenosh. But the dialogue may also be included for the most obvious reason: it seems like what the characters would do. In the case of witnessing the birth of an extraordinary and potentially illegitimate child, it seems only reasonable that Lamech would ask his wife for clarification. Stuckenbruck (2014, 67) sees the presence of Batenosh’s speech as “additional material [that] would have functioned to reinforce the vividness of the world within which Lamech’s distress takes shape.” In other words, the expansion of Batenosh to include speech here could be simply the filling out of a good story. On the most basic level, the inclusion of a speaking role for Batenosh – especially in comparison to her complete absence in Genesis – demonstrates a growing desire to portray the presence and role of women. Even if her speech is employed simply as an exciting narrative addition, it accomplishes much more than that. The ten lines make Batenosh an essential player in a story where – not long before – she was entirely nonessential. Furthermore, her speech impacts our knowledge of both GenAp’s authors and audience: their use of Batenosh’s voice signals a growing literary culture where women speak, as will be explored further in the following section. Beyond the presence of Batenosh’s voice, the manner in which she speaks tells us even more. 2. How She Speaks 52 The existence of any speech from Batenosh is significant, but the author goes even further into her characterization. In GenAp 2:8, Batenosh responds to Lamech’s accusation by speaking “very harshly” and weeping as she begins to passionately explain her innocence. She calls on Lamech to remember their sex together by referencing her “pleasure in the heat of the moment” and her “panting breath” (2:10), the significance of which will be discussed in section 3. After this, the text includes a vacat separating her deeply emotional appeal from the next, in which she “controlled her emotions and continued speaking” with Lamech (2:13). From lines 13–18, Batenosh assures Lamech that the child is his, swearing by “the Great Holy One, the King of Heaven” (2:14), and explicitly denying any sexual relationship with the Watchers (2:16). Both her speaking episodes end with her claim to be speaking everything “truthfully” (2:10, 18).25 When she finishes speaking, another vacat ends the section, after which Lamech makes her no response but goes instead to his father Methuselah, rejoining the tradition as recounted in 1 Enoch. Batenosh’s reaction and argumentation to Lamech is emotional and detailed. Her mannerisms are an example of Hellenistic influences on the form of storytelling that the author of GenAp employs. In this section I will demonstrate that the expanded emotions of female characters in GenAp – while serving multiple purposes – reflect literary and cultural trends of the time. 2.1 Emotions in Jewish and Greek literature GenAp’s composition around the 2nd century BCE places it in a growing milieu of Greek and Jewish fiction with distinct literary characteristics. Johnson (2005: 575–76) notes that one of 25 For a further exploration of the term ‫“( קושט‬righteousness,” “truth,”), see chapter 4 footnote 34. 53 these common characteristics includes “an acute interest in psychology and emotions, particularly the psychology of female characters, who play a much larger than expected role in the narrative.” Wills (2015: 1) agrees, noting that “important women characters” were a growing feature of Jewish novels of the Second Temple period. Daniel, Tobit, Esther, Judith, Joseph and Aseneth, and 3 Maccabees are Jewish fictions26 in which this or other common elements can be found (Boyd-Taylor 1997: 84). Two of these – Daniel and Tobit – are Aramaic compositions,27 and nearly all include increasingly developed female characters, making GenAp even more at home among them culturally and contextually. Below, I will examine the developments of Esther and Susanna in the Septuagint that can illuminate the retelling of Batenosh’s story in GenAp. 2.1.1 Esther’s Emotion The Septuagint’s version of the book of Esther is no mere translation from the Hebrew. It demonstrates a growing expectation for the portrayal of human emotions, including those of women.28 It “takes the rather short and matter-of-fact narrative of the Hebrew Esther and expands it with great emotional displays from Esther and Mordecai, which include weeping, prayers, and, in Esther’s case, a dead faint” (White Crawford 2008: 121–22). Boyd-Taylor sees Jewish literature of the Second Temple period as bearing the influence of Hellenism, and says the development of emotions can be regarded as “literary assimilation of the narrative to the 26 Sara Johnson (2005: 571–89) is careful to note that the genre terminology can be misleading. She uses the term “Jewish fictions” in an attempt to allow for a variety of different genres/audience/purposes within the category. 27 Daniel 2:4–7:28 is written in Aramaic, making it an exciting conversation partner in research of Aramaic texts of the Second Temple period. While Tobit was known only in Greek for centuries, the Dead Sea Scrolls uncovered one Hebrew and four Aramaic copies of the text; there is now a general consensus that Tobit’s language of composition was Aramaic (Machiela and Perrin 2014: 113). 28 Beate Ego examines how Esther expresses more emotions in the Septuagint version of Esther, which includes her prayer, seeking to demonstrate “an interesting interplay between the narrator’s and the figures’ voices…” (Ego 2015: 84). She sees the expression of emotions “as a result of the encounter between Greek and Jewish culture and religion” (Ego 2015: 84). Ego separately addresses the expressed emotions in Esther’s words vs. those the narration attributes to her. She references the Greek development of the story of the binding of Isaac as another example of how emotions are expanded from the original Hebrew (Ego 2015: 88). 54 popular fiction of [the author’s] time, namely, the prose romance of late Hellenism” (BoydTaylor 1997: 99–100). He continues: …during this period of latency, a new class of Jewish readers was emerging, a cosmopolitan one firmly situated in the ‘push and shove’ of life in the great Hellenistic empires. And so by about 200 BCE, with the renewal of significant Jewish literary activity, we would expect an accommodation on the part of Jewish authors to the imaginative needs of this generation. We need not posit a dramatic change in the substance of Jewish story telling; the same sort of stories no doubt continued to be told, stories based on biblical and Persian epic models. Yet, with the advent of a new readership, these stories were likely construed to serve new purposes (Boyd-Taylor 1997: 104). Displays of emotion and speech – especially from female characters – are a divergence from the style of Genesis, but they are no divergence from Greek and Jewish novel-style literature of the Second Temple period.29 GenAp is a pertinent example of traditional Jewish stories from Genesis being retold “to serve new purposes” (Boyd-Taylor 1997: 104, above). 2.1.2 Susanna’s Resistance The Greek addition to the Aramaic book of Daniel includes the story of Susanna, a woman who resists an attempted rape, is falsely accused by her would-be rapists, is condemned by a court in which she is given no defense, and is saved only by God’s response to her prayer through young Daniel. The author vividly describes her emotions and speech, saying that she “groaned” (Daniel 13:22), “cried out with a loud voice” (13:42), and referencing her “tears” (13:35). As with the emotional Esther above, the authors depict Susanna’s character in vividly emotional detail. The descriptions in Susanna’s story emphasize resistance as another significant feature of the developing Second Temple literature surrounding women. With the increase in the portraying 29 Additionally, both literary cultures may have been influenced by Persian culture (Johnson 2005: 589). 55 of women’s emotions and responses in Greek and Jewish fictions, it is not surprising to see a growing portrayal of women’s resistance through their speech and actions. While Susanna’s resistance is possibly the most desperate, she is surrounded by other women actively resisting their own exploitation or that of their family and people: Esther resists the plot of Haman, Anna opposes her husband Tobit, Judith attacks the enemy leader Holofernes, Aseneth initially refuses to marry Joseph. Within this context, GenAp similarly portrays both Batenosh and Sarai resisting their husbands: Batenosh opposes Lamech’s accusation of infidelity, and Sarai begs Abram not to go down to Egypt. As discussed in the previous chapter, the women in GenAp’s opening Watcher’s myth may also have been depicted as resisting rape by the Watchers. The theme of resistance is profoundly humanizing in that it directly acknowledges and incriminates the victimizing situations in which these women found themselves. Even though many of these resisting women are unsuccessful (women of the Watcher’s myth, Batenosh, Sarai, and nearly Susanna), the portrayal of their emotions – grief, fear, weeping, shouting – contributes to a more powerful recognition of their trauma. Juliana L. Claassens examines female resistance in the Old Testament, and sees “lament [as] an act of resistance that gives to the one who suffers the dignity of speech” (Claassens 2016: 40). Her work examines the story of Susanna as well as that of Tamar in 2 Samuel 13, finding that these stories “…hold up female agency – the signs of female resistance – even though it may be slight, muted, or limited in light of the overwhelming show of male power, helping us not further relegate women to a state of powerlessness” (Claassens 2016: 49). In other words, the portrayal of resistance – even when futile – is one of the most important acts of resistance. As a woman who speaks in opposition to an accusation, Batenosh’s words become even more significant. Her attempt to persuade Lamech is unsuccessful, but the action itself tells us 56 that women’s agency and resistance was not just present in the authors’ culture, but worthy of representation in a biblical retelling. Were this to be all we knew of Batenosh’s speech, it would be a valuable contribution to our known portrayals of Second Temple women. But what she says may be the most climactic piece of her story. 3. What She Says Aside from the significance of Batenosh being given a resisting voice, the content of her speech reveals scientific and philosophical ideas around sex and conception for the authors of GenAp. These ideas not only demonstrate the cultural overlap of Hellenism and Judaism in the Second Temple period, they also give us a new angle for understanding why authors of the time may have seen women as even more important for pure lineage than Jews of previous eras. This section will examine Batenosh’s use of her orgasm as her argument to prove Lamech’s paternity of her son, overviewing the science and philosophy hidden beneath her claim. 3.1 Batenosh’s Orgasm If confronted by an accusation of unfaithfulness and conception by another man, women today would likely take certain courses of action – perhaps remind the husband of their deep love and affection for him, perhaps go get a DNA test. But no one would likely base their defense upon the recalling of a passionate and heated orgasm. Batenosh does. In GenAp 2:9–10, she responds to Lamech’s confrontation by imploring him to remember “my pleasure… in the heat of the moment and my panting breath!” But this reference is not only relegated to the immediate, emotional response. Even after Lamech describes her as having “controlled her emotions and continued speaking with me” (2:13), she again makes reference to “my pleasure” (2:14) when 57 making her defense. In fact, it is her only argument, aside from her oaths. What is going on here? What context are we missing that could explain why a woman’s pleasure would hold such weight in the face of Lamech’s accusation? 3.2 Orgasm as Proof of Conception The Hellenistic world was full of growing scientific and philosophical ideas, many regarding theories around sexuality. These different theories had a great deal to say about the involvement or lack of involvement on the part of the woman. Early Greek philosophers held the “widespread notion that the father alone makes the child and provides the substance for its coming-into-being and development…” (Horst 2014: 613–14), as is stated in Aeschylus’ Eumenides (657–661) in which Apollo says: “She who is called the child’s mother is not its begetter, but only the nurse of the newly sown embryo. The begetter is the male, and she as a stranger preserves for a stranger the offspring, if no god blights its birth.” Aristotle provided another early theory of conception in the Second Temple period in which he held that an embryo was conceived by a man’s sperm and the presence of a woman’s blood. While both male and female thus contributed to the conception, the male sperm was the more active component while the woman’s contribution was more passive (Gen. anim. 1.20). However, the other major theory around conception comes from Hippocratic philosophy, and held that both the mother and father contributed sperm to form the new embryo (On Generation, 7). Most intriguingly, this “double seed” theory paralleled the sexual experiences of both the man and the woman, seeing the orgasmic ejaculation of the man as the parallel to a woman’s orgasm, both of which were thought to result in the contribution of sperm (Horst 2014: 615). Under this theory, it appears that a woman’s orgasm would have been seen as an essential part of conception. The double seed theory begins to make sense of Batenosh’s argumentation. 