Zvi B E History Literature and Theology in The Book of Chronicles PDF

HISTORY, LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY IN THE
BOOK OF CHRONICLES
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HISTORY, LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY IN THE
BOOK OF CHRONICLES
EHUD BEN ZVI

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Ben Zvi, Ehud, 1951-
History, literature, and theology in the book of Chronicles / Ehud Ben Zvi.
p. cm. -- (BibleWorld)
Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index.
ISBN 1-84553-070-5 (hb) -- ISBN 1-84553-071-3 (pb) 1. Bible. O.T.
Chronicles--Criticism, interpretation, etc. I. Title.
II. Bible world (London, England)
BS1345.52.B46 2005
222'.606--dc22
2005017566
ISBN-10 1 84553 070 5 (hardback)

ISBN-10 1 84553 071 3 (paperback)
ISBN-13 978 1 84553 070 9 (hardback)
ISBN-13 978 1 84553 071 6 (paperback)
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To my grandchildren,
may their lives, which just start, be a blessing
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments ix
Abbreviations x
Part I
INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS
Chapter 1
INTRODUCTION 2
Chapter 2
THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES: ANOTHER LOOK 20
Part II
CHRONICLES AND THE REREADING AND WRITING
OF A DIDACTIC, SOCIALIZING HISTORY
Chapter 3
OBSERVATIONS ON ANCIENT MODES OF READING OF CHRONICLES
AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS, WITH AN ILLUSTRATION OF THEIR
EXPLANATORY POWER FOR THE STUDY OF THE ACCOUNT OF
AMAZIAH (2 CHRONICLES 25) 44
Chapter 4
SHIFTING THE GAZE: HISTORIOGRAPHIC CONSTRAINTS
IN CHRONICLES AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS 78
Chapter 5
THE CHRONICLER AS A HISTORIAN: BUILDING TEXTS 100
Chapter 6
THE SECESSION OF THE NORTHERN KINGDOM IN CHRONICLES:
ACCEPTED ‘FACTS’ AND NEW MEANINGS 117
viii History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles
Chapter 7
ABOUT TIME: OBSERVATIONS ABOUT THE CONSTRUCTION
OF TIME IN THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES 144
Part III
CHRONICLES AND THEOLOGY AS COMMUNICATED AND RECREATED
THROUGH THE REREADING OF A HISTORIOGRAPHICAL, LITERARY WRITING
Chapter 8
A SENSE OF PROPORTION: AN ASPECT OF THE THEOLOGY
OF THE CHRONICLER 160
Chapter 9 (Co-authored with A. Labahn)

OBSERVATIONS ON WOMEN IN THE GENEALOGIES
OF 1 CHRONICLES 1–9 174
Chapter 10
IDEOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTIONS OF NON-YEHUDITE/PERIPHERAL
ISRAEL IN ACHAEMENID YEHUD: THE CASE OF THE BOOK OF
CHRONICLES 195
Chapter 11
A GATEWAY TO THE CHRONICLER’S TEACHING:
THE ACCOUNT OF THE REIGN OF AHAZ IN 2 CHRONICLES 28.1-27 210
Chapter 12
THE AUTHORITY OF 1–2 CHRONICLES IN THE
LATE SECOND TEMPLE PERIOD 243
Part IV
CHRONICLES AND LITERATURE:
LITERARY CHARACTERIZATIONS THAT CONVEY THEOLOGICAL
WORLDVIEWS AND SHAPE STORIES ABOUT THE PAST
Chapter 13
WHEN A FOREIGN MONARCH SPEAKS 270
Bibliography 289
Index of Biblical Works Cited 303
Index of Authors and Individuals Cited 313
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Previous versions of these chapters were presented orally at different

professional meetings. I would like to thank my colleagues in the Chroni-
cles, Ezra–Nehemiah Section of the Society of Biblical Literature, the
Canadian Society of Biblical Studies, the European Seminar of Historical
Methodology, and the Pacific Northwest Society of Biblical Literature for
their feedback and encouragement.
I am indebted to my former students in my seminars on Chronicles for
inspiring me, keeping me on my toes, asking questions and raising issue. In
particular I am thankful to Ken Ristau and Tim Langille who helped me at
different stages of the preparation of the volume or some of its individual
chapters.
The University of Alberta provided me with an HFASSR grant that
helped me prepare this manuscript. The dedication of the staff at
interlibrary loan at the University of Alberta this work would have been
impossible. My departmental office has also been very helpful.
T&T Clark International, and the journals Biblica, Studies in Religion,
Horizons in Biblical Theology and The Scandinavian Journal for the Study
of the Old Testament have kindly allowed me to republish articles and
chapters in this volume. I have expressed my thanks to them at the begin-
ning of each relevant contribution, but I would like to convey my thanks to
them all here too.
My thanks are also due to Janet Joyce for accepting this volume for
publication, and how can I state my deep gratitude to Philip Davies, whose
editorial hand and thoughtful advice guided me in the process of
conceptualizing and preparing this manuscript and other works as well?
Finally, most of all, I am indebted to my wife Perla Mónica, for her love
and constant support sustain me.
ABBREVIATIONS
AB Anchor Bible
ABRL Anchor Bible Reference Library
AOTC Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries
BA Biblical Archaeologist
BAR British Archaeological Reports
BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research
BBR Bulletin for Biblical Research
BEATAJ Beiträge zur Erforschung des Alten Testaments und des antiken
Judentums
BETL Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium
BHS Biblia hebraica stuttgartensia
Bib Biblica
BibInt Biblical Interpretation: A Journal of Contemporary Approaches
BJS Brown Judaic Studies
BLS Bible and Literature Series
BTB Biblical Theology Bulletin
BWANT Beiträge zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament
BZAW Beihefte zur ZAW
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CEJL Commentaries on Early Jewish Literature
DBHE L. Alonso Schökel, et al., Diccionario bíblico hebreo-español
(Madrid: Trotta, 1988)
DJD Discoveries in the Judaean Desert
EI Eretz-Israel
ESHM European Seminar in Historical Methodology
FAT Forschungen zum Alten Testament
FOTL The Forms of the Old Testament Literature
FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments
FTS Freiburger theologische Studien
HALOT L. Koehler, W. Baumgartner and J.J. Stamm, The Hebrew and
Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (trans. and ed. under the
supervision of M.E.J. Richardson; 4 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1994–1999)
HAT Handbuch zum Alten Testament
HDR Harvard Dissertations in Religion
HSM Harvard Semitic Monographs
HSS Harvard Semitic Studies
Abbreviations xi
HTR Harvard Theological Review

JANESCU Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JHS Journal of Hellenic Studies
JSOT Journal for the Study of the Old Testament
JSOTSup Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, Supplement Series
JSP Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha
JSTJ Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism
JTS Journal of Theological Studies
LCL Loeb Classical Library
LHBOTS Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies (former, JSOTSup)
LTQ Lexington Theological Quarterly
LUÅ Lunds universitets årsskrift
NCBC New Century Bible Commentary
NEAEHL The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy
Land (ed. E. Stern; 4 vols; Jerusalem: The Israel Exploration
Society & Carta, 1993)
OTL Old Testament Library
OtSt Oudtestamentische Studiën
PMAPA Philological monographs of the American Philological Association
RB Revue Biblique
SBLDS SBL Dissertation Series
SBLSP SBL Seminar Papers
SBLSymS SBL Symposium Series
SBT Studies in Biblical Theology
SJOT Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament
SR Studies in Religion/Sciences religieuses
SSN Studia Semitica Neerlandica
STR Studies in Theology and Religion
SVT Studia in Veteris Testamenti
TA Tel Aviv
TLOT Theological Lexicon of the Old Testament (ed. E. Jenni, with
assistance from C. Westermann; trans. M.E. Biddle; 3 vols;
Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1997).
TPT Theologico-Political-Treatise
TynB Tyndale Bulletin
VT Vetus Testamentum
VTSup Vetus Testamentum, Supplements
WBC Word Biblical Commentary
WTJ Westminster Theological Journal
WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen
Testament
ZAW Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
Part I
INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS
Chapter 1
INTRODUCTION
This is a collection of twelve studies, ten of which were published in the

last fifteen years in a variety of journals, Festschriften and other works.
Chapters 3 and 10 are published here for the first time, and Chapter 9 was
co-authored by Antje Labahan and me. These studies are published
together, because their cumulative weight leads, among others, to a new
understanding of the Book of Chronicles, its balanced and nuanced theol-
ogy – for the present purposes, there is no difference between ‘theology’
and ‘ideology’, historiographical approach and of the way in which the
book serves to reshape the social memory of its intended and primary
rereaderships, in accordance with its own multiple viewpoints and the
knowledge of the past held by its community. (Ancient readerships in
ancient Israel were rereaderships; the latter term will be used occasionally
to stress that the relevant books were not read, but mainly reread, time and
again.)
The book is organized around four parts: (a) Introductory Essays,
(b) Chronicles and the Rereading and Writing of a Didactic, Socializing
History, (c) Chronicles and Theology as Communicated and Recreated
through the Rereading of a Historiographical, Literary Writing and (d)
Chronicles and Literature: Literary Characterizations that Convey Theo-
logical Worldviews and Shape Stories about the Past. The first part
includes this chapter as well as one in which several of the positions
elaborated in this volume are brought forward and summarized. The
second part explores what I would call the historiography of the implied
author of the book of Chronicles as constructed by the intended and
primary rereaderships of the book. In which ways is the past constructed
in this didactic work? In which ways do the readers of the book socialize
themselves by reading the book or reading it to others. To be sure, the
point of the didactic exercise is not only to construct a past, but to con-
struct a past for the purpose of communicating ‘proper’ theological posi-
tions. So the ‘historian’ is also a ‘theologian’. Conversely, the ‘theologian’ is
1. Introduction 3
a ‘historian’, since much of this theology is formulated and communicated

through the construction of images of the past. As result, the boundaries
between the material discussed in Part II and Part III are quite artificial
and certainly porous. Essays in Part III focus more, however, on theology
as communicated and recreated through the reading and rereading of
Chronicles than on questions of historiographical writing. Similarly,
Chronicles is a historical narrative. It is a history, but as any history it is
also a literary piece, even if subject to particular genre requirements (e.g.,
to be coherent with the images or social memory/ies agreed upon or at
least acceptable within the discourses of the communities within which
and for which the relevant historical book was written). Thus the bounda-
ries of the last section are certainly as arbitrary and porous as those of the
first two. The main difference is that some often called literary-critical
questions are more salient here than in the other sections.
These studies represent my work on Chronicles through a considerable
time span. Of course, my mind kept considering matters, and probing new
ideas and directions, so there is a sense of progress (hopefully, not of
regress) from the earlier to the later contributions. Thus, for instance,
ideas first adumbrated in some earlier contributions are fully developed in
later ones, and then, at an even later stage, their implications or the larger
context in which they play a role become clear. Similarly, some positions
taken as accepted knowledge in earlier essays are strongly questioned or
rejected in later ones. This said, when taken as a whole, the reader of this
volume will note that although each of these studies explores a particular
topic or pericope their conclusions or implications on several crucial
topics tend to converge time and again. Among these topics, one may
mention the call for a thorough re-evaluation of the theology of the Book
of Chronicles and the understanding of (hi)story that the book advances.
This collection as a whole contributes also to the advancement of better
understanding of the self-perception of the (hi)storian that it reflects, the
world of knowledge of its readership, and accepted views about borders,
among Israel and ‘the other’, or men and women, and their partial per-
meability. Thus, this collection provides an important window for the
examination of the intellectual history and milieu of late Achaemenid
Yehud and Jerusalem. It contributes also to a better understanding of the
concept of the reception and mode of reading of (hi)storiographical works
that existed within that milieu. For instance, Chapter 3 shows that the
primary readerships of the book were asked to, and most likely did approach
some passages in Chronicles (and other [hi]storiographical works) from
perspectives other than collecting information so as to recreate a fully
4 History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles
mimetic, on the surface true, image of past events. Moreover, it claims that
such passages were marked, so as to help the primary readerships that
approached the text within, rather than against its grain to recognize them.
I would like to emphasize from the outset that these studies repeatedly
demonstrate that Chronicles communicates to its intended readership a
theological worldview built around multiple, partial perspectives inform-
ing and balancing each other. Significantly, it is a worldview in which the
limitations of even theologically ‘proper’ knowledge are emphasized. For
instance, in Chronicles’ past similar deeds may and at times did lead to
very different results. Thus, even if most of the past is presented to the
readers as explainable, it also affirms that those who inhabited it could not
predict the path of future events. Chronicles is therefore, a (hi)storiographi-
cal work that informs its readers that historical and theological knowledge
does not enable the prediction of future events. Further, although Chroni-
cles tries to expand the ‘explainable’ past, it poignantly construes some
of the most crucial events in Israel’s social memory as unexplainable in
human terms. Thus, Chronicles communicates to its readers that some of
YHWH’s most influential decisions concerning Israel cannot be predicted
or explained. It is against this background of human limitation in
understanding causes and effects in a past (present and future) governed
by YHWH and the uncertainty that it brings, that the emphasis on divinely
ordained, prescriptive behaviour should be seen. The intellectual horizon
of Chronicles was perhaps not so far from that of the interpretative frame
of Job or Qohelet, and of these books as a whole.
The essays have been kept in their original form, except for minor
changes. These include very minor bibliographic updates, occasional addi-
tional comments in the notes, simple matters of style and the like, and a
few notes on matters on which I did substantially change my mind (see
Chapter 11). As a result, readers of this volume can still approach each one
of these essays separately, as readers of these chapters in their original
publication have been able to do. At the same time, the reader of this
volume will easily recognize that these essays are interconnected. At times,
a simple observation in the body of text or in a note in one is fully dis-
cussed in another; at times, the argument of one strongly builds on and
develops further or reinforces positions advanced in another. Readers of
this volume will be able to discern and follow these connections much
more easily than readers of the individual articles, and above all will be
able to assess the cumulative argument on the central matters mentioned
before that this collection as a whole provides.
1. Introduction 5
Since I have refrained from changing these essays in any substantial

way, I will mention here some of my thoughts as I underwent the process
of reading and thinking about them again, from a 2005 viewpoint.
The first essay (Chapter 2) originated as my presidential address at the
2002 Annual Meeting of the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies (CSBS).
The precise contents were distributed in printed form, as all presidential
addresses in the Society, in the yearly Bulletin the society distributes to its
members the following year. It was later published in Studies in Religion/
Sciences Religeuses, which is the journal of the Canadian Corporation for
Studies in Religion. It was my intention at the time to use the presidential
address to bring the book of Chronicles to the attention of the members
of the CSBS, and above all, to new ways of understanding Chronicles, to
invite them to consider a new general viewpoint. The book of Chronicles
has been discussed much more among members of the Society since. If I
contributed to that process, even if in a minor way, I would be delighted.
In its present form the essay serves well as an introductory chapter to
the volume as a whole. It provides a reflection on, and above all a summary
outline of some of the views I have adopted through time on the book of
Chronicles and the study of the book of Chronicles (see, e.g., Chapters 6, 8
and 9). It also elaborates on some important themes that are not dealt with
elsewhere in the volume (see especially the discussion about shaping
memory and similarity and dissimilarity in the presentation of a new his-
toriographical work).
A prominent aspect of the talk, and of the essay now, is the call to
recognize the balanced, theological approach that Chronicles communi-
cated to its intended and primary rereaderships, once all its messages are
taken into account. Chronicles is a work in which the partial messages of
individual literary subunits (e.g., regnal accounts or sections thereof)
interact, inform and place in proportion those of other subunits in the
book and all together communicate the full range of the theological dis-
course in which both authorship and intended and primary readerships
were involved. It follows, therefore, that one must carefully differentiate
between the messages conveyed by particular accounts, or portions thereof,
and those conveyed by the book as a whole. The former are only strands in
the dense tapestry of the latter. To understand the theological positions
that are brought forward in Chronicles as a whole, and which the intended
and primary rereaderships were supposed to associate with the Chronicler
as its implied author, the focus should be on the general tapestry. This
issue is a recurrent theme throughout the volume.
Looking back at this essay, my main regret is that I did not include in
the original address (or its later published version) any discussion of
modes of reading and the related questions concerning genre that emerge
from these considerations. Of course, a full discussion of these matters
would have been well beyond the scope of the presentation/article, but
some reference to them would have been in order.
An analysis of these matters, however, stands at the center of Chapter 3
(published for the first time in this volume). One of its main conclusions is
that the intended and primary readerships of the book were asked to, and
most likely did approach some passages in Chronicles (and other [hi]sto-
riographical works) from a perspective other than collecting information
so as to recreate a fully mimetic, on the surface, true image of past events.
In fact, the Chronicler (i.e., the implied author of the book as constructed
by the mentioned readerships) does not claim to provide a transparent
window into the past, but something akin to a painting of the past with a
particular point to make and a didactic purpose, that is, as representations
that bring forward a truth or sets of truths, but not necessarily a detailed,
mimetic and fully historically reliable picture of events and circumstances
of the past.
To be sure, the primary readerships most likely believed that the com-
municator speaking to them through the text of Chronicles, that is, the
Chronicler was relating to them the events as they truly happened. But
‘truly’ here does not point at ‘truth’ in the sense of ‘objective’ truth, or
history as ‘it actually happened’. The literati who constituted these com-
munities of readers neither expected nor demanded full and complete
mimesis with past events. Nor did their historiographical works claim to
provide it. In fact, they contain instances of lack of congruence at the
mimetic level that served as literary or rhetorical devices to draw attention
to meanings of the text at levels other than the mimetic, from the perspec-
tive of the primary readerships. The observations advanced in the chapter
bear implications for the study of ancient Israelite historiography and for
that of the possible genre differences and overlaps between ‘historical’ and
‘fictional’ narratives. A full study of these implications is, of course, beyond
the scope of the chapter and involves more than Chronicles. These
observations have also ‘practical’ applications for the study of particular
accounts in Chronicles. The latter are illustrated with several examples
from the account of Amaziah in 2 Chronicles 25. I hope readers of the
chapter are drawn to further studies of both the ‘practical’ and general
implications of the matters discussed here.
1. Introduction 7
Chapter 4 (i.e., ‘Shifting the Gaze: Historiographic Constraints in

Chronicles and their Implications’) is in part a call for a corrective stance.
The study of Chronicles has focused for the most part on how and why
Chronicles deviates from its sources. My call is to focus as much on cases
of ‘lack’ of deviation, which are at the very least as many in the book.
Certainly, Chronicles could not deny, some facts agreed upon within the
community/ies within and for which the book was composed. But why
these facts, but not others? What characterizes them, and what does it tell
us about the world of the intended and primary rereaderships of Chroni-
cles and their construction of the implied author of Chronicles?
This chapter maintains a very important distinction between ‘core
facts’ that cannot be challenged and all other facts that existed within the
relevant discourses and constructions of the past that existed among the
Yehudite literati of the time of Chronicles (cf. my ‘Malleability and its
Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, and Chap-
ter 6 in this volume). Rather than enumerating these core facts – though
numerous examples are provided in the chapter – the main point of the
essay is to examine how these distinctions between ‘core’ and ‘non-core’
contributes to an understanding of the worlds of knowledge within which
Chronicles was composed and first read and reread. Again, I hope this
chapter will contribute to the setting of an agenda that should, and I hope
will be expanded also in terms of the literature being studied. For instance,
one could ask which kinds of core facts are represented across biblical
genres in Yehud and which are not, and why? As per methodology, the
matter of core facts can be profitably approached within the general,
heuristic frame of social memory/ies and its/their roles in society. Cer-
tainly, the study of social memories has much to contribute to that of the
intellectual history of the Yehudite literati.
It is worth mentioning also that such studies should take into account
both the explicit and implicit, the narratively salient and the non-salient
references to worlds of knowledge. For instance, I addressed in the chapter
the supposed and often highlighted ‘lacks’ of references to central events in
the social construction of Israel’s past in Chronicles. I concluded that the
latter should not be construed as evidence for a denial or for an implied
request to dismiss or devaluate the periods that are not mentioned, nor
their main figures. In fact, these precise figures (e.g., Moses) may be
found to hold a central position in the Chronicles’ theology. Chronicles’
choice not to describe these events or periods – nor even to refer to them
in significant ways – is better explained in terms of the design for the
book.
Of course, since the article is focused on ‘shifting the gaze’ in research, it

does not discuss at any substantial length references to some implicit
instances of variation that affect substantially the construction of the past
and suggest a balance between malleability of social memory and lack
thereof. In other words, instances in which the past is not challenged
directly but indirectly and only partially, that is, a new implicit position is
set now to inform and be informed by the existing dominant aspect of the
social memory. (For the expression of substantive and sophisticated
theological positions by balancing different positions that is so pervasive
in Chronicles – and other works of biblical literature – see passim in this
volume). An obvious case is the implicit rejection in Chronicles of the
claim advanced in Kings that following Hezekiah’s massive defeat of the
Assyrians, the latter never returned or exerted any dominion of Judah (see
2 Chron. 33.14b). Future research on these matters is much needed.
Chapter 5 was originally part of a volume devoted to the Chronicler as
Historian. The volume itself is, as H.G.M. Williamson put it, a reflection of
the liveliness of the debates on Chronicles.1 Of course, a key question in
such debates is what is meant by ‘the Chronicler’. I, for one, mean the
implied author of the book of Chronicles in its present form and as con-
structed by its intended and primary readerships but, of course, I am fully
aware that other scholars hold other definitions. This is not a trivial matter,
since a debate about attributes of a particular referent must begin by
establishing the identity of such a referent or it risks being a conversation
in which everyone talks past each other.
This chapter examines reports in the texts of building construction
outside of Jerusalem, in both the Judean countryside and in north Israel,
during some periods and the lack of such reports in others. As a whole,
these reports (or their absence) are shown to depend much more on liter-
ary and theological/ideological concerns than on the availability of written
sources. In fact, the chapter suggests why various specific and detailed
notes on royal building enterprises may have been invented, as we would
put it today. Such a position stands in clear contrast to the often heard
stance that Chronicles would have had no good reason to do so, which was
also represented in the collection in which the chapter was originally
published (again, Williamson, very perceptively, points out and summa-
rizes in one sentence the sharp divergence of approaches present in the
book).2 The essay also maintains that even when it is likely that there were
some written sources, as in the case of the list of cities in 2 Chron. 11.5b-
10, the central heuristic question is why Chronicles associated such a list
with Rehoboam, instead of with another king. The answer to that question
1. Introduction 9
is again not to be found in the source itself, but in the literary and ideo-
logical world of the authorship and primary readerships of Chronicles. To
be sure, this analysis removes the possibility of using these accounts –
taken at face value – as positive proof of the building enterprises of Judahite
kings, but it also leads to a better understanding of the world of knowledge
of the society within which and for which Chronicles was composed and
contributes to the study of ancient historiography and to that of the con-
structions of the past in ancient Yehud.
What would I have written differently from the perspective of about
nine years later? First, I would have probably developed the matter of the
ideological correspondence of Judah (less Jerusalem) and northern Israel
and placed it within a larger frame of references informing each other and
which as a whole represent the worldviews of the Chronicler as construed
by the primary and intended rereaders (cf. Chapter 10). Yet, perhaps,
concerns about the scope of the paper and a desire to keep its sharp focus
might have preempted me from carrying out such a discussion in the
chapter. Secondly, although I have explicitly addressed this issue, I would
have brought more to the forefront the question of how do we know what
we claim to know (i.e., epistemological issues) and how this relates to the
examples discussed here. For instance, I would have strongly emphasized
that despite the fact that the chapter deals with reports about building
activities, archaeology can neither prove nor disprove that Chronicles fol-
lowed reliable historical sources, or that such sources were available to the
authorship. Surely something, and in fact quite a bit, was built in Judah
during Manasseh’s reign and certainly wells were dug during the reign of
Uzziah, and during the reign of most Judahite kings. But findings of wells
and of increased settlement in some areas during the time of Manasseh –
to use these two examples – do not prove that such historical realities led
to the inclusion of relevant references in Chronicles (e.g., 2 Chron. 33.14b
or 2 Chron. 26.10) or that one must assume the existence of (accurate?)
historical documents that mediated between that reality of the monarchic
period and the world of knowledge of the authorship and rereadership of
Chronicles. Conversely, cases of lack of such references (e.g., in relation to
Josiah’s days) cannot be interpreted to mean that no wells were dug during
his lengthy reign or that no documentation about them (but about those
built by other kings) reached the hands of the authorship of Chronicles,
directly or indirectly. Similarly, one cannot learn from the fact that (a) a
town existed in the monarchic period and (b) Chronicles associated the said
town with the deeds of some monarchic period king, that the authorship of
Chronicles must have had reliable sources or traditions that described the
actions of the king in that town. If the town existed in the Chronicler’s time
or was known at that time, then the authorship of the book could have
creatively imagined an ideologically proper story, or deduced logically
from that authorship’s viewpoint that such types of events most likely took
place in such and such location, or referred to a place to increase the
verisimilitude of the story, or any combination of the above. Thus, for
instance, the reference to Babylon and its very existence in Manasseh’s
days neither proves nor disproves the historicity of the story of this king’s
captivity in 2 Chron. 33.10-11. Likewise, arguments that unduly constrain
the Chronicler to a regard for the actual text of sources and limit the
amount of what we may call ‘invention’, but from the perspective of the
authorship (and probably of the intended primary readerships) were seen
as logical deductions, hold no water. Arguments of the type, ‘the
Chronicler could not have thought/imagined…’ are particularly difficult
to sustain, even when archaeological evidence is brought to bear. But,
perhaps, the appropriate place for a focused and well-developed discussion
of these considerations would have been a separate article.
Chapter 6 continues to some extent the thread of essays on social
memory and core facts, but it points to the way in which sharing a set of
‘core facts’ does not necessarily mean a sharing of constructed meaning
and theological and social significance. Kings and Chronicles both reflect
a shared set of facts agreed upon about the secession of the northern
kingdom, but the report of the secession conveys a very different meaning
for the intended and primary readerships of Chronicles than for those of
Kings. In Chronicles, as in most – if not all – historiographical works, the
narrative context gives meaning to the facts, rather than vice versa.
This chapter is, in a nutshell, an analysis of the Chronicler’s construc-
tion of the secession of the north, its distinctiveness and its implications
for understanding the ideological worldviews and self-perceptions shaped
and reflected in the account. Chronicles’ explanation of the secession
shows YHWH as one who made crucial decisions concerning Israel that
were essentially beyond the explanatory power of the Yehudite literati,
among whom one is to locate the authorship and primary readership of
Chronicles. Historical events and particularly crucial events such as the
secession may defy human reason, including that of the literati and the
implied authors of the works they penned and read (cf. Chapter 2 in this
volume). Why would, for instance, YHWH decide that the glorious king-
dom should be divided during the golden age of Israelite history? No
answer is or can be given. Why would the Israelites, and particularly Reho-
boam, behave in such an absolutely irrational, unexplainable way? No
1. Introduction 11
answer is or can be given. An important theological (and historiographical)

corollary of these considerations is that since history is conceived by the
implied authorship and the intended and primary readerships of the
Chronicles as a record of YHWH’s (direct or indirect) deeds, since YHWH
is not imagined as bound by the limits of human reason, then from their
perspective, history (and the fate of Israel) must be at times fully unpre-
dictable and certainly unexplainable. This is an important admission for a
historian (cf. with the literati’s self-criticism in the book of Jonah, see Ben
Zvi, Signs of Jonah)3 as well as an important statement about the mystery
of the deity for a theologian.
This chapter illuminates also the Chronicler’s strategy of placing seem-
ingly competing claims informing and balancing one another. Within this
system the intended and primary readers are asked to evaluate and reinter-
pret the particular messages conveyed by certain units in a way strongly
informed by those of other accounts. As a result, they develop a more
integrative and far more sophisticated understanding of the theological
positions that are brought forward in Chronicles as a whole and those they
were supposed to associate with the Chronicler. This is a recurrent and
crucial theme in this volume as a whole.
The chapter also demonstrates that contrary to common perceptions,
the kingdoms are never ‘reunited’ from the Chronicler’s perspective, and
that Judahite pious kings are constructed as kings who refrained from
politically annexing the north, even if within the world of the book they
certainly could have done so. They are implicitly constructed as being
aware that such an action would have been against YHWH’s wishes.
Although this understanding of YHWH’s will does not preclude at all a
divinely-led future political re-unification of Israel (cf. some of the utopias
in prophetic books), it places the latter fully in the hands of YHWH, whose
actions and timing cannot be fully understood, and certainly not predicted
by humans. This position of the Chronicler raises even further the ideo-
logical importance of YHWH’s decision to split the kingdom, for (a) it is
never reversed in the entire (hi)story of monarchic Israel and (b), through
projection, it is still decisive for the relation between Yehud and Samaria
in the days of the authorship and intended and primary rereaderships of
Chronicles. Further implications of this position and the related theologi-
cal concept of ‘peripheral Israel’ stood outside the scope of this article, but
are at the very heart of Chapter 10, which is profitably read alongside this
chapter.
Chapter 7 discusses constructions of time in Chronicles and the theo-
logical or ideological worldviews that such constructions imply. It addresses
questions of malleability, and lack thereof, concerning temporal matters,

as well as narrative and ideological expansions and contractions of time
within the world of the text. It discusses also the impact of these con-
siderations on questions of historicity and historiography (cf. Chapter 3).
Among the observations advanced in the chapter is that Chronicles shows
a shift in the ideological organization of time from king-centeredness to a
textual-centeredness, which emphasizes the coherence, consistency, and
legitimacy of texts that were considered authoritative, and therefore in
need of ‘explanation’ of their true meaning. The chapter also underscores
that the shift involves a discourse of theological coherence between the
particular in Israel and the cosmic/universal, and an emphasis on the land.
Looking back on this contribution from the vantage point of the present, I
would have added that here too Chronicles shows a system of claims
balancing and placing one another in proportion. For the aforementioned
shift following the fall of the monarchy is to some extent balanced by a
sense of continuity of genealogically organized time from the monarchic to
the postmonarchic time (see 1 Chronicles 3; this is consistent with the
general tendency in Chronicles to construe continuity within images of
upheaval and change, and vice versa; cf. and contrast with the approach in
J.W. Wright’s, ‘The Fabula of the Book of Chronicles’).4 In fact, there are
very few claims in Chronicles that are not placed in ‘proportion’ by claims
advanced elsewhere in the book.
Chapter 6 also discusses the implied apprehension that the arrow of
time might be curved, that what seems to be fully mono-directional time
might end up being circular time. In all these aspects Chronicles’ concerns
and viewpoints are emblematic of the discourses of Achaemenid period
Yehud.
All these considerations have not only an impact on the so-called
historicity of Chronicles, but much more importantly shed light on reading
strategies for historiographical works that were in existence in ancient
Israel. These issues are not addressed in the chapter, but are brought to the
center within a much larger, and appropriate framework in Chapter 3.
The 1995 article republished here with minor changes as Chapter 8 has
been crucial in the developing of my approach to Chronicles. There I
raised for the first time in a full length article the notion that the
Chronicler (i.e., the implied author of the book of Chronicles as construed
by its primary and intended readers) consistently set the lessons that the
historical audience may have learned from some, or even many, of the
individual accounts in the book in theological perspective by qualifying
them with the message conveyed by other accounts. The Chronicler, thus,
1. Introduction 13
shaped within the text, and communicated to the audience, a sense of

proportion that is integral to the thought and teachings conveyed by the
book of Chronicles as a whole. This sense of proportion reflected and
shaped an image of YHWH’s ways in a manner consistent with a quite
unpredictable world. It allowed for a variety of potential interpretations of
(socially accepted) historical events, and of the actual experiences of the
audience for which this book was written. This sense of proportion or
balance is a major key for a proper understanding of the theology of the
Chronicler. Its presence throughout the book is demonstrated time and
again through most of the chapters of this book that postdate the writing
of this chapter.
Somewhat later I recognized that the literary (and ideological) strategy
of shaping and reflecting meaning by reading, rereading, evaluating, re-
evaluating, balancing, and reinterpreting the particular messages conveyed
by a unit or section thereof in the book in a way that is deeply informed by
the (at times, seemingly contradictory) messages of other units is not only
well-attested but central to the intended and primary constructions of
meaning in many other books within the authoritative repertoire of
ancient Yehud, and particularly prophetic books (see my works on Micah,
Jonah and Hosea). Looking back, this was certainly an expected feature of
authoritative books meant to be read, reread, and meditated upon, which
is not dependent on a particular genre, be it historiography or prophetic
literature.
A conclusion that cannot be overemphasized of these considerations is
that, as mentioned above, studies in Chronicles must clearly and explicitly
distinguish between the messages conveyed by a particular account, or
portion thereof, and those conveyed by the book as a whole. The former
are only strands in the dense tapestry of the latter. In other words, the
messages of the book as a whole evolve as the intended and primary
rereaders move beyond the level of individual accounts, or sections thereof,
and as a result, they develop a more integrative and far more sophisticated
understanding of the theological positions that are brought forward in
Chronicles as a whole and those they were supposed to associate with the
Chronicler. As mentioned above, and against a popular perception, these
theological positions are characterized by a strong sense of proportion, or
balance, by positions of ‘both – and’, rather than categorical positions.
In Chapter 9, A. Labahn and I turn to the characterization of women
in the genealogies. Studies of the worldviews and the related images of
the past shaped and communicated by Chronicles cannot focus only on
constructions of the past deeds of men, but should also include the study
of ideological characterizations of women and their deeds, of discursive

characterizations of women in society and the like. To be sure, there is no
denying that Chronicles is a patriarchal book, in the sense that it is the
product of a patriarchal society. But the same holds true for all the books
of the Hebrew Bible, and almost any other ancient book. As such, this
characterization by itself, although correct, is not particularly helpful for
historical studies. More promising is to ask questions such as in which
ways do the genealogies of Chronicles construct women, their social roles
and the boundaries around them?
This chapter shows, for instance, that the genealogies do not provide
support for many negative characterizations of women in male discourses
of the time and somewhat later periods. Women are not mentioned as
whores, temptresses, impurity carriers, as leading men to the worship of
other gods, nor are they constructed as essentially ‘passive’. These gene-
alogies created a literary and ideological world in which women cannot be
dismissed, and in which they can become very active. To be sure, women
are characterized in ways that maintain and reinforce the traditional
female roles within the (patriarchal) family and associate them with divine
blessing (i.e., progeny). But the very same genealogies also provided their
(male) readers with a substantial number of instances in which women
took upon roles traditionally carried out by males. Moreover, these
actions were viewed so favorable that they were associated with divine
blessing. In sum, on the one hand, as expected, the genealogies reflected,
carried and reinforced the main construction of family and family roles in
a traditional ancient near eastern society, but on the other, they taught
their intended and primary readers again and again that gender and
ethnic boundaries could, were, and by inference can and should be
transgressed by the Yehudite community, on occasion, with divine bless-
ing, and resulting in divine blessing. The contrast with the positions
advocated in Ezra-Nehemiah concerning ethnic boundaries is obvious
and seems to indicate an unbridgeable chasm between the theologies of
Ezra-Nehemiah and Chronicles on such a central ‘halachic’ as well as
conceptual area.
What remains to be done is a consistent re-evaluation of the construc-
tions and characterizations of women in the rest of the book of Chronicles
and of the ways in which they interrelate with and inform (balance?) those
communicated in the genealogies. This endeavor demands, of course, at
least a full monograph devoted to the topic and stands well beyond the
limits of a chapter in a volume of collected essays. Of course, any good
article is supposed to raise issues for further and more thorough study.
1. Introduction 15
Chapter 10 (published here for the first time) focuses on the ideological
interrelation between Yehud/Jerusalem and Israel. It examines the ways in
which Chronicles dealt with the very existence of Israel outside ‘the land’
during the Persian period and its attempts to ideologically Israelitize (or
better Yehudize) them within their own Jerusalem-centered discourses. It
is a study of the construction of ‘peripheral Israel’, and to some extent of
the northern tribes/Samaria, which are viewed as standing in a liminal
status. On the one hand, the latter are in ‘the land’ (as opposed to those in
Babylonia or Egypt, for example), but on the other, they live outside Judah/
Yehud/Jerusalem and are peripheral to the main drama of Israel’s history,
as constructed in the discourses of these literati. Readers may wish to read
this chapter in relation to and as partially complementing Chapter 6, and
vice versa.
The following point needs to be stressed: given (a) the central ideologi-
cal and social value of constructions of central and peripheral Israel in
ancient Yehud and (b) the fact that Chronicles was composed, read and
reread as part of a much larger corpus of authoritative texts, it seems to me
that the road ahead concerns the ways in which the images of central and
peripheral Israel in Chronicles relate to those in other authoritative books
within the accepted repertoire of the literati of the time. My impression is
that the images reflected and communicated in Chronicles are quite ubiq-
uitous and represent a core, connective ideological feature (i.e., one that
connects many other disperse features and keeps them together) in post-
monarchic Yehud, akin and related to the concepts of ‘exile and return’
(see my ‘What is New in Yehud?’)5 and of ‘exilic Israel’ (see my ‘Inclusion
in and Exclusion from’).6 But the case still has to be made. In addition,
more research is needed to track the development of such concepts, and
the role of connective ideological stances as necessary, systemic features
for the general stability of a dynamic worldview/s in Yehud and particu-
larly so since the latter were shaped by and around shaped a multiplicity of
claims. Of course, these matters require a work solely devoted to them.
Chapter 11 (published 1993) is an in-depth study of the account of Ahaz
in Chronicles. Moreover, it shows the heuristic importance of studies of
paradigmatic regnal accounts as it shades light in a number of important
issues concerning the theology of the Chronicler. In addition, it contains
an excursus on Chronicles’ position regarding the future role of the Davidic
king.
This chapter is also the end result of years of work on the account of
Ahaz in the earlier stages of my career. In many ways it served as a living
and enlivening spring out of which and through which I kept developing
the ideas that were put forward in a more salient and clear way in Chapter
8 and which served as a fertile ground on which I developed my later
studies in Chronicles. To be sure, as mentioned in the body of the chapter,
at the time of writing the original version of this contribution I still thought
that I was analyzing the actual author or authors. Not much later I became
keenly aware that, in fact, I was dealing with the implied author of Chroni-
cles all along. Similarly, several years later I came to the conclusion that in
Chronicles there is no ‘re-united monarchy’, though to be sure, the Jerusa-
lemite center is characterized as more able to properly socialize Northern
Israel into Israel following the fall of the northern monarchy (see Chapters
6 and 10). The idea that Chronicles as a whole conveys its theology
through sets of reports that if read separately would have communicated
positions that appear on the surface to be at odds with each other appears
in the article, but is not fully developed. It is worth stressing than in all
these accounts the article is still very much representative of some present
day critical discourses about Chronicles, even if I do not share them now.
Reading it back now, from the perspective of more than a decade of
work on Chronicles and other biblical literature, I still stand by the essence
of the analyses advanced there. I notice, however, that the study of the
message of Chronicles concerning wrong ways of learning from history/
experience (§2.2) could have been elaborated further and slightly rephrased.
It is true that Chronicles conveys to its intended and primary readerships
that inner logic of worldly Realpolitik leads to disaster, and by implication
that so does any rational enterprise that does not take into account YHWH
and human obligations towards YHWH. It is to be added, however, that
the concept of a worldly, secular Realpolitik is far more meaningful in our
discourses about policies and historical causation than in ancient ones.
Within the basic worldviews that existed in the ancient Near East, there
were humans but also there were divine beings. A historical narrative that
deals solely with humans, and in which deities neither play nor can play
any role whatsoever, explicitly or implicitly, would not have been accepted
as reliable, and certainly not as mimetic of the ‘real world’. Similarly, any
construction of strategic or tactical planning that dealt only with ‘worldly’
matters (e.g., numbers of soldiers, equipment, supplies, fortifications), but
takes no consideration of the wishes of the divine beings would have been
considered foolish. In fact, this a common trope in the characterization of
the enemy in neo-Assyrian documents and in some biblical sources as
utterly foolish, a despiser of the deities, and worthy of contempt by any
‘reasonable’ person.7 It is in this general rhetorical, historiographical, and
certainly ideological context that the motif of the failure of the ‘worldly
1. Introduction 17
Realpolitik’ in the account of Ahaz can and perhaps also should be ap-
proached. In addition, Ahaz’s approach to the Assyrian king as a potential
savior (instead of YHWH) plays on the image of mighty foreign kings as
fulfilling the role of para-gods who take the place of a failed (and by
theological necessity, always failed) alternative to YHWH as patrons and
protectors of Israel (see my commentary on Hosea, pp. 143-44 and passim).
(One may even compare somehow the offense with that of Asa who in
illness turned only to the physicians.) To be sure, within the account, the
character of Ahaz learns the lesson and decides to worship divine beings,
but errs by choosing the gods of Damascus. The point here is not that the
logic that Ahaz used was necessarily flawed, but that logic alone is unable
to provide an answer to Ahaz in such conditions. Wisdom and rational
thinking need what the books of Proverbs and Ben Sira would call ‘fear of
YHWH’. The problem with Ahaz is that he lacked such a fear and without
it he was unable to use wisely his rational abilities. It is in the theological
discourses encapsulated in phrases such as ‘the fear of YHWH is the
beginning of wisdom/profitable rational thinking’ that the account of Ahaz
in Chronicles may be further illuminated.
Chapter 12 is the oldest in the collection. Although it is a bit dated, to
my knowledge there is still no comparable study of the reception of Chroni-
cles in the late Second Temple period. I am not aware of any serious
objections against its main conclusions, which in my opinion certainly
stand today. As a whole this chapter points to matters of reception and
illuminates ways in which various readerships may approach the same text
in different ways, and even ascertain different levels of authority. The main
premise that in many regards Chronicles was considered somewhat less
authoritative than Kings is consistent with some observations advanced in
Chapter 2.
Readers of this volume who are interested in the ancient history of
reception of Chronicles are encouraged to read Chapter 12 along with two
relatively new contributions, namely I. Kalimi, ‘History of Interpretation’
(1998)8 and G.N. Knoppers and P.B. Harvey, Jr, ‘Things Omitted and
Things Remaining’ (2002).9 Readers particularly interested in Josephus’
retelling of the (hi)story of ancient Israel and the ways in which he ap-
proached Chronicles are strongly advised to read Chapter 12 in a way
informed by C.T. Begg, Josephus’ Account; L.H. Feldman, Studies, and of
course, the recently published volumes 1-3 of the new translation and
commentary of Josephus’ works edited by S. Mason. 10
Chapter 13 represents another instance of shifting the gaze. This time
rather than looking at the reported royal speeches of Israelite kings (i.e.,
those of the textually and ideologically inscribed inner group), it focuses

on those of foreign kings. In the process, the chapter sheds light on the
characterization of ‘the other’ and on the ideology that is reflected by, and
communicated through these speeches to the intended and primary
readerships of the book in relation to the potential of foreign nations. For
instance, it is worth stressing that Solomon is characterized as a king who
considers Huram, the king of Tyre, as a worthy partner for theological
reflection about the reasonability of building a house for one who cannot
be contained even by the ‘highest heavens’ and that Huram is portrayed as
a foreigner who understands the unique and preeminent status of YHWH,
the latter’s unique relation to Israel and whose style is reminiscent of
several Psalms. Significantly, Huram is also careful to keep in mind poten-
tial ethnic concerns about the building of the temple. Foreign kings who
speak in Chronicles are never presented as stereotypical figures and with
the exception of Sennacherib (see ‘core facts’ agreed by the community)
voice either godly messages or God’s messages. From these accounts, the
intended and primary readerships can only learn that foreign monarchs
and by implication their peoples have the potential to acknowledge and
recognize the supreme deity of YHWH along with the elevated status of
Israel/Judah/Jerusalem. They remain ‘the other’, as they fulfill the role of
the ‘external evidence’ supporting the claims of the inner group, but are
also partially Israelitized. They are construed as hybrid, most positive
characters. That which Chronicles places in the past is not so divergent
from the hope for the future about the nations that will come to acknowl-
edge YHWH and the role of Zion/Jerusalem and Israel in prophetic texts.
Again, despite all their differences, Chronicles and prophetic literature
seems to reflect two sides of a largely shared set of basic worldviews (and
cf. the characterization of the foreign kings who speak with the non-
Israelite speakers in Jonah). Of course, in Chronicles, the positive images
of foreign kings are balanced by that of Sennacherib. ‘The other’ can think
and behave godly but also very ungodly, just like the Israelites. Finally, the
fact that the last two kings who speak godly in Chronicles are foreigners is
also an important ideological feature.
This chapter may be read alongside Chapter 10 which deals with
peripheral Israel as construed from the center. All in all, Chapter 13 is a
step in the study of ‘the other’ in Chronicles, and from a larger perspective
in the discourses of ancient Israel/Yehud. An obvious next topic for research
would be a full analysis of foreign kings in Chronicles, because the conclu-
sions about the kings who speak inform and are informed by those who do
not speak in the book. Looking back on this paper, I notice that it is a bit
1. Introduction 19
unidirectional. The creation of a hybrid identity for foreign kings, for the
outer group, involves to some extent at least a partial construction of
hybridity within the inner group. After all, if the boundaries are somewhat
porous, they are so in both directions. I should have emphasized that
element.
Endnotes
1. See H.G.M. Williamson’s ‘Review of M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L.
McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1997)’, in VT 48 (1998), pp. 276-77.
2. Williamson’s ‘Review’, p. 277.
3. E. Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup,
367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003).
4. John W. Wright, ‘The Fabula of the Book of Chronicles’, M.P. Graham and S.L.
McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup 263,
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 136-55 (esp. 144-47).
5. E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and
B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the
Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-48.
6. E. Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of
the Term “Israel” in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy
(eds.), The Pitcher Is Broken: Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190;
Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), pp. 95-149.
7. E. Ben Zvi, A Historical-Critical Study of The Book of Obadiah (BZAW, 242;
Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 59-61, 68-71.
8. I. Kalimi, ‘History of Interpretation: The Book of Chronicles in Jewish Tradition.
From Daniel to Spinoza’, RB 105 (1998), pp. 5-41.
9. G.N. Knoppers, and P.B. Harvey, Jr, ‘Things Omitted and Things Remaining:
The Name of the Book of Chronicles in Anitquity’, JBL 121 (2002), pp. 227-43.
10. C.T. Begg, Flavius Josephus Judean Antiquities 5–7 (ed. S. Mason; Flavius
Josephus Translation and Commentary, IV; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2001); L.H. Feldman,
Studies in Josephus’ Rewritten Bible (JSTJ, 58; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1998) and Flavius
Josephus Judean Antiquities 1–4 (ed. S. Mason; Flavius Josephus Translation and
Commentary, III; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000).
Chapter 2
THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES: ANOTHER LOOK*
1. Introduction
Today I would like to invite you to take another and more balanced look at
the Book of Chronicles, to read and reread it, to see beyond its apparent
and misleading simplicity, and to consider or reconsider its potential as an
area of academic research or interest. I am doing so fully aware of the bad
PR that has accompanied this book for centuries. Even today, despite the
recent efforts and contributions of a relatively small group of scholars,
including some members of our society (i.e., the CSBS), the book is con-
sidered more often than not as, at best, of peripheral importance from
historical, literary or theological perspectives. The book is often described
as being boring, inferior to other biblical narrative works – never mind to
books such as Isaiah or Hosea. It is often characterized as being theologi-
cally or ideologically flat, and of lesser value as a historiographical work,
not only in comparison with Greek historiography, but also, and mainly, in
comparison with the deuteronomistic historiographical works. Many col-
leagues among those who do not work on Chronicles still identify with the
words of Baruch Spinoza, more than three centuries ago, at the beginning
of the critical study of the Bible, ‘I have always been astonished that they
[the books of Chronicles] have been included in the Bible by men who shut
out from the canon the books of Wisdom, Tobit, and the others styled
apocryphal’ (TPT, II, 10.5).1
Today, I would like to invite you to reconsider the value of Chronicles,
and as an ancient historian to point at the depth of the knowledge that it
may provide us about ancient Israel. To be sure, I am not talking about
the so-called historicity, or better, the degree of correlation between the
accounts in Chronicles and the most likely reconstruction of the history of
monarchic Israel/Judah. In fact, I am on record as one who is very skeptical
about what one may learn from Chronicles about the historical circum-
stances in monarchic Judah.2 Rather, I would like to focus on the intellec-
tual and social history of the Persian-period literati within which and for
2. The Book of Chronicles: Another Look 21
which the book was composed, in its present form. I would like to focus on
the interaction between the text of Chronicles and these communities of
readers and rereaders, on meanings that these ancient literati detected in,
or likely developed through, their reading and rereading of the book, either
consciously or unconsciously. I would like to relate these meanings and
ideological constructions to those conveyed by other texts also accepted
within these communities of rereaders, as well as to their historical and
social background, and ask questions about what can be learned about
these readers from the historical fact that a book such as Chronicles was
written for them, and that they accepted it within the repertoire of books
to be read and reread. To illustrate the matter, I would focus on four
different vignettes or ‘explorations’ that illustrate the approach I am
suggesting.
But before I do so, a word about method in the study of the book of
Chronicles as a written document meant to be read and reread by an
intended readership. Although the text included portions that were quoted
from Samuel, Kings and other sources, the ancient readers were not asked
to skip these parallel sections. The (hi)story narrated in Chronicles includes
the paralleled material, and it is this (hi)story that the readers were sup-
posed to learn.3
2. Between Human Actions and Divinely

Controlled Effects: Implications
One of the most detrimental positions for an understanding of the full
range of the ideology conveyed by the book of Chronicles to its intended
readership has been the almost universally-accepted claim that the book
reflects and shapes a worldview that is strongly framed around, and actu-
ally governed by, a concept of individually-assessed coherence between
actions and effects regulated by YHWH, which at times is called the
Chronicler’s doctrine of retribution,4 or ‘the imperative of reward and
punishment’.5 I have addressed these matters in other contexts,6 but given
what is at stake, a brief summary of the evidence is in order.
To begin with, there is no doubt whatsoever that the (hi)story of Israel
as presented in Chronicles includes numerous instances that exemplify
again and again the actual implementation of coherence between human
actions and divine responses.7 But it is also true that the same (hi)story
contains a very substantial number of instances that unequivocally show a
lack of this coherence. Moreover, it bears particular note that at times
Chronicles associates these particular instances of lack of coherence with
crucial events or social roles in its construction of Israel’s (hi)story.
It is obvious that in this (hi)story not all pious people enjoy blessing,
as defined in the book (i.e., long life, children, prosperity and the like).
Zechariah the son of Yehoiada was actually killed, and Hanani the seer was
put in prison, both due to their actions. These actions, however, are clearly
characterized in the book as those that pious people, and certainly true
prophets, are required to take. Other people, not necessarily prophets, are
described as experiencing oppression due to a bad king’s anger when con-
fronted with pious speech (2 Chron. 16.10; 24.20-22; cf. 2 Chron. 18.1-27;
25.14-16). Bad kings may have to go through a foreign invasion, but the
same holds true for good kings (Asa, Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah; see 2 Chron.
14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21). Whether the invasion is to be under-
stood as a ‘divine test’ when pious kings come under foreign attack, as is
often claimed,8 but as ‘divine punishment’ when sinful kings are con-
fronted with the same situation, as at times the text explicitly claims
(2 Chron. 12.2), the fact remains that the same divinely-caused, but
worldly results follow polar opposite human behaviors. Thus, the concept
of a necessary coherence between the foreign invasions and sinful behavior
is strongly and unequivocally subverted by the text, and not once, but four
times in Chronicles (2 Chron. 14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21).
The concept that an individual may receive even incommensurable
blessings without ever doing anything to deserve them is also advanced in
Chronicles. ‘See, a son shall be born to you; he shall be a man of peace. I
will give him peace from all his enemies on every side; for his name shall
be Shlomoh and I will give shalom and quiet to Israel in his days. He shall
build a house for my name. He shall be a son to me, and I will be a father to
him’ (1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 1 Chron. 28.5-7; 29.1). A situation of peace and
quiet is in itself a blessing within the world of Chronicles, and the same
holds true for building activities in general. Since the building project
referred to here is that of the temple, Solomon’s blessing is the highest
possible in this category. The same can be said about the father-son rela-
tion between YHWH and Solomon that is described here. But what action
could Solomon have done before he was even born to receive such a divine
‘reward’? Certainly, this is not a case in which the pious actions of an
individual lead to corresponding effects in the divine economy. This in-
stance involves both a divine, personal gift and a reward for the deeds of a
father, which leads us to the question of ancestral merit. Chronicles also
fails to explain the divine choice of Solomon’s father, David, in terms of
blessings that befell him because of his deeds prior to the blessing.9
Ancestral merit (or demerit) contradicts a doctrine of an individually
assessed coherence between actions and effects regulated by God. Indeed,
Chronicles clearly contains numerous texts that seem to negate any notion
of ancestral merit.10 But first, and to mention the obvious, the doctrine of
ancestral merit is explicitly present in 2 Chron. 21.7.11 Second, many
accounts in Chronicles obviously imply a hereditary concept, and the same
holds true for the general worldview conveyed by the book. Within the
ideology of the book, to serve as a king over YHWH’s kingdom, or as priest
in the only temple for the only God in the entire world, or to be Israel, for
that matter, were blessings, or at least potential blessings, that were not
available to others. These potential blessing were inherited. Third, pun-
ishment of children for the sins of their fathers is also attested in, and
communicated to the readership of Chronicles. For instance, pious and
theologically reliable Hezekiah is described as saying, ‘for our fathers have
been unfaithful and have done what was evil in the sight of the LORD our
God… Therefore the wrath of the LORD came upon Judah and Jerusalem,
and he has made them an object of horror, of astonishment, and of hissing,
as you see with your own eyes. Our fathers have fallen by the sword and
our sons and our daughters and our wives are in captivity for this’ (2 Chron.
29.6-9). The text clearly states, ‘our sons, our daughters and our wives’
suffer from the results of the sins of ‘our fathers’. If one were to argue that
‘children and wives’ are not to be considered individuals that stand on
their own for these matters in this discourse (cf. the book of Job) and
therefore that this example does not really count, then still Chronicles
informs the readers that the land has to be desolate for seventy years, until
the coming of the kingdom of Persia. Surely, there were many males who
were born, became adults and eventually even fatherless during these
seventy years. They could not have polluted the land in any way and still
were unable to live in it. They were clearly forced to live in exile from their
land for the sins of their ancestors (2 Chron. 36.20-21; cf. 1 Chron. 9.1).
Needless to say, all these cases are absolutely inconsistent with a categori-
cal principle of individually-assessed coherence between human deeds and
divine responses. Additional examples come easily to mind. For instance,
the readership of Chronicles is told of seventy thousand men who died due
to David’s census, without the text even suggesting that they died because
of their own sins (see 1 Chron. 21.14). One may note also that the reader-
ship can infer that kings strongly influenced the behavior of the people, for
they tend to depart from their wrong ways as soon as a sinful king dies, to
the point that they even deny the just-deceased king his burial honors (see
2 Chron. 28.27; cf. 2 Chron. 21.19-20).12
Further, a doctrine of coherence implies also some form of scale that
relates two manifestations, human actions and divine retributions. But the
readership of Chronicles is told that such a scale is not retrievable from

Israel’s (hi)story. The readers of Chronicles are informed that, for instance,
Ahaz, the worst possible king of Judah, although punished with defeat in
war, is not killed, though members of his elite and many of his people are.
Did Ahaz not forsake YHWH as much as those twenty thousand men who
were killed in one day because ‘they had forsaken YHWH, the god of the
fathers’ (see 2 Chron. 28.6; contrast with 2 Chron. 33.1-13)?
It seems to me that, as in relation to many other matters, the book of
Chronicles as a whole advances here a balanced viewpoint. Theological or
ideological claims advanced in some accounts are informed and balanced
by contrasting claims advanced elsewhere in the book.13 The result is a
deeply connected web of meanings that reflects and shapes a far more
sophisticated discourse than any set of accounts separately (a device ubiq-
uitous in prophetic literature).14
If the reading of Chronicles is meant, among other things, to encourage
an understanding of the present and of the divine economy by understand-
ing the past of the readership, then it cannot be overstressed that Chroni-
cles as a whole conveys a sense that not only human actions cannot be
predicted, but also YHWH’s response to them cannot be predicted, and at
times remains unexplainable.15 Doing good may lead to blessing, but also
to death (cf. Job); oppression and death may come to the innocent, and
although people are supposed to make their own choices and be responsi-
ble for them, they may also suffer because of the sins of their fathers, and
conversely, their father’s position may lead to privilege and blessing. In
addition, YHWH may cause even crucial events, such as the secession of
the Northern Kingdom (see 2 Chron. 11.4)16 or the selection of David,
simply because YHWH has so decided.
The point I want to emphasize here is not so much the concept of
YHWH’s freedom to act. There is nothing surprising about that. This
freedom was usual in ideological constructions of the hegemonic side in
asymmetric relations such as deity-human, great king-vassal king, king-
subject, master-servant (or slave). Instead, I would like to focus on the
self-image of the authorship and readership of Chronicles, on their strong
self-awareness of the limitations of their own knowledge. These limitations
concern not only the literati’s ability to understand their past, or YHWH,
but also involve an inability to predict the effects of human actions on the
basis of the past, and this is particularly interesting in ancient histo-
riographical work. Significantly, the more the literati read and carefully
reread the (hi)story presented by Chronicles, the more aware they become
that they may not be able to predict or even understand particular events.
The more they read and reread the book, the more aware they become that
YHWH’s described actions seem to be contingent rather than a result of
any categorical imperatives that they can abstract from (hi)story, from any
(hi)story.17
I would like to conclude this first exploration with two observations:
(1) The book shapes and reflects the self-image of the literati and the
limitations of the knowledge they may achieve through their reading and
rereading of authoritative literature about Israel’s past, but by doing so, at
the same time, the importance of careful reading and rereading of these
same texts is reinforced, for after all, they learn as much because they
carefully study these texts. (2) Reading and rereading Chronicles brought
salience to unbridgeable limitations in their knowledge and to their lack
of ability to predict particular events in the future. But at the same time, it
brought to their attention numerous, blunt accounts that (a) carried a clear
appeal to behave in a manner consistent with that which the community
considered divinely mandated and, accordingly, proper and appropriate;
and (b) exemplified an individually-assessed sense of correspondence
between human actions and divinely ordained effects. Thus, on the one
hand, Chronicles is a document pointing at, reflecting on, and contributing
to the sophisticated self-understanding of Yehudite literati for whom it
was written, including their limitations (cf. also, e.g., Jonah),18 but on the
other, it was a great source of edifying texts that could be used to educate
(or ideologically socialize) the community, to teach its members how to
behave on the grounds of the events of their past. Significantly, many of
the accounts in Chronicles, when taken separately, seem to be written to
maximize persuasion, to ingrain a ‘godly’ behavior.
The presence of these types of accounts in the book is not surprising
given the likely social roles of literati in ancient Israel as ‘educators’ and
brokers of authoritative teachings (cf. 2 Chron. 17.9; 2 Chron. 20.20).19 It
also reflects an important element in their own intellectual, ideological dis-
course/s, for within them, even if the future or (hi)story is unpredictable,
even if YHWH’s actions are not fully explainable and will never be, the
need to seek YHWH and follow YHWH’s commandments remained. To
some extent, one may compare this approach with that in Qoh. 12.12-14,
and particularly with ‘the end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God,
and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone’ (Qoh.
12.13; NRSV). This text, although belonging to a very different genre, reflects
a similar theological attitude, whether knowingly or unknowingly. More-
over, it was written for a community of readers that was not too different
from that of the primary readership of Chronicles. Both were written for
what could only be the relatively few bearers of high literacy in ancient
Jerusalem, in not too dissimilar societies (even if Qohelet, as it stands, was
likely written in the Ptolemaic period and Chronicles, as it stands, likely in
the late Persian period).
3. Between Similarity and Dissimilarity in the Presentation

of a New Historiographical Work: Implications
One of the most salient features of Chronicles from the perspective of the
intended readership is that it constructs their (hi)story of their own
monarchic past once again. There is nothing strange in developing new
(hi)stories of the past, even if they must by necessity differ at points from
those already existing in the world of knowledge and literature of their
readership. In fact, such a development is to be expected, whether it takes
the form of a new ‘(hi)story’, or of interpretations and rewritings of ‘old
(hi)stories’. The book of Jubilees, for instance, provides a version of the past
that differs from that in Genesis; Josephus retold the biblical (hi)stories.20
Within the boundaries set by what may be called the facts about the past
that are agreed upon within a particular society or community, people can
live, and have lived, with more than one (hi)story of their own past.21
Yet in each case, one of the basic questions for research can be framed
in terms of new (hi)stories for new times, that is, new (hi)stories for new
readerships. Josephus rewrote biblical narratives for a post 70 CE, Greek-
speaking readership that probably included Greek-speaking Jews (see
Ant. 1.5, 9; 12; 16.174; 20.262),22 and he did so with Roman patronship.
Jubilees (or the Temple Scroll, for that matter) addressed a so-called sec-
tarian readership that was supposed to attach much authority to the claims
advanced by these books.
Turning to the literature of the Jerusalemite literati of the Persian
period, even without Chronicles, prophetic books and the deuteronomistic
historical books construed images of the past that at times were in ten-
sion (e.g., Josiah in Zephaniah and in Kings).23 To be sure, these literati
were certainly able to discern obvious genre differences and the corre-
sponding constraints between prophetic books and (hi)storigraphical
works such as Kings. But Samuel, Kings and Chronicles belong to the
same literary and discursive genre and all were included in the ideologi-
cally authoritative repertoire of these communities of readers. Further,
from their perspective, the book of Chronicles unequivocally presented
itself as a kind of imitation of Samuel–Kings.24 It was certainly obvious to
any reader of these books that Chronicles borrowed much of its text from
the former. Although the text never explicitly acknowledges it, the ubiqui-
tous repetition of texts carries a strong and unmistakable message.
The imitation mentioned above points to a stylistic standard that was
considered appropriate for the relevant rhetorical purpose within the
social group to which the book is aimed. Thus, the book of Chronicles
implies a readership not only aware of Samuel and particularly Kings, but
one for whom acceptable (hi)stories of the monarchic past are to be styled
in the pattern of these books. Of course, style always carries some substan-
tive meaning, and imitation implies not only acknowledgment of socio-
cultural norms, but also its reinforcement.
But even here Chronicles carried its balanced approach, in which obvi-
ous, explicit claims made somewhere in the book are set in perspective by
other claims made elsewhere in the book. On the one hand, the book
styled itself to the mentioned readers as closely related to Kings and
Samuel as possible, through an unparalleled amount of direct and explicit
textual borrowing, so as to advance its own claim for legitimacy among
them. But on the other hand, the book clearly carried a very different voice
from the one in Samuel and Kings. Just as the intended readers would have
recognized the borrowing, they would have easily recognized the consis-
tent linguistic flavor that set the book apart from the sources from which
it borrows. Chronicles, Ezra and Nehemiah all share the so-called Late
Biblical Hebrew diction; Kings and Samuel do not.25
It bears particular notice that even when the text in Chronicles is copied
almost word for word from Kings, it often includes numerous minor
linguistic, as well as stylistic and literary changes that serve to reaffirm the
characterization of the voice of its narrator (and of the implied author) as
different from that present in classical Hebrew texts,26 even if many of the
latter, at least in their present form, were also composed in the Persian
period. The result is that if the rhetorical voice of Kings carries a deu-
teronomistic, or Mosaic-like flavor, even if it does not follow the ideology
of Deuteronomy too closely,27 that of Chronicles presents itself as a much
later and as an un-classical voice; as a historiographical voice closer to the
times, accepted literary practices and circumstances of the actual commu-
nity of readers;28 but also as a voice that is well-versed in Samuel–Kings, as
well as other authoritative books (e.g., Genesis, Deuteronomy, Leviticus,
Jeremiah); as the voice of one able to study them, one in the light of the
other, and to draw conclusions from this study. Such a characterization
allows the text to shape and reflect a construction of the past that differs
from that of Kings and Samuel, without directly taking on the traditional
authority of these books, but rather the opposite: subtle co-opting it,
working in parallel to it, and at the same time undermining the sole
authority of their construction of the past among its readership.
The balance between Chronicles’ unequivocal imitation of, and dif-
ferentiation from, between the acceptance of, and the undermining of,
the authority of the collection of books comprising the deuteronomistic
(hi)story touches another point. Although Chronicles clearly resembled
and evoked the memory of that (hi)story in its readers, it included an
introduction and a conclusion very unlike those of the deuteronomistic
(hi)storical collection. Introductions and conclusions are among the most
important interpretative keys provided to a readership and as such deserve
particular notice. Chronicles is structured as a book, not as a collection of
books. It consists of a (hi)story of monarchic ‘Israel’ (or Judah) from David
to the destruction of the temple, to which a lengthy introduction (chs. 1-9)
and relatively short but most substantive conclusion (2 Chron. 36.20-23)
are added.29
The style of the preface in Chronicles is unique in biblical literature.30
To be sure, genealogies do exist in other books, and those in Chronicles
likely evoked the memory of those in Genesis, and could have suggested to
the readers that Chronicles is actually comparable to the primary (hi)story
(i.e., Genesis to 2 Kings) rather than to the deuteronomistic (hi)story. But
the extent of these genealogies and the manner in which they alone carry
the construction of a (hi)story of the world from Adam is unparalleled
elsewhere in the repertoire of books of the intended and primary reader-
ship. Similarly, the opening of Chronicles may have been evocative of that
of Exodus, but the differences are obvious. In sum, since no biblical book
begins with anything like ‘Adam, Seth, Enosh, Kenan, Mahalel, Jared…’
the readers are informed from the outset not only that the book is relevant
to the study of humanity (i.e., the ‘children of Adam’), but also that it is
unique. Just as one aspect of the introduction likely suggested to them that
Chronicles may be comparable to the primary (hi)story, or the history
from Exodus on, another aspect balances such suggestions and clearly sets
the book apart from these (hi)stories, and from Genesis and Exodus in
particular (and cf. 1 Chron. 1.1 with Gen. 1.1 and Exod. 1.1).
Of course, the introduction is not only involved in the negotiation of
the uniqueness of the book and its possible relation to other works in the
repertoire of the community, but also asks the readers to understand the
(hi)story advanced in the main body of the book (1 Chronicles 10–2
Chronicles 36) as anchored in a (hi)story of the world, and of the social
organization and composition of Israel. The obvious ideological meanings
reflected in and conveyed by a ‘universal’ history that deals for the vast part
with the (hi)story of Davidic Judah deserves a separate study that goes
beyond the limits of this paper. As for the construction of society advanced
in this introduction, we will address some aspects of it later.
What about the conclusion of Chronicles? It structured the book and
shaped its message in a manner conspicuously unlike that of Kings, or the
entire deuteronomistic (hi)story. Following the introduction (1 Chronicles
1–9), the main body of Chronicles begins with a short preface to Davidic
Judah/Israel, namely a report of the fall of Saul’s house because of its
betrayal of YHWH. The main body of the book, and the book as whole,
concludes with Cyrus, a foreign, non-Davidic king who orders the rebuild-
ing of the temple in his first year (cf. Hezekiah’s re-opening of the temple
in 2 Chron. 29.3). Thus the text moves from negatively portrayed pre-
Davidic to positively portrayed post-Davidic times. The Saulide failed
experiment led to the ascendance of David, and eventually to the climax of
the book in David’s provisions for the building of the temple (1 Chronicles
22–29);31 monarchic Judah led to the eventual destruction of the temple,
which, in turn, led to Cyrus. As the readers read the book, they move from
the process that culminated in the building of the temple to that leading to
its rebuilding.32
Another instance of the balanced approach of Chronicles becomes evi-
dent. On the one hand, the conclusion moves the (hi)story of Israel from
the desolation caused by Judah’s (/Israel’s) rejection of YHWH at the time
of Dadivic Zedekiah – which is structurally prefigured in Saul’s period – to
a restoration under the rule of a foreign king who is never construed, nor
can be construed, as the king of Judah (cf. Deut 17.15). But the message
about blurring boundaries that the readers could have abstracted from this
observation – and similar observations – is balanced with an ideological
construction of the required time that separates desolation from recon-
struction in explicitly local ideological terms, that is, around shabbatot
(seven-year periods), more specifically ten shabbatot (seventy years) of
desolation (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22).33 In addition, readers are asked to
associate this construction of that time to both (a) the text in Lev. 26.34-
35, 43 (cf. 2 Chron. 26.21), as the language of the text clearly suggests, and
(b) as the text explicitly states, the words of Jeremiah, as construed in the
book of Jeremiah (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22; cf. Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10). Thus
Chronicles concludes with an organization of the knowledge of the com-
munity of readers that develops a sense of harmony and coherence between
two texts that were considered authoritative by the intended readership/s.
Such an organization of the world of knowledge of the intended readership
is supported by many other instances of harmonization elsewhere in the
book (2 Chron. 35.13; Deut. 16.7; cf. Exod. 12.8-9).34 Just as the very exis-
tence of the book of Chronicles is positive proof of a discourse in which
more than one authoritative (hi)story about the past co-existed, even if
there were tensions among them, the very same Chronicles points to and
reflects an ideological process aimed at achieving some degree of conver-
gence among pre-existing authoritative texts. Again, the claims that the
readers of Chronicles learn from some aspects of the book are informed
and balanced by other claims they also find in Chronicles.
The same process is at work in a related area. The ubiquitous presence
of Late Biblical Hebrew language and of direct borrowings from other texts
emphatically communicated to the readers that the book is derived from
and later than these texts. But at the same time, due to the mentioned
process of harmonization and interpretation, Chronicles presents itself as
the carrier of the proper meaning of the other books. The literati must
read Chronicles to understand what the authoritative books of the
community actually mean, that is, the book communicates to its readers
that it is as authoritative or even more authoritative than the other books,
albeit in its own way.35
4. Reshaping of Memory and the Readership

New (hi)stories develop with new times. They most often do not attempt
to obliterate, but to reshape, their primary readership’s basic image of their
own past, by shifting emphases and evaluations of characters, and/or by
creating new points towards which the historical narrative moves. (Hi)sto-
ries also serve to reshape social memory, and such memory is more impor-
tant than simple (hi)story in the life of the community. By social memory I
refer here to ideological or discursive events that are considered paradig-
matic by a particular social group, and as such provide it with a frame to
understand other events.36 Social memory is quite omnipresent in the
discourse of a group, and relates to events whose lasting consequences are
conceived as defining for the character of the society that bears such a
memory.
There can be no doubt that the most important social memory in the
discourse of post-monarchic Yehud was that associated with the cycle of
exile, liberation from Egypt, the reception of divine instruction in the wil-
derness and coming back to the land. The ideological understanding of the
Babylonian exile, the myth of the ‘empty land’, the concept of ‘the return’,
the association of (ideologically) exiled Israel with the community in
Yehud,37 the construction of the wilderness as a proper location for a
necessary and positive interaction between YHWH and Israel are all
among the matters patterned according to this social memory.
Against this background it bears especial note that the ideological
centrality of Jerusalem and of the temple, which was one of most salient
and ubiquitous themes within the discourse of Persian Yehud, had no clear
anchor in an Exodus, Horeb/Sinai, Conquest/Return memory. After all,
the Pentateuch pointed to the Tabernacle, which, because of its lack of
attachment to a particular geographical location, could not serve by itself
as a foundational story for the choice of Jerusalem and for the claimed
status of its temple as the only legitimate one in YHWH’s economy. The
second most important memory is that of the patriarchal stories. Again, it
could not have served this purpose.
It is against this background that some aspects of Chronicles become
clear. Chronicles associates the tabernacle with the Yehudite and ideo-
logically Davidic temple.38 It also associates the location of the temple with
the patriarchal stories by explicitly identifying the place of the temple with
Mount Moriah. The patriarchal stories were potentially problematic since
they do not single Jerusalem out of other cultic places in Canaan; in fact, it
might have suggested that other places were more important. Chronicles
solves the problem by associating the temple and Mount Moriah (2 Chron.
3.1; and cf. Gen. 22.2).
But Chronicles does more, and in a more subtle way. Chronicles de-
familiarizes the main (hi)storical narrative. Chronicles does not include
accounts of the central ideological events associated with the main social
memory, nor relates the patriarchal stories. Further, it includes no account
of the conquest or the ‘Judges’. Instead it begins the main narrative with
the death of Saul and concludes it with Cyrus. I would like to stress,
Chronicles does not ask its readership in any possible way or manner to
construe the history of Israel without, for instance, Moses, Exodus or
Horeb, or without Joshua’s conquest.39 For the purpose of this essay it
would suffice to state that Moses and other basic elements of this main
social memory are mentioned numerous times in Chronicles.40
But Chronicles defamiliarizes the main (hi)storical narrative. Defamil-
iarization calls the attention of the readers to, and brings to the forefront,
that which was selected as the core of this new narration of the known
past. As mentioned above, the main body of Chronicles deals with the
(hi)story of Israel from the building of the temple to the rebuilding of the
temple. Moreover, the universal setting of the introduction serves to
provide even more prominence to Israel and above all to the Jerusalemite
temple, and its associated ideological constructs, such as the house of
Judah, and above all David (cf. 1 Chron. 28.4-6; 2 Chron. 6.5-6). Thus,
Chronicles’ selection is consistent with and conducive to the enlargement
of the main social memory so as to include the establishment of the temple
and the related selection of Jerusalem. Chronicles’ message on this matter
is clearly supported by its association of David with Moses as a cult foun-
ders (e.g., 2 Chron. 8.14),41 and by its association of both of them to the
establishment of the Jerusalemite temple and its rituals (cf. 2 Chron.
23.18). But this is not a one-time event, as Persian period Yehudites know
all too well. The temple had to be rebuilt, and thus Chronicles concludes
with the note leading to its rebuilding (as with David, Cyrus does not
actually rebuild the temple, but set this event in motion). In other words,
such as the Exodus from Egypt informed the construction of the ‘return’,
and the Joshua story about the establishment of Persian Yehud, so also
Chronicles communicates to its readership in various ways that David’s
foundational activities were indeed foundational, that is, created a pattern
against which the establishment, organization and ritual of the second
temple – the temple of the intended and primary readership – was to be
understood and evaluated (see 2 Chron. 6.5-7; and cf. 1 Kgs 8.16-18).
Of course, as Chronicles does so, it legitimizes the second temple, that
is, a temple that was established by, and was ultimately under the control
of a Persian king, and which, at times and for some, was controversial.
Chronicles reassured its intended readers that it was YHWH who caused
the Persian king’s actions, that the time of the rebuilding was correct and
consistent with the predictive claims of the authoritative works held by
the community and above all, that the temple is basically a Davidic temple,
because it follows the plans and regulations set by David. In other words,
the readers are told that the actual royal founder of the temple, and of the
worship that takes place in it, is not Cyrus, nor any Persian governor –
kings build temples not governors – but David.42 If the community is
ideologically organized around the divine instruction (or torah) and around
the temple, Moses and David are to be the central figures of Israel’s mem-
ory. In this sense, Chronicles complements the memory creating function
of the Pentateuch and does so on the basis of the books of Samuel and
Kings,43 while at the same time keeping a balance between legitimizing
similitude and ideological innovation.
Further, the lionization of David and the characterization of his status
as partially comparable to that of Moses44 raise an important issue. Just as
Moses’ unique role as the intermediate for YHWH in the area of giving
torah/divine teaching and the ideological construction of that divine
teaching as one that will not be replaced by another within the life of the
community demand the ideological claim that no new Moses will con-
ceivably raise up, the central claim that David set the blueprint for the
first temple and for any legitimate temple for all times makes the expecta-
tion of a new David impossible within that discourse.45 If the eternal con-
tributions of Moses and David prohibited any expectation on the part of
the community for a new Moses and a new David, still the implementation
of the ‘inheritance’ of these characters demanded the presence of people in
authority to set it in practice, within the real world. Although one may
think of characters such as Ezra, High Priests, Judahite governors ap-
pointed by the Persian center and even a Persian king fulfilling that role in
their own ways, it is worth stressing that the readers and rereaders of
Chronicles were also included among those responsible for the mainte-
nance of the proper temple, along with its rites, institutions and the like. It
is they who were told through their readings and rereadings of Chronicles
what a Davidic temple is supposed to be, and how it was supposed to be
run, along with terrifying lessons from (hi)story about what happens when
the proper temple and its rites are rejected (and, of course, on how people
are supposed to behave in accordance to the divine instruction in general).
A note: the preceding explanation for the defamiliarizing scope of
narrated events in Chronicles leaves open the question of why Chronicles
began with ‘Adam, Seth…’ and why it went beyond David’s conceptual
establishment of the temple, or perhaps Solomon’s building of the actual
temple. The answer to the first question is that the choice of temple and
Jerusalem is thus set in a world (hi)story that narrows quickly to Israel, and
to the main human character involved in the choice, just as the Exodus
and Sinai events are set in the Pentateuch within a cosmic history that nar-
rows quickly to Israel, to divine choice and to Moses. The answer to the
second question is that the book is about proper Davidic temple-building,
which from the perspective of a Second Temple community is about proper
temple rebuilding. The difference in the endings of the borrowed text,
(Kings in this case) and Chronicles, could not be larger and it directly
relates to this point. As mentioned above, the main (hi)story of Chronicles
moves from David’s temple to a Davidic temple about to be rebuilt accord-
ing to the word of YHWH through Jeremiah and by a divine intervention
mediated by Cyrus (2 Chron. 36.21-23). Such a (hi)story demands an
account of the temple being destroyed too, which in turn serves to social-
ize the community of readers through their rereading of the ways that they
should follow to avoid such a disaster happening again, while at the same
time providing hope that even if they fail, and the temple is destroyed,
after a time YHWH will return it again.46
5. A Few Observations on the Social Aspects

of the Construction of the Readers’ Past
I would like to conclude my invitation to take a new and more balanced
look at this book with a brief consideration of some features of the particu-
lar constructions of the past in Chronicles that have not always received
the attention they deserve.
The readers of Chronicles are informed and asked to take into account
in their construction of their own (hi)story that the ancestry of Judah, with
whom most Yehudites probably identified, included people of explicitly
foreign ethnic backgrounds. As Gary Knoppers has demonstrated, cases of
intermarriage involve a Canaanite, Ishmaelite, Aramean, Egyptian (twice)
and a Moabite. Further, the text includes among the Judahites ‘a number
of individuals and clans…who appear non-Israelite or only loosely related
to the Israelites in other biblical sources’.47 I would like to stress that the
readers of Chronicles are informed that a Judahite father married his
daughter to a man who was both an Egyptian and a slave, and the result
was generations of Judahites (1 Chron. 2.34-35). They are informed of
other instances in which the mother’s lineage, rather than the father’s,
defined the identity of the child, even if the father was not a slave (1 Chron.
1.50; 2.16-17). These genealogies also told the readers of a few, but impor-
tant men identified as sons of their mother, rather than of their father
(1 Chron. 2.16-17; the name Zeruiah’s husband is not mentioned at all).
They are told also of a woman who built three cities (1 Chron. 7.24), the
only case in the Hebrew Bible (even if she had a brother, who incidentally
does nothing). In addition, with respect to women, one may notice the
relatively frequent references to them as sisters, and not only as mothers
and wives.
To be sure these issues deserve a full and separate study,48 but for the
present purposes, it suffices to state the unavoidable conclusion that the
reading and rereading of these genealogies reminded these literati, again
and again, that common social (including gender and ethnic) boundaries
have, at times, been transgressed in the past, and that the results of those
transgressions might have been quite positive.
Endnotes
* Published with minor changes as ‘The Book of Chronicles: Another Look’, SR 31
(2002), pp. 261-81, and a slightly modified version of the Presidential Address delivered
at the 2002 Annual Meeting of the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies in Toronto. The
oral tone of that address has been kept. I wish to express my gratitude to SR for
allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume.
1. It is worth stressing that Spinoza then continues, ‘I do not aim at disparaging

their authority, but as they are universally received I will leave them as they are’ (TPT,
II, 10.6) and then he moves into discussing Psalms. Many pre-critical readers and
translators of scripture, of course, preceded Spinoza in his relatively low evaluation of
the book, and many readers of Chronicles after Spinoza held similar evaluations. On
the history of ancient interpretation of Chronicles, see I. Kalimi, ‘History of Interpreta-
tion: The Book of Chronicles in Jewish Tradition’, RB 105 (1998), pp. 5-41; and Chapter
12 in this volume.
It is doubtful whether Chronicles’ reception would have been the same had the
books of Samuel and Kings been lost. Given the authority usually associated with these
books, Chronicles was considered more often than not as a secondary work, to be read
and interpreted in their light. As a result, Chronicles often became a reservoir of ‘things
that were left out’ of the other, more important books (see the title of the book in the
LXX tradition: ‘Paralipomena’). To some extent, even the critical study of Chronicles
has more often than not been conducted under the light, or perhaps, under the shade
of Samuel and Kings. For instance, the latter often serve to create the main outline of
histories of Israel, to which minor details were added on the basis of Chronicles. Per-
haps more important, the book of Chronicles has often been read in a manner
governed by external texts (e.g., Samuel–Kings) rather than as a literary unit by itself.
So scholars have often divided the book into a parallel text and the non-parallel text,
despite the fact that nowhere does the book of Chronicles suggest to its intended
readership to approach it from such a perspective, that is, to read as if it was composed
to be read as a column in A. Bendavid, Parallels in the Bible (Jerusalem: Carta, 1972) or
the like.
2. For a recent volume that discusses the matter of the historicity – in contemporary
terms – of the accounts in Chronicles from a variety of perspectives see M.P. Graham,
K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238;
Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1997).
3. See also n. 1.
4. See J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel (Cleveland and New York:
Meridian Books, 1961; German original, Berlin: Reimer, 1883), pp. 203-10; W. Eichrodt,
Theology of the Old Testament (OTL; 2 vols; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967),
II, pp. 307-308, 342; R.B. Dillard, ‘Reward and Punishment in Chronicles: The Theology
of Immediate Retribution’, WTJ 46 (1984), pp. 164-72; idem, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15;
Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), pp. 76-81; J. Goldingay, ‘The Chronicler as a Theolo-
gian’, BTB 5 (1975), pp. 99-126, esp. p. 122; D.F. Murray, ‘Retribution and Revival:
Theological Theory, Religious Praxis, and the Future in Chronicles’, JSOT 88 (2000),
pp. 77-99, esp. pp. 78-80. Some of these scholars, although strongly supporting this
position have also stressed that ‘this doctrine is not worked out purely mechanically’,
see, H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans,
1982), pp. 31-33 and W. Rudolph, ‘Problems with the Books of Chronicles’, VT 4 (1954),
pp. 401-409, esp. pp. 405-406. For a through and nuanced discussion but still strongly
tilted towards this concept of coherence between human deeds and YHWH’s response
to them, see S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical
Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), p. 150, esp. pp.
165-98, and cf. S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John
Knox Press, 1993), pp. 44-45.
5. For ‘the imperative of reward and punishment’, see Japhet, Ideology, p. 163. The
term ‘retribution’ has negative connotations and unduly limits the scope of the Chroni-
cler’s theological position (see, for instance, 2 Chron. 17.1-5; 27.6). For the terminology
used here, see B.S. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia:
Fortress Press, 1979), pp. 651-53. See also Dillard, ‘Reward and Punishment’, p. 165 n. 2.
The basic theological components of this principle, including retribution without
much delay, appear in Deut. 7.9-10; cf. Ezekiel 18; 33.18-19.
6. See Chapters 6, 8 and 11 in this volume.
7. See 2 Chron. 12.1-6 (esp. 5b); 21.12-17; 24.23-24; 25.14-24; 28.3-5. For a thor-
ough discussion of the principle and examples, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 150-98.
For a critique of commonly accepted positions about this principle, see, among others,
B.E. Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology in Chronicles (JSOTSup, 211; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1996). Kelly maintains that ‘the theme of reward and punish-
ment…has its meaning not within a general theory of divine action in history, but
specifically as part of the covenantal relationship between Yahweh…and his people’
(Retribution and Eschatology, p. 106). He states that ‘the Chronicler is not concerned to
show “the systematization of history” according to divine justice [contrast with Japhet,
Ideology, pp. 156-76], nor with “rationalizing” the actions of the deity’ (Retribution and
Eschatology, p. 107), nor addresses the issue of theodicy nor ‘the origin of evil and its
final requiting’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 107). According to him, ‘the writer uses
the theme of blessing and punishment to demonstrate a much more fundamental
concern than retribution, namely, Yahweh’s mercy and restorative will towards his
sinful people’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 108; emphasis in the original). Kelly
maintains that a central message of the book is that the sins and the guilt of previous
generations ‘need not be visited upon’ the Chronicler’s community and that in ‘this
respect, the emphasis upon the “individual” character of retribution emerges as
fundamentally positive’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 109-10). See also Kelly,
‘ “Retribution” Revisited: Covenant, Grace and Restoration’, in M.P. Graham, S.L.
McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honor of
Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 206-27.
8. See, for instance, Japhet, Ideology, pp. 191-98. On divine testing, see also, E. Ben
Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People: General Considerations and Particular Observations
Regarding the Books of Chronicles and Job’, to be published in a FS edited by Duncan
Burns and John Rogerson.
9. See 1 Chron. 10.14; 11.1-3; 28.4-6; 2 Chron. 6.5-6. There are references to the
word of YHWH by the hand of Samuel (1 Chron. 11.3) and to divine choice. The text
also associates the choice of David (and of Judah) with that of Jerusalem (1 Chron. 28.4-
6; 2 Chron. 6.5-6), but nowhere is the choice of David explained in terms of a reward
for David’s actions prior to YHWH’s selection of David as king. To be sure, ‘all Israel’
mentions David’s role as army leader in Saul’s days and his being their ‘bone and flesh’
as they come to crown David as king, but these characterizations certainly do not
explain YHWH’s choice of David. The reference to their ‘bone and flesh’ applies to any
Israelite. Further, the readers of the book are neither asked nor were likely to assume
that simply being a high military officer in the service of a king is the kind of action that
corresponds to the highest possible divine blessing. In fact, such a conclusion is almost
unimaginable within that discourse. Moreover, one may mention that the text explic-
itly reminds the readers that David served Saul, who was explicitly and emphatically
evaluated as a sinful king (1 Chron. 10.13-14) in the immediate textual vicinity of the
reference to David as military leader of the people during the days of Saul.
10. See Japhet, Ideology, p. 162; and cf. Wellhausen, Prolegomena, p. 209.
11. This attestation has often been explained away as not belonging to the ‘Chroni-
cler’, since it appears in a parallel text, or due to the ‘Chronicler’s’ (that is, the actual
author of the book of Chronicles) sloppiness at the time of composing the book (that is,
he simply failed to recognize that the text he copied implied ancestral merit). Similar
claims have been made regarding other texts raising the same kind of issues. This
approach is rejected here. First, as Kalimi has clearly shown, Chronicles is not a sloppy
book, but one that carefully employs a number of sophisticated literary devices.
Second, and more importantly, if one were to argue that the actual author of the book
was frequently absent-minded, or inconsistent for no reason, still this observation
would be irrelevant for the study of the book of Chronicles as an (hi)storiographical
work, as opposed to the study of what was in the mind of the actual author of the book.
For the former, the ideology of the implied author of the book, as a whole, is of rele-
vance. The implied author of the book is constructed by the readership as they interact
with the book as an integral whole, namely a work within which texts such as 2 Chron.
21.7 are as integral to the (hi)story as any other text in Chronicles.
12. See Chapter 8 in this volume.
14. See, for instance, E. Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient
Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003).
15. See Chapter 6 in this volume
17. This raises questions concerning comparisons between the approach and
intellectual milieu of Chronicles and that expressed in Thucydides (The Peloponnesian
War 1.22). Although the latter approach is comparable to some extent to the one
reflected in particular accounts in the book, it is set in ‘proportion’ and strongly quali-
fied by the message of the Book of Chronicles as a whole. Cf. (and contrast) with the
position I advanced earlier and which is represented in Chapter 11.
18. See Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah.
19. See Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in the Teaching of Chroni-
cles’, reviewed and expanded in idem, ‘The Role of Prophecy and Prophets in the
Chronicler’s World’, forthcoming in a collection of essays about Second Temple Proph-
ecy edited by R.D. Haak and M. Floyd (eds.), Prophets, Prophecy and Prophetic Texts in
Second Temple Judaism (LHBOTS, 427; London/New York: T&T Clark, 2006), pp. 80-
101; W.M. Schniedewind, ‘The Chronicler as an Interpreter of Scripture’, in M.P.
Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and
Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 158-80.
20. G.N. Knoppers and S.L. McKenzie have recently discussed the appropriateness
of a description of Chronicles as a ‘Rewritten Bible’. See G.N. Knoppers, 1 Chronicles
1–9 (AB, 12; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2004), pp. 129-34; S.L. McKenzie, 1–2
Chronicles (Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries, Nashville: Abingdon Press,
2004), pp. 33-34. Cf. E. Ben Zvi, ‘In Conversation and Appreciation of the Recent
Commentaries by S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers’ in M.D. Knowles (ed.), ‘New
Studies in Chronicles: A Discussion of Two Recently-Published Commentaries’,
Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 5.20 (2004-2005), pp. 21-45 (31-36), available electroni-
cally at http://www.jhsonline.org and Knopper’s response in the same, pp. 74-75.
21. See Chapters 4 and 6 in this volume and E. Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits:
Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in a
Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 2003).
22. See the commentary by L.H. Feldman, in S. Mason (ed.), Flavius Josephus:
Translation and Commentary. III. Judean Antiquities 1–4 (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000), pp.
3, 378 and bibliography cited there.
23. See my ‘Josiah and the Prophetic Books: Some Observations’, in L.L. Grabbe
(ed.), Good Kings and Bad Kings (LHBOTS, 393; ESHM, 5; London: T&T Clark, 2005),
pp. 47-64.
24. On imitation in the Hebrew Bible in general and in Chronicles in particular, see
J. Van Seters, ‘Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible’, SR 29 (2000), pp. 395-409. (For a
recent work that responds to and interacts with Van Seter’s position, see C. Mitchell,
‘Transformations in Meaning: Solomon’s Accession in Chronicles’, JHS 4 [2002]
available at http://purl.org/jhs and http://www.JHSonline.org and the National Library
of Canada.)
It is worth mentioning that recently A.G. Auld has vigorously claimed that Chroni-
cles does not depend on Samuel-Kings, but these works as well as Chronicles depend
on a shared, third source. See A.G. Auld, Kings without Privilege: David and Moses in
the Story of the Bible’s Kings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994); idem, ‘What Was the Main
Source of the Books of Chronicles?’, in Graham and MacKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as
Author, pp. 91-99; idem, ‘What If the Chronicler Did Use the Deuteronomistic
History?’, in J.C. Exum (ed.), Virtual History and the Bible (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000), pp.
137-50. His position has not received much support and for a critical response see,
e.g., S.L. McKenzie, ‘The Chronicler as Redactor’, in Graham and McKenzie (eds.),
Chronicler as Author, pp. 70-90. This is not the place to evaluate Auld’s position, but
even if he were correct in this regard – which in my opinion is unlikely – the basic
argument advanced here will remain valid, since we would still be talking of a new
(hi)story/ies.
25. In fact, within a community of readers in which the books of Ezra–Nehemiah
and Chronicles were accepted as authoritative, this triad was likely to suggest a second
collection of historical works, comparable to some degree to that of the deuteronomis-
tic or primary history, but much later. I am convinced, however, that the book of
Chronicles was not composed by the same person or group responsible for Ezra-
Nehemiah. (One may note, among others, the differences on matters of intermarriage,
the absence of the concept of ‫‘ זרע הקדש‬holy seed’ [Ezra 9.2; cf. Neh. 9.1-2].)
26. See, for instance, S. Japhet, ‘Interchanges of Verbal Roots in Parallel Texts in
Chronicles’, Lesh 31 (1967), pp. 65-179. For a study of stylistic and literary changes see
esp. I. Kalimi, Book of Chronicles: Historical Writing and Literary Devices, now repub-
lished in a revised version as I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in
Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005). On the phenomenon of Late Biblical
Hebrew one may add now Ian Young (ed.), Biblical Hebrew: Studies in Chronology and
Typology (London/New York: T&T Clark, 2003).
27. See G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rethinking the Relationship between Deuteronomy and the
Deuteronomistic History: The Case of Kings’, CBQ 63 (2001), pp. 393-415.
28. See K.G. Hoglund , ‘The Chronicler as a Historian: A Comparativist Perspec-
tive’, in Graham, Hoglund and McKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Historian, pp. 19-29,
esp. p. 29.
29. The claim that the conclusion is ‘a very late editorial gloss’ (e.g., S.J. de Vries,
1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 13-14, 424) is
problematic and in any case irrelevant to the discussion here, since it deals with the
ancient readings of the book of Chronicles as we know it, not of any hypothetical
forerunner of the book. On the importance of the ending of the book and about its role
as an interpretative key for the understanding of Chronicles’ message, see Chapter 10
and cf. J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998), and
I. Kalimi, An Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, his Time, Place and
Writing (SSN, 46; Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2005), pp. 145-57.
30. The importance of genealogies in ancient Greek historiography is well known.
Yet, contrary to Greek historiography, but consistent with typical Hebrew Bible style,
the author of Chronicles remains anonymous. I wrote elsewhere on the phenomenon
of self-effacing authors in Yehud, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud? Some
Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspec-
tives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-
48.
31. Cf. D.J. Estes, ‘Metaphorical Sojourning in 1 Chronicles 29:15’, CBQ 53 (1991),
pp. 45-49; J.M. Trotter, ‘Reading, Readers and Reading Readers Reading the Account of
Saul’s Death in 1 Chronicles 10’, in Graham and McKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Author,
pp. 294-310, esp. pp. 299-310.
32. This is not to deny that within the intellectual milieu within which the book of
Chronicles was composed and first read the rebuilt community and temple were not
identified as the absolute fulfillment of the ideal period. See Chapter 10.
33. On the construction of time in Chronicles, see Chapter 7 in this volume.
34. M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1988), passim, Schniedewind, ‘Chronicler as an Interpreter of Scripture’, pp. 169-71);
I.L. Seeligmann, ‘The Beginnings of Midrash in the Books of Chronicles’, Tarbiz 49
(1979/80), pp. 14-32; and recently, E. Ben Zvi, ‘Revisiting “Boiling in Fire” in 2 Chr
35:13 and Related Passover Questions: Text, Exegetical Needs and Concerns, and
General Implications’, in I. Kalimi and P.J. Haas (eds.), Biblical Interpretation in Juda-
ism and Christianity (LHBOTS; London: T&T Clark, 2006).
35. It is worth stressing that each time Chronicles brings coherence to, or blends
together, existing authoritative texts that stood in some tension, the book is providing
its readership with a new text that actually follows none of the preceding texts. See, for
instance, G.N. Knoppers, ‘Hierodules, Priests, or Janitors? The Levites in Chronicles
and the History of the Israelite Priesthood’, JBL 118 (1999), pp. 49-72; cf. Seeligmann,
‘Beginnings of Midrash’.
36. See G.M. Spiegel, ‘Memory and History: Liturgical Time and Historical Time’,
History and Theory 41 (2002), pp. 149-62.
37. E. Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the
Term “Israel” in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy
(eds.), The Pitcher Is Broken: Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190;
Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), pp. 95-149; idem, ‘What Is New in Yehud?’.
38. See J. Van Seters, ‘The Chronicler’s Account of Solomon’s Temple Building: A
Continuity Theme’, in Graham, Hoglund and McKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Historian,
pp. 283-300, esp. p. 293.
39. See Chapter 4 in this volume and Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits’.
40. For Moses see 1 Chron. 6.34; 15.15; 21.29; 22.13; 23.15; 26.24; 2 Chron. 1.3; 5.10;
8.13; 23.18; 24.6, 9; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14; 35.6, 12. He is explicitly associated with
the Exodus and the Horeb covenant (2 Chron. 5.10), Israel’s stay in the wilderness
(1 Chron. 21.29; 2 Chron. 24.9), the ‘Tent of Meeting’ (2 Chron. 1.3), the tabernacle
(1 Chron. 21.29), Aaron and implicitly with Israel’s worship in the wilderness (1 Chron.
6.34), the cultic regulations for the three main festivals (2 Chron. 8.13) and with torah
or the Book of Torah or the word of YHWH in his hand (2 Chron. 23.18; 25.4; 30.16;
33.8; 34.14; 35.6, 12). On these matters see Chapter 4.
41. Cf. S.J. de Vries, ‘Moses and David as Cult Founders in Chronicles’, JBL 107
(1988), pp. 619-39; J.W. Kleining, ‘The Divine Institution of the Lord’s Song in
Chronicles’, JSOT 55 (1992), pp. 75-83; Schniedewind, ‘Chronicler as an Interpreter’,
pp. 177-78.
42. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud?’
43. See de Vries, ‘Moses and David’.
44. See de Vries, ‘Moses and David’.
45. The same does not hold necessary true for the hope of a Davidic king – to be
sharply differentiated from that of a ‘new David’. It is likely that if such a ‘Davidic king’
was hoped for, then he was conceptualized in terms closer to that of an Ezekielian ‫נשי‬
(chief, minor king) or an archon subject to a friendly (and divinely guided) Persian
hegemony than an independent, strong monarch. See the excursus in Chapter 11 of
this volume.
Needless to say, this approach stands in contrast with the ‘royalist’ or ‘monarchist’
approach to Chronicles. See, for instance, D.N. Freedman, ‘The Chronicler’s Purpose’,
CBQ 23 (1961), pp. 436-42; Schniedewind, ‘Chronicler as an Interpreter’, pp. 158-59.
But one has to keep in mind that the work of the ‘Chronicler’ about which Freedman
and others ‘royalists’ comment is substantially different from the book of Chronicles
as we know it. The latter is the text being studied in this paper.
46. There are numerous other observations that follow under the rubric of ‘reshap-
ing the memory of the intended readership’, and even more about that of ‘reshaping an
accepted (hi)story’. For the present purposes it would suffice to briefly point to two
examples I have discussed at length elsewhere. An emphasis on ‘memory’ and on
‘paradigms’ explains, for instance, a description of the House of Omri in Chronicles in
which Omri is mentioned neither as king nor as founder of the dynasty, but which
creates a story of a paradigmatic ‘House of Ahab’ that served as a quasi-mythical
symbol of the potentially fatal lure evildoers may hold for the readers of the book, even
if they are the pious, and of the potential dangers of associating with them (see E. Ben
Zvi, ‘The House of Omri/Ahab in Chronicles’, paper distributed at the 2001 meeting
of the European Seminar on Methodology in Israel’s History; to be published as
L.L. Grabbe (ed.), Ahab Agonistes: The Rise and Fall of the Omri Dynasty (LHBOTS;
ESHM; London: T&T Clark, forthcoming). Re-writing (hi)story to be read and reread
again and again raises the issue of the degree of malleability in the readership’s
discourse/s, and serves to identify sets of core facts about the past that were agreed
upon by the community of literati and were beyond any malleability. These facts,
include a number of different issues, from Adam as the first human, to Moses’ role, to
Solomon building the temple, to the lists of kings of Judah, to the length of the reign of
each of these kings, to the existence of the northern and basic overview of the (hi)story
of the Northern Kingdom (see Chapter 4 in this volume). These sets of agreed-upon
fact provide an excellent resource for understanding the world of knowledge of the
communities of literati among whom and for whom the book of Chronicles was
written. All these issues require a separate discussion, to which I have contributed in
other contexts.
47. G.N. Knoppers, ‘Intermarriage, Social Complexity and Ethnic Diversity in the
Genealogy of Judah’, JBL 120 (2001), pp. 15-30 (23).
48. Antje Labahan and I have discussed aspects of the characterization of women
in the genealogies of Chronicles elsewhere. See Chapter 9 in this volume.
Part II
CHRONICLES AND THE REREADING AND WRITING
OF A DIDACTIC, SOCIALIZING HISTORY
Chapter 3
OBSERVATIONS ON ANCIENT MODES OF READING OF CHRONICLES

AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS, WITH AN ILLUSTRATION OF THEIR
EXPLANATORY POWER FOR THE STUDY OF THE ACCOUNT OF
AMAZIAH (2 CHRONICLES 25)
1. General Considerations
How did ancient readers and rereaders of the book approach this histo-
riographical book? In which ways did they read it? Which reading strate-
gies played prominent roles in these literati’s reading of the book, and
particularly in relation to which passages? These types of questions are
crucial for an understanding of the message of the book and the signifi-
cance of its narrative subunits as they were construed by these ancient
literati. Moreover, explorations of these questions bear clear implications
for the study of genre attributes and genre expectations of historiographical
works that existed within the circles that accepted the book of Chronicles
as an authoritative book. This contribution advances some observations on
these matters and then illustrates how they inform the study of particular
accounts or sections of accounts within the historical milieu in which and
for which they were composed by dealing with particular elements of the
report of Amaziah’s reign.
It must be said from the outset that full, definitive, unequivocal answers
to the opening questions cannot be achieved easily, if at all. This being
said, preliminary considerations and observations that are limited to
some narrow issues can be very helpful. For instance, heuristic models
that assume that the ancient literati approached the book of Chronicles,
through all their rereadings,1 with one single and ‘pure’ reading strategy
are most likely to be misleading and unnecessarily restrictive. For instance,
one can identify safely particular types of strategies of reading that played
a prominent role in the way in which the book of Chronicles and its
accounts were read, and why they were read, read to others, and studied.
Given the social and socializing roles fulfilled by authoritative books in
ancient Israel in general,2 and the clear didactic tone of Chronicles, one
3. Observations on Ancient Modes of Reading of Chronicles 45
can assume confidently that the ancient literati emphasized in their read-
ings questions such as what is the point of the story? Why is it told? What
does it say about us (i.e., the ancient community of readers) and about our
behavior? In other words, these communities of readers approached the
book and its subunits with point-driven strategies. This observation, how-
ever, should not be understood as implying that these readers could not or
did not find pleasure in their reading, or that they thought that the implied
author did not attempt to create good and memorable stories with strong
characters and plot development, or that esthetically pleasant puns on
words do not appear,3 or for that matter that they lacked antiquarian inter-
ests. There is no reason at all to assume that the readers of the book were
asked to or did approach the book as a whole or its different subunits with
one single-minded reading strategy. Further, since they reread the book
numerous times and most likely read it to others unable to read by them-
selves under different settings and circumstances, sets of readings instead
of a single reading were produced. One has to take into account also the
large variety of literary genres evoked or embedded in the book, and the
fact that not even narrative accounts had to be approached all the time
from exactly the same reading strategy.
To be sure, these considerations point at the vast complexity of issues
associated with historical reconstructions of reading strategies among the
literati who read the book of Chronicles in Persian Yehud.4 It is the con-
tention of this contribution that notwithstanding these matters, some
heuristically helpful observations regarding some aspects of these reading
strategies can be advanced.
First, since the book was successful, that is, it was accepted by its pri-
mary readerships, one may assume that there is at least some degree of
overlap between the intended readership of the book and its primary
readerships.5 Thus, one is to assume that basic claims explicitly advanced
by the book, including those about its own authority, were by large ac-
cepted by at least some primary readership/s in Yehud.6 Second, ancient
readerships did not read texts that they considered authoritative against
the grain. In other words, readers of authoritative books imagined them-
selves as following the communicative wishes of the author as they thought
them to be, and of course, those of other authoritative voices (such as
YHWH) that were from their perspective faithfully embedded in the text.
This being so, for instance, if or when they bracketed out or ignored some
information, or chose to read some sections within reading approaches
that did not take some data at face value, they had to think that the author
of the book (and other authoritative voices embedded in the book) allowed
or even more likely asked them to do so. Of course, this was not neces-
sarily or even likely a self-reflective, critically-aware process. From their
perspective, they were simply reading the true meaning/s of the text.7
From the perspective of a historical analysis of the likely reading strategies
of the primary readership (and intended readership) of the book of Chroni-
cles, however, these considerations carry important implications. Third,
there were sociological reasons for and mechanisms meant to maintain the
existence of truthful, valid meanings that the intended and primary reader-
ships associated with the authoritative book. Certainly, from the perspec-
tive of the intended readership, and any readership that resemble it,
unequivocal statements in the text could not be simply tossed out as
nonsensical within the world of the book, but had to be interpreted by
‘competent’ readers as pointing to some valid truth. As mentioned above,
that truth was considered to be the real communicative intention of the
author and other authoritative voices faithfully reported by the author. In
fact, the book itself was considered authoritative because it was read as
conveying these truths. Fourth, recent studies of Chronicles, and in par-
ticular those by Kalimi, have emphasized the carefully crafted wording of
Chronicles.8 The intended and associated primary readerships were
supposed to be aware of that feature, and accordingly, imagine the Chroni-
cler as one who masterfully conveyed meanings by careful choices of words
and expressions. This being the case, the latter could not be dismissed by
these readerships as irrelevant as soon as they raise some possible tension.
Instead, they should be interpreted.
G. Rusch summarized his position concerning the concept of under-
standing in literature in general as follows: ‘Understanding means to meet
the interactive/communicative expectations of a communicator’. 9 In the
case of the ancient readers of Chronicles, this communicator was the
implied author of the book (hereafter, ‘the Chronicler’) who spoke to them
as it were from the book as they read and reread it, and whose voice is
authoritative by itself and as such not only faithfully carries other authori-
tative voices, but is deeply interwoven with them. This being the case, for
the purpose of advancing historical reconstructions of the likely ways in
which the book of Chronicles was read by ancient readers in Yehud, it is
necessary to focus on the communicative wishes of the Chronicler as
construed by the intended and at least some primary readership. It is this
construction of communicative wishes that served for them as a central,
crucial key in their choice of reading strategies.10 After all, these strategies
had to be conceived as faithful to the Chronicler’s intention.
How did ancient readers construct the communicative intentions of the
Chronicler? Most likely on the basis of both (a) markers in the text and
(b) their world of knowledge, including, among many others, their ideo-
logical perspectives, social memories, expectations about the literary genre
of the book or some of its embedded units, and claims of other authori-
tative texts in their repertoire. The variety and number of textual markers
in Chronicles, the wide range of issues and concepts covered under the
term world of knowledge, and all the possible interactions between the
textual markers and world of knowledge necessitates that the scope of this
study be limited to manageable, yet heuristically promising, narrow
matters.
This contribution addresses a particular subset that is characterized by
two features:
First, it is well grounded on a significant variety of unequivocal textual
markers that are present in a substantial number of texts and on unambi-
guous aspects of the literati’s world of knowledge.
Second, his subset suggested to the intended readership of the book,
and to any ancient primary readership that resembles it in a substantial
way, that the Chronicler was not attempting to convey an image of a past
that was correct in detailed fashion or had to be taken at face value. Instead
it informed that as they read the relevant passages in the book, they should
set aside or bracket out considerations based on narrowly understood
historical referentiality.
The first point contributes substantially to the strength of the argument
advanced here. The second point raises important issues for the study of
ancient Israelite historiography in general and Chronicles’ historiography
in particular. It has to be stressed from the outset that the Chronicler
always presents himself11 and was always construed by his intended read-
ership and similar primary readerships as someone who was interested in,
and who communicated a true image of the past. The question is, of course,
in which sense was this image to be taken as true by the readership?12 The
analysis that follows indicates that (a) in numerous cases this truthfulness
did not involve full ‘factual accuracy’; (b) the text unequivocally made the
readership aware that this was the case; and therefore, (c) competent read-
ers of the book in antiquity were made fully aware that they should not
read certain passages of this authoritative, historiographical book with an
expectation of historical accuracy in a narrow sense; and finally (d) the
incongruence of the text in these cases at one possible level of reading
draws the attention of the readers of the book and instills, from their per-
spective, the meaning of that text at other levels with additional signifi-
cance.13 It is to be stressed that (d) holds true whether the actual author
willfully intended to create incongruence in the text from the very outset
or not. This being said, it is unreasonable to assume that authorships would

always be unaware of the rhetorical effect of incongruence on the reader-
ships of their works.
2. The Data and its Implications

2.1. Introduction
The ancient readers were confronted throughout Chronicles with numer-
ous passages that if approached with a reading strategy governed by
assumptions based on purely historical or referential standpoints were
either (a) mutually exclusive or (b) plainly absurd. Certainly, the Chroni-
cler did not intend readers to throw away these passages as nonsensical,
nor to consider them untruthful. Most significantly, contrary to the
tendency in some later sources (e.g., Josephus, LXX Chronicles, Targum) in
which some of these troublesome cases were solved, at least partially,
nothing of the kind is noticeable in the text of Chronicles as is, which is, of
course, the one being read by its intended readership, and on whose bases
they were supposed to understand the true message of the Chronicler.
To be sure, these cases may be explained away in some way or another,
though at times it is not always easy or even plausible to do so. Moreover,
examples discussed in the following sections, although illustrative, raise
the matter of their cumulative weight, particularly given not only the num-
ber, salience and diversity of these instances. Rather than being as sepa-
rate, peripheral or marginal, these instances when taken together provide
interpretative keys that can be used elsewhere in the study of Chronicles
within its primary historical setting.
2.2. The Case of the Person with Two Mothers

The readers of the book were emphatically told in 2 Chron. 11.21-22 that
the mother of Abijah was Maacah, the daughter of Absalom. In fact, accord-
ing to the text, Abijah became the chosen successor of Rehoboam and
future king, because of the latter’s love for Maacah.14 The same readers
were informed in 2 Chron. 13.2 that Abijah’s mother was Micaiahu the
daughter of Uriel of Gibeah. The intended and similar primary, ancient
readerships of the book (hereafter, ‘primary readerships’, for the sake of
simplicity) were asked to identify this woman by the cumulative evidence
of her name and her patronym as different from Maacah, the daughter of
Absalom.15
Are we supposed to believe that the primary readerships of Chronicles
were asked to think, and actually accepted the proposition that Abijah had
two biological mothers? Or that he was born to a servant woman and

adopted by her mother? None of these options is remotely likely. But it is
as unlikely that the primary readerships interpreted the text they read as
asking them to assume that the two were one. Had this been the case, then
why would the Chronicler refer to the same woman by two different names
and two different patronyms and would have seemingly purposefully devi-
ated from his source in 2 Kgs 15.2 so as to create the two mothers’ case to
begin with?
To be sure, modern scholars have attempted to solve the perceived ten-
sion between the two texts. Such attempts are, however, irrelevant for
studies of the most likely reading of the intended readership of the book as
is. For instance, claims that the text in 2 Chron. 13.2 is in (historical) ‘error’
are beside the point in this context, 16 because the book does not claim to
be in historical error, nor is it likely that the Chronicler was conceived by
the primary readerships as an authoritative voice asking its readers to take
its words, or some of them as historical errors.17 The same holds true for
proposals based on textual emendations.18 No matter what the circum-
stances were that might have led to the present text of Chronicles, this text
was read, and reread and studied within some groups of ancient literati.
For these readers, and certainly the intended or ideal readership of this
text the latter was meaningful. Moreover, it is on the basis of this text that
these ancient readers were asked to, and did construe their image of the
implied author or communicator.
It is worth stressing that the presence of what for us would be a glaring
contradiction between two reports in the text does not lead to any attempts
within the text to alleviate matters.19 The issue is ignored completely in the
text. The primary readerships had to conclude that the Chronicler did not
see a problem here and that he wished them to approach the text in the
same manner.20 In other words, they were supposed to bracket out the
tension between the two texts and accordingly, develop a strategy of read-
ing that did not include the question of ‘how can it be that a person has
two mothers?’ Instead they were supposed to focus on the meaning con-
veyed by the association of Abijah and particularly Rehoboam to Absalom
within the context of 2 Chronicles 11 on the one hand,21 and that of Abijah
with the area of Benjamin within the context of 2 Chronicles 13.22
It bears notice that attempts to erase the differentiation clearly advanced
by the text between these two women, as in Josephus23 and in modern
research,24 are born out of the requirements of a very different mode of
reading, one that assumes detailed referentiality and, therefore cannot
allow the textual and literary ‘inconsistency’ to stay, because from that
viewpoint it would have led to an impossible inconsistency in the referent,

namely, ‘the real world’. But this mode of reading was not at work in this
section of Chronicles insofar as it concerns the primary readerships, nor
seems to have influenced in any way the redactional history of the Hebrew
version of Chronicles.
2.3. Two Cases of Removing and Not Removing the Bamot

The primary readerships of the book are told unequivocally, not once but
twice, that Asa removed the bamot (2 Chron. 14.2, 4), but they are also
told that he did not (2 Chron. 15.17). Significantly, a text meant to con-
vince its intended readers of its truth value does nothing to alleviate the
supposed tension between all these statements.25
The case of Asa’s removal and non-removal of the bamot is not unique
in Chronicles. Jehoshaphat, Asa’s pious son, is also characterized as some-
one who removed and did not remove the bamot, and also in this case
there is no attempt to lessen the tension between the two statements (see
2 Chron. 17.6; 20.33).
It is very unlikely that the primary readerships learned from these types
of statements that the Chronicler was confused or nonsensical, or that
they should ignore them altogether.26 It is far more likely that they saw
here an indication that in these instances they were not supposed to
approach the text with questions such as how can a person both remove
and not remove the bamot.27 In other words, in these cases, questions of
detailed historicity were again to be bracketed out, so as to allow the text
to convey better its true meanings to its primary readerships. These mean-
ings may have included, for instance, that these readerships were supposed
to learn that (a) true cultic reforms should not be imagined as excluding
the removal of bamot,28 (b) there was strong undercurrent of popular,
improper, cultic behavior during the monarchic period, even under kings
whose deeds were pious (see 2 Chron. 15.7; 20.33; 33.17), and (c) the
reforms of Hezekiah29 and Josiah were in some ways incomparable with
other reforms.30
2.4. The Case of Cultic Reforms at Seemingly Unlikely Times

According to 2 Chron. 14.2-4, Asa purged the kingdom of foreign altars,
pillars, asherim, bamot, and hammanim. Of course, the world of knowl-
edge of the primary readerships includes that none of these items can be
removed if they did not exist to begin with. But the Chronicler makes it
impossible for them to assume that the five, and certainly foreign altars
existed in Judah and were condoned during Abijah’s reign,31 or that Asa
installed them early in his reign, just before he removed them. This is so
because Abijah and Asa up to his thirty-fifth year are characterized in the
book as pious and as recipients of divine blessing.
To be sure, had the primary readerships approached the account of Asa
with questions such as why did Asa launch such a vast purge following the
reign of pious Abijah when there was no need for such measure, or how
can it be that this king removed and did not remove the bamot, they would
have understood the account to be senseless, just as Welhausen and others
who followed this mode of reading have actually done.32 However, it is very
unlikely that such was the strategy of reading taken by these ancient
readerships or that they thought that the Chronicler was just sputtering
nonsense, or got confused
It is far more likely that they thought that the Chronicler asked them to
approach the text from another perspective, namely one that bracketed
out questions of narrow historical referentiality and focused on ideological
and typological messages. Among the latter, one may mention that good
kings of the past have been imagined not only as builders of cities, for-
tifications, armies, or the like, but also and mainly as reformers or, better,
restorers of cultic purity in their realm. If the intention of the Chronicler
in the relevant passages concerning Asa is understood in this way, then
several other issues become clear. For instance, the Chronicler built up
the characterization of Asa as a pious reformer that existed within the
discourses and world of knowledge of the primary readerships,33 and
appropriated, reshaped, elaborated and above all augmented that image in
the social memory, up to the point of turning the king into a kind of proto,
but failed Hezekiah.34 Rhetorical and ideological needs related to the
contrast between the nascent and illegitimate kingdom of Israel, which has
been recently created in the narrative world of Chronicles, and the legiti-
mate, Davidic kingdom of Judah played a role in the tendency in Chroni-
cles to shape a comparatively positive image of Judah and its first kings,
while at the same time abiding by the constraints of the world of knowl-
edge of the readership and the historical ideology of Chronicles.35
In sum, the text was not meaningless but abundant in meaning. Simply,
it was not supposed to be read within a narrow referential mode. The
readers were alerted that such was the case by clear textual, namely the
text states that the bamot were removed and that they were not, and
contextual markers, the relation between the reigns of Abijah and the
beginning of the reign of Asa.
Significantly, these contextual markers do not have to encompass two
different regnal accounts. The report about the reign of Asa informed its
primary readerships that Asa led two cultic purges/reforms. The first is
associated with the beginning of his reign and led to a period of blessing
and peace (2 Chron. 14.1-6), which was, however, interrupted by the
invasion of Zerah the Cushite. Following Asa’s success in the war and the
words of Azariah, the son of Oded, the king initiated a second cultic purge,
which again led to a period of peace (see 2 Chron. 15.8-17), which in turn
led once more to a foreign invasion.36 Nothing in the text suggests that the
primary readerships were supposed to approach the book with the
question of how could it be that the pious and blessed king of 2 Chronicles
14 left the ‫ שקוצים‬that later on were removed by the same king (2 Chron.
15.8). Certainly, they were not asked to associate the existence of ‫שקוצים‬
with a pious king such as Asa of ch. 14, or to imagine obviously positive
cultic reforms that spared their existence. From the perspective of the pri-
mary readerships, competent readers of the book were not supposed to
raise these questions, which by necessity lead to absurd conclusions. After
all, the Chronicler could not have written the text to convey nonsense. In
other words, the two reforms of Asa serve, among others, as a contextual
marker informing the readerships that they should not read the book in a
way governed by an assumption of detailed referentiality and its associated
logic.37 Of course, it had to be written to convey truthful meanings, but its
didactical intentions were somewhere else, for instance, among many
others, about teaching the primary readerships about the behavior required
of a good king, the importance of prophets calling people to YHWH and
the proper response to them, matters of divine testing of the pious,38 and
comparisons between Asa, Hezekiah and Josiah, all of whom led reforms
that were followed by foreign invasions.
It is worth noting that cases of cultic reforms at seemingly unlikely
times are not restricted to one particular account, that of Asa. The case of
this king’s purge following the reign of pious Abijah is reminiscent to some
extent of Josiah’s. Given that the reign of Josiah directly follows the pious
late period of Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.12-17) and the short reign of Amon,
a reading approach using logic based on narrowly understood referential-
ity would have required that the latter be construed as a major counter-
reformer, in the mold of Ahaz or Manasseh in his first period, but nothing
of the sort occurs in Chronicles, which allocates only five verses to his
reign.39
Similar considerations apply to Josiah’s command to the Levites ‫תנו‬
‫את־ארון־הקדש בבית אשר בנה שלמה בן־דויד מלך ישראל אין־לכם משא בכתף‬
(‘place the holy ark in the house that Solomon, the son of David, king of
Israel, built; you need no longer carry it on your shoulder’; 2 Chron. 35.3).
The intended readers are nowhere asked to concern themselves with

questions such as when and who removed the ark from the temple – in
itself an important cultic item. In fact, the text makes it almost impossible
to deal with these matters, since it would have been very difficult for the
primary readerships of Chronicles to assume that the ark was not in the
temple during the late years of Manasseh’s reign and nothing suggests that
Amon removed it (see above).40 Instead of paying attention to these ques-
tions of narrow factual mimesis, they were asked read the text within a
mode that sought meaning in, for instance, the relationship created by the
text between the deeds and words of Josiah and Solomon (2 Chron. 6.10-
11) and the implications of this relationship, since neither the temple nor
the dynasty were to last long after Josiah’s death.
2.5. Cases Involving Time or Temporal Relations

2.5.1. Genealogical time expands and contracts. I discussed ‘time’ in Chroni-
cles elsewhere.41 For the purposes of this essay, it suffices to draw attention
to a few clearly stated facts in the narrative of Chronicles. The primary
readerships were informed by 1 Chron. 29.22 that Zadok was the priest
at the time of David and the person who was anointed as priest when
Solomon was anointed as ‫נגיד‬.42 They were also informed in 1 Chronicles
543 that this Zadok was the father of Ahimaaz, who was the father of
Azariah, who was the father of Johanan, who in turn was the father of
Azariah who served as priest in the house that Solomon built in Jerusalem
(1 Chron. 5.34-36).44 In other words, the Chronicler told them that there
were five generations of priests during the Solomonic period. This data
stands in sharp contrast with the four generations of priests in Chronicles
that occupied the time from Solomonic Azariah to the reform of Josiah,
that is, well over 300 years within the Chronicler’s own sequential time.45
Were the primary readerships of the book supposed to assume that the
Chronicler wished for them to learn from this seemingly factual observa-
tion that priests were blessed with longer lives following the death of
Solomon and until the reform of Josiah? Of course, this is not the case.
Such an approach would have been considered absurd. This being so, one
has to conclude that the primary readerships could not have grasped the
intention of the Chronicles as an attempt to communicate narrow histori-
cal referentiality. In other words, they could not have approached this
particular aspect of the text within a strategy of reading that raises these
types of questions. Instead they most likely understood genealogical density
as a literary and ideological device meant to create a sense of time expan-
sion, that for the intended and primary readerships was directly associated
with the Solomonic period and the beginning of the temple, that is, crucial
times in the history of Israel shaped and communicated by the book.46
2.5.2. Too little or too much time. Cases of seemingly problematic tempo-
rality in Chronicles are not restricted to genealogical lists. 2 Chronicles
13.21 clearly suggested to the primary readerships that Abijah married his
fourteen wives and fathered twenty-two sons and sixteen daughters when
he was king.47 But he reigned only for three years (2 Chron. 13.2). The
message of the text was most likely understood in terms of the use of the
motif of multiple progeny as marker of blessing, which within the text is
presented as a divine response to Abijah’s pious deeds as king. There are
no hints in the text that either the authorship or the primary readerships
were concerned about or even raised the problematic logistics of the
matter.48
To be sure, perhaps one might argue that the last example could have
been understood by the primary readerships in terms of a miraculous divine
action, in which case from their perspective it would have pointed at factual
referentiality. Whatever the merits of such a proposal, the same cannot be
said of the following example. Kalimi has emphasized and demonstrated
the use of literary proximity to convey a sense of chronological proximity
in the book of Chronicles.49 One of the most obvious cases of literary-
chronological proximity involves the reform of Josiah and the campaign
of Pharaoh Necho (2 Chron. 35.19-20).50 Chronicles neither attempts to
conceal nor can conceal from its readers that the confrontation between
Necho and Josiah that resulted in the latter’s death must take place in
absolute referential time by the king’s last regnal year, that is his thirty-
first year (2 Chron. 34.1). At the same time, the narrative about Josiah in
Chronicles clearly associates his disobedience and death with the after-
math of his cultic purge, that is, with his eighteenth year (2 Chron. 35.19-
20). The primary readerships are asked to approach the text from a
point-driven reading strategy that aims at uncovering the ‘real meaning’
of the events described in the narrative and which focuses on, among
others, an implicit comparison between Hezekiah and Josiah along with
its ideological implications,51 and the ubiquitous motif of divine testing of
pious kings.52 It is not that these readerships did not know that the two
events are separated by more than ten years, but they were supposed to
bracket out that knowledge so as to grasp the true message of the text.
From this perspective, raising the matter of the thirteen chronological
years between the reform and Josiah’s death would be not only irrelevant
but positive proof of a lack of reading competence.
2.5.3. Speeches and seemingly problematic temporal circumstances. Brack-

eting and not bracketing off. Ancient readers within the primary readerships
of Chronicles would have also showed their lack of reading competence if
they had asked questions such as why the voice, style and viewpoint of
numerous speakers in the book closely resembled those of the narrator? Or
how did the Chronicler know the exact words he placed in the mouths of
speakers at crucial moments in the narratives? In fact, there was most likely
an awareness that historians wrote the speeches that central characters
were expected to deliver under specific circumstances.53 This being so, it is
particularly interesting for the present purposes that at times the words of a
godly speaker within the book of Chronicles seem on the surface more than
a bit out of place within the purported historical context in which they are
placed, if either the context or the speech or both are understood in terms
of narrowly understood referentiality.
To illustrate, the referent of the review and construction of the past in
Azariah’s speech in 2 Chron. 15.3-654 cannot be the aftermath of Asa’s
glorious victory over Zerah – which is described in superlative terms in
Chronicles – or the celebrated peaceful period that immediately preceded
it, or, for that matter, the regnal periods of Abijah, Rehoboam (for the
most part – under whom, in any case, there were priests and the like),
Solomon or David. But there is little reason for the addressees in the world
of the book (i.e., Asa and his people) to skip all these periods just to recall
in their minds the background of the period of the Judges,55 or to associate
this particular review of the past with northern Israel only,56 or to under-
stand it as reflecting future (eschatological?) times.
In fact, even from the perspective of the primary readerships that brack-
eted off the circumstances of the speech within the world of the book, the
referent/s of the text resist unequivocal identification. To be sure, some
aspects of the text may have suggested to them that Azariah referred to the
period of the Judges (see v. 4) and that this is what the Chronicler wanted
to convey. But other aspects and explicit word choices (cf. v. 5a with Zech.
8.10) in the text pointed in a different direction. Moreover, they were
aware that the Chronicler does not mention the period of Judges elsewhere
in the book. Similarly, there was no reason for them to conclude that the
Chronicler wanted them to understand Azariah’s words as referring un-
equivocally to future (eschatological?) circumstances.
The plain fact is that the text remained open to more than one partial
association with a particular period whereas at the same time conveying an
ideological truth. In other words, the text was conveying a non-contingent
truth. The primary readerships of the book understood that the words of
Azariah were meant to educate Asa and his people, as well as themselves of
an ideological, non-contingent truth that applies to all, through all time,
including, of course, Asa’s and the primary readerships’ days. This being
so, it is worth noticing that this truth is shaped around and based on
textual references to other authoritative books in the literati’s repertoire,57
but which were not necessarily known to Asa. Narrowly understood
questions of factual accuracy such as ‘did Asa know the precise text of
Zech. 8.10?’ had to be bracketed off again, to let the text and the Chroni-
cler convey its message.58
Even as certain questions of historical referentiality had to be bracketed
off and even as the mentioned truth was understood as non-contingent and
applying equally to Asa’s and to the primary readerships’ days, the explicit
(hi)storical association of the message of Azariah with Asa in the world of
the book was certainly meaningful and could not be ignored. The fact that
such a godly message was reported as having been communicated by a true
prophet to Asa and the people of his generation, along with the explicit
account about their positive response to this truth, contributes much to the
positive characterization of Asa as a major pious king.59 This ideological
role is emphasized by the very choice of the name of the prophet, i.e.,
Azariah, which is more than a simple pun on Asa’s words in 2 Chron. 14.10
‫‘( יהוה אין־עמך לעזור בין רב לאין כח עזרנו יהוה אלהינו כי־עליך נשענו‬there is
no difference for you between helping the mighty and the weak. Help us,
YHWH, our God, for we rely on you’). The particular name of the prophet
serves to shape a tight link between Asa’s request of help (14.10) from the
divine and the divinely ordained presence of a prophet, whose name
(Azariahu) means ‘YHWH has helped’, before Asa (15.1). The Chronicler
communicated to the primary readerships that YHWH has helped not
necessarily or mainly by giving Asa and his people victory over Zerah, but
by providing them with a permanent teaching through a true, divinely
inspired prophet (‘YHWH has helped’). Above all, it teaches them that they
were supposed to understand YHWH’s instruction through the prophet as
the main fulfillment of Asa’s desire of help from YHWH, and a blessing by
itself. In this instance, the primary readerships were asked to develop a
strategy of reading that focused, among others, on these ideological matters
and on the use and reuse of scripture and its implications, but relegated
questions such as did Asa know Zech. 8.10? Or did the past portrayed in
Azariah’s speech reflect ‘historically’ Asa’s days? Or Abijah’s days? Or
Solomon’s days? Or to whose days did it refer?60
This example illuminates the nuanced strategies of reading that at times
the primary readerships were supposed to adopt on matters of bracketing
and not bracketing off questions of historical referentiality. On the one

hand, to understand the meaning of the text, they had to bracket them off
in relation to the world of the past portrayed and assumed in the prophetic
speech; on the other hand, they were supposed to relate the speech directly
to Asa and even to a particular time in his reign.
2.6. Do the Citations in Chronicles Undermine the Previous Considerations?

The central observation advanced by the cumulative weight of the evi-
dence surveyed above is that the primary readerships of Chronicles were
led to construe the Chronicler as one who does not always convey or
wishes to convey accurate history in a narrow sense, but some other type
of truth that cannot be reached by approaching the text with strategies of
reading based on narrow referentiality. It might be claimed, however, that
Chronicles’ numerous citations conveyed to the primary readerships a
contrary claim, namely that he was communicating detailed, accurate ‘his-
tory’.61 The general issue of the rhetorical role of source citations or
references in Chronicles deserves a full study. For the present purposes, it
suffices to note that there are insurmountable difficulties in reconstructing
the reading strategies of the intended readerships of these sources, if they
existed at all. Further, and more importantly, how were the primary read-
erships of the book of Chronicles supposed to construe the Chronicler’s
preferred strategies for reading the sources he claims to have known?62
Significantly, the actual, primary readership of Chronicles knew about the
Chronicler’s use of his main sources, namely the narratives in Samuel and
Kings, for all these texts were available to them and were part of the
repertoire that created the textual community of which they were part as
they read Chronicles. Moreover, it is far more likely that they thought that
the range of reading strategies that the Chronicler asked them to adopt as
they read his book was not substantially different from that which the
Chronicler would have adopted with his sources. This being so, it seems
likely that the primary readerships of Chronicles construed the Chronicler
as one who did not always read his sources within a fully referential mode
of reading based on narrowly understood factuality. In sum, whether the
sources existed or not, it is certain that the Chronicler rhetorically used
references to them to convince the primary readerships of the truthfulness
and reliability of the events described in the book. But for the Chronicler
and these readers truthful and reliable images of the past are not confined
to those that comply with the requirements of reading models and logics
grounded on the type of historical precision generated by narrowly defined
referentiality. They considered an image of the past to be true, if it served
as an illustration that advances proper ideology, behavior and understand-

ing of the past and YHWH, for Chronicles is about (hi)story for a social
and ideological purpose.
3. Placing These Observations within the Context of the General

Repertoire of (Hi)storiographical, Authoritative Texts from Persian Yehud
As mentioned above, the Jerusalemite literati in the Yehud and early Hel-
lenistic period constituted to some extent a textual community, that is, a
community shaped around authoritative texts they wrote, read, edited,
studied, copied and read to others, and the messages about the divine that
were reflected and shaped by these messages. Within this community at
any time there were several constructions of the past, all of which were
based on accepted texts. It is precisely because the primary readerships of
Chronicles did not approach it with a reading strategy based on detailed
referentiality and the historical logic that it implies, that they could hold as
true in a meaningful sense both Samuel–Kings and Chronicles at the same
time, even if they would contradict each other from such a perspective.63
Further, one can hardly expect that within these communities of ancient
readers books be written and accepted as authoritative if they required
their readers to adopt modes of readings that were unheard of within the
community. In other words, one is to expect that to some extent or other
Chronicles would not be alone in its requirements from the literati. Chroni-
cles certainly was not alone in this regard. Although each narrative work
that shaped images of the past in ancient Israel was different, and each
showed diverse degrees in mimesis, all of them implied readerships that
would know that at times the preferred reading approach to the text was
not to ask questions associated with a narrowly understood concept of
factual accuracy. Genesis, for instance, conveys two different accounts of
creation and other episodes that were unlikely to be read within a reading
strategy that raises the type of questions associated with a narrowly defined
understanding of true referentiality.64 Notwithstanding all the differences,
the ancient readers could not but understand that the book of Kings
presented two contradictory images of the reign of Solomon regarding
forced labor (see 1 Kgs 5.27-32; 11.28 and contrast with 1 Kgs 9.20-22) and
the implied author of Kings wished them to consider both as true. They
also noticed that Judg. 1.8 and 1.21 report that Jebusite Jerusalem was con-
quered and that it was not, because the Jebusites remained in power and
they also knew of Josh. 15.63. They learned from 1 Sam. 17.54 that David
brought the head of Goliath to Jerusalem when Saul was still king and the
city was, from a narrow referential viewpoint a Jebusite city, according to

the main narrative of the book. Of course, a crucial component of the main
narrative in the book of Samuel is the story about David killing Goliath
(1 Samuel 17; see the close link between 1 Samuel 17 and 18 and the
ensuing narrative). But the readers of the book of Samuel are also told that
Elhanan son of Jaare-oregim, the Bethlehemite, killed Goliath (2 Sam.
21.19).
These examples can be easily multiplied, but they suffice to demonstrate
that Chronicles certainly was not alone in asking its primary readerships to
approach the text at times with a strategy of reading that is not governed
by expectations associated with narrowly understood mimesis. The
example that raised the question of the identity of Goliath’s killer points
at another important feature of the literati who read and composed
historiographical works. It shows that the very same literati did both (a)
develop and read texts that require non-mimetic modes of readings, as
demonstrated above and (b) emended some existing traditions so as to fit
them better to mimetic expectations. The authorship and primary reader-
ship of Chronicles were responsible for the cases discussed in section 2,
but also for the note explaining that Elhanan son of Jaare-oregim, the
Bethlehemite, killed not Goliath, but the brother of Goliath (1 Chron.
20.5), which is meant to alleviate the tension caused by a reading of the
relevant passages in Samuel within a mimetic mode of reading.65 These
literati were not constrained to one mode of reading, nor did they have one
in mind when they wrote for a readership constrained to one single read-
ing strategy. At times, they employed those that carried strong narrowly
understood mimetic claims, and at times preferred alternative strategies.
Of course, this matter raises the question of how to distinguish between
these two instances. From a methodological perspective questions of
explicit textual markers and unequivocal elements in the world of knowl-
edge of the authorship/primary readerships are to be the deciding factor. A
practical application of these considerations to a particular account in
Chronicles is carried out in section 4 to illustrate these matters.
Before one turns to applications, however, the considerations advanced
in section 2 must be placed in proportion. To be sure, the cumulative
weight of the evidence demonstrates beyond doubt that at times the pri-
mary readerships of the book were asked to read literary subunits within it
in a way that was not governed by considerations of narrowly understood
referentiality, and that in fact, a fully mimetic reading approach would
have impeded their understanding of the message of the Chronicler and
of the ‘true’ image of the past it conveys. This being so, the term ‘true’ was
not necessarily understood in narrow mimetic terms.
At the same time, it is to be stressed that a ‘true’ image of the past of the
community could not contradict a set of basic core ‘facts’ agreed upon by
the community about its past. It could not stand against the literati’s
memory of Israel (i.e., of themselves, to a large extent), or even against its
grain.66 Although narrow referentiality was certainly not a requisite, no
story could associate the death of Josiah with Sennacherib. The Chronicler
could be imagined as stating that Asa did and did not remove the bamot,
refer to his two cultic purges, and even to his two mothers, but not as one
claiming, for instance, that Asa was Solomon’s son or that he was the last
king of Judah. Similarly, the text cannot extend the reign of Abijah nor
shorten, for that matter, that of Manasseh.67 As in many other issues, the
Chronicler shaped and communicated a sense of proportion, through two
messages that may seem in tension.68 On the one hand, there was the clear
message that in numerous cases a mode of reading based on (narrow)
historical referentiality should not be adopted. On the other hand, the book
reinforced the message that there cannot be any deviation from referen-
tiality in the sense of a general coherence with accepted memories in their
main thrust.69 The messages are not contradictory, but complementary.
Chronicles asked its primary readerships to understand its narrative of
the past as both a historically reliable representation of events and cir-
cumstances in its general lines, but at the same time as one that is not
constrained by expectations of fully mimetic representations and their
internal logic.
4. Applying These Considerations to the Account

of Amaziah (2 Chronicles 25)
4.1. Introduction
The value for the study of the book of Chronicles and of the considerations
advanced above is related directly not only to its possible implications for
general matters of ancient historiography, but to their power to explain a
number of instances in a variety of units, and above all the presence of
seemingly odd references in different literary units or subunits throughout
the book. The following is an illustration of the explanatory power of
these considerations, as they apply to some seemingly odd features of the
account of Amaziah in Chronicles.70
4.2. Numbers of Seirites and Sela Images

To begin with a rather straightforward case, according to 2 Chron. 25.11-12,
Amaziah struck 10,000 Edomites and captured exactly the same number.
Further the 10,000 who were captured were executed by bringing each of
them to the top of the cliff/Sela (‫ )ראש־הסלע‬and then throwing them from
the top of the cliff/Sela (‫)ראש־הסלע‬, so that they all of them burst open
upon their fall. It seems certain that the Chronicler did not ask the primary
readerships to focus on the question of how likely it is that the two num-
bers were exactly the same, or on the logistic problems that such a form of
execution carries.71 Intended and proficient primary readers were supposed
to focus on matters such as the pun on words in ‫‘ בני־שעיר עשרת אלפים‬ten
(‫ )עשרת‬thousand Seirites’. The pun is not only consistent with the literary
style of the Chroniclers, but it also conveys a link between the identity of
those killed in battle, Seirites, and the number of those who actually fell,
ten/(ten thousand). Given this nomen-omen perspective, it is not surpris-
ing that the number of Seirites captives is also 10,000. Moreover, the close
repetition of the key word ‫‘ עשרת‬ten’ reinforces the pun.72 The primary
readerships were to focus also on the reference to Edomite Sela73 that
turns the widely-known Edomite/Seirite stronghold and very height on
which its strength was grounded into the instrument of their death.74 This
reference also served to evoke texts such as Pss. 137.9; 141.6 and Jer. 51.25.
Given this discursive context, the image of their execution served to bring
into the text the type of metaphorical association between Edom and
Babylon and that which is evil and counter to YHWH that is well attested
in postmonarchic discourses (e.g., Ps. 137.7-9).75
4.3. The Case of a Large Freelance Army of Mercenaries

It is remarkable that Chronicles (vv. 6, 9) does not state that king Amaziah
sought help from King Joash of Israel and hired the troop from him (cf. the
account of Ahaz). Instead it conveys an image of an Israel populated with
nothing less than 100,000 mighty warriors who constituted a kind of
freelance group not subject to royal authority at all and in control of very
substantial wealth. The primary readerships of the book most likely brack-
eted out the problematic matter of the factual accuracy and focused on the
meaning that such characterizations of Israel and its king carried within
the narrative. Joash is portrayed as an utterly powerless king, who becomes
extremely powerful as soon as Ahaziah fails to properly approach YHWH
(see below).76
4.4. The Case of the Raiding Northern Mercenaries

Another remarkable case involves 2 Chron. 25.13. According to this text,
the men of the Ephraimite troop whom Amaziah, in a pious deed, sent
back to their place (v. 10) fell upon the cities of Judah, from Samaria to
Beth-horon, and killed three thousand people in them, and took much
spoil.77 The text, if read in a way informed by the preceding verses is one
among several in Chronicles that make the point that pious deeds may and
have led at times to results often associated with divine judgment, such as
destruction and death.78 It must be noticed, however, that the text is cer-
tainly polyvalent and carries two other readings that balance and place the
first in proportion, as typical in the book of Chronicles.79 More significant
for the present purposes is the explicit geographical reference to ‫ערי יהודה‬
‫‘ משמרון ועד־בית חורון‬the cities of Judah from Samaria to Beth-horon’.
Williamson writes that ‘Samaria is out of place here, since it is well within
the northern kingdom…[i]t must be an error for a Judean town’.80 Rudolph
suggests an identification for that supposedly Judean town, Migron (‫)מגרון‬,
a place mentioned in Isa. 10.28 and 1 Sam. 14.2.81 Not only there is no
support for textual emendations of the term Samaria,82 but such proposals
do not explain the message of the existing text to its primary readerships.
In addition to the fact that any reference to Samaria evoked in the
primary readerships an image of the northern city, the text explicitly
affirms that the mercenary troops raided the cities from Samaria to Beth-
horon, not vice versa. This statement is consistent with the information
provided in v. 10 according to which the mercenaries returned to Ephraim
(‫ )וישובו למקומם‬before raiding the cities of Judah. This being the case,
according to the Chronicler’s narrative, the raid had to proceed from north
to south and Samaria therefore must be located, as expected within the
world of knowledge of the authorship and primary readerships of Chroni-
cles, north of Beth-horon.83
Samaria is not the only troublesome geographical reference here. Beth-
horon is itself a town within Ephraim, as the Chronicler clearly states in
1 Chron. 6.53; 7.24, and in fact, historically it was part of the northern
kingdom of Israel at the time. Even if one were to argue that the author-
ship and primary readerships of Chronicles were not aware of the matter,84
it is almost impossible to assume that such readerships thought that
Samaria or the area nearby were part of Judah at the time, or at any time
for that matter.85 Moreover, as the attention shifts to the world of knowl-
edge of an authorship/readership group of literati in Persian Yehud, the
reference to Beth-horon is fully understandable as pointing to the north-
ern border of Yehud86 (and from their perspective, likely that of monarchic
Judah). In other words, within a perspective informed by the world of
knowledge of the Yehudite literati the raid affected a territory outside
Yehud, from the center of the province of Samaria to the very border of
Yehud.
Johnstone maintains that since the cities (Beth-horon and Samaria)

belong to the north, the text seems to ridicule the troops, by stating that in
their anger they attacked their own people, whom they were supposed to
defend.87 But the sting of the ridicule stands if the text associates the cities
with Ephraim. The Chronicler, however, explicitly and emphatically refers
to them as Judah’s cities. Japhet attempts to solve the problem by positing
the (historical) existence of scattered cities which belonged to Judah within
the territory of the northern kingdom. According to her, ‘the Ephraimite
band, avoiding the risk of actually raiding Judaean territories, may have
fallen upon the “cities of Judah” scattered in Ephraim’.88 The factual exis-
tence of such extra-territorial cities in the midst of the much more power-
ful northern kingdom is, however, extremely unlikely.89 It is also unlikely
that the primary readerships thought that the Chronicler intended here to
communicate to them that Judah conquered the Ephraimite territory as far
as Samaria, or that likely following such a conquest, Judahite enclaves
were set within the territory of the northern kingdom as far as its capital,
Samaria.90 Significantly, such towns or conquests are not mentioned else-
where. Had the Chronicler wished to convey that point, which would have
been a major one, the primary readerships would have expected much
more than a minor, oblique and passing reference on the matter.
This being so and given the considerations discussed above, it seems
more reasonable to assume the primary readerships were supposed to
approach the text from a perspective other than representing in a fully
mimetic manner a past reality.91 Rather than coming to the text with ques-
tions about the historical accuracy of the reference to these cities, or for
that matter to a man with two mothers and four generations of priests
spanning more than three hundred years, the primary readerships were
supposed to focus on the communicative significance of these references
within its narrative and ideological contexts. In this particular case, the
salient mention of ‘the cities of Judah from Samaria to Beth-horon’ serves
to construe an image of the past in which the power and blessed status of
Judah at the time when its king follows YHWH is substantially enhanced
vis à vis that of Israel (the main ideological counter image of Judah). This
characterization of Judah’s power and status is brought, however, not for
its own sake. The main point is that such power evaporates, in a miracu-
lous way, as soon as the king forsakes YHWH’s ways (see vv. 14, 15-24, and
read v. 13 in the way informed by vv. 14-15). A king who was supported by
YHWH and whose cities stood as it were at the very heart of the kingdom
of Israel is quickly and fully transformed from his sin, and is correctly rec-
ognized by others as the simple thornbush of Lebanon (‫)החוח אשר בלבנון‬.
Significantly, at the very same time the king of Israel who a short moment
ago, within the world of the narrative, controlled neither the area by his
own capital, Samaria, nor massive bands of free mercenaries in his own
realm becomes instantly a cedar of Lebanon (‫)הארז אשר בלבנון‬, that is a
majestic tree/king. Under these circumstances, not incidentally, the Isra-
elite king is portrayed as one who bears a godly message to Amaziah
(v. 19) in a manner reminiscent of that of Necho to Josiah.92 Of course,
these messages went unheard.
It is worth noting also that the text goes even as far as to connote a
structural and literary association between the Ephraimite band and
YHWH. The anger of the Ephraimite band anticipates that of YHWH,93
and their success against Judah, whose king already sinned or was about to
sin,94 anticipates that of YHWH’s tool for judgment, the Israelite/Ephraim-
ite army. As one takes the cities of Judah in the north (outside Yehud), the
other does so those in Judah proper (that is, Yehud), as one raids the north-
ern cities, the other raids the temple in Jerusalem, and both are, of course,
governed by YHWH.
4.5. The Case of Utterly Unreasonable Actions

The actions of Amaziah described in v. 14 are obviously presented as
counter to any expectation and fully unpredictable.95 Why would a king
reject the god who gave him a great victory and turn to the god of the
defeated? In fact, this question is explicitly posed to the king in the world
of the text and to the readers of the book by a prophet in v. 15. The king,
who before was pious and perceptive, is portrayed as unable to understand
the most obvious truth in the message of the prophet, and in a miraculous
manner finds others who share his inability (see v. 17 and note the
contrastive pun on words of the root ‫ יעץ‬in vv. 16-17). In other words,
Ahaziah’s actions (and those of his companions) are presented as deeply
illogical. For the present purposes, this observation raises an interesting
question: was the Chronicler understood by its primary readerships as
communicating in this particular case a mimetic picture of the past, or as
one who asked them to bracket off questions of narrow historicity, as in
other instances discussed above? Neither of the two alternatives can be
ruled out, and in fact, it is likely that they were not really alternatives, but
complementary positions.
At the same time, it is worth noting that these irrational actions are
explained as caused by YHWH’s decision,96 as those in the episode of the
secession of the north.97 To be sure, the primary readerships of Chronicles
were asked to read, understand, accept, learn and ponder the message
conveyed by the analogous report about Rehoboam and northern Israel’s

wholly illogical actions at the time of the secession within the narrative
world of Chronicles, without recourse to their knowledge of the book of
Kings. But, at the same time, the literati who constituted these primary
readerships certainly were aware of a very different and partially incom-
patible story in Kings. They could accept, learn and ponder about the
meanings of both narratives of secession only if at very least they bracketed
out questions about narrowly defined historicity.98 If the analogous case
of Rehoboam is any indication, then the same process of bracketing out
narrowly defined historicity or ‘factual accuracy’ was at work in the por-
trayal of Amaziah (and his fellows) irrational actions. Of course, as men-
tioned above, this conclusion does not rule out the likely existence of other
complementary readings and rereadings developed under slightly different
modes of reading the same text.
5. Conclusion
The evidence gathered here indicates that the primary readerships of the
book were asked to, and most likely did approach some passages in Chroni-
cles (and other [hi]storiographical works) from perspectives other than
collecting information so as to recreate a fully mimetic, on the surface
true, image of past events. This evidence also indicates that such passages
were marked, so the primary readerships that approached the text, reading
it within rather than against its grain, could recognize them. In all these
cases, the Chronicler does not claim to provide as it were a transparent
window into the past, but something akin to a painting of the past with a
particular point to make, that is, as representations that bring forward a
truth or sets of truths but not necessarily a detailed, mimetic and fully
historically reliable picture of events and circumstances of the past. In
these cases, the primary readerships were invited to observe and learn
from that ‘painting’, but to do so they had to bracket out assumptions
about, and questions rising from approaches grounded on narrowly defined
historicity.
To be sure, proficient readers come with certain questions to the text
and bracket others, on the basis of their recognition of its genre. These
considerations about Chronicles raise therefore, issues associated with
socially agreed distinctions and delimitations concerning genres in ancient
Yehud, and especially between historical and fictional narrative. I dis-
cussed these matters at length elsewhere,99 but for the present purposes, it
suffices to say that the primary readerships most likely believed that the
communicator speaking to them through the text of Chronicles, that is,

the Chronicler, was relating to them the events as they truly happened. But
‘truly’ here does not point at ‘truth’ in the sense of ‘objective’ truth, or
history as ‘it actually happened’. The literati who constituted these com-
munities of readers neither expected nor demanded full and complete
mimesis with past events. Nor did their historiographical works claim to
provide it. In fact, it seems that incongruent meanings at the mimetic level
served, from the perspective of the primary readerships at the very least
to, as devices to draw attention to meanings of the text at other levels. It is
to be stressed that this holds true whether the actual author willfully
intended to create incongruence in the text from the very outset or not.
This being said, it is unreasonable to assume that authorships would
always be unaware of the rhetorical effect of incongruence on the reader-
ships of their works.
The evidence discussed here, along with the use of typology, common
topoi and the use and reuse of similar narratives or narrative fragments in
different instances to convey meanings, along with explicit contradictions
between statements in different authoritative books or within the very
same book, if taken at face value, demonstrate the point beyond doubt.
From their perspective, a truthful text that portrays events in their past has
to be true in regards to its ideological meaningfulness and consistent with
a set of core facts about the past that were agreed upon within the com-
munity.100 As expected, the same or similar principles applied to other
texts in their repertoire of authoritative books that communicated images
of the past, and accordingly, the textual phenomena described here appear
in these other texts as well.
The described openness towards reading approaches that do not assume
or require (historical) mimesis is consistent with emphasis on style, rheto-
ric and ideology in ancient historiography in general,101 and may be indica-
tive of an awareness among the Yehudite literati of the character and social
role of memory within the community, as opposed to a simple recollection
of ‘historically’ precise data.
Finally, these observations bear implications not only for the study of
ancient Israelite historiography and for that of the possible differences and
overlaps between ‘historical’ and ‘fictional’ narratives,102 but also practical
applications for the study of particular accounts in Chronicles. The latter
was illustrated with several examples from the account of Amaziah in
2 Chronicles 25.103
Endnotes
1. The book was meant to be read, reread, and most likely read to others. It cannot
be overstressed that readings of the book by the literati of Yehud were rereadings of the
book. I discussed elsewhere the importance of rereading see, for instance, E. Ben Zvi,
Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 2003) and bibliography cited there. Only for the sake of
simplicity were the terms ‘rereading’, ‘rereadership’ and the like supplanted by ‘read-
ing’, ‘readership’ and the like.
2. Chronicles presents itself as an authoritative book and its claim was accepted
most likely by at least some primary readerships.
3. Cf. the explicit expectation of both proper contents and esthetically pleasant
writing stated in Qoh. 12.10. Certainly, numerous literary features of Chronicles point
that much attention was given to the latter. Cf. I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient
Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005).
4. I agree with those scholars who date the book to the late Achaemenid Yehud.
See, for instance, I. Kalimi, An Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler,
his Time, Place and Writing (SSN, 46; Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2005), pp. 41-65;
H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982),
pp. 15-17. A date in the early Hellenistic period is also possible; see R. Albertz, A
History of Israelite Religion in the Old Testament Period (OTL; 2 vols.; Louisville, KY:
Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994), II, p. 545; S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL;
Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 23-28; on this debate see
G.N. Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9 (AB, 12; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2004), pp. 101-
17 and note also G.N. Knoppers, ‘Greek Historiography and the Chronicler’s History:
A Reexamination’, JBL 122 (2003), pp. 15-30. In any event, the arguments advanced
here are not dependent on whether the book was written during the late Persian period
or early Hellenistic period.
5. Had there been an unbridgeable gap between the two, the book would not have
been accepted at all by the readership; in fact, it is unlikely that such a book would have
been written at all.
6. Incidentally, one may note the substantial endeavor involved in copying the text
time and again. The book is among the largest in the Hebrew Bible, surpassed in
number of words only by Samuel and Kings. These two and Chronicles had to be
written in two scrolls.
7. Cf. L.K. Handy, ‘One Problem Involved in Translating to Meaning: An Example
of Acknowledging Time and Tradition’, SJOT 10 (1996), pp. 16-27.
8. Kalimi, Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History.
9. Cf. G. Rusch, ‘Comprehension vs. Understanding of Literature’, in S. Tötösy de
Zepetnek and I. Sywenky (eds.), The Systemic and Empirical Approach to Literature
and Culture as Theory and Application (Siegen University, 1997), pp. 107-19, esp. 115.
10. For methodological underpinnings and applications of the approach taken here
see among others, Rusch, ‘Comprehension vs. Understanding’; D. Kraemer, ‘The
Intended Reader as a Key to Interpreting the Bavli’, Prooftexts 13 (1993), pp. 125-40;
Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: pp. 3-6 and passim; idem, A Historical-Critical Study of the
Book of Obadiah (BZAW, 242; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 43-45 and
passim. The approach used here and in my previous works is similar to that advanced
in E.W. Conrad, ‘Forming the Twelve and Forming Canon’, in P.L. Redditt and
A. Schart (eds.), Thematic Threads in the Book of the Twelve (BZAW, 325; Berlin:
W. de Gruyter, 2003), pp. 90-103, esp. 93-96. Following Eco, Conrad refers to the
Model Reader and Model Author, which in the terminology used here are certainly
comparable to ‘the intended readership’ and ‘implied author’. Conrad’s ‘intention of
the work’ is comparable to some extent to ‘the communicative wishes of the implied
author as constructed by the intended readership’.
11. It is more likely that these readerships imagined the implied author of the book
as male than female.
12. Notwithstanding all the obvious differences, Picasso’s painting Guernica
provides its readers what Picasso, and many others, thought to be a true representation
of events in the Spanish Civil War. In fact, it is impossible to understand the painting in
its original historical context in a different manner, but no one would like to claim
direct and naïve referentiality for figures in the painting. In fact, such a claim would
have interfered with a proper understanding of the message of the author. Cf. and
contrast this image of a painting with that of the girl with two thumbs of P. Long.
13. To be sure, this is only one subset in Chronicles and the messages it conveyed to
the intended and relevant primary readerships informed but were also informed by
other subsets in the book, a point to which I will come later.
14. According to 2 Chron. 15.16 (//2 Kgs 15.13) the mother of Asa is a woman also
called Maacah. Since Asa is referred to as Abijah’s son (2 Chron. 13.31), the primary
readerships of Chronicles were most likely asked to understand this Maacah to be
another woman who bore the same name as Rehoboam’s beloved wife and Abijah’s
mother. It is possible, though far less likely that they have understood this Maacah to
be the same as Abijah’s mother and therefore the daughter of Absalom, in which case,
‫‘ אם‬mother’ would denote in 2 Chron. 15.15 ‘grandmother’ (cf. 1 Kgs 15.10). One may
notice, however, that Chronicles omits the text of 1 Kgs 15.10 and never characterizes
the Maacah who is the mother of Asa as daughter of Absalom.
15. Neither her name, nor that of his father is even similar to that of Rehoboam’s
beloved wife. ‫ מעכה‬is clearly different from ‫מיכיהו‬. There is no reason at all to assume
that the latter is a Chronistic version of the former, or that the sound of the ‫ ע‬would
have been lost, or that ‘Micaiahu, the daughter of Uriel of Gibeah’ is simply a ‘scribal
variant’ of ‘Maacah, the daughter of Absalom’, unless one assumes beforehand that the
two must be one.
Of course, one may always argue about the reference to a father, whether this is
really to a father or to an ancestor (e.g., grandfather), but the text does not provide any
clear hint that this is the case here; moreover, the cumulative weight of a different
name and different patronym certainly suggests to the readership that two different
people are mentioned
16. E.g., S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans,
1989), p. 291. Certainly the Chronicler is not trying to convince the intended
readership of Chronicles that the book they are reading is ‘in error’. To maintain that
the text is in ‘error’ is relevant to the project of writing ancient Israelite history. Within
this endeavor, the statement is tantamount to saying that in this instance the book of
Chronicles is not ‘historically reliable’. The statement, however, is less relevant to other
projects, such as reading the book as it is and advancing an understanding of the most
likely ways in which the intended readership interpreted the reports and made sense
of them.
17. On the surface, one may argue that this particular example is simply a case of
historian’s inconsistency (cf. Josephus, among many others) and that the primary
readerships recognized it just that way and accordingly, paid no attention to it. There
are several problems with this interpretation, however. Among them, (a) it does not
deal with the claim to authority of the text, which had to accepted by the primary
readerships; (b) it does not address the matter that biblical books, including Chronicles,
seem to have undergone revisions and that for a while at least, their readers and writers
were the same social group; (c) it avoids rather than engages with the text that even-
tually crystallized after the redactional processes that shaped the Hebrew text of
Chronicles ended, that is the present text.
On Josephus’ inconsistencies and the debate about its possible implications, see
S. Mason, ‘Contradiction or Counterpoint? Josephus and Historical Method’, Review
of Rabbinic Judaism 6 (2003), pp. 145-88.
18. No matter, the value one may assign to considerations of most difficult reading
or to the reading Maacah, daughter of Abishalom in the parallel text in 1 Kgs 15.2, or
for the sake of the argument, to any claims about a hopelessly confused writer, the
simple fact remains that there was an historiographical text in which Abijah was
associated with two different mothers. Incidentally, the reading in Chronicles is the
most difficult reading. The LXX reads Maacah, daughter of Uriel of Gibeon. This is
most likely a conflated reading.
19. The ingenious, although always partial, solutions that have at times being pro-
posed, on the assumption that the two must be one have no basis on the text itself.
There is nothing in it that may have helped the readers of the book to come to the kind
of explanations advanced for instance in Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 670-71, which
by her own admission do not solve all the problems.
20. This certainly holds true for the intended readership, but also most likely for
primary readerships too, since the latter did accept this work and invested it with
authority, that is, they bought into what they considered to be the authorial com-
municative intentions of the book.
21. The reference to Maacah in 2 Chron. 11.20-22 is part and parcel of a story
meant to project, among others, an image of a reunited Davidic house and a kingdom
that at a time of war against northern Israel is headed by someone who is a descen-
dant of both Solomon and Absalom.
22. This reference construes an image of close ties between the royal house of Judah
and Benjamin, which of course are relevant to the story of Abijah in particular and of
the southern kingdom in general.
23. See C. Begg, Josephus’s Account of the Early Divided Monarchy (AJ 8, 212-420)
(BETL, 108; Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1993), pp. 68 n. 384 and 109-10
n. 688. According to Josephus, Abijah’s mother is Machanē, daughter of Thamarē and
granddaughter of Absalōn (8.249) and Asa’s mother is Machaia (8.286). Josephus, just
as Chronicles, does not mention the name of the father of Asa’s mother.
24. Many modern scholars have found this tension problematic and, accordingly,
have tried to explain it away in different ways – often by posing a redactional process.
For a summary see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 728. It bears notice that she concludes
her survey, ‘these contradictions – so glaring to the modern reader – remain an issue
that has not yet been adequately clarified’. This essay opens a way to a clarification of
these matters.
25. The text of 2 Chron. 15.17, ‫והבמות לא־סרו מישראל רק לבב־אסא היה שלם‬
‫‘ כל־ימיו‬but the high places were not removed from Israel; nevertheless the heart of
Asa was blameless all his days’ raises other issues, but it does not alleviate the supposed
tension between removing and not removing the bamot.
26. It bears notice that the Chronicler departed intentionally from the source text in
Kings (cf. 1 Kgs 22.44) when he wrote ‫אך הבמות לא־סרו ועוד העם לא־הכינו לבבם‬
‫‘( לאלהי אבתיהם‬yet the high places were not removed; the people had not yet set their
hearts upon the God of their ancestors’; 2 Chron. 20.33, NRSV) just as when he
introduced the reference to Micaiahu the daughter of Uriel of Gibeah (see above). On
the reign of Jehoshaphat in Chronicles, see Gary N. Knoppers, ‘Reform and Regression:
The Chronicler’s Presentation of Jehoshaphat’, Bib 72 (1991), pp. 500-24.
27. On the bamot in Chronicles see S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles
and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev.
edn, 1997), pp. 217-21.
28. Cf. 2 Chron. 31.1; 34.4; see also 2 Chron. 32.12; 33.3.
29. The reform of Hezekiah, the king who is lionized the most in Chronicles,
involves an unequivocal, complete removal of the bamot (see 2 Chron. 31.1; 32.12; cf.
33.3). Most significantly, from an ideological perspective, the effects of Hezekiah’s total
purge of bamot do not last long. Immediately after the death of the king, Manasseh, his
own son, rebuilds them (see 2 Chron. 33.3).
30. As typical in Chronicles, these meanings informed and were informed by mean-
ings conveyed by other sections. See Chapters 2 and 8 in this volume.
31. Contrast with 1 Kgs 15.12. Chronicles, however, advances a very different story
in this regard.
32. See the eloquent discourse in J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel
(Cleveland and New York: Meridian Books, 1961; German original, Berlin: Reimer,
1883), p. 193. Of course, this approach is very common. See, for instance, Japhet, p. 220
n. 80 which explicitly refers to Wellhausen’s comments on these matters.
33. See 1 Kgs 15.12-13.
34. See 2 Chron. 16.1-12.
35. The readership of Chronicles is supposed to construe Rehoboam as a king who
behaved in a positive manner during most of his reign. Abijah is presented altogether
as a pious king. The readership is informed that Asa behaved piously since his first to
his thirty-fifth year; negative actions are associated with his thirty-sixth to forty-first
year only (a minuscule proportion of his reign). Jehoshaphat is presented as a pious
king for most (if not almost all) his reign. Cf. P. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdar-
stellung in den Chronikbüchern (WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 1973), pp. 127-28; G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Vic-
tim?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 423-40, and Chapter 6 in this volume.
36. I discussed the motif of foreign invasions and other calamities against pious
kings in E. Ben Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People: General Considerations and Particu-
lar Observations Regarding the Books of Chronicles and Job’ (forthcoming in a
collections of essays edited by Duncan Burns and John Rogerson; revised version of
paper presented at the annual meeting of the PNW-SBL held in Vancouver, BC, May
2004).
37. Claims that the two reforms are actually one (e.g., de Vries, 1 and Chronicles, pp.
296-97; see also bibliography cited there) might be relevant to the project of writing
ancient Israelite history, but not to that of reconstructing the intended readership’s
understanding of the text. Nothing in the text as it is suggests that there was only one
purge. To the contrary, the text is quite unequivocal in its separation between the two.
Within the world portrayed in the book, actions associated with the first purge led to
several and most likely ten years of peace (2 Chron. 13.23; 14.5) that came to an end
with Zerah’s invasion (2 Chron. 14.8-14), which in any event must precede Asa’s fif-
teenth year (2 Chron. 15.10). The second purge is directly associated with the fifteenth
year and led to a period of 20 years of peace, till the end of the thirty-fifth year of Asa
(2 Chron. 16.1-2). To be sure this chronology is not consistent with that of Kings (see
below), but the intended readership of the book is certainly supposed to take it
seriously and as truly representative of the position of the implied author, who in fact,
was construed as actively involved in persuading the readers to accept it as valid. Need-
less to say, whether this chronology is historically inaccurate, or for that matter accu-
rate, from our perspective today has no relevance to the construction and acceptance
of the communicative intentions of the implied author by the intended and primary
readerships of the book of Chronicles.
38. I discussed the ubiquity and meanings of the motif of YHWH’s testing of the
pious in Chronicles and elsewhere in Ben Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People’. Compare
and contrast Japhet, Ideology, pp. 191-98.
39. Two of these five verses actually refer to the coup against him. Very little is said
about his deeds.
40. To be sure, later readers, even in pre-critical times did come to Chronicles with
different reading strategies and raised these questions. See, for instance, Radaq. Need-
less to say, the book of Chronicles, as is, was not of much help to them.
42. Zadok anointed Solomon according to 1 Kgs 1.45.
43. In its present form. For proposals regarding an original text, see, for instance,
W. Rudolph, BHS. Proposed textual emendations or redactional suggestions, however,
are of no help for the understanding of the authorial communicative intentions of the
present book as constructed by its intended readership.
44. Contrast with 1 Kgs 4.2.
45. Abijah 3 years, Asa 41, Jehoshaphat 25, Jehoram 8, Ahaziah 1, no king/Athaliah
6, Joash 40, Amaziah 29, Uzziah 52, Jotham 16, Ahaz 16, Hezekiah 29, Manasseh 55,
Amon 2.
46. The approximately 50 years of sequential time span from Josiah (including his
entire reign) to the destruction of Jerusalem (Josiah 31 years, Jehoahaz 3 months,
Jehoiakim 11 years, Jehoiachin 3 months, Zedekiah 11 years), another important period
in Chronicles’ (hi)story, are populated by four sequential generations of priests. Hilkiah
is the priest in the eighth year of the reign of Josiah (2 Chron. 34.8-9). The other three
priests in the list are Azariah, Seraiah, Jehozadak who was the priest at the time of the
exile (1 Chron. 5.41). It is possible to understand the rapid change of priests following
Hilkiah in terms of the instability of the period. But clearly, the five generations of
priests during Solomon’s time cannot be understood as communicating a sense of
instability. This was a golden period from the perspective of the Chronicler.
47. See that the reference to marriage and children is directly, and unequivocally
preceded in the narrative by ‫‘ ויתחזק‬and he grew mighty’, which in Chronicles in
general and in this account in particular cannot be understood as pointing to a period
before he became king (see 2 Chron. 1.1; 12.13; 17.1; 21.4; 27.6; 32.5; cf. 2 Chron. 11.17-
21).
48. Cf. Num. 1.45-46, according to which the number of male Israelites from 20
years old and upward was 603,550 and Num. 3.43, according to which the number of
male first-borns from a month old and upward was 22,273. The point of the text may
well be to convey a sense of astounding fertility among the Israelites, but neither the
authorship nor intended readerships seem to be concerned with the logistical aspects,
namely how many children (male and female) each mother was supposed to have. The
issue is similar to the claim that the Israelite population grew from 70 people to close
to two million in four generations.
49. I. Kalimi, ‘Literary-Chronological Proximity in the Chronicler’s Historiography’,
VT 43 (1993), pp. 318-38. (Published in revised form in I. Kalimi, Ancient Israelite
Historian.)
50. For the use of ‫‘ אחרי‬after’ in Chronicles in the sense of relatively close temporal
proximity see 2 Chron. 22.4; 25.14, 25; and for the precise expression ‫אחרי כל זאת‬
used in the same manner see 2 Chron. 21.18. This expression does not occur elsewhere
in the Hebrew Bible.
51. See, among others, Kalimi, ‘Literary-Chronological Proximity’, esp. pp. 323-28.
52. Ben Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People’.
53. For a well-known biblical case, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘Who Wrote the Speech of Rab-
shakeh and When?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 79-92. For studies on prophetic and related
addresses in Chronicles, see, for instance, R. Mason, Preaching the Tradition (Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990). For a treatment of the matter of prophetic
speeches and ancient historiography as related to Chronicles, see K. Sparks, ‘Prophetic
Speeches in Chronicles: Speculation, Revelation, and Ancient Historiography’, BBR 9
(1999), pp. 233-46.
54. Note esp. v. 3 ‫תוֹרה‬ ָ ‫מוֹרה וּלְ לֹא‬ ֶ ‫וּללֹא כּ ֵֹהן‬ ְ ‫ֹלהי ֱא ֶמת‬ ֵ ‫וְ יָ ִמים ַר ִבּים ְל ִי ְשׂ ָר ֵאל לְ לֹא ֱא‬
v. 5 ‫ל־יוֹשׁ ֵבי ָה ֲא ָרצוֹת‬
ְ ‫יּוֹצא וְ ַל ָבּא ִכּי ְמהוּמֹת ַרבּוֹת ַעל ָכּ‬ ֵ ‫וּב ִע ִתּים ָה ֵהם ֵאין ָשֹׁלום ַל‬ ָ and
v. 6 ‫ל־צ ָרה‬
ָ ‫ֹלהים ֲה ָמ ָמם ְבּ ָכ‬
ִ ‫י־א‬
ֱ ‫גוֹי־בּגוֹי וְ ִעיר ְבּ ִעיר ִכּ‬
ְ ‫ וְ ֻכ ְתּתוּ‬v. 3 ‘For a long time Israel was
without the true God, and without a teaching priest, and without law; v. 5 In those
times it was not safe for anyone to go or come, for great disturbances afflicted all the
inhabitants of the lands; v. 6 They were broken in pieces, nation against nation and city
against city, for God troubled them with every sort of distress (NRSV).
55. Contrast, among others, with S.S. Tuell, First and Second Chronicles (Interpreta-
tion; Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 2001), pp. 169-70.
56. Contrast with W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. II. 2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt
and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 65-66.
57. Cf., among others, Jer. 10.10; Hos. 3.4-5; 5.15-6.1; Amos 3.9; Zech. 8.10; Ps. 31.6.
See Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 717-21.
58. If these questions were not bracketed off, the primary readerships would have to
conclude that Asa could not have understood the full meaning of the message of the
prophet, and that YHWH intended the message to be only partially understood by Asa.
Both propositions are very unlikely within the ideological world of the Chronicler.
Of course, this is just one example of a relatively common feature in Chronicles. The
second speech to Asa, for instance, includes a clear reference to Zech. 4.10 (and 1 Sam.
13.13). See 2 Chron. 16.9.
59. For instance, one may compare 2 Chron. 15.2 with 1 Chron. 28.9. In the latter,
David instructs Solomon; in the former, the prophet Azariah instructs Asa. Both
responded positively. Cf. Tuell, First and Second Chronicles, p. 169.
60. Cf. the discussion of ‘Azariah’s appeal to history’ in P. Beentejes, ‘Prophets in
the Book of Chronicles’, in J.C. de Moor (ed.), The Elusive Prophet: The Prophet as a
Historical Person, Literary Character and Anonymous Artist (OtSt, XLV; Leiden: E.J.
Brill, 2001), pp. 45-53, esp. 49-52.
61. Cf. M.Z. Brettler, The Creation of History in Ancient Israel (London and New
York: Routledge, 1995), p. 47.
62. Cf. Josephus’ references to sources, and in particular to the texts of documents
to be found engraved on bronze tablets in the Capitol (Ant. 14.187-89, esp. 188; cf. Ant.
14.266). Incidentally, not only is it very unlikely that he accessed these documents, but
in all likelihood he could not have done that, because of the fire of December 19, 69 CE.
See, for instance, H.R. Moering, ‘The Acta pro Judaeis in the Antiquities of Flavius
Josephus: A Study in Hellenistic and Modern Apologetic Historiography’, in J. Neusner
(ed.), Christianity, Judaism and Other Greco-Roman Cults: Studies for Morton Smith at
Sixty. Part Three Judaism before 70 (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1975), pp. 124-58, esp. 131; on
this and general matters associated with citations of documents in Josephus, see,
among others, M. Pucci Ben-Zeev, Jewish Rights in the Roman World – The Greek
and Roman Documents Quoted by Josephus Flavius (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr/Siebeck,
1998), pp. 381-408 and esp. 394-99; idem, ‘Josephus’ Ambiguities: His Comments on
Cited Documents’, paper presented at the 2003 Josephus’ Seminar and available at
http://josephus.yorku.ca/pdf/ben-zeev2003.pdf.
63. Of course, the same does not hold true for later harmonizers of these books. But
certainly this is not the case from the perspective of the intended readers of Chronicles
and their construction of the communicative intention of the Chronicler.
64. For instance, they most likely noticed the ideological significance of the fact that
within the narrative world of the text, the announcement of the birth of Isaac (Genesis
18) and the birth itself (Genesis 21) are separated by the story of Sarah and Abraham in
Gerar (Genesis 20). Moreover, it is obvious that this text here recalls that the story in
Gen. 12.10-17, and the associated motif of the conceptual differentiation between
Canaan and Egypt (note that Hagar is Egyptian). Certainly it brings forward the motif
of the exceptionally beautiful endangered matriarch and the related motif of the, at
least, powerless patriarch. It seems far more likely that the readership for which the
book of Genesis in its present form was composed understood the typological repre-
sentation and its ideological significance and therefore considered the story to be true
than they followed a narrowly defined mimetic reading strategy for Genesis 20 and
accordingly centered around the supposed tension between the reported exceptional
sexual desirability of Sarah and her very old age.
65. For additional examples in Chronicles see Kalimi, Reshaping of Ancient Israelite
History, pp. 38-52.
66. It is worth noting that the tendency of ‘core facts’ agreed upon within a particu-
lar community to influence that which is/can be said/written is attested in numerous
cultures, across time and place. The question is, of course, which is included and
excluded by a particular community from their definition of core fact and the level of
freedom that writers have on these matters.
67. On statements about regnal years as core facts see Chapter 7. I wrote extensively
on the question of ‘core facts’ and limited malleability in ancient Israelite historiog-
raphy. See, for instance, Chapter 4 and my essay, ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennach-
erib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in a Cage’:
The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic
Press, 2003), pp. 73-105.
68. See Chapters 2 and 8.
69. To be sure, one may assume that had the book of Chronicles deviated from core
facts in the community’s image of its past or with its general memory, the book would
have been rejected by its primary readership. In fact, most likely it would not have been
written at all, since the actual authors of the book were also members of that commu-
nity who shared memories and its associated system of core facts about the past.
70. The account of Amaziah in 2 Chronicles 25 is one of the richest sources for
understanding many of the ideological positions of the Chronicler and demands a
separate discussion, which I plan to undertake soon. The discussion in this section is
meant only to illustrate the explanatory value of the considerations advanced above. On
the account of Amaziah in Chronicles see M.P. Graham, ‘Aspects of the Structure and
Rhetoric of 2 Chronicles 25’, in M.P. Graham, J. Kuan, and W.P. Brown (eds.), History
and Interpretation: Essays in Honor of John H. Hayes (JSOTSup, 173; Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1993), pp. 78-89.
71. Neither the Chronicler nor the intended readership of the book seemed to have
problems with what we would call the ethical aspects of that action. It is worth men-
tioning that centuries later Amaziah’s action was strongly condemned and considered
to be a reason for the exile of Israel. See ‘at that time [when Amaziah killed the Edomite
captives] the Holy One, blessed be He, said: “I decreed death upon the descendants of
Noah only by the sword but these brought them unto the top of the Rock, and cast
them down from the top of the Rock, that they all were broken in pieces”. “There will
be no rest”: at that time the Holy One, blessed be He, said, “Since they acted thus, they
shall go into exile”. Since they sinned, they were exiled…’ (LamR, Prologue 14; Soncino
ET). Needless to say, the sages responsible for Lamentations Rabba held a view of the
matter that is opposite to that of the Chronicler. Incidentally, the latter praises pious
Asa and his people for commanding that any Israelite who does not seek YHWH be
killed (2 Chron. 15.13).
72. On paronomasia in Chronicles see Kalimi, Ancient Israelite Historian, pp. 67-80.
He explicitly refers to the case discussed above on p. 72. 2 Kgs 14.7 reports also that
10,000 enemy men were killed, but identifies them as Edomites. The pun on words,
the nomen-omen perspective and the reference to the 10,000 captives appear only in
Chronicles. The reference to ‘ten’ in Kings served most likely as a point of departure
from which through sophisticated craftsmanship the Chronicler developed a text that
carried literary and ideological messages.
73. It is worth noting that Chronicles omits the report in 2 Kgs 14.7 stating that
‫‘ ויקרא את־שמה יקתאל עד היום הזה‬he [Amaziah] called it [Sela] Joktheel [the name
of Judahite town in Josh. 15.38] which is its name to this day’. In Chronicles, the city
remains ‘Sela’. Further Chronicles transforms the report stating ‫ותפש את־הסלע‬
‫‘ במלחמה‬he [Amaziah] took Sela by war’ into one describing the killing of the captives
at Sela.
74. Cf. Jer. 49.16; Obad. 1.3; see Ben Zvi, Obadiah, pp. 53-61.
75. See also Ben Zvi, Obadiah, pp. 230-46 and esp. 232 n. 7.
76. It is worth noting that Josephus saw the problematic character of the reference
to hiring the mercenaries without reference to the king of Israel and solved it by retell-
ing the story with a reference to the king (see Ant. 9.188). For other motifs in Josephus’
retelling, and on his portrayal of Amaziah see C. Begg, ‘Amaziah, King of Judah Accord-
ing to Josephus’, Antonianum 70 (1995), pp. 3-30.
To be sure, Chronicles, as usual, somewhat balances the picture. The narrative role
of the hired troop becomes structurally similar to that of the King’s army later in the
story (see below). Also v. 7 uses the ambiguous term ‫‘ צבא ישראל‬the army of/from
Israel’. Yet the salient omission of a reference to the king in the relation to the hiring
both in vv. 6 and 9 cannot but bear significance in the narrative. (In other cases in
Chronicles help is hired from kings, see accounts of Asa and Ahaz.)
77. ‫ובני הגדוד אשר השיב אמציהו מלכת עמו למלחמה ויפשטו בערי יהודה משמרון‬
‫ועד־בית חורון ויכו מהם שלשת אלפים ויבזו בזה רבה‬
78. See also 2 Chron. 16.10; 24.20-22. See Chapters 2 and 8.
79. The text was written to be read and reread. As the text is read in a way informed
by the preceding verses, it carries a particular meaning. As it is read in a way that is
informed by the following verses it carries another (see esp. v. 14 and see discussion
below). In addition, the text was written so as to allow a third and complementary
manner, according to which the very request for help from mercenaries is a sin, which
is not removed by Amaziah’s later action of sending them away. In fact, within this
reading the text here is reminiscent of that of 2 Chron. 28.16, 20. In both cases external
help is sought, and not only that it does not help, but actually becomes an agent of
destruction. (A number of additional links bind together the accounts of Amaziah and
Ahaz). The three seemingly disparate meanings balance each other and convey and
reflect a more sophisticated ideology than that of each reading alone. For this sense of
balance and proportion in Chronicles see works cited in note above.
80. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 330.
81. W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher (HAT: Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955),
p. 279; idem, BHS.
82. None of the ancient versions read Migron here.
83. This geographical itinerary fits well with the possible historical background for
the war between Amaziah and Joash advanced by Na’aman, according to whom Joash’s
armies invaded and defeated Judah, because of Amaziah’s attempt to free Judah from
Israel’s hegemonic control. See N. Na’aman ‘Historical Background’. It is worth stress-
ing, however, that the (hi)story narrated in Chronicles, which is the text being dis-
cussed here, and the historical reconstruction advanced of the events by Na’aman –
even if correct – belong to two different conceptual categories.
84. Na’aman refers to the Chronicler’s (for him, the actual author of the book) lack
of knowledge of the geographical realities of the monarchic period. See, N. Na’aman,
‫( הרקע ההיסטורי לפרשת המלחמה בין אמציה ליהואש‬English title: ‘The Historical
Background of the Account of the War between Amaziah and Jehoash’), Shnaton 9
(1987), pp. 211-17, esp. 214.
85. As I demonstrated elsewhere, the principle that Judah cannot take the territories
of the North by force, except for borderline areas which were included in Yehud and
were considered part of monarchic Judah (e.g., Bethel), is of major importance in the
book of Chronicles. See Chapter 6. The area of Beth-horon if included in Yehud was by
its northern borders.
Significantly, here again Josephus deviates from the account in Chronicles. Accord-
ing to him the Israelite troop advanced as far as Bethsemera. The latter may be a
conflation of Beth-horon and Samaria or a reference to Beth-shemesh (cf. 2 Chron.
25.21, 23). See Begg, ‘Amaziah’, p. 13 n. 39. In any event, it is worth stressing that
Josephus’ version avoids the problematic reference to ‘from Beth-horon to Samaria’,
just as he avoids the problematic lack of reference to the king of Israel in the episode of
the hiring. The Chronicler, of course, does not avoid them. On the contrary, he makes
them important elements of the historical narrative.
86. See O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns,
2005), pp. 139-40, 148, 373.
87. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, II, p. 157
88. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 865.
89. See, Na’aman, ‘Historical Background’, among many others.
90. Judah’s conquest of the main territory of the northern kingdom as far as Samaria
would have been contrary to central aspects of the ideology of the book of Chronicles.
See Chapter 6.
91. Or a reality believed to have existed in the ninth century.
92. 2 Chron. 35.20-22.
93. Note the Chronicler’s choice of words: ‫ ויחר אפם מאד ביהודה‬and ‫חרי־אף‬
(‘they became enraged with Judah’ and ‘in fierce rage’) in v. 10 refer to the mercenary
band and cf. ‫( ויחר־אף יהוה באמציהו‬YHWH became enraged angry with Amaziahu)
in v. 15.
94. Amaziah must have taken the crucial decision to carry off the gods of Edom
before he came to Jerusalem.
95. Contrast them with those of Ahaz, which are presented as reasonable within the
logic of a particular viewpoint. I discussed the matter elsewhere, see Chapter 11.
96. See the words the Chronicler places in the mouth of the prophet, as soon as he
learned that the king has rejected his words ‘I know that God has decided to destroy
you, because you have done this and have not listened to my counsel’ ‫ידעתי כי־יעץ‬
‫( אלהים להשחיתך כי־עשית זאת ולא שמעת לעצתי‬2 Chron. 25.16).
97. I have discussed the matter at length in Chapter 6.
98. E.g., did a heavy yoke on the tribes of Israel exist or not exist during Solomonic
times? See work cited in note above.
99. E. Ben Zvi, ‘General Observations on Ancient Israelite Histories in their Ancient
Contexts’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), Enquire of the Former Age: Ancient Historiography and
Writing in the History of Ancient Israel (London/New York: T&T Clark, forthcoming).
100. Cf. with the ways in which the narratives about Jesus in the gospels were
considered to be true.
101. Cf. M.J. Wheeldon, ‘True Stories: The Reception of Historiography in
Antiquity’, in A. Cameron (ed.), History as Text: The Writing of Ancient History (Lon-
don: Gerald Duckworth, 1989), pp. 36-63 and see esp. the introductory words in pp. 33-
36. In fact, one of the advantages of the approach advanced here is that it brings
together multiple observations about Chronicles that are often studied separately. As
such it creates a framework in which these observations and their implications inform
each other and together advance a better understanding of the work as a whole.
102. I discussed this matter in Ben Zvi, ‘General Observations’.
103. My thanks to my former student Ken Ristau, whom I may have failed to con-
vince of all of the arguments advanced here, but whose praiseworthy ‘resistance’ helped
me to sharpen my case.
Chapter 4
SHIFTING THE GAZE: HISTORIOGRAPHIC CONSTRAINTS