58 By reminding Lamech of her “pleasure,” she is causing him to remember the very moment of her conception, and that he was the one to father the child. Batenosh’s argument demonstrates the level in which the author of GenAp was familiar with Hellenistic science, perhaps even the very texts cited above or some like them. Ida Frölich saw the reflection of Hellenistic science in GenAp clearly: Batenosh’s argumentation is astounding, not because [of] its being based on the theory of double seed (well known from both oriental and Greek cultures) but because [of] its phrasing which is very similar to that of Greek medical works. It can be supposed that the author of the dialogue in Genesis Apocryphon was aware with some Greek systematic tractate, similar to those exemplified here by the Hippocratean text and Soranos” (Frölich 1998: 188). The apparent familiarity of GenAp with Greek scientific works strengthens the connection between Jewish and Hellenistic influences on the text. Whether the author was familiar with these specific texts and theories is likely but still uncertain. However, we can conclude that this perspective of the man and woman’s role in the conception of children was likely commonplace among the Second Temple audience. This seemingly small and biological piece of cultural knowledge may have been a significant factor in a developing view of women, as addressed below. 3.3 Increased Significance of Women in Procreation The theory of conception held by the authors and readers of GenAp appears to be that in which the woman’s “seed” was equally important and its release was signaled by orgasm, leading to conception. This theory of conception may be another piece in understanding why women were increasing in value for the authors: they were no longer just baby-bearers, but cocreators of the children who would carry forward Israel’s line. The alternate Aristotelian view would have seen the father as essentially the primary parent, relegating the mother to that of a 59 vessel carrying the father’s child. Van der Horst affirmed that a more male-dominant theory of conception “reflects the common assumption of the absolute superiority of the male role, a theory that had obvious implications for the evaluation of the position of women” (Horst 2014: 614). Perhaps older Jewish texts in which women are mostly absent – such as Genesis – were composed by authors who held such a male-dominant view of procreation. Opposing this view, the “double seed” theory made men and women equal contributors to the child. This biological equality could be part of what made exogamous intermarriage seem more dangerous to the authors of GenAp and related Second Temple literature. Under the “double seed” mentality, children born to a mixed marriage would be truly part foreign, whereas the alternate male-dominant perspective of conception could see children of an Israelite father as wholly Israelite, even if born to a foreign mother. The mindset of both parents as equal contributors could thus have raised the importance of endogamy in a culture whose concern over pure lineage was continuing to grow. In summary, Batenosh’s argumentation reveals the pre-scientific ideas of the culture surrounding the text. That intellectual tradition suggests why women may have been increasing in significance for a Jewish culture concerned with maintaining cultural purity; it is a piece of the puzzle in understanding the amplification and development of women in GenAp and other Second Temple literature. 4. Conclusion This chapter has explored the significance of Batenosh’s character and voice in GenAp. The very presence of Batenosh’s impassioned speech sets a precedent at the beginning of GenAp 60 for women’s voices to be present, active, and expanded. Her argument’s style and content gives us insight into not only the deep connection between Greek and Jewish ways of writing and thinking, but also into the growing depictions of female resistance in Second Temple characters. Furthermore, the science behind Batenosh’s defense provides another clue as to why female characters were growing in importance to the authors of GenAp. As Noah’s mother, Batenosh is a significant figure to include and develop, but GenAp is only just beginning. The next chapter will dive more deeply into the significance of endogamy as portrayed in this text through the identities of women throughout Noah’s family. 61 Chapter 3: Women of the Family: Emzara and Her Daughters The figure of Noah was growing in popularity throughout the Second Temple period. Noah, a formerly underdeveloped patriarch, offered early Jews a new character in whom to reflect their own struggles living in an oppressive post-exilic culture (Machiela 2010: 998). Most interestingly for us, with the development of Noah came also the need for his wife to play a more significant role in the story. In this chapter I will examine the information GenAp provides about Emzara, her daughters, daughters-in-law, and granddaughters. I will expand the connection between female characterization and the emphasis on endogamy in Second Temple Aramaic literature by exploring how Second Temple authors – especially in Aramaic literature – used their writings to rewrite the value of endogamy into Israelite history. To do this, I will examine the extant information in GenAp regarding Emzara and her daughters, and then consider the relevance of that information in light of Aramaic Enochic texts, broader Aramaic pseudepigrapha at Qumran, Tobit, known in fragmentary Aramaic originals30 and Hebrew translation at Qumran, and the closely related Hebrew book of Jubilees. This constellation of texts will reveal that endogamous marriage was growing in significance for these Second Temple authors, and that this significance resulted in a greater awareness of women’s presence, identity, and role in maintaining Israelite lineage.31 30 While Tobit has been known for centuries by its Greek texts, the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls unveiled fragments of five Aramaic copies and one Hebrew copy of Tobit, causing a shift in scholarly consensus to see Aramaic as Tobit’s language of composition; see Perrin, “Tobit’s Context and Contacts in the Qumran Aramaic Anthology,” 24. 31 Dr. Andrew Perrin’s (forthcoming) imagery of a constellation is an excellent and helpful illustration for the relationships between Second Temple texts. He builds upon the work of Benjamin (2019), Najman (2011), and Wright (2010). 62 1. Emzara and Her Daughters in the Genesis Apocryphon The Genesis Apocryphon provides more information about Noah’s wife, daughters, and granddaughters than is found in any other ancient text. While the authors of GenAp clearly draw on many sources to gather their details, the finished product ultimately contains the most expansion around female characters in the Noah story of any tradition known at the time. This section will overview the details the authors of GenAp include and lay the groundwork for exploring the related texts that share sources or agendas with GenAp. 1.1 Emzara The episode between Batenosh and Lamech – as expounded in the previous chapter – leads into a long conversation between Lamech and Methuselah over Noah’s identity, which ends in Column 5 with a full line vacat. A new episode begins at the bottom of column 5 with the title ‫“( [פר]ש[ג]ן כתב מלי נוח‬A [c]o[p]y of the book of the words of Noah”) (1Q20 5:29). This is but one of many references to a “Book of Noah” among ancient texts, but is significant in that it appears to make the most direct claim to be the otherwise unknown Book of Noah (Peters 2008: 123–4). Scholars debate whether this section of GenAp is in fact a lost Book of Noah incorporated by the author, or is simply the author’s creation under the inspiration of a “Book of Noah” tradition.32 Some scholars believe the title “[A Copy] Of the Book of Noah” found in GenAp 5:29 refers to a real but nowlost text. Within that line of scholarship, there are even still differing ideas regarding the extent to which first-person Noah content in GenAp could derive from the theoretical “Book of Noah.” While many texts reference written traditions associated with Noah, GenAp is the only extant text that claims in a direct incipit to be the “Book of Noah” (Peters 2008: 123–4). On the idea that GenAp’s content reflects some material drawn from a “Book of Noah,” see Stone (2006: 18); Baxter (2006: 179); and García Martínez (1992: 24 – 44). Others hold that the “Book of Noah” tradition was folkloric and oral, seeing the first-person Noah narrative as an intentional shift within a unified GenAp; see Lewis (1978: 14); Falk (2007: 100); Werman (1999: 171–81). Perrin (2013: 122) sees the section of GenAp under the incipit “[A Copy] of the Book of Noah” as content composed by GenAp’s author with the intention of being attributed to Noah within a closed narrative context. 32 63 Whatever the identity of the section beginning at the bottom of Column 5, it leads immediately into a first-person narrative from the perspective of Noah as he recounts his own righteousness ‫“( מן עול‬from infancy”) (1Q20 6:1) and for ‫“( כול יומי‬all of my days”) (1Q20 6:2). A small vacat transitions into Noah’s adult life with the phrase ‫ב[א]די[ן] הוית אנה נוח גבר ואחדת‬ ‫“( בקושטא ואתקפת בחכמתא א[ ] ולאמזרע ברתה לי לאנתה‬T[h]e[n] I, Noah, became a grown man. I held fast to righteousness33 and strengthened myself in wisdom … [ ] … I went and took Emzera his daughter as my wife”) (1Q20 6:6–7). While column 6 contains six or seven lines in which Noah affirms his own righteousness, steadfastness, and wisdom, his marriage to Emzara (also translated variously “Emzera” or “Imzera”) is the first specific action presented to support his claim of uprightness.34 As will be seen throughout this chapter, there is a common trend among Aramaic texts of the Second Temple period to involve proper marriages in proving the good standing and personal righteousness of various patriarchs and priestly figures. This is particularly fitting for a text like GenAp whose primary antagonists – thus far in the text – are the Watchers, whose principal crimes involve inappropriately mixed marriages and the simultaneous introduction of evil to humans. Even Emzara’s name – which means “mother of human descendants” or “mother of The presentation of patriarchs and other important figures as ‫“( קושט‬righteous”) is a clear trend across the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls. Building on the attribution of righteousness to Noah in Genesis (6:9; 7:1), Peters (2008: 110–11) notes the repeated use of the term ‫“( קושט‬righteousness”) in 1Q20 5:1–6. She parallels Noah’s righteousness in GenAp with an equally righteous attribution to Levi in the Aramaic Levi Document (4Q213 4 5–6), as well as Abram’s righteousness in 1Q20 19:25. Within the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls, righteousness is a theme in Tobit (4Q196 17 ii 1, 3, 5, 9) and appears four times in the fragmentary Words of Qahat (4Q542 1 i 12; ii 2, 8; 9 7). Interestingly, these figures all tend to be associated with endogamous marriages as a way of demonstrating their righteousness, as this chapter explicates regarding Noah in GenAp. Notably, ‫ קושט‬is also used in Batenosh’s speech, as she attests to the truth of her claims saying ‫“( בקושט כולא א[חוינ]ך‬I am telling you everything in truth;” translation mine) (1Q20 2:10). 34 Machiela 2010: “The Bible calls Noah ‘a righteous man, blameless in his generation’ (Gen 6:9), although not a word is mentioned to demonstrate his righteousness. For this and other reasons, Noah became an object of much speculation during the Second Temple period. This was especially true for early Jews who felt that they, like Noah, lived amid an utterly wicked generation in which they alone found favor in the sight of the Lord” (998). 33 64 seed/offspring” – is an intentional response to the mixed divine/human marriages and offspring that are so condemned in GenAp (Fitzmyer 2004: 147).35 Noah’s marriage to Emzara is not clearly endogamous from the extant text in 1Q20 6:7. However, several other factors can lead us to confidently assume that the author’s intention was to demonstrate Noah’s careful adherence to finding a proper marriage. First, the inclusion of a name for Emzara – who is unnamed in Genesis – increases the emphasis on her character. As GenAp paints Noah more righteously than any other text of the Second Temple period (Machiela 2010: 999), its emphasis on Emzara as his wife is certainly meant to contribute to the depiction of his righteousness. As will be proven throughout this chapter, a marriage within a circle of close relatives would have been essential to the author’s portrait of Noah as an exemplary Jew. Second, Emzara is described with the phrase “his daughter,” leading us to reasonably conclude that the name of some male figure was present in the now non-extant part of the line, likely a family member. Jubilees contains an extant identification of Emzara’s father: Rake’el, Noah’s father’s brother. Fitzmyer read this name into the ink traces beginning line 7 (Fitzmyer 2004: 77), but his reading is not supported by the editions of Machiela (2009), Qimron (1999), Beyer (2004), Abegg and Wise (2005), and Falk (2007). However, Machiela does agree that while no specific name is distinguishable, is it “quite possible that some form of the name of Emzera’s father once stood here” (Machiela 2009: 44). Additionally, while that name and identification is not extant in GenAp, Jubilees and GenAp do share other features surrounding Noah’s marriage, including the name “Emzara.” The shared information between GenAp and Considering the dual-seed scientific idea discussed in chapter 2 section 3.3, the names Emzara (“mother of human offspring”) and Batenosh (“daughter of man”) take on additional significance for demonstrating that these women are proper marriage partners who will carry on a pure human line. 35 65 Jubilees – expanded further in section 2.5 – allows for a likely overlap of Emzara’s identity as a woman who is closely related to Noah. The inclusion of Emzara as a named and identified woman serves an intentional purpose for the author of GenAp. The ancient authors were attempting to make sense of the evil that led to the flood, perhaps in light of their own struggles with post-exilic imposition and increasing oppression from non-Jewish peoples (Bautch 2009: 87–122; Machiela 2010: 998). Noah’s marriage to a relative distinguished him from the