IN CHRONICLES AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS*
1. Introduction
Much has been written about the ability of historians to shape construc-
tions of the past according to their own worldviews, theologies or ideolo-
gies, and on the influence of social location on historiography. In fact,
there is abundant proof that the ancient historians responsible for such
books as Kings and Chronicles could mould their accounts to serve
particular theological, ideological, literary and rhetorical purposes.1 To be
sure, the same holds true for most histories. Such a situation is to be
expected, since theological/ideological (hereafter, theological) frames and
considerations influence the significance ascribed to events in the past.2
Moreover, the articulation of the significance of an historical event requires
that the event be set within a comprehensive historical narrative3 that
most often includes the historical causes and effects of the event, and at
times, even alternative paths that were open to the historical agents but
not chosen by the historical agents. In other words, events as understood
and construed within a larger narrative (or meta-narrative), rather than
‘the events per se’, are the bearers of social and theological significance in
accounts of the past. Significantly, the (implied) author of Chronicles
(hereafter, ‘the Chronicler’)4 was mainly interested in constructing and
communicating the social and theological significance of the Israel’s his-
tory (or the portion of it covered in Chronicles; on this matter, see below).
The Chronicler constructed and communicated meaning through the
creation of a historical narrative that included numerous accounts of past
events, shaped so as to convey a particular significance. The Chronicler
used sources, imitated them5 and substantially deviated from them, as it is
abundantly attested. In fact, today almost every serious commentary on
Chronicles addresses at length these deviations and explains the literary
and theological issues. There is still much to be learned from this research
perspective.
4. Shifting the Gaze 79
Recently, however, I became more interested in ‘lack of deviation’, or, in

other words, on which ‘historiographic facts’ the Chronicler accepted or
had to accept as a given. Which facts6 could the Chronicler not deny, even
if they were theologically or rhetorically problematic from the viewpoint of
Chronicles? And why these facts, but not others? In more general terms, I
became more interested in the question of limits of historiographic malle-
ability in ancient Israel. I am convinced that an examination of these limits
is likely to shed much light on the social context and the related discursive
constraints within which the writing of Israelite history in the Persian
period, when Chronicles was written, took place.7 Moreover, this type of
studies contributes substantially to our knowledge of the ‘facts’ about
Israel’s past that were shared by the community at the time, or at least
among its literati. This understanding permits a clearer view of their world
of knowledge.8
Thus, in a recent article, I built on the observation that chronological
data in Kings – related to the length of reign and the age at ascension to
the throne – is maintained in Chronicles, even when it is difficult in itself,
and I dealt with what follows from this observation about the construc-
tions of time advanced in Chronicles, as well as about the Chronicler’s use
of sources.9 In addition, in August 2000, I presented a paper entitled ‘Mal-
leability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case
Study’, before the European Seminar for Historical Methodology.10 In this
paper I addressed the issue of malleability and its limits in different ancient
histories – including Chronicles – from the perspective of a particular
case-study.
The present contribution continues my exploration of these issues but
differs from the earlier works by focusing on the book of Chronicles as a
whole. To be sure, a fully comprehensive, case-by-case study of malleabil-
ity and its limits in Chronicles would exceed the limits of this paper.
Therefore, the present study will concentrate on a set of diverse and
paradigmatic cases, and then on the implications that arise from this set.
It is worth stressing at this point that due to the goal of this study, the
approach to the selected texts should bear the imprint of a kind of reverse
critical gaze, that is, the main focus must be on the historical data taken
from the Chronicler’s sources that has not undergone a substantial change
in Chronicles. This is the opposite of what we often do when we study
Chronicles. Further, since this essay deals with the construction(s) of the
past advanced by Chronicles, what has to be studied is the extant book,
that is, a narrative that reports and shapes an image of past events. In fact,
there is no real choice in that matter. The intended rereaders11 were not
asked to take more seriously or view as more authoritative the non-parallel

than the parallel accounts, and certainly not to dismiss the latter. The
(hi)story told in the Chronicles not only encompasses both types of
account but also interweaves them into one single narrative and by doing
so it denies their separate existence. The ‘voice’ of the implied author
resonates in both types of account equally. So if the implied author is
referred to as ‘the Chronicler’, as is the case here, the Chronicler’s voice
also carries both types of account equally. In sum, studies of the historical
narrative stated in Chronicles, the world it construes, and its reception by
the intended and primary rereadership must deal with the entire text,
without making differences between parallel and non-parallel texts – which
are in fact scholarly constructions.
If the type of research envisaged here is to be successful, the selection of
study cases must be carried out carefully. It is imperative that the focus be
on issues that were central to the discourse of the period, rather than on
some assorted marginalia that cover minor points of agreement between
the book of Chronicles and its sources. Not much is at stake in marginal
details, and therefore reverberations or direct citations from sources may
be explained in terms of the simple practicalities of composing a text on
the basis of written sources.12
Taking these considerations into account, the following cases were
selected for this paper: (a) basic genealogies and the sense of identity they
create, (b) the king of Judah and the construction of the monarchic past in
terms of regnal periods by Davidic kings, (c) the existence, presence and
leadership of northern Israel, (d) major events in Judahite13 monarchic
history (such as the conquest of Jerusalem, the building of the temple, the
division of the kingdom, Jerusalem’s salvation in Sennacherib’s times and
its destruction in Zedekiah’s), and (e) and the motifs of exodus and exile.
2. Shifting the Gaze: Some Considerations on Selected Issues

2.1. Some Observations about Genealogies
Genealogies occupy the first nine chapters of Chronicles. They construct a
world within which Israel – with whom the rereaders of the book identify
– finds its place, indeed a central place.14 Later, they organize Israel accord-
ing to tribes, families and, above all, leading families of national and even
cosmic importance, due to the role of Jerusalem and its temple in the
‘cosmic’ sphere (e.g., the Davides, the priests).15
To be sure, the genealogical sequences in Chronicles are not presented
for their own sake, but for their ability to convey and shape a particular
ideology (or theology). One may notice, for instance, the powerful rhetoric
of a presentation in which the entire human genealogy quickly narrows to
the line that leads to Israel, for a moment rests on those most closely
related to Israel, that is his only brother Esau (1 Chron. 1.35-54) and then
to Israel itself. While one chapter is allocated to all the nations outside
Israel, there are eight assigned to Israel. Such a theological construction
of the world map reflects and shapes a conception about the centrality of
Israel.16 It also affects the way in which the genealogies are treated. For
instance, it creates a strong incentive to ‘streamline’ through omission in
1 Chron. 1.1-26.17 At other points, however, the Chronicler may add or
rearrange information in such a manner that subtly communicates a
particular theological position. A typical example is Chronicles’ opposi-
tion to the view expressed in Ezra-Nehemiah regarding marriage with
non-Israelites and ‘ethnic purity’.18 In all these cases, it is evident that the
narrative in which particular genealogical data are mentioned strongly
contributes to the ability of the data to communicate desired significance
to the rereadership of the book. Thus, the significance of the data, and at
points, the data itself seem malleable. Indeed there are numerous differ-
ences between the genealogical lists in 1 Chronicles 1-9 and those in its
sources.19
But it is also worth emphasizing that at all the crucial points for Israel’s
identity and for the construction of its place in the world, the Chronicler
follows tradition. Thus, Adam, Seth, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and
others all appear at their expected places. In fact, Chronicles communi-
cates the same basic construction of identity in terms of general humanity
(see the main signposts, i.e., Adam, Seth, Noah) and of Israel and its
neighbors that is developed in the patriarchal narratives. Even the concept
of ten generations between Adam and Noah and between Shem and
Abraham is maintained. Similarly, Saul remains a Benjaminite, and all the
kings of Judah are Davides, to mention only two obvious examples. The
question is why one does not find in Chronicles that Jacob or Israel20 is
Abraham’s son, or that humanity did not begin with Adam;21 or for that
matter that Ishmael, rather than Esau, is Israel’s brother?
The most likely answer to this question is that such claims would have
contradicted some known ‘facts’ (hereafter, facts) agreed upon by the com-
munity within which the book was composed and first read and reread
(i.e., ‘consumed’ as theological, cultural artifact). Yet there were facts and
facts. Not all facts were equal. If one assumes, as it is most likely, that this
community’s world of knowledge included the book of Genesis, other
pentateuchal books and those included in the collection of books usually
called the deuteronomistic history, then it is clear that the Chronicler

could and did omit, and even contradict, some of the facts mentioned
there. It seems, therefore, that a distinction was drawn between ‘core facts’
that cannot be challenged and all other facts, within the community within
which Chronicles was composed and read. Sure, genealogical changes or
shifts were possible within the community’s discourse, but outside the
core. The central genealogical elements that bear the main narrative of
Israel about itself stood already beyond the limits of historical malleability.
In fact, it is because Chronicles shares so much with the accepted
genealogical story of Israel about itself that it is able to persuade at least
some of its rereadership to accept or entertain the changes advanced in
the text. The Chronicler may subtly attempt to reduce the status of a
given fact by omitting or contradicting it, or may advance a particular
theological agenda, such as opposition to social and theological streams
that come to the forefront in Ezra–Nehemiah (see above). All in all it
seems that Chronicles’ ability to persuade the rereadership to consider
change required the Chronicler not to alter or contradict any of the central
pillars of the main genealogical (meta)narrative that provided a sense of
self-identification to Israel.22 One may go even further and ask how likely it
is for such a society of Israel (Jerusalem centered, Achaemenid period
Yehud) to raise a successful historian who would even wish to deny these
accepted facts?
2.2. Some Observations on the Kings of Judah

Chronicles imitates the regnal accounts in Kings, but as it is well known, it
also deviates from them on numerous occasions and for a number of rea-
sons. It is worth emphasizing, however, that Chronicles does not propose a
different list of kings of Judah. Chronicles reports the same kings and in
the same sequence as Samuel and Kings.23 This is particularly noteworthy,
since this does not hold true for positions of authority and legitimacy other
than kings in monarchic Judah. For instance, the list of prophets men-
tioned in Chronicles includes many who do not appear elsewhere, and at
least some are likely to be created in and shaped by the book of Chronicles.
In addition, not only does the book of Chronicles include high priests who
were not mentioned in Kings and Samuel, but it also presents a list of high
priests that communicates a sense of temporal expansions and contrac-
tions according to theological and rhetorical concerns.24 The Chronicler
and the intended (and primary) rereaders of the Chronicles could imagine,
communicate and accept a past of Israel populated by characters (includ-
ing a priestly elite) unknown from other sources, but there were limits to
such freedom. The composition of the regnal list itself was not an open
issue. It seems that within the discourse of the period any construction of
the past had to include the same list of Judahite kings advanced in the
book of Kings.25 There was room for historiographic innovation, but there
were limits to that innovation too.
Moreover, the book of Chronicles is only rarely completely consistent,26
but it is so in relation to the composition of the list of kings and also
regarding the length of the regnal periods (and the age of the king at
ascension). Chronicles does not deviate from the Masoretic Text of Kings
on those issues,27 no matter how much it deviates and even contradicts the
report in Kings about a particular monarch, and no matter the theological
difficulties that maintaining the length of regnal periods may involve.28
Elsewhere I developed the idea that inflexibility in this matter is deeply
associated with a particular construction of sequential time in Chronicles
and with the (implicit or explicit) notion of the king as a marker of social
and cosmic time. The latter, of course, reflects and communicates a very
high status for the Davidic king.29
Since the Chronicler was able to change much from the received sources
in relation to other aspects of the regnal accounts, it seems that from the
perspective of the Chronicler there were some ‘core facts’ agreed upon by
the community and expressed in the book of Kings about regnal accounts
that were beyond malleability. Other facts about them were malleable.
2.3. Some Considerations on the Northern Kingdom30

The division of the kingdom was one of the main events in the narrative of
Israel’s monarchic past in Yehud and among the literati elite within which
Chronicles was composed. According to their story about themselves, the
consequences of such a critical event were never erased. Hope for change
was left to a distant, utopian future.
As it is well known, Chronicles never grants legitimacy to the northern
kingdom. This attitude also affects the way in which it construes the his-
torical background of the split of the united monarchy – which is some-
what different from the one advanced in Kings. Still, it is important to
stress that Chronicles neither denies the division of David’s and Solomon’s
kingdom nor locates it in a different time period than does Kings. Accord-
ing to Chronicles, it happened just after the death of Solomon and at the
beginning of the reign of Rehoboam. Surely, Chronicles shapes the details
of the event to convey a particular meaning,31 but the basic ‘data’ associ-
ated with the event such as the matter at stake (i.e., the division of the
kingdom), the main characters involved, and the temporal reference, do
not seem to be changeable.
Chronicles refers to the northern kingdom as Israel – as was the case in

the discourse of the period. To be sure, this way of naming the northern
kingdom leads to a situation in which two contemporaneous polities were
referred to as ‘Israel’. The use of the term Israel for pointing to the north-
ern kingdom in opposition to or as separate from Judah is found in numer-
ous cases in Chronicles (e.g., 2 Chron. 13.12, 15-18; 16.1-4; 17.4; 18 passim;
20.35; 21.6), but the term ‘Israel’ is also used in the book to refer to Judah,
the only theologically legitimate polity of Israel during the post-Solomonic
monarchic period from the viewpoint of Chronicles (see 2 Chron. 12.5;
17.1; 20.29, 34; 21.2). In fact, the double meaning of Israel (i.e., as referring
to two different polities) comes to the forefront in passages in which the
two meanings appear in close textual proximity (see 2 Chron. 20.29, 34, 35;
21.2, 6). This situation, of course, calls attention to the question of which
polity ought to be considered Israel, which is important in Chronicles’
theology and reconstruction of the monarchic period.32 In addition, in
Chronicles – as in the general discourse of the period – the term ‘Israel’
points to the theological concept of Israel as YHWH’s people and as a
people with a particular past and commandments to follow.33 In sum, also
in Chronicles the term ‘Israel’ creates an ongoing ambiguity or, better,
potential or actual polyvalence that helps to construct the identity of the
intended rereadership, which is also Israel.34 Chronicles does not deviate
from the discourse of its time in this regard.35 In fact, this potential polyva-
lence is a theological, literary and meta-narrative necessity at some points
in the Chronicler’s narrative (see discussion on 1 Chron. 1.9 below).
To be sure, Chronicles removes anything that might suggest that the
northern kingdom as a polity is or was equal or even comparable to Judah
in theological (or ideological) terms. Chronicles does not recognize the
northern kings as legitimate kings of Israel, or their polity as YHWH’s
kingdom and house (contrast 2 Chron. 17.14). The removal of the reports
about the northern kings in Chronicles – which in Kings suggest that the
two kingdoms are at least potentially comparable – and the lack of explicit
temporal synchronisms between the Judahite and Israelite kings (except
in 2 Chron. 13.1) indicate that the kingdoms of Judah and Israel are not
similar from YHWH’s perspective – and should not be from that of the
Chronicler or the subsequent rereaders. In all this, Chronicles clearly
deviates from the source being imitated, namely Kings.
Still it is important to emphasize that Chronicles explicitly recognized
the kings of (northern) Israel as kings (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 16.1, 3; 18.3).
Moreover, although not all the kings of Israel are cited,36 those who are
mentioned in the narrative appear at their proper times, as the latter are
reported in the book of Kings. So Jeroboam is contemporary with Reho-

boam and Abijah, Asa with Baasha, Ahab and Ahaziah with Jehoshaphat,
Jehoram and Jehu with Ahaziahu,37 Jehoash with Amaziahu, and Pekah
with Ahaz. Further, notwithstanding the numerous differences in detail
and the significance of the accounts for the message of Chronicles, the
basic outline of the political interactions between the kings of Judah and
Israel are consistent with the world described in Kings.38
Moreover, although Chronicles does not reproduce the regnal accounts
about the kings of Israel that appear in the book of Kings, their presence is
felt in Chronicles. To illustrate this, the account of Rehoboam’s building
activities served as a/the (theologically proper) response to the report
about Jeroboam’s building activities in 1 Kgs 12.2539 and implies an author-
ship and rereadership of Chronicles that is aware of the latter. Signifi-
cantly, although Chronicles does not mention Jeroboam’s building
activities, it also does not deny the veracity of the account in Kings either.
Instead it deals with the resulting theological dissonance by advancing a
report about the far larger building activities of Rehoboam, the legitimate
king. Similarly, the exile of northern tribes under Tiglath-pileser III is not
mentioned in a place parallel to that in Kings, nor could have been within
the literary/theological frame governing the organization of Chronicles.
But such an exile is certainly part and parcel of the historical awareness of
the Chronicler and of the rereadership of Chronicles, as 1 Chron. 5.25-26
demonstrates. This historical awareness reflects the acceptance of a set of
facts about the past agreed upon by the community within which the
authorship and rereadership of Chronicles emerged.
In sum, the Chronicler could and did change details, omit references to
some known facts about the northern kingdom, and certainly shapes the
significance of those mentioned in Chronicles. At the same time there was
a set of core facts about the northern kingdom that was agreed upon within
the community/ies in which and for which Chronicles was written. Chroni-
cles not only does not contradict these agreed upon facts, but also, at
times, clearly assumes them.
2.4. Some Considerations on Major events in Judahite Monarchic History

Undoubtedly an important component of the memory of the monarchic
past was the conquest of Jerusalem. Although the details of the conquest in
Chronicles are different from those in 2 Samuel,40 the basic outline is
similar. In both cases, David marched against the Jebusite city, overcame
its resistance, and then rebuilt or repaired it after his conquest. The strong-
hold of the city is named ‘the city of David’, and David’s name became
greater and greater, for YHWH the Lord of Hosts was with him. Whereas
there was some flexibility with the details of the story, the basic outline
reflects what seems to be a set of facts agreed upon by the community,
which were not malleable.41
Another major event in the memory of Israel as construed in Yehud was
the construction of the (first) temple. Although Chronicles does almost
anything possible to lionize the figure of David and to construe him as the
true founder of the temple,42 it clearly maintains that Solomon was the
actual builder. In addition, Hiram/Huram remains an important secondary
character in the story. Further, the description of the dedication of the
temple and the report about Solomon’s prayer point again at a corpus of
facts agreed upon in Yehud. To be sure, there is abundant evidence that
minor changes in the recounting of the events associated with the building
of the temple were allowed – any comparison between the texts immedi-
ately shows them – but just as compelling is the evidence that there was a
set of core facts from which deviance was impossible.43
The same can be said of many other events in Judah’s history. For
instance, there is much variation between the Chronicler’s account of
Sennacherib’s confrontation with Hezekiah and the one reported in the
book of Kings.44 The significance of the story is substantially different.45
However, the core facts are shared: there was an Assyrian campaign, the
main characters remain the same, and the result of the campaign is identi-
cal. Significantly, the same can be said about the main outline of another
crucial event: the destruction of Jerusalem in Zedekiah’s time.
These examples can be multiplied. Whereas the Chronicler could shape
the stories of the past of monarchic Judah to a point and construe the sig-
nificance of events in new ways, the Chronicler did not – and could not –
deviate from the basic narrative outline and the basic set of core facts that
appeared in the books of Samuel and Kings. Although, it is important to
notice that Chronicles shows theologically motivated omissions, emenda-
tions, additions, explanations and the like, it is as important to notice and
emphasize that also here a set of core facts and outlines seemed to stand
beyond malleability.
2.5. Some Observations on ‘Missing’ Periods in the Israelite Story of their

Own Past, on Exodus, Exile, and ‘Empty Land’
S. Japhet wrote, ‘Chronicles presents a different view of history: the dimen-
sions of the Babylonian conquest and exile are reduced considerably, the
people’s settlement in the land is portrayed as an uninterrupted contin-
uum, and, in the same way, the constitutive force of the exodus from Egypt
is eliminated. Chronicles simply omits the entire historical context –

slavery, exodus, and conquest.’46 These words had an important impact on
the study of Chronicles. From the perspective of the endeavor taken up in
this paper, several relevant questions may be raised. Were the intended
and primary rereaders of Chronicles supposed to construe their past as
one characterized by an uninterrupted settlement in the land? And if so,
had Sinai – which is to say, outside the land – no role to play in such a
historical reconstruction? Turning to less theologically charged issues, but
still significant for the construction of the past of the rereadership, does it
follow from the fact that the main narrative about the story of the people
in the land begins with the death of Saul and the rise of David that the
intended and primary rereaders were supposed to construe their past with-
out Joshua, the conqueror of the land, or for that matter without Samuel,
since the story of his leadership as reported in 1 Samuel is not included in
Chronicles?
Several pieces of information are worth considering as one begins to
assess these questions.47 There is only one reference to Joshua the son of
Non in Chronicles (1 Chron. 7.27), but one must keep in mind that there
is only one too in the text that Chronicles imitates the most, namely
Samuel–Kings (1 Kgs 16.34). The reference to Joshua in 1 Chron. 7.27 is
at the conclusion of the genealogy of Ephraim. It suggests the presence of
a teleological perspective or awareness in this genealogy. Further, S. Japhet
correctly observed ‘the pedigree of Joshua the son of Non resembles that
of David in I Chron. 2.10-15, except that the formula is “X, Y his son”,
rather than “X begot Y” ’.48 This being so, it is unlikely that the community
of rereaders of Chronicles construed (a) the Chronicler as one who was
unaware of Joshua’s role in Israelite history,49 and (b) a history in which
Joshua had no role. In fact, it is very unlikely that the intended and primary
rereaders thought that they were asked by the Chronicler to construe a
picture of its past that did not include Joshua. The reason for the absence
of a direct reference to Joshua’s exploits in Chronicles must, therefore, be
found elsewhere. It would suffice at this point to state that this paper will
maintain that it has to do with the thematic structure of Chronicles.
Similarly, the story of Samuel’s leadership in 1 Samuel is also absent in
Chronicles. There is no parallel to that story, just as there is no parallel to
Joshua’s narrative. Does it mean that the Chronicler was construed as being
unaware of Samuel or that the rereadership of Chronicles was supposed to
be persuaded that there was no such character or that he was essentially
irrelevant? The answer to both questions is unequivocal and negative. To
begin with, Samuel is referred to in 1 Chron. 6.28, 33. Here the genealogy of
Samuel is attached to that of Kohath. The addition results in a genealogy

that is much longer than those of Gershom and Merari. As mentioned
above, genealogical time expands for important periods in Chronicles and
contracts for the less significant (see §2.2). In any case, the genealogy pro-
vides the required Levitical pedigree for Samuel, and it is based on the texts
1 Sam 1.1 and 1 Sam. 8.2.50 Samuel, the seer, is also mentioned in 1 Chron.
9.22, along with David, as those who established the gatekeepers in their
offices. Samuel appears as the prophetic (primary) recipient of YHWH’s
word regarding David’s anointing (see 1 Chron. 11.3), which is a major
event in history from the Chronicler’s perspective. Samuel is mentioned
also in relation to Saul, Abner and Joab in 1 Chron. 26.28. In 2 Chron. 35.18
he is characterized not only as a prophet but also as a leader of Israel.
Finally, there is a reference to Samuel also in 1 Chron. 29.29, which
characterizes him as a seer and writer and sets him in the time of David.
The case of Samuel illustrates the need for caution in reaching conclu-
sions from the non-appearance of a story where one would expect it to be,
if the Chronicler had been under full obligation to follow the so-called
deuteronomistic history in all its main narratives. The non-appearance of
a narrative may be due to many different factors. The study of the under-
standing(s) of the text within the milieu of its primary and intended
rereadership demands consideration of its world of knowledge, discourse
and the expectations that the text assumes from its intended rereaders.
It is worth stressing the role that one’s implied expectations may play in
discerning the significance of lack of reference to a character or to his or
her story. The case of Samuel in the book of Kings is helpful in this regard.
Samuel is not mentioned (at least explicitly) anywhere in the books of
Kings. To the best of my knowledge, no one concluded from this simple
observation that the rereaders of Kings were supposed to be persuaded by
the book that there was no Samuel, or that if there was such a character he
played no substantial role in the history of Israel. No one, to the best of my
knowledge, suggested that such was the intention of the author of Kings.
The reason for the absence of these proposals is clear: there was no expec-
tation for the presence of explicit references to Samuel in Kings. Although
the name or memory of Samuel could have been mentioned in Kings, this
was not necessary. The absence of references to him is explained – if
noticed at all – in terms of the thematic structure of 1 Kings. There was no
necessity to mention him to advance the book’s narrative and theological
claims. It is assumed that the primary rereadership did not require the
explicit mention of Samuel, and that both the author of Kings and the
rereadership were well aware of him.
In sum, the absence of references to a figure or event in the world of

knowledge of a community does not necessarily mean denial or even a
desire to downgrade such a figure or event. If this holds true for absence of
references, then how much more so for the lower profile that some per-
sons or events assume in the narrative.
With these considerations in mind, we may turn to the geographical
and theologically charged term ‘Sinai’. The word Sinai does not appear in
Chronicles, but a keen observer would recognize that it rarely appears
outside the Pentateuch (Judg. 5.5; Neh. 9.13 and Ps. 68.9, 18). Also, there is
only one reference to Horeb in Chronicles (2 Chron. 5.10), but again the
term ‘Horeb’ seldom appears outside the Pentateuch.51 Yet the text in
which it does occur in Chronicles is most instructive. It contains an
explicit reference to the two tables that Moses placed in the ark at Horeb,
when YHWH made a covenant with the children of Israel on their way out
of Egypt. It is self-evident that such a text assumes a rereadership familiar
with Moses, and whose reconstruction of history includes the covenant at
Horeb and the exodus from Egypt. In fact, the text not only utilizes such
knowledge for rhetorical purposes – the legitimization of the ark and of
Solomon’s activities – but also reaffirms it. The narrator’s reference to
these matters in 2 Chron. 5.10 is further supported by the text of the
quotation from YHWH’s promise that the Chronicler places in Solomon’s
mouth.52 It contains the phrase ‘since the day I brought my people out of
the land of Egypt’ (2 Chron. 6.5). The text directly evokes the exodus nar-
rative, along with its main human character (i.e., Moses) and the associ-
ated theophanies. References to the exodus also appear in 1 Chron. 17.21
and 2 Chron. 7.22 (and cf. 1 Chron. 17.15).
References to Moses are not rare at all in Chronicles,53 despite the fact
that there is no account of the exodus or of the Sinai/Horeb event in the
place that one would assume it to be, had the Chronicler been obliged or
desired to follow the main story line of the Primary History in all its main
subnarratives. Moses is mentioned in 1 Chron. 6.34; 15.15; 21.29; 22.13;
23.15; 26.24; 2 Chron. 1.3; 5.10; 8.13; 23.18; 24.6, 9; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14;
35.6, 12. He is explicitly associated with the exodus and the Horeb
covenant (2 Chron. 5.10), Israel’s stay in the wilderness (‫ ;במדבר‬1 Chron.
21.29; 2 Chron. 24.9), the ‘Tent of Meeting’ (‫ ;אהל מועד‬2 Chron. 1.3), the
tabernacle (1 Chron. 21.29), Aaron and implicitly with Israel’s worship in
the wilderness (1 Chron. 6.34), the cultic regulations for the three main
festivals (2 Chron. 8.13) and, of course, with Torah or the book of Torah or
the word of YHWH in his hand (2 Chron. 23.18; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14;
35.6, 12). There is nothing surprising about these references. Moses, and
all the mentioned themes associated with him, had a prominent place in
the world of knowledge and discourse of the society within which and for
which Chronicles was composed. Moreover, Chronicles assumes and inter-
prets many of the instructions and laws in the Pentateuch, especially those
regarding the cult.54 In fact, at times Chronicles attempts to harmonize
them.55 In any event, such a process of interpretation and harmonization
assumes the authority of the texts that are interpreted and harmonized.
But if Pentateuchal texts (and particularly Exodus-Deuteronomy) are
important for the theology of Chronicles – as indeed they are56 – then how
can one expect the Chronicler or the literati for whom the book of Chroni-
cles was primarily written57 to be dismissive (or ignorant) of the main
claims of these texts about Moses, the exodus, Sinai/Horeb, the covenant
or the stay in the wilderness?
Within this social, theological and historical context it is certain that
the Chronicler was construed by the intended and primary rereadership
of the book as one who is aware of core facts associated with these events
in the Pentateuch and in much of biblical literature, in which allusions to
them are abundant. In this regard, the Chronicler was not imagined dif-
ferent from the rereadership at all.58
Turning to the question of ‘the exile’. It is obviously true that the book
conveys a clear sense that the exile is temporally limited (see 2 Chron.
36.21) and that this limitation reflects and reaffirms Israel’s authoritative
literature (as interpreted by Chronicles).59 It is also true that the book
looks beyond the exile and that it even begins to construe time in a new
manner for an Israel (Yehud) in which there are no kings of Judah (see
below). Yet it does not follow from any of these considerations that the
exile is negated – nor, for that matter, the constitutive myth of the com-
munity in Yehud, namely the one about exilic Israel returning to an empty
land to rebuild the temple when Persia ruled.
The (Babylonian) exile is explicitly mentioned in Chronicles as 1 Chron.
9.1 and 2 Chron. 36.11-20, and at the expected time, during the expected
reign. The exile of Judah was not only total in Chronicles (see 2 Chron.
36.20) but had to be total since according to Chronicles the land had to be
desolate for 70 years to fulfill its sabbaths (following the Chronicler’s
understanding and harmonization of Lev. 26.34-35, 43 and Jer. 25.11-12;
29.10).60 If the land was desolate and uninhabited, then any community
settling in the land after Zedekiah must come from outside the land. The
text makes clear that such a community emerged from the Judeans exiled
to Babylonia (2 Chron. 36.20-23). Such an understanding is consistent with
numerous postmonarchic texts and has important implications concern-

ing the concept of Israel.61
As mentioned above (§2.3), at times the potential polyvalence of the
term Israel turned into a theological, literary and meta-narrative necessity.
The best example of this case in Chronicles is directly relevant to the issue
of exile. 1 Chronicles 1.9 states first that ‘all Israel was enrolled by gene-
alogies’. Obviously, the Chronicler could not have used ‘Judah’ to refer to
all the tribes and groups whose genealogies precede the verse in the book.
Although the signifier remains ‘Israel’ and so textual cohesion is main-
tained, the signified (i.e., the referent of Israel) changes in the next clause
in the same verse, for it reads ‘all Israel was enrolled by genealogies and
these were written in the Book of the Kings of Israel’. The same book is
mentioned in 2 Chron. 20.34 and 2 Chron. 33.18. Since the kings referred
to are the kings of Judah, and since one of them (Manasseh) reigned after
the destruction of the northern kingdom, it is clear that the referent of the
word ‘Israel’ in these verses is not the northern, but rather the southern
kingdom, namely, Judah. Moreover, even without the other references to
the book, it is extremely unlikely that the Chronicler would have claimed
that the best (only?) source for the genealogies of all Israel is the book that
reports the deeds of the kings of the northern kingdom. It is much more
likely that kings mentioned in 1 Chron. 1.9 are the kings of Judah, and that
since their kingdom is the only legitimate polity of Israel, it was called
‘Israel’ (cf. 2 Chron. 12.5; 17.1; 20.29, 34; 21.2). Textual cohesion and meta-
narrative cohesion are maintained by a subtle shift from ‘Israel’ as the
whole of the tribes to ‘Israel’ as a theologically viewed kingdom, namely
Judah in practical terms. This subtle shift is necessary for maintaining the
textual and theological cohesion of the entire verse, which as a whole
reads, ‘all Israel was enrolled by genealogies and these were written in the
Book of the Kings of Israel. But Judah [i.e., the “Israel” whose kings were
noted in the previous clause] was taken into exile because of their unfaith-
fulness.’ Significantly, the text then moves to a description of new commu-
nity of Israel formed by the returning exiles (1 Chron. 9.2-38) in Judah (=
Yehud).62
Whereas there are historiographical and theological reasons that proba-
bly required that Chronicles end with the reference to Cyrus’ words about
the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem, they do not necessarily apply to
the genealogies. Here, the Chronicler could complete the presentation of
Israel by pointing to the new, postmonarchic, Persian period community
or commonwealth of Israel (1 Chronicles 9) centered on Jerusalem and its
temple.63
Further, Chronicles not only looks beyond the exile, but it also consid-
ers it to be a turning point: it is at this point of destruction and exile that
the sequential time – so consistently construed in regnal terms – ceases.
Significantly, it is replaced in the book with a construction of time in terms
of a textual centeredness, with an emphasis on the coherence, consistency
and legitimacy of the authoritative texts on the one hand and astronomic
or cosmic data on the other.64
In sum, it is not only that Chronicles does not deny the exile, but also
that the motif of the exile and much of its mythical and theological roles in
the discourse of Persian-period Yehud are still present in Chronicles, even
if they are not salient in the narrative.65
3. Conclusions
3.1. On the Reason for ‘Missing’ Accounts or for Slight References
to Them
As mentioned above, the exile and return were not highlighted in Chroni-
cles. Similarly, anyone who reads Chronicles against the background of
the Primary History immediately recognizes that there are no parallels in
Chronicles to many important stories (e.g., exodus, Sinai) and descriptions
of entire periods (e.g., Judges, Samuel) in the Primary History. It has been
shown again and again that these supposed ‘lacks’ should not be construed
as evidence for a denial or for an implied request to dismiss or devaluate
the periods that are not mentioned, nor their main figures. In fact, these
precise figures (e.g., Moses) may be found to hold a central position in the
Chronicles’ theology.
The Chronicler’s choice not to describe these events or periods – nor
even to refer to them in significant ways66 – is better explained in terms
of the Chronicler’s design for the book. Chronicles sets Israel among
the nations and structures in genealogical lines, and moves quickly and
directly to the (hi)story of the legitimate kingdom of Israel (i.e., the ‘united
kingdom’ of David and Solomon and then Judah). Just as it includes a
glimpse of the period leading to the establishment of this kingdom, it
contains a glance at the period that follows the fall of monarchic Judah and
looks in particular towards the establishment of the new commonwealth
in Yehud. The focus on this monarchic polity is consistent with the fun-
damental importance given to Jerusalem and particularly to the temple
(and the legitimization of the second temple in terms of the first), which
are central theological themes in Chronicles.67
3.2. On Core Facts Accepted by the Community about its Past and their
Implications
This paper has pointed again and again at a set of ‘core facts’ about Israel’s
past that were agreed upon by the literate elite of Yehud. The Chronicler
did not challenge these core facts. Nor is it likely that the author(s) of
Chronicles could have done so, even had they wished to, which is itself an
unlikely proposition. It is implausible that ancient Yehudite historians
would have simply decided to deny the core facts ‘agreed by all’ in their
society, particularly those that provided the basis for the main narrative
that provides a sense of self-definition and identity to their community.
Even if such an individual were to be found, then it would have been
extremely unlikely that the community of literati would have accepted
such an innovation. The production of a history of Israel – the construc-
tion of the people’s past – is a social phenomenon. Its writing and later
reading and rereading did not take place in a vacuum, but in a social land-
scape in which discursive and theological expectations (as well as a par-
ticular world of knowledge) existed. Although the proposition of alternative
facts was certainly a possibility within this milieu, as Chronicles clearly
demonstrates, some core elements of the history of Israel agreed upon
among the Yehudite elite were not subject to revision.
Finally, the report of facts per se is not necessarily the domain of history
writing. History writing, also in antiquity, involved explaining the facts
mentioned. The Chronicler offered an explanation of the accepted core
facts, on the basis of a particular and quite balanced theology and on histo-
riographical and literary considerations.68 To be sure, these explanations
may develop a power of their own, and their logic sometimes questions
aspects of received narratives. Thus, historical explanations begin a proc-
ess of ‘improving’ the construction of the past by adding what was likely to
have happened and omitting what was unlikely to have happened. Core,
agreed facts, however, are unlikely to be subject to such a process since
people were sure that they had happened.
Endnotes
* This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as
‘Shifting the Gaze: Historiographic Constraints in Chronicles and their Implications’, in
M. Patrick Graham and J. Andrew Dearman (eds.), The Land That I Will Show You:
Essays on the History and Archaeology of the Ancient Near East in Honor of J. Maxwell
Miller (JSOTSup, 343; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 2001), pp. 38-60. The original publication
opened with the following note: ‘It is with great pleasure and humility that I dedicate to
Max this paper on ancient history and historiography, two topics that are close to his
heart. May it serve as a small token of my gratitude for all the support he provided my
family and me during my period of graduate study at Emory and for his friendship
since.’ I wish to express my gratitude to T&T Clark International/Continuum Press for
allowing me to republish this contribution in the present volume.
1. On historiographic and literary considerations that influenced the writing of
Chronicles, see I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles
(Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005).
2. This type of issues has been discussed, in one way or another, numerous times
in articles in History and Theory. See, for instance, L. Hölscher, ‘The New Annalistic:
A Sketch of a Theory of History’, History and Theory 36 (1997), pp. 317-35.
3. ‘Narrative’ is here understood in a broad sense.
4. Who likely resembled the actual author/s of Chronicles on this matter.
5. See John Van Seters, ‘Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible’, SR 29 (2000), pp.
395-409.
6. To be sure, by ‘fact’ here and hereafter in this paper I do not mean something
that actually happened, but something that was thought to have happened (e.g., the
first of humankind was Adam).
7. They may be conducive to a better understanding of similar processes at dif-
ferent times, e.g., Josephus’ times.
8. It goes without saying that the fact that we know the main sources of Chronicles
makes this analysis feasible. Josephus’ works serve as the other excellent case study that
may be used, but it belongs to another time period.
Notwithstanding Auld’s claims to the contrary, this work assumes that Chronicles
was based on and largely imitated the texts included in the so-called deuteronomistic
history. The Chronicler was also knowledgeable of such sources as Pentateuchal
traditions or texts, the text of some Psalms and most likely some prophetic books.
Auld’s position is expressed in A.G. Auld, Kings without Privilege: David and Moses in
the Story of the Bible’s Kings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994); idem, ‘What Was the Main
Source of the Books of Chronicles?’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The
Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1999), pp. 91-99; idem, ‘What If the Chronicler Did Use the Deuter-
onomistic History?’, in J.C. Exum (ed.), Virtual History and the Bible (Leiden: E.J. Brill,
2000), pp. 137-50.
10. The paper was published in 2003, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits:
Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in
a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 2003), 73-105.
11. It should be noted that the readership of the book is most likely and most often
a rereadership, since the book was read and reread. So it is more precise to refer to
rereadership than to readership. All further references will be to rereadership.
12. Biblical authors were not constrained by ‘copyright’ nor did they have to men-
tion the actual written sources they used. To copy them when there was nothing of
substance at stake was not only simpler, but also probably conveyed an aura of author-
ity to the writing.
13. Or following Chronicles’ theology, ‘Israel’s monarchic history’. On the concept of
‘Israel’, see below.
14. See M. Oeming, Das wahre Israel: Die ‘genealogische Vorhalle’ 1 Chronik 1–9
(BWANT, 128; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1990).
15. On genealogies in Chronicles, see among others, G. Knoppers, ‘Shem, Ham and
Japheth: The Universal and the Particular in the Genealogy of Nations’, in M.P.
Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian:
Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp.
13-31; idem, ‘Greek Historiography and the Chronicler’s History: A Reexamination’,
JBL 122 (2003), pp. 627-50; idem, I Chronicles 1-9, esp. pp. 245-65; G. Snyman, ‘A
Possible World of Text Production for the Genealogy in 1 Chronicles 2.3–4.23’, in
Graham, et al. (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian, pp. 32-60; Y. Levin, ‘From Lists to
History: Chronological Aspects of the Chronicler’s Genealogies’, JBL 123 (2004), pp.
601-36; idem, ‘Who Was the Chronicler’s Audience? A Hint from his Genealogies’, JBL
122 (2003), pp. 229-45; and W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. I. 1 Chronicles 1–2
Chronicles 9. Israel’s Place among the Nations (JSOTSup, 253; Sheffield: Sheffield Aca-
demic Press, 1997. Some issues relevant to genealogies are discussed in Chapters 7 and
9.
16. It goes without saying that this kind of self-conception was most common in the
ancient world (cf., with the understanding of Assyria, Egypt and Babylon of their place
in the ‘universe’). Needless to say, similar viewpoints have been attested in numerous
polities throughout history, including modern days.
17. All the names in 1 Chronicles 1 are derived from Genesis. On these lists see esp.
Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, I, pp. 24-36.
18. See S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical
Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 346-51; cf.
G.N. Knoppers, ‘ “Great among his Brothers”, But Who Is He? Social Complexity and
Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah’, Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 3.6 (2000),
esp. §6.11 and 7.1; see idem, ‘Intermarriage, Social Complexity and Ethnic Diversity in
the Genealogy of Judah’, JBL 120 (2001), pp. 15-30. See also Chapter 9.
19. See A. Bendavid, Parallels in the Bible (Jerusalem: Carta, 1972), pp. 14-30. Minor
differences appear even within Chronicles itself and cf. 1 Chron. 8.29-38 and 1 Chron.
9.35-44.
20. Chronicles (MT) prefers the name ‘Israel’ over ‘Jacob’ in the genealogical section
(see 1 Chron. 1.34; 2.1) in which the concept of ‘the children of Israel’ is reflected,
communicated and set in the background of all humanity (but see also 1 Chron. 16.13).
21. The Chronicler could and did omit Eve, but could not begin a world history
without mentioning Adam or claim that someone other than Adam was the first man.
Gender counted.
22. Other implications will be discussed in §3.
23. Sometimes the names by which the kings are designated are different. For
instance, Kings tends to use the name ‘Azariah’, but Chronicles refers to the same king
as ‘Uzziah’. Still, the Chronicler learned from Kings that this king could be referred to
by two names (Azariah and Uzziah; see 2 Kgs 15.30, 32, 34), the name may be different
but the persona is the same. In fact, Kings’ use of the name ‘Azariah’ seems to have
influenced the composition of the report about him in Chronicles (see 2 Chron. 26.7,
15 and general tenor of the passage). The preference for the name Uzziah may be
related to the presence in Chronicles of another character, the prophet Azariah who
confronts Uzziah/Azariah. On these matters see, I.L. Seeligmann, ‘The Beginnings of
Midrash in the Books of Chronicles’ (Hebrew title ‘‫)’ניצני בספר דברי הימים‬, Tarbiz 49
(1979/80), pp. 14-32 (15-16); H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand
Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 333-34. Slight shifts in the form of the name, such as
‫ יחזקיהו‬instead of ‫חזקיה‬, or the more theologically satisfying ‫ אביה‬instead of ‫– אבים‬
though see S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox
Press, 1993), pp. 683-84 – are of no relevance for the issue at stake here, since the
referent of the name, no matter how they are written, is clearly the same king.
24. Four generations are allocated to the time of Solomon, four to the time between
Solomonic Azariah to the reform of Josiah (i.e., well over 300 years in Chronicles’ main
sequential timeline), and four to the approximately 50 years in that timeline that spans
from Josiah (including his entire reign) and the destruction of Jerusalem. On this
matter see E. Ben Zvi, ‘About Time: Observations about the Construction of Time in
the Book of Chronicles’, HBT 22 (2000), pp. 17-31 (reprinted in Chapter 7 of this
volume). (The question of whether these connoted expansions and contractions of
time are the result of redactional activity is irrelevant for the purpose of the present
discussion, since the primary and intended rereaders of Chronicles in its present form
were not asked to read it in such a way that would discard portions of it as ‘secondary’.
They accessed a list, and this list of high priests connoted a clear construction of time.)
25. The same holds true for Josephus, for instance.
26. From the viewpoint of the primary (re)readers of Chronicles (and from that of
the implied author of the book, i.e., the Chronicler), this lack of ‘consistency’ is not an
incidental matter that it is best to ignore, but an important theological marker. It
provides a sense of theological proportion to the book. See Chapter 8.
27. Contrast with LXX Kings or Josephus.
28. On all these issues see Chapter 7.
29. See Chapter 7.
30. For a detailed discussion of the secession of the northern kingdom in Chronicles
see Chapter 6.
31. See Chapter 6 and cf. G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Vic-
tim?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 423-40.
32. Cf. Chapter 10.
33. See, e.g., the construction of the past that begins with the genealogies, the
references to Moses and the divine commandments associated with him (see 2 Chron.
5.10; 8.13; 23.18; 24.6, 9; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14; 35.6; 35.12), Saul, David, Solomon and
the Jerusalem Temple, as well as the one to its precursor, the tent of meeting that
Moses made in the wilderness (see 2 Chron. 1.3), and Davidic instructions concerning
the way in which the ‘work’ of the temple is supposed to be carried out.
34. The use of the term Israel with multiple meanings in Chronicles and the way it
expresses a certain theology and develops identity through its tensions is similar to the
one present in Micah 1. See E. Ben Zvi, Micah (FOTL, 21b; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2000), pp. 30-31.
To be sure, there are constraints on the level of freedom assigned to this polisemy.
At times, the potential for theologically unacceptable formulations, which may derive
particularly from the use of the term Israel for the northern kingdom, led to the pres-
ence of some unequivocal sign in the text that serves to mark the referent as the
northern kingdom only. This may be achieved by presenting a contrast between Judah
and Israel (e.g., 2 Chronicles 13), or by the addition of fool-proof disambiguating
clauses (e.g., 2 Chron. 25.7).
35. On this aspect of the discourse of postmonarchic Israel, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion
in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the Term “Israel” in Post-
monarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy (eds.), The Pitcher Is
Broken. Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190; Sheffield: JSOT Press,
1995), pp. 95-149.
36. And why should they? According to the theological organization of the book, the
regnal accounts in Chronicles deal with the kings of Judah. The kings of Israel are to be
mentioned when it is necessary for the narrative, i.e., only when they interacted with
Judah. It is important to stress that this policy of omission does not imply at all a denial
of their existence. It simply communicates a negative stance concerning the place they
should take in the historical memory of the community within which and for which
Chronicles was composed, and concerning their significance in the large historical
scheme of (theological) Israel. Moreover, these omissions result from the decision to
report only the regnal accounts of Judah, so as to avoid any suggestion of comparability
between the two policies.
37. Ahaziahu is called ‘Azariah’ in 2 Chron. 22.6 and ‘Ahaziahu’ in the rest of the
chapter. Both names refer to the same individual, as the context unequivocally requires.
38. For instance, Pekah attacked Ahaz, and there was war between Rehoboam and
Jeroboam or Asa and Baasha, but peace and alliance between Ahab and Jehoshaphat.
39. See Chapter 5 and the bibliography mentioned there.
40. Cf. 2 Sam. 5.6-10 with 1 Chron. 11.4-9.
41. Cf. Josephus, Ant. 7.61-65.
42. Cf. W. Riley, King and Cultus in Chronicles: Worship and Reinterpretation of
History (JSOTSup, 160; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993). Temples in antiquity were estab-
lished by royal orders. The second temple was established by the orders of a Persian
king, but the legitimization of the temple mainly in terms of Persian kings was theo-
logically difficult. The legitimization of the second temple and its worship was depend-
ent on its being a continuation of the first. There is the wholly expected emphasis on
the Mosaic basis for the first (and second) temple and its worship, but Chronicles
construes a past in which the Davidic king par excellence, David, organizes its worship
in detail. The result is that David, rather than a Persian king, becomes the actual
founder of the temple – first and second – at the symbolic and theological level. See
E. Ben Zvi, ‘What Is New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking
(eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR,
5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-48.
43. Cf. Josephus, Ant. 8.61-129.
44. Or in Isaiah, for that matter.
45. See Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits’.
46. Japhet, Ideology, p. 386.
47. Cf. Z. Kallai, ‘The Explicit and Implicit in Biblical Narrative’, in J.A. Emerton
(ed.), Congress Volume Paris 1992 (SVT 61; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1995), pp. 107-17.
48. Since ‘Chronicler’ here stands for the implied author (or communicator) of the
book, it is construed by the rereadership.
49. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 183.
50. On these matters, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 153-54.
51. 1 Kgs 5.9; 19.8; Mal. 3.22; Ps. 106.19. Most of the references to Horeb in the
Pentateuch are, of course, in Deuteronomy.
52. Solomon is certainly characterized here as a reliable character.
53. Alternatively, E.M. Dörrfuss (Mose in den Chronikbüchern: Garant theokra-
tischer Zukunftserwartung [BZAW, 219; Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1994]) has argued that
these references to Moses are typically the product of later redactional activity.
54. See, e.g., the following statement by H.G.M. Williamson: ‘…it should be noted
that, despite appearances, there is no superseding of the Mosaic regulations. The
Chronicler repeatedly affirms, either by explicit reference or allusion, that as far as was
practicable the worship of the temple was ordered in conformity with the stipulations
of the Pentateuch’, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 30.
55. See, for instance, M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 135-38.
56. It is worth noting that the Pentateuchal books are more authoritative than Kings
or Samuel in Chronicles. On these matters see Seeligmann, ‘Beginnings of Midrash’.
57. After all, it is a written text whose reading and rereading requires a high level of
literacy.
58. In blunt terms, claims that David brought the children of Israel out of Egypt, that
the covenant of Horeb took place in Solomon’s days, that associate YHWH’s Torah
with Hezekiah rather than Moses, that there was no exodus or that Israel should not
care much whether there was an exodus or a Sinai event – as construed by postmonar-
chic communities – would have been unthinkable within that society of literati.
59. Cf. 2 Chron. 36.21-22 with Lev. 26.34-35, 43 and Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10. As I have
discussed elsewhere, the language of 2 Chron. 26.21 recalls and makes explicit the
explanation of the exile and the promise of hope that are implicit in Lev. 26.14-45. As
such, it associates the text with a sense of fulfillment and of legitimacy. The 70 years are
explicitly related to Jeremiah (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22; cf. Jer 25.11-12; 29.10). One of
the results of this activity is a legitimization of the prophetic text that is carried out by
the explicit reference to its fulfillment. In addition, the fact that it closely links the
prophetic text to the Leviticus text serves to create a sense of harmony and coherence
among sources that are authoritative for the Chronicler and the community within
which and for which the Chronicles was composed. On these matters see Chapter 7
and the bibliography mentioned there.
60. See preceding note.
61. I discussed some of these matters in Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from
Israel’.
62. Whether 1 Chron. 9.2-17 is based on Neh. 11.3-19 or vice versa, the textual rela-
tion between the two texts clearly shows an ancient understanding of the text in
Chronicles as referring to the postmonarchic community. The reference to the exile of
Judah in 1 Chron. 9.1 makes such a referent far more likely than any possible
alternative (cf. already Radak; see Miqraot Gedolot, note on 1 Chron. 9.1, ‘And Judah
was carried away into exile to Babylon for their unfaithfulness’). Of course, if the
reference to Judah’s exile is removed from the text, or if its value is downgraded on the
claim that it is secondary, then a different text is created. The same holds true for
emendations to the phrase ‘the Book of the Kings of Israel’. One may contrast this
approach with that advanced in Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 206-208.
The references to Benjamin, or Ephraim and Manasseh (1 Chron. 9.3-9) do not
necessarily point to a return of people other than those exiled from monarchic Judah
(cf. Neh. 11.3-19). See also E. Ben Zvi, A Historical-Critical Study of the Book of
Obadiah (BZAW, 242; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 197-229. It bears
noting that Chronicles indicates the presence of people from tribes other than Judah in
Jerusalem or Judah in monarchic times (see 2 Chron. 11.13-17; 35.18).
63. It bears noting that the generations of Davides also continue well beyond the
time of the Babylonian exile in 1 Chronicles 3.
64. See Chapter 7.
65. On the importance of the concept of exile for the Chronicler see J.E. Dyck, The
Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998).
66. It goes without saying that there is no need to expect manifold references to an
event, when the main account of such an event is not included in Chronicles, because
of the reasons mentioned below. On the other hand, there is no need to assume that
the Chronicler would systematically erase all references to such an event in the sources
that were available for and imitated in the writing of Chronicles. Of course, if there is
no expectation of full or consistent mention, there is no ‘absence’ too. Contrast this
approach with that advanced in Japhet, Ideology, pp. 380-84, esp. pp. 382-83.
67. As an aside, one may mention the case of an opposite topical selection, namely
Pseudo-Philo.
68. On the aspect of balance in the Chronicler’s thought, see Chapter 8. On histo-
riographic and literary considerations, see I. Kalimi, Reshaping of Ancient Israelite
History.
Chapter 5
THE CHRONICLER AS A HISTORIAN: BUILDING TEXTS*
The Chronicler1 presents to the readers of 1–2 Chronicles a number of

reports about building activities outside Jerusalem. These reports explicitly
associate the activities with particular kings of Judah and with Solomon
(see 2 Chron. 8.4-6; 11.5-12; 14.5-6; 16.6; 17.12-13; 26.2, 6, 10; 27.4; 32.29)
and likely serve multiple functions in the shaping of the message of 1–2
Chronicles for its readers. This thematic paper will address the question of
how these specific accounts illuminate both the historiographical work of
the Chronicler and the value of the Chronicler’s testimony for a critical
reconstruction of the history of Judah in the monarchical period. To this
purpose, it will first attempt to clarify basic methodological issues and
premises underlying the study of these accounts. Then it will address in
particular the reports that have no parallel in Kings and will advance a
proposal concerning the criterion that led to their inclusion in Chronicles.
Finally, it will explore the implications of this criterion for the study of the
Chronicler’s historiography and for the use of Chronicles in the recon-
struction of monarchical Israelite and Judahite history.
1. Methodological Issues
On the surface, the most natural approach to the study of the building
accounts and their respective degrees of historical accuracy (as understood
in modern historical-critical research; hereafter and simply, accuracy or
historical accuracy) is to take them at face value and then compare their
specific claims with archaeological evidence. It is no surprise, therefore,
that appeals to archaeology to prove or disprove the historical reliability of
the Chronicler have been repeatedly made since the second half of the
nineteenth century.2
However, the potential results of this method, at least in our case, are
somewhat limited. An obvious and substantial limitation of this approach
is that it involves the well-known difficulties in dating archaeological
5. The Chronicler as a Historian 101
findings to the reign of a certain monarch rather than to larger and less
well-defined periods, such as ‘the seventh century BCE’, without relying on
the biblical information. If biblical information were used, then such a
dating would be another case of circular argumentation, and as such would
be unconvincing from a critical perspective.
On the other hand, it is true that archaeological data may undermine
the argument in favor of the historical accuracy of the ostensible claims of
historical narratives, or even render them unlikely beyond redemption.
Such is the case concerning the claim of a single conquest campaign in the
book of Joshua. Turning to the building accounts in Chronicles, Funk, for
instance, maintains that ‘on the basis of the archaeological evidence, it is
difficult to account for the Chronicler’s attribution of the rebuilding of
Beth-Zur to Rehoboam’.3 Funk’s conclusion – if correct, and so it seems
to be – clearly undermines the argument for the historical accuracy of
2 Chron. 11.7 in particular, and of 2 Chron. 11.5-10 in general.
Moreover, the building reports themselves are not all of one kind. For
the purpose of this article, it would be helpful to distinguish between those
in which the text of Chronicles follows that of Kings – or its source – as in
2 Chron. 8.4-6 (//1 Kgs 9.17-19, to a large extent),4 2 Chron.16.6 (//1 Kgs
15.22), and 2 Chron. 26.2 (//2 Kgs 14.22), and those accounts that are
unique to Chronicles. In the former, since Chronicles rests on Kings – or
its source – the issue at stake is that of the accuracy of the information
given in Kings.5 Most significantly, the reports that are unique to Chroni-
cles (i.e., unparalleled in Kings) – with the exception of 2 Chron. 11.5-10,
which will be discussed below – are among the building reports least
amenable to the ‘archaeological approach’ in the entire Hebrew Bible,
because of the vagueness of their claims, as even a cursory reading of these
texts shows:
(2 Chron. 14.5) …‫כי‬ ‫ויבן ערי מצורה ביהודה‬
(2 Chron. 17.12) ‫ויבן ביהודה בירניות וערי‬
(2 Chron. 26.6) ‫ויבנה ערים באשדוד ובפלשתים‬
(2 Chron. 26.10) …‫ויבן מגדלים במדבר ויחצב ברות רבים כי‬
(2 Chron. 27.4) ‫וערים בנה בהר־יהודה ובחרשים בנה בירניות ומגדלים‬
(2 Chron. 32.29)6 …‫וערים עשה לו ומקנה־צאן ובקר לרב כי‬
Furthermore, it is certainly to be expected that, for instance, some

towers in the wilderness were built and some cisterns were hewed out in
the approximate half-century assigned to the reign of Uzziah (see 2 Chron.
27.10). Of course, the same holds true for many other regnal periods in
Judah, or anywhere in the ancient Near East.7
This being so, archaeological evidence pointing to towers and cisterns in

Judah dating to the first half of the eighth century BCE does not and cannot
contribute significantly to our understanding of historiographical aspects
in Chronicles, nor even to the issue of the (intended) historical accuracy of
the Chronicler, unless one assumes beforehand that the Chronicler could
not have told the readers of Chronicles about the building of cisterns by
Uzziah (and fortresses by Jehoshaphat and the like), unless these activities
were described in a historically reliable source that was considered such
by the author of Chronicles.8
In general terms, the methodological issue at stake here is ultimately
that of ad verecundiam, that is, concerns with the appeal to authority. In
this case, the appeal is to the authority of the Chronicler.9 Hence, as in any
case of an appeal to authority, the weight of the appeal depends on: (1) an
understanding of the statement of the authority that is faithful to its
intentions and that takes into account the conventions of its discourse, and
(2) the competence of the authority on the subject under discussion. It
follows, therefore, that the validity of the appeal to the testimony of the
Chronicler regarding the accounts discussed here – and for the purpose
of reconstructing the history of monarchic Judah – depends on two inde-
pendent items.
First, it depends on one’s understanding of the Chronicler’s historical/
theological narrative in general, and of the building reports in particular, as
texts written under the social and literary (genre) requirement that they
should be historically accurate – at least within the limit of the Chroni-
cler’s knowledge.10 Alternatively, at the very least, it depends on the strength
of the argument that the mentioned reports, or their basic claims, had to
be anchored in historical knowledge about specific and concrete actions
(or lack of actions) of Judahite kings, both thought to be historically accu-
rate by the author of Chronicles and acceptable as such by the reading
community for which the book was written.11
Second, the appeal to Chronicles as a source for historically reliable
information about the pre-exilic period depends on the Chronicler’s exper-
tise concerning building projects carried out during the monarchic period,
outside Jerusalem; or, alternatively, on the existence of sources underlying
the relevant reports in Chronicles that fulfill the aformentioned two crite-
ria. Of course, the latter can be considered an option only if a strong
argument can be made that (1) these sources really existed, and (2) the
Chronicler faithfully (re)presented them.12
It follows, therefore, that the decisive observations about these accounts
concern themselves with: (1) the likelihood that there were sources
underlying them; (2) if there were, the extent to which they can be
reasonably reconstructed from Chronicles; (3) if there were and they can
be reconstructed, the issue of how to assess the strength of an appeal to
their authority; (4) turning to Chronicles itself, the image of the past
conveyed by these accounts and its implications concerning the histo-
riographical craft of the author of Chronicles; and finally, (5) the question
of whether the Chronicler’s building reports had to be anchored in what
was regarded as accurate historical information.
That the image of the past conveyed by the Chronicler through these
reports need not be accurate is self-evident once one recognizes the rela-
tive scarcity of kings mentioned. To illustrate, is it historically likely that
Josiah, who reigned for several prosperous decades, never built anything?
Should all the development in the seventh century in Judah be associated
with Manasseh? It is significant that even if for the sake of the case one
accepted such a position, the Chronicler does not claim that Manasseh
built or rebuilt any town in Judah (see 2 Chron. 33.12-17). In fact, the
Chronicler does not report any royal building activity in Judah’s country-
side after Hezekiah, and the relevant (?) reference to events in Hezekiah’s
reign is not certain.13
It seems difficult to maintain that although the author of Chronicles
had no knowledge about construction projects in Judah’s countryside since
Hezekiah, this writer knew about such projects in the eighth and ninth
centuries (i.e., that narrative gaps in Chronicles correspond to source/
knowledge gaps). Such a proposal is not only unsupported by evidence, but
it is also an unnecessary ad hoc hypothesis, whose sole function is to sup-
port the view that Chronicles would not have omitted ‘historical’
information if available, a position contradicted by any close comparison
between Kings and Chronicles.14
An additional question should then be added to the others: why did the
Chronicler associate building accounts only with certain kings,15 and what
can be learned from this fact concerning the aforementioned issues to be
assessed?
2. Building Texts Unique to Chronicles

Turning to the accounts themselves, it is generally accepted that the text
in 2 Chron. 11.5b-10 reflects a written source, most likely a list of cities
entitled ‫ ערים למצור‬or perhaps ‫ערים למצור ביהודה‬.16 There is no reference
to Rehoboam in the reconstructed text that is assumed to reflect the origi-
nal source, nor is there any indication that the text of the source itself
associated the list with Rehoboam. And so, how did the author of Chroni-
cles know that this list belonged to Rehoboam?17
A claim that the Chronicler relied on a ‘tradition of interpretation’ that
was passed along with the list, but significantly left no identifiable traces,18
is not only an ad hoc hypothesis but also one that by definition cannot be
verified.19 In addition, one cannot reasonably assume that the author of
Chronicles associated the list with Rehoboam, because after careful analysis
the writer reached the conclusion that the specific geographical deploy-
ment of fortifications suited best the circumstances of that period. In fact,
the geographical deployment is such that it does not allow any clear con-
clusion in this regard, neither on the basis of the Deuteronomistic narra-
tives about monarchic Judah that were available to the author, nor on
those of modern historical reconstructions. Moreover, the period of Reho-
boam is not necessarily among the most consistent with the data in the list,
in either case.20 One must also keep in mind that biblical writers could and
actually did use – knowingly or unknowingly – city lists in (historical)
narrative contexts that had nothing to do with their likely historical con-
text, as the lists in Joshua clearly show.21
This being so, it seems preferable to rephrase the question, so as to ask
why the Chronicler related such a list to Rehoboam, rather than how the
author of Chronicles knew that this list belonged to Rehoboam.
The most secure starting point for this inquiry is that details (and
especially detailed lists) serve in historical narratives the general purpose
of strengthening the narratives’ verisimilitude or their history-likeness. It is
obvious that the Chronicler resorts to this rhetorical device quite often.
Moreover, recourse to it is widely found in other biblical ‘historiographical’
works.22 Taking all this into account, it is noteworthy there is no list com-
parable to this fortification list in the Chronicler’s account of the monar-
chic period, and that general language characterizes the other reports on
building activities outside Jerusalem found in Chronicles but not in Kings.
The Chronicler communicates, thus, a unique emphasis on the history-
likeness of Rehoboam’s building activities outside Jerusalem, and accord-
ingly on the credibility of the speaker23 in this special regard.24 If so, the
question is why the Chronicler considered it necessary to support so
strongly the description of Rehoboam as one who builds and fortifies, and
at this specific time in his career.25
The answer seems to be in 1 Kgs 12.25 and in its significance within the
context of the Chronicler’s theological discourse. The text in 2 Chron.
10.1-11.4 follows – with some deviations – that in 1 Kgs 12.1-24; then one
finds 1 Kgs 12.25, which reads,
‫ ויבן את־פנואל‬... ‫ ויבן ירבעם את־שכם בהר אפרים וישב בה‬and, in its
place ‫( וישב רחבעם בירושלם ויבן ערים למצור ביהודה‬2 Chron. 11.5).
The similarities in language and the explicit contrasts between ‫ירבעם‬, ‫שׁכם‬
and ‫ בהר אפרים‬on the one hand, and ‫רחבעם‬, ‫ ירושׁלם‬and ‫ ביהודה‬on the
other, are self-evident. Moreover, according to the historico/theological
discourse in Chronicles, Jeroboam has just committed one of the most
significant sins in Israel’s past by revolting against the House of David
(2 Chronicles 10), whereas Rehoboam and his people have just followed
the voice of the Lord as announced by Shemaiah, the man of God (2 Chron.
11.1-4). Since building activities and especially fortifications are usually an
expression of divine blessing in Chronicles, the report in Kings suggests (or
would have suggested) a ‘strange inconsistency’ to the (intended) readers
of Chronicles: it is not the pious king but the wicked one who is character-
ized there as a builder (and by probable connotation, as blessed). It seems,
therefore, that it is not by chance that the account in Chronicles deviates
just at this point in the narrative from the text in Kings. The more so, since
it seems obvious that the Chronicler took the language and the contents of
the relevant section in Kings as the starting point of the new (unparalleled)
narrative but used them so as to construct – in a way that is coherent with
the Chronicler’s own discourse – a clear contrast among central terms
involved in the ongoing theologico/historical narrative that characterize
the book of Chronicles.26 Significantly, the Chronicler claims that Rehoboam
built not two, but fifteen27 cities; and despite that, as a good king he dwells
in Jerusalem. Of course, the more significant that ‘Jeroboam’s rebellion’ is
in the discourse in Chronicles, the more significant the strength of the
characterization of Rehoboam as builder (and blessed) becomes, and
accordingly, the stronger the reason to associate a list of fortified cities
with Rehoboam.
But was this association thought to be historically accurate by the author
of Chronicles? One may indeed conjecture that this writer (ancient his-
torian) extrapolated from what was maintained to be true to what was
unknown, in order to reach the ‘likely’.28 So, if as a rule pious kings are
more likely than evil ones to build fortifications, then Rehoboam – at this
moment in his career – was among the likely candidates for this endeavor,
and for reasons that will be explained later, perhaps one of the most likely.
Still, this would be a totally unverifiable conjecture; the mind of the author
is outside the realm of critical investigation, and it is impossible to assess
to which degree an ancient writer thought that his or her work was likely
to reflect past historical events. Hence, it seems more appropriate to focus
on the authorial voice in Chronicles, that is, the Chronicler. The latter
certainly asks the intended reader to accept the validity and relevance of
the reconstruction of the past presented in Chronicles, as well as its
accuracy. It is surely reasonable to assume that the readers for whom the
book was written perceived these narrative claims. However, whether
these readers interpreted such claims as necessarily pointing to precise
historical referentiality and to historical accuracy in a modern sense, or
even thought in such categories, is doubtful.
Turning to other reports of building activities outside Jerusalem, in
sharp contrast to 2 Chron. 11.5b-10, there are no lists of cities in 2 Chron.
14.5-6; 17.2; 26.10; 27.4; and 32.29. Moreover, contrary to expectations
associated with the requirements of verisimilitude and credibility, there is
almost no detail in these reports: what is described as built is designated
only by generic terms such as ‘cities’, ‘fortified cities’, ‘towers’ and the like;
and the places where the latter are built are characterized only in the most
general terms (‘Judah’ or its main subregions, such as ‘the Judean Hills’ or
‘the wilderness’). The issue of credibility is solved here – probably less suc-
cessfully, and likely with less at stake than in 2 Chron. 11.5-12 – by striking
a balance between the language that is shared among these reports and
that serves to convey a sense of patterning and some degree of individual-
ity given to each of them, so as to correspond to the particular actions of
each monarch as described in the book. Significantly, the Chronicler does
not attribute the same building activities to more than one king. Each
monarch is presented, therefore, as somewhat unique in this regard, and
accordingly, the credibility of the narrative is enhanced.
A few examples must suffice. According to Chronicles, Jehoshaphat
built ‫בירגיות‬, as did Jotham, and both built cities. Those of the former,
however, are referred to as ‫ערי מסכנות‬, whereas those of the latter only
appear as ‫ ;ערים‬the former built ‫ – ביהודה‬as a whole, the latter his ‫ערים‬,
‫ ;בהר־יהודה‬but his ‫בירניות‬, ‫בחרשׁים‬. Moreover, Jotham built not only
‫בירניות‬, but also ‫מגדלים‬.29
Significantly, Asa also set up ‫מגדלים‬, but in cities (see 2 Chron. 14.6) and
as part of city defenses. So the same word, ‫ מגדלים‬points to (watch)towers
in one report and to towers in the other.30 Jotham was not the only king to
build ‫( מגדלים‬watchtowers); Uzziah did the same, but he did so ‫במדבר‬,
unlike Jotham. Moroever, Uzziah’s ‫( מגדלים‬watchtowers) were associated
in the text with cisterns, rather than with ‫בירניות‬, as Jotham’s were. Large
flocks were the explicit reason given for the aforementioned building
projects of Uzziah, but another king, who also has his share of the same
blessing, did not build ‫ מגדלים‬nor hew cisterns because of that, but
‘made’ ‫( ערים‬see 2 Chron. 26.10; 32.29).
Contrary to the case in 2 Chron. 11.5b-10, the reports in 2 Chron. 14.5-

6; 17.2; 26.10; 27.4; and 32.29 do not seem to contain language or
expressions that may further the argument that the author of Chronicles
was following independent, written sources, each dealing with the specific
building projects of a Judahite monarch.31
The report in 2 Chron. 26.6 deserves further study. It shows many of the
characteristics of those mentioned above. It differs from them, however,
because it clearly refers to building activities in the (territories) of Yavneh
and Ashdod. It has been claimed that this account is based on some
external source, on the grounds that ‘it [Jabneh] is not otherwise found in
literary sources before the Maccabean period, a fact that argues against
pure invention here by the Chronicler’.32 But the same fact, especially
when it is taken along with the observation that Yavneh seems to have
been an important town in the Achaemenid period and onward,33 is better
explained as another case in which the author of Chronicles is influenced
by the historical circumstances of the writing, just as in the well-known
instance in 1 Chron. 29.7, and likely also in 2 Chron. 28.18, where the list
of cities suits the circumstances of the Achaemenid period and perhaps
suits them better than those of Ahaz’s days.34
If so, and if there is no convincing reason to suppose the existence of
sources behind the building reports in 2 Chron. 14.5-6; 17.12; 26.6, 10;
27.4; and 32.29, then for the purpose of this article, the inquiry into these
accounts should proceed directly to a study of the issue referred to as (4)
above, namely, the image of the past conveyed by these accounts and its
implications concerning the historiographical craft of the author of Chroni-
cles. Such an analysis should, of course, take into account the conclusions
reached earlier about the reasons that led the Chronicler to include the list
of fortified cities in Rehoboam’s account, namely, a ‘hidden’ contrastive
dialogue with the information present in Kings, one in which actions in the
kingdom of Israel are contrasted with contemporaneous actions in Judah.
All these reports share in common a call to their readers to include in
their image of the past the building activities carried out by specific kings
of Judah outside Jerusalem that were not mentioned at all in the book of
Kings.35 These kings are Asa (before his fifteenth year; see 2 Chron. 15.10),
Jehoshaphat (certainly before the death of Ahab, according to the narra-
tive), Uzziah, Jotham, and Hezekiah – albeit the inclusion of the latter in
the list is debatable.
It is worth stressing that the building activities attributed to Asa that are
mentioned only in Chronicles are more or less contemporaneous with the
establishment of the second dynasty in Israel (and likely with that of Tirzah
as capital).
In addition, Jehoshaphat’s building activities can be seen as more or less

contemporaneous with the reign of Ahab, and within the historical narra-
tive of Chronicles, also with the reign of Omri, who was the founder of the
third dynasty of Israel and the builder of Samaria.36 If one takes into
account that Asa’s actions are described in strong negative terms since his
war against Baasha (see 2 Chron. 16.1-13, and esp. vv. 7-9, 10, 12), then
one must conclude that within the discourse of Chronicles, Asa would
have been an unlikely candidate for blessing and the construction associ-
ated with it, even if these were needed as a counterpoise to the image of
Omri as builder in Kings. The job had, therefore, to be left to Jehoshaphat.37
It is obvious that Uzziah’s actions may be seen as coterminous with the
heyday of the fourth dynasty of Israel, the reign of Jeroboam II (cf. 2 Kgs
15.1),38 but also even with that of Menahem’s dynasty (cf. 2 Kgs 15.17),39
whereas Jotham, within this context, may be related to Pekah (cf. 2 Kgs
15.32).40
Thus, it is noticeable and most likely significant that every period that
could have been construed as at least a potentially new beginning or
renaissance for the kingdom of Israel by a person knowledgeable of the
historical narrative of Kings (or a source closely following it) is cotermi-
nous with a period described in Chronicles as one of development in
countryside Judah, by means of accounts that are unique to this book and
that seem to rely on no previous source – with the exception of 2 Chron.
11.5b-10. The misleading new overtures in the north (the Chronicler
considered them all as hopeless, since the very existence of the northern
kingdom was an act of defiance against YHWH) are thus compared and
contrasted with actual divine blessings in Judah and their material expres-
sions, which include among others, building.41
The correspondence between Judah (except Jerusalem) and northern
Israel is understandable and actually expected in the discourse of the
Chronicler. The latter, along with others, tended to consider Jerusalem
apart from other cities in Judah (i.e., from countryside Judah). This being
so, northern Israel can be seen as similar in kind only to Judah, certainly
not to Jerusalem.
It is worth noting that there is an impressive selection of accounts of
correct behavior and ‘blessing’ topoi appearing in close (literary) proximity
to the mentioned ‘building’ reports.42 Most of these accounts are unique to
Chronicles. This observation certainly strengthens the argument devel-
oped here that the Chronicler invested much effort in shaping for the
audience the image of blessing over Judah at relevant points in their view
of the past.43 This observation also serves to put the building reports in
perspective: they are minor elements in a much larger characterization of

particularly blessed times. Still, it is worth noting that they appear in all of
these instances – unlike other reports – and that they cease to appear,
once the northern kingdom vanishes.
A final note: any proposal claiming that the Chronicler sent a single
message to the audience in a particular account or set of accounts is
inherently weak. Approaches that may be likened to procrustean beds are
not conducive to a better understanding of ancient texts that were written
to be read and reread by the community, and they are certainly not appro-
priate for dealing with sophisticated theological voices, such as that of the
Chronicler. Many reports, including the building reports, serve multiple
purposes, and each of them should be discussed separately with special
attention being given to their textual and contextual differences. This
article, however, deals mainly with the shared elements of these accounts.
Endnotes
‘The Chronicler as a Historian: Building Texts’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L.
McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: JSOT Press,
1997), pp. 132-49. J. Van Seters addressed the issue of building activities in Jerusalem in
that volume. My ‘job’ was to discuss accounts of building activities outside Jerusalem.
This division of work actually reflected the tendency in Chronicles to consider Jerusa-
lem apart from other cities in Judah with regard to royal initiatives such as building and
administrative organization. See, for instance, P. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichts-
darstellung in den Chronikbüchern (WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 1973), pp. 52-78; N. Na’aman, ‘The Date of 2 Chronicles 11:5-10 – a Reply to
Y. Garfinkel’, BASOR 271 (1988), pp. 74-77 (76). I wish to express my gratitude to T&T
Clark International/Continuum Press for allowing me to republish this essay in the
present volume. May I also mention that the volume in which the original version of
this chapter was published was dedicated to the memory of Ray B. Dillard.
1. The term ‘Chronicler’ refers to the authorial voice construed by the (ancient)
readers of the book of Chronicles through their reading of the book. This authorial
voice may reflect, in part, that of the actual author or authors (hereafter, author) of
the book, yet it should be clearly differentiated from the latter. Moreover, it must be
stressed that it is the authorial voice construed by the readers that influences society,
for readers only have access to it, rather than to the flesh and blood author. It is the
communal and interpersonal reception of the book that construes the discourse of the
group and that, in turn, construes the group. Cf. B.O. Long, 1 Kings (FOTL, IX; Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984), p. 21.
2. See M.P. Graham, The Utilization of 1 and 2 Chronicles in the Reconstruction of
Israelite History in the Nineteenth Century (SBLDS, 116; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990),
pp. 193-249. The conclusion of one of the most significant of such studies is note-
worthy: ‘…it would follow as a fact that no single use of extrabiblical sources by the
Chronicler has ever been proved. From this further follows not the fact but the
undeniable possibility that any information communicated to us only by the Chronicler
may be due in every case to his own legitimate theological inference or paraphrase from
the canonical Scripture.’ R.S. North, ‘Does Archaeology Prove Chronicles Sources?’, in
H.N. Bream, R.D. Heim, and C.A. Moore (eds.), A Light unto my Path: Studies in Honor
of J.M. Meyers (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1974), pp. 375-401, esp. 392.
For a general survey of the history of research on the question of the historical
reliability of Chronicles, see S. Japhet, ‘The Historical Reliability of Chronicles: The
History of the Problem and its Place in Biblical Research’, JSOT 33 (1985), pp. 83-107.
3. R.W. Funk, ‘Beth-Zur’, in E. Stern (ed.), The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological
Excavations in the Holy Land (4 vols.; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society & Carta;
New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993), I, pp. 259-60. See also N. Na’aman, ‘Hezekiah’s
Fortified Cities and the LMLK Stamps’, BASOR 261 (1986), pp. 5-21, esp. 6-7 and
bibliography. Although a few sherds from the tenth-ninth century were found in Kh. etI
TIubeiqeh (i.e., Beth-Zur), and their presence may suggest some form of occupation, it
seems that Kh. etI TIubeiqeh was not a fortified site during the tenth-ninth century.
(My thanks are due to Avi Ofer for sharing with me his insights concerning this site by
e-mail.)
4. The ketiv ‫ תמר‬in 1 Kgs 9.18 projects an image of Solomon’s kingdom as com-
prising a smaller realm than the qere ‫תדמר‬. For this reason, the ketiv is often preferred.
See, for instance, G. Gerlerman, Synoptic Studies in the Old Testament (LUA, 44/5;
Lund: C.W.K. Gleerup, 1948), pp. 122-23; G.H. Jones, 1 and 2 Kings (NCB; Grand
Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984), p. 216; A.G. Auld, Kings without Privilege: David and
Moses in the Story of the Bible’s Kings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994), p. 64; G.W.
Ahlström, The History of Ancient Palestine from the Palaeololithic Period to Alexan-
der’s Conquest (JSOTSup, 146; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), pp. 506-507; and the
bibliography mentioned in these works; but see, for instance, G.N. Knoppers, Two
Nations under God (HSM, 52 and 53; 2 vols.; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993), I, pp. 127-
28. In any case, it seems questionable that the author of Chronicles was the ‘creator’ of
the reading ‫ תדמר‬here, for it is attested in the ancient versions of Kings – including the
Lucianic recension – and 4QKgsª It is likely that here, as in some other instances, the
author of Chronicles followed a source different from MT (ketiv) Kings (e.g., Gerlerman,
Synoptic Studies, pp. 122-23.
5. Of course, in principle, the deviations from the source underlying the text in
Chronicles may shed light on several aspects of the theological message of the
Chronicler and on the issue of how the historical narrative in Chronicles was shaped so
as to serve such a message. In fact, in regards to these accounts the textual divergences
between Chronicles and its source are not especially significant, with the clear excep-
tion of the report in 2 Chron. 8.4-6. On the latter see, for instance, S. Japhet, I and II
Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 620-23;
H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982),
pp. 229-30 and the bibliography cited there. On the overall theological message of this
pericope, see also S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI:
Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 266-69, esp. 269. The omission of ‫ אין נקי‬in 2 Chron. 16.6 (cf.
1 Kgs 15.22) may reflect uneasiness concerning the king’s decree that no one be exempt
from working on this project.
6. The reading ‫ וערים‬is not certain. Although ‫ עשׂה‬points to homo faber (see
DBHE, pp. 591-92) and may be translated here and there as ‘build’ (e.g., 2 Kgs 20.20), it
is not found in relation to cities elsewhere (cf. 1 Kgs 15.23; 22.39). For the proposal to
read ‫ ועדרים‬instead of ‫וערים‬, see, for instance, W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher (HAT:
Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955), p. 312, and Williamson, 1 and 2
Chronicles, p. 387; for the view that the MT reading is preferable, see, for instance, R.B.
Dillard, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), p. 254. The mention
of ‫ ערים‬in this pericope (and cf. 2 Chron. 26.6-7, 10) might be reminiscent of the
circumstances narrated in Numbers 32, where references to ‫ מקנה רב‬and to building
‫ ערים‬are interlinked.
7. ‘Usually the kings of the ancient Near East were great builders. Government
buildings, such as palaces, temples, store cities and fortresses, were expressions not
only of a king’s duties or of his dreams about power and might; the building programs
were at the same time an expression of his position as the god’s viceroy, the one who
should shepherd the people. In this way the king carried out the god’s demands for
making his realm organized, strong and grand.’ Ahlström, History of Ancient Palestine,
p. 507.
Of course, there were towns, store towns, fortified towns, fortresses, watchtowers,
and the like in Iron Age Judah, and certainly most, if not all of them, were built under
the royal auspices, but does it prove the historicity of the accounts in Chronicles? See
below. For an attempt to relate, with much qualification, some of the archaeological
findings with the accounts in Chronicles, see A. Mazar, ‘Iron Age Fortresses in the
Judaean Hills’, PEQ 114 (1982), pp. 87-109.
8. To put it bluntly, archaeological evidence pointing to building and development
in southern Judah and Negev during the eighth century does not and cannot confirm
the historicity of the Chronicler’s report concerning Uzziah. At best, it may allow for
such a historicity. (Contra, for instance, Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 336-37; cf.
Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, p. 26.) This is so not only, or even
mainly, because of issues involved in the comparison between precise details in the
text and archaeological findings, nor even because of the problematic character of
unequivocal correlations between archaeological (relative) datings and precise regnal
periods that are based on the biblical narrative. The main reason concerns itself with
the recognition of a gap of several centuries between the writing of Chronicles and the
events reported. To claim that archaeological findings confirm the Chronicler’s his-
toricity – rather than that they are not in tension with specific claims of a certain
account – represents an unwarranted logical jump, unless one can advance a reason-
able argument linking building activities in the eighth century with the historical
narrative written several centuries later. Did the author of this narrative know that
Uzziah developed the countryside? If so, how?
To state the obvious, an ‘inductive’ approach aimed at evading the latter question –
i.e., to point to such a large number of instances of compelling and unequivocal,
positive correlation between archaeological findings and plain narrative claims in
Chronicles, both concerning each Judahite king’s actions and lack thereof, so as to
make it reasonable to assume that such a link exists, even if it cannot be explained – is
doomed to failure from the outset.
Moreover, is a de-contextualized reading of the building report included in the

account of Uzziah’s reign the best way to reconstruct the most likely testimony of the
Chronicler concerning Uzziah’s actions? In Chronicles, the book read by the intended
community of readers, the report is set in a larger context, within which Uzziah is
compared and contrasted with other kings. Thus, for instance, neither Manasseh nor
Josiah are described in this form, despite the great development in the seventh century.
Moreover, Uzziah is the only king – in fact the only person in the Hebrew Bible –
described as ‘a lover of soil’. But is this ‘historical’ image of Uzziah due to the fact that
‘this ancient historian’ knew about specific deeds of Uzziah that set him apart from
other Judahite kings?
The answers given to these and related questions have clear implications for the
critical use of the Chronicler’s testimony for the purpose of a historical-critical
reconstruction of monarchic Judah (see below). In any case, such an endeavor must
begin with the recognition that the book of Chronicles is not and should not be
considered a primary source for the monarchic period. Cf. E.A. Knauf, ‘From History
to Interpretation’, in D.V. Edelman (ed.), The Fabric of History (JSOTSup, 127; Shef-
field: JSOT Press, 1991), pp. 26-54, esp. 51-52.
9. See, for instance, Japhet’s discussion of 2 Chron. 11. 6-10aα. She maintains that
no ‘unequivocal literary or archaeological evidence can be brought forward in favour
of any one view’ concerning the chronological context of the list of fortifications
associated with Rehoboam in these verses. Then she writes, ‘conclusions…cannot be
definite; but since it seems likely that the new king followed his father’s policy in
fortifying Judah, I am inclined, pending further evidence, to accept the association of
this list with Rehoboam’. See Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 665-66. Of course, Japhet
does not tend to relate the list to Rehoboam only, or even mainly, on the grounds that
it is seems likely that a son follows the footsteps of a father, but because the Chronicler
associates the list with Rehoboam, i.e., on an appeal to the authority of the Chronicler,
an authority that seems strong enough to decide the balance when no unequivocal
argument can be made one way or the other.
10. The weakness of such an understanding is often recognized. See, for instance,
I. Kalimi, ‘Literary-Chronological Proximity in the Chronicler’s Historiography’, VT 43
(1993), pp. 318-38.
11. The alternative is to assume that the historical narrative in Chronicles includes
literary, theological, and ideological topoi, selected mainly according to their roles in
the shaping of the text’s message, and whose presence there may or may not reflect
historical events or at least, historical knowledge thought to be accurate – in the
modern sense of the term – by the author and readers. If such is the case, then no
critically controlled position concerning their historical accuracy can be taken without
the support of independent evidence.
12. Of course, this approach is diametrically opposed to that which claims from the
outset that one should accept the historical reliability (and historical referentiality) of
the Chronicler’s narrative, with the only exception of specific claims that can be
convincingly ruled out. Such an approach presumes (rather than analyzes) the validity
of the appeal to authority of that narrative as an accurate historical source for the
monarchic period. It is worth mentioning in this respect that, as Bentzen already
noticed decades ago, one may not be in a situation to rule out completely even the
claim of b B. Bat. 15a that Jeremiah was the author of Kings. Of course, from this obser-
vation it does not follow that one should accept such a claim, unless one presumes the
value of an appeal to authority of b B. Bat. 15a as an accurate source for the history of
the late monarchic and early post-monarchic period. (From a methodological view-
point alone, the two cases are comparable). See A. Bentzen, Introduction to the Old
Testament (2 vols.; Copenhagen: Gads Forlag, 1949), II, p. 97.
13. On 2 Chron. 32.29, see above. That a historical narrative does not have to be
‘historically’ accurate is clearly shown by Kings, as it creates an image of the past in
which the Assyrian domination of Judah came to a complete end in the fourteenth year
of Hezekiah.
14. Notice, for instance, the difference between their accounts of Solomon’s building
activities in Jerusalem. On this point, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 537-38, 549-
50, 613-14.
15. The answer cannot be that ‘pious kings’ build. As widely recognized in Chroni-
cles, only kings who behave piously may build, but there are kings who are described in
such a way and to whom no report about building activities in countryside Judah is
attached (e.g., Abijah, Joash, Josiah), nor is it simply an issue of building ‘parity’
between Jerusalem and ‘Judah’ (eg., Joash, Manasseh). (In Chronicles, military-related
building activities are considered to be an expression of the divine blessing that gener-
ally follows righteous behavior. Cf. 1 Chron. 11.8; 2 Chron. 26.9-10; 27.3-4; 32.5. On
these topoi, see Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, pp. 9-78.)
16. E.g., M. Noth, The Chronicler’s History (JSOTSup, 50; Sheffield: JSOT Press,
1987), pp. 58-59; Rudolph, Chronikbücher, pp. 228-30; Welten, Geschichte und
Geschichtsdarstellung, pp. 11-15; V. Fritz, ‘The “List of Rehoboam’s Fortresses” in
2 Chr 11.5-2 – a Document from the Time of Josiah’, in B. Mazar (ed.), Y. Aharoni
Memorial Volume (EI, 15; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1981), pp. 46-53;
Na’aman, ‘Hezekiah’s Fortified Cities’, p. 5; idem, ‘Date’, p. 76.
17. Such a question points to the heart of the argument in favor of the appeal to the
authority of the Chronicler as a historian.
18. Should one assume that it was oral?
19. It is needless to say that even if, for the sake of argument, one accepted this
hypothesis, the historical reliability of this untraceable tradition would be questionable,
and along with it, that of the Chronicler’s testimony.
20. For example, the list suggests a threat from the west, whereas the immediate
literary context in Chronicles is more consistent with a threat from the north.
21. See also Ben Zvi, ‘The List of the Levitical Cities’, JSOT 54 (1992), pp. 77-106
and the bibliography cited there.
22. The lists in Joshua provide a ‘classic’ example. Concerning Chronicles, see also
Ben Zvi, ‘List of the Levitical Cities’. The itinerary form in Num. 33.1-49 has the same
purpose. See J. Van Seters, The Life of Moses (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox
Press, 1994), pp. 161-64. The same holds true also for the list of cities built by the
Transjordanian tribes in Num. 32.34-38; cf. Van Seters, Life of Moses, pp. 446-50.
23. On these issues, see also R.K. Duke, The Persuasive Appeal of the Chronicler: A
Rhetorical Analysis (BLS, 25; JSOTSup, 88; Sheffield: Almond Press, 1990), pp. 105-38.
24. One may conjecture that the author had no access to additional fortification lists
and did not wish to ‘fabricate’ new ones. Perhaps one may surmise that the Chronicler
had more than one list but wished to emphasize the case supporting the characteriza-
tion of Rehoboam as a (main) ‘builder’ by means of a uniquely detailed account. Both
suggestions are essentially unverifiable and, as such, do not advance the discussion. It
is better to remain with what can be verified, i.e., that the Chronicler rendered
Rehoboam’s account unique in this respect and that it is most likely that there was a
reason for it.
25. As is well known, the Chronicler develops Rehoboam’s career in three stages.
26. Cf. Rudolph, Chronikbücher, p. 227; J. Goldingay, ‘The Chronicler as a Theolo-
gian’, BTB 5 (1975), pp. 99-126 (102-103); Auld, Kings without Privilege, p. 106. On the
surface, one may argue that the Chronicler could have solved ‘the problem’ by pre-
senting a text that denied the building activities of Jeroboam, rather than by accentuat-
ing those of Rehoboam (and omitting all reference to those of Jeroboam). But such a
solution would have been inconsistent with the Chronicler’s work, for the Chronicler
does not explicitly refute received texts nor make polemic statements about them. The
Chronicler, as narratorial voice, prefers to let the events reported speak for themselves,
as it were (see Duke, Persuasive Appeal, p. 108; cf. M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation
in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), p. 382). In fact, omitting references
to ‘positive’ actions of Jeroboam and elevating the character of the lawful king, Reho-
boam, was not only the most attractive alternative, but also the one most consistent
with the literary (and theological) conventions guiding the work of the author of
Chronicles (cf. also the Chronicler’s characterization of Abijah, about whom not all
could have been good in the eyes of the author). See D.G. Deboys, ‘History and
Theology in the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah’, Bib 71 (1990), pp. 48-62, esp. 52.
27. That is seven times more than Jeroboam did, plus one. On seven cities pointing
to completeness, see, for instance, Jdt. 2.28 (C.A. Moore, Judith [AB, 40; Garden City,
NY: Doubleday, 1985], p. 139); Rev. 1.4. The number 15 is among the possible can-
didates of a system based on triads, such as this list.
28. Cf. L.I.C. Pearson, The Greek Historians of the West: Timaeus and his Predeces-
sors (PMAPA, 35; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), p. 50. Some of these issues were
discussed in J. Van Seters, ‘Filling in the Gaps: Compositions Techniques in Near
Eastern and Greek Historiography and in Deuteronomistic History’ (paper presented at
the 1994 annual meeting of the SBL).
29. Cf. 2 Chron. 17.12 with 2 Chron. 27.4. Notice also the qtl–wyqtl contrast, as well
as that between the order ‘verb–location–direct object1–direct object2’ and the chias-
tic pattern: ‘direct object1–verb-location1 + location2–verb–direct object2-3’.
30. The same contrast between the two referents of this word is found in 2 Chron.
26.9-10. See below.
31. ‫ ערי מצורה‬occurs in 2 Chron. 14.5 and nowhere else in the Hebrew Bible (but
see 2 Chron. 11.10, 11, 23; 12.4; 21.3). ‫ בירניות‬is found only in Chronicles (2 Chron.
17.12; 27.4; ‫[ בירנית‬the singular form] occurs nowhere). ‫ ערי מסכנות‬occurs in Exod.
1.11; 1 Kgs 9.19 (//2 Chron. 8.6), and 2 Chron. 8.4; 16.4; 17.12. Although the word
‫ מגדלות‬is found in 1 Chron. 27.25 and 2 Chron. 32.5, ‫ מגדלים‬occurs four times, namely
in 2 Chron. 14.6; 26.9, 10; and 27.4.
It is true that the referent of ‫ מגדלים‬in 2 Chron. 26.9 and 10 is not the same, but this
does not necessarily mean that one of them comes from an independent source. On the
contrary, one may claim that this is a stylistic device to bind together the two (parallel)
reports (see above). In any case, the use of ‫ מגדלים‬in reference to (watch)towers is
found in 2 Chron. 26.10 and 27.4 and in reference to the towers of a city wall in
2 Chron. 14.6; 26.9. Hence there is no need to hypothesize a non-chronistic source. For
a different approach, see Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, p. 26; William-
son, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 336; de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 356.
32. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 334-35. For studies in this verse, see de
Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 358-59 and the bibliography cited there.
33. See E. Stern, Material Culture of the Land of the Bible in the Persian Period, 538–
332 B.C. (Warminster/Jerusalem: Aris & Phillips/Israel Exploration Society, 1982), pp.
19-22. Cf. Jdt. 2.28; 1 Macc. 4.15; 5.58; 10.69; 15.40; Strabo 16.2.28 §759.
34. Notice especially the reference to Aijalon and Gimzo. For a different approach to
this list of cities, see R.W. Doermann, ‘Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation: Tell el
Hesi’, in L.G. Perdue, L.E. Tombs and G.L. Johnson (eds.), Archaeology and Biblical
Interpretation, Essays in Memory of D.G. Rose (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1987), pp.
129-46. It is also worth noting that the textual proximity of ‫ יבנה‬to ‫ ויבנה‬in 2 Chron.
26.6 seems to hold the best explanation for the unusual (long) form of the latter. If so,
stylistic considerations may have strongly influenced the text of the report (cf. Zeph.
2.4; see E. Ben Zvi, A Historical–Critical Study of the Book of Zephaniah (BZAW, 198;
Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1991), pp. 150-51). The more the case is so, the more doubtful is
the argument for the historical accuracy of the account.
35. The present analysis shows that the book of Kings was included in the repertoire
of books read in the society within which (and for which) Chronicles was written (cf.
Auld, Kings without Privilege, p. 106). This does not necessarily mean that the author of
Chronicles had to follow the present text of Kings rather than a forerunner or closely
related source. This issue, however, is beyond the scope of the present study.
36. The historical narrative of Chronicles claims that Baasha was still the king of
Israel in the thirty-sixth year of Asa (2 Chron. 16.1), and Asa died in the forty-first year
of his reign (2 Chron. 16.13). If one accepts this chronology, one has to conclude that
Omri must have built Samaria when Jehoshaphat reigned over Judah and Jerusalem. It
is noteworthy that according to 1 Kgs 16.8-11 (with no parallel in Chronicles), Elah,
the son of Baasha, began to reign over Israel in the twenty-sixth year of Asa and was
murdered, along with all the House of Baasha, in the twenty-seventh year of Asa.
Accordingly, the entire reign of Omri is presented as contemporaneous with that of
Asa over Judah, despite a certain degree of internal inconsistence in the chronological
system of Kings (see 1 Kgs 16.23, 29; and 22.41).
37. It is possible that one of the purposes for the ‘strange’ dating of the war between
Asa and Baasha in Chronicles (2 Chron. 16.1) was to let Jehoshapat, the new pious king,
fill the role of Rehoboam over and against the new Jeroboam, Omri. For other compa-
rable elements in the Chronicler’s accounts of Rehoboam and Jehoshaphat, see below.
38. The establishment of the House of Jehu was certainly not a negative event in
Chronicles (see 2 Chron. 22.7-8). So, it seems appropriate that the Judahite counterpart
to a king of this dynasty will be contrasted with the king of this dynasty who was
militarily most successful according to Kings, namely Jeroboam II, who, by the way,
was considered a sinner, even in Kings.
39. Significantly, the text of 2 Kgs 15.20 seems to imply that there were 60,000
‫ גבורי החיל‬in Israel in Menahem’s days. This number may have evoked an image of
wealth – especially agrarian wealth. Cf. the Chronicler’s (unique) building account of
Uzziah.
40. If Hezekiah is included in this group of kings, he may serve the role of the
positive counterpart to Hoshea.
41. E.g., Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, pp. 52-78; Na’aman, ‘Date’,
p. 76.
42. For instance, concerning cultic reforms or related actions, see 2 Chron. 11.13-16;
14.2-4; 17.6, 7-9; for following the word of prophets, 2 Chron. 11.2-4; 26.5; for building
and fortification of Jerusalem, 2 Chron. 26.9, 15; 27.3; for military might or victory,
2 Chron. 14.7-14; 17.14-19; 26.6-7, 11-15; 27.5; for reorganizing and strengthening
regional administration and defenses, 2 Chron. 11.11-12, 23; 17.2, 19.
43. One may add that since (1) the audience of the book could not have read it
outside any cultural context, and (2) it is most likely that their image of the past was
strongly influenced by the historical narratives in Samuel and Kings (see above), then it
is actually to be expected that the Chronicler would especially address (potential)
turning points in those narratives.
Chapter 6
THE SECESSION OF THE NORTHERN KINGDOM

IN CHRONICLES: ACCEPTED ‘FACTS’ AND NEW MEANINGS*
The shared historical memory of the author and first readers of Chroni-
cles1 included many ‘facts’ about which there was no dispute. The meaning
of these facts, however, was shaped in different ways,2 and not all these
‘accepted facts’ were of equal value. Some were central to the construction
of Israel’s past, but certainly others were not. The more prominent an
agreed ‘fact’3 was within this memory, the stronger was the persuasive
power of a convincing interpretation of that fact, and above all, of the
relevant theological or ideological implications that such interpretation
carried.4
To explore these matters as they relate to Chronicles, I will focus on
several aspects of the explanation given in the book for a central fact in the
memory of the Chronicler5 and the first readers of Chronicles: the division
of the Davidic–Solomonic kingdom and the establishment of the Northern
Kingdom, which not only lasted for centuries but fixed in place a separa-
tion that continued until the days of the provinces of Yehud and Samaria.
In other words, the heightened significance of the event was due to its lasting
influence on the (hi)story of Israel.6
It was inevitable that the question would be raised of when and why this
foundational event happened or was allowed to happen in the divine
economy. The relation between the Davidic–Solomonic kingdom and the
Davidic kingdom of Judah7 was complex and involved an intertwining of
identity and difference. Moreover, there were tensions between the idea of
‘all Israel’, which included the Northern Kingdom, and the determination
that the populace of the Northern Kingdom was unfaithful to YHWH,
because of their separate existence and their rejection of the theology and
ritual of the Jerusalem temple.
There is no doubt that the existence of the former Northern Kingdom
of Israel, separate from but contemporary with the Davidic kingdom of
Judah for most of the monarchic period, was a historical fact accepted
by the literati of Yehud, which included the author and first readers of
Chronicles. The Chronicler could not deny the existence of the Northern
Kingdom and the corresponding decrease in the area under the direct,
political rule of the Davidic kings. Moreover, it is not only the existence of
the northern polity that was an agreed-upon fact, but many core elements
of its history8 and the basic story about its birth.
Thus the Chronicler could not have assigned the secession to a period
other than the end of Solomon’s reign and the beginning of Rehoboam’s.
Nor could he have associated the story with any northern king other than
Jeroboam (I) or altered the main spatial elements of the story (e.g., the
references to Shechem). In fact, the basic plot of the story of the secession
in Chronicles, most of its details and its outcome – the birth of a separate
polity – are almost identical to those in Kings. The Chronicler’s behavior
in this regard is expected and probably unavoidable.
All this taken into account, the seemingly close retelling of the story of
the secession of kings in Chronicles masks the communication of new
meanings, a change of emphases, and historiographical and theological
implications that are certainly unique to Chronicles. Thus whereas the
main facts may remain the same, what the readers learn from them changes
substantially. In this and similar instances, the retelling of known facts
serves to enhance the rhetorical appeal and the possibility of acceptance
for a new story of secession, and above all for the new meanings that it
would carry. Accepted historical facts become necessary components for
the successful communication of the theological messages of Chronicles to
the literati.9 The shaping of these messages in the present case involved
significant changes in the context in which the facts are set. In Chronicles,
as in most – if not all – historiographical works, the narrative context gives
meaning to the facts, rather than vice versa.10
1. The Prominence of the Seemingly Unexplainable

in the (Hi)story of the Secession in Chronicles
Gary Knoppers has noted that the account in Chronicles (unlike Kings)
‘depicts Solomon’s reign as uniformly illustrious’, and ‘there are no adum-
brations whatsoever of the…division’ in this account. Consequently, the
Chronicler ‘has rendered the secession incomprehensible’.11 Although I
agree with the gist of his explanation to this point, the expression ‘incom-
prehensible’ is too vague. The following statement – though wordy – is
more precise and helpful: the Chronicler has drawn the attention of the
readers of the narrative to a formative event or historical process in which
the actions of the main characters seem to defy common expectations.
6. The Secession of the Northern Kingdom in Chronicles 119
The readers of the book would have expected the transfer of power to
Rehoboam to follow the basic lines of that to Solomon when he became
king, except, of course, for changes required by the new circumstances
(namely, the temple was already built, and the prior king was already dead).
In other words, they expected to be told that the prince became king
(1 Chron. 23.1; cf. 2 Chron. 9.31) and then of great festivities, involving
numerous sacrifices, in which the assembly (‫)קהל‬12 crowned the new
king and anointed him as a divinely appointed ruler (‫וימשחו ליהוה לנגיד‬,
1 Chron. 29.22). Moreover, the readers might have expected some refer-
ence to the (high) priest in these sacral festivities (1 Chron. 29.20-25, esp.
v. 22).13 Finally, they could have anticipated a concluding statement that
the new king sat on YHWH’s throne and all Israel obeyed him (v. 23).
With these expectations in mind, the readers would immediately notice
that in the case of Rehoboam’s ascent to the throne something had gone
astray from the very outset. According to 2 Chron. 10.1, the coronation
was not to occur in Jerusalem but in Shechem. Within the ideological
world of Chronicles, this was no mere geographical shift but precluded the
possibility of legitimate sacrifices and so left no (ritual) space for YHWH in
the ceremony. Not surprisingly, the term ‫‘( קהל‬assembly’), which carries
sacral or ritual connotations in Chronicles, does not occur here, but rather
the text refers to ‘all Israel’.14 Whereas the reference in Kings to Shechem
instead of Jerusalem is comprehensible against the background of 1 Kings
11 (and the so-called deuteronomic history), the same reference in Chroni-
cles calls attention to what seems to be a choice involving either a rejection
of the unique status of Jerusalem and its temple or the sacral aspects of the
coronation, if not both.
One might argue that the actions of Rehoboam and Israel could have
reminded some readers of the events described in 1 Chron. 11.3, in which
all the elders of Israel came to Hebron to anoint David. But these readers
would also have recalled that the elders came to the king rather than vice
versa. Far more important, they would have recognized that a claim that
Shechem could function as well as Hebron as the legitimate place for
crowning a Davidide before YHWH, would have implied that the conquest
of Jerusalem and the establishment of the Jerusalemite temple had no
lasting impact on Israelite coronations.15
Why would Rehoboam (or Israel for that matter) go to Shechem for a
coronation rather than to Jerusalem?16 Why would Rehoboam (or ‘all
Israel’) implicitly reject Jerusalem and its temple? In Chronicles it is not
only the secession of the North, but already the first detail in the story that
leads up to the secession – the choice of Shechem for the coronation of the
Davidide – that seems inexplicable. The matter involves nothing less than
the centrality of Jerusalem, its temple and the relation between YHWH
and the Davidide king.
The choice of Shechem over Jerusalem is merely one of several ex-
tremely odd events that stand at the core of the narrative of the secession
in Chronicles. For instance, within the Chronicler’s world, there is no clear
reason either for ‘all Israel’ to call Jeroboam or for the complaint about the
yoke of heavy taxation, and accordingly, for the ‘counsel of the youths’ that
seems to accept that the existence of a clearly non-existing heavy yoke dur-
ing Solomonic times. These two examples are worthy of further exploration.
Turning to the first, within Chronicles the first and only reference to
Jeroboam before the narrative of the secession is 2 Chron. 9.29.17 Among
the purported sources for the study of the Solomonic period, the text
explicitly refers to written texts that contained the prophecy of Ahijah
the Shilonite and the visions of the seer Jeddi or Jeddo (‫ יעדי‬or ‫)יעדו‬
concerning (or, against) Jeroboam.18 Not only are the readers of Chroni-
cles not told that Jeroboam is an Ephraimite, but his role over all
Ephraimite forced labor could not have existed in the world described in
Chronicles (see below).19 Nor is there any place in that world for the narra-
tive in 1 Kgs 11.29-40 or anything similar to it. Thus, while the readers of
Chronicles are told of divine communications concerning Jeroboam that
took place in the days of Solomon, nothing more is said about these
communications or about Jeroboam. Given this narrative world of Chroni-
cles, the question for which the readers of Chronicles seem to have no
answer is, ‘Why would all Israel decide to call Jeroboam?’20 The question is
even more poignant for these readers, since they are told – implicitly but
unequivocally – that Jeroboam must have been a wrongdoer and that
under normal circumstances ‘all Israel’ should have been well aware of
that.21
We turn now to Rehoboam’s response to the complaints over heavy
taxation. Whereas Kings directly associates Jeroboam with taxation and
the forced labor of Ephraim, and the reign of Solomon in general with
Israelite forced labor, the same does not hold true in Chronicles. In the
latter, forced labor was imposed on non-Israelites who lived in the land
(2 Chron. 2.1, 16-17 [contrast with 1 Kgs 5.27-32 (EVV vv. 13-18)] and
2 Chron. 8.7-10).22 Israelites were explicitly exempted from forced labor.23
Against this background, the demand by Jeroboam and ‘all Israel’ that
Rehoboam lighten the heavy yoke (‫ )עול‬and workload (‫ )עבודה‬that Solo-
mon had placed upon them (2 Chron. 10.4) seems not only baseless but
also extremely odd. The response of ‘the youths’ who had grown up with
Rehoboam is even more bizarre, for it acknowledges the existence of a

heavy yoke and workload that never existed (see 2 Chron. 10.10). The
proposed answer moves even further into the absurd, as it states that the
up-to-now unheard of forced work of Israel should dramatically increase.
The concluding advice of the youth to Rehoboam – to proclaim that his
little finger is thicker than the loins of his recently deceased and beloved
father – serves as a fitting literary ending to utterly unreasonable and
seemingly unexplainable advice (2 Chron. 10.10; contrast with Exod. 20.12;
Deut. 5.16 and the logic implied in Mal. 1.6).
According to the story, Rehoboam actually followed the youths’ advice
and rejected the ‘counsel of the elders’.24 The latter action alone would
characterize him as a rebellious and foolish person, since the instruction of
priests and counsel of the elders was to be honored (Ezek. 7.26).25 Reho-
boam’s acceptance of the absurd advice of the youths and his implied
acceptance of their misunderstanding of their immediate past indicate his
inability to think rationally and even remember correctly the most recent
past. One must add to all this that Rehoboam decided to go to Shechem to
be crowned, rather than performing the relevant ceremonies in Jerusalem,
and his implicit acceptance of the youths’ comments shamed his father
Solomon.26 To complete the picture, there is the report of Rehoboam’s
first action after the rebellion, to send Hadoram (‫ )הדרם‬to the northern
Israelites (2 Chron. 10.18). Whereas the reference to Adoram’s mission in
1 Kgs 12.18 serves to highlight the king’s decision to reinstate forced labor
in Israel by the symbolic act of sending the person who was over this insti-
tution (‫ ;אדרם אשר על המס‬see 2 Sam. 20.24 and cf. 1 Kgs 4.6; 5.28 [EVV
v. 14] – ‫ אדרם‬is a short form of ‫)אדנירם‬,27 the note in 2 Chron. 10.19
makes a different point. Since forced labor here was only required from
non-Israelites, already the youths’ counsel and Rehoboam’s acceptance of
it point to the court’s tendency to de-Israelitize northern Israel.28 Against
this background, the sending of Hadoram, who was in charge of the forced
labor, is clearly an attempt to consolidate and publicly legitimize that
tendency. The Chronicler reinforced this message by the allusive role of
the word ‫ מס‬here (it appears elsewhere in Chronicles only in 2 Chron. 8.8,
which points to the forced labor of the non-Israelites) and above all by the
renaming of the main character. Whereas ‫ אדרם‬and ‫ אדנירם‬point at ‘my
(divine) master is exalted’,29 ‫ הדורם‬suggests ‘Hadad is exalted’. The two
other persons named Hadoram in Chronicles are non-Israelites (1 Chron.
1.21; 18.10), and in one of these cases, Chronicles substitutes ‫( יורם‬2 Sam.
8.10) for ‫( הדורם‬1 Chron. 18.10), precisely to emphasize that the man is
not an Israelite.30 In other words, the Chronicler suggests to his readers
that Rehoboam sent a non-Israelite taskmaster to the now de-Israelitized

North to enforce symbolically and (eventually) practically their new status
as non-Israelites. Of course, within the world of Chronicles such an
endeavor can only fail, but it certainly contributes to the characterization
of Rehoboam as a king who departs from YHWH. Note also the divine
reference to the northern Israelites as Judah’s kindred (‫ )אחיכם‬immedi-
ately following this report (2 Chron. 11.4).
There can be no doubt that all these considerations were intended to
advance a negative characterization of the king, yet the Chronicler asked
these same readers to evaluate Rehoboam in unequivocally positive terms
for this period (i.e., until about the fifth year of his reign; see 2 Chron.
12.1).31 Most significantly, whereas the campaign of Shishak is presented as
divine punishment, nowhere is the secession of the Northern Kingdom
explained in these terms.32 To be sure, these observations raise serious
questions for the so-called chronistic reward and punishment theology, an
outlook usually connected with the speech of Shemaiah in 2 Chron. 12.5.
While this matter will be addressed below,33 it is sufficient at this stage to
emphasize that the positive characterization of Rehoboam is another –
and perhaps among the most salient – of a series of seemingly unexplain-
able features in the Chronicler’s account of the secession. It is, however,
probably not the most salient of all, since according to the text the divine
decision to divide the kingdom was announced during the days of Solomon
– the best possible period.34
Thus, the story of the secession in Chronicles abounds with instances in
which common expectations of rational or normal behavior or evaluation
are thwarted. All the main characters, including God, are directly impli-
cated in seemingly unreasonable conduct, as is the Chronicler, too. Such
an all-pervasive feature of the narrative cannot be dismissed as meaning-
less in any analysis, nor is there any reason to assume that the intended or
primary readers of the Chronicler’s version of the secession were asked to
do so, or actually did so. This ubiquitous and emphatic characterization
of the events and characters provides, in fact, strong, textually inscribed
indications about the particular construction of the secession story in
Chronicles and the meaning(s) that this story may have communicated to
its intended and primary rereaderships.35 In addition, these salient instances
of seemingly logical incongruence served to call attention to particular
issues and narrative or ideological tensions and to their possible resolu-
tions (or lack thereof) within the ideological and narrative world of the
book.
Chronicles includes all the main historical facts about the secession that
were agreed upon by the community within which and for which it was
written. But these facts, even if taken from Kings, are now legitimizing
elements in a new story, where they are repeatedly presented as seemingly
unexplainable. When incomprehensible behavior is brought to the readers’
attention, the importance of explanation becomes a central point in the
narrative. Within Chronicles – and particularly given the importance of
the reported event in the memory of Israel – it becomes also a central
point for theological reflection and historiographical considerations.
2. Explaining the Seemingly Unexplainable and Imagining the Deity

The proleptic reference to prophecies or visions concerning Jeroboam, the
son of Nebat, when his name is first mentioned (2 Chron. 9.29), already
indicates that Jeroboam had a role in the divine plan. The seemingly
unexplainable call of ‘all Israel’ to him serves to involve him in the narra-
tive plot and in the fulfillment of that plan. Significantly, there is no reason
to assume that within the world of the book those who called him were
aware of his future role in YHWH’s plan. Thus, the seemingly unexplain-
able actions of ‘all Israel’ were necessary steps in the implementation of a
divinely ordained design for Israel’s polities in a way unbeknown to them.
The matter becomes explicit in 2 Chron. 10.15-16, where Rehoboam’s
(illogical) acceptance of the words of the youths about him is explained as
a turn of affairs dictated by YHWH. The explicit repetition of ‫לא שמע‬
‫‘( המכך‬the king did not listen’) in vv. 15-16 emphasizes the narrator’s
contention that such a divinely motivated action was the immediate reason
for the North’s rejection of the Davidic dynasty.36 Within this context the
explicit reference to the fulfillment of the divine decision revealed to
Ahijah (v. 15) about Jeroboam suggests that from the Chronicler’s point of
view, such a decision was already made in the days of Solomon.37 This
determination by God involved not only a rebellion and rejection of the
‘house of David’ (both as a dynasty and as polity) but also the establish-
ment of an additional Israelite polity and the active role of Jeroboam in the
formative events of the latter.
The divinely ordained character of the events is finally communicated
to the main characters in 2 Chron. 11.4. Within the world of the narrative,
the Solomonic kingdom was powerful militarily and should have been able
to suppress the rebellion. At this point in the text, Rehoboam sets out to
do what one would expect of such a monarch: he plans to attack the rebels.
It is at this point in the narrative that he and those who remain loyal to
him38 are explicitly told that the events were caused by YHWH and accord-
ingly that they should not resort to force to change them.39 Significantly,
now that they have learned about the divine plan and its fulfillment, they
are given the choice of accepting it and obeying YHWH or of resisting
YHWH and attempting to reunite the kingdom. They chose the former
route, and this decision is central to the positive evaluation of Rehoboam, a
point to which I will return.
To recapitulate, divine causation is presented as the explanation for a
turn of events that would have been unlikely had the characters behaved in
a reasonable manner. The timing of the events, the selection of the main
characters and the actions they take (contrary to what the first readers
would expect from them) are all now explained in terms of YHWH’s
control over the events.40 Instances of irrational behavior in the narrative
serve to characterize a process through which YHWH’s plan for Israel’s
polities became a ‘historical fact’.
A few observations are in order at this point. The explanation of the
events in terms of YHWH’s action probably seemed the most likely for
this concentration of seemingly unexplainable human choices. It implies
a theological understanding of YHWH as a deity who may cause people
to behave irrationally. Such an understanding is attested elsewhere in
the discourse(s) of the period.41 This explanation is also consistent with
Chronicles’ demonstration of divine causation in history, namely as
manifested by human deeds that achieve results that cannot be explained
in ‘worldly terms’ (e.g., Asa’s victory over the million-man army of Zerah,
the Cushite; see 2 Chron. 14.7-14). Still, it is worth stressing that of many
memories of Israel’s past, Chronicles particularly and emphatically shapes
the one about the secession as one in which the unexplainable in human
terms is so pervasive, at all levels. For Chronicles, the secession was a most
unlikely political and religious event, and at the same time, one of the
utmost consequence.
Chronicles’ explanation of the secession shows YHWH as one who made
crucial decisions concerning Israel that were essentially beyond the ex-
pounding power reason of the Yehudite literati. It is worth underscoring
that within this narrative it was during the golden age of Israelite history
that YHWH decided that this glorious kingdom should be divided. Not
only did the Chronicler depart from the explanation advanced in Kings,
but he chose not to justify the divine decision. The Chronicler’s decision
was intentional and communicated on one level that the historical event
of the succession defies human reason. On another level, it revealed
YHWH as a deity not bound by the limits of human reason or confined to
what humans might predict. Thus, Chronicles reflects, shapes and com-
municates an understanding of history as a fully unpredictable affair at
times, because the deity governing history (and the fate of Israel) may act
unpredictably.
3. Other Implications of the Chronicler’s Explanation of the Secession

3.1. A Theology of Seemingly Competing Claims That Inform and Balance
Each Other
Chronicles shapes and communicates a (hi)story of Israel’s past to instruct
its intended readers in a number of theological matters, such as the mean-
ing of history, YHWH’s requirements of human beings, individual respon-
sibility, divine retribution and the like. The claim of the book to speak
about these matters is grounded on the common assumption that YHWH
governs the world according to principles (cf. Prov. 8.22) that may be
learned from the results of divine activity, that is, from human history – as
reconstructed by the Chronicler.42 I stressed elsewhere that reported attes-
tations of events that are coherent with a particular theological principle
were not meant to be understood as proofs that such a principle had
absolute or universal validity. Quite the contrary, the Chronicler most
often qualified these principles by pointing to instances in which compet-
ing principles were at work. Thus, the intended and primary rereaderships of
the book were asked to imagine the world as a place in which a plethora of
divine principles – sometimes at tension with each other – are at work,
and accordingly construct a theological image of a deity in whose ‘mind’
different principles qualify each other. From a historiographical perspec-
tive, the result is a narrative in which similar human actions may lead to a
variety of divinely ordained historical results.43 This multiplicity of possible
historical results allowed relative flexibility in the articulation of explana-
tions of events in Israel’s past, and in the lives of the audience as well.44
Such flexibility, however, serves to undermine the predictability of any
event, since the same human ‘input’ may lead to drastically different his-
torical results.45 The narrative fact that the secession of the Northern
Kingdom was decided by YHWH during a highpoint in Israelite history
(Solomon’s reign) dramatically balances or sets in proportion theologi-
cal claims about a firm coherence between human actions and divinely
ordained results.46
The story of the secession suggests that historical events may be unpre-
dictable and people may behave in incomprehensible ways, and that incom-
prehensibility may extend to YHWH too. The reason for YHWH dictating
this turn of events in Chronicles is not explained in Chronicles, though it is
explainable within the usual theological world of Chronicles. There are
important implications to this observation. The readers of Chronicles are

told that they may learn much about YHWH’s governing rules, desires and
motives in governing history through their reading of the book. This is the
reason for which they are asked to read the book to begin with. But they
are also told that crucial aspects of their history should be simply accepted
as YHWH’s will, even if these aspects seem to defy accepted theological
reasoning. In other words, the story of the secession in Chronicles serves
to inform and balance the main underlying epistemology on which the
entire book is grounded, and surely, this removes any possible claim that it
may have to categorical or universal validity.
3.2. Rehoboam’s Evaluation and its Implications

Despite his actions during the events that led to the secession of northern
Israel, the Chronicler advances a positive evaluation of Rehoboam during
the first years of his reign (2 Chron. 12.1-5; cf. 11.17). Such an evaluation
serves to highlight the unreasonable character of the rebellion of the
North, but there is more than that to this evaluation. To be sure, the first
time Rehoboam is given a chance to act with proper knowledge and voli-
tion (2 Chron. 11.2-4), he obeys YHWH and is blessed (11.5-23), but what
about the time before Shemaiah’s speech? The Book of Chronicles suggests
that Rehoboam could not be held personally responsible for his actions at
that time in the narrative, since YHWH caused him to behave in such a way
(10.15). This is, in fact, an expected theological stance. The importance of
the theological concept of ‘warning’ in Chronicles – and other texts that
eventually were included in the Hebrew Bible – hints at a perspective
according to which people must be knowledgeable of YHWH’s will (or
commandment) and be able to make a decision in order for them to be
considered responsible for their actions, and judged accordingly.47
This being so, and if Rehoboam is not held personally responsible for
his actions at the time, then what about the northern Israelites? When, in
the world of the narrative, are they able to make informed choices and,
therefore, be held responsible for their actions? Although the exact turning-
point in the story is somewhat unclear, the text evidently characterizes the
period immediately following Jeroboam’s religious innovations (from the
Chronicler’s perspective, at least) as one in which northern Israelites are
described as being able to make a choice. Those who are pious leave
Jeroboam’s polity and join Judah (2 Chron. 11.13-17).
Thus, the text constructs a kind of negative boundary test, that is, a clear
expression of what a pious Israelite should consider to be clearly inconsis-
tent with obedience to YHWH and, therefore, absolutely unacceptable.
The text indicates that no Israelite should reject the exclusivity of the
Jerusalemite temple, its personnel and associated elite,48 to do so is to
reject the legitimate worship of YHWH, and so, to reject YHWH (2 Chron.
13.9-12). To be sure, the Chronicler’s message on these matters was
directly relevant to the historical situation of the author and the first
readers of the book in Achaemenid Yehud. I will return to this matter
later.
3.3. Implications for How to Read History

The secession of northern Israel is described in different terms in King
Abijah’s war speech to the enemy forces (2 Chron. 13.3-12). The latter are
identified again as Jeroboam and all Israel (13.4; cf. 10.3; 13.15; the
expression ‫ ירבעם וכל ישראל‬appears only in these three verses), and within
the world of the text, it is obvious that the speech is intended to dissuade
the addressees from fighting Judah. The main persuasive appeal of the
speech is based on two propositions. First, kingship was given by YHWH
to David and his descendants and, conversely, YHWH’s kingdom is the
Davidic polity, certainly not that headed by Jeroboam (13.5, 8). Thus, the
enemy is fighting no less than YHWH’s own kingdom. Second, Jeroboam
(and northern Israel) rejected the exclusive claims and traditions of the
Jerusalemite temple, as well as its personnel and worship (11.13-17). Such
actions are tantamount to forsaking YHWH (13.11, cf. v. 10).49 These two
propositions lead to a logical conclusion: Jeroboam and all Israel are
actually waging war against YHWH, and as such they cannot succeed
(13.12).
A retelling of the story of the secession is included in the speech to
provide a kind of historical background to the situation and to support the
main rhetorical claim of the speech. To be sure, such a retelling must be
consistent with the facts of the events as known to the characters in the
book – and as known to the first readers of the book – to be effective, and
this strengthens the persuasive appeal of the speech.
Thus, whereas the secession is associated, as expected, with Jeroboam
and Rehoboam, for obvious rhetorical reasons Abijah does not tell Jero-
boam and the northern Israelites, who outnumber him and are just about
to engage in battle with him, that their rebellion against the house of
David, the establishment of their own kingdom and even the choice of
Jeroboam were all from YHWH. Had Abijah advanced such a claim, he
would have seriously weakened the basic argument of his speech. In fact,
within its narrative setting, such a claim would have been almost ludicrous,
and the more so since this would have been the basic theological claim of
his enemies: that Jeroboam’s coronation and the establishment of the

Northern Kingdom were supported by Israel’s deity,50 and accordingly,
those who fight against Jeroboam and Israel are actually waging war against
YHWH.
In Chronicles, pious kings who deliver important speeches are charac-
terized as good, powerful rhetors (cf. 2 Chron. 20.5-13). As such, Abijah
has to sidestep skillfully the obvious fact that Jeroboam and Israel actually
succeeded in the past, by either denying any lasting meaning to that suc-
cess or by associating negative meanings with it, or both. So Abijah em-
phasizes first the totally contingent character of such a success: it just
happened that at the time of the rebellion Rehoboam was ‘young and soft-
hearted’ (‫)נער ורך לבב‬. By doing so, not only does he take away any claim
for lasting significance of their earlier success, but strengthens the negative
characterization of Jeroboam. He is presented now as a seditious servant
who, only appropriately, paired with worthless scoundrels ( ‫אנשים רקים בני‬
‫)בליעל‬, set resolutely (‫ )יתאמצו‬to take (unfair) advantage of a youth unfit
for battle (cf. Deut. 20.8). Thus, in his retelling of the story, Abijah: (1)
makes use of a common ancient Near Eastern understanding that slaves or
servants who rebel and leave their masters are asocial characters that
should be subdued, lest the fabric of society be weakened;51 (2) assigns
shame rather than honor to Jeroboam’s success; (3) through his emphasis
on Jeroboam and his scoundrels rhetorically disassociates ‘all Israel’ (that
is, those who stand before him ready for battle) from the shameful
reported actions and from their leader; and (4) connotes that Jeroboam’s
success was due only to a temporary set of circumstances that no longer
exist (2 Chron. 13.6-7), so as to implicitly state that his success should not
be construed as a sign of YHWH’s support of him. The rest of the speech
makes the case that those who stand against the Davidic king wage war
against (not for) YHWH.
The Chronicler, however, does more than just pen an excellent rhetori-
cal speech. The attention of the primary readership is drawn to understand
speeches within their setting in the history of Israel. Within Chronicles,
Abijah’s speech does not negate or detract from the permanent value of
the word of YHWH, such as that which came to Shemaiah (2 Chron. 11.2-
4).52 Whereas the speech of Abijah serves its narrative purpose and
portrays the king as a pious man, it provides neither an explanation for the
continued existence of the Northern Kingdom for centuries after the
speech, nor accounts for the separate existence of Yehud and Samaria in
the Chronicler’s own day. It also does not explain Abijah’s actions after the
defeat of Jeroboam and ‘all Israel’. The enduring significance of the divine
speech will be discussed in the next section, but it is worth noting that the
recounting of the secession in 2 Chronicles 13 and its relation to the earlier
point that the secession is from YHWH conveys a meta-narrative claim
about how the readers are to receive the claims advanced in separate units
within the work.
Even if its theme and rhetoric are clearly contingent on its circum-
stances within the world of the narrative, the speech remains an integral
part of Chronicles as a whole. The process of reading and rereading the
book brings to the forefront an allusion created by the choice of words in
the description of Rehoboam that goes beyond the immediate purposes of
the speech in the book. Whereas Abijah portrays Rehoboam as an inex-
perienced, ‘tender’ youth, easy to take advantage of, the precise words that
the Chronicler places in Abijah’s mouth, namely ‫נער ורך לבב‬, remind the
readers of the only other personage to whom the precise phrase ‫ נער ורך‬is
associated in Chronicles and in the entire Hebrew Bible, namely Solomon,
and more precisely Solomon in relation to the construction of the temple
(1 Chron. 22.5; 29.1). Of course, Abijah does not attempt to state in these
circumstances that Rehoboam was a second Solomon, but his words carry
in a way unbeknown to the character in the book a significance that
becomes apparent to the reader. The comparison between Solomon and
Rehoboam is not meant to emphasize the need for help from their
respective parents (1 Chron. 22.5; 29.2-9), after all, within the world of
Chronicles, Solomon left his son a kingdom ready to be governed, as one
might expect a noble and pious ruler to do. The commonality between the
two cases concerns the seemingly unexplainable behavior of YHWH and
the power of divine decisions irrespective of human actions. The deity
chooses and blesses Solomon with peace and the completion of the temple
before Solomon could have ‘earned’ such a blessing. The choice of Solo-
mon is YHWH’s alone and is neither explainable nor predictable within
the usual patterns of the Chronicler’s historiography; it cannot be
abstracted from them (1 Chron. 22.9), nor can it be derived at the time
from any personal attribute of the king. The same may be said for the
lasting division of the kingdom.53
3.4. The Word of YHWH to Shemaiah: Resolving Tension with Agreed

Historical Facts and Implications for Yehud
YHWH’s word to Shemaiah is brief but has pervasive and enduring
implications. Not only does it state that the establishment of the Northern
Kingdom is due to YHWH, but it also forbids the Judahite king from
attacking the North to reassert control over it.54 This second aspect of the
divine communication solves a vexing historiographical and ideological

problem in Chronicles. Not only did Rehoboam not attack the North, but
no pious Judean king after him tried to do so in order to re-establish the
Davidic–Solomonic kingdom, even when the narrative implies that such
would have been possible.
The most obvious example of this situation concerns Abijah, who
(according to Chronicles) won a mighty victory over the North. In fact, the
Chronicler notes that the northern Israelites were subdued (2 Chron.
13.18) and that Jeroboam never gained strength in the days of Abijah
(13.20). But if such was the case, then why did Abijah take only three
border cities – which not incidentally were most likely within the territory
of Persian Yehud?55 Certainly, the Chronicler would have recognized that
he could have brought the rebellion of Israel against the house of David
and YHWH (2 Chron. 10.19; 13.5, 8) to an end at that moment. But the
issue extends beyond Abijah. Chronicles reports that no Judahite king ever
initiated a war aimed at reconquering Israel.56 This matter raises serious
theological questions, because within the worldview of Chronicles, letting
Israelites dwell in the Northern Kingdom is tantamount to letting them
live outside the kingdom of YHWH (1 Chron. 17.14) and follow a sinful
religious path. To be sure, the Chronicler could not have told readers that
Judah annexed northern Israel and reconstituted the Davidic–Solomonic
kingdom, since the corpus of facts about Israel’s history that was accepted
by the Chronicler’s community would have simply preempted such a
possibility. The word of YHWH to Shemaiah provides the requisite theo-
logical explanation.
It is worth noting that the significance of the word of YHWH to She-
maiah does not vanish even after the destruction of the Northern King-
dom. To be sure, there is no possible theological need now to dethrone a
non-Davidic king, but still the Judahite kings do not annex the North. The
leading Judahite kings of the time, Hezekiah and Josiah, are characterized
as rulers who encouraged northern Israelites to worship YHWH properly
at Jerusalem, and they were largely successful in this endeavor, purging the
North as well as the South from theologically improper cultic objects and
installations (2 Chron. 30.1–31.1; 34.6-7).
There is no doubt that within the world of Chronicles, both of these
kings could have annexed the North. This is obviously true after such a
major political and military success as Hezekiah’s defeat of Sennacherib,57
and elsewhere Chronicles notes their ability to go north and effect with
popular support a purge of altars and bamot (2 Chron. 31.1; cf. 34.4).58 The
theological gap created by the failure to reconstitute the Davidic–Solomonic
kingdom under such circumstances is only underscored by the fact that

Hezekiah and to some extent Josiah are portrayed in Chronicles in a way
that is reminiscent of David or Solomon.59
Yet Chronicles informs its readers in numerous ways that neither Heze-
kiah nor Josiah became kings of a reconstituted ‘united kingdom’. First,
nowhere is it stated that the elders or chiefs of the northern tribes crowned
these Davidides as kings over them, or that the kings took such honors for
themselves. Moreover, the relevant narratives about these kings in Chroni-
cles consistently refer to them as kings of Judah (2 Chron. 30.24; 34.24, 26;
cf. 32.8, 9, 23; 35.21). This appellative stands in clear contrast with the use
of the term ‘king of Israel’ for David and Solomon in the same narrative
(2 Chron. 29.27; 30.26; 35.3, 4; cf. 35.18 – which includes David and
Solomon). Further, these narratives clearly imply that the polity over
which these kings reign is the kingdom of Judah. For instance, they consult
‫ שרים‬who are clearly Judahite (see, among others, 2 Chron. 30.2, 6, 12, 24;
31.8; 32.3, 6; 35.8). When Chronicles describes Sennacherib’s attack
against Hezekiah and Judah, there is no reference to any campaign against
Northern Israel. When he dies, it is ‘all Judah and the inhabitants of
Jerusalem’ who mourn him (2 Chron. 32.33; cf. 35.24 for Josiah). In addi-
tion, had there been a new Davidic kingdom in the historical narrative,
when would it have narrowed to ‘Judah and Jerusalem’ alone? There is no
account of a second loss of the North anywhere in Chronicles.
Again the Chronicler could not have told the readers of the book that
Hezekiah or Josiah annexed northern Israel and reconstituted the ‘united
kingdom’. The corpus of facts about Israel’s history that were accepted by
the community for which Chronicles was written would have simply pre-
empted such a possibility from even being raised.60 The theological expla-
nation – that the existence of a divided polity is from YHWH, and so it
cannot be overcome by human hands – shapes the stories about two
mighty, pious kings, who could have annexed the North but did not do so.
Although these two kings did not annex the North, it is not the case that
they did nothing for their northern kinsmen.61 As mentioned above, these
pious rulers of Judah attempted to bring northern Israelites to worship
YHWH properly at Jerusalem. They were at least partially successful in
reuniting Israel as a correct worshiping community around the Jerusalemite
temple, its ritual, claims, traditions and leadership.
These historical narratives and the theological significance they assign
to these events in the monarchic past carried substantial ideological
implications for Achaemenid Yehud and particularly for its relations with
Samaria and the Yahwistic traditions of the latter. If the ideological
proposition that northern Israel is to Samaria as monarchic Judah is to

Yehud is accepted,62 then two observations follow: (1) the Samarians are
Israel, and (2) their polity is separate from Yehud and should remain that
way, because it is YHWH’s will. Yehud should not attempt to conquer
and incorporate the North or any portion thereof,63 even if this were
possible,64 and Yehud should also not attempt to build any alliances with
the North.65 Discourses about inviting the northern Israelites/Samarians
to follow the LORD and, accordingly, to accept the exclusive role of the
Jerusalemite temple are not only possible, but also commendable. But to
be sure, these discourses carried a strong geo-political dimension. If the
northerners dwelling outside the province of Yehud lived in a polity that
allowed their full acceptance of the Jerusalemite temple ideology and
ritual, then they may remain in their own towns (2 Chron. 31.1),66 but if
this is not the case, just as during the time of the secession and for all the
independent existence of northern Israel, then pious Israelites must move
to Yehud and fortify it (2 Chron. 13.13-17).67 To remain in the North
under these conditions is tantamount to forsaking YHWH and so makes
them liable to divine punishment (cf. 2 Chron. 30.6-9).
Therefore, the concept of ‘all Israel’ here leads to a theological demand
that the Samarians Yehuditize themselves and to a threat of divine pun-
ishment if they fail to do so. In the actual world of the primary readership
of Chronicles, neither the Samarian center of power nor most Samarians
would Yehuditize themselves or agree with the exclusive, Jerusalem-
centered position advanced here. Within the worldview of Chronicles,
the Samarian positions and actions would bring the wrath of YHWH
against them. But even so, the political secession of northern Israel, along
with all its implications, was due to YHWH, and it was not supposed to
be overcome by human hands or words.68
3.5. Shechem, Jerusalem, and Persian Period Yehud

The first unexplainable decision in the story of the secession was the
selection of Shechem over Jerusalem as the place for coronation. To be
sure, the reference to Shechem was also among the core facts from which
the Chronicler could not deviate. References that are a discursive neces-
sity, however, do not lose meaning. Instead, they gain meaning within the
narrative.
Although in Chronicles Shechem is mentioned only here and in 1 Chron.
6.52 (EVV v. 67) and 7.28, it is likely that the literati in Achaemenid Yehud
would have been aware of the traditional and religious significance of
Shechem and the associated Mt Gerizim. To be sure, for Jerusalemite
readers in the Hellenistic period – and for Roman period Samaritans and
Jews – the symbolic polarity of Shechem/Mt Gerizim and Jerusalem/Mt
Zion was an important theological component of some of their discourses,69
and sometimes it deeply affected politics as well.70 Even if Chronicles was
written before the Hellenistic period and so before the building of the
Samarian/Samaritan temple,71 there is positive proof of strong pre-existing
Samarian traditions associated with Mt Gerizim/Shechem.72 The Yehudite
literati who lived in the Achaemenid period were well aware of these
traditions. In fact, some traditions about the sacral role of Shechem were
included in their own literature (e.g., Gen. 12.6-7; 33.18-20; Josh. 24.1,
25).73
Chronicles could not have advanced spatial settings of the secession
different from those agreed upon by the community any more than it
could have changed the temporal settings. Lack of malleability regarding
these facts necessarily led to the reference to Shechem in 2 Chron. 10.1.
But whereas the choice of Shechem as the meeting place for the assembly
is clearly understandable within the (hi)story narrated in Kings – and there
it is due at least in the main to political considerations – the situation in
Chronicles is vastly different. In the latter, a cultic connotation and above
all an unexplainable dimension to the selection of the city come to the
forefront. The readers of Chronicles are left to deal not only with the
question of why YHWH caused the secession, but also of why YHWH
made an anti-Jerusalem possible, an institution that could only lead Israel
astray. The book’s response is that the answer to this question is with
YHWH, but beyond the reach of the Yehudite literati, including, of course,
the author of Chronicles and its first readers.
Endnotes
* This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution that was first pub-
lished as ‘The Secession of the Northern Kingdom in Chronicles: Accepted “Facts”
and New Meanings’, in M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The
Chronicles as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; London:
T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 61-88. May this contribution continue to honor Professor Ralph
W. Klein, an inspiring scholar of the book of Chronicles. I wish to express my gratitude
to T&T Clark International/Continuum Press for allowing me to republish this essay in
the present volume.
1. Given that the book was read, studied, copied and maintained by the commu-
nity, the assumption is that the intended readership was relatively similar to the
primary readership. It bears note that this readership was actually a rereadership, since
the book was meant to be read and reread. From a social perspective, it is obvious that
the primary target and actual readership of the book consisted of the relatively few
bearers of high literacy in Yehud, that is, its literati.
2. On these matters see also Chapter 4, and my ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sen-
nacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in a
Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 2003), pp. 73-105.
3. It is to be stressed that facts agreed upon within a particular community (e.g.,
Achaemenid Yehud) do not have to be ‘historical facts’ in the contemporary sense of
the term. For the present discussion the question of whether there was a secession of
the North that in any manner resembled the memory of the past upheld in Achaem-
enid Yehud – or in Roman times, for that matter – is immaterial. What is important for
the present study is how the later generations construed the memory of the past, the
story they told themselves about their own past, whether it is historical in our terms or
not at all.
4. As far as it concerns Chronicles, there is no difference between the terms ‘theo-
logical’ and ‘ideological’. Hereafter, the two terms will be used interchangeably.
5. By the ‘Chronicler’ I mean the implied author of the book of Chronicles, as con-
strued by its intended and most likely primary rereaders. These rereaders were asked
to read the (hi)story narrated in the book. The voice of this implied author carried for
them a single narrative that included what we would call the parallel and non-parallel
accounts. To be sure, the rereaders of the book read and reread it within a world of
information that included the stories of the book of Kings – or a very close forerunner
of the work as it has survived – but they certainly were asked to read and study the
book of Chronicles as it was. It is to be stressed that the ‘Chronicler’ so defined speaks
with the voice of the book as a whole, and not with the voice of the non-parallel
accounts alone. It bears note that the non-parallel accounts never existed as a literary
unit or as a ‘book’ in their own right, and as such never advanced a request to be read as
such.
6. Cf. A.C. Danto, Narration and Knowledge (New York: Columbia University
Press, 1985), esp. pp. 11-14.
7. Rehoboam is the first individual explicitly called ‘king of Judah’ in Chronicles,
and he is called such by YHWH and at a crucial moment in the narrative (2 Chron.
11.3; cf. ‫ את מלכות יהודה‬in 11.17). See section 2 below.
8. For agreed-upon core facts of the history of the Northern Kingdom other than
the story of its birth, see my previous work, ‘Shifting the Gaze: Historiographic
Constraints in Chronicles and their Implications’, in M.P. Graham and J.A. Dearman
(eds.), The Land That I Will Show You: Essays on the History and Archaeology of the
Ancient Near East in Honor of J. Maxwell Miller (JSOTSup, 343; Sheffield: JSOT Press,
2001), pp. 38-60, as well as ‘The House of Omri/Ahab in Chronicles’, a paper presented
at the European Seminar for Historical Methodology, European Association for
Biblical Studies, Rome, August 2001, and to be published in L.L. Grabbe, Ahab
Agonistes: The Rise and Fall of the Omri Dynasty (LHBOTS; ESHM; London: T&T
Clark, forthcoming).
9. By the time of the composition of Chronicles there were cultural and social
norms that favored the literary use of imitation. The imitation of writings considered to
be ‘classical’ works by the community served to provide a sense of worth and legitimacy
to the new work. On the use of imitation in the Hebrew Bible – including examples
from Chronicles – see J. Van Seters, ‘Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible’, SR 29
(2000), pp. 395-405.
10. See, for instance, L. Hölscher, ‘The New Annalistic: A Sketch of a Theory of
History’, History and Theory 36 (1997), pp. 317-35, as well as the works mentioned
above in n. 2, along with the bibliography cited in them.
11. See G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Victim?’, JBL 109
(1990), pp. 423-40, (429 and 430). The article deals also with the meaning of the event
within the book of Kings.
12. The term carries sacral or ritual connotations in Chronicles.
13. For analyses of these verses, see, e.g., H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles
(NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 186-88.
14. The parallel text in 1 Kgs 12.3 reads ‫וכל קהל ישראל‬. Cf. W. Johnstone, 1 and 2
Chronicles. II. 2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254; Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), p. 24.
15. Certainly, this is not the position of Chronicles, in which the first thing that
David did, as king of all Israel, was to conquer Jerusalem and the main accomplishment
of the Davidic–Solomonic period was the establishment of the temple.
16. Shechem is mentioned elsewhere in the book only in 1 Chron. 6.52 and 7.28, and
in neither case does the reference appear as particularly important. The readers of
Chronicles, however, were most likely aware of the city, its importance in their
religious traditions and its association with the province of Samaria. Yet, all these
connections make the choice of Shechem even more conspicuous. On Shechem and
Jerusalem, see also section 3.5 below.
17. King Jeroboam in 1 Chron. 5.17 is King Jeroboam II.
18. Here Chronicles deviates from Kings. There is no reference to these works in the
‘parallel’ verse, 1 Kgs 11.41. The question of whether the Chronicler identifies Jeddi
with Iddo (‫)עדו‬, mentioned in 2 Chron. 12.15 and 13.22, has no bearing on the matters
discussed here. The same holds true for the question of whether the sources mentioned
in 2 Chron. 9.29 (and similar sources mentioned in Chronicles) ever existed, and if so,
whether they were available to the Chronicler and the first readers. On these matters,
see, among many others, M. Noth, The Chronicler’s History (JSOTSup, 50; Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1987), esp. pp. 53-54; S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand
Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), p. 273; and contrast with A.F. Rainey, ‘The Chronicler
and his Sources – Historical and Geographical’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and
S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1997), pp. 30-72, esp. 39-40. See also Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles,
pp. 236-37, cf. pp. 17-21.
19. Contrast with 1 Kgs 11.26-28.
20. To be sure, it was easy to answer this question from the perspective of the book
of Kings, but although the readers of Chronicles were probably aware of that work, they
are not asked to consult it but rather the book of Chronicles.
21. The narrative characterizes Jeroboam as an individual who fled from the pious
Solomon to Egypt (2 Chron. 10.2). Within the world of Chronicles, to have rebelled
against Solomon is tantamount to being characterized as a wrongdoer.
22. The book of Kings presents two contradictory images of the reign of Solomon
regarding forced labor. See 1 Kgs 5.27-32 (EVV vv. 13-18); 11.28 and contrast with 1 Kgs
9.20-22. Chronicles takes up the reconstruction of the past suggested by the latter
pericope and rejects that advanced by all the other references and the main narrative in
the book. On the relation between the two accounts, see, for instance, I. Kalimi, The
Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns,
2005), pp. 39-40, 67-68, 369-70; A. Siedlecki, ‘Foreigners, Warfare and Judahite Identity
in Chronicles’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author:
Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999),
pp. 229-66, esp. 252-53; cf. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 201-202.
23. See ‫( ומן בני ישראל אשר לא נתן שלמה לעבדים למלאכתו‬2 Chron. 8.9). In
other words, the Chronicler does not have Solomon force Israelites to become laborers.
Of course, he still needed the labor, but for that purpose he drew from the 153,600
non-Israelites who were sojourning (notice the language of 2 Chron. 2.16a) in the
land. Although such policies may be comparable to those of the oppressive pharaoh of
Exodus (excluding the killing of the males), it is self-evident that Chronicles did not
evaluate Solomon’s policies in negative terms. The exact opposite is true. This case is
particularly interesting given the general tendency of Chronicles on the matter of non-
Israelites (e.g., God may convey divine messages through them; they may serve as
quasi-prophets; cases of intermarriage between them and Israelites tend to be reported
as a matter of fact and the offspring accepted within Israel). The matter, however, is
beyond the scope of this contribution and deserves a separate study.
24. The response attributed to the elders in v. 7 follows the common motif of a king
who deals with his subjects kindly and thus secures their support. The wording of the
response is obviously based on but significantly deviates from that of its source, 1 Kgs
12.7 (on the folkloristic feature of the latter, see B.O. Long, 1 Kings [FOTL, IX; Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984], p. 135).
25. Of course, there might be here a faint echo of the theme of the counsel of elders
as opposed to the counsel of able-bodied men in Gilgamesh and Aga. But Rehoboam is
no Gilgamesh; the youths around him are not the able-bodied men of Gilgamesh;
rejecting the advice of the elders does not lead to victory here; and the advice of the
youths is plainly unreasonable, for reasons outlined above. If anything, there is here a
reversal of the theme that is echoed, and this serves to re-emphasize the wisdom of
following the counsel of the elders.
26. To be sure, it is not reported that he repeated these comments in public, as was
suggested to him, but he did accept the advice of those who so referred to his father,
and it is not reported that he distanced himself from the comment that shamed his
father. In fact, the context seems to suggest that he identified with the gist of that
comment. ‘Loins’ (‫ )מתנים‬here signifies strength (cf. Isa. 45.1; Nah. 2.2). Claims of kings
that their fathers who preceded them on the throne have been powerless or ineffectual
are not unheard of in the ancient Near East (see Kilamuwa), but they require a sup-
porting context. Within the context of Chronicles such a claim borders on the absurd.
27. The king’s action may also have been intended to humiliate Jeroboam by
confronting him with his former superior (1 Kgs 11.28) and an elder statesman. Social
connotations of shame and honor are deeply intertwined, of course, in this literary
report.
28. It is theoretically possible to read the complaint of ‘all Israel’ about their forced
labor, as an expression of their identification with the oppressed non-Israelite gerîm
upon whom heavy labor was forced. But it is unlikely that the first readers of Chroni-
cles read the book in this way and accordingly lionized ‘all Israel’ (cf. Exod. 22.20; 23.9;
Lev. 19.34; Deut. 10.19) and condemned Solomon. Certainly, the Chronicler did not
support such a reading, and it is likely that the readers associated forced labor and
foreignness in the land, and perhaps even linked the latter with the rejection of Jerusa-
lem, temple and David.
29. On the meaning of the name ‫אדנירם‬/‫אדרם‬, see J.D. Fowler, Theophoric Personal
Names in Ancient Hebrew (JSOTSup, 49; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1988), pp. 29, 53, 80.
30. On these matters, see, for instance, HALOT, s.v. ‫ ;הדורם‬Johnstone, 1 and 2
Chronicles, II, p. 29.
31. In addition, 2 Chron. 11.17 strongly contributes to the characterization of
Rehoboam as a pious king in his first years, and the same holds true for his acceptance
of YHWH’s word soon after his succession (2 Chron. 11.2-4). M. Cogan (‘The
Chronicler’s Use of Chronology as Illuminated by Neo-Assyrian Royal Inscriptions’, in
J.H. Tigay [ed.], Empirical Models for Biblical Criticism [Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 1985], pp. 197-209) maintains that the reference to three years in
2 Chron. 11.17 is typological and points to a short period of time (see esp. pp. 207-209).
Even if this were so (which is doubtful), Rehoboam would have been evaluated as a
good monarch in the first period of his reign. For the positive characterization of
Rehoboam at this time (despite 2 Chron. 12.14), see Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chroni-
cles’, and cf. P. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung in den Chronikbüchern
(WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973), p. 127. It is worth
stressing that in sharp contrast with Kings, the first four kings of Judah are character-
ized in a generally positive manner, or at the very least in a far more positive manner in
Chronicles. All of them – except Abijah – are characterized as having negative periods,
but for most of their reigns they are characterized in positive terms. (D.G. Deboys
[‘History and Theology in the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah’, Bib 71 (1990), pp. 48-
62] maintains that the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah is generally positive, but
somewhat reserved.)
32. This observation further undermines any explanation of the secession in terms
of Rehoboam’s wrongdoing from the time of Solomon’s death to the assembly in
Shechem. Moreover, the shift from a period of unfaithfulness to one of faithfulness
tends to be explicitly marked in Chronicles by appropriate references (e.g., 2 Chron.
12.5-7), none of which occur until well after the assembly met at Shechem. Hence,
there is no reason to assume that the Chronicler exempted this early period from the
positive evaluation of Rehoboam. For an alternative view, see S. Japhet, The Ideology
of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am
Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), p. 162 n. 477, where the author writes, ‘only
Rehoboam’s actions are responsible for the division [of the kingdom]’. Chronicles,
however, does not state that anywhere. On the contrary, 2 Chron. 10.15 (cf. 9.29)
makes her position untenable. Japhet supports her viewpoint by suggesting that one
should dismiss 2 Chron. 10.15 as ‘an inconsistent holdover of 1 Kings 12.15’ (p. 162
n. 477). But even if, for the sake of argument, one were to consider the possibility that
the actual – to be distinguished from the implied – author of the book of Chronicles
was suddenly – though momentarily – inattentive and simply copied this verse from
Kings, the text surely does not invite its readers to dismiss this verse. Japhet’s position
on this matter seems derivative of her claim ‘the book’s [Chronicles] outlook may be
defined in Ezekiel’s words: “the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself,
and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself”… Each generation is
responsible for its deeds and for its own fate’ (p. 162). Although Chronicles shows
many accounts in which these principles apply, it also shows those in which they do
not. A few obvious examples may suffice: YHWH’s choice of Solomon cannot be the
result of any pious deeds of the king (1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 28.5-7; 29.1); numerous
people died because of the sin of David (1 Chron. 21.4); prophets were punished
(sometimes executed), because they faithfully proclaimed divine messages (2 Chron.
16.10; 24.20-22); the principle that each generation is responsible for its own fate
certainly contradicts the reported situation of the generations that were born and died
during the 70 years announced by Jeremiah (2 Chron. 36.20-21; and for intergenera-
tional punishment, see also 2 Chron. 29.6-9). I have argued elsewhere that one cannot
safely conclude from texts in Chronicles in which a certain theological principle seems
to be governing the narrative that such a principle applies universally in the work. The
book advances a balanced approach in which implicit statements about YHWH’s way
of governing history in one section are set in ‘proportion’ by those implicitly advanced
elsewhere. See Chapter 8 in this volume. See also below. (It should be noted that in a
more recent work Japhet approached the issue of the reasons for the secession in a
different manner, but still mainly on the basis of 2 Chronicles 13. See S. Japhet, I and II
Chronicles [OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993], esp. p. 657.)
Welch advances the claim that ‘in his [the Chronicler’s] judgment there were good
reasons for Israel having refused to endure the rule of the Judean king [Rehoboam], but
when the breach was final…he went on to describe in his own terms a war which broke
out between Abijah and Jeroboam (II. Chron. c. xiii)…’ In other words, the secession
was justifiable during the reign of a king such as Rehoboam. See A.C. Welch, Post-
Exilic Judaism (The Baird Lecture, 1934; Edinburgh: W. Blackwood & Sons, 1935),
p. 190. Williamson (1 and 2 Chronicles, esp. pp. 238, 251) also seems to echo this
approach. It is worth noting, however, that even if one were to argue that the purported
weakness of Rehoboam that is mentioned in 2 Chron. 13.7 (or his sinful character at
the time of the secession) could have been considered a reason for Israel’s rebellion,
then such a ‘reason’ certainly disappeared well before the battle of Zemarim, according
to Chronicles. On 2 Chronicles 13 see section 3.3 below.
33. For a different approach, according to which the ‘the reworking of the material
[in Chronicles] preserves…the firm belief in divine recompense on an individual basis’,
see A. Frisch, ‘Jeroboam and the Division of the Kingdom: Mapping Contrasting
Biblical Accounts’, JANESCU 27 (2000), pp. 15-29, esp. 21.
34. See 2 Chron. 10.15. Not only is it that Ahijah, the Shilonite, is associated with the
reign of Solomon in Chronicles (2 Chron. 9.29 and contrast with 12.15), but the word
of YHWH had to be proclaimed before the secession itself, i.e., during the reign of
Solomon. Chronicles was bound to maintain the basic facts agreed upon within the
community, which included the fact that Ahijah announced the relevant divine deci-
sion. The text shows also the degree of freedom permitted to an author with regard
to the transmission of accepted traditions: while the basic meaning of the words
of YHWH to Ahijah had to be maintained and so its temporal setting (i.e., during
Solomon’s reign), the reasons for the event and the attendant circumstances were
historiographically malleable. On the differentiation between ‘core’ facts that are not
malleable and malleable facts, see my previous work, ‘Malleability and its Limits’.
35. To be sure, this feature could be eliminated from Chronicles if one were to bring
into Chronicles all the material in Kings that the Chronicler decided not to include. But
from the fact that Chronicles was read within a world of knowledge that included
Kings, it does not follow that Chronicles was not to have been read as work on its own.
Although the first readers of Chronicles were surely aware of the contents of the book
of Kings, they were never asked not to read (and so to reject) the (hi)story narrated in
Chronicles. The very opposite is true: the readers of Chronicles were obviously asked
to read, reread and accept the value of the narrative in the book of Chronicles, even if
– and perhaps more emphatically when – it stood in tension with other narratives that
existed within the community. Cf. R. Mosis, Untersuchungen zur Theologie des
chronistischen Geschichtswerkes (FTS, 92; Freiburg: Herder, 1973), p. 169 n. 2. Further,
one should take into account the typical way that Chronicles advances positions
contrary to those in Kings (or in the so-called deuteronomistic history): to omit details
from the source texts and then to create a new story either by including information
that is not mentioned in Kings or by setting the details in different contexts. There are
good rhetorical reasons for the preference of this way of creating alternative images of
the past over simple denials of the historicity of events reported in Kings.
36. See 2 Chron. 21.7 and 2 Kgs 8.19.
37. See also section 3, below.
38. The narrator now refers to ‘Rehoboam, king of Judah’ and to ‘all Israel in Judah
and Benjamin’. The expression ‘king of Judah’ appears here for the first time in the
historical narrative (it appeared in the genealogical section of the book, in 1 Chron.
4.41 and 5.17, but there it pointed to kings who reigned later than Rehoboam; the same
holds true for 1 Chron. 9.1). As for ‘Israel’, it is now often an ideological term encom-
passing those who lived in both the northern and the southern polities.
39. There is, of course, the reference to the northern populace as ‫‘( אחיכם‬your
kindred’), but the prohibition of attacking them was not based on kinship, but on the
fact that ‘this matter was brought about by me [YHWH]’ (‫)מאתי נהיה הדבר הזה‬.
40. These include: Israel and Rehoboam’s preference of Shechem over Jerusalem;
Israel’s call to Jeroboam; the manner in which a patently false (according to Chronicles,
but not according to Kings) claim about Solomon’s hard yoke on Israel is immediately
and widely accepted by both sides; and, above all, Rehoboam’s rejection of the advice of
the elders in favor of that of the youths, which immediately leads to Israel’s rejection of
the house of David.
41. Cf. Exod. 8.11, 28; 9.34-35; 10.1; Isa. 6.10; and esp. 2 Chron. 25.19-20 (note the
opening phrase in v. 20, ‫)ולא שמע‬.
43. These results include some that would be clearly inconsistent with divine princi-
ples, had they been understood as separate and universally valid. These results serve as
proof positive that these principles were not understood in that manner.
44. On these matters, see Chapters 2 and 8 in this volume.
45. Similar concerns appear elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible. See E. Ben Zvi, Signs of
Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 2003), passim.
46. For a discussion of other texts serving the same theological purpose, see Chapter
8. For examples of texts that advance a direct coherence between human action and
divine reward, see 2 Chron. 12.2, 5; 14.6; 28.6. The Chronicler’s theological position is
one in which these claims are intertwined, informed and balanced by reports of
instances in which this principle of coherence is not maintained at all by YHWH.
47. See the excellent discussion in Japhet, Ideology, pp. 183-90.
48. Significantly, this theological construct, which includes temple and the elite, is
directly associated with the ‘path of David and Solomon’ (2 Chron. 11.17).
49. Although the second argument is given more narrative space than the first, the
two are clearly interwoven. See the reference to ‘the path of David and Solomon’ in
2 Chron. 11.17.
50. ‘Usurpers’ surely claimed divine legitimacy for their rule, their polities, and their
cultic innovations (or reforms) in the ancient Near East.
51. See R.J. Ratner, ‘Jonah, the Runaway Servant’, Maarav 5-6 (1990), pp. 281-305.
52. The expression ‫ ויהי דבר יהוה‬is uncommon in Chronicles, appearing only here
and in 1 Chron. 22.8, which contains another central statement.
53. It should be noted that Rehoboam is described as behaving in an unreasonable
manner in 2 Chronicles 10, but not as an irresolute, ‘soft-hearted’ king. If anything,
one may think that his heart hardened, so as to contribute to the fulfillment of YHWH’s
designs. See the discussion above in section 2. Rehoboam’s sending of the taskmaster
to confront Israel has nothing to do with being irresolute (see above) nor is the choice
of words in 2 Chron. 10.18bβ consistent with such a characterization. Verbal forms of
‫ אמץ‬in the hithpael point to resolute action (2 Chron. 10.18; Ruth 1.8). According to
the narrative, facing the outburst of open rebellion, surrounded now by an enemy who
has just killed his representative and will certainly kill him if he is caught (they were
‘resolutely’ against him; see 2 Chron. 13.7), he mounts the chariot and flees to his
capital to organize his troops and quash the rebellion (2 Chron. 11.1). He is never
condemned for this action; in fact, this would have been the expected behavior of a
resolute monarch under these conditions. For a different position, see Japhet, I and II
Chronicles, p. 692.
54. The expression ‫ ויאסר אביה את המלחמה‬in 2 Chron. 13.3 indicates that once
the two armies met, Abijah took the initiative to begin the battle (cf. 1 Kgs 20.14).
However, in the context of this story his main initiative was to utter his speech to the
enemy troops, so as to avoid the battle altogether (it is unlikely that the Chronicler was
describing him as delivering the speech to them in the midst of the battle). In any case,
one cannot learn from Abijah’s initiative in 2 Chron. 13.3 that the Judean king should
be construed as the one who initiated the hostilities. In fact, this campaign resembles
others in which a pious king is tested by an enemy attack (e.g., 2 Chron. 14.8-14; see
Deboys, ‘Abijah’, pp. 49-50). The speech and the great disparity between the two forces
contribute to the characterization of Jeroboam as the aggressor. Abijah is, therefore,
neither advancing a policy contrary to that of Rehoboam nor rejecting YHWH’s word
that came to Shemaiah, since self-defense was not prohibited. Of course, according to
Chronicles, despite all military preparations the enemy will be much larger than
Judah’s army, and the fate of Judah will depend on whether the nation turns to YHWH
for help. This word of YHWH prohibited Rehoboam (and any other king) from attack-
ing the North to reunite the parts of the kingdom. Its lasting importance is never
abrogated in Chronicles. For a different perspective, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles,

p. 689.
55. See the obvious example of Bethel (cf. Ezra 2.28//Neh. 7.32). It is worth noting
that this is the last time Bethel is mentioned by name in Chronicles. The other two
cities, Jeshanah and Ephron, are mentioned in 2 Chron. 13.19 but then nowhere else in
Chronicles. It is likely that the area was included within the territory of Josianic Judah,
whose northern border was probably similar to the eventual border between the
provinces of Samaria and Yehud.
56. The Chronicler explicitly describes Jeroboam and Baasha as those who took the
initiative in Israelite-Judahite wars. The only Judahite king who precipitates war with
the North is Amaziah, who took this ‘unreasonable’ step only because YHWH caused
him to do so (2 Chron. 25.17-20, esp. v. 20). Since Abijah’s adversaries are his ‘kins-
men’, he attempts to avoid the battle.
57. The fact that historically Senacherib defeated Hezekiah has no bearing on the
issue advanced here. Within the world of the narrative, not only did Hezekiah defeat
Sennacherib, but he was ‘exalted in the eyes of all the nations’ and many brought him
tribute (2 Chron. 32.23). But if so, why did he not annex the North?
58. Compare 2 Chron. 34.4 with 2 Kgs 23.15-20. It is worth noting that 2 Chron.
30.25 and 34.7 refer to the geographical territory that comprises both the North and
the South as ‘the land of (all) Israel’ (‫)ארץ ישראל‬. This reference conveys an important
ideological message regarding the land, as it goes beyond the actual extent of the
territory of the Judahite polity. The text also alludes to 1 Chron. 13.2 (and to David)
and may be seen as a veiled critique of David’s treatment of the gerîm (1 Chron. 22.2).
Cf. H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1977), pp. 123-24.
59. E.g., 2 Chron. 29.2, 25, 26; 30.1, 5 (cf. 1 Chron. 21.2), 26. For a summary of the
scholarly debate on whether the Chronicler portrays Hezekiah in terms of David or
Solomon or both, see M.A. Throntveit, When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and Royal
Prayer in Chronicles (SBLDS, 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), pp. 121-25; idem, ‘The
Relationship of Hezekiah to David and Solomon in the Books of Chronicles’, in
Graham, et al. (eds.), Chronicler as Theologian, pp. 105-21.
60. Kings does not claim that either Hezekiah or Josiah annexed the former North-
ern Kingdom. In this regard, its claim is consistent with historical facts as we know
them. For the most likely reconstruction of Josianic Judah, see N. Na’aman, ‘The
Kingdom of Judah under Josiah’, TA 18 (1991), pp. 3-71, and the recent discussion in
L. L. Grabbe (ed.), Good Kings and Bad Kings (LHBOTS, 393; ESHM, 5; London: T&T
Clark, 2005).
61. On the literary and ideological transformation of Israel when this kingdom
ceased to exist, see also Chapters 7 and 11.
62. It holds true in almost all cases, but there are a few instances of ‘boundary
trangressions’. In 2 Chron. 28.9-15, for example, the Yehudite readers of Chronicles
are asked to identify themselves with pious Israelites rather than Judahites.
63. The northern Israelite territories that pious Judahite kings were allowed to
conquer and rule were within the borders of Achaemenid Yehud (e.g., Bethel). Cities
outside these territories (e.g., Samaria and Shechem) were never conquered by a
Judahite king.
64. Historical circumstances in Yehud preempted such a possibility, but the exis-
tence of an Israelite non-Yehud (i.e., Samaria) and above all that of an ideologically
construed anti-Jerusalem (i.e., Shechem; see section 3.5) demanded a theological ex-
planation in Chronicles.
65. On the undesirability of alliances with the North, see G.N. Knoppers, ‘ “YHWH
Is Not with Israel”: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles’, CBQ 58 (1996), pp. 601-26, esp.
612-22, 624.
66. Notice the key ideological demand that Hezekiah advances in 2 Chron. 30.8:
‘Yield yourselves to the LORD and come to his sanctuary [i.e., Jerusalem], which he has
sanctified forever, and serve the LORD your God’ (NRSV, my emphasis). Northern Israel
must acknowledge that it is impossible to serve YHWH by worshipping at any sanctu-
ary other than the Jerusalemite temple. Thus, the Chronicler erects the boundaries
within which a Jerusalemite-centered diaspora may exist. The issue is of central theo-
logical importance and deserves a separate study, which I plan to carry out in the
future.
67. Chronicles allows for exceptional cases such as Elijah, who remains in the North
but is attentive to the Davidic kings and notes how they have gone astray by imitating
and even surpassing his own kings in evildoing. The Elijah of Chronicles does not
interact with the dynasty of Ahab but with the Davidic kings of Jerusalem (2 Chron.
21.12-15).
68. At a later period, the Hasmoneans clearly rejected this theological stance.
69. See, for instance, I. Kalimi, Early Jewish Exegesis and Theological Controversy.
Studies in Scriptures in the Shadow of Internal and External Controversies (Aasen: Van
Gorcum, 2002), pp. 33-58. Strongly worded, negative comments about the people of
Shechem (or Samarians/Samaritans) abound in Jerusalemite literature from the Helle-
nistic period (e.g., Sir. 50.25-26).
70. The most obvious and dramatic case is the destruction of the Samarian/Samari-
tan temple by John Hyrcanus I (Josephus, Ant. 13.254-65; War 1.62-63).
71. The date of the building of the Samarian/Samaritan temple is a matter of debate.
The usually proposed dates span from late-fourth century to early-second century BCE.
For a summary of positions and reference to the main studies on the matter, see
Kalimi, Early Jewish Exegesis, pp. 54-56. This summary should now take into account
the new archaeological data concerning Mt Gerizim. See especially Y. Magen, ‘Mt.
Gerizim: A Temple City’, Qadmontiot 33/120 (2000), pp. 74-118. See also E. Stern
and Y. Magen, ‘The First Phase of the Samaritan Temple on Mt. Gerizim – New
Archaelogical Evidence’, Qadmoniot 33/120 (2000), pp. 74-118.
The process of rebuilding the city of Shechem began by the late-fourth century
(Stratum IV). The city had become a major urban center in the Ptolemaic period
(Stratum III). For a summary of the archaeological evidence and the main works on the
matter, see E.F. Campbell, ‘Shechem’, in NEAEHL, IV, pp. 1345-54, and J.E. Seger,
‘Shechem’, in E.M. Meyers (ed.), Oxford Encyclopaedia of Archaeology in the Near East
(5 vols.; New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), V, pp. 19-23.
72. See also S. Talmon, ‘Biblical Traditions Concerning the Beginning of Samaritan
History’, Eretz Shomron (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1973), pp. 9-33; F.M.
Cross, ‘Samaria and Jerusalem during the Persian Period’, in H. Eshel, Y. Magen, et al.
(eds.), The Samaritans (Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2002; Hebrew), pp. 45-70.
73. The matter raises the issue of whether we might here too encounter a case of
‘facts’ upon which the community agrees, whose significance may be revisited but not
their ‘factuality’. But other alternative or complementary explanations can be advanced,
and the whole issue is, of course, beyond the scope of this contribution. It is worth
noting, however, that there are also several negative traditions associated with
Shechem in the literature accepted as authoritative by the Jerusalemite literati that
undermine the others. For instance, according to Gen. 35.4, it is a fitting burial place
for representations of ‘foreign gods’. One may note also the spatial setting of the stories
of Dinah’s rape (Genesis 34) and of the failed kingship of Abimelech (Judges 9). Cf.
Y. Amit, ‘Implicit Redaction and Latent Polemic in the Story of the Rape of Dinah’, in
M.V. Fox, et al. (eds.), Texts, Temples and Traditions: A Tribute to Menahem Haran
(Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1996), pp. 11*-28*, esp. 21*-22*.
Chapter 7
ABOUT TIME: OBSERVATIONS ABOUT THE CONSTRUCTION

OF TIME IN THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES*
1
The Book of Chronicles presents itself as a historiographical work. Events
are directly observable, not time per se, and accordingly, events rather
than abstract conceptions of time are explicitly reported in narrative and
historiographical works that try to communicate verisimilitude.1 More-
over, genre considerations apply: historical narratives are not philosophi-
cal treatises. Yet historiographical works (a) presuppose certain notions
of time and (b) construct time. Turning to the book of Chronicles, this
observation becomes obvious as soon as one recognizes the ubiquitous
presence of sequential time and the central role given to the maintenance
of the proper cult, which surely involves a notion of circular or recurrent
time. In fact, as it will be shown, Chronicles implies, shapes, and com-
municates a multi-faceted concept or concepts of time.
To begin with, the very existence and production of the book implies a
notion that it is important for the present community of (re)readers and
their future generations to know about their past – however it is con-
structed – and to understand the cause-effect relations that shaped it –
according to the claims of the text.2 Such a notion carries by necessity
temporal dimensions.
There is clear evidence of both (a) circular, recurrent, or cyclical and
(b) mono-directional, linear, or sequential times in Chronicles.3 The
former involves temporal subdivisions of the day, days within a week,
weeks, seasons, cycles of years, festival and pilgrimage times.4 Most often,
this type of time blended together cosmic/astronomic and cultic attributes
of time. This time was manifested in society, and in the Chronicler’s narra-
tive, through visible, cultic and ritual actions that serve as ‘iconic’ symbols
of the theological or ideological legitimacy not only of this particular
organization of time but also of the society that upheld it. Thus, this is an
astronomic – or perhaps better, cosmic – time, but also and even most
7. About Time 145
importantly a social time. As such, it certainly creates organic ties within

the community, demarcates it from outsiders, and reflects, legitimizes,
inculcates and even embodies particular theological claims.
Of course, sequential or mono-directional time is very important in
Chronicles, as in any historiographical work. Sequential time creates a
linear time-line of events. This time-line may be structured according to a
seemingly ‘objective’ combination of astronomic years and regnal periods.5
It may also be stated in terms of a relative sequence of events (that is, X
occurred after Y),6 or as genealogical data and the like. On the surface, this
time may be considered ‘external’ to the community, or at least ‘objective’,
but significantly, it is organized around, and communicates particular
periodizations that emphasize certain aspects of the past of the com-
munity,7 obscure others,8 and contribute to a particular shaping of the
memory of the community’s past and of its identity. Moreover, the arrow-
like character of sequential time is an absolutely indispensable require-
ment for any historiographical work that involves sets of cause-effect
relations. As it is well known, the latter is a central concern in Chronicles.9
Further and at a very basic level, the construction of time as present,
past, and future is also dependent on sequential time, though it is far from
being hermetically compartmentalized in social life and discourse. In his-
toriographical works – as probably elsewhere – the system of selected and
socially constructed memories called ‘the past’ is and has always been a
‘becoming past’ (rather than an immutable past).10 Just as ‘The Great War’
turned into World War 1 after World War 2, both the present of the
communities in which the books of Samuel and Kings were composed and
also the (image of the) past shaped by the narrative of Samuel–Kings are
certainly ‘becoming past’ from the viewpoint of the Chronicler and the
readership of Chronicles.11
There were also additional sets of features that contributed to the
construction of time beyond the pair ‘sequential-cyclic’ within the society
in which and for which the book of Chronicles was composed. For instance,
one may mention the set constructed around: (a) the abstract concept of
time, per se, as a uniform, ever-present singular entity in which events take
place and which can be measured in accordance to divine will,12 and (b) an
approach according to which concrete events not only characterize but
even embody their time, to the point that time units may be personified
and even cursed.13
Taking all this into account, it becomes obvious that only a full-length
monograph may address the different and complementary concepts and
constructions of time and even time-lines in Chronicles, along with their
theological implications, their interactions in the construction of a past,

and their particular social implications.14 Thus the present article cannot
be more than a preliminary and partial contribution to such a larger topic.
This study focuses on a few issues associated with sequential time in
Chronicles and develops some preliminary observations that may contrib-
ute to a study of concepts, constructions, and arrangements of time that
are reflected in, and shaped by, the book of Chronicles, and which were, of
course, communicated to its (re)readership.15
2
Sequential time is marked in different ways in Chronicles. It is marked by
genealogies, by explicit or implicit ‘earlier or later than’ claims, by refer-
ences to years (or months) within a single regnal period, and by a system of
regnal years that covered the entire monarchic period.
It is significant that in Chronicles each king of Judah reigned the same
number of years (or months if appropriate) as he reigned according to the
Masoretic Text16 books of Kings and Samuel.17 Moreover, in all but one
case18 the age of the Judean king at the time of his ascension to the throne
is the same as in the so-called (or usually called) deuteronomistic history.
To be sure, this absolute (or almost absolute) consistency stands out
against the background of the general lack of consistency within Chroni-
cles and the well-known and substantial differences that exist between
accounts in the deuteronomistic history and Chronicles.19 This consis-
tency in relation to the length of each regnal period is particularly note-
worthy since at times, when there was a substantial theological reason, the
Chronicler reorganized the received internal sequence and the explicit
chronology of events within the limits of a regnal period, to the point of
creating accounts that stand in outright contradiction to the testimony of
Kings.20
Theological reasons, however, never led the Chronicler to change the
total length of a regnal period, despite the serious theological tensions that
such information seemed to have caused. Thus, for instance, the account
of a long living and most sinful king such as Manasseh in Kings (2 Kgs
21.1-18; and see also 2 Kgs 24.3) had to be ‘domesticated’ in Chronicles
(2 Chron. 33.1-20). But this was done not by changing its length, but rather
by including a report about his repentance and the reform he carried out.
Similarly, the account of Abijah, a pious king who reigned for a short
period, was also ‘domesticated’ by the Chronicler. Whereas in the text the
sinful Jeroboam is smitten by YHWH and dies following his confrontation
7. About Time 147
with pious Abijah, the latter grows mighty and marries (i.e., ‘took’) 14 wives,
and fathers 38 children (see 2 Chron. 13.20-21).21 And yet, despite the ten-
sion that it creates, the three-year limit to his reign is not removed.22
Chronological data in Kings relating to the length and the age at the
ascension to the throne is maintained even when it is difficult in itself,
such as the well-known problem of the age at which Ahaz fathered Heze-
kiah according to Kings23 (see 2 Kgs 16.2 and cf. 18.2; and see MT 2 Chron.
28.1 and 29.1),24 despite the large degree of freedom attested in its rework-
ing of the accounts of Ahaz and Hezekiah.
The lack of any changes regarding this particular temporal information
is even more conspicuous given that the Chronicler felt free to change
from the source text in Kings on other matters within the same literary
units – namely introductory regnal summaries – in which the mentioned
chronological information was provided.25 In fact, the Chronicler felt free
even to omit the entire unit if it could have raised problems in the Chroni-
cler’s account, provided that the length of the reign is mentioned else-
where in the regnal account. Thus, there is no parallel to 1 Kgs 15.9-10, but
Chronicles includes a reference to the forty-first year of Asa in 2 Chron.
16.13 that has no parallel in 1 Kgs 15.24. This being so, the reason that the
Chronicler did not change the mentioned temporal information cannot be
directly related to the Chronicler’s particular perception of the genre of
these units, nor to any argument about the Chronicler’s understanding of
the sources that may have been behind the text of these units in Kings.
If so, several questions seem to arise, among them:
• Why did the Chronicler feel so strongly about the necessity to
keep with no change at all, the exact spans of time that each king
of Judah reigned (and the ascension age)? What kind of message
and horizon of thought is conveyed to the intended audience of
Chronicles – who lived in the Persian period – by the implicit
characterization of this type of data relating to the kings of Judah
as ‘unchangeable’?
• Which features does this particular organization of the time in the
past have that set it apart from others?
• How does this construction of time relate to other constructions
of time in Chronicles, both sequential and recurrent or circular?
• How does the theological or ideological message conveyed by this
construction of time relate to other aspects of the theology ex-
pressed in Chronicles?
3
To begin with, it is worth stressing that the lack of malleability in the
sequential construction of time in terms of the monarchic polity and its
center of power (namely, the king) stands in tension with the potential
malleability of time lines construed around the continuity of generations
and birthing concepts as demonstrated by the genealogies. The latter are
often unclear, and at times clearly in tension with other constructions of
sequential time.26 For instance, Zadok was the priest at the time of David
and the person who was anointed as priest when Solomon was anointed as
nagid.27 In the present text of 1 Chronicles 5,28 this Zadok is identified as
the father of Ahimaaz, who was the father of Azariah, who was the father
of Johanan, who in turn was the father of Azariah who served as priest in
the house that Solomon built in Jerusalem (1 Chron. 5.34-36; and contrast
with 1 Kgs 4.2). This genealogical density creates a sense of time expansion
that is directly associated with the Solomonic period and the beginning of
the temple. In contrast, only four generations of priests populate the time
from Solomonic Azariah to the reform of Josiah, that is well over 300 years
in the Chronicler’s sequential time.29 As for the end of the monarchic
period and the first temple, the approximately 50 years of sequential time
span from Josiah (including his entire reign) to the destruction of Jeru-
salem30 are also populated with four sequential generations of priests.31
Thus the text communicates a sense of sharp time expansions or con-
tractions in this type of sequential time that stand in clear opposition to
the absolute rigidity of the sequential time constructed around the regnal
years of the kings of Judah.32 In sum, the priestly genealogies provide a
good example of social time that is characterized by biological or birthing
markers that is not construed under the same constraints as the main,
central, political time of the monarchy.33
Thus the Chronicler differentiates between the absolutely fixed con-
struction of time created by the regnal sequence and similarly arrow-like,
mono-directional time constructions that are organized in terms that are
not dependent on the center of the monarchic polity but are rather based
on the organic continuity of generations, even if the latter involve priests.
Moreover, as mentioned above, in Chronicles the constraints upon the
time construed by the regnal sequence do not apply to the distribution
of time within each regnal period. Not only internal dates or sequence of
events are malleable, but also the sense of time communicated by the
density of events is flexible and can be expanded or contracted, as the
example of Abijah’s account shows.34 In other words, it is not time as
7. About Time 149
embodied through the different deeds of the king and the people that is
unchangeable, it is rather a sequential time that is disembodied of any
action or deed but characterized only by a very particular state of being,
namely that of being the time-span of a certain king of Judah.35
This feature surely calls attention to the person, and above all status, of
the king of Judah, not with regard to his character (pious or sinful) nor to
his deeds, but as a reliable marker of fixed time. Within this discourse the
status of the kings of Judah turned them, for a while, into markers of
unchangeable time. In other words, their role in this regard was conceptu-
ally similar to that of the sun that marked days, and accordingly the
sequence of Shabbatot, seasons and festivals, and years. In fact, one may
say that just as the sun marked days and years, the king of Judah marked
‘sets of years’.
To be sure, in all of the ancient Near East ‘sets of years’ were marked in
regnal years, but the point here is that the text of Chronicles tells its
readers that (a) the king is a Davidic king who had a cosmic role to play as
responsible for the cult and temple of the God; (b) the time marked by this
king is to be considered just as immutable as cosmic/ritual time; and (c)
all this is communicated in a written book that from its own perspective
is not only about the past of Judah or Israel but is also a cosmic book, a
universal history that claims to reflect the divine economy and that begins
with the first human on earth, in a book that claims to be a universal
history and as such begins with Adam but still allocates most of its textual
space to the (hi)story of the Davidic dynasty. To be sure, by associating
with the Davidic king a flair of cosmic attributes, the book raises his status,
and consequently also that of Israel and Jerusalem. Significantly, with this
discourse, their salient position is actually a reflection of YHWH’s unique
status, because the Davidic king was installed in YHWH’s (only) House and
YHWH’s (only) kingdom (see 1 Chron. 17.14).36
Notwithstanding all the social importance of such characterizations, the
fact remains that monarchic Judah becomes past and is actualized as past
in every retelling of its story in the Persian period and in every reading of
the book of the Chronicles by its intended or primary audience. Unlike the
sun and the moon, there was no Davidic king to mark time for them, nor
was there one for quite a while from their social and historical location.
Further, it is worth stressing that the construction of time by regnal
periods is not only mono-directional but limited by historical necessity:
Kings do die and dynasties eventually lose power, as the readers of Chroni-
cles were all too aware. It is true that such a sequence can be stretched by
including all dynasties that ruled in a certain place, but this can be done
only if the monarchic polity/state can be disassociated from the dynasty.37

This does not seem possible regarding Judah in the world of the book of
Chronicles. This being so, the stress in Chronicles on the precise character
of this particular sequential time must be understood from the outset as
interwoven and strongly informed by clear awareness of the limited char-
acter of that time: it was a limited time to begin with.
Limits, however, call attention to, and to some extent construct what is
beyond them. How is Israel’s time constructed once the historical narra-
tive reaches beyond the limit of its previous state? What does Chronicles
communicate to its primary readership about time in their post-monarchic
circumstances by emphasizing the status of the Davidic king as a marker of
time in the past?
4
At the crucial point of disjuncture in the narrative when monarchic Judah
becomes post-monarchic, the organization of sequential time changes in
Chronicles.38 Most significantly, Chronicles does not attempt to adapt or
reformat the old sequence to the new circumstances, as Kings and Jeremiah
do. No reference to the thirty-seventh year of the exile of Jehoiachin
appears in Chronicles (cf. 2 Kgs 25.27; Jer. 52.31).
There is reference to a king, however. Cyrus serves as king,39 and he
orders the rebuilding of the temple in his first year (see Hezekiah’s re-
opening of the temple in 2 Chron. 29.3). But as positively as he – and
perhaps the Achaemenid dynasty40 – is characterized, he is never referred
to as a king of Judah,41 nor is the reference to his term as king written in a
way that is reminiscent of the notes that characterized the regnal sequence
of time shaped by the kings of Judah in the previous chapters of the book.
Although calendar years are still organized according to the regnal years of
a king, as there was no alternative to that system, these regnal years ceased
to construe time in the same way that they construed it during the mon-
archic period. As significant as Cyrus’ role is in the actual restoration of
the temple and as significant as this restoration is, the temporal dimen-
sions of this event are now explicitly associated with, and even governed
by, a different organization of time (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22).
When the book deals with desolation and restoration, a new prophetic-
cultic, and above all textually inscribed, time takes the place of the old. The
transition from desolation to restoration is now framed around shabbatot,
around 70 years; that is ten shabbatot of desolation, which are to be fol-
lowed by the beginning of a new cycle, this time one of promise.
7. About Time 151
Further, this time is shaped in language that is reminiscent of Lev.