intermingling Watchers. This difference contributed to demonstrating why Noah was righteous enough to be chosen to survive the flood and begin humanity – and the Jewish people – again. Emzara may be mentioned again in 1Q20 8:1 (Loader 2009: 293), where Fitzmyer (2004: 151) and Falk (2007:36) read “his wife after him.” Machiela (2009: 49) disagrees, reading “its mate after it,” noting the Hebrew parallel phrase is used twice in Gen 7:2 to refer to an animal and its mate. 1.2 Daughters and Daughters-in-Law The portrayal of Noah’s righteousness through endogamous marriage does not end with his own marriage to Emzara. First, 1Q20 6:7–8 lists the birth of Noah’s children: “She conceived by way of me and gave birth to th[r]ee sons [and daughters.]” The inclusion of “daughters,” while reconstructed, is widely held and aligns well with the coming line. The notice of the birth of Noah’s daughters is also a small but significant departure from Genesis. Genesis 6:9 announces the birth of Noah’s three sons but makes no mention of daughters there or anywhere else in the Noah narrative. Of course, this focus on sons is typical of genealogical patterns of Genesis in which daughters are rarely if ever included. Genesis Apocryphon, however, continues 66 to follow its own different tradition that finds daughters significant in the portrait of Noah as an ideal patriarch. Immediately following the announcement of the birth of his three sons and daughters, 1Q20 6:8–9 states, “Then I took wives for my sons from among the daughters of my brothers, and my daughters I gave to the sons of my brothers, according to the custom of the eternal statute [that] the [Lo]rd of Eternity [gave…] to humanity.” This line shows that concern over endogamous marriage also applied to Noah’s daughters, even though their marriages would take them outside the direct line of Noah and thus make them irrelevant to the remainder of the text. The description of their marriages likely serves to continue depicting Noah as a model Jew, a father who intentionally gives his daughters in marriage to relatives, just as he expects the daughters of his relatives to be given to his sons as wives. Most significant in lines 8–9 is Noah’s attribution of his arranged endogamous marriages to the command of the “[Lo]rd of Eternity,” according to “the eternal statute.” What is this eternal statute apparently given by God that requires marriage within close family units? There is no statement of this kind in the Torah, and certainly not one chronologically given before Noah. No other “eternal statute” is referenced in the Dead Sea Scrolls. This “eternal statute” is a fascinating clue into the development of ideas around endogamy as a divine command, one that will be explored further in section 2.4. 1.3 Granddaughters Columns 7–11 are quite fragmentary, but appear to include Noah’s narration of the flood, his faithfulness to God’s commands, praise to God for his survival, and priest-like offering of a sacrifice as he “atoned for all the earth in its entirety” (1Q20 10:13). Whatever the content, they 67 are clearly a vast expansion upon the Genesis flood narrative (Machiela 2010: 131). Column 12 finds Noah entering a post-diluvian world where he and his sons descend from Mount Ararat and build a city (1Q20 12:8–9). Immediately after this line, Noah recounts, “Then [son]s[…and daugh]ters were born to[…my sons] after the flood” (1Q20 12:9). The following three lines list the names of the sons and the number of daughters born to Noah’s sons (1Q20 12:10–12). While there is a clear distinction between the grandsons and granddaughters – none of the granddaughters are named – their inclusion and number is quite intentional. According to 1Q20 12:10–12, the numbers of sons and daughters born to Noah’s sons are as follows: Shem fathered five sons and five daughters, Ham fathered four sons and seven daughters, and Japheth fathered seven sons and four daughters. The numbers speak for themselves: Shem’s children could intermarry within themselves, while Ham and Japheth’s children could marry between their two families. The parallels found in these numbers are indicative of the author’s intention to portray Shem’s line as more pure and priestly than Ham and Japheth’s (VanderKam 1994: 459). Loader (2009: 292) explains that “the author is apparently making clear that in the restart of humanity after the flood, the particular chosen line of Shem maintained purity of line uncontaminated by intermarriage.” Jubilees also participates in this tradition regarding the line of Shem, and the topic will be discussed in section 2.5. For now, the information GenAp provides regarding Noah’s grandsons and granddaughters continues to emphasize the importance of endogamous marriage within every generation. The attention to these details is fastidious, far more so than the antecedent Genesis traditions. The remainder of GenAp’s Noah content is too fragmentary to discern whether the daughters and granddaughters of Noah receive more attention or expansion. But there is no doubt 68 that the scribes saw these women as essential components for the maintenance of an ideal patriarchal lineage. 2. Endogamy and Female Characterization The value of endogamy to maintain a patriarchal line is the backbone of GenAp, prominent in every story in the extant text. This section will overview the multiple methods by which GenAp raises the value of endogamy from beginning to end and will then broaden our view to related texts that follow the same trajectory: a higher emphasis on pure lineage leading to the increased characterization of women. 2.1 Endogamy in the Genesis Apocryphon GenAp demonstrates its concern with proper endogamous marriages a number of ways. First, as seen in chapter 2, the presence of the Watcher’s myth was almost certainly a commentary on the need for marriages within a pure group. While the Watchers cause numerous problems and commit a variety of crimes against humanity, mixing with humans through marriage is their primary offense. This backdrop of chaos characterized by unnatural and improper marriages sets the stage for a figure to enter whose righteousness is demonstrated most clearly by his commitment to proper marriage. In essence, while righteousness and purity are the focal issues, the Watchers myth uses marriage – and thus women – as the primary literary gauge for who is evil and who is righteous. Second, the episode between Lamech and Batenosh transitions from the Watcher’s story to Noah’s story but maintains purity of lineage as the primary concern. While Batenosh’s parentage is not specified in the extant text, her very name (“daughter of man”) forcefully makes 69 the point that Lamech – father to a child chosen by God – has chosen a wife untouched by the line of the Watchers. Third, as discussed in this chapter, GenAp provides expanded lineage details for the female characters in the narrative, which is a tactic of both GenAp and Jubilees that departs from Genesis. Noah’s wife, Emzara, gains a name and specified father in 1Q20 6:7. Noah states explicitly that he arranges endogamous marriages for his sons and daughters, and later the number of his grandchildren strongly imply intermarriage within their families. And perhaps most importantly, GenAp presents endogamy not only through the example set by the marriages in the story, but through expressing it as a divine mandate (1Q20 6:8–9). Lastly, the story of Abram and Sarai in Egypt found in 1Q20 19–21 presents Abram as highly concerned over Sarai’s sexual purity when she is taken by Pharaoh. While Sarai’s lineage is not extant, the tradition of Sarai as Abram’s half-sister was well-known and would likely have only been emphasized in GenAp. Thus, when Sarai is taken from Abram, his prayer demonstrates that his worries and fears are not primarily for Sarai’s personal safety out of affection but are foremost that Pharaoh will defile his wife so as to make her “unclean for me” (1Q20 20:15). The deepest conflict in the story revolves around whether Sarai will be compromised as a suitable wife for Abram and mother of his line, extending the theme of the importance of marriage for the patriarchs. This story will be examined further in chapter 4. So GenAp finds itself squarely situated on the theme of endogamy and proper marriage to maintain pure lineage and demonstrate the righteousness of the patriarchs. Is GenAp unique in this emphasis? Is endogamy an equal concern across related Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls? The rest of this chapter will compare GenAp with an array of related texts in order to better locate this 70 endogamous emphasis within the culture of not only Aramaic texts, but even some of the most popular texts of the Second Temple period. 2.2 Endogamy in Aramaic Enoch The Genesis Apocryphon is in many ways closely related to Aramaic Enoch traditions. The Watcher’s myth and the startling birth of Noah are both stories found in Enochic literature. However, while Enochic literature does not have an equally significant emphasis on women as wives, mothers, and daughters (Coblentz Bautch 2009: 351), there are a number of motifs touching on marriage present in these texts. The Book of Watchers (1 En. 1–36) contains the Watchers myth with its central antimixed marriage motif but does not seem to otherwise emphasize the anti-intermarriage polemic. As noted in chapter 2, the Book of Watchers describes how the fallen angels “took for themselves wives from among them such as they chose. And they began to go in to them, and to defile themselves through them, and to teach them sorcery and charms, and to reveal to them the cutting of roots and plants” (1 En. 7:1). This illicit knowledge and the offspring of these human/divine unions are the main problem in 1 Enoch; mixed marriages are condemned through their negative consequences. The Enochic text known as the “Birth of Noah” (1 En. 106–107) opens with Enoch recounting his taking of a wife for his son Methuselah, and shortly thereafter notes that his grandson Lamech also takes a wife for himself (1 En. 106:1). No names or parentage details are provided for either of these wives, seeming to demonstrate a lower level of concern over proving endogamous marriage partners than seen in other Aramaic texts. Enoch’s second dream-vision (1 Enoch 85–90) contains a detailed history of the Jewish people in which animal imagery veils the characters and reveals significant characteristics. The 71 chosen line is represented by white bulls whose offspring are compromised or endangered by other species of animals. The only specific woman described is a calf representing Eve (1 En. 85:3–10). The color of this calf is not specified, only the color of her offspring: Cain as a black bull, Abel red, and Seth white (1 En. 85:8). The women of the Watchers myth – retold in the Animal Apocalypse – are depicted as black cows (1 En. 86:2), suggesting their sinful interactions with the Watchers from which they bear an assortment of wild animal offspring (86:4). The focus of the symbolism is twofold: the colors represent the character of the animals – sinful (black), righteous (white), or neutral (red) – while the species represents the lineage purity or impurity – cows (Israel) or wild animals (other peoples) (Frölich 1990: 630–32). Aside from Eve, no other specific women are described in the dream-vision, implying that while bearing pure offspring was important to the author, emphasizing endogamy was not a particular means toward that end.36 Aramaic Enoch traditions, while closely related in content and characters, differ significantly in the focus on endogamous marriage and the characterization of women. Coblentz Bautch (2009: 347) sees the few women of 1 Enoch serving as “ciphers for assorted values and concerns of the respective authors of Enochic literature,” but agrees that there is significantly less amplification of women than in other texts of the era (2009: 351). 2.3 Endogamy in the Aramaic Corpus at Qumran Interestingly, this dream-vision begins with Enoch’s statement, “Before I took your mother Edna (as my wife” (1 En. 85:3), which is a female name not provided in the Hebrew Bible. Considering the lack of emphasis on other wives, this inclusion is probably simply an incorporation of other known traditions about Enoch rather than an attempt to further an endogamous agenda, as GenAp does. 36 72 While GenAp clearly focuses on endogamous marriage more than the Enochic literature of the Second Temple period, it is not alone in this emphasis. Endogamy as a concentration – while present in Hebrew texts – is particularly prominent across the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls. One context in which endogamy is repeatedly emphasized is the pseudepigraphic narratives of Aramaic Levi Document (ALD), 37 the Words of Qahat (4Q542), and the Visions of Amram (4Q543–548). All three are Second Temple period texts with narratives revolving around sequential figures in the priestly Levite line: Levi, his son Qahat, and his son Amram, respectively. They contain testament-style monologues from father to son(s), ALD is likely older than the other two, with a compositional date around the 3rd century BCE (Greenfield, Stone, and Eshel 2004: 19); the paleography of Words of Qahat and Visions of Amram led Puech to date them around the 2nd century BCE, with Visions of Amram slightly older (Puech 2001: 285–89, 264). Of the three, only ALD is also attested outside Qumran, including in the Cairo Geniza (Drawnel 2004: 1–11). The Words of Qahat and the Visions of Amram are associated with ALD and each other due to their topical and structural similarities, though scholars are divided over the relation of these texts to each other. Milik first categorized them as a trilogy (1972: 77), a categorization that has been more recently considered problematic by Tervanotko (2014) and Perrin (forthcoming). Regardless of the relationships the authors intended between these texts, Drawnel and Loader consider all three as “belonging to priestly instructional tradition or wisdom” (Loader 2009: 323), for reasons expounded below. The Aramaic Levi Document, Words of Qahat, and Visions of Amram texts have several key factors in common. The texts are all: found in multiple copies at Qumran; pseudepigraphic 37 The text of ALD is fragmentary and pieced together from a number of Qumran fragments, including 1Q21, 4Q213, 4Q213a, 4Q213b, 4Q214, 4Q214a, and 4Q214b. 73 narratives relating to three generations of the priestly Levite family; handling the theme of marriage. A key component in maintaining the priestly lineage appears to be marriage within closely related family groups. In ALD, the patriarch Isaac explicitly instructs his grandson Levi to maintain his priestly line by marrying within the clan (ALD 6:4). Levi obeys, and the text specifies his marriage to his second-cousin Milkah (ALD 11:1), providing the woman’s name and parentage. In Words of Qahat, Levi’s son Qahat warns his sons to protect their inheritance “and be holy and pure from all intermingling” (4Q542 1 i 8–9). Lastly, Visions of Amram portrays Qahat’s son Amram giving his daughter Miriam in marriage to his brother Uzziel (4Q543 1 a–c 5–6). Amram also recounts that despite his decades-long separation from his wife Jochebed, “I [did not] take ano[ther] wife […] for I would return to Egypt safely and see my wife’s face…” (4Q544 1 8–9).38 The text of 4Q549 also relates details surrounding the marriage of Miriam and Uzziel and provides a fragmentary genealogy that appears to name each wife: “And fr[om the wedding feast of Uzziel were] ten [months.] And with Miriam he fathered a people… Then Hur rook [as a wife… daughter of…] and with her fathered Ur; and Aaro[n took as a wife Elizabeth and he fathered] four sons with her…” (4Q549 2 7–11). Puech argued that 4Q549 was part of Visions of Amram (2001: 399); Loader (2009: 326) and White Crawford (2003: 42) agree. Eisenman and Wise (1992: 152), Duke (2010: 41–2) and others reflect a more general consensus that the Amram’s statement of faithfulness to his proper wife immediately precedes his reception of a dream-vision (4Q544 1 9–10); while this order of events may be simply incidental, it could reflect that portraying a patriarch’s righteousness through his commitment to a proper marriage was a helpful way of explaining why he was chosen as a recipient of a dream-vision from God. Interestingly, Noah receives a vision from the “Lord of] Heaven” (1Q20 6:10–7:7) immediately after arranging endogamous marriages for his children. Texts containing first-person narratives of Noah (1Q20 6:10–7:7), Enoch (1 En. 85:3), and Amram (4Q544 1 8–10) all contain an immediate transition from discussion of a named wife to the introduction of a dream-vision. This is by no means a consistent trend across Aramaic dream-visions; even within GenAp, Abram’s dream-vision begins without any immediate reference to his wife Sarai before the dream (1Q20 19:14). 38 74 relationship between Visions of Amram and 4Q549 is uncertain at best.39 At the least, this fragment continues to demonstrate the growing number of texts that expand marriage details by means of including the women’s names and parentages. These texts follow the same trends that we have already noted in GenAp: a higher emphasis on endogamy, and a related higher reporting of the names and family identities of female characters. However, ALD specifically is worth probing deeper for its relationship to both GenAp and Jubilees around the theme of endogamous marriage. 2.2.1 Endogamy in the Aramaic Levi Document Though ALD depicts a different set of stories and characters than GenAp, these two texts share a number of significant features and themes.40 Most relevant to the discussion of women and endogamy is ALD’s use of names with endowed meaning and the development of Noah as a priestly figure, both of which are strategies related to the topic of proper marriage and the oftenrelated increase in female characterization. The use of names with significant meanings is by no means a new feature to ALD, GenAp, and Jubilees, but the authors of these texts all extend the practice, particularly regarding women. As previously noted, GenAp includes the names of Batenosh (“daughter of man”) and Emzara (“mother of human offspring”), both of which send clear messages about the significance of the character. The Aramaic Levi Document includes four births with 39 Duke (2010: 41–2) argues that the text may actually be resolving the conflict of who-married-Miriam by having her first married to Uzziel, widowed, and then married to Hur. He says this would also help resolve the question of why Hur’s genealogy is placed between Uzziel’s and Aaron’s at all. If this is the case, Duke postulates that this makes it unlikely for 4Q549 to be part of VisAmram because it would be including an exogamous marriage (to Hur). I [word missing here] this theory unconvincing as it would require a line stating something to the effect of Uzziel’s passing and the space on the fragment seems insufficient. 40 These themes are also reflected in Jubilees more broadly; see section 2.5. 75 accompanying meaningful names: Gershom (meaning “sojourners;” ALD 63), Merari (meaning “bitter;” ALD 69), Jochebed (meaning “glory;” ALD 71), and Amram (meaning “the exalted people;” ALD 76).41 For the present study, Jochebed’s name is particularly significant because she is a woman. Unlike many of the women in GenAp and related literature, Jochebed’s name does appear in the Torah narratives (Ex 6:20; Num 26:59). However, ALD expands the name’s significance by explaining its meaning. In contrast to older traditions where female names are scarce, ALD and GenAp both join the later traditions that employ meaningful names for women.42 Another significant parallel between ALD, GenAp, and Jubilees is the development of Noah as a priestly figure. While Noah is hardly depicted as priestly in Genesis or 1 Enoch (Peters 2008: 52), ALD 10:10 associates Noah with a priestly heritage in Levi’s statement: “For thus my father Abraham commanded me for thus he found in the writing of the book of Noah concerning the blood.” The text of ALD is by nature highly concerned with priestly themes; its very premise is the legitimization and passing of knowledge and responsibility from one generation of priests to the next, and ALD 10:10 links Noah as one of the oldest members of that generational chain (Peters 2008: 53). Peters (2008:52) writes: [The Aramaic Levi Document] adopted Noah as part of a continuous, unbroken line of priestly characters of which the visionary and wise Levi is the central one. While Noah appears only briefly in the Aramaic Levi Document as a priestly ancestor, a study of the character of Levi in the ALD is critical to understanding a particular kind of ‘priestly Noah’ who was also reformed and reshaped in the Aramaic and Hebrew compositions such as Jubilees, the Genesis Apocryphon, and the Festival Prayers. 41 I am grateful to Dr. Andrew Perrin for sharing his observations regarding the birth notices in ALD with me. Jubilees also uses meaningful names for its female characters. “The book of Jubilees conveys a great deal of information about the women it inserts into the narrative and/or about the consequence or outcome of the unions made with the women through the names given to these characters. Wives of patriarchs in the preferred family line are given names that convey positive sentiments… Wives of ignoble characters have names that communicate negative traits or set the reader up for an unfavorable outcome or generation” (Bautch 2009: 343). 42 76 The Aramaic Levi Document gives significant attention to the topic of priestly purity and responsibility, a concern that is tied both to the figure of Noah and to the practice of endogamy. GenAp – whose many parallels to ALD suggest familiarity (Eshel 2009: 98) – builds the image of Noah as an early priestly patriarch who demonstrates righteousness and purity by arranging endogamous marriages within his family. The purity of the lineage would in turn contribute to the ability for Noah – or any priestly descendant – to “accurately transmit knowledge of the proper practices of priesthood” (Peters 2008: 178). Both GenAp and ALD see endogamy as an essential practice for priests to transmit on to the next generations. After our brief overview of endogamy within the Aramaic pseudepigraphic texts of ALD, Words of Qahat, and Visions of Amram, GenAp appears thematically and stylistically similar to these texts, as much or more than to Enochic literature. While addressing different characters and eras within Israel’s history, this collection of pseudepigrapha intensifies the value for proper marriage and simultaneously expands the identity of women. However, ALD, Words of Qahat, and Visions of Amram, while showing an increased interest in the identity of the patriarch’s wives, do not match GenAp’s level of increased characterization, speech, and agency. On that front, the book of Tobit may be one of GenAp’s closest conversation partners yet. 2.4 Endogamy in Tobit The book of Tobit is a prominent text with a strong endogamous emphasis (Hieke 2005: 105). Found in five copies at Qumran, four of which are written in Aramaic (4Q196–99) and one Hebrew (4Q200), Tobit is the story of Jewish families in the Diaspora and “was intended to provide religious and moral instruction in the form of an adventure story” (Metzger 1957: 30). In the narrative, the adventure revolves around finding a proper wife. 77 Tobit shares a number of commonalities with GenAp that led Machiela and Perrin (2014) to see the two as part of a “family” within the Qumran Aramaic corpus.43 Most significantly for our discussion, Tobit bears similarities to GenAp in two important ways: in Tobit 4:12, Noah is named as an exemplar of endogamous marriage (Fitzmyer 2004: 147), and in 6:13 the commandment to marry within the family is cited as a divine mandate, as it is in 1Q20 6:8–9. These connections and others will be discussed below. Unlike ALD, Words of Qahat, and Visions of Amram, Tobit does not appear to have any tie to the priestly line, though he does reference his own devotion to offering tithes in Jerusalem (Tobit 1:5–8). As a non-priestly figure who still follows strict endogamy, the Tobit seems to expand the concern over marriage identities to all Jews. This expansion likely stems from the traditions of Ezra-Nehemiah meant to ensure cultural preservation in the Diaspora (Rothenbusch 2011, 77). In his first-person self-introduction, Tobit specifies that his wife is a “member of our own family” (Tobit 1:9), beginning the story with the clear value for endogamy that only deepens as the tale unfolds. A hefty portion of the plot revolves around Tobit’s son Tobias’ marriage to his kinswoman Sarah. In the story, the proper marriage becomes a matter of life and death: seven men have married Sarah before, but each one died the night of their wedding. What assurance does Tobias have that he will not meet the same fate? According to Raphael, the angel in disguise accompanying Tobias, no one has the right to marry Sarah before Tobias because he is the closest of her kin (4Q197 4 ii 4–5): “For Tobias was entitled to have her before all others who had desired to marry her” (3:17); “[Her father] can by no means keep her from you or promise her to another man without incurring the penalty of death according to the decree of the On the parallels between GenAp and Tobit: “Both works, when considered broadly, may be described in modern terms as learned, entertaining historical fictions that contain a strong moral message, foster national and religious identity, and serve as recontextualized readings of Israel’s Scriptures” (Machiela and Perrin 2014: 116). 43 78 book of Moses. Indeed he knows that you, rather than any other man, are entitled to marry his daughter” (6:13).44 Tobit specifically instructs his son to “marry a woman from among the descendants of your ancestors; do not marry a foreign woman, who is not of your father’s tribe; for we are descendants of the prophets” (4:12). Moore (1996: 168–69) notes the extremity of this commandment, as it not only forbids marriage outside the people of Israel but even outside his own tribe. This strict rule does not stem from the Torah, but does align with the close endogamous marriages in Second Temple texts like GenAp and Jubilees. Tobit supports his exhortation with a reference to their ancestors who are the apparent models of endogamous marriage: Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The use of Noah here is particularly intriguing. As noted in this chapter, Genesis does not specify any detail regarding Noah’s wife. Thus, Tobit’s use of Noah as an example of endogamy means that the authors behind the text must have been familiar with other traditions in which Noah’s wife is given a place in the family of Noah. These may include GenAp, Jubilees, or a possible shared tradition between the two. The lack of explanation in Tobit 4:12 suggests that the tradition of Noah’s marriage was so well known that no further explanation was necessary; the audience would have already known that Noah was indeed one of the ancestors who ascribed to the practice of endogamous marriage (Machiela and Perrin 2014: 123). The need for endogamous marriage is stated more dramatically in Tobit than any other text examined here. As the closest of her kin, Raphael tells Tobias that “[her father] can by no means keep her from you or promise her to another man without incurring the penalty of death 44 All text of the Apocrypha is taken from the NRSV (1989). 