26.34-35, 43 (2 Chron. 26.21). It recalls and makes explicit the explanation
of the exile and the promise of hope that are implicitly present in Lev.
26.14-45. As such, it associates the text with a sense of fulfillment and of
legitimacy. Moreover, the 70 years are explicitly related to Jeremiah
(2 Chron. 36.21-22; Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10). Thus this construction of time
not only legitimizes the prophetic text42 by explicitly pointing to its ful-
fillment, but it closely links it to the Leviticus text, and by doing so creates
a sense of harmony and coherence among sources that are authoritative
for the Chronicler and the community within which and for which the
Chronicler writes.43 Of course, by creating this convergence, the Chroni-
cler is creating a new discourse that does not actually overlap with the
received discourse.44
Further, the reference to astronomic years in the text (2 Chron. 36.21-
23) communicates a consistency between this textually-oriented, socially
involved, and particularly Judahite or Israelite time, to cosmic, absolute
time, and as such it legitimizes the latter from a ‘universal’ viewpoint,
which, of course, within the discourse of Chronicles is not seen as inde-
pendent from YHWH but as reflecting YHWH’s will. Significantly, the
time advanced now is closely related not to the central polity of Judah, nor
to the people alone, but to the land as well.
The way in which the time of the desolation and of a new beginning is
shaped, that is, around (astronomical as well as agricultural) shabbatot,
raises also the issue of whether the arrow of this time might be curved, of
whether it must be fully mono-directional or may end up being a combi-
nation of mono-directional and circular. Significantly, although surely
there is no necessity of a return either to the past or to the main lines of
the past in Chronicles, the potential for recurrence or circularity is
strongly inscribed in the theological approach of the Chronicler. This is
so because of the combination of (a) the belief that there is some kind of
thread linking human actions and divine responses, and (b) the belief that
people may sin. The first is a very common issue in Chronicles, and the
second is demonstrated by numerous accounts in the book. If Israel will
sin again, such as it did in the past, then the logic of discourse in Chroni-
cles suggests that desolation will follow their actions, but eventually Israel
will be restored.
I would like to conclude by stressing that this limited study on time in
Chronicles brought to bear a shift from monarchy to textual centered-
ness, an emphasis on the coherence, consistency, and legitimacy of the
authoritative texts, on the coherence between the particular in Israel and
the cosmic/universal, on the land, and on the potential for circularity.

Significantly, all of these traits and tendencies are consistent with the
prevalent discourse of Achaemenid period Yehud in general and with the
viewpoint of Chronicles in particular.
It should be stressed, however, that much of this study was focused on a
particular type of time among the many shaped and communicated by
Chronicles. Genealogical, cultic, and cosmic times, to mention a few others,
are also present. Moreover, the book is still a unit, within which each time
is placed in its ‘proper’ relation by all the other times in the book, for all
of them interact and intermingle in the construction of the past and the
understanding of the present communicated by Chronicles to its primary
readership.
Endnotes
‘About Time: Observations about the Construction of Time in the Book of Chronicles’,
Horizons in Biblical Theology 22 (2000), pp. 17-31. I wish to express my gratitude to
Horizons in Biblical Theology for allowing me to republish this essay in the present
volume.
1. On psychological aspects of the perception of time see J.J. Gibson, ‘Events Are
Perceivable but Time Is Not’, in J.T. Fraser and N. Lawrence (eds.), The Study of Time
II (New York/Heidelberg/Berlin: Springer Verlag, 1975), pp. 295-301.
2. These readers are mainly rereaders of the book. Although for reasons of style,
the terms ‘reader’ and ‘readership’ will be used in this article, it must be kept in mind
that the actual and intended readers were mainly rereaders. I wrote on this topic else-
where. See, for instance, E. Ben Zvi, ‘Micah 1.2-16: Observations and Possible Implica-
tions’, JSOT 77 (1998), pp. 103-20.
3. It goes without saying that old proposals regarding the contrast of a Hebrew/
Jewish/Semitic notion of linear time as opposed to a Greek/Aryan circular notion of
time, along with claims that the ‘Hebrews’ did not have a concept of time per se, can be
safely ignored. On these matters, see A. Momigliano, ‘Time in Ancient Historiography’,
in A. Momigliano, et al. (eds.), History and the Concept of Time (History and Theory;
Studies in the Philosophy of History, Beiheft 6; Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University
Press, 1966), pp. 1-23, and J. Barr, Biblical Words for Time (SBT; Naperville, IL: A.R.
Allenson, 2nd edn, 1969; London: SCM Press, 1st edn, 1962). On the notion and
theological importance of ‘cyclic time’ see also R. Knierim, ‘Cosmos and History in
Israel’s Theology’, HBT 3 (1982), pp. 59-123, esp. 80-85. Needless to state, it seems
unconceivable that an agrarian society will have neither perception nor some form of
social construction and organization of cyclic time.
4. See, for instance, 2 Chron. 2.3; 8.13; 23.8; 24.5; 31.3; 36.21; and cf. 2 Chron. 9.24.
5. See, for instance, 2 Chron. 12.2; 16.1; 12; 17.7, and see the basic event-line that is
structured in the main according to regnal period whose extent is characterized by
(astronomic) years. Occasionally, the number of years is counted on a basis other than
7. About Time 153
regnal years (see 2 Chron. 23.1; for ideological reasons Chronicles cannot refer here to
the regnal years of Athaliah).
6. Explicitly mentioned (e.g., 2 Chron. 20.35; 25.3) and communicated by the linear
sequence, the syntax and logic of particular narratives in a regnal account (e.g., 2 Chron.
13. 4-20).
7. The main of which is the one shaped around the regnal periods of the king of
Judah.
8. See, e.g., the omission in Chronicles of the reference to the exodus from Egypt in
the crucial reference in 2 Chron. 3.2 and the parallel account in 1 Kgs 6.1.
9. This being so, a worthwhile question is whether the organization of time
accepted and communicated by the Chronicler has any relation to the Chronicler’s
understanding of cause-effect relations. On these matters, see below.
10. On these and related matters see L. Lundmark, ‘The Historian’s Time’, Time
and Society 2 (1993), pp. 61-74.
11. It is this perspective that may significantly contribute to the understanding
of the partial malleability of the memory of the past of Israel as it shifts from its
description in Samuel-Kings to that in Chronicles. The issue deserves a separate
discussion, which I plan to develop elsewhere.
12. Although the abstract conception is usually associated with Greek thought,
Sasson has convincingly shown that it likely existed in P. If so, this time was at the very
least part of the cultural horizon of the authorship and the readership of the book. See
Jack M. Sasson, ‘Time…to Begin’, in M. Fishbane and E. Tov (eds.), ‘Sha’arei Talmon’:
Studies in the Bible, Qumran, and the Ancient Near East Presented to Shemaryahu
Talmon (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1992), pp. 183-94.
13. See Th. Jacobsen and K. Nielsen, ‘Cursing the Day’, SJOT 6 (1992), pp. 187-204,
and cf. P.E. Ariotti, ‘The Concept of Time in Western Antiquity’, in Fraser and Law-
rence (eds.), Study of Time, pp. 69-80; D. Corish, ‘The Emergence of Time: A Study in
the Origins of Western Thought’, in J.T. Fraser, N. Lawrence, and F.C. Haber (eds.),
Time, Science and Society in China and the West (The Study of Time, V; Amherst:
University of Massachusetts Press, 1986), pp. 69-78.
14. The two main monographs on the issue of time in the Hebrew Bible are J. Barr,
Biblical Words for Time and J.R. Wilch, Time and Event: An Exegetical Study on the
Use of ‘ēth in the Old Testament in Comparison to Other Temporal Expressions in
Clarification of the Concept of Time (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1969). They include a good, and
in Barr’s case actually excellent, survey and critique of previous literature. None of the
two monographs focuses on Chronicles in particular. They precede, however, some of
the present research on ‘time and society’, on social theory and the study of the concept
of time, on the interaction between identity and time, and to some extent are inter-
woven within the discourse of their times. The latter considerations hold true also for
the important chapter by A. Momigliano, ‘Time in Ancient Historiography’, and for
comprehensive treatment of the term ‫ ֵעת‬by E. Jenni, in TLOT 2, pp. 951-61.
15. Given the focus on linguistic issues that characterized the two monographs
mentioned in the preceding note, it is to be stressed that this study on ‘time’ in
Chronicles does not deal with linguistic matters. It focuses rather on the question of
how time is constructed within the narrative world of Chronicles and what could these
constructions of time communicate to and tell about the social group within and for
whom the book was composed. To be sure, it is most likely that biblical Hebrew had
linguistic ways of expressing time in its general sense (see Barr, Biblical Words for
Time, pp. 100-106, 123), but there is no reason why such a term be used in an
historiographical works such as Chronicles, in contrast with Qohelet. This writer is
convinced that the implicit construction of time through the narrative of Chronicles
may point better at the accepted, though not reflected upon, dominant worldview
about time than a work of ‘philosophical’ reflection (for instance, Qohelet). The more
prevalent a worldview is, the less likely people would reflect upon it. In any case, one
may keep in mind that since one can ascribe concepts to people who may not have a
clear, univocal word to express them, there is no need to argue for the presence in
Chronicles of particular terms or words that convey each of the aspects of time that
emerge from its construction in Chronicles. On more general issues, cf. G. Prudovsky,
‘Can We Ascribe to Past Thinkers Concepts They Had No Linguistic Means to
Express?’, History and Theory 36 (1997), pp. 15-31, and bibliography cited there.
16. According to MT 2 Kgs 8.17, Jehoram the son of Jehoshaphat reigned for 8 years,
but Vaticanus, Alexandrinus, and the Lucianic recension give 40 and 10 years respec-
tively (see BHS). 2 Chron. 21.5 allocates 8 regnal years to Jehoram, just as the MT. The
issue of what can we learn about the MT and the LXX of Kings, if anything, from this
observation demands a separate study.
17. See 1 Chron. 3.4 and 2 Sam. 5.5; 1 Chron. 29.27 and 1 Kgs 2.11; 2 Chron. 9.30
and 1 Kgs 11.42; 2 Chron. 12.13 and 1 Kgs 14.21; 2 Chron. 13.2 and cf. 1 Kgs 15.2;
2 Chron. 16.13 and 1 Kgs 15.10; 2 Chron. 20.31 and 1 Kgs 22.42; 2 Chron. 21.5 and
2 Kgs 8.17; 2 Chron. 22.2 and 2 Kgs 8.26; 2 Chron. 24.1 and 2 Kgs 12.2; 2 Chron.
25.1 and 2 Kgs 14.2; 2 Chron. 26.3 and 2 Kgs 15.2; 2 Chron. 27.1, 8 and 2 Kgs 15. 33;
2 Chron. 28.1 and 2 Kgs 16.2; 2 Chron. 29.1 and 2 Kgs 18.2; 2 Chron. 33.1 and 2 Kgs
21.1; 2 Chron. 33.21 and 2 Kgs 21.19; 2 Chron. 34.1 and 2 Kgs 22.1; 2 Chron. 36.2 and
2 Kgs 23.31; 2 Chron. 36.5 and 2 Kgs 23.36; 2 Chron. 36.9 and 2 Kgs 24.8; 2 Chron.
36.11 and 2 Kgs 24.18; cf. 2 Chron. 22.12-23.1 and 2 Kgs 11.3-4.
18. 2 Chron. 36.9 and 2 Kgs 24.8. This instance is likely due to a scribal error. See
S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press,
1993), p. 1067.
19. S. Japhet has emphasized this consistency too. For her approach to the issue, see
Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 688.
20. See, for instance, the accounts of Asa and Josiah; see 2 Chronicles 34 and cf.
2 Kings 22–23; 2 Chronicles 14–16 and 1 Kgs 15.9-24. On the theological problems
that the text in Kings presented to the Chronicler, see, for instance, Japhet, I and II
Chronicles, pp. 729, 1019.
21. Needless to say, this information contradicts 1 Kgs 14.9, according to which Asa
became king during the reign of Jeroboam, but the point of Chronicles is that Abijah’s
behavior leads to life but Jeroboam’s to death. The ‘explosion’ of life at the end of the
account serves that rhetorical purpose. Significantly, this explosion is associated with
the realm of family and birthing rather than the political one.
22. It is worth stressing that the literary and theological construction of the narrative
in Chronicles is not a direct function of the amount of source material available to the
author(s) of Chronicles. A comparison between Chronicles and the ‘Primary History’, a
closer analysis of this and other accounts (cf. that of Josiah’s kingdom), and the entire
7. About Time 155
omission of main events in the traditional (hi)story of Israel clearly demonstrate this
point. Thus, the density of narrated events in Chronicles is not dependent on the
density of material in the sources that were available to the Chronicler. In other words,
the particular instances of expansion or contraction of time as connoted by the density
events narrated in the book of Chronicles cannot be explained away as a simple
reflection of the availability of resources. Further, it goes without saying that the text
nowhere tells its readers that these instances of expansion and contraction of time
reflect the constraints of the sources available to the Chronicler.
23. Ahaz would have been about 11 years old when he fathered Hezekiah; see,
for instance, Japhet, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 898; W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. II.
2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic
Press, 1997), p. 176.
24. Some manuscripts of the LXX have a reading ‘Ahaz was twenty-four when he
became king’. This reading solves the problem and is accepted by some as the original
text of Kings. See, e.g., M. Cogan and H. Tadmor, II Kings (AB, 11; Garden City, NY:
Doubleday, 1988), p. 186. But this reading may more likely reflect an awareness of the
problem.
25. The changes may include spelling or the name of a given king (see, e.g., 2 Chron.
13.1 and cf. 1 Kgs 15.1; 2 Chron. 26.3 and cf. 2 Kgs 15.1), references to the king’s
mother (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 34.1 and cf. 2 Kgs 22.1), synchronic references to the kings
of Israel (all omitted except the one in 2 Chron. 13.1).
26. On some perspectives on generations and genealogies as expressions of time see
S. Bodribb, ‘The Birth of Time: Generation(s) and Genealogy in Mary O’Brien and Luce
Irigaray’, Time and Society 1 (1992), pp. 257-70.
27. See 1 Chron. 29.22; Zadok anointed Solomon according to 1 Kgs 1.45.
28. For proposals regarding an original text, see, e.g., BHS.
29. Abijah, 3 years; Asa, 41; Jehoshaphat, 25; Jehoram, 8; Ahaziah, 1; no king, 6;
Joash, 40; Amaziah, 29; Uzziah, 52; Jotham, 16; Ahaz, 16; Hezekiah, 29; Manasseh, 55;
Amon, 2.
30. Josiah, 31 years; Jehoahaz, 3 months; Jehoiakim, 11 years; Jehoiachin, 3 months;
Zedekiah, 11 years.
31. Hilkiah is the priest in the eighth year of the reign of Josiah (2 Chron. 34.8-9).
The other three priests in the list are Azariah, Seraiah, and Jehozadak, who was the
priest at the time of the exile (1 Chron. 5.41). It is possible to understand the rapid
change of priests following Hilkiah in terms of the instability of the period. There
were four kings since Josiah to the fall of Jerusalem, but significantly these kings,
unlike the priests are not presented as members of four different generations:
Jehoiakim is the brother of Jehoahaz, not his son (2 Chron. 36.4); Zedekiah is surely
not the son of the infant king Jehoiachin, but either his brother (MT) or his uncle (see
BHS and cf. 2 Kgs 24.17; 1 Chron. 3.15). Needless to say, the four generations of
priests during Solomon’s time cannot be understood as communicating a sense of
instability. This was a golden period from the perspective of the Chronicler.
32. The high priests of the post-Solomonic era are: (1)Amariah, (2) Ahitub, (3)
Zadok, (4) Shallum, (5) Hilkiah, (6) Azariah, (7) Seraiah, (8) Jehozadak. (See 1 Chron.
5.37-41.) In contrast, there were 19 kings of Judah after Solomon. In terms of
sequential time of regnal periods, 5 generations of priests populated 40 years, then 4
generations are allocated about 300 years, and finally 4 generations are assigned to the
last around 50 years of the first temple.
33. This is the more remarkable given the important role of the priests in the world
of the Chronicler. Of course there are additional examples of genealogical time that are
not consistent with other time lines. For instance, one may notice that there were about
20 generations of kings of Israel/Judah (see above), but only 4 generations (Salma, Boaz,
Obed, Jesse; see 1 Chron. 2.10-12) separated David from the exodus from Egypt (i.e., the
time of Nahshon, the father of Salma; see 1 Chron. 2.10-11, and Num. 1.7; 2.3; 7.12;
10.14). It is worth stressing that although Chronicles strongly de-emphasizes the
exodus from Egypt, the book clearly reflects an awareness of the traditions of the
exodus (see 1 Chron. 17.21; 2 Chron. 5.10; 6.5; 7.22) and even of the temporal place of
the event in the genealogy of Judah (cf. Num. 2.3 and 1 Chron. 2.10, and notice there
the reference to Nahshon as the prince of [the sons of] Judah). (On the approach of
Chronicles to traditions associated with pre-monarchic times [e.g., the exodus, the
conquest, the period of the Judges] see also S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of
Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought [BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang,
2nd rev. edn, 1997], pp. 374-86.)
34. See Section 2.
35. To be sure, one may approach the situation in Chronicles from the well-known
perspective of chronology versus historical-narrative time. The regnal periods provide
a chronology based on standard and evenly distributed units (i.e., years, months, etc.),
whereas the historial-narrative time expands or contracts according to the events. This
approach to the situation also leads by necessity to an understanding of the scheme of
(unalterable) regnal period as providing an exact, unchangeable, chronographic time
that is disembodied of any action or deed but characterized only by a very particular
state of being, namely that of being the time span of a certain king of Judah.
36. One may mention also that even the age of such a king becomes an almost fixed
fact, as it were intertwined in the fabric of cosmic time itself.
37. See, e.g., the sequence of the regnal accounts of kings of Israel in the book of
Kings, which includes all (northern) Israelite dynasties.
38. On the literary importance of the end of Chronicles for a critical reading of the
book see, J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998),
pp. 77-78.
39. In Isa. 44.28–45.1 Cyrus is explicitly referred to as YHWH’s shepherd and
anointed.
40. The time of the establishment of the kingdom of Persia is associated with the
end of the exile in 2 Chron. 36.20. Yet, it should be stressed that the text is written in
such a way that explicitly disallows any possible understanding of the establishment of
the kingdom of Persia as the primary reason for the timing of the end of the exile. This
being the case, this study focuses, as it should, on v. 21 and v. 22. See below.
41. Nor could he have been referred to as such, given the viewpoint of the book of
Chronicles. I have written elsewhere on these matters and on the questions regarding
the theme of the selection of a Davidide against the background of a positively-seen
Achaemenid rule. See Chapters 11 and 13 in this volume.
42. It is to be stressed that the reference to Jeremiah’s prophecy in Chronicles is a
reference to a written text. The sources of the Chronicler included not only Samuel and
7. About Time 157
Kings but also other pentateuchal and prophetic books, as the parallels show. Signifi-
cantly, when the Chronicler explicitly refers to sources, the use of the common phrase
‫( הנם כתובים‬i.e., ‘they are written’) points to a discourse in which references are made
to written books. It is significant that, whereas in the book of Chronicles the figures of
the monarchic period, including and even perhaps particularly those just before the
destruction of Jerusalem, are presented as those who should have listened to prophets
(see 2 Chron. 36.12, 16), the Chronicler refers, and asks the readership of the book of
Chronicles to refer, to a written prophetic text. On the ‘combination’ of Jer. 25.9-12
and Lev. 26.32-35 see M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 482-83, 488-89; cf. Dyck, Theocratic Ideology, pp. 79-81.
43. The Chronicler’s tendency to bring harmony and coherence among the authori-
tative texts is well known. See, e.g., the ‘famous’ combination of Exod. 12.8-9 and Deut.
16.6-7 in 2 Chron. 35.13; see also the discussion on Solomon’s celebration of the feast
of tabernacles in 2 Chron. 7.8-10 in Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, pp. 151-53; and
I.L. Seeligman, ‘The Beginnings of Midrash in the Books of Chronicles’, Tarbiz 49
(1979/80), pp. 14-32.
44. Compare with the conclusion advanced on different, but somewhat related,
matters in Gary N. Knoppers, ‘Hierodules, Priests, or Janitors? The Levites in Chroni-
cles and the History of the Israelite Priesthood’, JBL 118 (1999), pp. 49-72, esp. 68-72.
Part III
CHRONICLES AND THEOLOGY AS COMMUNICATED AND RECREATED
THROUGH THE REREADING OF A HISTORIOGRAPHICAL, LITERARY WRITING
Chapter 8
A SENSE OF PROPORTION:
AN ASPECT OF THE THEOLOGY OF THE CHRONICLER*
1
As a contribution to the study of the theology or ideology conveyed by
the book of Chronicles, this paper sets out to develop the idea that the
Chronicler – defined as the author/s of the book of Chronicles – con-
sistently set the lessons that the historical audience may have learned from
some, or even many, of the individual accounts in the book in theological
or ideological perspective by qualifying them with the message conveyed
by other accounts. The Chronicler, thus, shaped within the text, and
communicated to the audience, a sense of proportion that is integral to
the thought and teachings conveyed by the book of Chronicles as a whole.
It is also the contention of this paper that the Chronicler did not claim
or wish the audience to understand reported attestations of certain theo-
logical principles as proof that such principles are universally or absolutely
valid. Rather than presenting to the audience a world governed by God
according to a set of independent principles, whose relative importance
may be abstracted from the number of reported attestations, Chronicles
suggested to its historical audience a world in which God’s principles are
deeply interrelated and qualify each other, and therefore, a world in which
God’s rules cause a variety of possible effects, including those which are
inconsistent with some of the divine principles themselves, had they been
separate and universally valid. This multiplicity of possible results allowed
relatively flexible explanations of events in Israel’s construction of the past,
and in the lives of the audience as well.1
Here I will approach this issue mainly from the perspective of accounts
dealing with a few but central theological or ideological issues in Chroni-
cles, namely: (a) the existence of an individually assessed correspondence
between actions and effects regulated by God, which is sometimes mis-
named the Chronicler’s doctrine of retribution;2 (b) the related issue of
the freedom of choice and the degree of external influences that may affect
8. A Sense of Proportion 161
this freedom; and (c) the strictly human (i.e., not super-human) character
of the king.
2
Even the most cursory reading of Chronicles shows that the text commu-
nicated to the historical audience a strong sense of correspondence
between actions and effects at the individual level, that is, that individual
actions lead to personal rewards or punishments.3 Numerous reports of
manifest instances of an individually assessed coherence between actions
and their eventual outcome and some explicit remarks (e.g., 2 Chron.
12.5b) clearly conveyed such a message.4
It is worth noting, however, that the book of Chronicles contains a
substantial number of accounts as well as of types of reported events that
convey to the same audience a plain message: past (and by implication,
also present) events and circumstances are not necessarily coherent with
such a principle of correspondence; in fact, many times the reported past
openly contradicts this principle, which may suggest that the present as
experienced by individual members of the audience may also contradict
such a principle.
For instance, Chronicles contains four accounts of pious kings who
were attacked by powerful enemies (Asa [twice], Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah;
see 2 Chron. 14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21). Whatever the results of
these wars, in the shared discourse of Chronicles and its historical audi-
ence, such attacks were generally considered a relatively typical divine
response to wrongdoing, a punishment (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 12.2-5).
True, these specific accounts can be explained in terms of the principle
of ‘God testing kings’, and by extension, human beings in general.5 But this
explanation (which I accept) does not deny, but rather emphasizes that
these accounts describe divinely caused effects (i.e., these attacks) that
cannot be explained as a result of human actions within the framework of
a coherent system of individually assessed correspondence between
human actions and divinely regulated results.6
Among the reports that the Chronicler communicated to the historical
audience and that plainly contradict the principle of coherence between
individual human actions and divine responses two deserve close atten-
tion: (a) Hezekiah’s speech in 2 Chronicles 29 and (b) the story of the
census of David in 1 Chronicles 21.7
Hezekiah’s address, a piece with no parallel in the deuteronomistic
history, includes the following: ‘Our fathers trespassed and did what
displeased the Lord our God, they forsook God…they did not offer incense
and did not make burnt offerings in the holy place to the God of Israel…
Our fathers died by the sword, and our sons and daughters and wives are
in captivity on account of this (‫ ;על זאת‬vv. 6-9).
It is self-evident that the text communicates to the audience that sons,
daughters and wives may suffer because of the iniquities of those who are
called ‘our fathers’.8 It may be claimed that neither the writer nor the
audience considered that sons, daughters and wives had an independent
status insofar as it concerns the principle of correspondence between
actions and effects, and therefore there is no tension between this address
and the principle itself.9 Notwithstanding that this position is already a
strong qualification of the rule of coherence (contrast with Ezek. 14.20;
and also Ezek. 18.1-20), it does not solve the tension between the principle
and the text, because not only sons, daughters and wives but also the
speaker and the addressed audience of married males with children are
presented as suffering, albeit in different forms, because of the deeds of
‘our fathers’.
The Chronicler extensively rewrote, and certainly reinterpreted, the
received story of the census of David in 2 Sam. 24.1-25 (see 1 Chron. 21.1-
30).10 But, significantly for our discussion here, the Chronicler did not
deviate from the claim in 2 Samuel that 70,000 Israelites were killed
because of David’s sin. In fact, a comparative analysis of the text of the two
relevant verses, namely 1 Chron. 21.14 and 2 Sam. 24.15, shows that the
reference to the 70,000 Israelites is almost the only element from the
account in Samuel that the Chronicler copied verbatim.
To put it bluntly, either the Chronicler was absent-minded in a very
selective way or was suddenly unaware of the implications and implica-
tures of the claim made in the verse, or one has to conclude that the
Chronicler saw no theological problem in explicitly reporting to the audi-
ence that 70,000 Israelites were once killed as a consequence of David’s sin.
Whereas it is true that unintentional communicative meanings cannot
be automatically ruled out, an ad hoc differentiation between significant
and intentional messages conveyed by a skillful rewriting of received texts
according to certain theological guidelines, and unintentional or ‘acciden-
tal’ communicative messages conveyed by the same author at times of
‘unawareness’ cannot be maintained and is contrary to the principle of
simplicity. It is also unreasonable to reject denoted or connoted messages
on the grounds that they are not consistent with a certain reconstruction
of the Chronicler’s thought. Such an action involves turning a conclusion
into a necessary premise, points to circular thinking, and is to be rejected.11
Finally, even if only for the sake of the argument, one grants that the
Chronicler did not intend the audience to abstract any lesson from this
part of the account, can we assume that the ancient readers/learners of
Chronicles who were trained by means of this book to abstract theological
meanings from reported historical events would not do so in this case?
More than a hundred years ago Wellhausen wrote, ‘(Individual) merit is
the obverse of success’ in Chronicles; only a few years ago Sara Japhet
continued this line of interpretation when she wrote, ‘any ideology of…
ancestral merit (‫ )זכות אבות‬has no place in the book (of Chronicles)’.12
Nothing less than the Chronicler’s version of God’s choice of Solomon
(see 1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 1 Chron. 28.5-7; 29.1) stands in tension with
these statements.
Even if Solomon’s election is interpreted there as God’s granting Solo-
mon the potential to build the temple and to establish the Davidic dynasty,
such a grant is certainly a blessing. Significantly, this blessing is not and
cannot be explained in terms of Solomon’s merit, because, according to
Chronicles, Solomon was not even born at the time of the divine election
(1 Chron. 22.9-10). Moreover, according to this account, God already
knows, before Solomon is born, that he will be ‫( איש מנוחה‬a man of rest),
and accordingly that God will give Israel (all Israel, including Solomon, of
course) ‫( שלום ושקט‬peace and quiet), which is a blessing generally asso-
ciated with individual merit (see 1 Chron. 22.9-10).13
It may be argued that since the election of Solomon leads directly to
particularly significant and unique developments in the reported history of
Israel (i.e., the establishment of the temple and the Davidic dynasty), the
historical audience was not supposed to abstract from this incomparable
foundation-event any information about the usual ways by which God
governs history.
First, the extent to which the Chronicler and the historical audience
would have accepted the principle of non-uniformity of the past is ques-
tionable.14 Second, the proposal itself seems to be an ad hoc premise.
Third, the election of Solomon is not the only instance of reported history
that stands in contradiction with the principle of individually assessed
correspondence between actions and effects. And fourth, an analysis of
common traits among accounts that contradict this rule of coherence does
not suggest ‘uniqueness’ as a main category, instead it points to the influ-
ence of other theological and ideological principles.
For instance, the reported 70 years of exile in 2 Chron. 36.20-21 are
presented to the audience as the fulfillment of the word of God to Jere-
miah (the reference is to Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10, which are interpreted
against the background of Lev. 26.34-35, 43; this text has no parallel in
the deuteronomistic history).15 Not only was more than one generation
affected by this fulfillment, but most of those who were affected were not
even born at the time in which the divine word came to Jeremiah. Signi-
ficantly, there is no attempt in Chronicles to correlate between being in
exile and individual wrongdoing. The connoted message of this text is
clear: the 70 years of exile is not the outcome of a principle of individually
assessed correspondence between actions and effects, but reflects, among
others, the basic rule that a true prophecy is fulfilled.16
It may be claimed that the exile is also a unique foundation-event,
though it is relatively de-emphasized in Chronicles.17 The same, however,
cannot be said of reports such as the one about the tragic fate of Hanani
the seer along with that of people who seem to have been in agreement
with him (2 Chron. 16.10) and that of Zechariah, the son of Yehoiada
(2 Chron. 24.20-22).18 These texts explicitly communicated to the audi-
ence that prophets were persecuted and killed because they delivered a
true divine message. These accounts point to an important theme in
post-monarchic (e.g., Neh. 9.26), and post-Hebrew Bible thought and
literature (e.g., Jub. 1.3; Martyrdom of Isaiah; Lives of the Prophets
[passim]), namely ‘prophetic martyrology’.19 In this regard, it is worth
noting that Chronicles communicated to its audience that the prophet
died while proclaiming ‫‘( יֵ ֶרא יהוה וְ יִ ְדר ֹשׁ‬may the Lord see and avenge’;
see 2 Chron. 24.22). Such an explicit martyrologic statement provided the
audience with an unequivocal interpretative key for the entire pericope,
Zechariah the prophet was a ‘martyr’.20 The concept of prophetic marty-
rology stands in obvious contradiction to that of individually assessed
correspondence between actions and rewards.
It is worth noting that Chronicles conveys to the historical audience
that both principles were at work simultaneously, but with different
human referents. Kings who persecuted prophets were punished and
suffered, but prophets suffered too. Suffering, therefore, cannot be equated
with wrongdoing, though it may follow it.
If Solomon’s election cannot be explained in terms of merit, nor as a
unique case in which the uniformity of history and the divine rules gov-
erning it breaks down, then a different principle may be at work. This
suggestion is confirmed by a comparative analysis of the human referents
of the term ‫ בחר‬in Chronicles. The Levites are chosen for all genera-
tions (‫ ;)עד עולם‬1 Chron. 15.2; cf. 2 Chron. 29.11), as are David and his
house and Judah (1 Chron. 28.4). None of these elections can be explained
in terms of an individually assessed coherence between actions and effects.
All of them point to God’s sovereign will to select certain individuals and
especially certain ancestral families in Israel forever for certain tasks and
responsibilities.21
To sum up this part of the discussion, on the one hand, Chronicles cer-
tainly communicated to the audience through numerous accounts that an
individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects regu-
lated by God is attested in history. On the other hand, the same book
conveyed the message that neither history nor, by extension, events in the
life of individual members of the audience are necessarily explained in
terms of such a correspondence. Thus, the entire book of Chronicles, as
opposed to many of its separate accounts, suggests to its historical audi-
ence an understanding of the divine ways of governing the world that is
much more complex and less predictable than a divinely administrated
principle of immediate individual reward or punishment.
From the point of view of the logic of the argument developed in Chroni-
cles, this conclusion is expected. Examples of correspondence between
individual actions and divinely controlled effects can demonstrate only a
particular positive proposition (i.e., a proposition such as, ‘there are cases
in which this correspondence is attested’), and therefore they refute only
the universal negative proposition, namely, ‘there are no cases in which
this correspondence is attested’. In no situation can these examples lead to
the conclusion that there are no cases in which the principle of correspon-
dence is not sustained.22 It may be argued, however, that from a rhetorical
point of view, as opposed to a strictly logical perspective, the relatively
large number of illustrations of this correspondence could have suggested
to the audience that it is attested so often that for practical purposes it may
be considered as ‘always’ applicable. It is certainly reasonable to assume
that communal understandings of Chronicles were influenced by the rheto-
ric of the text, as well as by its ‘formal’ logic.
In fact, it seems that Chronicles itself reflects both an awareness of such
a potential understanding and a clear rejection of it, because as it is writ-
ten, Chronicles contains several units whose communicative message is
straightforward refutation of such a possible interpretation. Significantly,
this refutation is conveyed to the audience in the Chronicler’s typical
manner, by means of reported events that point to a theological or ideo-
logical truth.
Still, two relevant observations demand an explanation. First, the
Chronicler invested much more effort in showing coherence between
actions and effects (and accordingly in refuting the claim that there is no
correspondence between them) than in showing the limitations of this
correspondence. Second, the Chronicler usually does not suggest to the

audience that this correspondence is restricted in any significant way in
the separate accounts that illustrate it.23
The fact that accounts illustrating an individually assessed correspon-
dence between actions and deeds vastly outnumber those standing in
contradiction or tension with this principle does not necessarily point to
the Chronicler’s adherence to a certain ‘dogmatic’ theology, nor should it
lead to a scholarly construction of a list of ‘inconsistencies’. This situation
is better explained in terms of the historical and rhetorical circumstances
of the Chronicler. One may assume that there was much more need to
persuade the audience of the existence of a certain coherence of actions
and effects rather than to demonstrate that it may fail. It is not only that
common experience strongly suggests so, but a substantial number of
biblical passages show a similar perspective and intention.24
In addition, the Chronicler can be considered a preacher or teacher of
‘practical truths’. The Chronicler, or better the book of Chronicles by
means of its separate accounts, taught the community what it should do in
order to live according to God’s will, and at the same time encouraged
them to do so. It seems more congruent with this purpose to stress that
claims about an absolute lack of correspondence between action and effects
are utterly false, than to emphasize instances of incoherence between the
two. Finally, a good teacher of practical truths must use ‘a manner calcu-
lated to sway the mind’.25 Such a manner does not stress the ifs and buts
of the argument supporting the lesson being taught. If ifs and buts are
mentioned at all in this discourse, they are registered only to be success-
fully refuted.26
In sum, whereas the persuasive social function of the individual accounts
in Chronicles may explain their seemingly unequivocal, universal claims,
the cumulative effect of the implications or implicatures of the different
accounts provided the community with an interpretative and qualifying
key to understand their true message. The community may have read and
learned separate accounts and may have abstracted from them theological
or ideological lessons, but eventually the community read and learned the
entire book, and lessons were integrated and reinterpreted according to
the emerging pattern, a pattern in which a sense of proportion and balance
was much at the forefront.
3
This sense of balance and proportion conveyed through the integration of
the messages communicated by separate accounts is easily discernible in
accounts dealing with some of the theological/ideological assumptions

implied by an individually assessed concept of coherence between actions
and effects, among them, those dealing with the issue of freedom of choice,
individual responsibility and the human character of the king.27
Japhet maintains: ‘One man’s acts cannot determine another’s destiny.
This separation comes into play, primarily in defining the king and the
people as two distinct “individuals”, each responsible for its deeds.’28 The
book of Chronicles contains several accounts whose communicative
message is that individuals (including kings) are personally responsible and
free to choose. Perhaps the most explicit and extreme note in this respect
is the one claiming that 120,000 of Ahaz’s soldiers were killed in only one
day, not because of the sins of the king but because ‘they had forsaken
YHWH, the God of their fathers’.29
Moreover, the Chronicler usually conveyed to the audience that the
kingdom was constituted by king, elite and ‘people’.30 Since the latter two
also enjoyed the prosperity of the kingdom, or suffered from the lack of, a
seemingly strong sense of free individual choice, personal responsibility
and individually assessed coherence of actions and effects conduced to two
main types of reported situations in Chronicles: (a) the kingdom was
prosperous, and the king, the elite and the ‘people’ behaved according to
God’s will, and (b), exactly the opposite.
If so, these accounts conveyed to the audience that during the monar-
chy, the king was very often so influential that the behavior of his subjects
closely follows his, and therefore, he strongly conditioned both the fate of
the kingdom and the behavior and fate of the people, as individuals.31 This
connoted message is strongly supported by several accounts of an immedi-
ate change in the attitude of the elite and the people following the death of
the king. For instance, as soon as Hezekiah replaced Ahaz, it is reported
that the elite and the people had a complete change of heart (see 2 Chroni-
cles 29–31). But even more dramatic, and perhaps more significant for the
understanding of this aspect of the message of Chronicles, are the consis-
tently reported, sudden changes of heart in the elite and the people that
immediately followed the death of a wrongdoing king. Even before such a
king was buried, both elite and people recognized that the deceased did
not follow the ways of God, and therefore he does not deserve burial
honors, so they do not bury him in the tombs of the kings of Israel.32 In
this regard, Chronicles ‘demonstrates’ to its audience that Israel’s past
shows that whenever the leadership of the bad king vanishes, the Israelites
revert to a kind of ‘natural’ recognition of God’s ways and of the impor-
tance of their implementation. Significantly, the opposite situation, namely
that a ‘good king’ died and was buried without the expected honors,
because the elite and the people changed their heart and decided to
forsake God is never attested in Chronicles.
Thus, Chronicles conveyed a clear message to its historical audience in
two respects: (a) the Israelites are ‘by nature’ righteous, but because of a
sinning leadership they may go astray; and (b) the king is only a human but
he may influence the behavior of other humans to a large degree, and in
this respect, he is not a ‘common human’.33 Both of these messages are
certainly in tension with, and qualify the notion of, individual freedom of
choice.
It is worth noting that Chronicles also qualifies most of the lessons
learned from the implications mentioned above, which by themselves
qualified the message of other lessons learned from other accounts. The
extent of the influence of good kings over their people is also qualified
through a series of texts that parallel the bamot notes in Kings. According
to some of these texts, even during the reigns of pious kings, the people did
not worship God properly.34 Moreover, according to Chronicles, there
were cases in which members of the elite influenced the king rather than
the other way around (e.g., 2 Chron. 24.17-18).
Furthermore, at least a few righteous persons are expected to live in a
society characterized by a king, an elite and people who forsook God. In
fact, they are necessary according to another principle, that of ‘warning
before punishment’ which also plays an important role in the theologi-
cal/ideological thought conveyed by Chronicles (e.g., 2 Chron. 24.19-25; cf.
2 Chron. 12.5-14).35 Significantly, the choice made by the addresses of
these warnings is presented as crucial not only to their future, but also as
decisive in regards to the future of those who proclaimed the divine
warning, though in different ways. Asa’s rejection of the words of Hanani,
the seer, (2 Chron. 16.10) led to the king having a foot disease, but also the
seer to being tortured; Yehoash’s rejection of Zechariah’s message led to
the defeat of the king and eventually to his death, but earlier to Zechariah’s
death. Here, from the perspective of the king, there is freedom of choice,
personal responsibility and coherence between actions and effects at the
individual level, whereas from the perspective of the prophets there is a
complete lack of coherence. Significantly, it is more reasonable that the
historical audience would like to identify and actually identified itself with
the pious prophets rather than with a king who sins.
The freedom of choice of the kings is also qualified. At least one king,
Solomon, is designated even before his birth as a ‘man of rest’, a pious king
during whose reign Israel will enjoy divine blessings (see above). Here the
ruling principle is certainly neither the merit of the king nor that of the
subjects, nor their freedom of choice and personal responsibility. A
different example concerns Amaziah. Chronicles explicitly claims that God
caused Amaziah not to listen to the words of the king of Israel (2 Chron.
25.20), because God had decided earlier that Amaziah should be destroyed
(2 Chron. 25.16).36 Thus, at least from some point in time, the freedom of
choice was taken away from this king. But if so, also the possibility of
repentance was taken away. Since the possibility of repentance is a major
theological issue conveyed by Chronicles, this observation keeps us within
a set of Russian dolls, as it were. One principle is qualified by another,
which in turn is qualified by a third one, and so on;37 yet all together they
provide a representation of the ideology or theology conveyed by the book
of Chronicles as whole to its historical audience, a representation in which
there is a strong sense of proportion.
4
To sum up, two main conclusions emerge from this study of some aspects
of the theological/ideological thought conveyed by the book of Chronicles:
(a) Chronicles stresses some messages more than others. This fact
seems better explained in terms of the rhetorical situation of the writer
and the historical audience and their theological/ideological questions
rather than by assuming a relatively dogmatic writer who either is incon-
sistent or incoherent at times, or grudgingly admits here and there that
reality does not follow the prescribed path.
(b) Chronicles conveyed to its historical audience knowledge about the
different principles according to which God governs the world. For rhe-
torical reasons it usually conveyed knowledge about one or a few princi-
ples at a time, that is, in any of the many separate accounts that are in
Chronicles. From this didactic feature it does not follow that Chronicles
conveyed any sense of absoluteness to any of these principles. In fact, the
book, as a whole, is written in such a way that resists such an interpreta-
tion. The communicative message of the book is clear in this respect: there
are several principles which are intertwined; sometimes one seems to be
the most relevant and sometimes another. Of course, this reconstruction
of God’s ways leads to a less predictable world and allows for a variety of
interpretations about historical events and about the actual experiences of
the audience who is learning about God, Israel, and themselves from this
book.
Endnotes
* This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘A
Sense of Proportion: An Aspect of the Theology of the Chronicler’, SJOT 9 (1995), pp.
37-51. I wish to express my gratitude to The Scandinavian Journal for the Study of the
Old Testament for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. I wish to
express my thanks also to my colleagues at the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies in
whose 1993 Annual Meeting I presented the first version of this paper.
1. The basic methodological assumption on which this paper rests is that the
historical-critical study of the communicative message of Chronicles must include both
a discussion of the surface (or plain) historical meaning of the text, and an analysis of
the implied messages conveyed to the historical audience by this text. By ‘reconstructed
historically-likely communicative messages’ I mean those messages that seem to be
conveyed directly or indirectly (implicatures) by the text under discussion and that are
reasonable within the cultural/social milieu of the reading/learning community of the
book. See Chapter 11 §1 and the bibliography mentioned there.
2. The term ‘retribution’ has negative connotations and unduly limits the scope of
the Chronicler’s theological position (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 17.1-5; 27.6). For the termi-
nology used here see B.S. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture
(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979), pp. 651-53. See also R.B. Dillard, ‘Reward and
Punishment in Chronicles: The Theology of Immediate Retribution’, WTJ 46 (1984),
pp. 164-72, esp. 165 n. 2.
3. See 2 Chron. 12.1-6; 21.12-17 (esp. vv. 16-17); 24.23-24; 25.14-22; 28.3-5, and
passim.
4. Perhaps the most eloquent presentation of this aspect in 1–2 Chronicles remains
J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel (Cleveland and New York: Meridian
Books, 1961; German original, Berlin: Reimer, 1883), pp. 203-11. See also R.B. Dillard,
2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), pp. 76-81.
5. See S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical
Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 191-98.
6. Cf. W. Rudolph, ‘Problems with the Books of Chronicles’, VT 4 (1954), pp. 401-
409 (405). I discussed many of the examples to follow in a separate article (see Chapter
11). In many regards, including methodology, the present discussion represents an
offshoot of that study. Unlike that article, the aim of the present one is circumscribed
to one main issue: to demonstrate that a sense of proportion pervades the theologi-
cal/ideological thought conveyed by Chronicles. Such a sense of proportion is, in my
opinion, key for a proper understanding of the theology/ideology of the Chronicler, i.e.,
the implied author of the book of Chronicles as construed by its primary and intended
readers.
7. This story is of significant importance in the Chronicler’s reconstruction of
Israel’s past because it leads to YHWH’s designation of the threshold of Ornan as the
place for YHWH’s altar and temple. See, e.g., R. Braun, 1 Chronicles (WBC, 14; Waco,
TX: Word Books, 1986), p. 218; H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand
Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 150-51.
8. ‫ על זאת‬belong to the next verse (v. 10) as suggested by the LXX. See, e.g.,
W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher (HAT: Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955),
p. 294. It is noteworthy, however, that even if this is the case the basic communicative
message will not undergo a substantial change, only a formal one from a clearly implied
to a more explicit one.
9. I referred to this issue elsewhere; see E. Ben Zvi, ‘The Dialogue between
Abraham and YHWH in Gen. 18.23-32: A Historical–Critical Analysis’, JSOT 53
(1992), pp. 27-46, esp. 42-43 n. 2.
10. For the importance of the story within the reported history of Chronicles, see,
Japhet, Ideology, pp. 473-74.
11. It is worth noting that there is no evidentiary independent basis for the validity
of the premise mentioned. Not only that this premise is necessary for the rejection of
the ‘plain’ interpretation of 1 Chron. 21.14, which by itself would contradict the
premise, but also there are other texts in Chronicles that contradict it, as shown in this
paper. This is not to deny, of course, that the Chronicler pointed to numerous
‘historical’ events that were ‘governed’ by the mentioned coherence between actions
and effects.
12. Wellhausen, Prolegomena, p. 209; Japhet, Ideology, p. 162.
13. The implicatures and implications of this account are many, some of which will
be discussed later in this article.
14. I claimed elsewhere that the Chronicler tends to sustain the idea of a general
uniformity through time in God’s ways of governing the world. See Chapter 11, §4. If
I am correct in this respect, then much caution is due in assessing the value of the
‘unique’ character of an event reported in Chronicles.
15. On 2 Chron. 36.20-21, see M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 480-81; Dillard, 2 Chronicles, pp. 301-302;
Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 417-18, and the bibliography cited in the latter.
The identification of the 70 years and its relation to a possible framework of 490 years
(see S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989),
pp. 18-19) may point to additional and very significant issues in the Chronicler’s
thought and deserve a separate study. In any case they are not critical for the argument
advanced in this paper.
16. On the importance of the fulfillment of prophecies in Chroniclers, see
Y. Kaufmann, The History of the Israelite Religion (4 vols.; Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik,
1936–37, 1955–56; Hebrew), IV, p. 459. In addition, the idea of the land ‘requiring’ its
sabbatical years may have played a main role. The latter topic is related to a certain
interpretation of Leviticus, see footnote above.
17. See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 379-86, esp. 385-86
18. Cf. 2 Chron. 18.1-27 (//1 Kgs 22.1-28; the story of Micaiah, the son of Imlah) and
2 Chron. 25.14-16 (the conflict between king Amaziah and a prophet; no parallel
material is found in Kings).
19. See A. Rofé, The Prophetical Stories (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1988), pp. 197-
213, esp. 205.
20. Such a ‘classical’ statement of martyrology may suggest Hellenistic influence, but
the latter does not necessarily imply an Hellenistic rather than a Persian date for
Chronicles, because of the marked Hellenistic influence during the Persian period. See,
e.g., G.N. Knoppers, ‘Greek Historiography and the Chronicler’s History: A Reexami-
nation’, JBL 122 (2003), pp. 627-50, esp. 647-50 and bibliography cited there.
21. On the relatively de-emphasized chosenness of Israel in Chronicles, see Japhet,

Ideology, pp. 88-96, esp. 92-94. Such chosenness is, nevertheless, implied in that of
Jerusalem, David, the temple, and in the particular character of Israel as a people living
according to the divine teachings given to Moses.
22. See Chapter 11, §2.1.
23. Of course, the previously mentioned accounts of the persecution of Hanani and
Zechariah at the hands of Asa and Yehoash, respectively, are important exceptions to
this rule.
24. See Zeph. 1.12; Ps. 10.4, 11, 13; 14.1 = 53.2; Mal. 2.17, all of which refute the idea
that God does nothing, as well as the implications that may follow from it.
25. Cf. Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, IV, 13.12; 19.38.
26. Cf. the classical confutatio or refutatio. See Chapter 11, §2.1.
27. The king must be ‘human’ if accounts concerning him are to be relevant to the
task of deriving knowledge about the relation between God and the individual.
28. Japhet, Ideology, p. 163. Japhet herself notices that, ‘the separation of king and
people is not consistent’, but she does not develop the point nor sees this as pointing to
a nuanced and complex theological thought on the part of the Chronicler. It is worth
noting that this separation is already well developed in dtr-N. Cf. E. Ben Zvi, ‘The
Account of the Reign of Manasseh in II Reg 21,1-18 and the Redactional History of
the Book of Kings’, ZAW 103 (1991), pp. 355-74, esp. 367-71. The position that in
Chronicles ‘one man’s (sic) acts cannot determine another’s destiny’ has been already
refuted in this paper.
29. See 2 Chron. 28.6; cf. 2 Macc. 12.40. See also Chapter 11, §3.
30. For instance, cf. 2 Sam. 6.2 and 1 Chron. 13.1-5. On this issue, see Japhet,
Ideology, pp. 417-27. The example mentioned is discussed there on p. 423.
31. As expected, the Chronicler demonstrates that this feature also, though widely
supported by ‘history’, is not always attested. In 2 Chron. 16.10, the Chronicler points
to righteous people who do stand against a wrongdoing king and his ‘influence’.
32. Notice the common report represented by ‫וַ יִּ ְק ְבּ ֻרהוּ ְבּ ִעיר ָדּוִ יד וְ לֹא ְבּ ִק ְברוֹת‬
‫( ַה ְמּ ָל ִכים‬2 Chron. 21.20; Jehoram of Judah and cf. 2 Kgs 8.24; 2 Kgs 9.28 and 2 Chron.
22.9 (Ahaziah of Judah); 2 Kgs 12.22 and 2 Chron. 24.25 (Jehoash of Judah); 2 Kgs 16.20
with 2 Chron. 28.27 (Ahaz). That the denial of royal honors occurs in concurrence with
divine judgment was noted by J. Wellhausen (Prolegomena, p. 205), among others.
33. See Chapter 11.
34. See 2 Chron. 20.32-33 (cf. 1 Kgs 22.43-44) and 2 Chron. 27.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.34-35);
but note that 2 Chron. 25.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.3-4) and 2 Chron. 26.4 (cf. 2 Kgs 15.3-4) differ.
That the meaning conveyed in Chronicles is that the Davidic king is human but cer-
tainly not a ‘regular’ human stands in certain tension with Japhet, Ideology, p. 428.
35. See E. Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees: Foundations of Post-
biblical Judaism (New York: Schocken Books, 1962), p. 26, Rudolph, ‘Problems’, pp.
405-406, and especially Japhet, Ideology, pp. 176-91.
36. It is unclear whether 2 Chron. 25.16 claims that God decided to destroy
Amaziah because the king rejected the word of the prophet of his own will, or
whether Amaziah rejected the word of the prophet because God has already decided
to destroy Amaziah. Perhaps the text is intentionally ambiguous. On God ‘misleading’

kings in Chronicles, see also 2 Chron. 18.18-22 (//2 Kgs 19.19-23).
37. For the qualification of the ‘historical’ validity of the principle of warning before
punishment, see the account of Ahaz in 2 Chronicles 28. There the Northern Israelites
are warned (vv. 9-10) – and heed the warning; significantly, the main character of the
account, Ahaz is never warned. The accounts of prophetic martyrology, mentioned
earlier in this paper, are balanced by the report in 2 Chron. 36.15-16 which does not
mention that the prophets were murdered, even if such a notice would have been
expected (cf. Jub. 1.3). The principle of freedom of choice is further qualified by the
conveyed message of 1 Chron. 22.12, according to which Solomon, and by extension
any person, needs ‫‘ שכל ובינה‬insight and understanding’ to follow God’s teaching (cf.
2 Chron. 2.11). The ‘sense of proportion’ is also set in proportion within the message of
the book. For instance, that there is one God, YHWH, that Israel should follow the
teachings of YHWH, that there cannot be a non-Davidic legitimate king over Israel,
that there cannot be a legitimate temple for YHWH except in Jerusalem, and other
basic propositions are not qualified by other propositions.
Chapter 9
OBSERVATIONS ON WOMEN IN THE GENEALOGIES

OF 1 CHRONICLES 1–9*
(Co-authored with A. Labahn)
Although these chapters contain numerous references to males, they also

contain references to more than 50 different women, named or unnamed.
These references construe women as fulfilling a variety of roles in society,
and characterize and identify them in various ways. Although the text was
(most likely) written by male literati for male literati and reflects a patri-
archal point of view, it contains references that indicated to the ancient
readers of the book that ideologically construed gender expectations may
and have been transgressed in the past and with good results. The goal of
this article is to advance preliminary, basic observations about some of
these references to women in the genealogical lists, within the historical
context of the society for which the book of Chronicles was composed.1 It
is our hope that by doing so, this paper will lead to future, more detailed
studies on these topics.
For the purpose of the present endeavor, it seems heuristically helpful
to classify the roles assigned to women in 1 Chronicles 1–9 into two
categories: (a) those in which they are involved in lineage roles often
associated with female members of an ancient household and (b) those
representing roles that were commonly assigned to mature males in the
society in general, or in their household.2 It should be stressed already that
the borders between (a) and (b) are represented as porous in Chronicles.
Although most of the women referred to under category (a) are reported
to perform ‘traditional’ roles, a significant number of them are described as
successfully fulfilling roles usually associated with males within the main
(male) discourses of the time. As a result, the reading and rereading of
these genealogies reminded the (male) literati, for whom they were writ-
ten, again and again, that common social (including gender and, as we will
see, ethnic) boundaries have, at times, been transgressed in the past, and
that the results of these ‘transgressions’ has been positive.3 These remind-
9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 175
ers set in proportion the claims for boundaries that are implicitly advanced
by the same genealogies. The result is a more nuanced ideological view-
point on these matters, one in which claims made at one point are shown
to be neither categorically nor universally valid, and one that allows for
flexible explanations of events in Israel's construction of the past, and in
the lives of the readers as well.4 Although genealogies deal with ideological
construction, it is reasonable to assume that the references to females
fulfilling male roles reflect to some extent the actual state of the society in
Yehud,5 just as those referring to them in ‘traditional’ roles do. Thus, the
constructed world of the genealogies may shed light on Yehudite Israel.
1. Family/Lineage Roles of Women

The most central of all traditional roles of women in biblical – and other
ancient Near Eastern – literature and society was that of mothers.6 Need-
less to say, the male literati responsible for this literature were well aware
that only women had the biological ability to give birth to children and
therefore to maintain, through the continuous sequence of (female)
childbirth, the continuation of a genealogical line and of society as a whole.
It is worth stressing that any genealogical list therefore, at least implicitly,
acknowledges and communicates the centrality of childbirth and of the
females in society, even if they remain unmentioned in the literary por-
trait, and if they are excluded from the explicit wording of the text. In fact,
even these ‘erasures’ of women speak volumes.
Of course, the birthing of new generations was understood within the
realm of a (traditional, patriarchal) family. Thus women were not only
mothers of children but also wives of husbands, or at least concubines
(‫ )פילגש‬of the father with whom they had children.7
As expected in any ancient Near Eastern society, in 1 Chronicles 1–9
women are also referred to and identified as daughters of someone. In
addition, there are explicit references to women in another type of basic
kinship relation, namely in terms of sisters, either as a sister of the pater
familias in the older generation or as a sister of a son within the younger
generation of children of the household of the father. Although these ref-
erences are not absolutely necessary to maintain the (patriarchal) lineage,
the genealogies of Chronicles mention several women in these kinship
relations.
1. Mother—Wife
As expected, women are often mentioned in the genealogies of Chronicles
as mothers. For instance, in 1 Chron. 2.21, the readers of the book find a
reference to the daughter of Machir, the father of Gilead (notice the usual
construction of identity as daughter of X). Her husband, Hezron, married
her when he was 60 years old – her age is not mentioned, see below. She
bore a son, Segub. In 2.24 the text mentions Abijah, wife of Hezron, who
after the death of her husband bore him a son, Ashhur, who became the
father of Tekoa.8 Hodesh was the mother of seven sons (1 Chron. 8.9).
Maacah, the wife of the father of Gibeon, appears twice, in 1 Chron. 8.29
and 9.35. The text seems to suggest that she gave birth to nine or ten sons,
depending on the verse, whose names are transmitted subsequently and
who, as expected, are textually inscribed as the sons of her husband. Sev-
eral other examples of references to women who bore children appear
elsewhere in the genealogies.9
In a significant number of cases nothing is said about the women/
mothers. In fact, they remain unnamed, anonymous,10 even when refer-
ences to named mothers appear in textual proximity of their own, and
even if they are supposed to be of ‘higher status’ than the named mothers.
This is the case in 1 Chron. 2.42-46; the implied wife of Caleb, who had at
least three sons – the exact number of children remains unclear – remains
unnamed, but the same does not hold true for his ‫פילגש‬, who was the
mother of two of his sons. The latter was certainly not viewed by the his-
torical readership as enjoying a higher status than the former in the house-
hold, and the explicit association of children with her serves to separate
the two branches of the family in a way that within the discourse of the
period gives preference to those by the higher status mother. Yet it is
worth noting that the text here does not want the readers to associate
naming with status, quite the opposite. A similar case occurs in 1 Chron.
2.25-26. The text in 2.25 informs the readers that an implicit, but unnamed
first wife of Jerahmeel bore him five sons. The next verse informs them
that Jerahmeel also had another wife, whose name was Atarah and who
was the mother of Onam. The reference to the ‘other’ woman (‫)אשה אחרת‬
serves to create an ideological hierarchy between the two, to separate ‘his’
son from the other sons. Significantly, the lower status woman is the one
that is named in the text, and about whom something is said. Further, the
wording of the text is worthy of notice; Atarah is referred to as ‘the mother
of Onam’, but not explicitly as ‘the wife of Jerahmeel’.11 Yet at least when it
comes to royal wives, the presence of information characterizing the
mothers, even if it is minimal, cannot be associated with lower status.12
It is worth mentioning that ‘wives/women’ are mentioned next to ‘sons’
in a context of military troops and military heads of families in 1 Chron.
7.4. The text communicates and reflects a viewpoint that directly associ-
ates wives/women, along with ‘sons’, with the military potential of the
group. The implied association seems to be that the number of wives is
proportional to the number of potential sons/soldiers in the army.
As in other texts in the Hebrew Bible, ‘wives/mothers’ may also be
described as giving names to their children (cf. Gen. 4.25; 29.33; 30.11, 13,
20, 21, 24; 38.3, 4; but note Gen. 4.26; 5.3, 29; 17.19; 21.3).13 For instance,
1 Chron. 7.16 informs the readers of the book that Maachah named her
son Peresh (forming a wordplay to his brother’s name Sheresh) and
another unnamed mother is mentioned in 1 Chron. 7.23 who gave birth
to a son of Ephraim, after a period of distress that afflicted the household
and – within the explicit world of the text – the male head of the house-
hold in particular (see 1 Chron. 7.21-22) and consequently, in this case,
the father names the child in a way that recalls that distress. Yet, the
readers of the book are also told that the distress of mothers may also
influence, and has influenced the naming and future of their children.
1 Chron. 4.9 informs them that the unnamed mother of Jabez named her
son in reference to her own experiences. The theme of the mother’s
painful effort reflected in his name is then literarily transformed into the
glory of her son through the blessing of YHWH (1 Chron. 4.10; see word
play on ‫בעצב‬, ‫יעבץ‬, ‫ יעבץ‬and ‫ ;עצבי‬vv. 9-10). Symbolically, the mother and
her experiences become embodied and transformed in the life of her son.
It gives notice that the role assigned to Jabez’s mother is far more impor-
tant in the periscope than that of his father, who goes totally unmentioned
– and is perhaps, partially and symbolically substituted by YHWH who
provides him with land, that is, a main component of a patrimonial inheri-
tance – and of his brothers, whose only role is to characterize him through
contrast; namely they appear just so that it may be stated that they are less
honored than him. Jabez’s sons are not mentioned.14
The explicit, textual presence of what in the present form of the text
might be another unnamed mother is obvious in 1 Chron. 4.17, because of
the occurrence of the verb ‫‘ ותהר‬and she became pregnant’. It is unclear
whether the mother mentioned in that verse is Bithiah (without textual
emendation, see Radak; with textual emendation, see, e.g., Japhet), or
Ezrah if the latter can be understood as feminine, which is dubious (cf.
Johnstone), or whether the mother is presented without any name.15 The
entire pericope (1 Chron. 4.17-18) is, however, very clear on another
matter. It associates and classifies two mothers by their ethnic origin. One
is a Judahite (or Jewish?) and the other is Egyptian. Significantly, the book
of Chronicles informs its intended and primary readers that the children of
both are included in the Israelite genealogies. One may add also that the
Egyptian is characterized, on the one hand, emphatically as an outsider

(‘Egyptian’ and ‘daughter of Pharaoh’),16 but, on the other hand, she is
clearly Israelitized by means of her name; she is ‫בתיה‬, ‘Bithiah’, that is, a
daughter/worshipper of YHWH, not of Pharaoh.17 It seems, therefore, that
a text in the genealogies suggests to the intended and primary readers that,
at least in the case of women, the ‘ethnicity’ of their origin (and accord-
ingly, their genealogy) does not fully disappear with marriage to an Israel-
ite, but that in the end, such ethnicity does not matter for inclusion or
exclusion from Israel, because the main differentiating line is that of wor-
shipper of YHWH and non-worshipper of YHWH (on this matter see also
below). Another interesting element in this pericope is that Miriam, most
likely a daughter not a son, is mentioned first in a list of children.18
Another matter is suggested by 1 Chron. 1.50. There, within a seemingly
common reference in a list of male characters (X and the name of his wife
was Y), there is a reference to Mehetabel, the wife of Hadad. The interest-
ing point for the present study is that Mehetabel is described as the daugh-
ter of Matred, daughter of Me-zahab.19 Thus the readership is informed of
one important woman, a queen for that matter, who is identified as the
daughter of her mother, rather than as the daughter of a male father. One
may notice that, in fact, her father is not mentioned at all. It is worth
mentioning that the Syriac seems to be aware of such an ‘anomaly’ in a
patriarchal society and attempts to erase it by turning the second ‘daughter
of’ into ‘son of’. 20 The change only underscores the atypical character of
the information communicated by the book of Chronicles at this point, of
the construction of the identity of a person as son of his mother, and only
his mother, rather than of his father. Moreover, even Matred may be iden-
tified as the daughter of her mother, since Me-zahab (Hebrew ‫ )מי זהב‬may
be either a male or a female name. (It is possible that the context here
favors a female name since there is no reference to the father of Matred’s
daughter). The important lineage thus runs through the women who main-
tain it instead of the male figures.
Just as there is room in the genealogies of Chronicles for a woman who
is explicitly identified as a daughter of her mother instead of the daughter
of her father (on ‘daughter’, see below), there is room also for sons identi-
fied as sons of their mothers. The readers of Chronicles are told of Zeruiah
and Abigail. As it is well known, the sons of Zeruiah were identified only
by their mother, rather than of their father who remains anonymous.21
More importantly, the intended readers of the book cannot fail to notice
the wording of 1 Chron. 2.16-17. Here both, Zeruiah and Abigail, that is,
two mothers are allocated the expected role of males in a genealogical list.
Moreover, out of the two fathers, one goes unmentioned and the other,
Jether, is assigned to a slot comparable to that of a wife and bearer of
children.22 Given the explicit foreign association of Jether in Chronicles,23
one might be tempted to surmise that the book reflects here a tendency to
give preference to the inner Israelite connection, but a more ‘global’ per-
spective is easily recognizable in Chronicles. In fact, references to explicitly
foreign ethnic backgrounds in the Judahite genealogical lists are quite
prominent in the book, and likely stood as a critical response to ideological
tendencies such as those expressed in Ezra and Nehemiah (see discussion
above, and see also below).24 Since Chronicles emphasizes David to a great
extent, and since in Chronicles Zeruiah and Abigail are characterized as
sisters of David,25 it is possible that their higher status here is related to
the claim in Chronicles that they were sisters of David and daughters of
Jesse.26 Yet the readers are clearly told that in their case, the family lineage
is to be construed according to the mother rather than the father.27
There is another, unequivocal case that reminded the intended and
primary readers of the genealogies that the family lineage may, at times, be
identified and maintained through the maternal side. In other words, that
mothers may on occasion take the structural role commonly associated
with fathers. The readers of Chronicles are informed that an ancient
Judahite father who had no sons married his unnamed daughter 28 to a
man who was both an Egyptian and his slave. The result of such action was
generations of Judahites (1 Chron. 2.34-35). The house of the father could
be maintained, because his daughter became structurally speaking a ‘son’.29
Of course, these are not common cases, but the message of Chronicles
here is clear, gender and ethnic boundaries may be crossed and have been
successfully crossed in the past,30 when the situation warranted it.
It is worth noting that, as shown above, some of the references to
mothers in the genealogies include not only an explicit mention that they
bore their husbands’ children, and mainly, his sons, but also some addi-
tional information about themselves. Such references would have been
superfluous had the male literati imagined women only as walking womb-
bearers for their husbands/mates, with absolutely no significance of their
own.
Given that genealogies construct a self-image of the community and
shape borders of inclusion and exclusion and a ‘historical’ memory to
back them up, it is worth stressing that in a number of cases the addi-
tional information about the mothers concerns their place of origin.31
The readers of Chronicles are told unequivocally that some of the men-
tioned mothers, and particularly so within the Judahite genealogies, were
foreigners.32 It bears notice that the women mentioned with their place of
origin – whether Israelites or ‘foreigner’ – are treated in the same way as
other women in the genealogies. The text does not suggest to its readers
a disapproval of marriages of Israelites/Judahites with foreign wives in
principle, nor that there was something wrong with that of a Judahite
woman and an Egyptian slave.33 To be sure, there is, in some cases, a clear
Israelitization of the woman (see the case of Bithiah, above), but even this
Israelitization does not erase her foreign origin. These references to ‘for-
eign’ mothers, and particularly so in the genealogies, makes sense in
Persian times when the polity of Yehud interacted with neighbor polities
in political, administrative, economic and marital realms; the latter at
least within the upper classes. Compare this with the situation that was
so criticized in Ezra–Nehemiah.34 These references are consistent with a
positive attitude and open relation toward neighboring countries that is
clearly at odds with that advanced in Ezra–Nehemiah, but consistent
with prominent references to ‘foreign’ (fore)mothers or wives of praise-
worthy leaders of Israel in the past that consistently appear in the con-
struction of the past that was agreed upon, shared by and textually
inscribed in the writings of the literati of Yehud (e.g., Zipporah [Moses],
Osnat [Joseph], Ruth [David], Naamah [Solomon, foremother of all the
Judahite kings and of any future Davidic king]).
2. Mother—Concubine
Concubines are mentioned as mothers in Chronicles,35 and although their
numbers in the book is not large, a total of four individuals, besides the
generic reference to David’s concubines,36 three of them are mentioned by
name, even if and perhaps particularly when the name of the main wife is
omitted. As for the fourth, although her name is not given, it is explicitly
stated that she was an Aramean (1 Chron. 7.14; on ‘foreign mothers’, see
above).37
Turning to the other three, Ephah, Caleb's concubine, and their sons are
mentioned in 1 Chron. 2.46,38 and those of Maachah, another concubine of
Caleb, in 1 Chron. 2.48-49. They and their children are presented as an
integral part of the family structure, even if they and their sons are listed
subsequently to the descendents of Caleb and an unnamed implied wife
(2 Chron. 2.43-45).
The most remarkable instance of the construction of the role of a con-
cubine in these genealogies concerns Keturah.39 First, the precise choice of
wording closely links 1 Chron. 1.32 to 1 Chron. 1.28. The connoted mes-
sage conveyed to the readers is clear: Keturah, ‘Abraham’s concubine’,
takes, as it were, the structural role of Abraham, and her sons (i.e., the sons
of Abraham and her) are to be identified with her (see 1 Chron. 1.32-33).
To be sure she and ‘her’ descendents are still listed subsequently to those
of Abraham, but contrary to the case of Isaac and Ishmael who are pre-
sented as Abraham’s, theirs are constructed as hers. Significantly, neither
Sarah nor Hagar, for that matter, are mentioned in Chronicles. Of course,
one may think of a variety of reasons for the tendency to separate between
Abraham and children other than Isaac and Ishmael, but the fact remains
that the readers for whom the book of Chronicles was written cannot but
construe an image of a concubine who establishes an important lineage
that is clearly identified by her name, rather than by that of a famous
ancient male hero.40
3. Mother—Divorcee
One does not expect many references to divorcees in 1 Chronicles 1–9, but
if they are mentioned, how are they constructed? In addition, what would
their slot be in the genealogies if they bore children to the former hus-
band? The ancient readers are informed of two divorcees of the same man,
Shaharaim, in 1 Chron. 8.8-11. One of the two bore sons; by implication,
the readers are supposed to understand that the other did not.41 The man,
the readers are told, married a third, ‘new wife’ who was named, signifi-
cantly, Hodesh, Heb. ‫חדש‬. The text mentions the seven sons of this third
wife first and following the report about their names adds, ‘these were his
sons, heads of ancestral houses’ (v. 9; emphasis ours) that suggests that the
household of the man was directly continued through his sons by Hodesh.
Yet, in the next verse, the text mentions the names of the two sons whom
he begot by his divorcee, Husham, (most likely) before he divorced her. As
this lineage is set after that of the ‘new’ wife of the man, the divorcee seems
to hold the structural slot of the concubine.
It is worth stressing that although the list associated with Husham is
not as impressive in numbers as that associated with Hodesh, the text
explicitly states that it is the lineage by Husham that leads to a man who
is reported to have built Ono and Lod and their towns, a deed that is
understood within this discourse as an expression of divine blessing on the
one who performed it. In other words, although the status of the divorcee
was constructed as lower than that of the new, ‘current’ wife, her children
may still serve as potential leaders in Israel. One should mention also that
this account carries an additional level of meaning. Divorce here is associ-
ated with geographical (and ideological) borders. Shaharaim bore sons by
Hodesh in (the Field of) Moab, after he divorced his two earlier wives. At
least one of the two is explicitly associated with lands in which Benjamin
settled, through her descendents, and by association, they both are.42
4. Daughter-in-Law—Mother
There is one case of this situation, that of Tamar in 1 Chron. 2.4.43 The
story alluded here is that of Genesis 38.44 If the reference to Tamar evoked
in the readership the memory of that story, as it is likely, then the pro-
active and decisive role of Tamar in maintaining the (patrilineal) Judahite
lineage and eventually the Davidic one was also brought to their attention.
This is one particular version of a common motif that may be encapsulated
in ‘when the men fail to fulfill their duties then their wives take action and
save the day’ (cf. Judith). This version, however, addresses matters of
sexual and reproductive control. It is not surprising that even if Tamar’s
actions led to the continuation of the patriarchal lineage, later literature
attempted to ‘tame’ the character of Tamar.45
5. Identity as Daughter or Sister

Women may belong to, or be associated with, households as ‘daughters’
or as ‘sisters’. The ancient readers of 1 Chronicles 1–9 were told and were
asked to imagine women whose identity is explicitly associated with that
of their fathers (e.g., 1 Chron. 3.2.5; 4.18).46 It is worth stressing that these
women may also fulfill the roles of wife and mother, but their identities
remained tied also to that of their fathers. However, they are unable to
pass that portion of their identity to their sons, who belong to a different
household than the one from which they came. Yet in some cases, the
identity of their sons is construed by the text, at least in part, around
theirs too, in addition to that of their husbands.47 In this regard, because
of the obvious prominence of the people involved, the precise wording,
‫ואלה נולדו לו בירושלים שמעא ושובב ונתן ושלמה ארבעה לבת שוע בת עמיאל‬,
in 1 Chron. 3.5 is particularly noteworthy, for it seems to connote a paral-
lel structure linking David and Batshua (note the shared preposition ‫ ל‬in ‫לו‬
and ‫ ;לבת שוע‬and the at least connoted double ‫)נולדו‬.
The genealogies in 1 Chronicles 1–9 also included instances in which
daughters and sons were born.48 If these daughters/sisters were not asso-
ciated with progeny in the account, then the text might have suggested to
the readers that these women perhaps never married and remained a part
of the patriarchal house (e.g., 1 Chron. 1.39; 3.9) and that their situation
reflected social norms at the time, though the number of unmarried women
was probably very low in ancient Yehud. Yet caution is certainly war-
ranted. In some cases, the issue might be the prominence of the lineage of
the woman or of the woman herself (e.g., 1 Chron. 3.19). Moreover, women
similarly mentioned were explicitly associated with progeny. For instance,

and to illustrate the case, the intended and primary readers of the book
most likely thought that Achsah (1 Chron. 2.49) did marry, and moved
from the household of her father to that of her husband, to which she
made a substantial contribution (see Josh. 15.16-19; Judg. 1.12-15).
When the readers were asked to imagine cases in which daughters but
no sons were born, a number of related issues arose. A case has already
been studied above (1 Chron. 2.34-35) and there the daughter takes, as it
were, the structural role of the son, and her husband, that of a wife. The
reference to the daughters of Zelophehad in 1 Chron. 7.15 evoked the
memory of a similar case, though the solution reached there is somewhat,
although not altogether, different (cf. Num. 26.33; 27.1-7; 36.1-12; Josh.
17.3-6).49
As mentioned above, the genealogies include some references to daugh-
ters mentioned by name alongside their brothers.50 For instance, in 1 Chron.
2.49 the readers were told of Achsa (see also 1 Chron. 2.16-17; 3.9, 19; 4.3,
27; 7.30, 32). At times descendants are attributed to the mentioned daugh-
ter (1 Chron. 2.16-17; 4.27), but in other instances children are not men-
tioned. Although some of these women were prominent, or their names
were, this does not hold true of all of them.51 Their presence in the text is
related to their being part of a household (see above). To be sure, they are
mentioned after the brothers or sons, but still it is worth noting that they
were mentioned even if a (male) genealogy could have easily omitted them.
One reference to a sister raises a different set of issues. 1 Chronicles
7.17-18 mentions Hammolecheth, whose name, incidentally, conveys the
meaning of ‘she who reigns’52 and who is probably presented as the sister
of Machir (1 Chron. 7.17), though the text may be understood as constru-
ing her as the sister of Giled (1 Chron. 7.14).53 The intended readership of
Chronicles is told that she is not only a sister to an important character in
the Manassite list, but also the mother of three sons. There is no reference
to the father of these sons, and they and now her lineage are brought
together with that of her brother. In this case, the text asks the readers to
imagine a metaphorical,54 transgenerational household in which the sons
of a sister of the head of the family are included, rather than being associ-
ated with those of the husband of the sister. In other words, the sons of the
unnamed father followed for one generation a matrilineal instead of the
usual patrilineal line. May we infer that in this case, ‘being sister of X’ car-
ried more weight than ‘being a wife of X’?55
A somewhat similar case is that of Zeruiah, David’s sister (see above),
whose sons are associated with the lineage of Jesse (and the household of
David). For all purposes she fulfills the role of a (male) head of her section
of the family, to the point that her (anticipated) husband is not demoted to
a subordinate position (cf. 1 Chron. 2.34-35) but eliminated.
All in all, it is significant that there are instances in which sisters/daugh-
ters are mentioned alongside brothers/sons. As sisters are mentioned along-
side their brothers or fathers, the text seems to accentuate their position
within their particular families. Chronicles here seems to trespass the bor-
ders of a set of ideologically construed values according to which sisters
were not supposed to posses a specific, broad influence within a family,
nor were conceived as fulfilling an ideologically outstanding, permanent
role within the social structure of a family, as opposed to, for instance,
wife/mother of sons. The construction of these sisters is still somewhat
ambiguous, because on the one hand they are still bound to a social
structure that was considered as valid and authoritative, but on the other
hand, the text seems to suggest to their intended (male) readership that
they, at times, stepped beyond the boundaries of their expected roles, and
blessing followed. As is typical of Chronicles, theological or ideological
claims advanced in some, or even many accounts are informed and bal-
anced by contrasting claims advanced elsewhere in the book.56
2. Women in Roles Commonly Assigned

to Mature Males in the Society
1 Chronicles 1–9 presents some women in roles that were commonly as-
signed to mature males in the society. When Chronicles tells its (intended
and primary) readers of women who fulfilled the role of maintaining the
(male) lineage, it asks them to imagine them as taking the role regularly
assigned to the (male) head of a family. When Chronicles tells these
readers of women who built cities, again it asks them to image these women
as taking upon themselves roles unequivocally associated with males. Sig-
nificantly, none of these cases of ‘transgression’ are condemned; quite the
opposite, they are associated with blessing. On the one hand, Chronicles
certainly reflects and reinforces traditional gender roles in society, but on
the other at times it subverts their claim to categorical, non-contingent
validity. As mentioned above, it is possible that these ‘subversions’ reflected
the actual situation of at least some women in Persian period Yehud.57
1. Women as Heads of the Family

To begin with, the role of ‘head’ of the family most likely implied activity in
the so-called ‘public’ sphere represented by men acting publicly in society.
In 1 Chron. 2.16-17 Zeruiah and Abigail are presented as mothers main-

taining lineage and fulfilling functions of heads of a family. In sociological
terms, the role of maintaining lineage implies several duties. One impor-
tant implication is that the woman/matriarch has to lead the family,
represent it in public, manage its properties and the goods it produces,
participate in trades as required and the like. In addition, heads of family
participated in local, ‘political’ life of their community. Ordinarily, it was
men who fulfilled all these roles. When Chronicles asks its readers to
imagine women as heads of a family, does it imply that these women
stepped fully in this particular male world? It might be debated if the
readers were asked to imagine these women as representing the family in
official tasks, like those associated with ‘the elders’, ‘the heads of the ances-
tral families’, or ‘all Israel’.58 It might also be debatable whether women
served in these positions, even if only occasionally, in Yehud or not. But, it
is most likely that these readers were asked to imagine and did imagine
these women as taking care of the economic life of the household, with all
its implications concerning the management of property, ability to trade
goods and the like, as well as the person holding the decisive authority
within the household on internal matters.
Are there clues in the genealogies that suggest that the readers of
Chronicles were asked also to imagine a world in which women could
have, even if rarely, fulfilled clearly communal leadership roles and be
assigned the prestige associated with these (male) roles?
2. Women Building Cities