79 according to the decree of the book of Moses. Indeed he knows that you, rather than any other man, are entitled to marry his daughter” (Tobit 6:13). As in GenAp, this endogamous marriage ideal is described as “in accordance with the book of Moses” (4Q197 4 ii 6), though no such mandate actually exists in the Torah outside of a “by no means self-evident interpretation of Exod 34:11–16 and Deut 7:1–6” (Blenkinsopp 2009: 68). This inconsistency may reflect the views of some post-exilic and diasporic Jewish groups for whom the prohibition of intermarriage became an important way of defining a Jewish identity (Blenkinsopp 2009: 228–29). It is not clear whether the authors of works like Tobit or GenAp were aware of their contribution to this development or not: did these scribes realize that they were citing a non-existent command? Were they simply more familiar with traditions that associate Torah and endogamy (such as Ezra) than with the actual commands of the Torah? Or were they intentionally taking their own contemporary practices and pushing them back onto older tales and figures? Finally, Tobit matches GenAp’s development of female characters more than any of the other texts discussed in this chapter. Beyond naming the women in the story (Anna, Sarah, and Edna), each of these women are given roles, actions, personalities, and speech. Anna – Tobit’s wife and Tobias’ mother – is a feisty woman who not only earns the family’s income due to Tobit’s disability, but speaks harshly and boldly to him as well, with apparently little consequence. Sarah – daughter of Raguel and wife of Tobias – is a desperate and pious girl seeking the honor of her father through her own marriage. She is given a long prayer in which she would rather die than shame her father. Edna – Raguel’s wife and Sarah’s mother – is the least active woman in the story, and even so is mentioned multiple times as she fearfully prepares her daughter for her wedding night (7:16) and ultimately blesses Sarah and Tobias in their new marriage (10:12). 80 GenAp and Tobit are very different stories – one a biblical retelling and the other an apparently new narrative. Despite their different settings, the two texts are remarkably similar in a number of significant areas. They contain a simultaneous emphasis on endogamy and female characterization. They offer women’s names and narrative details. They demonstrate a growing understanding of endogamy as a scripturally mandated practice. And they are clearly aware of traditions surrounding a priestly and endogamous Noah figure, providing us with a greater understanding of the prominence of that tradition within the Aramaic literary culture of the Second Temple period. 2.5 Endogamy in Jubilees As noted in the previous chapters, Jubilees contains strong ties to GenAp, likely through shared sources (Eshel 2009: 97). Unlike ALD and Tobit, Jubilees shares many of the same characters and stories with GenAp; though told in different literary styles, the two texts “share a wealth of common lore and common biblical interpretation” (Kugel 2012: 305). However, the two texts are not identical, and their differences inform us of varied trajectories and traditions. In examining the case of Noah’s wife and female descendants, it is worth examining the content that is shared as well as that which is not. This will provide us with a better understanding of GenAp’s unique role and purpose in comparison to the often similar role and purpose of Jubilees. Dorothy Peters conducts a close comparison of GenAp and Jubilees’ portrayals of Noah. She observes that while the Noah of most Hebrew texts – including Jubilees – is a more downplayed precursor to Moses, “…when the language of the conversation changes to Aramaic, however, Noah is transfigured into a figure much more like Enoch, a visionary figure and a dreamer and one in whom God confides” (Peters 2008: 97). The author of GenAp creates a “super-righteous” Noah (Peters 2008: 117), one that diverges more significantly from Hebrew 81 traditions than Jubilees. This divergence is not surprising considering that Jubilees as a whole appears more concerned with its dependence on and careful reordering of Genesis, whereas GenAp much more freely draws on other sources, sometimes giving those other sources more weight than Genesis (Peters 2008: 126, 178). Despite their differences, Jubilees and GenAp hold a number of themes and traditions in common. Names such as Batenosh and Emzara are included in both texts; Jubilees includes even more female names than the extant text of GenAp, such as the names of Adam and Eve’s daughters (Jub. 4:8–9). In chapter 4 alone, Jubilees names ten different women, along with their parentage, demonstrating an equal or greater level of concern over intermarriage than GenAp. Jubilees’ polemic against intermarriage is also seen through its adaptations of stories such as the rape of Dinah where the author of Jubilees omits the arrangement between Jacob and the Shechemites entirely, and portrays Simeon and Levi as undisputed heroes (Coblentz Bautch 2009: 345).45 Jubilees also contains similar information about Noah’s descendants. Jubilees 7:14–16 names each of Ham, Shem, and Japheth’s wives (names which are not included in GenAp), after whom the sons each name cities. Jubilees also names all Noah’s grandsons (same names as in GenAp), but does not mention their daughters in name or number. VanderKam (1994: 461) sees GenAp’s specific numbers as demonstrating that GenAp was more specific to avoid intermarriage even between Shem and Japheth’s lines. GenAp and Jubilees differ in that while 45 Kelley Coblentz Bautch (2009) notes that Betsy Halpern-Amaru and C. Werman see Jubilees as having more of a problem of intermarriage with Canaanites specifically, as opposed to all non-Israelites. For example, Hagar is not presented as a problem. This seems due to the fact that Egyptians and other descendants of Ham are not cursed, while descendants of Canaan are (Jub. 7:10, 10:29–33). On this front, Loader argues that Jubilees is specifically more tolerant of Egyptians than other Gentiles at all (cf. Jub. 11:9) (Loader 2007: 192–3). 82 Jubilees provides the names of Shem, Ham, and Japheth’s wives, it does not provide their lineage. GenAp on the other hand does not provide their names but does specify that they are daughters of Noah’s brothers. This may demonstrate that Jubilees and GenAp likely shared a source but were not directly dependent one on the other. Furthermore, the author of GenAp appears more concerned over maintaining the purity of Shem’s line. While Jubilees is GenAp’s closest companion regarding the endogamous details surrounding Noah’s wife, daughters, and granddaughters, GenAp remains unique. 3. Conclusion This chapter has examined GenAp’s depiction of the women surrounding Noah: his wife Emzara, her daughters, and her granddaughters. Within GenAp, these women were present to serve a specific purpose: to demonstrate that Noah, as an early priestly patriarch, was a faithful promoter of endogamous marriage as a sign of his purity and righteousness. Other related literature found varying commonalities with GenAp. Enochic literature formed a basis for further Noah traditions; Aramaic pseudepigrapha similarly emphasized the importance of endogamous marriages in the priestly lineage. Tobit paralleled GenAp’s emphasis on both endogamy and increased female characterization. Jubilees included similar but slightly altered traditions regarding the women of the antediluvian marriages. The Genesis Apocryphon remains unparalleled in its combination of factors not found collectively in any of the other texts: retelling of Genesis tradition, inclusion of new female names, addition of women to genealogies, and attribution of speech and agency to female characters. With a solid understanding of GenAp’s unique regard for women and the importance 83 of marriage, the next chapter will culminate and conclude this thesis with the most exciting story and developed woman of the entire text. 84 Chapter 4: Rescue, Resistance, and Restitution: Sarai’s Reality in Genesis Apocryphon Genesis 12 tells a story that has come to be known as a “wife-sister” tale: Abram feels threatened in Egypt because of his wife Sarai’s beauty and the fear that the Egyptians will kill him in order to take her for themselves. To protect himself, he involves Sarai in a plan to call each other “brother” and “sister,” which works so well that Sarai is promptly taken to be Pharaoh’s wife. She is held there until God himself sends a plague that can only be remedied by returning the wife to her husband. Meanwhile Abram profits because of Sarai. The story begs a lot of questions for both ancient Israelite and modern readers: Was it right for Abram to lie about his wife? How could he have put her at such risk for his own safety? Did Pharaoh compromise Sarai’s “purity?” Was the covenant line – so meticulously protected thus far in GenAp – compromised? The feelings and experience of Sarai are perhaps most absent from many ancient commentaries and modern conversations. Throughout ancient Judaism and the Second Temple period, ancient Jewish writers retold the “wife-sister” story over and over. Even within Genesis itself there are three versions of the tale (Frolov 2011: 3)!46 These retellings expand on some details and downplay others, generally attempting to defend the character of Abram and answer questions around the motives and morals in the story (Niehoff 2004: 413–44).47 From the earliest retellings of this story, we see 46 Gen 12:10–20 and 20:1–18 follow Abram (Abraham) and Sarai (Sarah) as they journey in Egypt and Gerar, respectively. These two stories are clear parallels. Gen 26:1–16 is the third iteration, this time involving Isaac and Rebekah, and differing in that Rebekah is not actually taken by the ruler. All three stories involve journeying to a foreign land, presenting the wife as a sister to protect the husband, the land’s ruler taking or nearly taking the woman, and husband ultimately receiving wealth and favor from the ruler. On the developed use of these three stories, see Serge Frolov 2011: 3. Most scholars agree that Gen 12 is the oldest of the three Genesis versions of the wife-sister tale due to the folkloric pattern that it follows which suggests its development in an oral literary setting, see Gordon J. Wenham’s Genesis 1–15, 1987: 286. 47 Most receptions of the wife-sister story change details surrounding Abram’s lying scheme and his acquisition of wealth. Jubilees 13:11–15 omits Abram’s lie and the connection of Sarai’s trafficking with Abram’s wealth. Genesis Rabbah (40.5) makes Abram more protective of Sarai and downplays the connection of his wealth with her being taken by Pharaoh. Philo’s account (De Abraham) omits Abram’s lie and wealth and frames the whole story as God’s 85 that readers perceived Abraham’s actions as highly problematic and recognized Sarai’s plight. But rarely does Sarai figure more prominently or autonomously than in the original, silent tale.48 GenAp changes that trajectory. GenAp 19:10–21:4 gives us permission to join ancient attention to the problem in this story: that Abram would seem to care so little for his own wife. This chapter will examine how GenAp uniquely develops the figure of Sarai in its retelling of the wife-sister story. I will ask the questions: What additions does GenAp make to Sarai’s character? What does this tell us about their perspectives on women, sexuality, and the scribal role in interpretation? And can our conclusions about the scribes behind this text give us insight into the lives of actual women of their time? To answer these questions, I will walk through the unique and significant elements of Sarai’s figure as developed in GenAp, including her representation in a dream-vision, her resistance to Abram’s plan, her beauty, and her restitution. 1. Sarai’s Roles and Realities in Genesis Apocryphon The wife-sister story is the first content of the extant Abram stories in 1Q20. The story is told from the first-person perspective of Abram, following the trend of pseudepigraphy in the Aramaic corpus at Qumran (Stuckenbruck 2011: 295–326). GenAp’s retelling is based on a combination of both the Gen 12 and Gen 20 redactions of the wife-sister story.49 Genesis reward to Abram for his good conduct. Josephus includes the justification of the lie from Gen 20 (that Sarah is in fact his “sister” in a sense) and moves the gifts of wealth from Pharaoh to the end of the story, following Gen 20, which eliminates the trafficking element (A.J. 1.8.1). In contrast to all these, GenAp places greater emphasis on the lying scheme; the acquisition of wealth occurs mostly at the end of the story, though the text includes the phrase “she benefitted me” (1Q20 20:10) at the time of her being taken, which may allude to wealth of Gen 12. 48 Sarai is given some speech in Genesis Rabbah (41.2.4), which may have been influenced by GenAp or similar traditions (see footnote 8). 49 Gen 12 and 20 differ in a number of significant details, and GenAp includes elements of both. GenAp follows Gen 12 by: setting the story during a famine and in Egypt under Pharaoh (12:10); emphasizing Abram’s lying plan 86 Apocryphon includes four elements that promote a new view of Sarai through her own actions and the actions of God, Abram, Pharaoh, and other men: a prophetic dream, an active resistance, a sultry poem, and a personal recompense. Despite the frequency in which this story is retold among the Jewish scribal culture, these four elements are unique to GenAp and speak to a remarkable recognition of Sarai’s voice, plight, personhood, and importance. 1.1 Sarai as Appointed Rescuer and Dream Symbol The story in GenAp opens with Abram receiving a dream-vision that not-so-subtly explains what is going to happen and what he and Sarai should do. The dream involves two trees – a cedar and a date-palm – that are interconnected at their bases. When the cedar is threatened by people coming to “cut down” and “uproot” it (1Q20 19:15), the date palm speaks up in defense. “But the date-palm cried out and said, ‘Do not cut down the cedar, for the two of us are sp[rung] from o[ne] root!’ So the cedar was left on account of the date palm, and they did not cut me down” (1Q20 19:16–17). These words save both trees, and then Abram awakes from his dream. The authors of GenAp employ a dream-vision here to strategically address perceived exegetical issues and evolve the tradition in new ways. 50 First, the dream-vision serves to lend before their entrance into Egypt (12:11–13); expanding on the praises of Sarai by Pharaoh’s officials (12:15); and including the plagues God sends against Pharaoh (12:17). GenAp incorporates elements of the Gen 20 account, including: the elimination of any intercourse between Sarai and Abimelech (20:6); the use of the phrase, “This is the kindness you are to show to me: Wherever we go, say of me, ‘He is my brother’” (20:13); the presentation of wealth to Abraham after the return of Sarah (20:16); and Abraham’s prayer for Abimelech and his household (20:17). Many of the strategies employed by both Gen 20’s and GenAp’s retellings can be categorized as “anticipation” or “constructive harmonization” as coined by Moshe Bernstein (2013: 176) in his essay on exegetical features in “Rewritten Bible.” 50 Eshel (2009: 52) notes the connection – and potential influence – between GenAp and the Midrash of Genesis Rabbah; “Without the imagery from the Genesis Apocryphon we would wonder what prompted the Midrash to link the citation from Ps 92:13 with the plagues inflicted on Pharaoh.” Genesis Rabbah connects the plagues on Pharaoh on Sarai’s account with Ps 92:13, about a palm tree and a cedar. Without GenAp as context, this reference to Ps 92:13 in Genesis Rabbah would seem incredibly random. It seems GenAp develops traditions – whether “original” to GenAp or not – that become influential in Jewish literary, rabbinic, and scribal culture for centuries. 87 some divine support to Abram’s morally questionable scheme. Second, it expands on the Genesis mention of Abraham as a prophet (Gen 20:7). And third, it fills a Genesis gap left by Abraham’s allusion to a conversation with Sarah; Abraham reports to Abimelech, “I said to her, ‘This is the kindness you must do me: at every place to which we come, say of me, He is my brother’” (Gen 20:13),51 but readers are left wondering how and why that conversation happened.52 This dreamvision answers the readers’ question, and simultaneously increases the voice of Sarai in an even divine context. Dream-visions are well-attested among the Aramaic texts at Qumran; earlier in GenAp, when Noah has a dream-vision, he is also represented by a cedar (1Q20 14:9).53 The cedar is a common representation for the “righteous man” in biblical literature and the date palm appears associated with female imagery in Ps 92:12 and Song of Songs 7:9 (Bloch 1996: 14–15).54 While the imagery is not surprising here, the speech of the date-palm, representing Sarai, is remarkable. In the Genesis retellings, Sarai is passive at best; her only recorded action is to say “He is my brother,” though even those words reach us not by her own mouth but via the report of Pharaoh 51 All Bible texts are taken from the ESV. Moshe Bernstein sees this dream-vision as a “constructive harmonization” in the process of rewriting and reinterpreting biblical tales to fill in exegetical gaps. As such, he notes that “Abraham tells Abimelech in Gen. 20:13 that he had said to Sarah at the time of their initial wandering that ‘wherever we arrive, say that he is my brother.’ Yet nowhere in Genesis do we find such a general favor requested by Abraham” (2013: 189). Additionally, Lipscomb (2019: 326n23) notes some of the potential purposes of the dream-vision in GenAp as “…to foreshadow plot developments, as well as the desire to align Abram with fictional characters who dream in Jewish, Greek, and Latin traditions.” 53 Perrin (2015) expands on the motif of dream-visions in the Aramaic corpus at Qumran. 54 Eshel (2009: 41–61) points out that tree imagery is used to represent the righteous through many ancient Jewish texts (Ps 1:1–3, Jer 17:7–8, Prov 11:30). Bloch (1995: 13–17) explores the gendered associations with both the cedar and the date palm in antiquity. He notes that the Song of Songs (5:10–15) analogizes the male lover to a cedar, while the female lover is represented by a date palm (7:9). Bloch (1995: 15) responds to Fitzmyer’s connection of this imagery in Ps 92:12: “The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon” (ESV). Bloch notes that some kind of gender association must have presupposed the use of this imagery within GenAp, because “without such an association along gender lines, the attribution would have probably been the reverse, that is, Abram as the palm, Sarai as the cedar, in conformity with the conventional order” of Abram and Sarai, male and female, etc. The cedar and date palm appear to have held a known gender association prior to their interpretation in GenAp. 52 88 (Gen 20:5) and the command of Abraham (Gen 20:13). Abram is the more active and vocal character in Genesis, saying “She is my sister” in his own defense (12:19; 20:2). In a fascinating turn of events, the author of GenAp ignores Abram’s line and confers all speech in the dreamvision on the date-palm. Why did the writer give the verbal role to the date-palm? What was the motivation to make Sarai the more active rescuer in the story? The composers of GenAp emphasize Sarai’s active role as Abram’s savior to the extent of codifying it in a dream from God. Though GenAp has demonstrated a consistent trend to expand female characters, the purpose behind Sarai’s enlargement here is certainly to protect Abram’s character. Ancient and modern commentators alike have spilled much ink defending Abram’s questionable actions in this story, including the closely related book of Jubilees (13:11– 15). The problem was so pronounced that early reinterpretation resulted in two versions within Genesis itself (Gen 12 and 20)! Falk (2007: 80–81) sees the Gen 20 version as reflecting one of the “early retellings that became enshrined in Scripture.” The presence of a retelling within Genesis itself speaks to the prominence of the story and the need for it to be recast in light of the issues it presents for Abram’s character and Sarai’s risked purity. Divinely ordaining Sarai as spokesperson for them both may be the author’s way of addressing Abram’s rather inappropriate expectation of Sarai to lie for him. The dream places full responsibility on Sarai, thus distancing Abram from the deceptive deed. But the question of Abram’s role has been the concern for centuries; here we have the opportunity to consider how such a development could reflect on the developing figure of Sarai. The authors portray Sarai as the true heroine of the situation. In the dream-vision, the date-palm is eager and “cried out” to save the cedar (1Q20 19:16); there is no hint of coercion or manipulation from the cedar. Furthermore, the dream concludes, “So the cedar was left on 89 account of the date palm, and they did not cut me down” (1Q20 19:17); this affirms Sarai’s position as Abram’s rescuer, and echoes his coming explanation to her: “I will live under your protection, and my life will be spared because of you” (1Q20 19:20). This kind of language and power reversal feels wildly out of place in what is typically such a patriarchal setting, and Jewish commentators noticed. Genesis Rabbah compares Abram and Sarai of Gen 12 to Deborah and Barak of Judges 4, in which one rabbi confirms: “Two men had the main role but [humbled themselves and] treated themselves as subordinates, Abraham and Barak… Abraham held the principal role but treated himself as secondary” (Gen. Rab. 40.4.3). Sarai’s association with the judge Deborah affirms the perceived power differential, lifting Sarai to a level of authority that few biblical women ever achieve. But while her role seems on an upward trajectory, the story continues to make unexpected moves. 1.2 Sarai as Resisting Victim After Abram awakes from the dream-vision, he turns to his wife and, upon her request, relates what he has seen. “…and I said to [her], ‘… this dream… that they will seek to kill me, but to spare you. Therefore, this is the entire kind deed th[at you] must do for me: in all cities that [we will ent]er, s[a]y of me, “He is my brother.” I will live under your protection, and my life will be spared because of you’” (1Q20 19:12–20). A reader of GenAp might easily have expected Sarai to confidently and faithfully assume her rescuing role, but the story continues to surprise. What follows is an act of resistance that is totally unattested in any other retelling of the story. Sarai’s immediate response is to weep and beg Abram to change their plan to go to Egypt: “Then Sarai wept at my words that night. […] and the Pharaoh of Zo[an…] Sarai n[o longer wanted] to go to Zoan [with me…” (1Q20 21–23). The fragmentary nature of the text 90 makes it unclear whether Sarai is given direct speech here, but she is clearly given her own emotions, volition, and expression. She understands the danger that Abram’s/God’s plan will place her in, and she is afraid, upset, and does not want to go. Surprisingly, this understandably fearful reaction from Sarai is only found in GenAp. Sarai’s frightened reactions and emotions are entirely absent elsewhere in reception history. The retellings that do give Sarai some form of expression generally portray her as respecting her husband and heroically trusting God as, apparently, a noble woman should do. For example, Sarai’s connection to Deborah in Genesis Rabbah emphasizes Judges 4:9, which reads: “‘Certainly I will go with you,’ said Deborah. ‘But because of the course you are taking, the honor will not be yours…’” (40.4.3). While this alignment does build Sarai’s status as a woman with some authority, it also portrays her as simultaneously submitting to the will of the man. Deborah does not contribute to the image of a resistant and fearful Sarai. Many traditions, including Muslim Abraham traditions, portray Sarah as “without any hesitation or doubt in God” (Ben-Ari 2007, 542). GenAp diverges from all these traditions with its depiction of Sarai not only displaying emotion of any kind, but specifically her resistance to Abram’s (and God’s) plan.55 Despite Sarai’s fear and appeal, no mention is made of any reconsideration on Abram’s part. So not only does Sarai resist Abram’s initial arrangement, she also takes actions into her own hands to protect herself. Upon arriving in Egypt, GenAp states that she is “exceedingly [careful for five year]s lest any man attached to the Pharaoh of Zoan should see her” (1Q20 19:23). The scribes paint a picture of Sarai taking personal protective measures, such as covering 55 For further discussion of the expansion of female emotions in GenAp and other Second Temple literature, see chapter 2 section 2. 91 herself with a veil in public or perhaps staying within her own residence as much as possible. Again, no mention is made of responsive action on the part of Abram; he is not accounted as taking any precautions or protective measures for his wife.56 Instead, the retellers emphasize Sarai’s own actions, portraying a level of agency that far exceeds most other receptions of the tale. Why would the authors of GenAp portray Sarai as resisting the plan that is so prophetically revealed in Abram’s dream? Could they have meant to portray Abram as an authoritative figure who rules over his wife, despite her resistance? Or could they simply have understood that a woman in Sarai’s situation would, under normal circumstances, be afraid? Could they have intended to develop Sarai as a believable and human character, reacting like women they knew? The answers to these questions are speculative, but our tour through GenAp up until now provides a base from which to address them. In chapter 2, Batenosh exemplified GenAp’s trend to describe women’s emotions as well as portray their resistance. We have every reason to see Sarai through that same lens. But unlike Batenosh, Sarai’s story does not end with her vocal resistance. 1.3 Sarai as Object of Lust Despite Sarai’s actions to protect herself in Egypt, she is eventually spotted and her description is taken to Pharaoh. In Gen 12:15, this moment is summed up with the short phrase, “And when the princes of Pharaoh saw her, they praised her to Pharaoh…” (Gen 12:15). GenAp 56 Genesis Rabbah does credit Abram with some attempt to protect Sarai as he enters Egypt: it includes an entire scene in which Abram locks Sarai in a box and is willing to pay the toll collector an amount rather than show them the contents. Unfortunately, they demand that he open the box, and “…when he opened the box, the whole land of Egypt sparkled from the luster of Sarai” (Gen. Rab. 40.5.1). While it is respectable to see some level of caution on Abram’s part, this particular retelling brings Sarai closer to an object – boxed and sparkling – than any other! 92 expands this tiny phrase with extraordinary detail and craftsmanship, turning this tiny sentence in Genesis into an erotic scene. “Pharaoh’s officials” are turned into a character named Hyrcanos, apparent advisor and right-hand man to Pharaoh. In GenAp 19, Hyrcanos and other officials come see Abram and Sarai, having heard of Abram’s great wisdom and Sarai’s beauty (1Q20 19:25). The manuscript is damaged and missing as Abram begins to read to them from a Book of Enoch, and picks up again in the middle of Hyrcanos giving a poetic speech describing Sarai’s beauty to Pharaoh. The poem57 is a passionate description of Sarai’s physical beauty. Hyrcanos begins each phrase with ‫“( כמא‬How great!”), an interjection proclaiming greatness, as in 1Q20 20:2–4: “How irresistible and beautiful is the image of her face; how lovely h[er] foreh[ead, and] soft the hair of her head! How graceful are her eyes, and how precious her nose; every feature of her face is radiating beauty!” From here the description continues down her body, following a principle known as a capite ad calcem, or “from head to toe” (Popović 2007: 286).58 The poem also resembles an Arabic genre known as waṣf, typically associated with wedding celebrations (Goshen-Gottstein 1959: 46–8; VanderKam 1979: 57).59 In this sense and others, the poem is undeniably similar to the lover’s description of his bride in Song of Solomon 4. But the poem of GenAp differs from the Song of Solomon in its literary style.60 Popović (2007: 280) recognizes that while the Song of Solomon uses analogies and fantastically descriptive terms, the poem here is much less elaborate and “mainly uses the adjectives ‘beautiful’ or ‘perfect’ in its 57 VanderKam (1979: 57–66) makes a systematic case for the identification of this passage as a poem. He bases his definition of an ancient Jewish poem on the criteria of parallelism and meter (58), such as the repetition of ‫כמא‬ (“how great!”). 