Within the world of the Hebrew Bible, men build cities (e.g., Gen. 4.17;
Josh. 19.50; Judg. 1.26). Nowhere in the Hebrew Bible, except for 1 Chron.
7.24, is any woman referred to as a city builder. Against this background,
the atypical character of the explicit report about a woman who built cities
in 1 Chron. 7.24 is self-evident. In addition, it certainly bears note that the
theme of building cities is in itself very uncommon in 1 Chronicles 1–9.
In fact, there is only this reference to a woman who built three cities
(one incidentally, carrying her own name; 1 Chron. 7.24), and that about a
man who built two cities in 1 Chron. 8.12. Incidentally, this man is a
grandson of the divorced woman mentioned in 1 Chron. 8.8, 11 (see above).
Further, the case of Sheerah is presented as even more remarkable, because
she is not the only child of the head of the household. Her father has a son,
and perhaps more than one (see below), but she is the builder.
Clearly, Sheerah’s actions are evaluated in a very positive way. Building
activities within Israel reflect divine blessing within the ideology of the
book of Chronicles59 and accordingly, the readers of the book are asked to
understand Sheerah’s actions as both a blessing and a reflection of a divine
blessing. Further, the text plays on the contrast between the association of
blessing with Sheerah (i.e., the daughter) and of disaster with her brother,
‫‘( בריעה‬Beriah’; see 1 Chron. 7.23), who is ‘the son’ of the father. The
readers were also told that Sheerah’s name, and her prestige remained in
the community, as one of her cities carried it (Uzzen-sheerah).
Is Sheerah described as having a progeny of her own? Or is her ‘name’
maintained only by the city that carries her name and the memory (‫ )זכר‬of
her actions (cf. Sir. 40.19)?60 The latter seems to be the case. The male
genealogical list in 1 Chron. 7.25-27 that leads directly to none but Joshua
the son of Nun begins with ‫‘( רפה‬Rephah’) who is either the son of Beriah
(Sheerah’s brother) or of Ephraim (Sheerah’s father). If the latter is the
case, then the slot associated with Sheerah in the list of children of
Ephraim is highly irregular and would call attention to itself and to her
role as city builder. Yet it all hinges on the question of the identity of the
referent of the 3rd masc. suffix in ‫( ורפח בנו‬v. 25) and it is probably more
likely that it goes back to Beriah.61
To be sure, there is no reason to assume that the report about Sheerah
is a faithful memory of actual events in which she was involved.62 At the
same time, it is worth considering whether the fact that a text maintaining
that a woman may occasionally, but successfully fulfill even such a role
was composed within and for the literati of the Persian period addresses
ideological concerns that have no bearing whatsoever upon the actual
conditions of the society in which the literati lived. In addition to the
considerations advanced above, one may note that at that time one finds
some seals bearing the names of women. Although rare, if such seals were
actually used by the mentioned women – and there is no substantial
reason to assume that they were not – then they show that some elite
women owned property, were involved in trade and financial affairs, and
controlled goods owned by or produced by their household.63 In addition,
if the situation in Elephantine is of any relevance to that of Yehud, then
one is to assume that some, or at least a few women may have fulfilled
these roles there.64
3. Conclusions
A full study of the characterization of women in Chronicles should take
into account the entire book. Moreover, the ancient readers did not
approach the genealogies in 1 Chronicles 1–9 in a manner that was unin-
formed by the rest of the book. On the contrary, they read it as an integral
part of the book of Chronicles. Yet the preceding discussion clearly leads
to some conclusions.
The genealogies shape and reflect an ideal and simplified construction
of the past. It is a construction based on continuity grounded on lineages
that were made possible through a sequence of birthings. The genealogies
do not provide support for many negative characterizations of women in
male discourses of the time and somewhat later periods. Women are not
mentioned as whores, temptresses, impurity carriers, as leading men to the
worship of other gods, nor are they constructed as essentially ‘passive’.65
Genealogies created an ideological world in which women cannot be dis-
missed, and in which they can become very active.
To be sure, they also describe women in ways that maintain and rein-
force the traditional female roles within the (patriarchal) family and associ-
ate them with divine blessing (i.e., progeny). Yet the same genealogies also
provided its (male) readers with a substantial number of instances in which
women took upon roles traditionally carried out by males. Moreover, these
actions were viewed so favorable that there were associated with divine
blessing. In sum, on the one hand, as expected, the genealogies reflected,
carried and reinforced the main construction of family and family roles in
a traditional ancient Near Eastern society, but on the other hand, it taught
its intended and primary readers again and again that gender (and ethnic)
boundaries could, were, and by inference can and should be transgressed
by the Yehudite community on occasion, with divine blessing, and result-
ing in divine blessing.66
It is possible that this openness is related somewhat with the ‘frontier’
or ‘pioneer’ conditions in Yehud.67 To be sure, the social structure of
Yehud rested on families as the smallest social unit.68 Given that social
framework, the tendency towards group identification in ancient Israel
(and most agrarian societies), and the general ideology of Chronicles, it is
understandable that Chronicles would emphasize and approve the con-
tribution of women for the enduring life of the family household, as well as
for the Israelite society in general which is conceived in terms of a larger
encompassing household – one which, to be sure, is constructed as having
a particular relation with the deity, and a particular set of books and tra-
ditions that are grounded in such claimed relations.
The latter consideration leads to the question of the people of foreign
origin or ‘foreigners’ who are included in the ideal portrait of ‘all Israel’ in
the genealogies in Chronicles. It is possible that such openness is related
to the realia of the Persian period, in which provinces are linked with one
another through administrative and economical traits. Under these condi-
tions questions of self-identity and the shaping of borders for inclusion
and exclusion are likely to arise. One option is to keep that openness and
set Yehud apart from other provinces by theological or ideological claims
about its relation with YHWH (see above). Within that frame outsiders
may become Israelites and may join the genealogies of Israel (the encom-
passing household) if they are Israelitized.69
Endnotes
* This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution that was first pub-
lished as Antje Labahn and Ehud Ben Zvi, ‘Observations on Women in the Genealo-
gies of 1 Chronicles 1-9’, Bib 84 (2003), pp. 457-78. I wish to express my gratitude to
A. Labahn and Biblica for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume.
1. In other words, this article concerns itself only with matters of ancient Israelite
history.
2. It should be stressed that we are not advancing here the relatively common, but
now more and more, and correctly under attack clear-cut dichotomy between ‘domes-
tic’ and ‘public’ roles. Yet, even if one assumes that one of the basic metaphors that
underlies the social imagination of ancient Israel (and most societies) in the ancient
Near East was that of a ‘patrimonial household’, there were clear, gender-related social
expectations. On the patrimonial household as the basic metaphor, see J.D. Schloen,
The House of the Father as Fact and Symbol in Ugarit and the Ancient Near East
(Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2001).
3. See Chapter 2.
4. This is consistent with the general tendency in Chronicles to qualify the validity
of most of the lessons that the readership could have learned from individual accounts
by setting them ‘in proportion’ by lessons communicated elsewhere. See especially
Chapters 2 and 8.
5. Cf. T.C. Eskenazi, ‘Out from the Shadows: Biblical Women in the Postexilic Era’,
JSOT 54 (1992), pp. 25-43.
6. Of course, within the social discourse of the period, this role was directly
associated with that of wife of a husband. Although, for obvious reasons, this article
touches on both the construction (or constructions) of the family in ancient Israel and
the actual life of families at that time, it is not a study of families or ‘the family’ in
ancient Israel.
7. ‘Unattached’ women are not described as mothers of children who continue the
family lineage in the ideological world of the genealogies. To be sure, this does not
mean that no unattached women ever became pregnant and bore children in ancient
Israel, nor that their children never found their way into society. The role of gene-
alogies, however, is not to faithfully describe the social reality, but to construe an ideal
world.
8. It is worth noting that the name Abijah (‫ )אביה‬occurs as a female name only in
the book of Chronicles (1 Chron. 2.24 and 2 Chron. 29.1), elsewhere in the Hebrew
Bible, and often in Chronicles itself, it appears as a male name (1 Sam. 5.2; 1 Chron.
3.10; 2 Chron. 11.20; Neh. 12.17). The Chronicler reinterprets the name of the mother
of Hezekiah in 2 Kgs 18.2, namely ‫אבי‬, as a shortened form of ‫( אביה‬cf. 2 Kgs 18.2 with
2 Chron. 29.1). King ‫ אביה‬of Chronicles is, of course, King ‫ אבים‬of Kings.
9. For instance, in 1 Chron. 4.5-7 two wives of Ashhur, the father of Tekoa, are
mentioned as mothers with their sons, Naarah gave birth to four sons while Helah had
three; in 1 Chron. 2.29 Abihail is mentioned – she has two children; in 1 Chron. 7.16
Maacah is mentioned as the wife of Machir and as a mother.
10. The larger issues associated with the characterization of individuals as nameless
stands well beyond the scope of this contribution. It may be said, however, that the
present study shows that namelessness does not mean total erasure. In fact, the ten-
dency in the genealogies discussed here is to endow nameless characters with some
identifying markers and, at times, with a bit of personal history, which is, in one way or
another, intertwined somewhat with the social history of Israel and its lineages.
11. Effacing and particularly self-effacing were important and positive attributes
within the discourses of the (male) literati in the Achaemenid period within whom and
for whom the book of Chronicles was written. On self-effacing see E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is
New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism
after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van
Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-48.
12. According to 1 Chron. 3.1-3 David had six sons in Hebron from six different
mothers. There is not much information about any of them, but the least is said about
the last three, Haggith, Abital, and Eglah.
13. For fathers giving names to children in the genealogies of Chronicles, see
1 Chron. 7.23, mentioned above. It is worth stressing that explicit references to fathers
naming their children in Chronicles are rare.
14. For a recent treatment of the Jabez’s pericope in Chronicles and for some
relevant bibliography see R. Christopher Heard, ‘Echoes of Genesis in 1 Chronicles 4.9-
10: An Intertextual and Contextual Reading of Jabez’s Prayer’, JHS 4.2 (2002), article 2.
15. See S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 114-15; W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. I.
1 Chronicles 1–2 Chronicles 9. Israel’s Place among the Nations (JSOTSup, 253;
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 62-63.
16. It goes without saying that the chances that an actual daughter of Pharaoh mar-
ried a ‘nobody’ from Judah are nil. The text under discussion, however, does not deal
with issues of critical history, but with matters associated with the construction of a
social (and ideological) self in the Persian period.
17. For processes leading to the Israelitization of the ‘other’ see also Chapter 13.
18. It is possible that the prominence of the name ‘Miriam’ contributed to the choice
of a person carrying that name for the first slot in the list.
19. The same information is communicated by Gen. 36.39. Some of the texts from
1 Chronicles 1–9 that will be discussed here have parallels elsewhere in the Hebrew
Bible, and some do not. This article is not meant to reconstruct the compositional
activities of the authorship, but the message that the book communicated to its ancient
readership regarding the matters under discussion. This being so, the distinction
between ‘parallel’ and ‘non-parallel’ texts in Chronicles is immaterial for the present
endeavor.
20. Although the Syriac and the Arabian translation change the second bat into br
while reading the preceding name as a male name the Hebrew transmission of the text
itself is clear in this point.
21. See 1 Sam. 26.6; 2 Sam. 2.13.18; 3.39; 8.16; 16.9; 18.2; 19.22, 23; 21.17; 23.18;
1 Kgs 1.7; 2.5, 22; 1 Chron. 11.6, 39; 18.12, 15; 26.28; 27.24. In 2 Sam. 17.25 it is Zeruiah
who is identified as Joab’s mother.
22. Cf. 1 Chron. 1.50; 2.29; 8.29; 9.35; cf. also Gen. 36.39; Num. 26.58-59.
23. He is explicitly characterized as an Ishmaelite in 1 Chron. 2.17; but as an Israelite
in 2 Sam. 17.25.
24. Cf. G.N. Knoppers, ‘Intermarriage, Social Complexity and Ethnic Diversity in
the Genealogy of Judah’, JBL 120 (2001), pp. 15-30. Also cf. T. Willi, Juda–Jehud–Israel:
Studien zum Selbstverständnis des Judentums in persischer Zeit (FAT, 12; Tübingen:
J.C.B. Mohr, 1995), pp. 141-42.
25. See 1 Chron. 2.15-17. In 2 Sam. 17.25 the two are characterized as daughters of
Nahash. Efforts to harmonize both accounts while maintaining that Zeruiah and
Abigail were daughters of Jesse and sisters of David are evident in b. Shab 55b; b. BB
17a.
26. Likewise one might consider that the reference to Matred in 1 Chron. 1.50 is
due to the high status of Me-zahab. Although this is possible, there is no evidence
supporting this conjecture. The name appears only here and in the parallel text in Gen.
36.39 and nothing is said about this character beyond his/her being a parent of Matred.
27. Cf. the case of the Barzillai house in Ezra 2.61.
28. It is worth noting that the language of the text follows a basic formula, X-
‫ ויתן את בתו ל‬in which X stands for a male, and which is attested elsewhere, with a
number of variants. See Gen. 29.28; 41.45; Exod. 2.21; Josh. 15.17; Judg. 1.13 and, of
course, 1 Chron. 2.35. Significantly, the daughter’s name appears in all these in-
stances, except 1 Chron. 2.35. The daughter’s role here is not to link two families – as
in the other cases – but to allow the continuation of the house of the father.
A study of the defamiliarization of the formula in Gen. 29.29, and its potential
implications for constructions of gender as expressions of hierarchy (cf. D. Seeman,
‘ “Where Is Sarah your Wife?” Cultural Poetics of Gender and Nationhood in the
Hebrew Bible’, HTR 91 [1998]), pp. 103-25, stands beyond the scope of this paper.
29. Cf. with some similar cases in Nuzi, see K. Grosz, ‘Some Aspects of the Position
of Women in Nuzi’, in B. Lesko (ed.), Women’s Earliest Records: From Ancient Egypt
and Western Asia (BJS, 166; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), pp. 167-80, esp. 173-77. For
other discussions of the relevant passage, see S. Japhet, ‘The Israelite Legal and Social
Reality as Reflected in Chronicles: A Case Study’, in M. Fishbane and E. Tov (eds.),
‘Sha’arei Talmon’: Studies in the Bible, Qumran, and the Ancient Near East Presented
to Shemaryahu Talmon (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1992), pp. 79-91, and G.N.
Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9 (AB, 12; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2004), p. 310.
30. Of course, ‘successfully’ refers to the evaluation of the situation from the per-
spective of the implied author of the book of Chronicles/genealogies and of the
intended readership. ‘Success’ from this perspective was tantamount to maintaining
the father’s lineage and household, and in a larger scheme, that of the entire house of
Israel. Chronicles and its intended and primary readership saw continuity from gen-
eration to generation as an expression of divine blessing. This is a quite common
approach in group-based societies. From the viewpoint of those who identify with these
perspectives, the marriage reported in the book was successful and blessed.
31. See, e.g., the references to Bathshua, the Canaanitess (1 Chron. 2.3), and Ahi-
noam the Jezreelitess and Abigail the Carmelitess (1 Chron. 3.1). Maacah is introduced
as daughter of Talmai, the king of Geshur (1 Chron. 3.2). Bithiah is not only Egyptian,
but also the daughter of Pharaoh (see above), and notice also the contrastive reference
to the Judean woman (1 Chron. 4.18).
32. See examples above. See also Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9, p. 310 and Japhet,
‘Israelite Legal and Social Reality, esp. pp. 90-91.
33. Since progeny follows, there is an implicit indication that YHWH blessed the
union. See above.
34. Cf. E. Ben Zvi, ‘The Urban Center of Jerusalem and the Development of the
Literature of the Hebrew Bible’, in W.G. Aufrecht, N.A. Mirau, and S.W. Gauley (eds.),
Aspects of Urbanism in Antiquity: From Mesopotamia to Crete (JSOTSup, 244;
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 194-209; idem, ‘Introduction: Writings,
Speeches, and the Prophetic Books – Setting an Agenda’, in E. Ben Zvi and M.H. Floyd
(eds.), Writings and Speech in Israelite and Ancient Near Eastern Prophecy (SBLSymS,
10; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000), pp. 1-29, esp. 13-16; idem, ‘What is
New in Yehud?; A. Labahn, ‘Antitheocratic Tendencies in Chronicles’, in R. Albertz
and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the
Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 115-35.
35. It is debatable whether the Hebrew term ‫ פילגש‬is to be interpreted as indicating
an insecure, legal status for the concubine and, thereafter, for her children. The social
structure of the higher social strata of ancient Israel was based on polygamy, rather
than monogamy. A ‫ פילגש‬was not regarded as an illegal whore of the pater familias,
but rather obtained a role akin to, though lower than that of an additional ‘wife’. The
concubine herself as well as her children belonged to the household of the entire family
and stood under protection of the pater familias. The woman, and consequently her
children, obtained a legal status in Israelite society granting a place within family struc-
tures. However, the children of the concubine were not given the rights of full heritage.
K. Engelken suggests that concubines lived in a somewhat insecure legal sphere, since
their status is not granted by any Hebrew Bible law. See K. Engelken, Frauen im alten
Israel: Eine begriffsgeschichtliche und sozialrechtliche Studie zur Stellung der Frau im
Alten Testament (BWANT, 130; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1990), pp. 74-126.
36. See 1 Chron. 3.9.
37. For comparisons of the ratio of named to unnamed concubines, see the statistics
in Engelken, Frauen im alten Israel, pp. 119-22.
38. 1 Chron. 2.47 may indicate the family origin of Ephah, but see also Japhet, I and
II Chronicles, pp. 86-87.
39. It is worth noting that Chronicles departs from the tradition in Gen. 25.1 in rela-
tion to the status of Keturah. According to Genesis, she is Abraham’s wife, according to
Chronicles, his concubine.
40. It is possible to understand the text in 1 Chron. 2.18 as implicitly suggesting a
construction of Jerioth as a concubine/mother. The text and its immediate textual
context are difficult and in any case, unlike the other instances, Jerioth is not (explic-
itly) called a concubine.
41. Although one may expect that in (male) lineages women who bore no chil-
dren will be omitted, there are several examples of women who are mentioned in
1 Chronicles 1–9 and who are not associated with any children (e.g., 1 Chron. 3.9; see
also below). The genealogies of Chronicles often attempt to advance a representation
of (patriarchal) households. Women may participate in a household without bearing
children.
42. See Neh. 11.31-35. It bears notice that children of a divorced mother could be
sent with her (see 1 Esd. 9.36, which probably represents an understanding of Ezra
10.44; on the latter, see H.G.M. Williamson, Ezra–Nehemiah (WBC, 16; Waco, TX:
Word Books, 1985), pp. 144-45, 159; cf. J. Blenkinsopp, Ezra–Nehemiah (OTL;
Philadephia: Westminster Press, 1988), pp. 197, 200-201). Cf. Codex Hammurabi 137.
One may note also that the metaphor underlying Hosea 1–3 shows that children may
share the fate of their mother in a case of marital breakdown. On this matter, see also
J.J. Collins, ‘Marriage, Divorce, and Family in Second Temple Judaism’, in L.G. Perdue,
et al. (eds.), Families in Ancient Israel (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press,
1997), pp. 104-63, esp. 116 and note also the cautionary tone of J. Blenkinsopp, ‘The
Family in First Temple Israel’, in Perdue, et al. (eds.), Families in Ancient Israel, pp. 48-
103, esp. 65-66.
43. It is true that the identity of the person alluded to by the third person masc.
suffix in ‫ כלתו‬is theoretically unclear if the verse is read only from the perspective of
v. 3. The text of v. 4, however, clarifies that point. The father-in-law is Judah.
44. There are numerous studies on the story of Tamar in Genesis 38. See, e.g.,
J.W.H. van Wijk-Bos, ‘Out of the Shadows; Genesis 38; Judges 4:17-22; Ruth 3’,
Semeia 42 (1988), pp. 37-67; E. Van Wolde, ‘Texts in Dialogue with Texts: Intertextu-
ality in the Ruth and Tamar Narratives’, BibInt 5 (1997), pp. 1-25.
45. See D.C. Polaski, ‘On Taming Tamar: Amram’s Rhetoric and Women’s Roles in
Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum 9’, JSP 13 (1995), pp. 79-99.
46. 1 Chron. 3.2 mentions Maacah, the daughter of Talmai, king of Geshur; in
1 Chron.3.5 Bathshua is introduced as the daughter of Ammiel, who is only known in
Chronicles.
47. See 1 Chron. 4.18. There are numerous cases in which the construction of a
male lineage is associated not only with that of the ‘original’ father but also with the
‘original’ mother, see 1 Chron. 4.19. When the father has children from several wives,
then his sons are characterized and identified according to their mothers too (e.g.,
1 Chron. 3.2).
48. See, e.g., 1 Chron. 3.9 and the 6 daughters in 1 Chron. 4.27 alongside 16 brothers.
In these instances, sons are mentioned first, daughters, second. For a likely exception
to this order, see 4.17 and see above.
49. Cf. also 1 Chron. 23.22.
50. There are also instances in which the identity of the woman is associated with
her being a sister of a male, rather than with her being the daughter of another. See
1 Chron. 4.19.
51. See, for instance 1 Chron. 3.9 (Tamar); 3.19 (Shelomith); 4.3 (Hazzelelponi); 7.30
(Serah); 7.32 (Shua).
52. ‘The (female) governor’?
53. See Radak, Ralbag, and among contemporary scholars, Japhet, I and II Chroni-
cles, p. 175.
54. Speaking of metaphorical and metaphors we use the term here in a rather broad
sense and do not intend to take the term as hinting at literary phenomena indicating
multiple senses evoked by reception.
55. It has been noted that compared to similar reports, the one on the genealogy of
Manasseh in Chronicles contains proportionally more explicit references to, and
involvement of women – even if the vast majority of the characters in the report are
male. Scholars have reached different conclusions concerning the significance of the
mentioned fact. For instance, W. Johnstone writes: ‘A striking feature of the presenta-
tion of Manasseh is the prominent role played by women throughout. Given the
patriarchal nature of the overall presentation of the tribes – the stress on the heroic
heads of the household and their leadership of their numerous clansmen in war…which
is conspicuously lacking in this section…this emphasis can hardly be interpreted
other than as further indication of weakness and vulnerability in this area’ (1 and 2
Chronicles, I, p. 106). In other ways, he suggests that gender characterizations and
differentiations serve to communicate a hierarchy of (male) heroic power, and military
strength (cf. Judith).
56. See Chapters 2 and 8 in this volume.
57. See Eskenazi, ‘Out from the Shadows’. For a socioeconomic study of the status
of some women in Jerusalem during the Persian period, see C.R. Yoder, Wisdom as a
Woman of Substance: A Socioeconomic Reading of Proverbs 1–9 and 31:10-31 (BZAW,
304; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2001).
58. Yet, leaving aside general matters concerning the classification of particular roles
as typical, male, and public in these discourses, the fact remains that there are not
many explicit references to ‘comparable’ males fulfilling these roles in the genealogies –
references to kings and rulers should not be taken into account for these purposes.
Since there are many times more males than females in the genealogies, the statistical
probability of finding a reference to a female character fulfilling these roles is quite
minimal. See also section 2.2.
59. Cf., among many others, J. Weinberg, Der Chronist in seiner Mitwelt (BZAW,
239; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), p. 226.
60. That is, ‘children and the building of a city establish one’s name’. The impor-
tance of leaving a name is emphasized in Sirach (see, e.g., Sir. 44.8).
61. One cannot completely dismiss the possibility that the masc. suffix here points
to feminine referent, in this case Sheerah. See 1 Chron. 23.22.
62. Even the association of the name of one of the cities with her name raises
questions in this regard.
63. J.J. Stamm, favors a social influence of women for Elephantine and the Persian
period. See J.J. Stamm ‘Hebräische Frauennamen’, in B. Hartmann, et al. (eds.),
Hebräische Wortforschung: Festschrift zum 80. Geburtstag von Walter Baumgarten
(VTSup, 16; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1967), pp. 301-39, esp. 308-10. See also A. Kiesow, Löwin-
nen von Juda: Frauen als Subjekte politischer Macht in der judäischen Königszeit
(Theologische Frauenforschung in Europa, 4; Münster: Lit, 2000), pp. 51-63. The
evidence of seals might be helpful too. See the ‘famous’ case of ‫שלמית אמת אלנתן פחוא‬
and of her seal. On these matters, see N. Avigad, Corpus of West Semitic Stamp Seals
(Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities/Israel Exploration Society/
Institute of Archaeology, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1997), pp. 31, 33; E.M.
Meyers, ‘The Shelomith Seal and the Judean Restoration: Some Additional Considera-
tions’, EI 18 (1985), pp. 33*-38*. Yet one is to take into account that the percentage of
women among seal owners is extremely low. For instance, it stands at 2% in Avigad,
Corpus of West Semitic Stamp Seals and may grow up to 3% if all the names of
uncertain gender are taken to be of women.
64. See the case of Miptahiah. See for instance, Cowley 13 = TAD B 2.7 (and B 29 in
B. Porten, The Elephantine Papyri in English: Three Millennia of Cross-Cultural
Continuity and Change (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1996). One may notice also a wife may own
and sell property along with her husband (i.e., they are presented as co-owners), in
other words she does not have to be widow to own property. See, e.g., Kraeling 3 =
TAD B 3.4 (Porten, Elephantine Papyri in English, B 37); Kraeling 12 = TAD B3.12
(Porten, Elephantine Papyri in English, B 45).
65. Of course, the genealogies are not alone in that regard, cf. Judith, Pseudo-Philo.
66. Of course, this ‘divine blessing’ is understood within the ideological frame of a
patriarchal society. The book of Chronicles neither was nor could have been a ‘feminist’
book. It was written within a patriarchal society for a patriarchal society. There is no
doubt that within the world of the book and in ancient Yehud the twin institutions of
kinship and inheritance were constructed as patrilineal.
67. See Eskenazi, ‘Out from the Shadows’. Eskenazi (pp. 32-33) notes that many of
the substantive claims advanced by C. Meyers about the role of women and family roles
in Early Israel may apply to the Persian period. For C. Meyers’ positions, see C. Meyers,
Discovering Eve (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), and idem, ‘The Family in
Early Israel’, in Perdue, et al. (eds.), Families in Ancient Israel, pp. 1-47.
68. Cf. J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998),
p. 188; C. Karrer, Ringen um die Verfassung Judas: Eine Studie zu den theologisch-
politischen Vorstellungen im Esra-Nehemia-Buch (BZAW, 308; Berlin/New York:
W. de Gruyter, 2001), pp. 88-90.
69. See the paradigmatic case of Bithiah in 1 Chron. 4.17-18 discussed above.
Chapter 10
IDEOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTIONS OF NON-YEHUDITE/

PERIPHERAL ISRAEL IN ACHAEMENID YEHUD:
THE CASE OF THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES
1. Introductory Considerations
This examination of a key ideological theme in ancient Yehud, at least
among the literati who produced and for whom much of the literature that
eventually became included in the Hebrew Bible elite was produced, con-
tributes to the study of the history of common worldviews held among the
ideological elite of Yehud, and as such to the history of Yehud.1
Certainly, the literati of Achaemenid period Jerusalem2 were well aware
that not all ‘Israel’3 (hereafter, Israel) lived in Yehud. How did they explain
this obvious fact of their lives in acceptable ideological terms? What kind
of conceptual, discursive maps emerged out of the acknowledgment of
a reality in which there was Yehudite and non-Yehudite Israel? Although I
will focus here on the light that the book of Chronicles sheds on these
questions, some crucial, general observations about the ideological milieu
of Achaemenid Yehud are in order.
The fact that Israel existed in Yehud and outside its borders led by
necessity to ideological constructions in Jerusalem of (a) a self-perceived
center, namely Yehud along with the central attributes associated uniquely
with it such as Jerusalem, Zion, Jerusalemite temple, and sociologically, the
Jerusalemite literati themselves, and (b) non-Yehud, that is, by definition a
periphery devoid of such ideological attributes and institutions. Moreover,
since the discourse/s of the Yehudite literati included, at its core, a deeply
embedded image and main meta-narrative of ‘exile and return’,4 the pair of
center and periphery often, but not necessarily fully overlapped that of
center/diaspora or exile.5 To be sure, the center, Yehud, was most often
associated with the (only legitimate) temple and the true divine instruction
coming from this temple, which was directly or indirectly based on texts
held authoritative by the Jerusalemite elite. Although sets of hopes for a
future reduction or even cancellation of the polarity center/periphery
certainly existed within the ideological discourses of Yehud’s literati, as

demonstrated abundantly in prophetic literature, these hopes did not and
could not amount to a full discursive response. The worldview of the
Jerusalemite literati in the Persian period had to include not only hopes for
a future, but an ideologically cogent response to their present situation.
Since within the discourses of Yehudite literati, YHWH’s instructions
to Israel – and the latter’s obligations to YHWH – were in the main not
dependent on the borders of any polities, including those of Yehud, their
sets of accepted discourses demanded that some norms be (at least, from
an ideological viewpoint) applicable to anyone they considered to be Israel,
whether they lived in Yehud or not. As a result, to some extent or on the
surface these discourses lead to a partial erasement of the divide between
Yehudite and non-Yehudite Israel. But at the same time, given that within
the same discourses true instruction is that advanced by the Jerusalemite
center and its elite, then members of the latter must unequivocally imagine
themselves as those who know how Yahwistic groups ought to behave
outside Yehud. Even if in overall historical terms the Jerusalemite elite of
the Persian period was not able to impose its own norms and its own
interpretations of its authoritative books on non-Yehudite Yahwistic
groups (e.g., those living in Samaria, Elephantine, other areas in Egypt,
Babylonia, Asia Minor, etc.), and even it is doubtful that they seriously
intended to do so in any consistent and systematic way, none of the above
preempts the development of discursive ideological constructions that
advance or imply such policy. In fact, both these constructions and their
perceived and factual impracticality in the ‘real’ world contributed to the
shaping of the intellectual milieu of the Jerusalemite literati of the time.6
As mentioned above, of all the possible constructions of non-Yehudite
Israel and its relation to Yehudite Israel within the discourses of Achaem-
enid Yehud, I plan to deal here with those shaped in, reflected by, and
communicated to the intended readers by one book, namely the book of
Chronicles.7 On the surface, this choice may be seen as a somewhat odd,
since the book does not allocate much narrative space to Israel’s life out-
side the borders of Judah/Yehud.8 A number of reasons, however, point to
the particular suitability of the book for this type of analysis. First, although
the book of Chronicles conveys images of a future that bear hope to its
readers, its seemingly ‘down-to-earth’ approach when compared to pro-
phetic literature makes it more amenable for this study. Second, positions
communicated in Chronicles may reveal more of the agreed worldview
shared by the Jerusalemite literati at large since matters tend to appear in
rather incidental ways in the accounts rather than as their main literary or
10. Ideological Constructions 197
ideological thrust. Third, contrary to the usual tendency in the book

towards communicating a balanced, multi-perspectival position on most
matters through diverse accounts each pointing at different and seemingly
contradictory positions,9 on the issues relevant to this discussion Chroni-
cles shows a relative unified viewpoint. To be sure, given its genre and
scope, this book can only construct directly circumstances claimed to
obtain in the past of the community of readers for which the book of
Chronicles was written, not in their present. But its accounts, of course,
project and legitimize ideological images of the ideal relationship between
Yehudites and other Israelites living outside Yehud and as such shed much
light on the questions raised above.
2. Analysis of the Accounts

To begin with, the account in 2 Chron. 10.1–11.17 deals with the seces-
sion of the northern kingdom. This is a complex account that conveys a
number of meanings.10 A few of the latter are directly relevant to the pre-
sent discussion, provided that one assumes that the intended and primary
(re)readerships of the book associated, to some extent or in some of their
rereadings of the material, monarchic Judah with Persian Yehud, and
(monarchic) northern Israel with Persian period Samaria. This assumption,
however, is reasonable and, to a large extent, a boilerplate.
This being so, the situation projected by the account reflects the posi-
tion that the people of northern Israel/Samaria are Israel, and not only that
their polity was/is separate from Judah/Yehud, but also that they should
remain separate for any foreseen future, because it is YHWH’s (inscruta-
ble) will. In other words, Yehud should not attempt to conquer or incor-
porate the north or any portion thereof, even though such actions would
be possible.11
In addition, Chronicles maintains that despite the fact that the north-
erners are Israel (= Yahwistic) and so in all likelihood is its main leader-
ship, the Yehudite leadership should not attempt to build any alliances
with it. On the contrary, they should refuse to do so,12 unless, of course,
the latter follows and accepts the exclusive role of the Jerusalemite temple
and the literature that reflects and supports it.
Moreover, since the northerners are Israel and since this fact carries
within the discourse of Yehud certain expectations regarding behavior and
belief, Chronicles suggests that only if the northerners lived in a polity that
did not require them to contradict the basic tenets of the Jerusalemite
ideology/theology, including but certainly not restricted to matters of
temple ritual (see below), then they may remain in their own towns (see
2 Chron. 31.1).13 If this not the case, just as during the time of the seces-
sion – as the latter is constructed in Chronicles – and for all the independ-
ent existence of the northern kingdom as such (and the province of
Samaria?), pious Israelites must move to Yehud and fortify it (cf. 2 Chron.
13.11-17).14 In other words, if residing outside Yehud means that they do
not or cannot behave as Israel ought to, that is, follow YHWH’s precepts
and instructions as understood by the Jerusalemite elite represented by the
authorship and intended and primary readerships of Chronicles, then their
presence outside Yehud is ideologically equivalent to forsaking YHWH,
and accordingly to be liable to divine punishment (cf. 2 Chron. 30.6-9).
Of course, within the worldview communicated by Chronicles, pious
authorities in Judah – and through ideological projection, those in Yehud
– also have a role to play in relation to the northerners. For instance, if
pious Judahite kings such as Hezekiah and Josiah try to lead non-Judahite/
Yehudite Israel to the ‘proper path’, through speech or through forceful
actions (see 2 Chron. 34.6-7) when the latter are possible (see qere in v. 6),
then their actions are presented as commendable. Two examples suffice:
(a) Abijah’s speech in 2 Chron. 13.4-12 and (b) the report about the trans-
formation, or better, Jerusalemite socialization of the northerners described
in the accounts of Hezekiah in 2 Chron. 30.1–31.1. It is worth stressing,
however, that this ideological Jerusalemization, and from the perspective
of the book, proper socialization of the northerners as Israel is not pre-
sented in terms of abandonment of their places of residence. They con-
tinue to live outside Judah. In fact, Chronicles explicitly states that they
return from Jerusalem to their cities outside Judah, even if their ideological
focus and behavior is portrayed as Judahite like, and as explicitly stated at
the conclusion of the report concerning Hezekiah’s actions in 2 Chron.
31.1b.
Further, even if these northerners appear to be successfully Israelitized
in the accounts of Hezekiah and Josiah, they tend to disappear quickly
from the main Judahite/Israelite narrative. Not only are the intended and
primary rereaders left wondering whether they actually continued to
behave as pious Israel after the described and seemingly uncommon
events initiated by the Jerusalemite leadership, but they do not partake in
any way in events crucial to Israel that occur afterwards in the world of the
book, nor does the book suggest that their actions and behavior mattered
in terms of the eventual fate of Israel’s ideological centers such as Jerusa-
lem and the Jerusalemite temple at the end of the monarchic period.15
Although the northerners are Israel, they and their lives and experiences
remain peripheral to the main history of Israel, whose main focus in

Chronicles is and remains Jerusalem/Zion/temple, and by extension Judah
(and later Yehud, by implication).16 In other words, the northerners are
construed as peripheral Israel.
Should peripheral Israel come in pilgrimage to central Israel and its
institutions? In the accounts of Hezekiah and Josiah there is an element of
pilgrimage of the northern, non-Judahite Israel to Jerusalem and the
temple. The centrality of the temple in Chronicles implies that non-
Judahite (non-Yehudite) Israel is supposed to come to the festivals, which
according to these discourses could take place only in Jerusalem, and
should tend to participate as much as reasonable in the ritual life of the
temple. These considerations are important for the proper, ideological
Jerusalemization (or, from a perspective closer to that of the book, ‘proper’
Israelitization) of peripheral Israel within the Jerusalem-centered dis-
courses of the Yehudite literati.
Against this general, shared background, it is worth noting that Chroni-
cles constructs these requirements as contingent on the status of the
temple, which in turn is contingent, at least in part, on the actions of the
people and leaders of central Israel (i.e., Judahite/Yehudite Israel) rather
than categorical obligations. The book includes a paradigmatic case in
which legitimate pilgrimage17 to the only proper temple in Jerusalem was
reportedly impossible, due to the positive absence of a proper temple at
the time (see 2 Chron. 28.9-15).18 What are the northern Israelites to do in
this case, and how can they fulfill their obligations to YHWH as Israel?
This text is particularly important since it balances some of the messages
in Chronicles (e.g., centrality of Temple and Davidic dynasty), but is also
crucial for understanding several elements of the constructions of non-
Judahite (/Yehudite) Israel reflected and shaped by Chronicles. More-
over, significantly, this is probably the only pericope in Chronicles in
which the northern Israelites are characterized as the main heroes of a
sub-narrative.19 2 Chronicles 28.9-15 clearly communicated to its intended
and primary rereaders that Israel can behave piously without a legitimate
temple and without a Davidic king reigning over them, and outside the
territory of Judah (/Yehud). At the same time this manifestation of non-
Judahite Israel in Chronicles had, and within the story had to have a
prophet to teach them what they ought to do.20 The account strongly
suggests to the intended and primary rereaders that these Israelites would
not have behaved in godly ways if the prophet had not been there to
confront the people. Thus, the text conveys the importance of having a
true prophet in the midst of Israel.
It is to be stressed that the prophet here is above all a teacher who

successfully communicates to his community YHWH’s requirements from
them. This prophetic role is presented as essential to society, because of
the fundamental character of the divine teachings; without knowledge of
them Israel could not be imagined. These teachings deal, of course, not
only or even mainly with matters such as participating in a legitimate
pilgrimage to the temple in Jerusalem. They require, among others, and as
explicitly mentioned in 2 Chron. 28.9-15 that Israel free the captive, feed
the hungry, water the thirsty, and cloth the naked among their brethrens.
Pious Israel, whether in Judah/Yehud or elsewhere is conceived as always
required to fulfill these obligations, and to fulfill them, they require legiti-
mate teachers. To be sure, since within the world of Chronicles the true
teachings of YHWH are those held by the Jerusalemite elite (and its literati
and their authoritative books), then such teachers, be they in Yehud or
outside Yehud, must be well aware of the positions accepted in Jerusalem
and uphold them. To some extent, at least, Chronicles constructs them as
people who are supposed to socialize peripheral Israel in the true ways of
Israel, that is to ideologically Jerusalemize them.
Other non-Judahite prophets appear in the book of Chronicles. The
most important for the present matters is probably Elijah (see 2 Chron.
21.15). The Chronistic Elijah remains, of course, a northern prophet who
lived during the Ahabite regime, but significantly, the book does not devote
any narrative space to his interactions with the kings of his own polity.21
Instead, he becomes a writer, a warning figure to the king of Judah. YHWH
is implicitly characterized as one who chooses pious northerners, that is,
peripheral Israelites who even live under a sinful regime, for prophets,
whose real focus is that which happens at the center, in Jerusalem.
Northern Israel stands in a liminal conceptual space within Chronicles.
On the one hand, it is ‘in the land’, that is, not in exile, although their land
is by itself of a somewhat liminal status, and certainly peripheral in relation
to Judah and Jerusalem. On the other hand, it is clearly part and parcel of a
peripheral Israel whose actions and history do not count much towards
the history of Israel and the fate of its center. In Chronicles, northern
Israel stands conceptually and ideologically between the central Israel in
Jerusalem/Yehud and Israel outside ‘the land’, as it shares its peripheral
condition and its associated attributes with the latter, but not the ideologi-
cal topos of being in exile outside the land and the issues it raises within
the Jerusalemite discourses of the Achaemenid period.
Of course, the authorship and intended and primary readerships of
Chronicles, as any Yehudite literati of the time, ‘knew’ of Israel’s exilic
experience outside ‘the land’. The book explicitly deals with Israel’s exilic
experience in two different texts that balance each other’s message on the
matter, and which only together reflect the worldview conveyed by the
book to its intended rereadership. The first one is 2 Chron. 6.36-40.22 Here
the reference is to Israelites who are taken into captivity and exiled to
nearby or faraway lands because of their sins. In exile they repent, pray in
the direction of ‘the land’ in general and Jerusalem in particular and towards
or through the Temple.23 This text concludes with an expression of hope
that YHWH will forgive and, one assumes, restore them from exile. The
text certainly conveys a sense that being outside ‘the land’ is in itself a
punishment. It also instructs the rereaders of the book of Chronicles that
pious Israelites, if they are in exile should pray towards/through Jerusalem
and the Temple. The peripheral location of those in exile is thus empha-
sized along with the centrality of Jerusalem.
Turning to the second relevant text involves the conclusion of the entire
book of Chronicles and as such demands much attention from its primary
and intended readers. The report in 2 Chron. 36.21-23 informs them that
the land had to be desolate. The transition from the desolation of ‘the
land’, now meaning only the territory of the southern kingdom and of
future Yehud, to its restoration is now framed around shabbatot, around
70 years, that is ten shabbatot of desolation, which are to be followed by
the beginning of a new cycle, this time one of promise (see 2 Chron.
36.21-22).24 The 70 years are explicitly related also to YHWH’s word by the
mouth of Jeremiah (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22; cf. Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10) and
YHWH’s stirring up of the spirit of Cyrus, but nowhere to any repentance
on the side of those in exile.25 Whereas individuals may go and remain in
exile, the ‘exile’ of the land of Judah/Yehud is conceived as fundamentally
limited in time by YHWH’s desire and only as a means to fulfill its puri-
fication so Israel can dwell again in it. Significantly, the text expresses and
communicates a fundamental difference between the land of Judah/Yehud
and other territories, even if they are considered within ‘the land’. This
distinction overlaps and contributes to the ideological construction of
center and periphery associated with the dwellers of these areas.
As expected, the text reflects and communicates a negative evaluation
of the life of individuals and ‘the people’ in exile and as something to be
overcome. Moreover, on the surface the conclusion of the book suggests to
the intended and primary rereaders of the book that this was overcome by
YHWH’s word and actions, as mediated through his agents (Cyrus and
Jeremiah as understood by the implied author of Chronicles).26 But to what
extent was this actually overcome? The very last words of the book raise
significant questions for the construction of peripheral Israel in Chroni-
cles. The text reads ‫ֹלהיו ִעמּוֹ וְ יָ ַעל‬
ָ ‫ ִמי ָב ֶכם ִמ ָכּל ַעמּוֹ יְ הֹוָ ה ֱא‬which may be
translated as ‘whoever among you, of his [YHWH’s] people, may YHWH,
his god be with him and let him go up [to build the temple of YHWH in
Jerusalem, which is in Judah]’. Both the intended and primary rereadership
and the authorship of the book know all too well that many of Israel did
not do so, even if according to the text they certainly could.27 Chronicles
responds by marginalizing them through total exclusion from the implied
narrative of reconstruction.28 But the book cannot eliminate their presence
in the world of knowledge of the readership nor can one reasonably assume
that careful rereaders of the book such as the literati for whom it was
composed consistently read the book in all their rereadings in a way that
was uninformed by their presence, or that they imagined the implied
author to be uninformed of that fact. Further, it is worth stressing that the
book itself does not conclude with an explicit report about the response of
Israel to Cyrus’ proclamation, as one may have expected, but with the
(largely unfulfilled) choice that it states.29
But if so, what ideological venues of interpretation does the book allow
or suggest for explaining the choice made by many of Israel not to end
their exile, and not to return to Judah and Jerusalem to build the temple?
Certainly from the discursive perspective of the book this is an absurd
choice. Perhaps more importantly, as absurd as it might be construed
within the discourses of the Yehudite literati, this choice still created a
situation that could not be rectified from the time of Cyrus to that of the
composition and primary reading and rereading of the book of Chronicles.
Moreover, there was no reason to expect that under normal sociopolitical
circumstances it will be rectified in the future. Although there was a
temple, and although Israel dwelt in Yehud, there remained a diaspora, a
peripheral, non-Yehudite Israel and so it will remain for the foreseen
future, until YHWH causes an upheaval in the worldly course of events.
Without doubt the most analogous case in the book of Chronicles
involving such a discursive absurdity involves the separation of the North
in 2 Chron. 10.1–11.4. Even if core facts about the past agreed upon among
the literati30 and the well thought-out ending of Chronicles preempted any
kind of parallel or parallelizing narratives linking the two, they both involve:
(a) the creation of a peripheral – from the Chronicles’ viewpoint – form
of Israel, which as such is excluded from central (hi)story of Israel;31 (b)
the permanent character of this form, which remains till the present of
the intended and primary readership and till any imaginable future within
the normal course of events; (c) separation from temple; and (d) absurd
decision-making that leads to indelible consequences. Further, one must
keep in mind that (e) Samaria is the most prominent manifestation of non-
Yehudite Israel within the discourses of Yehudite Israel. This being so, it is
worth stressing that Chronicles communicates to its readership that the
separation of the north, and its continuous separate existence cannot be
explained in humanly reasonable terms – that is, within the literati’s
accepted discourses – but only as the result of YHWH’s will; a will that
from the perspective of the literati in Yehud defies explanation.32 Just as
the differentiation between ‘northerners’ (be they of the Northern Kings,
or of the Achaemenid province of Samaria) and Judah/Yehud and their
separate ideological existence are construed as a lasting phenomenon
grounded in YHWH’s will, it seems most reasonable that the same holds
true within the discourse of the authorship and intended and primary
readerships of the book in relation to the lasting existence of diasporic,
non-Yehudite, peripheral Israel in Yehud’s days. This existence will last as
long as YHWH wishes it to last, and as long as YHWH does not intervene
to bring it to an end. In this regard, the book of Chronicles advances a
position similar to that of prophetic literature.33
3. Conclusions
In sum, Chronicles communicated to its primary and intended rereader-
ships that Israel, or the manifestation of transtemporal Israel in the Persian
period, included more than Yehudite Israel. The Samarian, and other
Yahwistic groups outside Yehud were Israel too. At the same time, it con-
veyed a very emphatic sense of center and periphery, and allocated to the
latter all of non-Yehudite Israel (including groups in ‘the land’, if they were
not in Yehud).34 Peripheral Israel was fully removed from the main histori-
cal narrative of Israel.
At the same time, since peripheral Israel is still Israel, those associated
with it were construed as required to accept fully YHWH’s teachings, as
these were understood in Jerusalem by the literati, and behave in accor-
dance with them. In other words, from an ideological viewpoint, periph-
eral Israelites were to think and behave as good, pious Yehudites. The logic
of the text calls for their full ideological Jerusalemization. To achieve the
latter, the same logic calls for presence of teachers and texts (e.g., Chroni-
cles) that faithfully represent the teachings of YHWH considered to be
legitimate and authoritative in Yehud, for failing that they may stray from
YHWH’s ways, that is, think and act as non-Jerusalemized, and therefore
be liable to divine punishment.
The scope of Yehud’s influence, however, is limited within these ideo-
logical horizons to teaching peripheral Israel the proper way and the
maintenance of the proper, only legitimate temple and its rituals, which
allows for the possibility of pilgrimage. Yehud is not only historically unable
to bring an end to exile or to annex the northern Israel, but is also not
required to do so ideologically. Within the worldview embedded in Chroni-
cles, Yehud is supposed to mitigate the existence of peripheral Israel by
Jerusalemizing it, but to do nothing to bring it to an end, even such a
development was seen in Yehudite discourses as involving highly desirable
results.35 From the perspective of Chronicles, the very existence of periph-
eral Israel (and exile) is grounded in YHWH’s inscrutable, but no less
legitimate will even if it might convey a sense that the Yehudite restora-
tion/redemption so praised in Chronicles is only partial.
Endnotes
1. This chapter originated as a paper delivered and discussed at the History of
Yehud session of the European Seminar for Historical Methodology, Groningen, 2004. I
would like to express my thanks to the participants in the seminar for their comments.
2. Achaemenid period Jerusalem was essentially a town associated with the temple
and with a highly uncharacteristic working distribution. Lipschits’ words are on target:
‘It seems that the proper way to define the city at this period [Achaemenid period,
EBZ] is a Temple, alongside which there was a settlement both for those who served in
the Temple and for a small number of additional residents’ (O. Lipschits, ‘Demographic
Changes in Judah between the Seventh and the Fifth Centuries B.C.E.’, in O. Lipschits
and J. Blenkinsopp [eds.], Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period [Winona
Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003], pp. 323-76, citation from p. 330). Both Lipschits and
Carter consider that the settled area in the city was about 60 dunams, which if multi-
plied by the commonly used coefficient of 25 would render a population of about 1500
people. See C.E. Carter, The Emergence of Yehud in the Persian Period: A Social and
Demographic Study (JSOTSup, 294; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 190,
201-202. The settlement in Mt Gerizim in the Persian period also developed around
the temple there, despite the geographical features of the site that are not necessarily
the best for building a city. Both Jerusalem and Mt Gerizim became much larger cities
in the Hellenistic period. On Mt Gerizim, see I. Magen, ‘Mt. Gerizim. A Temple City’,
Qadmontiot 33/120 (2000), pp. 74-118 (Hebrew).
3. By Israel I refer here to the ideological construction of transtemporal Israel with
which the Achaemenid period literati identified themselves – and likely other groups
in their society as well. Within their discourses the community/polity in Yehud was
considered a particular historical manifestation of Israel. This transtemporal Israel was
constructed as a people with a particular relation with YHWH, specific obligations
that ensue from it, and with agreed upon history, which included among others the
patriarchal period, Exodus, Sinai, the conquest of the land, the monarchic period and
its fall.
4. I wrote on these matters at some length in E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud?
Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile:
Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003),
pp. 32-48; and ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the
Term “Israel” in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy
(eds.), The Pitcher Is Broken. Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190;
Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), pp. 95-149.
5. The ideological construction of center/diaspora or exile is related to the discur-
sive polarity between ‘the land’ and ‘outside the land’. The latter, however, overlaps
partially with that of Yehud/non-Yehud, because ‘the land’ was conceived as including
more than Yehud, even if to some extent Jerusalem was seen as the core and center of
‘the land’.
Since this is a study of how Chronicles deals with matters there, it is worth noting
that notwithstanding the fact agreed in the shared discourse of the period that ‘the
land’ included more than the territory of Yehud, Cisjordanian Northern Israel is char-
acterized with liminal features in Chronicles (see below). In fact, it is often construed in
the book as paradigmatic of peripheral/non-Judahite/Yehudite Israel. Thus, although,
Cisjordanian Northern Israel is construed as certainly ‘in the land’, it is also, to a large
extent, construed along lines similar to those of other manifestations of Israel outside
the land. As for Transjordanian Northern Israel, Chronicles construes it, on the one
hand as part of ‘the land – probably an agreed upon core fact in the traditional
memories of the past of Persian period Yehud – but also as a place outside the dwelling
places of Israel since the days of ‘King Pul of Assyria’ (see 1 Chron. 5.26), unlike
Cisjordan. The symbolic differentiation between these two areas (Cisjordanian and
Transjordanian Northern Israel) is of interest, particularly since it is likely that there
were Yahwistic groups in Transjordan during the Persian period, by the time of the
authorship and primary readership of the book of Chronicles. This observation, how-
ever, deserves a separate treatment and in any event is not directly relevant to the
argument advanced here.
6. The persistent, numerous, utopian messages in prophetic literature about a
future reunification of Israel around Jerusalem and its leadership and institutions
addressed obvious ideological needs within their discourses, and deeply-felt hopes.
These messages removed or lessened disturbing instances of cognitive dissonance by
reassuring the community of the certainty of an ideal future/s and by asking them to
imagine it/them in numerous ways.
7. A systematic, comprehensive study of these images can only be advanced in the
frame of a monograph devoted to the topic. It certainly stands beyond the scope and
genre of an individual presentation, paper or chapter.
8. To state, however, that a book that concludes with ‘Whoever is among you of all
his people, may the YHWH his God be with him! Let him go up’ (2 Chron. 36.23b)
portrays ‘an interrupted settlement in the land’ is going too far (see also 1 Chron. 5.25-
26; 2 Chron. 36.20-21). Moreover, the exile is at the very least a central theological/
ideological concept shaping the book and its meaning for its intended and primary
rereaderships. For a different position see S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chroni-
cles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev.
edn, 1997), pp. 385-86 and passim; compare and contrast. J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic
Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998).
9. On the matter of balancing accounts in Chronicles, see Chapters 2 and 8 in this
volume.
10. I discussed it at length in Chapter 6.
11. To be sure, the historical circumstances in Yehud preempted such a possibility.
It is worth stressing that in Chronicles pious Judahite kings were allowed to conquer
and maintain former territories of the northern kingdom only if these territories stood
within the later borders of Achaemenid Yehud (e.g., Bethel). Samaria and Shechem,
e.g., were outside these territories and were never conquered by a Judahite king, even if
within the world of the narrative this would have been an easy endeavor.
12. On the undesirability of alliances with northern Israel, see G.N. Knoppers,
‘ ‘‘YHWH Is Not with Israel”: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles’, CBQ 58 (1996), pp.
601-26, esp. 612-22, 624. See also my previous contribution to the European Seminar
for Historical Methodology, ‘The House of Omri/Ahab in Chronicles,’ to be published
in L.L. Grabbe, Ahab Agonistes: The Rise and Fall of the Omri Dynasty (LHBOTS;
ESHM; London: T&T Clark, forthcoming).
13. Notice the key ideological demand that Hezekiah advances in 2 Chron. 30.8,
‘yield yourselves to the LORD and come to his sanctuary (i.e., Jerusalem), which he has
sanctified forever, and serve the LORD your God (NRSV; emphasis mine)’. Northern
Israel has to accept that it is impossible to serve YHWH and come to any sanctuary
other than the Jerusalemite temple. It is worth noticing that to a large extent Chroni-
cles is constructing here the boundaries within which a Jerusalemite-centered diaspora
may exist. The issue deserves a separate discussion that goes beyond the scope of this
paper.
14. Chronicles allows for exceptional cases, such as Elijah who remains in the North
but who pays close attention to the Davidic kings, and particularly focuses on how they
have gone astray by imitating and even surpassing his own kings in evildoing and,
accordingly, on the coming judgment against the king of Judah of his own time. The
Elijah of Chronicles does not interact with the Ahabite kings, but with the Davidic
kings of Jerusalem. See 2 Chron. 21.12-15.
15. The sinful actions that led to the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple are
assigned to Judahites.
16. Willi is correct in stressing the central role of Judah, to the point that ‘It is not
David that makes Judah, but it is Judah that makes David!’ See T. Willi, ‘Late Persian
Judaism and its Conception of an Integral Israel according to Chronicles: Some Obser-
vations on Form and Function of the Genealogy of Judah in 1 Chronicles 2.3-4.23’, in
T.C. Eskenazi and K.H. Richards (eds.), Second Temple Studies. II. Temple Community
in the Persian Period (JSOTSup, 175; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994), pp. 146-
62 (160). Needless to say, such an emphatic Judahite centrality projects an image of a
Yehudite centrality, as Willi explicitly recognizes, though he develops the argument in
a manner substantially different than from the one advanced here.
17. For the ideological role of the image of pilgrimage in the early Second Temple,
cf. M.D. Knowles, ‘Pilgrimage Imagery in the Returns in Ezra’, JBL 123 (2004), pp. 57-
74.
18. Chronicles does not discuss instances in which participation in Temple pilgrim-
age is not practical due to distance, since the geographic setting of the narratives in
Chronicles places it far away from ‘the land’. It contains, however, a reference to
praying ‫( דרך‬in the direction of) Jerusalem and the temple, when the supplicants are
away from the city and temple. See 2 Chron. 6.34 (//1 Kgs 8.44).
19. This account is part and parcel of a larger unit, namely the account of the reign
of Ahaz in Chronicles, about which I wrote at some length elsewhere. See Chapter 11.
20. See the emphatic opening in 2 Chron. 28.9.
21. See 2 Chron. 21.12-15.
22. The text is an integral part of the book of Chronicles, even if it follows in the
main that of 2 Kgs 8.46-52.
23. Cf. 2 Chron. 6.34-35.
24. As is often recognized, the text is also reminiscent of Lev. 26.34-35, 43 (cf.
2 Chron. 26.21). On the ‘combination’ of Jer. 25.9-12 and Lev. 26. 32-35 in this text see,
e.g., M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1988), pp. 482-83, 488-89; cf. Dyck, Theocratic Ideology, pp. 79-81. See also Chapter 7.
25. Cf. 2 Chron. 6.36-40.
26. And the authorial voice in Leviticus, as understood by the implied author of
Chronicles. See note above.
27. The numbers of returnees could not have passed a few thousand. See Lipschits,
‘Demographic Changes’, p. 365. This fact stands in contrast not only with the number
in Ezra 2.64-65; Neh. 7.66-67 – which are larger than the total population of Persian
Yehud – and which may be attributed to rhetorical efforts at lessening cognitive
dissonance, but also with the accepted memory in Yehud of the population of late
monarchic Judah and the impression created in authoritative texts such as Kings,
Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Chronicles that all (or almost all, or all ‘meaningful’ population)
of Judah went into exile (see 2 Kgs 25.26; Jer. 32.43; 2 Chron. 36.20-21; Ezekiel 37,
which implies that all the people are in exile).
28. For instance, they are not mentioned as potential donors of goods or the like to
be sent for the sake of the building of the temple.
29. To be sure a statement that all of YHWH’s people came back to restore the
temple would mean that the exile ended for anyone of Israel who lived in the Persian
Empire, which in practical terms means for all Israel. Cf. the following statement ‘[h]e
[i.e., the Chronicler; EBZ] deliberately stops short…to end on an eschatological note:
he still writes “in exile”; the definitive Return has not yet taken place’ (W. Johnstone,
1 and 2 Chronicles. II. 2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254;
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), p. 275. The communicative roles of eschato-
logical motifs in Chronicles, their importance, and even their presence are all a matter
for debate. As a whole, Chronicles does not convey to its readership a strong sense of
eschatology; in fact, it seems to move in the opposite direction. Nevertheless, Johns-
tone is undoubtedly right in stressing that the conclusion of the book reflects a self-
perceived location ‘in exile’.
30. On the concept and historiographical importance of core facts about the past
agreed upon among a particular group see Chapter 4 and bibliography mentioned
there.
31. On the exclusion of peripheral Israel from the implied narrative of reconstruc-
tion see n. 33 below.
32. And a will which, from a ‘historiographical’ perspective, brings a strong dimen-
sion of unpredictability to history.
33. The most recent, substantial treatment of the conclusion of Chronicles and its
message is I. Kalimi’s chapter entitled ‘ “So Let Him Go Up [to Jerusalem]”: A Historical
and Theological Observation on Cyrus’ Decree in Chronicles’, in I. Kalimi, An Ancient
Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, his Time, Place and Writing [SSN, 46;
Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2005]). I agree with Kalimi that the decree of Cyrus is not
an addendum to Chronicles; certainly it is not an addendum to the book in present
form. I disagree, however, with some central aspects of his reconstruction of the main
theological/ideological message of the text. According to him, the very ending of the
book, ‫ֹלהיו ִעמּוֹ וְ יָ ַעל‬
ָ ‫‘ ִמי ָב ֶכם ִמ ָכּל ַעמּוֹ יְ הֹוָ ה ֱא‬Whoever is among you of all his people,
may the LORD his God be with him! Let him go up’ (NRSV) in 2 Chron. 36.23 represents
a call for immigration to Judah/Israel. Kalimi maintains that the Chronicler wished to
conclude the book with such a call, due to the lack of population in Jerusalem/Yehud in
his days and that the last sentence in the version of the decree in Ezra 1.4 with its
reference to those who remain behind was not included because ‘the Chronicler proba-
bly considers this situation [i.e., the existence of people who remained in Babylon] a
disgrace, and therefore also an inappropriate conclusion to his work’ (p. 149). To be
sure, the idea of full return from exile was a very substantial element in the social and
ideological constructions of utopia/s of Jerusalemite literati as reflected in much of
the Hebrew Bible, and certainly in prophetic literature. (This conceptual element is
significantly often related to that of the re-unification of Judah and Israel, often under a
Davide.) I have no doubt also that from this perspective the very existence of diaspora,
the separation between Judah and Israel, and the lack of a Davide were considered a
disgrace that at some point in the future would be removed. Chronicles shares with
many other texts such a hope. But the main focus of Chronicles is not on fulfilling
utopia or hopes for far away days. Moreover, Jerusalemite readers of the book during
the Achaemenid or early Hellenistic period knew all too well that many of Israel did
not listen to Cyrus’ invitation and did not immigrate, even if according to the text they
certainly could. The ending of the book carries perhaps at one level an implied call for
immigration, but at the same time is for the intended and primary readership a strong
reminder of a choice that had already taken place and which within the Chronicler’s
ideology is inexplicable and as such fully associated with the will of the deity. This
being so, I do not see why the readers of Chronicles would think that people during
their days would be influenced by the call of the Chronicler when they rejected that of
Cyrus. I think, however, that Chronicles assumes that (a) all Israel will come back one
day to Jerusalem/Judah, but (b) human hopes aside, this will happen when YHWH
decides that it be so. Till this day, within the discourse of Chronicles and much of the
prophetic literature, there is not much real hope for a removal of the disgrace of exile
or related disgraces for that matter.
To be sure, Chronicles marginalizes those who remained outside the land, but there
is more than a sense of disgrace about their choice. The text communicates a sense of
total exclusion from the implied narrative of reconstruction. They are not mentioned
as potential donors of goods or the like to be sent for the sake of the building of the
temple. The builders of the temple, community and above all those who continue to
develop the sacral history of Israel are, according to Chronicles, those in the land. In
the large, inner Yehudite debate about the possible roles of non-Yehudite worshipers of
the Israelite deity in Jerusalem/Yehud, the Chronicler stakes a clear position. Cf. and
contrast with Zechariah 1–8. On the latter see J. Kessler, ‘Diaspora and Homeland in
the Early Achaemenid Period: Community, Geography and Demography in Zechariah
1–8’, in Jon L. Berquist (ed.), NewApproaches to the Persian Period (Semeia Series;
Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, forthcoming).
34. It also creates a sense of center and periphery concerning ‘the land’. See above.
35. It seems that the ideological question of whether the future holds a reunification
of Israel and Judah under David, or a full gathering of exiles or not was a moot point in
Persian Yehud. Some of the prophetic literature reflects positions that are not conveyed
directly or indirectly by the book of Chronicles. The question of how Chronicles’ ideo-
logical constructions of peripheral/non-Yehudite Israel relate to those communicated
by other books such as Hosea, Obadiah, Zephaniah, Zechariah, Ezra, Nehemiah requires
a separate study.
Chapter 11
A GATEWAY TO THE CHRONICLER’S TEACHING:

THE ACCOUNT OF THE REIGN OF AHAZ IN 2 CHRONICLES 28.1-27*
1. Introduction and Methodological Considerations

The point is that we must see the Chronicler not as a poor historian or as a
good historian, but as an interpreter. He handles the older traditions; he
incorporates newer material in them; he rearranges, comments, elaborates,
sermonizes – all with the purpose of bringing home to his readers (or per-
haps his hearers, for the style is very strongly homiletic), the meaning for
themselves of what is being related and expounded…he invites a particular
kind of understanding, the pointing of a particular moral or theological
insight (emphasis mine).1
It is generally agreed that the primary aim of the Chronicler was to instruct
the historical community, that is, the community/ies for which the Book of
Chronicles was composed.2 The instruction that 1–2 Chronicles brought
home to its community concerned central theological issues, such as the
meaning of human history, YHWH’s requirements of human beings, indi-
vidual responsibility and divine retribution, legitimate and illegitimate
political power, or inclusion and exclusion in Israel.
The Chronicler does not claim to present a personal point of view on
these issues, but to provide the community with YHWH’s point of view on
them. True, the Chronicler never claimed to have received an oral or visual
divine ‘revelation’ (i.e., God never ‘spoke’ to him/her,3 literally), but his/her
implicit claim is that there is a way to understand God’s principles: to
study the past, that is, to study ‘history’ as seen by the Chronicler. The
underlying line of reasoning is that since it is assumed that God rules the
world according to certain principles (cf. Prov. 8.22), then these principles
can be abstracted from the results of the divine activity, that is, from what
happens in history. Thus, if one desires to deduce divine principles con-
cerning Israel and the Israelites, one may deduce these from the accounts
reporting their operation in Israelite history. This paper focuses on one of
these accounts, namely, the narrative of Ahaz’s reign over Judah in 2 Chron.
28.1-27 which is paradigmatic of both the Chronicler’s methodology and
11. A Gateway to the Chronicler’s Teaching 211
his/her theological principles, and therefore, can be considered to be an

appropriate gateway to the Chronicler’s religious thought and teaching.4
The account in 2 Chron. 28.1-27 is especially important because it is
the only one in Chronicles that includes a reference to a community of
kingless Israelites who lived in the post-Davidic–Solomonic period and
reportedly behaved according to YHWH’s will (see vv. 9-15).5 Certainly,
the community (or communities) within which and for which the book of
Chronicles was composed were also kingless and one has to assume that
they considered themselves to be capable of living in accordance with
YHWH’s will. Thus, the circumstances of the historical community of the
Chronicler and that of the reported Israelite community seem to be paral-
lel, at least in this respect. It is reasonable to assume that among all the
messages conveyed by 1–2 Chronicles to its historical audience, those
conveyed by means of the single reference to a community considered to
be similar to the actual audience relate to issues of main, and not periph-
eral, concern for the latter.
This being the case, it is not surprising that the Sitz im Buch of the
account in 2 Chron. 28.1-27 calls attention to its contents, for it is located
at a turning point in the literary/historiographical discourse: the northern
kingdom has just fallen and Judah and Jerusalem have reached their
moment of greatest rebellion against the divine will; when their king
voluntarily shuts down the Temple. Thus, the circumstances described in
Abijah’s speech (2 Chron. 13.4-13; another text whose Sitz im Buch calls
attention to its contents) have been reversed; an era has come to an end.6
Turning to the methodological underpinning of this article, it is the
basic assumption of this paper that the historical-critical study of the
communicative message of Chronicles cannot stop with a discussion of
the surface (or textual, or literal) ‘meaning’; it must include the study of
the conveyed meaning. The Chronicler, defined as the author/s of the
book of Chronicles, is correctly understood to be a religious teacher/
preacher. This being the case, the focus of an historical-critical analysis of
Chronicles has to be on reconstructed communicative meanings and
especially (reconstructed) intentional communicative meanings.7 In ‘func-
tional’ terms these meanings can be characterized as those that seem to
be conveyed directly or indirectly by the text under discussion and that
one may consider reasonable within the cultural/social milieu of the
Chronicler and his/her audience. The study of these reconstructed inten-
tional communicative meanings cannot be carried out without analyzing
the implications, or more precisely, the implicatures of the accounts in
Chronicles.8
The study offered in this paper focuses on one of these accounts. That
the Chronicler wished the audience to learn theological lessons from
discrete units in Chronicles is a very reasonable assumption. The sheer
length of the book (it is the longest book in the Old Testament/Hebrew
Bible) and the wide range of theological issues discussed in the book makes
the whole work an unmanageable teaching unit. Thus, it seems reasonable
to assume that the book was communally studied piece by piece, and that
the Chronicler was aware that such would be the case and wrote accord-
ingly. Indeed, an analysis of discrete accounts in the book of Chronicles
(and sometimes, even of portions of these accounts) shows that each of
them shapes a persuasive communicative message that relates directly a
few theological issues (or set of issues). This ‘narrow’ persuasive message
was best suited to fulfill the Chronicler’s aim: to influence the behavior
(and attitude) of the addressed community in regards to the discussed
topic and to closely related issues, by implication.
Yet, it would be unreasonable to assume that the author of 1–2 Chroni-
cles was not aware that communal learning of account after account leads
to cumulative results and that the lessons learned from one account
cannot be kept separate from the lessons learned from another account.
Thus, the reconstruction of the historical message of the Chronicler to
the community should be conducted in two levels. The first is the level of
the discrete account. This level is helpful for the understanding of the
main teaching topic that the Chronicler wanted the audience to learn from
an individual account or from a part of it, and of the main rhetoric strate-
gies that the Chronicler uses to achieve this goal. The second level deals
with interaction among the different topical lessons that the Chronicler
wished the community to learn and with the theological perspectives
brought up by this interaction. Such two-level reconstruction provides the
interpretative key for the understanding of the comprehensive communi-
cative meaning of the separate lessons. Of course, this interaction is likely
to reflect more clearly the actual theological thought of the Chronicler
than any single account, or a series of similar accounts whose aim is to
teach the community the same lesson.
Turning to the explicit contents of the account in 2 Chron. 28.1-27, it
describes not only several representative deeds of the Judean king but also
notes the attitude and behavior of the king’s subjects in general and of the
leaders of the country in particular. It also reports on the actions and
attitudes of Ahaz’s contemporaries in northern Israel. The Chronicler’s
description of the history of this period diverges greatly from that in 2 Kgs
16.1-20.9 The purpose of this paper, however, is neither to reconstruct the
history of Ahaz’s reign nor to discuss the possible existence or the nature
of sources behind the Chronicler’s work. The purpose is, rather, to dem-
onstrate how the account concerning Ahaz’s reign expresses many aspects
of the Chronicler’s theology and to identify the divine principles concern-
ing Israel (and the Israelites) that the author wished his/her readers to
infer.
2. The Story of Ahaz and its Lessons

2.1. Concerning an Individually Assessed Correspondence between Action
and Effect
According to 2 Chron. 28.3-4 Ahaz followed the ways of the kings of Israel
in their cultic misdeeds. He made molten images for the Baals (most likely
an implicit comparison with Jeroboam I),10 made offerings in the Valley of
Ben-Hinnom (without any parallel in 2 Kings but cf. Jer. 19.2-5), burned
his sons,11 and made offerings at the bamot. God’s response to this wrong-
doing is clear: God gave Ahaz into the hands of the king of Aram and also
into the hands of the king of Israel (2 Chron. 28.5). In the Chronicler’s
history, this kind of divine response to wrongdoing was attested in the past
(e.g., 2 Chron. 12.1-6; 21.12-17 [esp. vv. 16-17]; 24.23-24; 25.14-22),
exemplifies an individually assessed correspondence between action and
effect,12 and is to be expected in the story.
In fact, this part of the account is only another case of reports ‘docu-
menting’ such a correspondence. Accordingly, a critical study of the speci-
fic lessons that the Chronicler wished to be inferred from this portion of
‘history’ cannot be carried out without an adequate examination of the
communicative message of the entire documenting series. On the surface,
such an examination is far from being a demanding task. Even a cursory
reading of Chronicles shows that the author impressed this correspon-
dence on the historical audience by his/her reporting of numerous cases
in which a clear coherence between actions and effects was attested in ‘his-
tory’. Moreover, to make the point ‘fool-proof’, the Chronicler added
explicit interpretative remarks to some of the accounts (e.g., 2 Chron.
12.5b).
A closer examination of this series and of Chronicles as a whole, though,
shows that the Chronicler never claimed, or even implied, that every his-
torical event can be explained in terms of the direct correspondence
between individual actions and necessary divine responses. To the con-
trary, the Chronicler ‘demonstrated’ through ‘historical’ examples that this
principle of correspondence might fail occasionally. For instance, the book

of Chronicles contains four accounts of pious kings who were attacked by
powerful enemies (2 Chron. 14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21). Whatever
the results of these wars, such attacks were commonly considered to be
typical divine responses to wrongdoing, as punishment (e.g., 2 Chron.12.2-
5). True, these specific accounts can be explained in terms of ‘God testing
kings’ (or human beings in general).13 But this explanation (which I accept)
does not deny, but rather emphasizes that these accounts describe ‘effects’
(i.e., these attacks) that cannot be explained as the result of preceding
human actions. History, therefore, is not considered to consist only of a
series of human actions and divine responses to them which are governed
by one consistent set of rules. Sometimes, YHWH would take the initiative
and test pious kings.
Moreover, a number of accounts in Chronicles describe ‘historical’ events
that plainly contradict the principle of coherence between individual
human actions and divine responses (i.e., ‘effects’), at least if they are
assessed from the point of view of the individual, as the Chronicles usually
does. For instance, the Chronicler extensively rewrote, and certainly
reinterpreted, the story of David’s census in 2 Sam. 24.1-25 (see 1 Chron.
21.1-30). But this writer did not deviate from the claim in Samuel that
70,000 Israelites were killed because of David’s sin (1 Chron. 21.14; cf.
2 Sam. 24.15). In fact, an analysis of these two verses shows that the refer-
ence to the 70,000 Israelites is almost the only thing that the Chronicler
copied verbatim from 2 Sam. 24.15. Ruling out as unreasonable any
reconstruction of the Chronicler’s thought that assumes absentminded-
ness in the composition of this pericope, or more precisely, only absent-
mindedness in relation to the relevant sentence, one has to conclude that
either the Chronicler wrote a story that explicitly claims that 70,000
Israelites were killed as a consequence of David’s sin or this theologian was
unaware of – or decided to ignore – the implications of the (almost) only
verbatim quotation from the deuteronomistic history in this pericope.
But the second alternative is highly questionable for it involves circular
thinking.
In fact, an implied and ad hoc differentiation between significant and
intentional messages conveyed by a skilful rewriting of received texts
from the deuteronomistic history on the one hand, and the ‘accidental’
message concerning the 70,000 killed because of David’s sin, which was
supposedly due to ‘careless’ quoting of the same sources on the other, can
be maintained only if one assumes a priori that the Chronicler’s message
concerning an individually assessed correspondence between actions and

effects is such that it could not have included the implications of 1 Chron.
21.14. The argument, thus, turns conclusions conceived beforehand into
necessary premises for its validity. Hence, it falls into the trap of circular
thinking and, therefore, is to be rejected.14 To sum up, through the text
of 1 Chron. 21.14, the audience of the Chronicler was informed of an
important event15 that no individually assessed doctrine of coherence
between actions and effects can explain.
Another relevant example concerns YHWH’s choice of Solomon
(1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 1 Chron. 28.5-7; 29.1). Even if Solomon’s election is
interpreted there as YHWH’s granting Solomon the potential to build the
temple and to establish the Davidic dynasty, such a grant is certainly a
blessing. But this blessing is not and cannot be explained in terms of Solo-
mon’s deeds; according to the Chronicler, Solomon was not even born at
the time of YHWH’s election (1 Chron. 22.9).
Examples of non-correspondence between individual deeds and an indi-
vidually assessed YHWH’s divine response to them are not restricted to
the pre-temple period. For instance, the claim in 2 Chron. 36.20-21 con-
cerning the 70 years of exile implies that the fulfillment of a prophecy took
precedence (at least in this case) over the principle of correspondence.16
Another clear illustration of how ‘history’ demonstrates that the principle
of coherence is not always implemented concerns the fate of the ‘seer’ and
some of the righteous people in 2 Chron.16.10, who were persecuted for
their piety. Significantly, the last example points to a trend towards ‘pro-
phetic martyrology’ that is also attested in Chronicles.17
To sum up, according to the Chronicler, ‘history’ and ‘reality’ cannot be
explained only in terms of the principle of coherence of actions and effects.
YHWH’s ways of governing the world consist of more than a rather
mechanical principle of immediate individual retribution. This nuanced
theological position is communicated to the community through a series
of accounts qualifying the possible implicatures of each other.
It is worth noting that the conclusion offered in section 2.1 above only
corroborates what a basic logical analysis of the Chronicler’s claim clearly
shows.18 The proposition ‘all historical events reflect (or can be explained
in terms of) an individually assessed principle of coherence between action
and effect’ is, of course, a kind of categorical proposition, namely the uni-
versal affirmative (hereafter, ‘A’). Hence, one may draw the following
square of opposition
In this square, ‘A’ represents the universal affirmative; ‘E’, the universal
negative (i.e., ‘no historical events reflect an individually assessed principle
of coherence between action and effect’); ‘I’, the particular affirmative (i.e.,
‘there are some historical events that reflect an individually assessed
principle of coherence between action and effect’); and ‘O’, the particular
negative (i.e., ‘there are some historical events that do not reflect an indi-
vidually assessed principle of coherence between action and effect’).
‘A’ and ‘E’ are contraries (i.e., both cannot be true but both can be false);
‘I’ and ‘O’ are subcontraries, (i.e., both can be true but both cannot be
false); ‘A’ and ‘O’ as well as ‘E’ and ‘I’ are contradictory (i.e., both cannot be
true and both cannot be false).
The Chronicler repeatedly documents historical events that reflect, or
can be explained in terms of, an individually assessed principle of coher-
ence between action and effect. That is, the Chronicler claims that ‘I’ is
true, and hence, that ‘E’ must be false. Whether ‘A’ is true or false cannot
be decided on these grounds. But, as shown above, the Chronicler also
reported historical events that cannot be explained in terms of the men-
tioned principle of coherence. That is, the Chronicler showed the commu-
nity that ‘O’ is true, and therefore that ‘A’ is necessarily false.
To sum up, the historical account in Chronicles conveys a clear message
to the community: (a) by stating again and again that there are cases in
which an individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects
is clearly attested (i.e., an ‘O’ type of claim), it refutes the claim that there is
no correspondence (i.e., an ‘A’ type of claim); and (b) by demonstrating
that there are events that cannot be explained in terms of a coherence
between individual actions and God’s response to them (i.e., another ‘O’
type of claim), it refutes the position that such a coherence holds the only
key for the understanding of ‘history’.
True, the Chronicler invested much more effort in refuting the claim
that there is no correspondence between actions and effects at all than in
showing its limitations. One may assume that this reflects the historical
and rhetorical situation. There was probably much more need of persuad-
ing the audience of the existence of such a correspondence than of dem-
onstrating that it may occasionally fail, as common experience and some
biblical passages strongly suggest.19 Moreover, the Chronicler was not
only, or even mainly a ‘theologian’ but a preacher/teacher of ‘practical
truths’. That is, the Chronicler taught the receiving community what they
should do in order to live according to God’s will, and at the same time
encouraged them to do so. It seems more congruent with this purpose to
stress that claims of no correspondence between action and effects are
utterly false, than to emphasize instances of incoherence between the two.
As a preacher/teacher of practical truths, the Chronicler used ‘a manner
calculated to sway the mind’ (cf. Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, IV,
13.12; 19.38). Of course, this manner does not stress the ifs and buts of the
argument supporting the specific teaching lesson. Indeed, the latter are
likely to be mentioned only if they can be successfully refuted (cf. the clas-
sical confutatio or refutatio). Thus, because of the persuasive character of
the individual accounts in Chronicles ‘documenting’ correspondence
between actions and effects (such as this part of the story of Ahaz), these
accounts contain no ifs or buts. Nevertheless, as shown above, they are set
in ‘proper’ perspective by other accounts in Chronicles.20
Returning to the story of Ahaz, the divine response in v. 5 to Ahaz’s
wrongdoings in vv. 2-4 was expected in the story. It serves, together with
similar reports of divine response, the communicative purpose of persuad-
ing the audience that there is a correspondence between individual actions
and individually assessed effects. But one cannot learn from this part of the
story – or from similar stories – that the Chronicler thought, believed, or
wished to teach that this correspondence holds the only possible key for
the understanding of past-events, and by inference, those of the present.
2.2. Concerning Wrong Ways of Learning from Experience/History

The story of Ahaz in vv. 1-5 is resumed in v. 16. Had Ahaz understood that
the reason for his misfortune was his forsaking God and accordingly
repented and changed his behavior as did Rehoboam and Manasseh
(2 Chron. 12.5-7; 33.12-16), a further disaster might have been avoided.21
But Ahaz thought that he was defeated simply because of his military
inferiority. To remedy this, he appealed to Assyria for help. Ahaz is thus

portrayed as understanding history as a human enterprise ruled by worldly
forces. Thus, according to the inner logic of his Realpolitik he made the
best available choice: to ask for Assyrian help (2 Chron. 28.16, see also
v. 21). The subsequent verses in 2 Chronicles inform the audience that
Ahaz was wrong. His humanly-based policy was a total failure: Edomites
invaded and defeated Judah (v. 17);22 Philistines conquered Judean
territory and settled in it (v. 18);23 and even the hired Tiglath-pileser,
instead of fighting against Judah’s enemies,24 came and afflicted Ahaz (vv.
20-21). Ahaz’s policy and his secularized understanding of historical events
were contradicted by experience.
The failure of his policy and his worldly-based understanding of histori-
cal reality opened the door for Ahaz to resort to the divine, but with what
results? Ahaz analyzed his own experience and drew inferences from it. If
Damascus had been victorious, the reason must have been that the gods of
Damascus had actually helped their worshippers. Might they not assist
Ahaz if sacrifices were offered to them? So Ahaz offered sacrifices to the
gods of Damascus (v. 23). The logical inference from this line of thought is
obvious: Which gods are more worthy of being worshipped than the
mighty gods whose power has been tested in history?25 For the Chronicler,
however, history as understood by Ahaz (as this writer describes him)
would only lead to greater apostasy, and indeed the last reported deeds of
Ahaz describe his ultimate apostasy: he destroyed the vessels of the Jeru-
salem temple and closed its doors (vv. 23-25).26
Clearly, for the Chronicler, neither the way of Realpolitik which derives
meaning from past events on the basis of a worldly understanding of his-
torical reality nor the belief that the outcome on the battlefield is the
ultimate empirical test by which human beings should choose which god
deserves to be worshipped has validity. Struggling against these positions,
the Chronicler endeavors to demonstrate that the ‘empirical’ evidence
(that is, the subsequent ‘historical’ events) contradicts these two ways of
deriving meaning from the past.
The account of Ahaz’s days plainly falsifies the way of Realpolitik. The
falsification of the ‘victorious’ god approach is indicated not only by the
denial of burial royal honors (cf. 2 Kgs 16.20 with 2 Chron. 28.27)27 but
also by the description of subsequent events. The last reported acts of
Ahaz were the destruction of the temple vessels, the closing of the doors of
the Jerusalem temple, the building of altars on every corner of Jerusalem,
and the construction of bamot for foreign gods all over Judah (vv. 23-25).
These actions of Ahaz set the scene for the subsequent narrative, the re-
opening of the temple, the re-inauguration of worship in the opening days

of Hezekiah’s rule,28 and the celebration of the event with a great festival,
either Pesach or Succoth (cf. 1 Kings 8; Ezra 3.3-7, 8-13; 6.19-22; see also
2 Kgs 23.21-23). Moreover, joining the reform, the people (including
northern Israelites) carry out the rest of the work, destroying all the
illegitimate cultic centers and their cultic objects (2 Chron. 30.14; 31.1).29
The deeds attributed to Ahaz also set the scene for Hezekiah’s role in the
re-establishment of the divisions of the priests and levites. Hezekiah
assigns them their duties, and provides for their material needs (2 Chron.
31.2-31).30 Thereafter, neither Philistines nor Edomites threaten Judah,
only the mighty Assyrian king, but his army is destroyed and he is killed by
his own sons (2 Chron. 32.21). It is noteworthy that the Chronicler con-
densed into 22 verses the long account of the Assyrian campaign that was
available to him/her (2 Kgs 18.13–19.37) but dedicated three chapters
(more than 80 verses) to the deeds of Hezekiah (and the people) that
preceded the campaign. For him/her, Hezekiah was a great king, the best
king of the divided monarchy, but his grandeur is not to be derived from
his success in war, even if God was behind it. His grandeur is to be derived
from his cultic/religious acts; everything else is subordinate to and results
from them (cf. 2 Chron. 14.2-15; 19.4–20.30). The Chronicler thus distills
a simple example from which people can learn what God desires and the
rules according to which the Deity governs history.
Some further considerations are in order. Ahaz is the worst king of
Judah in Chronicles, a very extreme example of what a sinner may be; yet
the text clearly implies that he is a rational person. What can be the
mindset reflected and communicated by this implicature? What could
the historical community learn about the roots of sinful behavior from
the story of Ahaz? Certainly not that sin is necessarily rooted in emo-
tions,31 nor that it is illogical (cf. Isa. 1.3). Sin, in this story, is associated
either with Ahaz’s rational way of deriving knowledge from the past or
with the basic premises on which his reasoning rested. Since the book of
Chronicles does not reject rational thinking per se, nor propose an alter-
native to it, it is reasonable to assume that the community was asked to
conclude that the cause of Ahaz’s sin rests in his premises.
His first premise concerns Realpolitik, or in general terms a worldly
outlook, which does not take into consideration YHWH’s actions. In this
respect, one may compare Ahaz with Asa in 2 Chron. 14.12, who seeks
(only) the physicians in his illness. In sum, a rational earthly attitude that
does not take into consideration YHWH and which is not linked to an
active ‘seeking’ of YHWH leads to sin (cf. Ps. 111.10; Prov. 9.10).
Ahaz’s second premise is that when one is to choose which god to wor-
ship one should decide on empirical grounds that take into consideration
only the contemporaneous history of Israel. If this were the case, there
would be no reasonable way to decide whether a present situation of
oppression, misfortune, and the like are due to Israel’s sins and YHWH’s
judgment or to the power of other gods who successfully support their
worshippers. The solution to this dilemma is to be found in ‘history’. If
YHWH was able to deliver Israel in the past, the issue is not of YHWH’s
ability (or other gods’ capabilities), but of YHWH’s willingness. The Chroni-
cler ‘demonstrates’ to the receiving community that a survey of Israelite
history shows beyond doubt that YHWH’s willingness is related to Israel’s
seeking YHWH (cf. 1 Chron. 28.9), and obeying YHWH.32
3. King, Elite and ‘Common’ People

Ahaz failed militarily and Judah paid the price for his failure – 120,000 of
her soldiers killed and 200,000 Judeans taken captive (2 Chron. 28.5-8,
16). Since ‘history’ reflects God’s rules, the receiving audience may wonder
whether according to these rules the king’s subjects should die because of
the monarch’s sins. The Chronicler through the account of Ahaz’s days in
2 Chronicles 28 gives a negative answer.33
Many Judeans were killed in these wars, but v. 6 indicates that they died
because ‘they had forsaken YHWH, the God of their fathers’, not simply
because Ahaz forsook God. That is, individual responsibility and individual
punishment are brought to a rare and extreme expression.34 Since those
who died were the sinners,35 it is clear that Maaseiah, the king’s son,36
Azrikam, the nagid of the House, and Elkanah, the second to the king (v. 7)
had also forsaken God. The report of their deaths is uncommon in
Chronicles, and one may assume that the reference is made in order to
indicate that they also were among the sinners.
Thus, according to the Chronicler, not only was Ahaz a sinner but so
too were the highest rank of officers around him, including at least one
member of the royal family, and probably his own son. If ‘House’ refers to
the Jerusalem temple and not the royal palace,37 then the Chronicler
intended the reader to note that the corruption reached into high offices of
the temple.38
Therefore, the king was not alone in his actions, but the ruling elite
behaved like him, as did hundreds of thousands of other Judeans. The
military and political fate of Judah, as a whole, was dependent not only on
the king’s behavior but on a combination of his behavior, the behavior of
his ruling elite, and the behavior of the people, and beyond that any Judean
was personally accountable for his or her acts before God.
This account is also a typical example of the tendency in Chronicles to
describe the (earthly) Judean center of power during the monarchy in
terms of the king, his elite, and to a lesser extent, ‘the people’.39 This
tendency points to limits to the legitimate use of power of the king and to
his personal responsibility vis à vis the entire kingdom. Thus, contrary to
deuteronomistic perspectives that relate the fate of the kingdom to the
(cultic) deeds of the king (e.g., 2 Kgs 24.3), the Chronicler, faithful to an
approach that demonstrates the correspondence of actions of the indi-
vidual and his or her fate, relates it to the deeds of the kings, the elite, and
the ‘common people’.40
But this is not the entire picture, nor can it be. On the one hand, the
kingdom flourishes under good kings – because they are successful kings –
and dwindles under the bad ones – because they are unsuccessful kings.
On the other hand, a prosperous kingdom goes together with an elite and
‘people’ who behave according to YHWH’s will, and conversely an ebbing
kingdom, with an elite and ‘people’ who do not seek God. Thus, in so far
as the Chronicler is consistent with these propositions, this writer is able
to present to his/her audience just two types of monarchical societies.
The first one consists of a wrongdoing king, elite and people, and the
second of a righteous king, elite and people.41 Thus, the Chronicler’s
history implies that during the monarchy, the king was so influential that
the behavior of his subjects closely follows his, and therefore, he strongly
conditions both the fate of the kingdom and the behavior and fate of the
people as individuals.42
This implicature is strongly supported by the Chronicler’s account of
several cases of immediate changes in the attitude of the elite and the
people following the death of the king. For instance, as soon as Hezekiah
replaced Ahaz, the elite and the people had a complete change of heart
(see 2 Chronicles 29–31; see above). Even more dramatic, and perhaps
more significant for the understanding of this aspect of the message of
Chronicles, are the sudden changes of heart in the elite and the people that
immediately follow the death of a wrongdoing king. Even before such a king
is buried, both elite and people recognize that the deceased did not follow
the ways of God, and therefore does not deserve burial honors.43 In this
regard, the Chronicler ‘demonstrates’ that history shows that whenever the
leadership of the bad king vanishes, the Israelites revert to a ‘natural’ rec-
ognition of God’s ways and of the importance of their implementation.44
Thus, the text conveys a clear message to its historical audience: (a) the
Israelites are ‘by nature’ righteous, but because of wrong leadership they
may go astray; (b) the king is only a human but he may influence the
behavior of other humans to a large degree; and (c) no matter how strong
this influence is, the responsibility for the actions of the individual rests on
the individual.45
4. Colossal Numbers: Heroic but Not Discontinuous Past

According to the Chronicler, 200,000 Judeans were brought to Israel as
captives and no less than 120,000 Judean soldiers fell in one day of war
against Israel (2 Chron. 28.6). Although these numbers appear exorbitant,
they are relatively modest if compared to the 500,000 soldiers of Israel
that reportedly fell in the Abijah-Jeroboam war (2 Chron. 13.17), or to the
580,000 soldiers in Asa’s army that fought the 1,000,000 men in the army
of Zerah (2 Chron. 14.7). There is no doubt, however, that such figures do
not match the population of monarchic Judah nor the population of the
Persian province of Yehud. For instance, the population of monarchic
Jerusalem, at its zenith, is estimated at about 25,000 and during the Persian
period at only 5,000.46 Of course, both the Chronicler and the audience
were aware that these are ‘colossal’ numbers.47 Neither the Chronicler nor
the community could have failed to grasp the huge discrepancy between
these numbers and their common experience, and accordingly the ‘unre-
alistic’ note they introduce into the story. Thus, the many references to
these colossal numbers in Chronicles not only conveyed a message to the
community but also call attention to it.
What was the historical-communicative message of this persistent his-
toriographical feature?48 To answer this question, one should consider
both the (relative) paucity of the community within which and for which
the book of Chronicles was composed, and the Chronicler’s claim that the
story represents what happened to the forefathers of the addressees, when
they were living on the same land now inhabited by his/her audience.
While the geographical features of the land remained the same through
the generations, the ‘human’ features are certainly different. The members
of the Chronicler’s audience could not but wonder how tiny is their com-
munity if compared with monarchic Judah. Nevertheless, they are told by
the Chronicler that all the past grandeur was of no help to their ancestors
because God ruled over that ‘crowded’ world according to the same divine
rules which govern their own ‘small’ world. The First Temple period is
presented then as a very remote, ‘heroic’ past,49 but one without heroes. It
was a time in which human beings had to decide between doing God’s will
or rejecting it, and thereafter to bear the consequences of their decision
(e.g., 2 Chron. 12.5-7; 16.7-11). That is, it was a time similar to their own
time.
In sum, the Chronicler taught his/her community that there was indeed
an old ‘heroic’ period, but one that differed only quantitatively from their
own days; certainly not qualitatively. True, there were more people, but
only people who were like them, and above all YHWH who does not
change. The importance of this understanding of the past is quite clear: no
practical lesson can be drawn from history unless one presupposes its basic
uniformity (namely, its continuity) through the ages,50 and in a language
more appropriate to the Chronicler’s own outlook, unless one presupposes
that the principles according to which God governs the world do not
change through the ages.51
5. The Account Concerning the Northern Israelites and its Lessons