58 The structure of a capite ad calcem appears in physical descriptions in 4QZodiacal Physiognomy and 4QPhysiognomy ar; for a detailed explanation, see Popović 2007: 286–87. 59 For more uses of waṣf in biblical and non-biblical contexts, see Bernat 2004: 327–49. 60 For a detailed analysis of the rhythm, structure, and linguistic features of the poem, see Pereira (1997: 11–26). 93 descriptions.”61 But beyond the physical, Hyrcanos ends his speech by stating: “Yet with all this beauty, great wisdom is also with her…” (1Q20 20:7, translation mine). The attribution of wisdom to Sarai distinguishes GenAp’s poem from other descriptive love songs of the Near East that are generally only concerned with physical beauty (Cohen 2010: 10). Sarai’s wisdom signals a number of important implications. First, Hyrcanos’ speech – attesting to both Sarai’s physical beauty and her wisdom – appears to have been prompted by his visit to Abram and Sarai. The missing text thus likely contained at least a moment in which the officials catch a glimpse of Sarai’s beauty (Lipscomb 2019: 336) and are overcome by it.62 But more importantly considering the praise of her wisdom, the missing text may well include some speech or actions from Sarai that would merit this praise. While we can only speculate regarding the content of non-extant material, the possibility of an additional scene in which Sarai speaks and/or acts is consistent with and continues to extend the development of Sarai within GenAp. Second, the emphasis upon Sarai’s wisdom is consistent with a move in GenAp to align Sarai with “Lady Wisdom,” a female personification of wisdom that resembled a goddess is many ancient cultures (Lang 1986: 129). Proverbs 1–9 characterizes Wisdom as a woman worthy of the utmost respect and value. Similarly, the authors of GenAp make the parallel of Lady Wisdom and Sarai through a number of factors, one of which is the “incomparability” of her beauty (Lipscomb 2019: 321). Sarai is not only described as beautiful; she is incomparably beautiful, exceeding all other women, and her wisdom surpasses even her beauty. This praise This simplicity, along with the actual physical details described, cause Popovic to suggest that the poem’s main influence stems from Greco-Egyptian and Jewish papyri (2007: 280n12). 62 Westerman (1984: 366–7) sees this story as connected to the Watchers myth in Gen 6:1–4 with the themes of “they saw – they took” in regard to female beauty; he writes, “On both occasions the one who observes the beauty of a women is the one who has the power, and so the opportunity, to take as a wife whom his fancy chooses.” 61 94 parallels other praises of wisdom in Wis 7:9, 22–8:1, Sir 51:13–20 (11QPsa 21 11–17), and 4QBeatitudes. Philo also aligns Sarai with the embodiment of wisdom in Cher. 41–50, demonstrating the presence of a tradition around the association. Intriguingly, Prov 7:4 reads, “Say to wisdom, ‘You are my sister,’” making a fascinating parallel to Abram’s calling Sarai his sister. While the author may not have intended this parallel, the possibility itself speaks to a scribal culture aiming to draw connections and fill gaps in significant stories. 1.4 Sarai as Restored Survivor The final mention of Sarai in GenAp’s retelling is another striking departure from the other receptions of the wife-sister tale: Sarai herself is given reparations in the form of wealth from Pharaoh. In the oldest Genesis account, Abram is explicitly favored and made wealthy after Pharaoh takes Sarai. This is essentially trafficking of his wife for not just safety, but monetary gain; the reinterpretations of the story imply the ancient readers were also uncomfortable with that depiction.63 For example, in most receptions of the Gen 12 story, the subject of Abram’s wealth is delicately handled. Gen 20 moves Pharaoh’s generosity to the end of the story, given from Pharaoh to Abram as an assurance of Sarai’s purity (Gen 20:16), while Jubilees simply states that Abram was wealthy but does not indicate that the wealth was from Pharaoh (Jub. 13:14). Later, Philo’s retelling in Abr 89–98 does not mention money at all. GenAp’s treatment of the wealth from Pharaoh depicts Sarai not as an object to be returned, but as a fully-fledged character to whom reparations are due. After the Pharaoh gives Abram gifts to make up for accidentally taking his wife, the text reads, “The king gave her much [silver and g]old, and great quantities of linen and purple-dyed garments. […He put them] before Lipscomb (2019: 320) further explores the negative portrayal of Abram and Sarai in Gen 12 and “the many creative attempts in antiquity to relieve them of their infelicities.” 63 95 her, and before Hagar as well” (1Q20 20:31–32). GenAp treats Sarai as one who has been affected, not just Abram, and this move distinguishes GenAp from either of the Genesis accounts. The mention of Hagar is worth briefly noting. In all likelihood, the writers may have included Sarai’s gifts from Pharaoh for the sole purpose of anticipating Hagar (Bernstein 2013: 182).64 Hagar is first mentioned in Genesis 16:1 as an Egyptian slave belonging to Sarai. For scribes intending to clarify unexplained details, it is not hard to imagine how they might have pieced together Sarai’s acquisition of Hagar in Egypt (Fitzmyer 2004: 215). In fact, Genesis Rabbah bears witness to this same tradition, which reads, “Hagar was [the] daughter of Pharaoh. When he saw the wonderful deeds that were done for Sarah when she was in his house, he took his daughter and gave her to Sarai…” (Gen. Rab. 45.1.4).65 GenAp does not include any such lofty identity for Hagar, but it does bring her into the story sooner than Genesis.66 While Hagar’s character is not developed further in GenAp, her presence here is of interest in light of her Genesis story. Her story echoes many of the themes addressed in this chapter, such as voice (Gen 16:8, 13; 21:16), resistance (Gen 16:4, 6), and exploitation (Gen 16:3–6). Hagar herself is a remarkable female figure in Genesis; she is the only figure in the Bible to give God a name: ‫“( אל ראי‬God of seeing”) (Gen 16:13). For discussion of the reception history of Hagar, particularly through the lens of Hagar as a Black woman, see Junior (2019). Considering the continual focus on endogamous marriage throughout GenAp, it is reasonable to conclude that Hagar’s inclusion in the Egypt narrative could be meant to emphasize the illegitimacy of her later relationship with Abram. How the author of GenAp might have viewed Abram’s union with Hagar can only be speculated, but the tension between demonstrating Abram’s righteousness and his commitment to endogamous marriage creates a complicated situation for the interpreter. 65 Genesis Rabbah’s numerous connections to GenAp demonstrates that GenAp represented somewhat widely acknowledged interpretive traditions. Eshel (2009: 50–52) recognizes that GenAp provides previously unseen clues as to how certain midrashic traditions developed, suggesting influence of GenAp upon later midrash. For example, she points out that Genesis Rabbah connects the plagues on Pharaoh on Sarai’s account with Ps 92:13, about a palm tree and a cedar. This would otherwise seem incredibly random except that GenAp portrays Abraham’s dream in which Sarai is the palm and he is the cedar. 66 GenAp also mentions Lot’s wife sooner than her famous pillar of salt demise of Genesis 19. Notably, GenAp says that Lot “took a wife for himself from the daughters of Egy[p]t” (1Q20 20:34); nowhere in Genesis is Lot’s wife identified as Egyptian, and Jubilees does not mention her at all. For a text that has so decisively portrayed its men as marrying endogamously, GenAp’s specifically opposite distinction (that she is Egyptian) likely suggests a negative view of Lot’s wife and thus of Lot himself. Jubilees’ decidedly negative view of Lot (VanderKam 2018: 533–35) supports this possibility, but Jubilees’ lack of Lot’s wife already distinguishes it from GenAp on this point. Though the text is fragmentary at this point, it does not appear to name Lot’s wife, perhaps because her only importance to the story is that she is the wrong kind of marriage partner. 64 96 Though Sarai’s personal restitution may be a literary tool more than anything, this added detail does speak to Sarai’s autonomy and the harm done to her personally. Could the scribes of GenAp have wanted to emphasize her individuality as a separate entity from Abram? However, we might imagine the minds of the authors, the addition of Sarai’s reparation suggests that they did not see her as simply a subsumed part of Abram’s household or an object handed back to him. The gifts to Sarai demonstrate not only that the authors were increasingly aware of Sarai as an individual, but that they could imagine even a Pharaoh having this awareness as well. 2. Conclusion The account of Abram and Sarai’s journey to Egypt in the Genesis Apocryphon is a remarkable and early reception of the Genesis version. The scribes notice, develop, expand, and even exalt Sarai from a silent object passed between two men to an active, vocal, and wise woman whose exploitation is acknowledged. Humphreys notes that when Sarai’s voice is heard in later Genesis stories (Gen 16:4–6; 18:9–15; 21), she is often at odds with other characters such as Hagar, Abraham, or even God himself. Perhaps the authors of GenAp – and other ancient readers – read Sarai’s character in Genesis as a strong-willed, outspoken woman. Could it be that they set out to emphasize those characteristics in their retelling here? As the final woman in my exploration of GenAp, Sarai encapsulates significant characteristics: she is present, named, verbal, active, and autonomous, a far cry from her portrayal in this same story’s Genesis version. We have seen that GenAp consistently expands women above and beyond its Genesis counterpart. But only one of these texts became Scripture for the centuries to come. In my conclusion, I will express why the women of GenAp – from the 97 women of the Watchers through to Sarai – may be crucial voices not just for the ancient readers, but for us today. 98 Conclusion I have placed the women of the Genesis Apocryphon at the center of my research and analysis in this thesis. Their presence and voices have exposed their invisibility and silence in the traditional Genesis narratives. And beyond simply exposing silence, this thesis has demonstrated the growing value for women’s roles, realities, and voices. There is far more to gain from the Genesis Apocryphon than additional knowledge for a library shelf. In this conclusion, I will demonstrate the tremendous relevance and necessity of these ancient voices to speak into our world today. I will summarize the essential points in each chapter, consider preliminary answers to questions about the women of GenAp, and suggest avenues for continued research. Most importantly, I will conclude by outlining the implications and outcomes of this work for the world of academic biblical studies, for the modern western Christian church,67 and for myself as a feminist, a scholar, a Christian, and a woman. 1. Summary of Research Each narrative within GenAp has offered us new angles and perspectives with which to see and hear the women of the text. I will revisit each story to bring forward the most relevant aspect of each character for women and Christians today. Much has changed for women in the world over the past two thousand years, but these ancient female stories still bear remarkable resemblances to the stories of today’s women. For the purposes of this thesis, my references to “the church” are aimed at the 21 st century Christian culture within primarily North America, or to any person or community that adheres to the Bible in any of its multiple modern forms. 67 99 1.1 The Women of the Watchers Myth The story of the Watchers was an important and much-retold story in the Second Temple period. It provided an understanding around the origin of evil and violence on the earth as originating from fallen angels who intermingled sex and knowledge with a world that was powerless to resist them (Falk, 2007: 44–45). This is a very different way of viewing sin than the Christian approach in which humanity’s intentional rebellion in Eden is the cause.68 The dominant interpretation of evil and sin has implicated humanity as primarily at fault, but the Watchers myth tells a different story. The women represent humanity in both the Eden story and the Watchers myth. In the former, the women/humans rebel freely and consciously against God and suffer their deserved consequences. In the latter, the women/humans are literally assaulted with violence and knowledge of evil. The parallels of these two voices to modern understandings of rape is striking: just as victims of sexual assault commonly struggle with feelings of selfblame, could it be that humans have long been taking the blame for the world’s evil? In light of the alternative etiology of evil in the Watchers myth, could the Fall narrative of Genesis 3 be interpreted as textual gaslighting of victims of evil? The women of the Watchers myth open up an alternate interpretation of humanity’s relationship with evil. The discussion of women in the Watchers myth involved analyzing women’s role in bringing about their own exploitation. The Watchers traditions associated make-up and feminine adornment with evil and sexual temptation. Rather than focusing condemnation on those who Anderson (2009) explores the history of the development of “sin,” particularly its evolution from weight to debt throughout Jewish and Christian texts. He sees the Dead Sea Scrolls as witnesses to the transition between these two ideas (2009: ix). He notes that the meaning and role of concepts of sin “are not univocal over the course of the tradition’s development” (2009: x). Anderson’s study addresses the conceptions and metaphors of sin over time, but does not focus on the development of interpretations of sin’s origin and cause. A similar plurivocality could be reflected in the Watcher’s myth, suggesting more than one way of understanding sin’s entry into the world. 68 100 take advantage of the women, this retelling could sees the women as culpable for having “led the holy ones astray” (1 En. 8:1). This attitude occurs again in the Sarai narrative of GenAp, where Sarai’s beauty is simply too enticing for all the men involved. No message of masculine selfcontrol or responsibility is presented; instead Sarai covers her own body for years to avoid catching the eye of a man. This kind of blame-shifting is still rampant today. Rape victims still find themselves questioned about their attire or attitude. A 2020 art exhibit called “What Were You Wearing?” displayed the outfits of rape survivors as “part of a global effort that seeks to dispel the myth that clothing choice is a cause of sexual violence” (Bundy Museum 2020). Acknowledging the inappropriate actions of men toward women in these ancient texts can help unveil the history of mistreatment. Retelling the stories to emphasize the women’s victimization is a step toward a new future. 1.2 Batenosh Batenosh’s passionate speech against Lamech’s accusation is a profound example of women’s resistance. Though we recognize that many women’s resistances are still futile against their oppressors (chapter 2 section 2.1.2), the depiction itself is deeply significant. To the ancient readers of these texts, Batenosh’s story demonstrated that resistance was worth expressing. In the case of Sarai’s opposition to Abram’s divine dream-vision, even resistance against divine will was accepted and portrayed. When Batenosh speaks for herself, she reminds us of the many women of Second Temple literature who spoke up and against authority: Esther, Susanna, Judith, Anna, Aseneth, and more. In a modern Christian culture where the Bible has been used to emphasize women’s submission for centuries (Eph 5:22), these women call us to reconsider women’s role and to celebrate women’s autonomy. 1.3 Emzara 101 The inclusion of Emzara’s name, as well as the references to her daughters, daughters-inlaw, and granddaughters in GenAp, exposes the female-less genealogies of Genesis. Their absence in Genesis indicates their irrelevance to biblical authors. Today, as millions read the Bible as a single source of divine revelation, the irrelevance of women is more than an ancient observation. Section 3 will further examine the effects of women’s invisibility in Genesis, but here we note that Emzara – with nothing given her except a name – still advances the message that women matter enough to mention. 1.4 Sarai Sarai’s episode in GenAp contains an expansion of her role, resistance, objectification, and reparation. The addition of Pharaoh’s payment to Sarai after her trafficking experience may speak to the development of ideas regarding sexual assault or exploitation. Whether intended by the authors or not, the restitution is a step toward seeing the offense as primarily against the woman herself, rather than against her father or husband. GenAp’s acknowledgment of Sarai’s personal harm through Pharaoh’s payment marks progress toward the goal of full respect of women. 2. Women of GenAp: Endogamy and Female Expansion Each of GenAp’s women open up dialogue around deeply significant issues for both ancient and modern women. I will draw further implications, impacts, and conclusions in section 3. But first, we must return to the people who penned these words on parchment. I began my thesis by asking how and why the scribes expanded women in GenAp, and now we can begin to answer that question. 102 2.1 Scribal Purpose Why did the scribes expand the voices of women? As much as I may find feminist angles and outcomes from studying GenAp, this was not the intention behind its composers. They were not ancient feminists. As seen throughout the thesis, the writers of GenAp used women to emphasize endogamy, which in turn ensured the righteousness of the patriarch. Their use of women to narrate endogamous marriages also served to depict endogamy as tradition for Jews of the Second Temple era. GenAp is not alone in this agenda; endogamy is painted across the Aramaic corpus at Qumran, through texts like the Aramaic Levi Document, Visions of Amram, and Tobit. And even outside the Aramaic Qumran context, the expansion of women toward a patriarchal goal was common. For example, Philo’s historical writings are famously misogynistic, yet they also develop female characters (Niehoff 2004: 444). The authors of GenAp and these other texts would not likely claim endogamous marriage as a primary theme. However, when examined through the lens I have used in this thesis, we see that the writers accomplished this goal through female expansion. Aside from emphasizing endogamy and promoting the patriarchs, GenAp contributes to our growing understanding of scribal culture in the Second Temple period. GenAp is a retelling and reinterpretation of Genesis (see Introduction, section 1.1). As such, it provides us with important insight into some of the earliest receptions of scriptural texts. Perrin (2015: 157) understands many of these Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls as functioning “parascripturally insofar as they aim to enhance, explain, and extend their underlying authoritative sources.” These texts, as discussed in chapter 4, were formed by a process that filled exegetical gaps and missing details from older traditions in response to the needs of the time (Zahn 2012: 16). We have seen that the 103 authors of GenAp drew on many sources in their retellings, apparently welcoming adaptations and reinterpretations of Genesis (Crawford 2008: 126–7). GenAp’s women’s voices are a far cry from truly representing women of the time. They are still the choices of male authors in patriarchal settings serving patriarchal purposes. But even so, their very presence is a step away from silence and invisibility. This may be the closest to women’s voices in biblical stories that we will ever come; unequal distribution of education, resources, and opportunity has resulted in close to nonexistent literary works of women themselves. So while the authors were still patriarchal in purpose, their writings provide a valuable conversation partner with the even more silent text of Genesis. 2.2 Areas for Future Research This thesis has broadly examined all the women in GenAp, focusing on their voices and the scribal processes that enabled them. As such, this study has opened up numerous possibilities for further investigation. Future research should explore intersectional approaches to GenAp and related literature. My current study – limited by time and scope – has only considered the voices of “women” broadly. Other factors – particularly that of race or ethnicity – could prove equally beneficial and insightful. For example, the presence of two Egyptian women – Hagar and Lot’s wife – near the end of the scroll invites further conversation around the scribes’ conceptions of race in relation to religious, cultural, and national identity. The Genesis Apocryphon could also contribute to the growing discussion around the roles of parascriptural texts and traditions. White Crawford (2008: 14) holds that GenAp’s 104 embellishment and composition in Aramaic eliminates any claim to authority. Whether or not GenAp held any authoritative status, what role did have amongst its readers? Finally, the field of feminist studies is only just beginning to make significant inroads into biblical and textual studies. Building off Hellenistic elements noted in this thesis – scientific and literary – further studies could examine the influence of Hellenism on Jewish perceptions of women. And of course, much work is yet to be done to recover the true voices of ancient women, not just their representation by male authors (Tervanotko 2019: 192–93). As Peggy Day (2006: 5) writes, “Israelite women did exist in Israelite culture, and if we take that fact as our point of departure rather than grant the text the authority to speak on women’s behalf, then we have every reason to try to ascertain, from a female’s perspective, the realities of female existence” (emphasis original). The reality of female existence – ancient and present – has been the motivation for the entirety of this project. It is thus fitting that I conclude by recommending how I believe this research can and should make an impact for women today. 3. Voice: Retelling Foundational Stories and Rewriting the Future My goal has been not only to contribute to the growing literature within feminist biblical studies but to amplify voices that will lead to active and real empowerment of women. This thesis is not meant to be simply an analysis of feminist ideas but part of the feminist praxis that is central to feminism itself. In this final section I will explain how this research advances and challenges the realm of biblical studies and finish by looking forward to how the voices of ancient women may call the church into a better future. 3.1 Voices of Academia 105 This thesis is a contribution to a long-standing gap in academic biblical studies: research about women and research by women. Recent decades have seen phenomenal increase in both these sectors, as discussed in the introduction’s section 2. Even so, the gap remains. Bibliographies dominated by men still send implicit messages about who belongs in this domain and who does not.69 Though small, this thesis will add weight to scales of representation long unbalanced. But beyond being authored by a woman, my thesis aids feminist goals in academic pursuits by promoting accessibility. This research is not meant for an elite few and I have worked to write in a way that encourages participation from anyone with interest. I hope that my efforts toward accessibility can be a voice of challenge and encouragement to the scholarly community, pushing for greater levels of awareness and desire for engagement. Our work means very little if it does not have relevance to those outside our disciplines and sub-disciplines. And our relevant work is useless if it is not easily understood, presented, and available. Within the realm of biblical studies specifically, I recognize the responsibility of biblical scholars to provide real knowledge to lay readers of the Bible. There is a wealth of valuable information about the Bible hidden by lofty language and locked behind paywalls with exorbitant prices. This knowledge, as I will demonstrate below, has the potential to radically shift a common Christian understanding of the Bible, which in turn could change individual lives and the collective culture. Those in positions of power in academic biblical studies today may find themselves resembling the clergy of history who withheld text of the Bible from their parishioners, leading to mass misunderstanding and misinterpretation of the Bible’s messages. 69 I am deeply grateful to my supervisor, Dr. Andrew B. Perrin, for valuing my voice, in many ways before I did. His support of my topic and of me personally has been both an excellent example of using one’s own voice and power to amplify the voices of others and a constant encouragement to me. 106 With knowledge comes power, and we thus have a responsibility to decentralize and distribute that knowledge and power. I believe my thesis – and my future efforts to share its content further – will contribute to that movement. 3.2 Voices of Women in the Bible, Church, and World Within much of Christianity today, the Bible is treated as the sole, authoritative voice, and it is weaponized against women. I heard 1 Timothy quoted to me with a laugh by a male friend as he justified not standing up for me to a sexist professor. I was told by Bible study leaders that contemplating a woman’s experience in a biblical story can be an interesting mental exercise but is clearly not relevant to the meaning of the passage or it would have been included in the text. I am one of the many who grew up with role models who were largely passive, silent wives, but I didn’t even notice. It did not occur to me – and was not pointed out to me – that Sarai is given no voice or emotion in the story of her own trafficking. I did not ask where Noah’s mother or wife or daughters were. In my subconscious, these women were somewhere between quiet – not much to say – and irrelevant – nothing important to say. GenAp changed that perception, opening my eyes to see women I cannot unsee, to hear voices I will never unhear. This is where biblical studies is needed in the real world. The recovering or acknowledging of women’s voices is an issue that being addressed globally, and texts like GenAp are the #MeToo moment in a Bible-dominant culture. These voices reveal a level patriarchal silencing in the Bible that most readers of the Bible refuse to believe. Perhaps these stories can change the tide by helping adherents to the Bible recognize the complex history of the texts, as well as the staggeringly silent portrayal of women in those pages. 107 How might our understanding and approach to Genesis have looked different if GenAp had been part of the conversation all along? GenAp – along with other texts surrounding the Bible – opens up a conversation around the reality of the Bible’s formation, the understanding that Genesis was not a complete unit (Humphreys 1998: 491), and the recognition that there are voices missing from our sacred texts. Familiarity with texts like GenAp would help Christians understand the scribal culture in which the Bible grew and developed, making room for openness toward new directions. As Rachel Held Evans (2018: 24) expressed, “While Christians tend to turn to Scripture to end a conversation, Jews turn to Scripture to start a conversation.” GenAp starts a conversation, asking us to speak up and engage with the unquestioned voice of Genesis. I am grateful to live in a time where I can finally acknowledge that the Bible often does not represent me, but where, in a strange reversal, I can re-present the Bible. Women may only speak for 1% of scripture (Freeman 2014: 9), but there are other voices crying out to be heard. 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