Ahaz and many Judeans forsook God but at the same time, their kin in the
north behaved differently. According to 2 Chron. 28.8-15, the northern
tribes took captives from Judah but instead of enslaving them, they freed
the captives and clothed them, gave them food, drink, and sandals and
even anointed them. No booty was taken.
The Chronicler explains this supposedly unexpected behavior52 through
introducing into the story the figure of Oded, a prophet of YHWH, who
was in Samaria and warned his people not to anger YHWH by failing to
behave according to God’s requirements. The story moves then to some of
the heads (chiefs) of Ephraim who acknowledge their sins (v. 13) and to the
people there who agree with them. The report of these actions conveys a
clear meaning: (1) the people of the north were Yahwistic;53 (2) they had
prophets like the southerners;54 (3) their prophets had the same character-
istics as the southerners, that is, they were warning speakers, preachers;55
and (4) the same divine rules, such as warning before punishment, the
possibility of repentance, and accountability before God,56 all applied to
the northerners as well as to the southerners.
Thus, the Chronicler conveys a clear message to the community: there
was no essential difference between the children of the north and the chil-
dren of the south – both were the children of Israel and should worship
the God of Israel.57 Furthermore, both may or may not sin; there is no
naturally inherited tendency to sin. The children of the sinners may
behave differently from their parents or even change their own ways; yet
even a Davidic king may fail, and Ahaz’s behavior demonstrates this prin-
ciple beyond any doubt.
Nevertheless, the Davidic king was the legitimate king. The very exis-
tence of a non-Davidic king in the north was an act of rebellion against
God’s will (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 13.4-5) and those who obeyed him were in
rebellion against YHWH (e.g., 2 Chron. 11.13-16; 13.5-7). Significantly, the
first reference to the Ephraimites living in the north58 in which they are
described as a people who listen to the warning of a prophet/preacher and
seek or come back to YHWH, is the account discussed here (vv. 8-15). In
this report, the ‘heads of Ephraim’ and the people made all the relevant
decisions; they did not ask the permission nor hear the word of the king.
The king of Israel is mentioned for the last time in the book of Chronicles
in vv. 6-7.
As soon as the narrative describes the Israelites in a positive light, that
is, from v. 8 on, the northern king and all his power vanish entirely. Such
synchronization between the disappearance of the rule of the non-Davidic
king over Israel and Israel’s coming back to YHWH is not accidental.
Other post-Jeroboam I references to the Israelites, or to some of them, as
people seeking God, all omit any reference to the king of Israel (2 Chron.
30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1; 34.9) and presuppose the non-existence of the
kingdom of Israel.59
Thus, on the one hand, the author of the book of Chronicles wants to
illustrate a general rule: after the election of the House of David, accepting
the legitimacy of a non-Davidic king over Israel does not go together with
seeking God.60 But on the other hand, the Chronicler describes an Eph-
raimite community, which even if it had sinned before, could, when no
Davidic king rules over it, behave according to God’s will, provided their
members hear the voice of the prophet/preacher.
Clearly, this community resembles in many aspects the living commu-
nity addressed by the Chronicler. Given (a) the communicative character of
the work of the Chronicler (and especially its emphasis on teaching and
preaching), (b) the Chronicler’s stress on the centrality of righteous behav-
ior (including attitude) of every member of the Persian-period Judaic com-
munity,61 and (c) the underlying social importance of the identification of
the living community with the reported image of ancient communities, one
is to conclude that the Chronicler most likely employed this account to
convey some of his/her central messages to the community. The analysis
offered above certainly supports this conclusion. Further study on the
Chronicler’s report of the actions of the northern Israelites buttresses the
case even more, for it shows that this report imparts (by implicature, as
usual in Chronicles) several central theological positions that shed light on
the general religious thought of the Chronicler.
The Chronicler taught the community that no Israelite (including each

and anyone of the addressees) can behave righteously and at the same time
accept a non-Davidic king, because of the election of the House of David.
But, at the same time, the Chronicler communicates to the community
that the presence of a Davidic king is not a necessary condition for
behaving according to YHWH’s will, as clearly ‘demonstrated’ by these
northern Israelites.62
Moreover, it must be noticed that the account in 2 Chron. 28.8-15 clearly
implies that even when a Davidic king is historically present, Israelites who
behave according to God’s will are not necessarily and unconditionally
required to rally round the king. The northern Israelites described here are
kingless, but they do not and are not required by a true prophet to turn to
Ahaz. Although because of the magnitude of the ‘evil’ deeds attributed to
Ahaz, the account deals with an extreme case, it nevertheless points to the
Chronicler’s approach to the figure of the Davidic king in principle. Accord-
ing to this approach, rejecting the authority of a Davidic king cannot
always be seen as rejection of YHWH’s will. On the contrary, such an
action may sometimes even express the acceptance of YHWH’s will. Thus,
the actual (in contrast to the ‘potential’) legitimacy of the rule of the
Davidic king depends on his seeking YHWH and behaving accordingly, as
they were interpreted by the Chronicler.63
The community addressed by the Chronicler lived without a Davidic
king, and Israel had been living without such a king for some generations
before the composition of 1–2 Chronicles.64 The position expressed here
by the Chronicler reassures the historical community of its ability to seek
God and behave in accordance with righteousness. Such a reassurance is
certainly expected because of the emphasis of the Chronicler on right and
wrong behavior; on the responsibility of each individual to choose between
the two; and on the consequences that follow such a choice – all of which
would be irrelevant if the people addressed by the Chronicler were unable
to seek God and behave accordingly; if they had no choice to make.
To summarize, while certainly important, the house of David is not a
necessary condition for the well-being of the Israelites. Eternal election
does not mean necessity of actual presence, it only means that no legiti-
mate replacement can ever exist. The exaltation of David and Solomon is
then put in ‘proper’ perspective.65
A similar situation concerns the election of Jerusalem and the Temple.66
According to our passage, the northern Israelites conclude their actions
not by ‘going up’ to the temple, but by going back to Samaria (v. 15b). In
fact, neither the prophet nor the praiseworthy leaders even mention the
temple. The reason for that seems clear: the reported situation precludes
the ‘going up’ of pious Israelites to Jerusalem to worship, because the
Jerusalemite temple had been polluted by Ahaz, and therefore no righteous
Israelite, northern or southern, could worship there.67 But if this is the
case, then the account ‘demonstrates’ that Israel can seek God and behave
accordingly without the assistance of the temple.
Thus, on the one hand, the Chronicler conveyed many times that the
cult at the temple is extremely important.68 Moreover, the Chronicler’s
idealization of the figure of David (and in close relationship to it, that of
Solomon, the actual builder of the temple) is directly related to David’s
role as the founder of the temple and the temple cult (along with Moses).69
Furthermore, even the third election in Chronicles, namely that of the
Levites70 is directly related to the establishment of the temple cult by
David, and of course, to its continuous existence.
On the other hand, the Chronicler qualified these positions by building
in his/her message a sense of ‘proper’ proportion. Namely, that the temple,
though very important, is not an absolutely essential institution in Israel.
Thus, the eternal election of the temple, and of the Levites for their
specific tasks there, does not mean that their actual presence is an absolute
necessity, but only that there can be no legitimate replacement for them.71
This position should not surprise us, for the Chronicler and the addressed
community knew that there was an inter-temple period in Israel’s history,
and they – especially the Chronicler – could have hardly imagined that dur-
ing this period the Israelites were unable to seek God and behave accord-
ingly, that the inter-temple Israelites had no choice but to err.72
The (northern) Israelites had neither a Davidic king nor a legitimate
temple to worship, but they had a prophet to teach them what they ought
to do. The account emphasizes the importance of the presence of the
prophet of YHWH (see the emphatic opening in v. 9) and clearly points to
his speech as the reason for the change of heart of the northern Israelites.
The account implies that these Israelites would not have behaved in godly
ways if the prophet had not been there to confront the people.
While the prophets fulfill many functions in Chronicles,73 among the
most important is to explain to the members of the community what God
wants them to do, to encourage them to do so, and to bring an awareness
of the consequences that would likely follow any of their choices. This
being the case, from the viewpoint of the community the figure of the
prophet is always secondary to that of the prophet’s teaching. It is the
prophetic teaching of God’s requirements from human beings that is nec-
essary for the well-being of the community, and, accordingly, even non-
prophetic figures (and basically any person in Israel) may occasionally fulfil
the role of the prophet.74 Therefore, the prophetic role is essential to soci-
ety but its fundamental character derives from the fundamental character
of the divine teachings.
Thus, the reason that in Chronicles rejecting the authority and counsel
of the prophet of YHWH leads to divine punishment, but that the same
does not necessarily hold true in respect to a Davidic king or any other
religious/political figure becomes clear: the former implies rejection of
the divine instruction, while the latter does not necessarily imply such
rejection (see Section 5.2).
The northern Israelites – with whom the audience is asked to identify –
are described as complying with YHWH’s will not because they came to
the temple to worship, but because they freed the captive, fed the hungry,
watered the thirsty, and clothed the naked.75
Needless to say, this text in Chronicles does not promote a religion
without ‘cult’. Because of the circumstances in which these Israelites re-
portedly found themselves, no ‘cultic’ concerns could have been addressed
in 2 Chron. 28.9-15. But, in any case, the Chronicler conceived a society
that behaves righteously even when no ‘cultic’ actions can be legitimately
performed (see Section 5.3). It is worth noting that such a society is
described in terms of actions such as freeing the captive, feeding the hun-
gry, and the like.
The prophetic teaching is valuable because it is considered to reflect
God’s positions vis à vis the choices that face a ‘historical’ community in
particular circumstances. But God’s requirements from human beings are
not arbitrary. If they were, there would be no point in studying God’s
requirements in the past, and people would be completely dependent on
‘new revelations’ through living prophets. Certainly, the Chronicler did not
assume that God’s requirements are arbitrary. Instead, he/she claimed that
they fall into a coherent pattern, and therefore, to a certain extent are
predictable. In other words, that knowledge about God’s requirements is at
least potentially available to everyone who seeks God and God’s advice and
accordingly sets out to learn these requirements. One may conclude,
therefore, that what is absolutely necessary for the existence of a righteous
Israelite community is neither the Temple nor the Davidic king, nor even a
prophet, but knowledge of the corpus of YHWH’s requirements from
Israel, namely the Torah of YHWH in its wider sense.
Significantly, the Chronicler’s basic premise is that ‘history’ is the result
of the interaction between human and divine actions, and therefore, if
patterns can be discerned in the interaction, then the rules (or, perhaps
guidelines) according to which God governs the world can be abstracted
from an analysis of the historical past.76 Within the theological thought of

the Chronicler, the knowledge derived in this form would not stand instead
of, but as a further contribution to the existent communal knowledge of
YHWH’s requirements and attributes which is based not only on the lit-
erature considered to be authoritative by the Chronicler and his/her
community (i.e., the Pentateuch) but also on its interpretation/s.77 It is the
resultant enlarged corpus of knowledge about God and God’s require-
ments, this Torah, that the Chronicler considered to be essential for the
establishment of a positive relationship between God and the members of
the community.78
Turning to the Chronicler as a ‘producer’ and teacher of the knowledge
about YHWH that can be derived from ‘history’, such a writer would fulfil
a role similar to that of the ancient prophet.79 Certainly, the Chronicler as
a human person did not consider himself/herself as essential to the exis-
tence of a righteous community of Israelites. After all, the Chronicler is a
mortal, and Israelite communities were supposed to be able to know God’s
requirements and follow them before the Chronicler’s birth and after
his/her death. Nor is it reasonable to assume that the Chronicler thought
that ‘historians’ in his/her image were absolutely necessary, for it would be
difficult to believe that he/she envisaged people writing works such as
Chronicles in every generation. But, given the essential character the
Chronicler ascribed to the Torah of YHWH (in its wider sense), it seems
reasonable to assume that this theologian considered the interpreters,
teachers, and preachers of this Torah, that is, those who fulfilled this pro-
phetic role, as an absolutely necessary element for the development of the
correct relationship between the people as individuals and God, and con-
sequently, for the establishment of a righteous society composed of
righteous people.
6. Conclusions
The account of the reign of Ahaz in the Book of Chronicles (2 Chron. 28.1-
27) can be considered as a paradigm of the Chronicler’s thought. It is most
useful as a kind of gateway that leads to a better understanding of the
Chronicler’s thought. This account illustrates the Chronicler’s method of
deriving knowledge about the rules according to which God controls and
regulates history, and some of the main results of the Chronicler’s method.
The Chronicler’s account of the reign of Ahaz clearly shows that the ‘his-
torical’ lessons that the Chronicler wanted to teach the addressed com-
munity were integral to the real conditions in which both author and
audience lived and as such should be understood. For instance, the

question of whether Israel can live in accordance with God’s will without
a Davidic king is unequivocally answered. No matter how much the Chroni-
cler glorifies David, Israel can live in accordance with YHWH’s will
without having a Davidic king (i.e., without changing the basic social-
political circumstances of the Chronicler’s historical community), pro-
vided that there is someone who teaches the people what constitutes the
divine will.
The present analysis pointed to several important lessons that the
Chronicler wished the receiving community to abstract from his/her ‘his-
torical’ account. Among them one may mention:
(a) the existence of a correspondence between actions and effects that
is maintained by God, according to certain rules and qualifications;
(b) the continuity of history through time due to the permanent charac-
ter of both God’s rules for governing the world and the human choice to
accept or reject God’s will;
(c) the godly character of freeing the captive, feeding the hungry, and
the like;
(d) the actual meaning of divine elections;
(e) sin is not necessarily related to an irrational attitude; a rational
earthly attitude that does not take into consideration YHWH and which is
not linked to an active ‘seeking’ of YHWH leads to sin (cf. Ps. 111.10; Prov.
9.10);
(f) the importance but not absolute necessity of the existence of a
Davidic king for developing a positive relation between YHWH and Israel,
and between YHWH and each individual Israelite;
(g) the importance but not absolute necessity of the existence of the
Temple for developing a positive relation between YHWH and Israel, and
between YHWH and each individual Israelite;
(h) the absolute necessity of the knowledge of the Torah (in its wider
sense), and accordingly of the work of its interpreters and teachers – such
as the Chronicler – for developing a positive relation between YHWH and
Israel, and between YHWH and each individual Israelite.
This paper also sheds light into the Chronicler’s teaching/preaching
method. It demonstrates that the nuanced theology of the Chronicler was
communicated to the audience through separate accounts qualifying each
other. The lessons abstracted from the separate ‘historical’ accounts were
thus set in ‘proper’ theological perspective.
In addition, this paper illustrates the character of the educational
religious literature of the period. This literature was not written according
to an ‘essayist’ model, in which the text consists of an explicitation of

information and logical relationships. The book of Chronicles was written
to develop knowledge by means of communal reading and interpreting,
and accordingly, most of its messages are not in the form of explicit logical
claims but that of implied knowledge ‘waiting’ to be ‘discovered’ by the
learning community.80
Excursus
The position offered here solves the problem that had continually beset
the dating of 1–2 Chronicles to the fourth century or later, namely that
this dating does not provide the most likely historical background for the
writing and teaching of a book supporting both the re-establishment of
the Davidic monarchy and of the temple. The argument advanced here
demonstrates that the book of Chronicles is not a piece of propaganda
calling for the re-establishment of the Davidic monarchy, in the here and
now.
Moreover, it is worth noting that the Chronicler did not consider the
re-establishment of the temple as necessarily related to the re-establishment
of the Davidic monarchy. True, the Chronicler thought of David as a
founder of the temple cult, of Solomon as the builder of the temple, and
of Hezekiah as the king who re-consecrated the temple. Moreover, the
Chronicler certainly maintained that the temple cult ought to follow David’s
ordinances. But the Chronicler lived in the Second Temple period and did
not reject that temple. That is, a temple that was considered to be re-
established by the initiative of God, but through the actions of Persian
kings, who fulfilled in this case the role of the Davidic kings in the
monarchic period (see 2 Chron. 36.23; even if for the sake of the argument
one accepts that this verse is a late addition, the undeniable fact remains
that the Chronicler and the historical audience knew that their temple was
built ‘by’ a Persian king).
Against this background, the theme of the Davidic election conveys two
negative claims: (a) no non-Davidic Israelite leader in the province of
Yehud can legitimately claim kingship, and (b) although Persian kings may
fulfill important Davidic roles, and the community may accept their rule
without transgressing YHWH’s will, these kings are not to be considered
as human representatives of the ‘kingdom of YHWH’ over Israel (see
1 Chron. 17.14; 28.5; 29.23; 2 Chron. 9.8; 13.8),81 since such a role can be
fulfilled only by the House of David (contrast with Isa. 44.28, and esp.
45.21, as well as with Isa. 55.3 which ‘democratizes’ the Davidic election).82
One may note that the argument presented here does not support the
idea that the rule of a Davidic king is conceived as necessarily incompatible
with the (over)rule of a Persian king. Thus, the question concerning the
expected roles of the Davidic king in the Second Temple period remains
open. One possible answer is that the Davidic king was conceived as a
powerful independent monarch who will re-establish the kingdom of Israel
as it was in the Davidic–Solomonic period. But another possible answer is
that this king was envisaged as an Ezekielian ‫ נשׂיא‬or as an archon, as was
understood by some Jews during the Hellenistic period.83 The Chronicler’s
addition to the deuteronomistic history in 2 Chron. 36.13a (cf. Ezek. 17.11-
21), the positive note concerning the Persian king in 2 Chron. 36.22-23,
and together with the fact that the last two godly addresses to Israel, or to
Israelites, in Chronicles are put in the mouth of two foreign hegemonic
kings (2 Chron. 35.21; 36.23) suggest that the Chronicler was more inclined
to the second alternative than to the first.84 The issue, however, stands
beyond the scope of this paper, and deserves a study of its own.
Endnotes
* This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘A
Gateway to the Chronicler’s Teaching: The Account of the Reign of Ahaz in 2 Chr
28,1-27’, SJOT 7 (1993), pp. 216-49. I wish to express my gratitude to The Scandinavian
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament for allowing me to republish this essay in the
present volume.
1. P.R. Ackroyd, ‘The Theology of the Chronicler’, LTQ 8 (1973), pp. 101-16, esp.
104.
2. By the Chronicler I mean the author (or authors) of the Book of Chronicles.
(Note: At the time of writing the original version of this contribution I still thought that
I was analyzing the actual author or authors. Later I became aware that, in fact, I was
dealing with the implied author of Chronicles all along.)
It would be unnecessary here to recapitulate the well-known, ongoing controversy
concerning the proposal of single authorship (or unity of compilation) of Chronicles
and Ezra-Nehemiah. For ‘classical’ works on this subject see, for instance, S. Japhet,
‘The Supposed Common Authorship of Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah Investigated
Anew’, VT (1968); H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 330-71, and F.M. Cross, ‘A Reconstruction of
the Judean Restoration’, JBL 94 (1975), pp. 4-18. (Given the extensive writing on
Chronicles in modern research and the scope of a scholarly article, there is no attempt
in this work to provide a comprehensive bibliography; the bibliographical references
mentioned in this article should be understood as merely illustrative.)
In fairness to Ackroyd, one must mention that in the quotation opening this article,
he considered the Chronicler to be the author or compiler of Ezra, Nehemiah and 1–2
Chronicles (Ackroyd, ‘Theology of the Chronicler’, pp. 102-103), but he would cer-
tainly agree that his remarks relate as well to the Chronicler had he considered the
Chronicler to be the author of a separate book of Chronicles. For a more recent

statement of Ackroyd’s position, see P.R. Ackroyd, ‘The Historical Literature’, in D.A.
Knight and G.M. Tucker (eds.), The Hebrew Bible and its Modern Interpreters (Phila-
delphia and Chico: Fortress Press, 1985), pp. 297-323, esp. 307.
3. Because of the gender structure of the society in which the Book of Chronicles
was composed, it seems most likely that the Chronicler was male. Nevertheless the use
of male pronouns when referring to the Chronicler may suggest – especially in modern
English discourse – that female authorship of religious texts such as Chronicles is an
absolute impossibility. Accordingly, I will use neutral pronominal forms, such as he/she
and the like.
4. This approach has been chosen because of some methodological advantages.
To begin with, a study focused on one paradigmatic account may effectively show the
way in which important theological tenets of the Chronicler, as abstracted from a
representative series of accounts, interact with each other. Therefore, it suits better
the task of reconstructing what the text communicated to its historical community
than studies arranged according to thematic rubrics, such as ‘the Davidic election (or
covenant)’ or ‘the principle of immediate retribution’. After all, it is certain that the
community was asked to read and learn a series of related accounts and not a (system-
atic) theological treatise (cf. S. McEvenue, Interpreting the Pentateuch [Collegeville,
MN: Liturgical Press, 1990], p. 38). A second advantage of this approach is that the
focusing of the discussion on one paradigmatic account renders a meaningful study of
the Chronicler’s thought manageable within the limits of a journal article (cf. D.G.
Deboys, ‘History and Theology in the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah’, Bib 71 [1990],
pp. 48-62, esp. 49).
5. The reference to the Davidic–Solomonic period as a watershed needs to be
explained. According to the Chronicler, the election of the House of David was
established forever at the Davidic–Solomonic period. Both David and Solomon have a
foundational role in this respect. See H.G.M. Williamson, ‘The Dynastic Oracle in the
Books of Chronicles’, in Y. Zakovitch and A. Rofé (eds.), I.L. Seeligman Volume
(Jerusalem: Hotsa’at Elhanan Rubinshtayn, 1983), pp. 305-18; idem, ‘Eschatology in
Chronicles’, TynB 28 (1977), pp. 115-54. Significantly, Hezekiah, whose reign is pre-
sented as a kind of ‘restoration’ of the Davidic–Solomonic period, is compared with
both David and Solomon (see M.A. Throntveit, When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and
Royal Prayer in Chronicles (SBLDS, 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), pp. 121-24).
Concerning the relation between the accounts of David and of Solomon, see also
R. Braun, 1 Chronicles (WCB, 14; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1986), pp. xxxii-xxxv. For
the position that Hezekiah is ‘einen zweiten David’ (but not a second Solomon) see
R. Mosis, Untersuchungen zur Theologie des chronistischen Geschichtswerkes (FTS, 92;
Freiburg: Herder, 1973), pp.189-92; for the position that Hezekiah is described as a
second Solomon, see, for instance, H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 119-25. On the basis of 2 Chron.
32.7-8, several scholars have argued that the Chronicler identified Hezekiah with the
ideal Davidic king, Immanuel (see J.M. Myers, 1 Chronicles (AB, 12; Garden City, NY:
Doubleday, 1965), p. 187; A. Laato, ‘Hezekiah and the Assyrian Crisis in 701 B.C.’, SJOT
2 (1987), pp. 49-68, esp. 67). On some of these matters see, recently, M.A. Throntveit,
‘The Relationship of Hezekiah to David and Solomon in the Books of Chronicles’, in
M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian:
Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp.
105-21.
6. It is also noteworthy that the story of the rising of the new era (that of the ‘re-
united monarchy’) begins immediately after 2 Chron. 28.1-27, in 2 Chron. 29.1-4. Cf.
Throntveit, When Kings Speak, pp. 113-25. On the relation between Abijah’s speech
and the account in 2 Chron. 28, see also n. 11. (Note: Later I came to the conclusion
that in Chronicles there is no ‘re-united monarchy’, though to be sure, the Jerusalemite
center is characterized as more able to properly socialize Northern Israel into Israel
following the fall of the northern monarchy. On these matters see Chapters 6 and 10.)
7. On methodological issues related to the use of concepts such as intentions,
motives (to be distinguished from ‘intentions’) and implicatures for historical-critical
biblical exegesis, see M.G. Brett, ‘Motives and Intentions in Genesis I’, JTS 42 (1991),
pp. 1-16.
8. For the theoretical basis of this approach, see, for instance, S.C. Levinson,
Pragmatics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983). See also M.G. Brett,
‘Motives’. Following Brett, I will use the term ‘implicatures’, rather than ‘implications’,
to underscore the difference between conveying meanings through indirect communi-
cation and deriving knowledge through strictly logical ‘implications’. See Brett,
‘Motives’, p. 10. According to Hirsch’s terminology, the study delineated here deals
with the ‘original significance’ of these accounts, and of Chronicles in general. See
E.D. Hirsch, Jr, The Aims of Interpretation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1976), pp. 85-87, 146.
9. The account parallels the report on Ahaz in 2 Kings only in its opening and clos-
ing notes and in both cases only partially. It differs from the latter in its reconstruction
of the Syro-Ephraimite crisis, the nature of the Assyrian intervention, and the actions
of Ahaz concerning the temple in Jerusalem. In addition, it introduces entirely new
elements. For a short summary of the main differences, see, e.g., R. Mason, Preaching
the Tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 91-92.
10. This comparison suggests that accusations that Abijah brought against Israel
according to 2 Chron. 13.8-9 are partially applicable to Judah during the reign of Ahaz.
See Williamson, Israel, p. 115; idem, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI:
Eerdmans, 1982), p. 344; R.B. Dillard, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Waco, TX: Word Books,
1987), p. 221.
11. ‘Sons’ and not ‘son’ as in the parallel account in 2 Kgs 16.3 (only GL reads ‘sons’
as Chronicles here). A similar case occurs in 2 Chron. 33.6. There the Chronicler’s
account reads ‘sons’ instead of ‘son’ as in the parallel account in 2 Kgs 21.6 (so MT; the
LXX reads ‘sons’). The MT in 2 Chron. 28.3 reads ׁ‫ויבער את בניו באש‬, the LXX, the
Targum, and the Peshitta point to an alternative Hebrew reading, ‫ויעבר את בניו באשׁ‬.
According to L.C. Allen The Greek Chronicles. I. The Translator’s Craft (SVT, 25;
2 vols.; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1977), p. 210) the MT reading is the original; W. Rudolph
(Chronikbücher [HAT: Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955], p. 288) considers
both alternatives as possibly original readings. Dillard suggests that the difference does
not represent a tendentious change from singular to plural but rather a difference
between plene and defectiva orthography. See Dillard, 2 Chronicles, p. 218.
12. That is the so-called ‘theology of retribution’ of the Chronicler. Of course, the
term ‘retribution’ has negative connotations and unduly limits the scope of the Chroni-
cler’s theological position (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 17.1-5; 27.6). The terminology used here
follows B.S. Childs (Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture [Philadelphia:
Fortress Press, 1979], pp. 651-53). See also R.B. Dillard, ‘Reward and Punishment in
Chronicles: The Theology of Immediate Retribution’, WTJ 46 (1984), pp. 164-72 (165
n. 2). (Note: On these matters, see esp. Chapter 8). It is well-known that the Chronicler
understood the principle of the correspondence between actions and effects at the
individual level (i.e., individual actions lead to individual rewards or punishments
depending on the nature of the action). See, e.g., J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the
History of Israel (Cleveland and New York: Meridian Books, 1961), pp. 203-10; and
S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought
(BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 162-65.
13. See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 191-98.
14. It is worth noting that there is no evidentiary independent basis for the validity of
the mentioned premise. Not only that this premise is necessary for the rejection of the
‘plain’ interpretation of 1 Chron. 21.14, which by itself would contradict the premise,
but also there are other texts in Chronicles that contradict it, as shown in this article.
This is not to deny, of course, that the Chronicler pointed to numerous ‘historical’
events that were ‘governed’ by mentioned coherence between actions and effects. See
below, and cf. 2.1.
15. It leads to YHWH’s designation of the threshold of Ornan as the place for
YHWH’s altar and Temple. See, e.g., Braun, 1 Chronicles, p. 218; Williamson, 1 and 2
Chronicles, pp. 150-51.
16. On 2 Chron. 36.20-21, see M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 480-81; on the importance of the fulfilling of
prophecies in Chroniclers, see Y. Kaufmann, The History of the Israelite Religion (4
vols.; Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 1936–37, 1955–56; Hebrew), IV, p. 459.
17. See A. Rofé, The Prophetical Stories (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1988), pp. 197-
213, esp. 205.
18. For the syllogistic logic used in the following discussion, see, e.g., H. Kahane,
Logic and Philosophy (Belmont: Wadsworth, 1978), pp. 191-96.
19. See, e.g., Zeph. 1.12; Pss. 10.4, 11, 13; 14.1 = 53.2; Mal. 2.17.
20. A ‘sense of proportion’ (some would say of ‘realism’) is also a part and parcel of
the Chronicler’s teaching. See Chapter 8.
21. For the role of repentance in the general concept of the coherence between
action and effect maintained by the Chronicler see, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp. 176-91;
H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 31-33; Braun, 1 Chronicles, pp. xxxvii-xl.
22. The Edomite (reading Edomite instead of Aramean; see, e.g., G.H. Jones, 1 and
2 Kings [NCB; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984], pp. 535-36) actions mentioned
in 2 Kgs 16.6 were probably restricted to Elath. For the importance of Elath, see J.R.
Bartlett, Edom and the Edomites (JSOTSup, 77; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press,
1989), pp. 127-28; see also p. 40.
23. The list of cities mentioned in 2 Chron. 28.18 fits better the geographical extent
of the Persian province of Yehud than monarchic Judah in the days of Ahaz, for at least
Aijalon, and especially Gimzo were probably not within the historical realm of Ahaz’s
kingdom. A thorough study of the list stands beyond the scope of this paper. For a
different position concerning the historicity of the account, see R.W. Doermann,
‘Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation: Tell el Hesi’, in L.G. Perdue, L.E. Tombs and
G.L. Johnson (eds.), Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation: Essays in Memory of D.G.
Rose (Atlanta:, John Knox Press, 1987), pp. 129-46.
24. Cf. the different approach in 2 Kgs 16.9
25. Significantly, the reference to the fall of Damascus in 2 Kgs 16.9 is omitted in the
Chronicler’s account of Ahaz’s days.
26. The account of Ahaz’s reign in 2 Kings 16 contains no reference to these actions.
27. For a similar denial of royal burial honors see 2 Chron. 21.20 and cf. 2 Kgs 8.24,
where the king was Jehoram of Judah; 2 Chron. 22.9 (cf. 2 Kgs 9.28) which refers to
Ahaziah of Judah; and 2 Chron. 24.25, which refers to Jehoash of Judah. That the denial
of royal honors occurs in concurrence with divine judgment was noted by Wellhausen
(Prolegomena, p. 205), among others.
28. Significantly, the text in 2 Kings fails to mention either that Ahaz closed the
Jerusalem temple or that Hezekiah opened its doors and re-established the cult.
29. According to 2 Chron. 30.14; 31.1 the people (including northern Israelites, see
below) destroyed the illegitimate cultic centers in Jerusalem, Judah, Benjamin, Ephraim
and Manasseh. For a different report, see 2 Kgs 18.4.
30. Hezekiah’s image in 2 Chronicles is to some extent parallel to Solomon’s image
(see n. 6). Significantly, this parallelism is possible only because of the deeds ascribed to
Ahaz. On the image of Solomon in Chronicles see R.K. Duke, The Persuasive Appeal of
the Chronicler: A Rhetorical Analysis (BLS, 25; JSOTSup, 88; Sheffield: Almond Press,
1990), pp. 63-66. For Solomon/Hezekiah see Williamson, Israel, pp. 119-25; idem,
1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 350-51, passim, cf. M.A. Throntveit, ‘Hezekiah in the Books of
Chronicles’, SBLSP 27 (1988), pp. 302-11; and see recently, idem, ‘Relationship of
Hezekiah to David and Solomon’.
31. Significantly, there is no description of Ahaz’s emotions in Chronicles. Of
course, by presenting ‘historical’ cases in which sin was not rooted in emotions, the
Chronicler does not attempt to rule emotions out as a possible source for sinning. In
fact, the Chronicler taught his/her audience that there were ‘historical’ cases in which
emotions drove even righteous people away from YHWH’s ways (e.g., 2 Chron. 26.16;
32.25). This is another case of a main rule in the Chronicler’s exposition: whenever this
writer ‘documents’ fulfillments of a certain principle/feature in history, he/she does not
claim that alternative principles/features may not be fulfilled (cf. section 2.1, and n. 43).
Moreover, to make the point ‘fool-proof’, the Chronicler tends to communicate the
intended proper perspective by contrasting the messages of different accounts. E.g.,
while the Chronicler described Ahaz as a ‘logical’ thinker, this writer explicitly pointed
out that kings may behave illogically (see 2 Chron. 25.14-15).
32. On the meaning of ‫( דרשׁ‬i.e., ‘seek’) in 1 Chron. 28.9, see J.G. McConville,
‘1 Chronicles 28.9: YAHWEH “Seeks Out” Solomon’, JTS 37 (1986), pp. 105-108. The
analysis offered in Section 2.1 shows that this relation on the one hand points to an
image of a ‘predictable’ God but on the other hand does not turn into a ‘mechanical’
divine rule for governing the world that devoids God of God’s freedom.
33. According to the principle of coherence between actions and effects that
characterizes the Chronicler’s thought (i.e., the so-called principle of individual
retribution). See, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp. 162-65; Dillard, 2 Chronicles, pp. 76-81. See
Section 2.1.
34. 2 Macc. 12.40 represents a comparable case.
35. It is worth noting that the king, however, was not killed in battle. Premature
death is a kind of divine punishment (e.g., 1 Chron. 2.3; 10.14), but it is not the only
punishment available to God: Rehoboam was punished with war (2 Chron. 12.1-5),
Asa with war and later with illness (2 Chron. 16.9, 12), and Manasseh was taken captive
(2 Chron. 33.9-11). Cf. Wellhausen’s outline of the Chronicler’s history of the monar-
chic period (Wellhausen, Prolegomena, pp. 203-207). Obviously, had God ‘executed’ all
the sinners, or even only the worse among them, repentance would have been pre-
empted, or at least severely restricted. According to the Chronicler, history illustrates
both principles: (a) premature death occurs because of the sins of the deceased and it
cannot be otherwise in a system based on personal retribution in this world, and (b) the
possibility of repentance exists for all including the worse sinners. Some of them, like
Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.12-16), turn from sin, amend their lives, and are blessed by
God; others, like Ahaz, keep rejecting God’s ways.
36. For the controversy about the real meaning of the title ‫ בן המלך‬in the mon-
archic period, see A. Lemaire, ‘Note sur le titre “BN HMLK” dans l’ancien Israel’,
Semitica 29 (1979), pp. 59-65 and the bibliography mentioned there. Because of its
contextual meaning, ‫ בן המלך‬2 Chron. 28.7 cannot be understood as pointing to a low-
rank officer.
37. The title ‫ נגיד בית האלהים‬occurs in Neh. 11.11 (//1 Chron. 9.11); 2 Chron.
31.13; 35.8. It was a title known in the Second Temple period. It is true that the normal
language for the Jerusalem temple in 1–2 Chronicles is ‫ בית יהוה‬or ‫ בית אלהינו‬and
not simply ‫( בית‬for ‫ יהוה מקדשׁ‬see 1 Chron. 22.19; 2 Chron. 30.8; for ׁ‫ יהוה היכל‬see
2 Chron. 26.16; 27.2; 29.16) but when there was a slight possibility that the word
‘House’ meaning palace might be mistakenly understood as the Jerusalem temple, the
author changed the original ‫ על הבית‬of his/her source (2 Kgs 15.5) to ‫על בית המלך‬
(2 Chron. 26.21). For the proposal that ‘House’ refers to the royal palace, see R. de
Vaux, Les institutions de l’Ancient Testament (2 vols.; Paris: Cerf, 1961), I, p. 199.
38. Significantly, Uriah, the priest, is not mentioned; cf. 2 Kgs 16.10-16.
39. E.g., 1 Chron. 15.25 (cf. 2 Sam. 6.12); 2 Chron. 12.5-6; 20.14-15, 21; 21.9 (cf.
2 Kgs 8.21); 22.8-9 (cf. 2 Kgs 9.27); 30.2-5; 32.3; 33.10-11. See, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp.
416-28, and Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, pp. 157-59. Following a remark made by
Fishbane, it is worth noting that sacerdotal figures are not explicitly mentioned, even
when the decisions to be made refer to cultic issues, as in 2 Chron. 30.2-5 (cf. Japhet,
Ideology, p. 441).
40. Such an approach is similar to that of dtr-N.
41. Of course, this description does not imply that there is no room for a few right-
eous people in a society of the first type. In fact, according to the Chronicler’s principle
of ‘warning before punishment’ (see E. Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last of the
Maccabees: Foundations of Postbiblical Judaism [New York: Schocken Books, 1962],
p. 26, and especially Japhet, Ideology, pp. 176-91), there is a need of God-fearing
individuals who admonish the king, the elite and the people, and warn them that their
ways lead to divine judgment, then (and in many cases only then) if they consciously
make the wrong choice they are punished (e.g., 2 Chron. 24.19-25). Of course, if the
king, his elite and the people repent, then the described society turns into one of the
second type (e.g., 2 Chron. 12.5-14).
42. As expected, the Chronicler demonstrates that also this feature, though widely
supported by ‘history’, is not always attested. In 2 Chron. 16.10, the Chronicler points
to righteous people who do stand against a wrongdoing king and his ‘influence’. The
Chronicler may well be considered a ‘hammering’ teacher but hardly a dogmatic
thinker. (Note: Later I came to understand that the book of Chronicles as a whole
conveys its theology through sets of reports that if read separately would have com-
municated positions that are on the surface at odds. Chronicles advances a balanced
both-and [as opposed to either-or] theology shaped around multiple positions and
reports informing each other.)
43. See n. 28.
44. Significantly, the opposite situation, namely that a ‘good king’ died and was
buried without the expected honors because the elite and the people changed their
heart and decided to forsake YHWH, is not attested in Chronicles.
45. Statement (a) is qualified by the Chronicler through a series of texts that parallel
the bamot notes in Kings. According to some of these texts, even during the reign of
pious kings, the people did not worship God as they were supposed to. See 2 Chron.
20.32-33 (cf. 1 Kgs 22.43-44) and 2 Chron. 27.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.34-35); but note that
2 Chron. 25.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.3-4) and 2 Chron. 26.4 (cf. 2 Kgs 15.3-4) differ. That the
conveyed meaning of Chronicles is that the Davidic king is human but certainly not a
‘regular’ human stands in certain tension with Japhet, Ideology, p. 428.
46. Based on 40-50 inhabitants per dunam. See, M. Broshi, ‘La population de
l’ancienne Jerusalem’, RB 82 (1975), pp. 5-14. For the population of Judah and
Jerusalem during the monarchic period, see Y. Shilo, ‘The Population of Iron Age
Palestine in the Light of a Sample Analysis of Urban Plans, Areas, and Population
Density’, BASOR 239 (1980), pp. 25-35, esp. 30-33. (Note: Even these estimates were
eventually shown to be too ‘generous’. For newer and better estimates see C.E. Carter,
The Emergence of Yehud in the Persian Period: A Social and Demographic Study
[JSOTSup, 294; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999], and O. Lipschits, ‘Demo-
graphic Changes in Judah between the Seventh and the Fifth Centuries B.C.E.’, in
O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp [eds.], Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian
Period [Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003], pp. 323-76.) One can also compare these
figures with the little more than 20,000 soldiers in Hadadezer’s army at Karkar. Ahab’s
army at Karkar was even less numerous. The large Egyptian armies that fought against
the Persian empire in the fourth century had ‘only’ about 100,000 soldiers (see K.A.
Kitchen, The Third Intermediate Period in Egypt [Warminster: Aris & Phillips Ltd,
1973], p. 295 n. 289).
47. There have been many attempts to deny the colossal magnitude of these num-
bers by understanding the MT ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬as a ‘military unit’, an ‘officer’, or a ‘professional,
fully-armed soldier’. E.g., J.W. Wenham, ‘Large Numbers in the Old Testament’, TynB
18 (1967), pp. 19-53. Significantly, none of the versions understood ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬in such a way,
nor are there clear biblical instances which require this meaning, unless one assumes
that the figures given in a biblical text must mirror historical reality. On the other hand,
there are several texts in which at the very least in their present form, ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬can only
mean ‘thousand’ (e.g., Num. 26.5-51; 31.25-46; Jer. 52.28-29), as simple mathematics
demonstrates. As to the question of how the Chronicler and his/her audience understood
the term ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬, it is unreasonable to reject an attested meaning (especially since at least
some of the evidence comes from post-monarchic texts) in favor of an unattested one.
48. Of course, this feature is attested in other biblical books. The purpose of the
present discussion is, however, restricted to the communicative purpose of these
numbers in the book of Chronicles.
49. The image of an ‘heroic’ past, in which people were stronger, or lived longer or
the like than regular people is a common-place in many cultures.
50. Cf. Thucydides (The Peloponnesian War 1.22): ‘but whoever shall wish to have a
clear view both of the events which have happened and of those which will some day, in
all human probability, happen again in the same or a similar way – for these to adjudge
my history profitable will be enough for me. And, indeed, it has been composed, not
as a prize-essay to be heard for the moment, but as a possession for all time’ (trans.
C.F. Smith; Thucydides [LCL; 4 vols.; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1928]). Of
course, as Wiedemann has clearly expressed, Thucydides does not imply ‘that he
believes that history is pre-determined or “cyclical”, with identical events (such as wars)
inevitably repeated at regular intervals. It is nature (Gk. physis) which remains the
same, and consequently human beings react to events in a broadly similar ways’
(T. Wiedemann, Thucydides. The Peloponnesian War. Book I–Book II, ch. 65 [Bristol:
Bristol Classical Press, 1985], p. 21). Insofar as the Chronicler is concerned, what
remains the same is YHWH’s rules for governing the world and the human potential to
choose between right and wrong. Hence, because of the principle of continuity, the
account of past events is a profitable endeavor from which one can learn about
YHWH’s rules and their implementation in the world, human nature and their
inherent choices, the most likely results of human actions, and accordingly, what a
sound human choice is. Needless to say, it is reasonable to assume that the more one
stresses the element of consistency in both the divine and the human behavior through
the ages, the less weight one tends to put on the kind of eschatological expectations
that imply an abrupt change in the ‘observed’ or real divine behavior and in the human
condition. Cf. Japhet, Ideology, pp. 501-502. To be sure, this position is not incom-
patible with the Chronicler’s hope of a Davidic restoration; rather it brings a sense of
proportion to the actual weight of such a hope in the Chronicler’s communal teaching.
51. The priority that the Chronicler gave to continuity through history is coherent
with his/her understanding of the ‘book of the Torah’, as given to Moses and binding
(through interpretation) since then (see 2 Chron. 32.14; cf. J.R. Shaver, Torah and the
Chronicler’s History Work [BJS, 196; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989], pp. 77-128). Even
crucial historical events that are time – and place – dependent, such as the estab-
lishment of the temple, are interpreted in a way that de-emphasizes the break in
continuity. For instance, the establishment of the temple is the implementation of the
principle of centralization of the cult which was considered to be binding throughout
Israelite history (see, e.g., Kaufmann, History, IV, pp. 471-73). For another illustration
of this tendency, see n. 73.
52. See 2 Chron. 13.4-9; 25.6-7, 13; not to mention how the Chronicler described the
fate of those defeated in war (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 14.11-14; 20.22-25; 25.11-12).
53. Cf. 2 Chron. 30.18; 31.1. Cf. T. Willi, Die Chronik als Auslegung (FRLANT, 106;
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972), pp. 190-93, 221-22. The literary emphasis
on YHWH, on the relation between YHWH and the northern Israelites (see the ex-
pressions ‘YHWH, the God of your fathers’ and ‘YHWH, your God’), and on the
‘brotherhood’ between Israelites and Judahites, in vv. 9-11 is undeniable.
54. Another example is, of course, the reference to Elijah. The Chronicler mentions
only his letter to (or better against) Jehoram, king of Judah (2 Chron. 21.12-20);
however, even through this letter the Chronicler clearly conveys the idea that Elijah
strongly condemned the policies of the kings of Israel (see v. 12). See below.
55. Their role is similar to that of the prophets in 2 Kgs 17.13-14; 21.8-9 (dtr-N) and
Zech. 1.4.
56. See Japhet, Ideology, esp. pp. 184-91.
57. Cf. R.L. Braun, ‘A Reconsideration of the Chronicler’s Attitude towards the
North’, JBL 96 (1977), pp. 59-62. Significantly, Chronicles contains no ‘parallel’ account
to 2 Kgs 17.24-34. Of course, if both are considered to be Israel, then the receiving
community (i.e., ‘contemporary’ Israel) may identify with any of these groups, or with
both at the same time, but on a different level. In the pericope discussed here the
audience is asked to identify itself with pious northern Israelites.
58. For faithful Israelites living in Judah, see 2 Chron. 11.16.
59. Most of these reported events (2 Chron. 30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1) are attributed
to the first year of Hezekiah. Here, as in other places, the Chronicler’s account stands at
odds with the deuteronomistic account. The text in 2 Chron. 30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1
clearly presupposes the non-existence of the kingdom of Israel at that time, but
according to the deuteronomistic history (see 2 Kgs 17.1-6 [cf. 2 Kgs 16.2]; 18.1, 9–12)
king Hosea reigned over Israel during the first year of Hezekiah, and at least until
Hezekiah’s fourth year. Significantly, while the Chronicler did not include any of these
accounts from 2 Kings in his/her historiographical work, he/she included positive
references to northern Israelites in 2 Chron. 30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1; 34.9, none of
which is taken from the ‘parallel’ account in Kings. It is worth noting that the role of
the prophet who calls the (northern) Israelites to return to YHWH and to YHWH’s
ways in 2 Chron. 30 is fulfilled by Hezekiah, king of Judah (cf. the similar role of Abijah
in 2 Chron. 13.4-12). According to Chronicles, Davidic kings occasionally fulfil the
role of the prophet (see Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in the
Teaching of Chronicles’, Beth Mikra 28 [1982/3], pp. 113-33, esp. 121-22; Hebrew). No
northern Israelite king ever fulfilled this role; by accepting the crown they disqualified
themselves.
60. Cf. 2 Chron. 11.13-16; 13.5-7 and see discussion above. There is no positive
reference to (northern) Israelites who accept the rule of the non-Davidic king. Saul, the
only king whose reign was established before the election of the House of David, was
potentially a legitimate king (see 1 Chron. 10.14), but he did not seek YHWH. Con-
cerning the figure of Saul in Chronicles, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 405-11. It is worth
noting that immediately after Saul – the bad king – died, the people of Israel, repre-
sented by the warriors of Jabesh-gilead, knew how to behave according to God’s will,
and did accordingly. See Section 3.2.
61. The centrality of this-world righteous behavior (i.e., seeking YHWH and behav-
ing accordingly), the here and now, is clearly expressed by the persistent impressing of
the principle of correspondence between actions and effects upon the addressed com-
munity. Hopes for a distant better future (if they are expressed) do not affect the
Chronicler’s thought and teaching concerning the individual responsibility of each
member of the community to behave according to YHWH’s will in the present, under
the present conditions.
62. This conclusion does not support the idea that the main purpose of the Chroni-
cler was to support the claims of a contemporaneous Davidic scion (see, for instance,
D.N. Freedman, ‘The Chronicler’s Purpose’, CBQ 23 [1961], pp. 436-42; S. McKenzie,
The Chronicler’s Use of the Deuteronomistic History [HSM, 33; Atlanta: Scholars Press,
1985], pp. 25-26). In all fairness to these scholars, one must mention that when they
refer to the ‘Chronicler’, they do not intend the author (or authors) of the canonical
Book of Chronicles. But in any case, they do attribute to him/her 2 Chronicles 28.
Their position is beset by several other problems; see, e.g., Williamson, 1–2 Chronicles,
pp. 5-17.
63. Cf. this conclusion with the results of the analysis offered in Section 5.6.
64. This assumes with Williamson (1–2 Chronicles, p. 16) and others, that the fourth
century CE (and perhaps middle-fourth century) is the most probable date for the
composition of 1–2 Chronicles.
65. See Excursus.
66. Kaufmann, History, II, pp. 458-59) maintains that three main elections
characterize the Chronicler’s work, namely that of the House of David, that of the
Jerusalem and its temple, and that of the tribe of Levi. The verb ‫ בחר‬in Chronicles
occurs in texts that are not paralleled in the deuteronomistic history; in relation to the
Levites in 1 Chron. 15.2; 2 Chron. 29.11 (perhaps the latter refers to the Levites and to
the priests; see, e.g., Williamson, 1–2 Chronicles, p. 354 and Dillard, 2 Chronicles,
p. 233), to David in 1 Chron. 28.5, and to the temple (or the place of the temple) in
2 Chron. 7.12, 16. Cf. Von Rad, Old Testament Theology (ed. M.G. Stalker; 2 vols.; New
York: Harper, 1967), I, p. 353.
67. Of course, according to the Chronicler, it is impossible to establish a legitimate
temple elsewhere because of the election of Jerusalem.
68. The many references to the temple and the worship there (many of them with-
out parallel in the deuteronomistic history) point to the centrality of the temple and its
worship in the Chronicler’s teaching. Of course, the Chronicler thought and communi-
cated to the community that the cult should be performed as it ‘ought to be’ (i.e., as
ordained by Moses and David; see n. 69). But he/she cannot be considered a formalist.
The Chronicler, e.g., claimed that when YHWH weighted the people’s setting the heart
to seek God against their cultic transgressions, YHWH gave clear priority to the former
(2 Chron. 30.18-20). On this issue, see, e.g., Williamson, 1–2 Chronicles, pp. 30-31.
69. See S.J. de Vries, ‘Moses and David as Cult Founders in Chronicles’, JBL 107
(1988), pp. 619-39.
70. Kaufmann, History, II, pp. 458-59.
71. One may interpret the ‘practical’ meaning (or better, original significance) of
this position as a warning to any potential group in Israel which may think of
establishing an alternative temple. The Samaritan temple at Mt Gerizim was most
likely built in the Hellenistic period, and therefore it does not precede the com-
position of 1–2 Chronicles (see J.D. Purvis, ‘The Samaritans and Judaism’, in R.A.
Kraft and G.W.E. Nickelsburg [eds.], Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters
[Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986], pp. 81-98, and the bibliography mentioned there). But
given the existence of a long history of independent (i.e., non-Jerusalemite) leadership
in Samaria, one cannot rule out the possibility of religious controversy in this respect.
Alternatively, one may understand the ‘practical’ message as a call to northern Isra-
elites contemporaneous with the Chronicler (i.e., the population of Samaria but not
the ‘Samaritans’ who belong to a later period) to rally round the Jerusalemite temple,
i.e., to repeat what many of their ancestors did in the days of Hezekiah (2 Chronicles
30). See R.L. Braun, ‘The Message of Chronicles: Rally “Round the Temple”’, CTM 42
(1971), pp. 502-14. This understanding does justice to the Chronicler’s ‘hammering’
of the point that northern Israelites are part and parcel of Israel, but does not take
into account that the audience of the Chronicler were Yehudeans, and most likely
Jerusalemites, not the people of Samaria. This being the case, the ‘practical’ message
may be a call to this audience not to reject their brothers and sisters from the North,
and at the same time to stand firm on clear limits to what may be considered the cult
worthy of an Israelite who seeks God. Needless to say, the analysis offered in this
paper stands at odds with the position that the Chronicler’s work is a dispute against
the Samaritans and an apology for the Jerusalemite community (e.g., W. Rudolph,
Chronikbücher, p. IX)
72. It worth noting that the Chronicler de-emphasized the destruction and the
significance of the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple vis à vis the source in Kings.
(See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 369-70.) This feature is consistent with the tendency to
expand the limits of ‘historical’ continuity that characterizes Chronicles. See n. 52.
73. For a detailed study of these functions, see Amit, ‘Role of Prophecy’.
74. See Amit, ‘Role of Prophecy’, esp. pp. 121-22.
75. Cf. Isa. 58.7 and Ezek. 18.5-9 (esp. v. 7). To some extent the actions of the
northern Israelites are also comparable to those attributed to God in Deut. 29.4 and Ps.
146.7-8. Most likely, the Chronicler was aware of these passages and of the image of
God that they suggest. It is conceivable, therefore, that the Chronicler intentionally
described the actions of the northern Israelites in such a way that suggests human
‘imitation’ of divine behavior. Mason (Preaching the Tradition, pp. 93-95) relates the
freeing of the captives to their being ‘kinsmen’ of the Israelites, and accordingly, to Lev.
25.44-46 and Neh. 5.5. But he also argues, that ‘it is not nationality which matter (in
this passage), but obedient response to God’s law and God’s words through his
prophets’ (p. 95). This being the case, the issue is what the prophet demands from the
people, i.e., to free the captive, to feed the hungry, to water the thirsty and to clothe the
naked.
76. Of course, by revealing these rules, the Chronicler is developing and commu-
nicating to his/her audience a certain image of God, and of God’s attributes, e.g., that
God is characterized as one who seeks those who seek God (1 Chron. 28.9; see
McConville, ‘1 Chronicles 28.9’).
77. That the Chronicler accepted as authoritative an interpreted Pentateuch is the
most likely conclusion of (a) the impossibility of implementing the ‘laws’ of the Pen-
tateuch (or most of them) without interpreting them, and (b) explicit references in
Chronicles to the text of the book of the Torah that are inconsistent with any possible
literal quotation from known Pentateuchal texts, but are understandable in terms of
exegesis of these texts. See, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp. 239-42, Dillard, 2 Chronicles, pp.
242-44, and for a comprehensive discussion on ‘legal exegesis with verbatim, para-
phrastic, or pseudo-citations in historical sources’ (including Chronicles) see Fishbane,
Biblical Interpretation, pp. 107-62. For an alternative position, namely that claiming
that the Chronicler’s book of the Torah differed substantially from the present Penta-
teuch, see, e.g., Rudolph, Chronikbücher, p. xv; and Shaver, Torah; and cf. C. Houtman,
‘Ezra and the Law’, OTS 21 (1981), pp. 91-115. I argued against this position elsewhere
(‘Review of J.R. Shaver, Torah and the Chronicler’s History Work’, JBL 110 [1991], pp.
718-20).
78. Cf. T. Willi, ‘Thora in den biblishchen Chronikbüchern’, Judaica 36 (1980), pp.
102-105, 148-51.
79. According to von Rad (Old Testament Theology, I, p. 100) ‘in the post-exilic
Levirate [sic; the original German correctly reads ‘Levitentum’], from whom of course
the Chronicler’s history is derived, there must have been circles which regarded
themselves as heirs and successors of the prophets’. Significantly, the Chronicler
considered writing history a prophetic function (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 9.29; 12.15, 20, 34;
26.22; and Amit, ‘Role of Prophecy’, esp. pp. 122-23).
80. The same holds true for other biblical books, including those that constitute the
deuteronomistic history. It is worth noting that, to a certain extent, the difference
between a ‘classical Western’ essayist tradition and a Hebrew non-essayist tradition still
can be observed in modern Hebrew literature. See M. Zellermayer, ‘Intensifiers in
Hebrew and in English’, Journal of Pragmatics 15 (1991), pp. 43-58.
81. See also Japhet, Ideology, pp. 396-411.
82. See E.W. Conrad, ‘The Community as King in Second Isaiah’, in J.T. Butler,
E.W. Conrad, and B.C. Ollenburger (eds.), Understanding the Word: Essays in Honor
of B.W. Anderson (JSOTSup, 37; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1985), pp. 99-111.
83. See R.A. Freund, ‘From Kings to Archons: Jewish Political Ethics and Kingship
Passages in the LXX’, SJOT 2 (1990), pp. 58-72.
84. Cf. Bickerman, From Ezra, pp. 3-31; Mason, Preaching the Tradition, p. 118. My
thanks are due to Francis Landy, M. Patrick Graham and Maxine Hancock for their
careful readings of a draft of this chapter in its previous incarnation, and to John H.
Hayes and J. Maxwell Miller for their comments on even earlier drafts of this essay.
Chapter 12
THE AUTHORITY OF 1–2 CHRONICLES

IN THE LATE SECOND TEMPLE PERIOD*
1. Introduction
1
1–2 Chronicles provides an alternative account of Israelite/Judean history
that basically parallels the account in 1 Samuel–2 Kings (deuteronomistic
history),2 yet it differs from deuteronomistic history not only about specific
details but also in its theological and historiographical approach. Thus,
from the fourth century BCE (the probable date of Chronicles),3 two
different and often conflicting accounts of the monarchic period were
available. What did this situation mean?
In many societies, the image of a distant historical past functions as a
means of self-understanding. This image (‘remembrances’ + the inferred
historical ‘laws’) provides a conceptual framework for the understanding of
contemporary reality, making this reality meaningful to the individual as
well as to society as a whole. Since the historical image as pattern
transforms unique situations into illustrations of an ongoing historical
process, the ‘laws’ governing this historical process and past patterns of
response turn out to be applicable to the present situation. The
‘knowledge’ thus gained is dependent not only on specific historical images
but also on the conceptual world of the interpreter. Consequently, a wide
range of lessons may be derived from similar historical images.
Israel often turned to its image of the past in order to understand
present situations (see, for instance, the interpreted summaries of the
Israelite past in Ezekiel 20; Psalm 106; Nehemiah 9; Sirach 44–50; Jdt. 5.5-
21; CD 3; Wis. 10; 1 Macc. 2.51-61; 3 Macc. 6.2-8; 4 Macc. 18.9-19; Acts
7.2-53; Hebrews 11). Although this list is not exhaustive, it points to a
significant feature of the historical self-image of Israel. The main
referential history consisted in: (a) interpreted accounts of Genesis–Joshua
(including the narratives about the patriarchs, the deliverance from Egypt,
the Sinai events, the conquest of the land, etc.); (b) reports about prophets
and sages; and (c) the monarchic history as an example of the basic
theological principle that if Israel forsakes God, Israel will fail.
Concerning point (c) one may ask, which of the two histories provided
the image of the monarchic past in the late Second Temple period? And if
both contributed to this image, how did people cope with their con-
tradictions? Considering the diversity that characterized the period, can
we expect one answer?
From a methodological point of view, this paper is based on the assump-
tion that if a distinctive pattern of significance for Chronicles is found in
the literature of the late Second Temple period, or in some of its different
corpora, then this pattern reflects the status of 1–2 Chronicles in the
group defined as the enlarged ‘audience’ of this literature or of a specific
corpus of writings. Accordingly, in the following pages we will survey
passages in the literature of the late Second Temple period that are
probably dependent on the text of Chronicles, and especially on its
account of the monarchic period. Moreover, we will compare them with
‘parallel’ accounts from deuteronomistic history and other ‘biblical’4 and
‘non-biblical’ accounts in order to consider questions of univocal depend-
ency and of congruency.5
2. 1–2 Chronicles in the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

1. Tobit 6
Tobit 1.2 reflects in a blurred form 2 Kgs 17.3ff.,18.9ff., and probably 2 Kgs
15.29 (since these verses describe the history of the Northern Kingdom,
none of them have parallels in 2 Chronicles). According to Tob. 1.21ª:
‘…two of Sennacherib’s sons killed him, and they fled to the mountains of
Ararat. Then Esarhaddon his son reigned in his place’ (RSV). The report in
2 Kgs 19.37 (//Isa. 37.38) reads as follows: ‘…his sons Adrammelech and
Sarezer struck him down with the sword. They fled to the land of Ararat,
and his son Esarhaddon succeeded him as a king’ (NJPSV). Significantly,
the ‘parallel’ report in Chronicles (2 Chron. 32.21) reads differently:
‘…some of his own offspring struck him down by the sword’ (NJPSV). Also
it is worth noting that Esarhaddon is not mentioned at all in the entire
books of Chronicles, and the flight to Ararat mentioned in 2 Kgs 19.37
(//Isa. 37.38) is absent from all the other reports of the episode, either
biblical or non-biblical (e.g., the Nabonidus stele, Berossus’ account).7
Thus, Tob. 1.21a is dependent on 2 Kgs 19.37 (//Isa. 37.38) but not on
2 Chron. 32.21. The potential reference to Manasseh in Tob. 14.10 does
not occur in Codex Sinaiticus, which is often considered ‘the most original
form of the text’.8 It is commonly considered a scribal error, and likely not
12. The Authority of 1–2 Chronicles 245
a reference to king Manasseh to begin with,9 and in any case is a late

addition to the text. Thus, Tob. 14.10 does not indicate utilization of
Chronicles.
2. The Wisdom of Ben Sira

According to scholarly consensus Chronicles antedates Ecclesiasticus.10
Thus, we may assume that Chronicles was available to Ben Sira at the time
he wrote ‘The Praise of the Fathers’ (Sir. 44.1–50.24).11
The following points clearly support the idea that ‘The Praise of the
Fathers’ is dependent on deuteronomistic history:
(1) The sin of Solomon, its cause, and its consequences are mentioned
in Sir. 47.19-21. The biblical basis for this account is 1 Kings 11. Signifi-
cantly, according to the account of Solomon’s deeds in 2 Chron. 1.1–11.43,
Solomon committed no sin.
(2) Sirach 48.1-14 is an encomium on Elijah and Elisha. The Elijah–
Elisha stories in 1–2 Kings, and Mal. 3.23-24 (see Sir. 48.10), are the
biblical basis of this eulogy. Elisha is not mentioned at all in Chronicles
and Elijah only once (2 Chron. 21.12). This unique mention of Elijah in
2 Chronicles receives no attention in Ben Sira.
(3) Sirach 48.17-22 is an encomium on Hezekiah. However, it fails to
refer to the Hezekian reform, which is the main theme in Chronicles’
account of Hezekiah’s reign.12 This omission precludes the possibility that
Ben Sira’s image of Hezekiah was shaped by 1–2 Chronicles.
Moreover, a comparative analysis of the report concerning the Assyrian
invasion shows that the short version in Sir. 48.18-21 is an independent
abridged version based on 2 Kgs 18.13–19.37 (//Isa. 36.1–37.38), and not a
reworked form of the already abridged version that occurs in 2 Chron.
32.9-22.13
The unqualified praise of David, Hezekiah and Josiah in Sir. 49.4, and
the harsh judgment of all the other kings are understandable on the basis
of deuteronomistic history (see 2 Kgs 18.5; 23.25). Significantly, these two
verses have no parallel in Chronicles. In fact, Chronicles finds no blame in
other kings (e.g., Abijah/m; see 2 Chron. 13.1-23, cf. 1 Kgs 15.1-8).
To conclude:
(a) the reconstruction of the Israelite/Judean history on which the
‘Praise of the Fathers’ was based is the one found in the deuteronomistic
history.
(b) Ben Sira’s image of the past was not shaped by Chronicles.
It is noteworthy that this conclusion does not rule out the use of Chroni-
cles as a supplementary source-book. Indeed, there are two notes in Ben
Sira that deserve further attention.
According to Sir. 47.9-10, the organization of the cultic worship was

credited to David: ‘He (David) placed singers before the altar, to make sweet
melody with their voices’ (RSV). The Hebrew version of Sir. 47.9, from the
Cairo Geniza14 reads: ‫נגינות שיר ל]פני מ[זבח וקול ח]מזמור נ[בלים תיקן‬.15
Although this is not a quotation from Chronicles, it is noteworthy that
according to 1 Chronicles 25, David and the officers of his army set apart
certain families who were to sing and to play musical instruments before
God, in cultic worship.16 Since this note in Chronicles has no parallel in
2 Samuel, it has been proposed that Sir. 47.9 is dependent on 1 Chroni-
cles 25, or at least that it refers to 1 Chronicles 25.17 However, notices
crediting David with this act occur also in Ezra 3.10 and in Neh. 12.24.
Moreover, these passages probably point to the existence of a widespread
tradition concerning the role of David in the organization of cultic wor-
ship (see 11QPsªDavComp,18 which cannot be considered an influence
from 1 Chronicles 15).19 Thus, no conclusive data pointing to an unequivo-
cal relationship between Chronicles and Sir. 47.9 can be discerned.
According to Sir. 48.17 ‘Hezekiah fortified his city’ (RSV). This short
notice may be considered a reference to 2 Chron. 32.5 (without parallel in
2 Kings).20 However, this information can also be deduced from Isa. 22.9-
11.21 Moreover, Sir. 48.17a reads: ‫יחזקיהו חזק עירו בהטות אל תובה מים‬
(according to the Hebrew text of Cairo Geniza).22 The reference to the
waterworks is obviously closer to ‫ ויבא את המים העירה‬in 2 Kgs 20.20 (with-
out parallel in 2 Chronicles 32) than ‫והוא יחזקיהו סתם את מוצא מימי גיחון‬
‫( העליון ויישרם למטה מערבה לעיר דויד‬2 Chron. 32.30) or to the notice in
2 Chron. 32.4-5 (both without parallel in 2 Kings).
3. 1 Esdras 23
This book is basically a compilation of 2 Chronicles 35–36, Ezra 1–10, and
Nehemiah 8, but contains also some supplementary material not found in
them.24 There is no doubt that 1 Esd. 1.1–2.5a parallels 2 Chron. 35.1–
36.23,25 except for 1 Esd. 1.23-24.
1 Esdras does not parallel deuteronomistic history (cf. 2 Kings 23) nor
include any supplementary material that may be traced to this history.26
The few occasions in which the text contains readings slightly divergent
from the parallel account in 1–2 Chronicles are not due to the influence of
deuteronomistic history.27
Significantly, 1 Esdras follows Chronicles only in the parallel account
mentioned above. For example, 1 Esd. 4.45 contradicts 2 Chron. 36.17-19
(and also deuteronomistic history) and 1 Esd. 1.23-34 cannot be reconciled
with the doctrine of divine retribution of 1–2 Chronicles.28
4. The Testament (or Assumption) of Moses29

The history of monarchic Judah is described in Testament of Moses as
follows:
…and the two holy tribes shall be established there (but the ten tribes will
establish kingdoms for themselves according to their own arrangements).
And they will offer sacrifices for twenty years. And seven will surround the
place with walls, and I will protect nine, and <four> shall transgress the
Lord’s covenant and profane the oath the Lord made with them. And they
will sacrifice their sons to foreign gods, and they will set idols in the sanc-
tuary and serve them. And in the Lord’s house they will commit all kinds of
abominations and carve representations of every kind of animal (T. Mos.
2.5-9).30
As a whole, this pericope reflects an historical image congruent with the
image provided by the deutronomistic history, 1–2 Chronicles, and the
books of Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Nevertheless, the report seems to be very
specific, and it mentions the number of kings who did certain things. Leav-
ing aside the last ‘four’, a reconstructed reading,31 one may ask:
(1) On what grounds, if any, does the text say that seven kings fortified the
city (or Judah)?
(2) What was the source that informed the author about the the nine kings
who have been protected?
The reconstruction of the monarchic period by the deuteronomistic
history cannot provide these numbers, but 1–2 Chronicles does provide
them, as follows:
(a) The seven kings who fortified the city, or Judah, are:
1. Rehoboam (2 Chron. 11.5ff.) 5. Jotham (2 Chron. 27.3f.)
2. Asa (2 Chron. 14.6) 6. Hezekiah (2 Chron. 32.5)
3. Jehoshaphat (2 Chron. 17.12) 7. Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.14)
4. Uzziah (2 Chron. 26.6, 9)
(b) The nine kings who have been protected are:
1. Rehoboam (2 Chron. 12.6ff.) 6. Amaziah (2 Chron. 25.7ff.)
2. Abijah (2 Chron. 13.4ff.) 7. Uzziah (2 Chron. 26.5ff.)
3. Asa (2 Chron. 14.8ff) 8. Hezekiah (2 Chron. 32.21f.)
4. Jehoshaphat (2 Chron. 20.1ff.) 9. Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.12f.)
5. Jehoash (2 Chronicles 23)
Significantly, most of these notes occur only in Chronicles.

If these numbers were not arbitrary, one may ask whether the 20 years
of correct worship are a ‘typological’ numbers of years or refer to some
biblical text. With regard to the second alternative, the number 20 may be
understood as a midrashic inference from Chronicles:
(1) According to 2 Chron. 8.1 Solomon constructed the temple and his
palace in 20 years.
(2) Then the king lived another 20 years (2 Chron. 9.30) in which he
remained faithful to God (pace 1 Kings 11).
After Solomon’s death, Rehoboam, his son, became king. Shortly after
Rehoboam’s kingship was established, he abandoned the Torah (2 Chron.
12.1), and so did all Israel.32
It is not hard to imagine that the author of T. Mos. 2.5-9 may have
thought that the people who had abandoned the Torah might have ceased
offering (legitimate sacrifices). If they did so, then the offerings probably
ceased 20 years after the inauguration of the temple.
To conclude, if the numbers given in T. Mos. 2.5-9 are taken seriously,
then these verses do not reflect deuteronomistic history, but instead seem
to reflect 1–2 Chronicles.
5. The Martyrdom of Isaiah (Ascension of Isaiah, 1.1-2a; 1.7-3.12; 5.1-14)33

This text is the first attested occurrence of the legend concerning the awful
death of Isaiah at the hands of Manasseh, ‘the disciple of Beliar’ (Asc. Isa.
1.8; cf. Asc. Isa. 2.4; 3.11; 5.1). Since no biblical narrative accuses Manasseh
of the death of Isaiah, nor even mentions the two figures together, one
should look for elements in the biblical narrative that may have been the
kernel from which this legend was developed. For instance:
(1) The picture of Manasseh in 2 Kings (2 Kgs 21.1-17; 24.3; see also Jer.
15.4);
(2) The report in 2 Kgs 21.16 (‘Moreover, Manasseh shed very much inno-
cent blood, till he had filled Jerusalem from one end to another’ [RSV]).
(3) The fact that superscriptions to the prophetic books do not mention any
prophet who prophesied in Manasseh’s days.
These elements could have triggered the legend. But much more difficult
to reconcile with the legend is Chronicles’ account of Manasseh (2 Chron.
33.1-20), which reports that the king humbled himself, repented, purified
the cult, called his people to repentance, and received divine blessing like
the other pious kings of Judah.34
It is noteworthy that the Martyrdom of Isaiah is not only a legend about
Isaiah and Manasseh but also an interpretation of the character of ‘apos-
tasy’ in general. According to this interpretation, the worship of non-
Israelite gods (see 2 Kgs 21.2-7) is no less than worship of Satan (Asc. Isa.
2.7). People incurred this sin because Satan/Beliar dwells in their hearts
(e.g., Manasseh). Moreover, these events were determined in advance by
God (see Asc. Isa. 1.7-13), and consequently, nothing can be done in order
to prevent them (Asc. Isa. 1.12-13). This interpretation contradicts the
message of Chronicles in general, and especially contradicts the contents
and message of 2 Chron. 33.10-16. Therefore, even though the author of
the Martyrdom may have known Chronicles’ account of the reign of Manas-
seh,35 his thought was not shaped by this account.36
6. 4 Maccabees
In 4 Macc. 3.7-18 an example is given in order to illustrate the expression
that ‘reason is not the uprooter of the passions but their antagonist’ (4 Macc.
3.5). The example is David’s response to his action of his three mighty men
who brought him water from Beth-Lehem. The story is based on 2 Sam.
23.13-17//1 Chron. 11.15-19. These narratives so closely parallel each
other that there is no way to discern which version stands behind 4 Macc.
3.7-18. Moreover, the narrative in 4 Maccabees not only supplements the
biblical account with several details or adjusts it to its contextual purpose
(e.g., by removing David’s request [2 Sam. 23.15//1 Chron. 11.17]), but also
points to the existence of a slightly different version in which the role of
the three mighty men was played by two soldiers. Therefore, the story in
4 Maccabees probably reflects neither the text of 2 Samuel nor the text of
1 Chronicles, but a third version.37
7. 4 Ezra (2 Esdras 3–14)38

Among the forefathers who prayed at special occasions in the past (4 Ezra
7.106-110), we find: ‘…and David for the plague, and Solomon for those in
the sanctuary, and Elijah for those who received the rain, and for the one
who was dead, that he might live, and Hezekiah for the people in the days
of Sennacherib, and many others…’ (4 Ezra 7.109-110, Metzger’s transla-
tion, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, I, p. 541). What source does this list
reflect?
1. David’s prayer is mentioned in 2 Sam. 24.17, and in 1 Chron. 21.16f.
2. For Solomon’s prayer see 1 Kgs 8.22f., 30 and 2 Chron. 6.12, 14, 20.
3. Elijah’s prayers are based on 1 Kgs 17.20ff; 18.42ff. There is no paral-
lel account in Chronicles.
4. Hezekiah’s prayer is mentioned in 2 Kgs 19.15ff., 20. According to the
account of Sennacherib’s invasion in Chronicles, Hezekiah and Isaiah
prayed at that time (2 Chron. 32.20). 2 Kings does not mention Isaiah’s
prayer (see 2 Kgs 19.2-7).
5. The list does not contain any reference to those prayers in Chronicles
that have no parallel in other biblical accounts.39
In sum, 4 Ezra reflects the deuteronomistic account of the history.
8. 2 Baruch
The interpretation of the ‘apocalypse of the clouds’ (chs. 53–54) in 2 Baruch
55–76 is a review of Israelite history from Adam to the Messianic era. The
authority of the interpreter (‘the angel Ramiel, who presides over genuine
visions’ (2 Bar. 55.3 – Sparks, Apocryphal Old Testament, p. 875) points
to the authoritativeness of the interpretation. Moreover, in this kind of
historical review, the veracity of the account of past events supports the
veracity of the eventual outcome of the historical process, that is the
Messianic era, which is precisely the main message of the entire discourse.
Therefore, we should conclude that the historical reconstruction of the
past that occurs in these chapters was considered the correct one by the
author and his audience. Thus, the account of the monarchic period
in chs. 61–66 is an important source for the study of the way in which
Chronicles was evaluated sometime after the destruction of the Temple by
a certain non-sectarian group.
The historical account has been formulated in a literary pattern based
on alternative ‘bright’ and ‘dark’ periods, which are represented by bright
and dark clouds.
(1) The first ‘bright’ period relevant to our topic refers to the days of
David and Solomon (ch. 61). In general terms, the description of these days
resembles both deuteronomistic history and Chronicles. The literary pat-
tern precludes any reference to the revolts in David’s days, to David’s sins,
or to Solomon’s sin, in this unit. As it is well known, deuteronomistic
history reports these events but 1–2 Chronicles omitted them.
(2) The following ‘dark’ period refers to the Northern Kingdom from
Jeroboam’s days through the days in which ‘Shalmaneser (sic)…carried
them (the Israelites) off as captives’. The narrative follows deuteromistic
history. However, because of the literary pattern, the report of Jehu’s revolt
is omitted. Obviously, this literary pattern precludes any mention of
2 Chron. 28.9-15 (one of the few notices concerning Israelite history in
Chronicles). Furthermore, the image of Israel’s total exile, which implies
that the post-Shabnaneser inhabitants of Samaria were not Israelites, may
be explained as a consequence of the literary pattern, and not as a deliber-
ate choice between the report in 2 Kings 17; 18.9-12 and the contradictory
report in 2 Chronicles 30.
(3) The next ‘bright’ period (ch. 63) refers to Hezekiah’s days, or more
precisely to the divine deliverance of Jerusalem because of the righteous-
ness of Hezekiah (63.5). The reference to the prayer of Hezekiah (2 Kgs
19.15-19; see esp. v. 19) and the number 185,000 (63.7; cf. 2 Kgs 19.35; the
number is not mentioned in 2 Chron. 32.21) suggest a dependence on
deuteronomistic history. Significantly, the Hezekian reform, the main
point in Chronicles’ account of Hezekiah’s days, is totally absent from
ch. 63, a chapter describing the ‘bright’ days.
(4) The following ‘dark’ period refers to the days of Manasseh. The
point of departure of the description is 2 Kgs 21.lff., but the theme was
extended, new sins were added, and new details were provided for the old
sins. Although the author explicitly mentions the prayer of Manasseh, and
he knows that it was heard (64.8; cf. 2 Chron. 33.12-13), he rejects the
description of Manasseh in Chronicles,40 and polemizes against it, or
against related traditions.41 Although the literary pattern demands an evil
Manasseh, one may conclude, at the very least, that 2 Baruch’s image of
Manasseh could not be derived from 2 Chronicles 33.
(5) The next two periods are the ‘bright’ period of Josiah and the ‘dark’
period of the destruction of the temple. The basic motifs in the descrip-
tions of both periods may have been drawn from either the deuteronomis-
tic history or Chronicles or even from both.
To conclude, the historical images of Hezekiah and Manasseh in
2 Baruch are congruent with deuteronomistic history and were probably
related to this account. The images do not reflect Chronicles’ account of
monarchic history.
9. Prayer of Manasseh
According to 2 Chron. 33.18 Manasseh’s prayer to God was recorded in
the ‘chronicles of the kings of Israel’. However, Chronicles does not pro-
vide the text of this prayer. The void is filled by the ‘Prayer of Manasseh’,
whose text, and not only its title, refers to the account in 2 Chronicles 33.42
The very existence of the prayer proves that the author of the prayer and
his/her audience accepted the account in 2 Chronicles 33. But who were
they? The earliest attested occurrence of the prayer is in the Didascalia
(third century CE); its terminus ad quo is slightly after the fourth century
BCE (the probable date for the composition of 1–2 Chronicles). Beyond
this point there is no general agreement among modern scholars, either
concerning date and place of origin or concerning the original language.43
3. Qumran
In his report on the biblical fragments of Cave Four, Cross (1956) wrote as
follows: ‘At the other extreme (of preservation) is our single copy of the
book of Chronicles from Qumran. It is found on a three-inch strip of

leather. Parts of six lines, two columns are preserved; but worms have
gorged themselves on Holy Writ. The result is leather lace with only four
complete words legible.’44 These four legible words were not published in
DJD V, and no further copies of 1–2 Chronicles were found in Qumran.
What can be deduced from the fact that 1–2 Chronicles was hardly found
in Qumran?
There is no doubt that the fate of any particular scroll was determined
by chance, but the pattern of distribution of the 179 biblical texts found
in Qumran cannot be considered the result of simple chance. This pattern
does reflect the Qumranic ‘library’, at least in general terms. Wise,45 fol-
lowing Sanders,46 presents the following picture of the textual findings:
Genesis 15 texts, Exodus 15, Leviticus 8, Numbers 6, Deuteronomy 25,
Joshua 2, Judges 3, Samuel 4, Kings 3, Isaiah 19, Jeremiah 4, Ezekiel 6,
‘Minor Prophets’ 8, Psalms 30, Job 5, Proverbs 2, Ruth 2, Canticles 4,
Ecclesiastes 1, Lamentations 4, Esther 0, Daniel 9, Ezra–Nehemiah 1,
Chronicles 1.
Even if the contents of the ‘Qumran library’ should not be a perfect
mirror of the ideas of the members of the community, it reflects to some
extent their priorities concerning texts. For instance, more than half of the
extant library consists of Pentateuch + Psalms, and almost 60 percent of
the remaining texts are prophetic books (including Daniel in this cate-
gory).47 The historical books are relatively scarce. Among them Kings and
Samuel are much more represented than Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah
(seven against only two). If this distribution reflects the approach of the
‘librarians’, we must conclude that Chronicles was relatively less important
than other biblical books. If this hypothesis is correct, we should expect
only a few quotations from Chronicles and few interpretations of Chroni-
cles in the Qumranic literature.
To the best of my knowledge, no clear quotations from Chronicles’
unique material have been published. With regard to probable quotations
from parallel accounts, the question is whether they are quotations from
1–2 Chronicles or from the better attested, and probably more influential,
biblical books that contain the parallel verse(s).48 Moreover, since the text
of 4QSama is closer to the parallel account in MT Chronicles than to the
text of the MT Samuel,49 one should conclude that minute textual exami-
nation of the parallel texts does not provide an adequate methogological
solution to the source problem mentioned above. Since there is no alter-
native method, and since the most probable source for quotations is the
source with which the writers were most familiar, that is the most attested
source in their writings, one should conclude that it is more likely that the
quotations of the parallel accounts refer to the non-Chronicles source (e.g.,
1–2 Samuel, 1–2 Kings) than to 1–2 Chronicles.
Concerning the influence of Chronicles on literary texts found in
Qumran, (a) Yadin has suggested that the Temple Scroll (TS) claims to be
the ‘blueprint’ for the construction of the temple that David gave to Solo-
mon (1 Chron. 28.11ff.), and that this note from Chronicles was the point
of departure for the author of the Temple Scroll.50 However, the extant
text of the Temple Scroll does not claim to be this blueprint, or that the
Solomonic temple is its materialization (which is implied in Chronicles);
furthermore, the idea that the temple was built, or should be built, ac-
cording to a plan inspired or commanded by God is not restricted to 1–2
Chronicles, but is a common tenet. This tenet could have inspired puta-
tive divine plans (e.g., Ezekiel’s blueprint). Obviously, if the divine plans
differed from the actual temple, they undermined its legitimacy.51
In many aspects the Temple Scroll and 1–2 Chronicles present totally
different approaches and images;52 however, there are a few cases in which
the Temple Scroll resembles uncommon positions found in Chronicles,
such as:
(1) The cultic role of the Levites as slaughterers (see TS 22.4, cf. 2 Chron.
30.17; 35.6, 10-11, but see also Ezek. 44.10-11).
(2) The slaughter of the offering of Passover before the Tamid (see TS 17.7).
This order contradicts the rabbinical tradition, but 2 Chron. 35.11-14 may
be interpreted in a way that suggested the Temple Scroll order.
(3) The ‘columned porch of (free-)standing columns’ to the West of the
Temple (‫ פרור עמודים‬TS [= 11Q19 = 11 QTa] col. 35.10) may be related to
the ‘colonnade’ (‫ )פרבר‬to the West in 1 Chron. 26.18.53
Do these similarities point to any kind of dependence between 1–2

Chronicles and the Temple Scroll? Taking into account the vast amount of
differences between the two books, and the nature of these similarities, the
most probable relationship between the two books is not one of depend-
ence. Therefore, one might assume that the Temple Scroll and Chronicles
reflect a common tradition. The existence of an Ezekielian tradition about
Levites as cultic slaughterers clearly supports this conclusion.
(b) One of the non-canonical Psalms of Qumran has the following super-
scription: ‫תפלה למנשה מלך יהודה בכלו אתו מלך אשור‬.54
Obviously this superscription recalls the account in 2 Chron. 33.12f.
However, Schuller has shown that the language of this psalm is not depend-
ent on the language of Chronicles and concludes, ‘it is more likely that this
psalm was only secondarily attributed to Manasseh, and not composed
specifically as a psalm of Manasseh’.55 Obviously, this secondary attribu-

tion is conclusive evidence supporting the existence of a tradition about
Manasseh that is congruent with Chronicles – otherwise, this attribution is
totally inexplicable – but incompatible with deuteronomistic history.56
It is noteworthy that during the late Second Temple period and there-
after the issue of Manasseh’s repentance was addressed many times, by
different groups and with totally different results (e.g., cf. 2 Bar. 64.6ff.
with the Prayer of Manasseh; Mishnah San. 10.2 with b. San. 102b).57 In
this respect, the superscription from Qumran, the Prayer of Manasseh,
Josephus (Ant. 10.40-46), the sixth Hellenistic Synagogal prayer58 found in
the Apostolic Constitutions (Ap. Con. 7.37.1-5),59 the words of R. Judah,
and especially those of R. Yohanan according to b. San. 102b, and so on,60
all reflect a common point of view on Manasseh’s repentance, and on
repentance in general. Obviously, from the time in which Manasseh’s
conversion became a paradigmatic case of repentance, as well as a test
case for the extent of divine forgiveness, the question at stake is not the
approach to 1–2 Chronicles, but one much more comprehensive and
fundamental. Nevertheless, one may assume that those who rejected or
minimalized Manasseh’s repentance, or the extent of God’s forgiveness,
did not reflect Chronicles’ history nor its theology.61 Those who endorsed
the opposite position probably accepted the report of 2 Chron. 33.12-13,
but that does not imply that they accepted Chronicles as a whole.
4. Philo
Philo’s quotations of the biblical accounts concerning the monarchic his-
tory are very few. His works contain about 2,000 references to the Pen-
tateuch, but only about 50 references to the rest of the biblical material.62
The attested references to the main parallel account of the monarchic
history (i.e., 1 Sam. 31.1–2 Kgs 24.20; 1 Chron. 10.1–2 Chron. 36.13) are
the following.
(1) ‘I bow, too, in admiration before the mysteries revealed in the books
of Kings, where it does not offend us to find described as songs of God’s
psalmist David who lived and flourished many generations afterwards’
(Conf. 149).63 The reference is to 1 Kgs 15.11 (the relevant expression is
omitted in the parallel 2 Chron. 14.1), and to 2 Kgs 18.3 (//2 Chron. 29.2).
(2) ‘To return to the book of Kings. Every mind that is on the way to be
widowed and empty of evil says to the prophet, “O man of God, thou hast
come in to remind me of my iniquity and my sin” ’ (Quod Deus 138).64
Philo refers here to 1 Kgs 17.18 (without parallel in 1–2 Chronicles).
(3) ‘…a shepherd who shall lead it blamelessly that the nation may not
decay as a flock scattered about without one to guide it’ (Virt. 58). The
language may be related to 1 Kgs 22.17 (//2 Chron. 18.16).
Significantly, two out of the four biblical texts mentioned above have
no parallel in Chronicles, and three of them explicitly mention the book of
Kings.
In addition, there is only one probable reference to Chronicles’ genea-
logical lists (1 Chronicles 1–9) in Philo’s work. In his ‘De Congressu
Quaerendae Eruditionis Gratia’ Philo wrote: ‘We read, “The sons of
Manasseh were those whom the Syrian concubine bore to him, Machir
and Machir begat Gilead” ’ (Congr. 43n.). This verse does not occur in the
MT Gen. 46.20, but a very similar verse occurs in 1 Chron. 7.14 (MT =
LXX), as follows: ‘The sons of Manasseh: Asriel,65 whom his Aramean con-
cubine bore; she bore Machir the father of Gilead’ (NJPSV). However,
LXX Gen. 46.20 reads: ‘And there were sons born to Manasseh which the
Syrian concubine bore to him, Machin and Machir begot Galaad’.
Since Philo considered the LXX version an authoritative text,66 and since
most of Philo’s biblical references point to the Pentateuch, one should
conclude that there is no solid evidence supporting the idea that Philo was
dependent on 1 Chron. 7.14.
To conclude, the biblical account of the monarchic period is scarcely
quoted in Philo’s work. Concerning 1–2 Chronicles, there is no solid sup-
port for any of the probable quotations. It does not imply that Philo con-
sidered the books non-biblical,67 but it implies that Philo did not pay much
attention to Chronicles.
5. Historians
1. Eupolemus
Only a few fragments are extant from Eupolemus’ ‘On the Kings in Judea’.
This work was written in Greek, probably in 159/8 BCE, and probably in
Judah.68 From the extant passages it is clear that Eupolemus’ history relied
on both the deuteronomistic history and Chronicles,69 and sometimes in
their LXX versions.70 However, he did not cling to them too tightly, and
sometimes he not only went beyond the testimony of the biblical litera-
ture71 but also contradicted it.72
Concerning 1–2 Chronicles, information which is found only in the
non-parallel account of Chronicles occurs in Eupolemus’ history.73 In
addition, there are cases in which Eupolemus’ history seems to agree with
2 Chronicles against 1 Kings.74 However, more frequently, Eupolemus’
history does not agree with either the book of Kings or Chronicles, or goes
beyond them. For instance,
(1) According to Praep. Evang. 9.30.3, David is the son of Saul.
(2) According to Praep. Evang. 9.30.3f, David fought successful wars
against Tyrians, Assyrians, Nabateans, and Itureans, which are obviously
not mentioned in the biblical text. In contrast, David’s wars against the
Philistines are not mentioned at all in this summary of his military activity.
(3) According to Praep. Evang. 9.30.6, the angel Dianathan commanded
David not to build the temple.
(4) According to Praep. Evang. 30.8, David transferred the rule to Solo-
mon in the presence of Eli, the High Priest.
(5) According to Praep. Evang. 9.34.14, Solomon went to Shilo (not
Gibeon) to sacrifice there, after he completed the building of the temple.
(6) According to Praep. Evang. 9.34.4f., Nebuchadnezzar, with the
support of Astibares – the king of the Medes – subdued Samaria, Galilee
and Scythopolis, and the Jews living in Gilead (cf. 2 Kgs 15.29; 17.5f.).
Thus, Eupolemus is clearly dependent on, but obviously not limited to,
biblical material. He does not restrict himself to filling gaps in the biblical
narrative. He straightforwardly contradicts the biblical narrative when it
seems necessary. Thus, one should conclude that neither the deuterono-
mistic history nor Chronicles were authoritative for Eupolemus.
2. Josephus
Josephus wrote his Jewish Antiquities in Rome, little more than 20 years
after the destruction of the temple, at about the same time in which
Yavneh (Jamnia) began to develop its response to the catastrophe. Jewish
Antiquities is not unrelated to the general and multifarious process of
re-adjustment to the new circumstances that embraced all of Judaism.
Therefore, the sociocultural function, as well as the theological message of
Antiquities, belongs to a period slightly later than the late Second Temple
period. Nevertheless, the formative years of Josephus were in the late
Second Temple period; his ‘Scripture’ was the Scripture accepted by at
least one influential group in Jerusalem in the late Second Temple period.
Thus, the study of his account of the monarchic period, from the death of
Saul to the final summary of the two deportations (Ant. 6.378–10.185),
may provide an insight into the approach during the late Second Temple
period to the deuteronomistic and and chronistic historiographical works.
Even a cursory reading of Ant. 6.378–10.185 shows that both the deu-
teronomistic history and Chronicles were primary sources for Josephus.
But how did Josephus cope with their discrepancies? Can we discern a
pattern of relative authoritativeness? A careful reading of Antiquities pro-

vides the following answers.
(1) Josephus followed Chronicles in most of its additions to the deu-
teronomistic history but not in its omissions. For instance, Josephus
included a report on Rehoboam’s fortifications (Ant. 8.246; cf. 2 Chron.
11.5ff.), on Asa’s war against the Cushites (Ant. 8.290ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 14.8ff.),
on the war against the Moabites, and Ammonites in the days of Jeho-
shaphat (Ant. 9.7ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 20.lff.), on the Hezekian reform (according
to the narrative in Chronicles, Ant. 9.260ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 29.1ff.), and on
Manasseh’s captivity and repentance (Ant. 10.40ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 33.11).
But, on the other hand, Josephus included in his narrative the Bath-Sheba
story (Ant. 7.130ff.; cf. 2 Sam. 11.2ff.), the Absalom story, including the
Amnon and Tamar introductory episode (Ant. 8.162ff.; cf. 2 Sam. 13.1ff.),
and the account of Solomon’s sin (Ant. 8.190ff.; cf. 1 Kgs 11.1ff.), all of
which are carefully omitted in Chronicles. Josephus also included all the
deuteronomistic reports concerning the Northern kingdom, which are
omitted in 1–2 Chronicles, and among them the Elijah/ Elisha stories (the
vast majority of them omitted in Chronicles).
(2) Obviously, this way of harmonizing the data provided by Samuel-
Kings with the data provided by Chronicles is not possible when the two
report different details about a specific event. The battle in the Valley of
Rephaim between David’s army and the Philistines is an interesting test
case for Josephus’ use of discrepant, as well as problematic, historical data.
2 Samuel 5.18-20 reports the event as follows:
The Philistines came and spread out over the Valley of Rephaim. David
inquired of the LORD, ‘Shall I go up against the Philistines? Will You
deliver them into my hands?’ And the LORD answered David, ‘Go up, and I
will deliver the Philistines into your hands’. Thereupon David marched to
Baalperazim, and David defeated them there. And he said ‘The LORD has
broken through my enemies before me as waters break through [a dam]’.
That is why that place was named Baal-perazim. The Philstines abandoned
their idols (‫ )עצביהם‬there and David and his men carried them off (NJPSV).
1 Chronicles 14.9-12 reports the event slightly differently:

The Philistines came and raided the Valley of Rephaim. David inquired of
God, ‘Shall I go up against the Philistines? Will You deliver them into my
hands?’ and the LORD answered him, ‘Go up, and I will deliver them into
your hands’. Thereupon David marched to Baal-perazim, and David defeated
them there. And David said ‘God has broken through my enemies by my
hands as waters break through [a dam]’. That is why that place was named
Baal-perazim. The Philistines abandoned their gods (‫ )אלהיהם‬there and
David ordered these to be burned (NJPSV modified).
The Chronicler considered the end of the story in 2 Sam. 5.20 wholly
unacceptable. David was a pious king who should have fulfilled the require-
ments of the law in Deut. 7.25.75 Therefore, the report in 2 Sam. 5.20 was
‘emended’.
Did Josephus accept the correction or reject it? Before we answer this
question, we should pay attention to other ‘problematic’ aspects of this
passage. For instance, the text seems to imply that David inquired of God
without the assistance of the priest; but such inquiry must be done before
the priest or by the priest, according to Exod. 28.30, Num. 27.21 (see also
Deut. 8.33; Ezra 2.63; Neh. 7.65). Moreover, the place is named ‫בעל פרצים‬
because ‫אויבי‬/‫אלהים את איבי‬/‫פרץ יהוה‬. Does it imply that YHWH was
called Baal, in David’s days?
Josephus’ report of the event is as follows:
They (the Philistines) marched against him (David) to Jerusalem and, when
they had taken the so called Valley of the Giants* – this place is not far from
the city, – they encamped there. But the king of the Jews, who permitted
himself to do nothing without an oracle and a command from God and
without having Him as surety for the future, ordered the high priest ** to
foretell to him what was God’s pleasure and what the outcome of the battle
would be; and when he prophesied a decisive victory, David led his force out
against the Philistines. At the first encounter he fell suddenly upon the
enemy’s rear, slew a part of them and put the rest to flight. Let no one,
however, suppose that it was a small army of Philistines that came against
the Hebrews, or infer from the swiftness of their defeat or from their failure
to perform any courageous or noteworthy act that there was any reluctance
or cowardice on their part; on the contrary it should be known that all Syria
and Phoenicia and beside them many other warlike nations fought along
with them and took part in the war (Ant. 7.71-74 [LCL]).
*According to LXX Chronicles.
**Facts not mentioned in the biblical reports.
With regard to the idol, Josephus probably found both biblical reports
highly problematic. Especially troublesome was Chronicles’ report on
burning idols. Josephus’ solution was omission. Josephus also omitted the
Baal-perazim pericope, probably because of its questionable character.
However, Josephus not only omitted material but also added new elements
to the narrative, for instance the presence of another army along with the
Philistines,76 and the note about David’s asking the priest.77 He also altered
the text and attributed the attack on the enemies’ rear to this battle instead
of relating it to the next battle, as it is in the biblical narratives (cf. 2 Sam.
5.23; 1 Chron. 14.14). Finally, our test case contains also a reference drawn
from the LXX Chronicles.
Our test case is worthy of note because it is a microcosm of the entire

Antiquities.78 Josephus used other versions of the Scripture besides the
MT.79 Moreover, he omitted scriptural passages if he thought it necessary,80
and sometimes he altered the biblical narratives.81 Furthermore, there are
cases in which Josephus inserted a ‘missing note’ into the biblical account
(as with David’s inquiry of God, or the explicit notice describing Ahaz’s
worship of Assyrian deities) (Ant. 9.256). In addition, many times he made
references to clearly non-biblical traditions,82 and even included ‘direct’
quotations from Menander (Ant. 8.144).
To sum up, the points mentioned above clearly point out that one can-
not infer that Chronicles was ‘canonical’ (i.e., fully authoritative) from the
fact that Josephus considered Chronicles a legitimate and important source
for the description of the monarchic period. Furthermore, the question of
the relative authoritativeness of the different biblical accounts cannot be
resolved by studying Josephus’ choices in Antiquities. His choices were
much more influenced by his own theological and historiographical posi-
tions than by a compelling sense of the writing’s relative authoritativeness.
In conclusion, we have found that Chronicles was used by both Eupo-
lemus and Josephus as a legitimate source. However, both historians
approached the biblical text in a very free way, and introduced in their
works references to traditions that never were in their way to become fully
authoritative. The degree of authoritativeness of Chronicles in the late
Second Temple period cannot be deduced from these works.
6. Conclusions
This survey of references to 1–2 Chronicles in late Second Temple period
was intended to assess the relative influence of Chronicles in the shaping
of the living tradition at that time.83 Besides the parallel account of
1 Esdras, T. Mos. 2.5-9, and the material concerning Manasseh’s repen-
tance,84 we did not find further evidence pointing to its authoritativeness
as an account of the monarchic history in the late Second Temple period.
Moreover, the comparison of these data with the references to deuter-
onomistic history in the same material clearly shows that, in general, the
deuteronomistic account of the monarchic history received more atten-
tion. Since both accounts were available, one should conclude that there
was a clear tendency to prefer the image of the monarchic period accord-
ing to deuteronomistic history over the image from Chronicles; that is to
say, deuteronomistic history was more authoritative than that of Chroni-
cles. These results are congruent with:
(1) the masoretic classification of the Scripture, according to which 1–2

Samuel and 1–2 Kings are included in the Prophets, but Chronicles in the
Writings;
(2) its title, Paraleipomenon, that is ‘(The books) of things left out’;85
(3) the fact that the oldest Syriac translation of the Bible did not include 1–2
Chronicles;
(4) the existence of voices pointing to the limited reliability of Chronicles, as
an historical account, in rabbinical Judaism and long after its canonization.86
Endnotes
‘The Authority of 1–2 Chronicles in the Late Second Temple Period’, JSP 3 (1988), pp.
59-88. I wish to express my gratitude to T&T Clark International/Continuum for
allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume.
1. The two books of Chronicles were considered a single book in the masoretic
tradition until the Medieval period (the first Hebrew manuscript in which the book was
written as 1–2 Chronicles is dated to 1448). Linguistic and thematic considerations
support their unity. The present form of 1–2 Chronicles is dependent on the LXX, and
on the Vulgate (cf. 1–2 Samuel).
2. Chronicles also contains several accounts that parallel texts found elsewhere in
the Bible (e.g., 1 Chron. 1.5-23//Gen. 10.1-30; 1 Sam. 31.1-13//1 Chron. 10.1-12; Ps.
105.1-5//1 Chron. 16.8-22; Ezra 1.1-3a//2 Chron. 36.22-23).
3. See, e.g., H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCB; Grand Rapids, MI:
Eerdmans, 1982), p. 15f., and the bibliography cited therein.
4. The Bible as a canonical book is a post-late Second Temple period development;
therefore, the use of the term biblical in this context is a clear anachronism.
5. This seems to be the only method available. An analysis of the occurrence of
theological ideas found in Chronicles in literature of the late Second Temple period
would yield only ambiguous, results. For instance, the idea of divine retribution in
history occurs differently in Judges, in the primary deuteronomic history redaction of
1–2 Kings, in the later nomistic redaction of 1–2 Kings, and Chronicles. However, even
when an account such as 2 Macc. 12.40 clearly recalls 2 Chron. 28.6 (‘Pekah…killed
120000 in Judah…because they had forsaken the LORD…’ [NJPSV]) it cannot be
considered as pointing to the influence of the Chronicler’s historiography, since the
idea of personal retribution occurs elsewhere in the Bible (e.g., Ezek. 18.5-9). On the
other hand, the occurrence of passages recalling the retribution theology of the book
of Judges, or the nomistic retribution theology, does not rule out knowledge of the
Chronicler’s retribution theology. For the Chronicler’s retribution theology, see, e.g.,
S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought
(BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 162-65 and passim;
and Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 31-33.
6. The original setting and date of Tobit are not clear. It is obvious that it was writ-
ten after 515 BCE and probably before 168 BCE. Most scholars suggest a date c. 200; but
see G.W.E. Nickelsburg, ‘Stories of Biblical and Early Post-Biblical Times’, in M.E. Stone
(ed.), Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period (Assen: Van Gorcum; Philadelphia:
Fortress Press, 1984), pp. 33-87 (45). For a critical survey of the different positions in
modern scholarship, as well as bibliographical notes, see R. Doran, ‘Narrative Literature’,
in RA. Kraft and G.W.E. Nickelsburg (eds.), Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters
(Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), pp. 287-310 (299).
7. For a study on Sennacherib’s death, and for bibliographical reference to the
different sources, see S. Parpola, ‘The Murderer of Sennacherib’, in B. Alster (ed.),
Death in Mesopotamia: Papers Read at XXVIe Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale
(Mesopotamia, 8; Copenhagen: Akademisk F, 1980), pp. 171-82.
8. The reference occurs in the Short (Greek) Recension of Tobit (attested, for
instance, in Codex Vaticanus) but not in the Long (Greek) Recension (which is
attested in MS Sinaiticus), or in the Vetus Latina version, or even in the Vulgate. For
the critical apparatus, see R.H. Charles, The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old
Testament (2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913), I, p. 240. See also J. A. Fitzmayer,
Tobit (CEJL; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2003), p. 334.
9. Citation from Charles, Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, I, 240n, and see Fitz-
mayer, Tobit, pp. 4-6. For the position that the text does not refer to king Manasseh,
see Fitzmayer, Tobit, p. 334 and bibliography.
10. Chronicles was probably written c. fourth century BCE. See Williamson, 1 and 2
Chronicles, pp. 15-16. Ben Sira lived at the beginning of the second century BCE (see,
e.g., G.W.E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature between the Bible and the Mishnah [Phila-
delphia: Fortress Press, 1981], pp. 55-56).
11. Ben Sira was a Jerusalemite sage (for a ‘portrait’ of Ben Sira, see the prologue to
the book written by his grandson; see Sir. 39.1-4, and Sir. 34.912). If Chronicles was
‘hidden’ from Ben Sira, what authority could Chronicles have had in the wisdom circles
of his time?
12. See the lengthy dissimilar account in 2 Chron. 29.3–31.21. In contrast, in 2 Kings
we find only two short notes concerning the Hezekian cultic reform (2 Kgs 18.4, 22). It
is noteworthy that the Chronicler not only enlarged the ‘reform narrative’ but also
compressed the 2 Kings report on the Assyrian invasion and its final outcome.
13. Cf. Sir. 48.19b with 2 Kgs 19.3 (absent in Chronicles); cf. Sir. 48.21 with 2 Kgs
19.35 and with 2 Chron. 32.21; Sir. 48.20c refers to 2 Kgs 19.6ff., 20ff., but not to
2 Chron. 32.20 (the only occurrence of Isaiah in Chronicles).
14. Sirach 47 was not found at Masada or Qumran.
15. See I. Levi, The Hebrew Text of the Book of Ecclesiasticus (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1904),
p. 65. Reconstructing the text of Sir. 47.9-10a, Skehan and DiLella have proposed the
following reading: ‘…and daily had his (David’s) praises sung. He added beauty to the
feasts and solemnized the seasons of each year. With string music before the altar,
providing sweet melody for the psalms’ (P.W. Skehan and A.A. DiLella, The Wisdom
of Ben Sira [AB, 39; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1987], p. 522).
16. According to 2 Chron. 29.25 (without parallel in Kings), David the king, Gad the
seer (‫)חזה‬, and Nathan the prophet (‫ )נביא‬stationed the Levitical singers, with their
instruments, according to a divine ordinance given by YHWH through the prophets
(cf. 1 Chron. 15.16; 16.4-7; 23.4-5, 27-32). The Levitical singers are not mentioned in
Sirach 47. In addition, it is worth noting that according to 1 Chron. 23.5, David
designed the musical instruments for praising God (cf. Amos 6.5). This ‘fact’ is not
mentioned in Ben Sira.
17. See, Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 15; and Skehan and DiLella, Wisdom,
p. 526.
18. See DJD, IV, pp. 91-93. 11QPsªDavComp attributes thousands of Psalms (‫)תהלים‬
to David. Cf. 2 Sam. 22.1-51 (//Psalm 18).
19. Both its content and its language are unrelated to 1 Chron. 15.20.
20. See Skehan and DiLella, Wisdom, p. 538.
21. It is not improbable that 2 Chron. 32.3-5, 30 is actually a reinterpretation of Isa.
22.9-11.
22. This seems to reflect the most probable original reading of the text; see A.A.
DiLella, The Hebrew Text of Sirach (The Hague: Mouton, 1966), p. 38ff.
23. For the date and purpose of 1 Esdras, see J.M. Myers, 1–11 Esdras (AB, 42;
Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974), p. 8ff.; E.M. Schürer, The History of the Jewish
People in the Age of Jesus Christ: 175 B.C.–A.D. 135 (ed. G. Vermes, F. Millar and
M. Black; 3 vols.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1973–87), III, p. 708ff.; H.W. Attridge, ‘His-
toriography’, in Stone (ed.), Jewish Writings, pp. 157-84 (157ff.), and the bibliography
cited in these works.
24. For the secondary character of 1 Esdras, see H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the
Book of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 12-36. This
implies a terminus a quo for the composition of 1 Esdras in the fourth century BCE.
25. Although the book was probably composed in Greek, its version of 2 Chron.
35.20 (in 1 Esd. 1.25) follows the MT reading, against the LXX reading of Chronicles.
Consequently, it has been suggested that 1 Esdras is dependent on the masoretic text
of Chronicles.
26. The main supplementary material (i.e., without parallel in 2 Chronicles 35–36;
Ezra 1–10; Neh. 7.72–8.12) is the story of the bodyguards (1 Esd. 3.14-63). Neither this
story nor 1 Esd. 1.23-24 (without parallel in 2 Chronicles) occur in the deuteronomistic
history. Moreover, according to the book of Kings, the first Babylonian deportation
occurred during the reign of Jehoiachin, and not during the days of Jehoiakim. 1 Esdras
follows Chronicles. Furthermore, 2 Kings 25 has no parallel in 2 Chronicles. The par-
allel account ends at 2 Chron. 36.12-13 (//2 Kgs 24.19-20). Instead of 2 Kings 25 we
find another composition, 2 Chron. 36.14-23. All the information found in 2 Kings 25 is
absent from Esdras 1.
27. For instance, in 1 Esd. 1.28 we read ‘did not heed the words of Jeremiah’, instead
of the ‘did not heed the words of Necho’ (2 Chron. 35.22), see also 1 Esd. 1.38, 41
(concerning v. 41, cf. Dan. 5.2).
28. See, Williamson, Israel, p. 18ff. (Note: I developed later a different approach to
the doctrine of divine retribution in Chronicles, see Chapters 2 and 8 in particular).
29. According to Nickelsburg (Jewish Literature, pp. 80-83, 212-214) the core of the
Testament of Moses was composed during the persecution in the days of Antiochus IV.
Later, chs. 6-7 were added to the work, and ch. 10 was reworked. The relevant chapter
for our discussion, in ch. 2, is considered a part of the original core. For a survey of
modern research concerning the date of this work and proposals for its setting, see
J. Priest, ‘Testament of Moses’, in J.H. Charlesworth (ed.), Old Testament Pseudepi-
grapha (2 vols.; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983), I, pp. 919-34 (920ff.); J.J. Collins,
Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters, p. 277, and the bibliography cited therein.
30. According to Sweet’s revision of Charles’ translation (H.F.D. Sparks, The Apocry-
phal Old Testament [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984], p. 608). According to the system
used in Sparks’ volume, < > indicates a restoration of what is conjectured to have fallen
out of the original; bold character indicates conjectural emendation: italics indicates
that the words were not actually found in the text but they were added to the trans-
lation in order to improve its sense.
31. The four would be Jehoram, Ahaziah, Ahaz and Manasseh. Concerning the first
two see 2 Kgs 8.18 (//2 Chron. 21.6), 2 Kgs 8.26f. (//2 Chron. 22.3f.) and cf. 2 Kgs 16.3
(//2 Chron. 28.3), and 2 Kgs 17.17. Concerning Ahaz and Manasseh see 2 Kgs 16.3
(//2 Chron. 28.3) and 2 Kgs 21.6 (//2 Chron. 33.6).
32. According to Chronicles, Rehoboam was the first Davidic king who sinned.
However, it was only a short period of sin, and in his fifth year he returned to YHWH.
33. For the date, and for the proposal about the Qumranic origin of this text, see,
e.g., Doran, ‘Narrative Literature’, p. 293f.; Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, p. 142ff.;
Nickelsburg, ‘Stories of Biblical and Early Post-Biblical Times’, p. 55f., and the bibliog-
raphy cited in these works.
34. According to Chronicles, no king fortified his kingdom or enjoyed peace, if he
did not seek God; but conversely, kings who were pious, in so far as they remained
pious, enjoyed peace or success in their wars. Moreover, they fortified the kingdom,
were not stricken by cruel illness, etc. In this way God rewarded those who walked in
God’s ways and punished those who did not walk in them. For instance, Asa enjoyed a
long period of divine blessing (2 Chron. 14.2–15.19); during these 35 years he was
faithful to YHWH. But see what happened to him from the 36th year on, when he
changed his mind (2 Chron. 16.1-12). The importance of this theological principle in
Chronicles has been stressed in the works of P. Welten (Geschichte and Geschichts-
darstellung in den Chronikbüchern [WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neuldrchener
Verlag, 1973]), Japhet (Ideology), and Williamson (1 and 2 Chronicles), among many
others.
35. Compare 2 Chron. 33.11 with Asc. lsa. 3.7 (esp. the reference to hooks and iron
chains), but cf. 2 Kgs 25.7 (//Jer. 52.11), 2 Kgs 20.16ff.
36. See our conclusion concerning 2 Bar. 64.1–65.2, below.
37. Cf. H. Anderson, ‘4 Maccabees’, in J.H. Charlesworth (ed.), Old Testament
Pseudepigrapha (2 vols.; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985), II, pp. 531-56 (547 n. 3b).
38. Both 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch were composed after the destruction of the Second
Temple, and strictly speaking, should not be considered a late Second Temple period
literature. The works of Josephus present a similar problem. Since our survey is con-
cerned with historical images that do not change so quickly, we have included all three
in the present survey. Nonetheless, it is worthy of notice that these books were
contemporary with ‘Yavneh’, and its social and intellectual environment.
39. For instance, Jehoshaphat’s prayer in 2 Chron. 20.6ff., and Manasseh’s prayer in
2 Chron. 33.13, 18, 19. Compare with the sixth Hellenistic Synagogal prayer, see nn. 57
and 58, below.
40. According to the report in 2 Chron. 33.12-16, Manasseh turned out to be a pious
king. Consequently, according to Chronicles, he was rewarded by YHWH, in the way in
which other kings were rewarded (2 Chron. 33.14, cf. 2 Chron. 11.5-23; 14.6ff.; 17.12;
26.9ff.; 32.5ff.). He became a ‘teaching prophet’ (2 Chron. 33.16), like the kings Jeho-
shaphat, Hezekiah and Josiah (see Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in
the Teaching of Chronicles’, Beth Mikra 28 [1983], pp. 113-33 [Hebrew]), and like
Shamaiah, Oded and the other Chronicles’ prophets; and finally he enjoyed a long life
and was not stricken by God (cf. 2 Chron. 21.18-19; 24.20-26; 26.18ff.; 33.25).
41. ‘For though the Most High at last heard his prayer when he was shut up in the
bronze horse, and the horse was melting, and a sign was given to him then, his life was
far from perfect, and all he deserved was to know by whom he would be tormented in
the end. For he who is able to do good is also able to punish’ (2 Bar. 64.8-10). See the
discussion on the paradigmatic character of Manasseh’s repentance in part C of this
work (Qumran).
42. See Charlesworth, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, p. 628.
43. According to Charlesworth it was written between 200 BCE and 70 CE, probably
in Jerusalem. See Charlesworth, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, p. 628. Others have
proposed Alexandria, and dates from the second century BCE to the second century CE.
Probably most scholars would agree that the original language of the prayer was Greek;
nevertheless, the proposal that it was composed in a Semitic language (Hebrew or
Aramaic) has many supporters. For a critical survey of different proposals, see Schürer,
History of the Jewish People, III, p. 730ff.
44. F.M. Cross, ‘A Report on the Biblical Fragments of Cave Four in Wadi Qumran’,
BASOR 141 (1956), pp. 9-13 (11). See also F.M. Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumran
and Modern Biblical Studies (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1958), p. 32.
45. M. Wise, ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls: Part 1, Archeology and Biblical Manuscripts’, BA
49 (1986), pp. 140-59 (143).
46. J.A. Sanders, ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Quarter Century of Study’, BA 36 (1973),
pp. 110-43 (136).
47. For Daniel in Qumran, see E. Ulrich, ‘Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran: Part 1,
a Preliminary Edition of 4Q Danª’, BASOR 268 (1987), pp. 17-37.
48. For instance, 4Q Florilegium contain s small pericopes of 2 Samuel (2 Sam. 7.10-
11aα; 7.11aβ; 7.11b; 7.12aβ; 7.13b; 7.14a), see G.J. Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran:
4QFlorilegium in its Jewish Context (JSOTSup, 29; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), pp.
84ff. These pericopes have parallels in 1 Chron. 17.9-13.
49. See Cross, Ancient Library of Qumran, p. 141 n. 40a.
50. See Y. Yadin, Megillat ha-Migdas (3 vols.; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society,
1977 [Heb.]), I, p. 70.
51. The legitimacy of the actual Temple and the worship that took place in it was
questioned both in the Temple Scroll and in sectarian and non-sectarian works (e.g.,
Jubilees) found in Qumran. Further considerations raise questions about Yadin’s
proposal, among them: (1) According to 1 Chron. 28.12, 19, the plans are inspired but
not written by God. For this meaning of ‘the hand of God’, see 2 Kgs 3.15; Ezek. 1.3;
3.14. See also Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 182-83. The position that the Temple
Scroll is related to this blueprint implies a ‘literal-anthropomorphical’ exegesis on
1 Chron. 28.11-19. (2) Terms that occur elsewhere in Chronicles in relation to the
Temple (e.g., ‫ ;עזרה‬see 2 Chron. 4.9; 6.13; cf. Ezek. 43.14, 17, 20; 45.19) do not occur in
the Temple Scroll.
52. For instance, the image of the faithful Jerusalem in Chronicles (i.e., during the
period when its dwellers sought YHWH) is totally different from the image of Jeru-
salem in the Temple Scroll. Moreover, the relatively mild position of Chronicles on
cultic purity (see 2 Chron. 30.18) is the very opposite of the Temple Scroll approach.
Furthermore, the Chronicler considered the Torah (i.e., the Pentateuch) totally authori-
tative; and therefore, he tried to ‘square’ contradicting precepts found in the Torah
(e.g., 2 Chron. 35.12-13, and cf. Exod.12.9; Deut. 16.7). Also the Temple Scroll harmo-
nizes different positions found in the Torah, as well as Prophets, but since its claim is
to be ‘Word of God’, it claims its own authority.
53. J. Maier, The Temple Scroll (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), pp. 90-91.
54. 4Q 381 fragm. 33, line 8; see E.M. Schuller, Non-Canonical Psalms from Qumran
(Harvard Semitic Studies, 28; Atlanta: Scholars, 1986), p. 155.
55. Schuller, Non-Canonical Psalms, p. 162, see also p. 155ff. For further late Second
Period temple examples of secondary attribution of psalms to historical figures and to
specific events in their life, see Ps. 151 B (11QPsª151; J.H. Charlesworth and J.A.
Sanders, ‘More Psalms of David’, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 609-24 [615]).
Concerning Pss. 154, 155, their headings relate them to Hezekiah, but these headings
were found only in manuscript "A" (ms 1113 Library of the Chaldean Patriarchate,
Baghdad) of the Syriac version (5 ApocSyrPs 2, 5 ApocSyr 3, MS A). Moreover, the text
of these psalms does not support the claim of the superscription. Thus, the superscrip-
tion is probably a late addition. See Charlesworth and Sanders, Old Testament
Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 620-23.
56. It is incompatible with the deuteronomistic account not only in its approach to
Manasseh, but also with its reconstruction of the history of the Assyrian-Judean
relations. The book of Kings does not mention any Assyrian involvement in Judean
affairs, even less Assyrian hegemony over Judah, since the very night in which the
messenger of YHWH smote the Assyrian camp (2 Kgs 19.35). Thus, according to the
deuteronomistic narrative, the Assyrian role in Judean history was brought to an end
by this miraculous action of YHWH.
57. For the different traditions concerning Manasseh’s repentance, as well as dif-
ferent aspects of the legends about Manasseh, see P. Bogaert, Apocalypse de Baruch
(Sources Chrétiennes, 144/5; 2 vols.; Paris: Cerf, 1969), pp. 296-319.
58. Second to third century CE. For questions of date and setting, see D.A. Fiensy,
Prayers Alleged to Be Jewish (BJS, 65; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1985); D.A. Fiensy
and D.R. Darnell, ‘Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers’, in Charlesworth, Old Testament
Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 671-97; J.H. Charlesworth, ‘Jewish Hymns, Odes, and Prayers’,
in Kraft and Nickelsburg (eds.), Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters, pp. 411-36
(416f).
59. It contains a list of biblical figures, whose prayers to God were heard. The list
includes Elijah and Elisha, according to 1 Kings 18 and 2 Kgs 2.19-22 (without parallel
in Chronicles). It also includes Jehoshaphat (whose prayer is mentioned only in
2 Chronicles 18), and Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.10-13; not in 1–2 Kings). It also in-
cludes the prayer of ‘Josiah in Phassa’. If Phassa is a misinterpretation of ‘Pesach’ (see
Fiensy and Darnell, ‘Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers’, p. 685 n. g), then there is no
biblical account of Josiah’s prayer either in 2 Kgs 23.21-23 or in 2 Chron. 35.1ff. If
Phassa is a geographical name, then the account cannot be related to any biblical
story. The reference to Josiah’s prayer suggests the existence of a third tradition
concerning Josiah (cf. our conclusions concerning 4 Macc. 3.7ff.). The occurrence of
the name of Manasseh in a list that contains all the forefathers of Israel, Moses,
judges, prophets, pious kings, etc., points to the divine acceptance of Manasseh’s
repentance.
60. Further examples in Bogaert, Apocalypse de Baruch, pp. 297-302.
61. The possibility of repentance is one of its most important points in the theology
of reward so characteristic of the Chronicler’s history. Other points are individual
responsibility, individual punishment, and the necessity of warning before punishment.
62. See W.L. Knox, ‘A Note on Philo’s Use of the Old Testament’, JTS 41 (1940), pp.
30-34 (30f.); F.H. Colson, ‘Philo’s Quotations from the Old Testament’, JTS 41 (1940),
pp. 237-51 (237ff.); and H.E. Ryle, Philo and Holy Scripture (London: Macmillan, 1895).
Cf. this ratio with the proportion in the Mishnah, 350:150 (according to Danby’s
index). The midrash Bereshit Rabbah contains more than 1,000 references to non-
Pentateuchal biblical books.
63. All the quotations of Philo’s works are according to LCL.
64. See also Quo Deus 136 which refers to the same biblical verse.
65. Probably a dittography. See Japhet, Ideology, p. 318 n. 373, and the bibliography
cited there; see also BHS.
66. For Philo the LXX version was divinely inspired (see Vit. Mos. 2.34-40). For the
use and status of LXX in Philo’s exegesis, see Y. Amir, ‘Philo and the Bible’, Studia
Philonica 2 (1973), pp. 1-8; V. Nikiprowetzky, Le commentaire de l’écriture chez Philon
d’ Alexandrie (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1977), pp. 51ff.
67. In Philo’s work there is no clear mention of Ruth, Esther, Daniel, Lamentations,
Canticles, most of the Minor Prophets, Ezra, Ecclesiastes and probably also of Ezekiel
(see Spec. Leg. 3.32 – the reference is probably to Lev. 18.19 and not to Ezek. 18.6). This
fact does not rule out their canonicity, and, for instance, compare with the absence of
any reference to Job, to Nehemiah, and to several short books like Zephaniah and
Nahum in the Mishnah. Were these books non-canonical in 200 CE?
68. See C.R. Holladay, Fragments from Hellenistic Jewish Authors: Historians (4 vols.;
Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1983), I, pp. 93ff.; Schürer, History of the Jewish People, III,
pp. 517ff; F. Fallon, ‘Eupolemus’, in Charlesworth (ed.), Old Testament Pseudepigrapha,
II, pp. 861-72 (861-63); Attridge, ‘Historiography’, pp.162-65; B.Z. Wacholder,
Eupolemus: A Study of Judaeo-Greek Literature (Cincinnati, New York, Los Angeles,
Jerusalem: HUC JIR, 1974). For the texts and translations, see Holladay, Fragments, I,
pp. 108-35.
69. See Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 112-56 and esp. Holladay’s annotations to the
extant passages (Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 136-56). See also, Fallon, ‘Eupolemus’, pp.
865-72. For the original title of the work see Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 100 n. 7.
70. For instance, according to the passage in Eusebius’ Praeparatio Evangelica
(hereafter Praep. Evang.) 9.30.8, Solomon became king when he was 12 years old, as in
the LXX version of 1 Kgs 1.12 (for the proposal that Eupolemus provides an inde-
pendent testimony to LXX version, see Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 142); and note the
reference to the 48 bronze pillars that supported the portico on the north side of the
Temple (Praep. Evang. 34.9; see also Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 149 n. 83; cf. LXX
4 Kgdms 3.31). For Eupolemus’ use of the LXX version of Chronicles, see L.C. Allen, The
Greek Chronicles (2 vols.; SVT, 25 and 27; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1974), I, p.11f.
71. E.g., according to Eupolemus’ passage in Praep. Evang. 9.30.3 (see Holladay,
Fragments, I, p. 140 n. 20), David subdued also the Assyrians, the Phoenicians, the
Itureans, the Nabateans, and the Nabdeans.
72. E.g., the dimensions of the Temple (Praep. Evang. 9.34.4) contradict those
mentioned in both the deuteronomic history and Chronicles, as well as the LXX version
of them, as well as Josephus (see Wacholder, Eupolemus, pp. 176f.; Holladay, Frag-
ments, I, p. 148 n. 70).
73. E.g., according to Chronicles, the preparations for the construction of the Tem-
ple were begun in the days of David (see 1 Chron. 22.2-5, 14f.; 29.2-5) but David could
not build the Temple because he has ‘shed so much blood’ (1 Chron. 22.8). This
information is clearly reflected in Praep. Evang. 9.30.5-6. It is worth noting that Eupo-
lemus’ passage contained additional information that does not occur in any biblical
source. Another example of non-parallel information is the mention of Joppa and
Jerusalem in Praep. Evang. 9.34.4 (see 2 Chron. 2.15; cf. the ‘parallel’ account in 1 Kgs
5.23).
74. E.g., according to Praep. Evang. 9.34.2 (Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 147 n. 62; cf.
the passage in Clement of Alexandria, Stromata 1.21.130.3 [Holladay, Fragments, I, pp.
114, 138 n. 9]), the mother of the master builder who was sent to Solomon was from
Dan as in 2 Chron. 2.13f. She was from Naphtali according to 1 Kgs 7.13f. Also, it is
worth noting that the notice in the deuteronomistic history concerning Israelite work-
ing forces that were sent to Hiram’s kingdom (1 Kgs 5.27f.) is omitted in Chronicles,
as well as in Eupolemus. Moreover, Praep. Evang. 9.34.4, Stromata 1.21.130.3 and
1 Chron. 2.16f. point to the existence of a non-Israelite working force in the days of
Solomon. However, they disagree about its ethnic composition. Praep. Evang. 9.34.4
may have been an inversion of 1 Kgs 5.27 (like the Chronicler’s inversion of 1 Kgs 9.11-
13, see 2 Chron. 8.2). This probable inversion is congruent with Eupolemus’ desire to
‘glorify’ Solomon (for Eupolemus’ tendency to glorify Israel and its heroes, see
Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 102f. n. 22).
75. ‫‘ ;פסילי אלהיהם תשרפון באש‬The graven images of their gods you shall burn
with fire’ (RSV).
76. Cf. Ant. 9.188 and compare it with the source 2 Chron. 25.11.
77. Cf. Ant. 6.359 and compare it with its source 1 Sam. 30.7.
78. For a full discussion of Josephus’ treatment of the biblical accounts in the
Antiquities see H.W. Attridge, The Interpretation of Biblical History in the Antiquitates
Judaicae of Flavius Josephus (HDR, 7; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1976).
79. Mainly proto-Luc. for Samuel-Kings. See Attridge, ‘Historiography’, and the bib-
liography cited there.
80. E.g., the ‘molten calf’ narrative in Exod. 32.1ff. Alternatively, Josephus changed
problematic expressions, for instance cf. Ant. 6.155 with 1 Sam. 15.33; and Ant. 6.198
with 1 Sam. 18.25, where 600 heads replaced the biblical 100 foreskins.
81. E.g., according to Ant. 9.253 Ahaz brought the royal treasuries, the silver of the
Temple, etc., to Tiglath-Pilesser, to Damascus; according to the biblical narrative
(2 Kgs 16.7f.), he sent them before he went to Damascus (2 Kgs 16.10).
82. E.g., see the account of the Cushite expedition of Moses (Ant. 2.242) which is
also mentioned in Artapanus (for Artapanus’ text, see Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 210f.).
For the traditions about this campaign, see T. Rajak, ‘Moses in Ethiopia: Legend and
Literature’, JJS 29 (1978), pp. 111-22. For the general issue, see Attridge, Interpretation
of Biblical History, p. 33ff.
83. The sudden end of the extant MSS of Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum
Biblicarum with Saul’s death does not suggest that Pseudo-Philo was intended to be a
‘companion’ to Chronicles (for such a proposal see the bibliography cited in Schürer,
History of the Jewish People, III, p. 326 n. 10), but that the end of the book has been lost
(see D.J. Harrington, ‘Pseudo-Philo’, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 297-377
[298]).
84. Concerning its general importance, see above.
85. It is noteworthy that even the LXX version of Chronicles tends to reconcile the
MT Chronicles with the book of Kings on some important issues, e.g., the explanation
of the downfall of Judah; see LXX 2 Chron. 35.19. On this issue, see Williamson, Israel,
p. 19f.
86. According to Lev. R. 3.1, ‘R. Simon in the name of R. Joshua b. Levi, and R. Hana,
the father of R. Hoshaiah in the name of Rab, said,‫“( לא נתנו דברי הימים אלא לידרש‬the
book of Chronicles was given only to be expounded midrashically”)’. According to Ruth
R. 2.1, ‘R. Simon, the father of R. Joshua b. Levi, and R. Hana, the father of R. Hoshea, in
the name of Rabbi, said the same’, (cf. b. Meg. 13 a). My thanks are due to Carol
Newsom for her careful reading of earlier drafts of the first incarnation of this chapter,
for her helpful suggestions and for encouraging me to write it. John H. Hayes also aided
me in this endeavor.
Part IV
CHRONICLES AND LITERATURE:
LITERARY CHARACTERIZATIONS THAT CONVEY THEOLOGICAL
WORLDVIEWS AND SHAPE STORIES ABOUT THE PAST
Chapter 13
WHEN A FOREIGN MONARCH SPEAKS*
1. Introduction
Several works have addressed the royal speeches in the book of Chronicles,
typically focusing on the speeches of the Judahite and Israelite kings.1 This
tendency is not surprising since (1) the immense majority of royal speeches
in Chronicles are set in the mouths of these kings;2 (2) Israel (or Judah) and
Jerusalem are at the center of the book;3 and (3) foreign monarchs are
referred to only insofar as they interact with Israel or Judah and never in
terms of their own importance.4
The present article, however, deals with the speech of non-Israelite
monarchs. In five cases the narrator in Chronicles presents the narratee
with the (subjective) perspective of a foreign monarch as expressed in the
monarch’s own words, be this in oral or written form. In other words, five
times in the book of Chronicles the narrator directly transmits the speech
of a foreign monarch or quotes a document written by a foreign ruler.5
These direct quotations serve as strong indicators of the character of the
person quoted.6 As such, the quotations shed considerable light on the
world of knowledge and worldview held by the foreign monarchs, as well
as on their use of language as characters within the world of the book.7
Significantly, the information so provided has clear bearings on the ideol-
ogy or theology that is reflected and shaped by the relevant pericopes in
the book of Chronicles and by the book as a whole.
Thus, this work is a contribution to the study of a larger topic, namely
the characterization of foreign monarchs (and indirectly, or at the con-
noted level, the theological construction of foreign nations and of the
‘other’ in general)8 in the book of Chronicles. Since this larger topic is not
feasible within the limits of a single article, the present study focuses on a
particular subset of characterizations of foreign monarchs, namely those
communicated by direct speech. This subset has been chosen because of
particular features associated with the direct representation of these ‘for-
eign’ characters in the book, from their own subjective perspective and
13. When a Foreign Monarch Speaks 271
through their own words, thoughts and feelings.9 Recourse to direct speech
in the narrative serves to communicate a sense of immediacy (and a related
sense of authenticity) to both the narratee and the intended rereadership
of the book. The communicated senses carry affective claims. In fact, the
direct representation mentioned is most likely to contribute to a positive
identification of the original rereaders of the book of Chronicles with the
characters in the book, provided that these characters share the theological
position and ideals of the omniscient and reliable narrator present in the
text, as was likely understood by the communities of rereaders for whom it
was written (in which case they serve the rhetorical goals of the narrator
well). Alternatively, they may evoke a strong sense of distance between the
character and themselves, when the character’s speech is crafted so as to
condemn the speaker in the most unequivocal terms (from the viewpoint
of the narrator and anyone who accepts the worldview advocated by the
narrator).10 Finally, recourse to direct speech in the narrative serves to
enhance credibility, which in the case of a work such as the book of
Chronicles may suggest that substantial issues are at stake.
By way of concluding this introductory section, it must be noticed that
in some instances in which the narrator in Chronicles presents the direct
speech of a foreign monarch, the text is strongly influenced by parallel
texts in the deuteronomistic history.11 So it is true that some of the con-
siderations and conclusions advanced here may resonate in future studies
that address similar issues in the deuteronomistic history. In fact, for rea-
sons that will be discussed below in section 3, this situation is not totally
unexpected. Yet given that this is a study of a subset of characters who
exist in the book of Chronicles, the analysis must proceed within the world
of Chronicles. In this regard, the following considerations should be
underscored: (1) neither the narrator nor the narratee (nor the quotee) in
the world of the book is aware of parallel texts in Samuel, Kings, Ezra or
anywhere; (2) the intended rereaders of the book of Chronicles are neither
asked to skip these texts nor consider them less integrally part of the book
of Chronicles than any ‘non-parallel’ section; and (3) if the world of knowl-
edge of the rereadership for whom the book of Chronicles was composed
included an awareness of parallel accounts in other literary works within
their repertoire – as is usually assumed, and with good reason – then it is
much more likely that the memory of another similar and clearly congru-
ent story would strengthen rather than weaken the message conveyed by
the story in Chronicles. Likewise, the redactional-critical question of
whether some of the texts discussed here, or even any of them, are to be
attributed (originally) to ‘the Chronicler’12 or to a different source13 carries
no real weight for the purpose of the present study, because the narrator in
the book certainly does not know of the existence of ‘the Chronicler’, nor is
the narratee addressed by ‘the Chronicler’. Moreover, neither the intended
nor the original rereadership of the book of Chronicles is addressed by ‘the
Chronicler’ but by the implied author of the book of Chronicles. This
author included in the text both the material that is often attributed to ‘the
Chronicler’ in modern research and material that is associated with that
person’s sources.
2. Gathering the Data: The Five Instances of Direct

Speech in which the Speaker Is a Foreign Monarch
2.1. Huram’s Letter to Solomon (2 Chronicles 2.10-15)
Huram’s words are a written response to Solomon’s previous message to
him (2 Chron. 2.2-9).14 Solomon’s message advances a request for an
artisan (v. 6) and timber (vv. 7-8), and it specifies a certain compensation
(v. 9). The request itself is prefaced by a relatively long introduction (vv.
2-4), whose role in the world of the text is to persuade Huram to fulfill
Solomon’s request. Following the quotation of Solomon’s speech, the
narrator cites the written response sent by Huram, to which the narrator,
significantly, claims to have access. The text cited begins with a praise of
YHWH, David, Solomon and Israel (vv. 10-11) and then moves to Huram’s
acceptance of the request and finally to some of the details involved in the
operation (vv. 12-15).15
For the purposes of this chapter several aspects of the exchange
between Huram and Solomon are noteworthy. First, Solomon is described
as attempting to persuade Huram to help him build a great (‫ )גדול‬house for
the name of YHWH (vv. 3-4) by stressing that ‫‘( גדול אלהינו מכל־האלהים‬our
God is greater than all other gods’). This is a quotation from Exod. 18.11,
with the difference that the term ‘YHWH’ is replaced with ‘our God’. From
the point of view of the book of Chronicles, this change seems to call
attention to and reinforce the message about the incomparability of ‘our
God’ to ‘all other gods’, by referring to both with the same noun. Signi-
ficantly, the text seems explicitly to exclude Huram as non-Israelite.
Solomon’s message conveys to him that the incomparable god is ‘our [i.e.,
Israel’s] God’, not yours (i.e., Tyre’s) god. The fact that the character Solo-
mon is described as having this belief about YHWH is certainly expected,
but this quotation from Solomon’s speech already points to his perception
of Huram. After all, he is attempting to persuade Huram (an ally, not a
vassal, nor anyone who may potentially be counted as an Israelite within
the world of the book of Chronicles)16 to help him in his religious endeav-
ors by stating YHWH is (1) our god and not yours; and (2) a god far
superior to any divine being, including your own gods. Was the Solomon
of Chronicles correct in his understanding of the character of Huram of
Chronicles? Huram’s response, as we will see, answers that question in the
affirmative.
In addition, as far as Solomon’s perception of Huram within the world
of Chronicles is concerned, it is worth noting that Solomon considers
Huram a worthy partner for theological reflection on the reasonability of
building a house for one who cannot be contained even by the ‘highest
heavens’17 or for reflection about Solomon’s own role in the building pro-
ject (2 Chron. 2.5 MT). Significantly, Solomon is presented as a wise and
reliable character in this narrative.
Huram opens his response to Solomon by stating that Solomon’s
kingship is the result or an expression of ‫( אהבת יהוה את־עמו‬YHWH’s
love of his people; v. 10). It should be stressed already at this point in the
discussion that (1) within the world of the book of Chronicles the queen of
Sheba, who most likely never read Huram’s missive to Solomon, repeated
almost verbatim Huram’s written words (2 Chron. 9.8); and (2) YHWH’s
love for Israel is explicitly mentioned only twice in Chronicles. In both
instances those who mentioned YHWH’s love for Israel are foreign mon-
archs who speak from their own perspective.18 Huram’s reference to
YHWH’s love of Israel explains why Solomon is worthy of building the
house for the name of the YHWH. It also communicates an important
feature in the Tyrian king’s perspective: he fully accepts that YHWH has a
particular relationship with Israel (and not with Tyre or any other nation).
But who is YHWH according to Huram?
After the opening of the letter in v. 10 (just discussed), the narrator
reappears and restates that the speaker is Huram. This ‘unnecessary’ sec-
ond intervention of the narrator serves to focus attention on the identity
of the quotee, his non-Israelite status and his royal position. Yet it is
Huram, the king of Tyre, who writes to Solomon ‫ברוך יהוה אלהי ישראל‬
‫‘( אשר עשה את השמים ואת הארץ‬blessed be YHWH, the God of Israel
who made heaven and earth’). Thus, the king of Tyre reaffirms (1) the
unique status of YHWH, by pointing to creation theology (a point not
explicitly advanced by Solomon in his original message); and (2) YHWH’s
unique relation to Israel. Moreover, Huram’s writing style even becomes
reminiscent of Pss. 115.15; 121.2; 124.4; 134.3; 146.6.
Huram’s reference to Solomon as the expected son of David in v. 11b
does not actually follow Solomon’s words in vv. 2-9, nor may the knowl-
edge suggested by this reference be derived from them. Huram’s words
are, however, reminiscent of Nathan’s oracle and of David’s retelling of

that oracle to Solomon (see, in particular, 1 Chron. 17.11-12; 22.10, 12;
notice that the pair ‫ בינה‬and ‫[ שׂכל‬NRSV, ‘discretion’ and ‘understanding’]
occurs in 1 Chron. 22.12 and 2 Chron. 2.11 but nowhere else in Chroni-
cles, or the Hebrew Bible for that matter).19 Thus Huram is construed in
the world of the text as one who is aware of and fully convinced of the
validity and worthiness of that oracle, just as an Israelite should have been
according to Chronicles.
Although Solomon requires a skilled artisan he does not advance any
requirements regarding his ‘ethnic’ background. Huram, however, cares to
provide one whose mother is a Danite20 and his father is a Tyrian. Since,
within the world of Chronicles, Huram rules over Tyrians not Israelites
during Solomon’s days, he cannot send an Israelite. So he sends a person
who is the closest to an Israelite that a Tyrian could be.21
The literary (or rhetorical) effect created by Huram’s decision (as ex-
pressed in this letter) to send a skilled artisan bearing the same name is
difficult to miss. The sharing of the name ‘Huram’ enhances the associa-
tion of the king and his representative in Solomon’s project.22 From the
viewpoint of the narratee and the rereaders of the book of Chronicles, later
references to Huram, the artisan, in 2 Chron. 4.11, 16 likely evoke the
image of the artisan and the person whom he represents.
Huram’s speech in vv. 13-14 carries echoes of the text in Exod. 35.31-35,
a point made by Japhet in her recent discussion of the verses. She is likely
correct that the Chronicler was influenced by Exod. 31.31-35.23 But one
must keep in mind that the words in vv. 13-14 are presented to the rereader
as coming from Huram, and accordingly, they contribute strongly to his
characterization. In other words, the rereaders of the book of Chronicles
are presented with a king of Tyre whose voice echoes the Torah, or at the
very least an authoritative text such as Exodus.
In sum, Huram emerges as a foreign monarch who accepts the Israelite
view of YHWH as creator, preeminent above all gods (including the Tyrian
gods) and one who ‘loves’ Israel. He also holds that Israel (as opposed to
any other people, including Tyrians) is ‘YHWH’s people’. Huram is also
fully convinced of a divinely ordained role for Solomon, and is most eager
to associate himself with him in the building of a great house for YHWH.
Finally, Huram’s language also resonates with authoritative (later to be ‘bib-
lical’) texts extant within the putative world of his day. So Huram presents
himself in this pericope as someone who seems aware of these texts, their
language and even their status among the Israelites, as well as one who is
convinced of their theological validity.
Since in principle the words of a character may or may not be presented

as reliable in a narrative,24 one has to ask whether the narrator (and the
intended audience) considered Huram’s characterization of himself in
this letter to be reliable. The general context of his speech in the book of
Chronicles strongly suggests that he was truthful in his letter. If so, he is a
foreign monarch whose foreignness is, on the one hand, stressed (he is the
king of Tyre), but at the same time substantially blurred by his speech. His
theological viewpoint, thoughts and language are characteristics of pious
Israelites in the world of Chronicles. He is a liminal figure, a Tyrian in
whom the worldview and words of a ‘pious Israelite theologian’ (similar to
the implied author of Chronicles) seems to reverberate.25
2.2. The Speech of the Queen of Sheba (2 Chronicles 9.5-8)

In one of the pericopes of the extended narrative about Solomon in
Chronicles, the queen of Sheba is the main character, along with Solomon
of course.26 Yet from the perspective of a general overview of Solomon’s
narrative, she is a secondary character that comes to the forefront, inter-
acts with Solomon, and disappears as soon as her literary role is fulfilled –
namely, once her interaction with Solomon reinforces the characterization
of the latter as a great, wise king, and conveys the message that YHWH is
the one to whom Israel should be thankful for such a great king. In this
case, the narrator allows her to advance her own perspective on the king
(this is a typical case of focalization), so as to reinforce the narrator’s
characterization of Solomon. Her described astonishment at Solomon’s
wisdom, court foods, temple service as well as the precious presents that
she gives to him all serve this purpose.
Yet by acknowledging the supreme wisdom of Solomon, she is charac-
terized too. She stands side by side with the narrator and with any ancient
Israelite rereader of the text who accepts the reliability of the narrator or
the greatness of Solomon and who associates this greatness with YHWH’s
blessing over Israel. In fact, the narrator, the queen of Sheba and the men-
tioned rereaders all share a common appreciation of Solomon; his wisdom
and the order created by Solomon (see v. 4). The fact that the narrator in
the world of the text and the original rereadership of the book of Chroni-
cles identify with her evaluation of the Israelite king (and of YHWH)
strongly suggests a positive characterization of the queen of Sheba in the
text. Additional indicators reinforce this positive characterization. For
instance, the words of (such a worthy character as) Huram to Solomon
reverberate in her speech (see v. 8). It is not only that both speeches
propose a divine role in the selection of Solomon as king over Israel, but
also that these are the only two occasions in which one finds a clear and
explicit statement of YHWH’s love (‫ )אהבה‬of Israel in the book of Chroni-
cles. It is also worth noting that from the perspective of the queen of
Sheba, YHWH made Solomon king that he may execute ‫משׁפט וצדקה‬
(‘justice and righteousness’). Moreover, she also blesses YHWH for estab-
lishing Israel for ever (‫להעמידו לעולם‬, v. 8; cf. 1 Kgs 15.4 and 1 Chron. 17.4).
All this taken into account and given that the narrator presents the speech
of the queen of Sheba as reliable and truthful,27 there can be no reasonable
doubt that her perspective is affirmed by the narrator and the intended
rereadership.
In sum, the queen of Sheba is presented in the same way as Huram: a
foreign monarch whose perspective and speech are similar to those of a
pious Israelite in the world of Chronicles. Her foreignness is, of course, an
essential attribute: she comes from afar, hears in her own country of
Solomon’s fame (vv. 1, 5) and affirms his legitimacy to that fame as a
superior monarch (note her extravagant gifts to him, a feature that carries
at least some connotation of hierarchy [v. 9] and their asymmetric ex-
change of gifts). Yet, just as in the case of Huram, her foreignness is
blurred, because her theological viewpoint, thoughts and language are
characteristic of pious Israelites in the world of Chronicles. She is another
liminal figure, a Shebaite with whom a ‘pious Israelite theologian’ seems to
resonate.
2.3. Sennacherib’s Speech (2 Chronicles 32.10-15)

Unlike all other foreign monarchs whose words are presented as direct
speech in Chronicles, Sennacherib is a villain in the story, and his speech
leads to his defeat and death. The speech attributed to him and the narra-
tor’s subsequent account in vv. 16-19 reinforce each other and explain
what sort of villain Sennacherib is – or better, what stands for villainy. In
this case, the main issue is the acceptance and promotion of a theological
position that holds YHWH, the god of Israel, to be in the same conceptual
category as the gods of other nations (see vv. 14, 17, 19; and contrast, e.g.,
with the ‘conversation’ between Huram and Solomon discussed in 2.1).
Within the world of Chronicles, such villains do not succeed.
Sennacherib also seems to believe that he and the previous Assyrian
kings – rather than the Assyrian gods – have achieved victories over other
(non-Assyrian) gods and will surely overcome YHWH’s opposition (because
YHWH is just another ‘national’ god). There is more than a hint of the
long ancient Near Eastern tradition of describing the enemy as a hubristic
king or a person who challenges the will of the gods and against all reason
thinks that they can be successful in their endeavor.28 Of course, the topos
is well known, and when readers find it, they have the clear expectation
that the offending character will be punished and their endeavor fail. This
expectation is fulfilled in the narrative, but it is worth stressing that here
Hezekiah and Isaiah have to pray before the villain meets his fate. Thus the
issue is not only what stands for villainy, but also how to confront villainy,
especially that embodied in a ruler who commands powerful forces.
Sennacherib’s address is a typical case of direct speech at the service of
the characterization and condemnation of a (negative) character, ‘with
their own words’ as it were. Here direct speech does not lead to the
identification of the rereaders with the speaker but is meant to create a
strong sense of distance and rejection of the speaker and his perspective.29
In fact, the strongly ironic (from the perspective of the narrator) speech of
Sennacherib elicits an inversion of identification: the intended rereaders
are likely to identify with an ‘anti-Sennacherib’, that is with one who thinks
exactly the opposite to Sennacherib.
It is important to note that Sennacherib’s speech serves not only to
characterize Sennacherib and to shape an ‘anti-Sennacherib’, but also to
characterize Hezekiah in a way similar to that anti-Sennacherib figure.
Hezekiah is explicitly presented in Sennacherib’s speech as one who (1)
trusts in YHWH (and not in his own military power, vv. 10-11); (2) cen-
tralizes the cult (vv. 12-13), which is a most positive feature from the
viewpoint of the narrator and the intended rereadership of the book of
Chronicles; and (3) certainly does not think that YHWH is like the other
gods (vv. 14-15). Thus, Sennacherib’s words serve to confirm and rein-
force the narrator’s explicit characterization of Hezekiah elsewhere in
2 Chronicles 29–32 and serve to elicit further identification with the
character of this pious king of Judah, one of the main heroes of the book
of Chronicles.30
Finally, it is worth noting that although Sennacherib’s speech is surely
ironic, it is obvious that it is not presented as deceitful from the perspec-
tive of the speaker. In this regard, the intended rereadership is provided
by a reliable narrator with a trustworthy speech. In fact, this reliability is a
necessary condition for the condemnation of Sennacherib, the glorification
of Hezekiah and the communication of the theological import of the text.
2.4. Neco’s Words to Josiah (2 Chronicles 35.21)

In the case of Neco, the king of Egypt,31 it is he who admonishes Josiah, the
king of Judah, not to oppose God (‫)אלהים‬. But as the narrator explains in
the next verse, Josiah would not listen to the words of Neco, which are
now explicitly presented by the reliable narrator of Chronicles as ‫מפי אלהים‬

(‘from the mouth of God’; see 2 Chron. 35.22 and cf. 2 Chron. 36.12 and
Jer. 23.16).32 Thus the narrator not only certifies the reliability of Neco’s
words, but also characterizes him as a person who (1) conveys God’s
words, namely, a person who fulfills the role of a prophet, as some kings of
Judah did;33 and (2) is fully aware that the word of God must be obeyed.
Further, according to Neco’s words – characterized as from the mouth of
God – God is with Neco. In Chronicles this expression and the status that
it conveys are usually associated with pious kings of Judah or Israel (see
1 Chron. 17.2; 22.20; 2 Chron. 1.1; 15.9).
In sum, the foreignness of king Neco is explicitly mentioned (and
perhaps subtly connoted by the consistent use of the word ‫ אלהים‬rather
than YHWH),34 but it is also blurred by the narrative, because his role and
words are similar to those of a pious Israelite in the world of Chronicles.
Significantly, both of the two last ‘godly’ addresses in Chronicles are placed
in the mouth of foreign monarchs: one in that of Neco, king of Egypt, here
in 2 Chron. 35.31, and the other in that of Cyrus, king of Persia.35 Signi-
ficantly, Persia and Egypt are the two main foreign powers from the per-
spective of Achaemenid Yehud.
2.5. Cyrus’ Edict (2 Chronicles 36.23)

The fifth and last instance in which the text presents the perspective of a
foreign king by means of direct speech consists of a version of the well-
known and much discussed decree of Cyrus.36 A few observations are in
order. First, the quoted (Cyrus) is presented as someone who refers to
YHWH as ‘God of heaven’ (‫)אלהי השׁמים‬. Although this expression is found
nowhere else in the book of Chronicles, it is certain that Achaemenid-
period Judahites, with whom one must associate the rereadership for which
Chronicles was composed, would have accepted such an identification (see
Gen. 24.3, 7; Jon. 1.9; Ezra 1.2 [//2 Chron. 36.23]; Neh. 1.4, 5; 2.4, 20). In
addition, the foreign king attributes to YHWH the royal victories over ‘all
the kingdoms of the earth’ (‫ ;כל־ממלכות הארץ‬for the expression, see, e.g.,
Deut. 28.25; Isa. 23.17; cf. 1 Chron. 29.30; 2 Chron. 17.10; 20.6, 29). This
position and the worldview that it suggests is consistent with the sentiment
expressed, for instance, in 2 Kgs 19.15//Isa. 37.16) and with what the figure
of Isaiah – as it was understood by the community of rereaders – would
have expected Cyrus (i.e., YHWH’s anointed) to acknowledge (see Isa. 45.1-
3).37 In addition, this foreign monarch claims that YHWH has commanded
him to build a house of YHWH in Jerusalem (cf. 1 Chron. 22.6; and within
the larger discourse of a community of rereaders aware of the book of
Isaiah, see Isa. 44.28).
To be sure, Cyrus is explicitly and emphatically presented as a foreign,

as a Persian, monarch. His reference to ‘Jerusalem, which is in Judah’
reinforces his characterization as foreigner,38 which is itself, of course,
consistent with historical memories. In addition, though, it also serves to
shape the figure of the king who acknowledges the validity of the theology
of the Jerusalemite center. Although Cyrus is unequivocally presented as a
non-Judahite, his otherness is consistently blurred, because he understands
(1) YHWH as the high god;39 (2) his good fortune as the result of YHWH’s
will and (3) that he is supposed to do what YHWH has commanded him to
do (which, in fact, he does).40 As a divinely chosen ‘builder’ of the temple,
his image reflects some of the lustre of the glorious reigns of David and
Solomon, and in any case, in this role as temple builder, he takes upon
himself with the narrator’s (and the intended audience’s) full approval one
of the most important roles ever allocated to the Davidic dynasty.41
3. Synthesis and General Conclusions

Although the instances discussed in this chapter represent only some of
the characterizations of foreign kings in the book of Chronicles, they are
important. First, these are the only characterizations of foreign monarchs
that are shaped through direct speech. As mentioned above, the direct
representation of these biblical characters from their own subjective per-
spectives and through their own words, thoughts and feelings carries a
sense of immediacy to both the narratee and the intended rereadership of
the book. Moreover, when the characters are presented as sharing the
theological position and ideals of the omniscient and reliable narrator, as is
the case in four of the five instances discussed above, the presence of direct
speech contributes to the rereaders’ positive identification with the charac-
ters and enhances the credibility of the text.
This being so, one may ask about the purpose achieved by these char-
acterizations, and especially so, given that the main aim of Chronicles
(and its narrator) is to convey certain theological messages and to shape a
memory of the past that serves to advance them. In other words, one may
ask, ‘Why would the authorial voice be construed so as to elicit this sense
of positive identification and enhanced credibility among the intended
rereadership in these particular cases of foreign monarchs?’
One may begin to answer this question by noting that this study article
clearly shows that in all these instances the quoted speech of the foreign
monarch reinforces the rhetorical appeal of the relevant texts. In addition,
the speech supports the theological message of the narrator and of the
authorial voice.
Given the research goals and parameters of this article, it is worth stress-
ing that all the relevant texts characterize foreign monarchs in a reliable
manner, within the world of the book.42 Once one turns to the main fea-
tures of these reliable characterizations, it becomes evident that they
reflect a tension between (1) a foreignness that is essential to the charac-
ters (otherwise they will not be foreign monarchs at all); and (2) a clear
tendency to ‘Israelize’ their subjective viewpoint and to convey a sense of
‘sameness’ in the human world populated by Israelites and foreigners. It is
not only that these alien monarchs all speak ‘typical’ Hebrew,43 but, even
more significantly, that their words include allusions to biblical Hebrew
texts and expressions – a fact that seems to imply that the quotees were
imagined as aware of the latter and of their ‘authority’ within the Israel of
their times. Moreover, four out five of them uphold positions (and behav-
iors) that are expected of ‘pious’ Israelites.44
Of course, a tendency to ‘Israelize’ or ‘appropriate’ the foreigner is only
to be expected in a book written in Achaemenid Yehud dealing with Israel
and Israelite theology that ‘contains no reference to the nations in their
own right’45 and written within and for a Yehudite and mostly Jerusalemite
rereadership. Nevertheless, it is clear that such foreign monarchs may be
appropriated in positive, negative or neutrally valued ways, and appro-
priated characters may or may not be assigned important roles in the
narrative.
This article has revealed several things. First, four out of five of the
aforementioned foreign monarchs are construed for the rereadership as
positive characters and so are unequivocally supported by an authoritative,
reliable narrator. Secondly, as often occurs in theological presentations of
interactions between ‘insiders’ and ‘outsiders’, the value of the latter from
the viewpoint of the former depends on the degree to which the other or
foreigner resembles the insider. In the cases discussed in this chapter, all
good foreign monarchs must remain ‘foreigners’ to some extent, but at the
same time, they are ‘Israelized’ in a substantial manner (see above, section
2). Yet the characterization of these monarchs as (partially) ‘Israelized’
figures is itself a significant feature. Thirdly, these characters never evolve
into stereotyped, flat figures of a ‘type’ (namely, the ‘foreign monarch’).
The opposite is true as well: each character develops his or her own clearly
distinctive voice and is located in an individual setting (within the world
of the book) that is not shared by the other foreign monarchs. Fourthly,
although the characters themselves serve supportive roles in the charac-
terization of Israelites (e.g., Solomon) or corroborate the narrator’s presen-
tation and point of view, significant roles are allocated to them in the
narrative itself and in the explicit communication of theological messages.
One may mention, for instance, (1) the only two references in Chronicles
to the widely accepted idea in postmonarchic communities that YHWH
loves Israel are conveyed by two of these foreign monarchs; (2) the last
two godly messages conveyed to Israel or to its proper king are assigned
to the two main powers dealing with the Jerusalemite/Yehudite polity in
the Achaemenid period; and (3) one of these foreign monarchs (the
Persian) is directly associated with the building of the temple.
Even if, for the sake of the argument, one were to assert that all features
just summarized are coincidental, resulting from the inclusion of diverse
written sources in Chronicles and, consequently, that no message was
meant to be communicated by the Chronicler, it would still be impossible
to maintain this with regard to the implied author (or narrator) of the
book of Chronicles (as opposed to the Chronicler). Moreover, if one
accepts that ‘the meanings’ of a text are negotiated through the interaction
of the readers (in this case, the rereaders) and the text,46 then one has to
accept that ‘the meanings’ of Chronicles for a community of rereaders in
Achaemenid period Jerusalem47 included the construction of a theologi-
cally construed world in which the aforementioned characterizations
played a role.
If those rereaders identified themselves with that world, as one would
expect, then they assumed that foreign monarchs (and by implication,
foreigners in general) have at least the potential for piety. From these
accounts, the rereadership learns that foreign monarchs (and by implica-
tion all people) have at least the potential to acknowledge and recognize
the supreme deity of YHWH along with the elevated status of Israel/
Judah/Jerusalem vis à vis ‘the nations’ (see the words of Huram and the
queen of Sheba, and perhaps those of Cyrus, too) – to be partially Israel-
ized and, accordingly, to be able to play a positive role in YHWH’s
economy.48
These positions are consistent with the views regarding a future in which
the nations will come to acknowledge YHWH and the role of Zion/Jerusa-
lem and Israel (cf., e.g., Isa. 2.2-3; Mic. 4.2-3;49 Zech. 8.21-22).50 This
feature is associated with a hope of a reversal of the present situation of
these communities. Moreover, it also reflects a certain need to bring ‘the
other’ to confirm one’s position, a feature that is common in literary works
that deal with the construction of social identities.
A final observation: the construction of positive images of foreign kings
in general and particularly those of Egypt and Persia towards the end of
the book, along with the explicit association of the building of the temple
with a Persian king (rather than a Davidide) in the last verse of the book,
cannot but reflect political perspectives within the post-monarchic com-

munity(ies) for which and within which the book of Chronicles was
composed. It is worth noting in this regard that within the perspective of
such (a) community(ies), the meanings conveyed by the texts discussed
here are clearly consistent with the idea that the principal kings of the area
are not necessarily evil, nor do they necessarily oppose the will of YHWH
(i.e., just as Davide kings varied in their piety). In particular, the conclud-
ing reference to Cyrus suggests not only that the rule of foreign kings over
Jerusalem is not necessarily a bad thing, but, in fact, it seems to raise the
possibility that YHWH’s kingship over Jerusalem may be executed by
Cyrus.51 This possibility is consistent with references to Cyrus as YHWH’s
anointed, and as YHWH’s shepherd (both royal attributes) in Isa. 44.28;
45.1.52
Moreover, these meanings are also consistent with and seem to reflect
a particular aspect of the conceptual world of the community. In this
respect, a bright future is one in which foreigners will recognize YHWH
and the role of Israel in the divine economy.53 From the theological per-
spective of the postmonarchic community, this amounts to the partial (but
substantial) ‘Israelization’ of the world, which in turn reflects the broad
sweep of the will of YHWH – not that foreign kings will be overthrown,
but that non-Israelites accept the will and instructions of YHWH (see
2 Chron. 2.10-15; 9.5-8; 35.21; 36.23) and that Israel cooperates with them
under those circumstances.54
Endnotes
* This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution that was first pub-
lished as ‘When a Foreign Monarch Speaks’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.),
The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 209-28. I wish to express my gratitude to T&T
Clark International/Continuum Press for allowing me to republish this essay in the
present volume.
1. See, e.g., M.A. Throntveit, When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and Royal Prayer in
Chronicles (SBLDS, 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987); idem, ‘The Chronicler’s
Speeches and Historical Reconstruction’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L.
McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Aca-
demic Press, 1997), pp. 225-45, esp. 227-32.
2. Comprehensive lists of the speeches in Chronicles, each organized according to a
particular category are present in R.K. Duke, The Persuasive Appeal of the Chronicler: A
Rhetorical Analysis (Bible and Literature Series, 25; JSOTSup, 88; Sheffield: Almond
Press, 1990), pp. 155-76. Only five instances of speeches presented in the direct mode
are attributed to foreign monarchs, see below.
3. By ‘Israel’ I mean here the theological construct referred by this name in the
Jerusalemite-centered discourse of the Achaemenid period. From the perspective of

the book of Chronicles, the people of the northern kingdom of Israel (despite their
unlawful polity) are to be included in that Israel. On these issues, see H.G.M. William-
son, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977),
pp. 87-140; idem, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp.
24-26; S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought
(BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 308-34; cf. G.N.
Knoppers, ‘ ‘‘YHWH Is Not with Israel”: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles’, CBQ 58
(1996), pp. 601-26. From the perspective of Chronicles, however, the only polity, with
the will of YHWH in the monarchic period, was that polity formed around a Davidic
king and Jerusalem.
4. This is not to deny that other issues – perhaps related to the background of
Hebrew Bible scholarship – may have contributed to that tendency as well. The matter
is, of course, beyond the scope of this chapter.
5. The narrator’s quotation from a written source (such as a letter from Huram,
king of Tyre, to Solomon, see 2 Chron. 2.10) cited here should be differentiated from
the (unacknowledged) use of written sources such as the books of Samuel and Kings (or
closely related precursors) by the (historical) author(s) of the book of Chronicles.
6. These are typical examples of an indirect presentation of a character. On these
issues see, e.g., Shlomith Rimmon-Kenan, Narrative Fiction: Contemporary Poetics
(London/New York: Methuen, 1983), pp. 63-65.
7. This world does not necessarily reflect the ‘actual world’ from the perspective of
the historical personages outside the ‘world of the book’, whose names are mentioned
in that world (e.g., Neco). In fact, it is highly unlikely that the worldview and choice of
language of these historical personages would be like those advanced in Chronicles. Yet
neither (1) the narratee in the world of the book nor (2) a rereadership of the book of
Chronicles that accepts the reliability of the narrator are informed by, nor relate in any
way to the most likely viewpoint held by historical figures such as Necho, Sennacherib,
or a king of Tyre who ruled many centuries before the composition of the book of
Chronicles. This narratee and this rereadership are informed of and interact with the
viewpoints of textual characters who populate the universe of the book of Chronicles
(i.e., the Chronicler’s Necho, the Chronicler’s Sennacherib and the like).
I use the term ‘rereadership’ rather than ‘readership’ (and ‘rereader’ instead of
‘reader’) to draw attention to the fact that it is likely that the book was read more than
once by any individual. This is certainly the case, if the book was supposed to be
studied (cf. Josh. 1.8; Hos. 14.10). On the importance and implications of rereading I
have written elsewhere: A Historical-Critical Study of The Book of Obadiah (BZAW,
242; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 4-5, 18-19, 25, 89-90, 260-66; Micah
(FOTL, 21b; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000); Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in
Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003).
8. References to foreign monarchs are likely to carry a connoted sense of repre-
sentation of the larger group; within Chronicles itself see, e.g., 1 Chron. 19.9 (cf. 2 Sam.
9.8) and 2 Chron. 9.22 (cf. 1 Kgs 10.24). This is consistent with the tendency to identify
representatives and represented, which in some cases may take the form of an identifi-
cation of ruler/king and people. This being so, characterizations of foreign monarchs
may serve (if used with the appropriate caution) as a potential window on the charac-
terization of ‘foreign people’, or, more precisely, of foreign people who live in ‘their
own countries’ and do not belong to the ‘community of Israel’. On ‘foreigners and
aliens’ living in and among Israel, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 334-51.
9. Within the world of the book as shaped by the narrator, the words of these
characters are consistent with their thoughts and feelings; their speech is truthful and
reliable. See n. 10 below.
10. On these issues as they appear in Chronicles, see Duke, Persuasive Appeal, esp.
pp. 119, 146; on biblical narrative more generally, see Y. Amit, ‘ “The Glory of Israel
Does Not Deceive or Change His Mind”: On the Reliability of Narrator and Speakers in
Biblical Narrative’, Prooftexts 12 (1992), pp. 201-12; cf. also the summary in J. Sanders,
‘Perspective in Narrative Discourse’ (unpublished PhD dissertation; Proefschrift
Katholieke Universitetit Brabant, Tilburg, 1994), pp. 203-204, and the bibliography
cited there; for a broader, narrative perspective and for a comprehensive discussion on
‘quotation’, see M. Sternberg, ‘Proteus in Quotation-Land: Mimesis and the Forms of
Reported Discourse’, Poetics Today 3 (1982), pp. 107-56. On general issues associated
with ‘focalization’ (or ‘perspective’) – including ideological facets – see, e.g., Rimmon-
Kenan[, Narrative Fiction, pp. 71-85.
Of course, as in any other case of direct quotation, the question of the reliability
(from the perspective of the narrator or one who identifies with the narrator) of the
transcribed or cited speech must be taken into account. Moreover, as in cases of
characterization by a particular action or speech, the question of whether the indicated
character of the personage in the book is temporal or a constant feature in the narrative
must also be addressed. See Amit, ‘Glory of Israel’; and cf. Rimmon-Kenan, Narrative
Fiction, pp. 61-67.
11. See (1) the letter of Huram to Solomon in 2 Chron. 2.10-15 (cf. 1 Kgs 5.21 + 7.13-
14 + 5.22); (2) the words of the queen of Sheba to Solomon in 2 Chron. 9.5-8 (cf. 1 Kgs
10.6-9); and (3) Sennacherib’s words to the Judahites in 2 Chron. 32.10-15 (cf. 2 Kgs
18.19-35 and Isa. 36.4-37.15).
12. ‘The Chronicler’ (and note the quotation mark) as used here refers to a recon-
struction of the historical persona of an individual who (1) was responsible for the
composition of an original book of Chronicles (which is identical to the present book
except for later additions whose existence and scope are a source of debate), and (2) to
whom are attributed (a) the texts (or most of the texts) in Chronicles that are believed
to have no parallel in any source available to ‘the Chronicler’ and (b) instances of
rewording of the original sources at his disposal. It is to be stressed that part (2) of this
definition in particular creates an inherent differentiation and a most significant dis-
tance between ‘the Chronicler’ and the implied author of the book of Chronicles that
is much larger in scope than the usual one between an ‘actual’ and an ‘implied’ author,
because the texts assigned by this definition to ‘the Chronicler’ are substantially
different from those associated with the implied author of the book.
13. Leaving aside the clear cases of deuteronomistic sources, there has been a sub-
stantial debate on whether the words of Neco to Josiah in 2 Chron. 35.21 came from
the Chronicler. See, e.g., H.G.M. Williamson, ‘Reliving the Death of Josiah’, VT 37
(1987), pp. 9-15; C.T. Begg, ‘The Death of Josiah in Chronicles: Another View’, VT 37
(1987), pp. 2-8. The proclamation of Cyrus in 2 Chronicles 36 appears also in Ezra 1.2-
3a. There is a tendency not to attribute it to the Chronicler. See, e.g., Williamson, 1 and
2 Chronicles, p. 419, and see section 2.5 below.
14. Chronicles often refers to written texts (e.g., 1 Chron. 4.41; 28.19; 29.29;
2 Chron. 21.12; 30.1; 32.7)
15. For an analysis of the structure of the pericope see S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chroni-
cles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 241-42.
16. Solomon does not refer to Huram as a vassal. In Chronicles, Huram’s speech
may connote a subjective perspective (i.e., Huram’s) that he is not an equal to Solomon
– because of the use of deferential language in vv. 13-14. In a way, it is expected that
Huram would see himself inferior (or at a subordinate level from a theological perspec-
tive) to Solomon because of Huram’s understanding of the relations linking YHWH,
Israel, and the house for the name of YHWH to be built by Solomon (see below in
section 3), but this does not mean vassalage. Cf. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL;
Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 545-46.
17. Cf. Deut. 10.14; 1 Kgs 8.27; 2 Chron. 6.18.
18. Cf. Japhet, Ideology, pp. 94-96.
19. The references to YHWH’s Torah, and to statues and ordinances given by
YHWH to Moses in 1 Chron. 22.12-13 are not followed in Huram’s speech. The lack
of a potential reference, however, is not a solid basis for an argument about the char-
acterization of Huram. Arguments in this article are built upon the presence of clear
indications of the character of foreign monarchs.
20. Cf. Exod. 35.34 where the artisan Oholiab from the tribe of Dan is mentioned.
See below.
21. Here the child follows the father’s line, because of patrilocality and according to
the tendency for wives to be integrated into the household and kin of their husbands.
Yet, it has to be stressed that had this artisan not been a Tyrian resident, but someone
who lived in and among Israel, according to Chronicles, he would have been an
Israelite. See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 346-50.
22. Yet, of course, the king and the artisan cannot be one; Huram, the artisan, is
called ‫ חירם‬in 2 Chron. 4.11 (twice) but ‫ חורם אבי‬in 2 Chron. 2.12 and cf. 4.16.
23. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 544-45.
24. The usual exception is YHWH, whose words (from the viewpoint of the narrator
and the original audiences of biblical texts) were considered reliable. See Amit, ‘Glory
of Israel’, pp. 201-12, esp. 205.
25. Cf. the sailors in Jonah, who behave and speak as ‘pious Israelites’ are expected
to. (On Israelitization of ‘the other’ in Jonah and its limitations as well, see Ben Zvi,
Signs of Jonah, pp. 123-26; and in relation to Chronicles, see also Chapter 10).
26. On this particular pericope and its cotexts in the book of Chronicles, see, among
others, W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. I. 1 Chronicles 1–2 Chronicles 9. Israel’s
Place among the Nations (JSOTSup, 253; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997),
pp. 368-74.
27. If this had not been the case, then her speech would not have served the purpose
of expressing the greatness of Solomon.
28. Cf. the characterization of Naram-Sin in the Cuthaean Legend of Naram-Sin and
the Curse of Agade (see T. Longman III, Fictional Akkadian Autobiography [Winona
Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1991], pp. 103-17, 228-31); also B. Oded, War, Peace and
Empire: Justifications for War in Assyrian Royal Inscriptions (Wiesbaden: L. Reichert
Verlag, 1992), pp. 121-24.
29. Cf. Sternberg, ‘Proteus in Quotation-Land’, pp. 117-19.
30. ‘The space that the Chronicler has devoted to Hezekiah’s story is one way of
affirming that Hezekiah is the greatest Judaean monarch after David and Solomon.’
Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 912.
31. The book of Chronicles consistently avoids the term ‘pharaoh’, which was cer-
tainly known to the intended rereadership and appears many times in the deu-
teronomistic history, including ‘parallel accounts’. The only instance in which the word
‘pharaoh’ appears is in reference to a ‘daughter of pharaoh’, who married and was
controlled by Israelites (see 1 Chron. 4.18; 2 Chron. 8.11. MT 2 Chron. 4.18 is often
included in English translations within v. 17 [for this transposition see W. Johnstone,
1 and 2 Chronicles, I, p. 63]). On this verse, see also S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp.
114-15.
32. Needless to say, as expected from the literary/theological topos, Josiah meets his
fate.
33. See Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in the Teaching of Chroni-
cles’, Beth Mikra 28 (1982/3), pp. 113-33, esp. 121-22 (Hebrew).
34. Cf. R. Mason, Preaching the Tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1990), pp. 117-18. Caution is necessary here, though, because in Chronicles as a whole
there seems to be no real semantic difference between ‫ אלהים‬and ‫יהוה‬. In fact, the
former term tends to replace the latter. For a ‘classical’ discussion of the issue, see
Japhet, Ideology, pp. 30-37.
35. ‘It is, perhaps, surprising that the last two addresses are put in the mouths of
foreign kings. However, this one from Neco shows that the Davidic line was not nec-
essarily permanent, while that of Cyrus shows that the real goal of God’s purposes was
the temple.’ Mason, Preaching the Tradition, p. 118.
36. Given the focus of this chapter on characterization within the world of Chroni-
cles, issues such as the existence and identification of the original source of this decree
(to be differentiated from the claim in the text) and its historical reliability (in contem-
poraneous terms) are not central to the discussion advanced here, unless it is proven
that the intended and the actual ancient rereaders of Chronicles reread the book in a
mode governed by contemporaneous redactional-critical or historiographical concerns,
but this is highly unlikely. For works addressing these concerns see, e.g., E.J. Bickerman,
‘The Edict of Cyrus in Ezra 1’, in E.J. Bickerman (ed.), Studies in Jewish and Christian
History (3 vols.; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1976), I, pp. 72-108; H.G.M. Williamson, Ezra–
Nehemiah (WBC, 16; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1985), pp. 3-14; Williamson, 1 and 2
Chronicles, p. 419; L.L. Grabbe, Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (2 vols.; Minneapolis:
Fortress Press, 1991), I, pp. 32-36, and the bibliography mentioned in these works.
37. Cf. Bickerman, ‘Edict of Cyrus’, pp. 80, 95-97.
38. Perhaps the more so, if this wording represents or imitates ‘bureaucratic style’.
Cf. Bickerman, ‘Edict of Cyrus’, p. 80.
39. It is also worth noting that whereas Cyrus’ choice of words in the parallel text in
Ezra 1.3 (‫מי בכם מכל־עמו יהי אלהיו עמו ויעל‬, which may be understood as ‘anyone of
you of all his [YHWH’s] people, his god be with him and go up’) might suggest a lack of
acknowledgement of the concept of YHWH as ‘the God’, the wording in 2 Chron. 36.23
(‫מי־בכם מכל־עמו יהוה אלהיו עמו ויעל‬,‘anyone of you of all his [YHWH’s] people, may
YHWH his god be with him and go up’) clearly does not, because this is a blessing
formula. On these issues, see Bickerman, ‘Edict of Cyrus’, pp. 81-82. On other substan-
tial aspects of the end of the book of Chronicles see Chapter 10 and bibliography there.
40. Cf. the situation in the encounter between Neco and Josiah discussed above in
2.4.
41. On this matter see also Chapter 2. The conclusion of the book of Chronicles is
discussed, though from different perspectives, also in Chapters 7 and 10.
42. Significantly, all the speeches discussed here are presented as reliable from the
perspective of the individual speaker and the narrator of the book of Chronicles.
43. The foreign origin of speakers may be conveyed by the association of their
speech with (actual or ‘fictional’) ethnolects. See, for instance, M. Cheney, Dust, Wind
and Agony: Character, Speech and Genre in Job (CB Old Testament Series, 36; Lund:
Almqvist & Wiksell, 1994), pp. 203-75. See also Isa. 21.11-12 and cf. I. Young, ‘The
Diphthong *ay in Edomite’, JSS 37 (1992), pp. 27-30.
44. The exceptional case is that of Sennacherib. Within the world of Chronicles it
would have been impossible to present a positive speech of Sennacherib during the
siege of Jerusalem in the days of Hezekiah and Isaiah. Yet his speech clearly serves
positive goals from the point of view advanced by the narrator (and the authorial
voice), as shown above in 2.3.
45. Japhet, Ideology, p, 53. Japhet’s position about Chronicles’ lack of interest in the
religious status of the nations should be rephrased, however, if the conclusions of this
chapter are accepted and if ‘religion’ implies some form of ‘theological worldview’.
46. For general theoretical issues associated with these matters, see H. de Berg,
‘Reception Theory or Preception Theory?’, in S. Tötösy de Zepetnek and I. Sywenky
(eds.), The Systemic and Empirical Approach to Literature and Culture as Theory and
Application (Edmonton: Research Institute for Comparative Literature and Cross-
Cultural Studies, University of Alberta; Siegen Institute for Empirical Literature and
Media Research, Siegen University, 1997), pp. 23-30.
47. If ‘the meanings’ are negotiated between the community of readers and the text,
then different communities of readers may arrive at different meanings, i.e., ‘meanings’
are contingent on historical (in its larger sense) circumstances. See, e.g., L.K. Handy,
‘One Problem Involved in Translating to Meaning: An Example of Acknowledging
Time and Tradition’, SJOT 10 (1996), pp. 16-27. If the ‘meaning/(s)’ of a text, or better,
‘reception texts’, which are the only that participate in the communicative process, are
contingent on historical circumstances, then references to ‘the meaning/(s)’ of the text
must be marked in relation to the reading/reception community, from whose perspec-
tive, the proposed ‘meaning/(s)’ may or may not have validity.
48. Cf. with the characterization of the non-Israelites in the book of Jonah.
49. On Mic. 4.2-3, see Ben Zvi, Micah.
50. As in other texts reflecting the same views, foreigners are in need of interaction
with either YHWH or Israel (or its representatives) or both to bring forward their
perspectives. Of course, this is a result of the Israel-centered character of the text, but
this fact does not detract from the field of the interaction between the nations/foreign-
ers, Israel and YHWH within the discourse of the postmonarchic Jerusalemite elite.
51. This is consistent with the tendency among Achaemenid kings to ‘adopt the title
and status’ of some of the local monarchs of the past. See, e.g., C. Tuplin, ‘The Admini-
stration of the Achaemenid Empire’, in I. Carradice (ed.), Coinage and Administration
in the Athenian and Persian Empires (BAR International Series, 343; Oxford: B.A.R.,
1987), pp. 109-66 (111-12). The point here, of course, is that this tendency appears in a
document that was written within and for a Yehudite/Israelite community of literati.
52. Yet it should be stressed that within the discourse of Chronicles, ‘worthy’ foreign
monarchs (whether they rule over their own countries in monarchic times or over an
empire that includes postmonarchic Judah) are the only rulers who are presented as
substantially Israelized (see characterizations above in section 2).
53. See, in particular, the characterization of Huram and the queen of Sheba.
54. The observations advanced in the last two paragraphs remind me, for one, of
Bickerman’s sharp words of more than 30 years ago: ‘The whole conception of the
Chronicler shows that he wrote when Persian rule seemed destined for eternity and
the union between the altar in Jerusalem and the throne in Susa seemed natural and
indestructible… Accordingly, the tendency of his work is to recommend a kind of
political quietism which should please the court of Susa as well as the High Priest’s
mansion in Jerusalem… The idea of a Messianic age which was destined to come after
the overthrow of the Persian world power, finds no place in the work of the Chronicler’
(E. Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees: Foundations of Postbiblical
Judaism [New York: Schocken Books, 1962], p. 30.). Also cf. the ‘excursus’ in Chapter
11.
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INDEX
INDEX OF BIBLICAL WORKS CITED
HEBREW BIBLE
Genesis 38.3 177 Numbers

1.1 28 41.45 190 1.45-46 72
4.17 185 46.20 255 1.7 156
4.25 177 2.3 156
4.26 177 Exodus 3.43 72
5.3 177 1.1 28 7.12 156
5.29 177 1.11 114 10.14 156
10.1-30 260 2.21 190 26.33 183
12.10-17 73 8.28 139 26.5-51 238
12.6-7 133 8.11 139 26.58-59 190
17.19 177 9.34-35 139 27.1-7 183
18 85 10.1 139 27.21 258
18.23-32 171, 291 12.8-9 30, 157 31.25-46 238
20 73, 74 12.9 265 32 111
21 73 18.11 272 32.34-38 113
21.3 177 20.12 121 33.1-49 113
22.2 31 22.20 137 36.1-12 183
23.9 137
24.3 278
28.30 258 Deuteronomy
24.7 278
31.31-35 274 5.16 121
25.1 191
32.1 267 7.9-10 36
29.28 190
35.31-35 274
29.29 190 7.25 258
35.34 285
29.33 177 8.33 258
30.4 177 10.14 285
Leviticus
30.11 177 16.6-7 157
18.19 266
30.13 177 16.7 30, 265
19.34 137
30.20 177 17.15 29, 89
25.44-46 241
30.21 177 20.8 128
26.14-45 98, 151
30.24 177 10.19 137
26.32-35 155, 207
33.18-20 133 28.25 278
26.34-35 29, 90, 98,
34 143 29.4 241
151, 163,
35.4 143 207
36.39 189, 190 26.43 29, 90, 98, Joshua
38 182, 192, 151, 163, 1.8 283
301 207 15.16-19 183
Joshua (cont.) 9.8 283 10.6-9 284

15.38 75 11.2 257 10.24 283
15.63 58 13.1 257 11.1 257
15.17 190 16.9 190 11.18 58, 135,
17.3-6 183 17.25 190 136
19.50 185 18.2 190 11.26-28 135
24.1 133 19.22-23 190 11.28 136
24.25 133 20.24 121 11.29-40 120
21.17 190 11.41 135
Judges 21.19 59 11.42 154
1.8 58 22.1-51 262 12.1-24 104
1.12-15 183 23.13-17 249 12.3 135
1.13 190 23.15 249 12.7 136
1.21 58 23.18 190 12.18 121
1.26 185 24.1-25 162, 214 12.25 85, 104
4.17-22 192, 301 24.15 214 14.9 154
5.5 89 24.17 249 14.21 154
9 143 15.1 155
1 Kings 15.1-8 245
1 Samuel 15.2 154
1.7 190
1.1 88 15.2 69
1.12 266
5.2 188
1.25 71, 155 15.4 276
8.2 88
1.45 155 15.9-10 147
13.13 73
2.5 190 15.9-24 154
14.2 62
2.11 154 15.10 68, 154
15.33 267
2.22 190 15.11 254
17 59
4.2 71, 148 15.12 70
17.54 58
4.6 121 15.12-13 70
18 59
5.9 98 15.22 101, 110
18.25 267
5.21 284 15.23 111
26.6 190
5.22 284 15.24 147
30.7 267
5.23 267 16.23 115
31.1-13 260
5.27 267 16.29 115
31.1–2 Sam.
24.20 254 5.27-32 58, 120, 16.34 87
135, 267 16.8-11 115
2 Samuel 5.28 121 17.18 254
2.13 190 7.13-14 267, 284 17.20 249
2.18 190 8.16-18 32 18.42 249
3.39 190 8.22-23 249 19.28 98
5.18-20 257 8.27 285 20.14 140
5.20 258 8.30 249 22.1-28 171
5.23 258 8.44 207 22.17 255
5.5 154 9.11-13 267 22.39 111
5.6-10 97 9.17-19 101 22.41 115
6.12 236 9.18 110 22.42 154
6.2 172 9.19 114 22.43-44 172, 237
7.10-14 264 9.20-22 58, 136, 22.44 70
8.16 190 147, 148
2 Kings 17.24-34 239 Isaiah

2.19-22 265 18.1 239 1.3 219
3.15 264 18.2 147, 154, 2.2-3 281
8.17 154 188 6.10 139
8.18 263 18.3 254 10.28 62
8.19 139 18.4 235, 261 21.11-12 287
8.21 236 18.5 245 22.9-11 246, 262
8.24 172, 235 18.9 244 23.17 278
8.26 154 18.9-12 239 36.1–37.38 245
8.26-27 263 18.13–19.37 219, 245 36.4–37.15 284
8.46-52 207 18.19-35 284 37.16 278
9.27 236 18.22 261 37.38 244
9.28 172, 235 19.15 278 44.28 230, 278,
11.3-4 154 19.15-19 251 282
12.2 154 19.15-20 249 44.28–45.1 156
12.22 172 19.19-23 173 45.1 136, 282
14.2 154 19.2-7 249 45.1-3 278
14.3-4 172, 237 19.6-34 261 45.21 230
14.7 75 19.35 251, 261, 55.3 230
14.22 101 265 58.7 230
14.34-35 172, 237 19.37 244
15.1 108, 155 20.16-18 263 Jeremiah
15.2 46, 69, 154 20.20 111, 246 10.10 73
15.3-4 172, 237 21.1 154 15.4 248
15.5 236 21.1-17 248, 251 19.2-5 213
15.10 68 21.1-18 145 23.16 278
15.13 68 21.2-7 248 25.9-12 157, 207
15.17 108 21.6 263 25.11-12 29, 90, 98,
15.20 116, 244, 21.8-9 239 151, 163,
256 21.16 248 201
15.30 95 21.19 154 29.10 29, 90, 98,
15.32 95, 108 22–23 154 151, 163,
15.33 154 22.1 154, 155 201
15.34 95 23.15-20 141 32.43 207
16.1-20 212, 235 23.21-23 219, 265 49.16 75
16.2 147, 154, 23.25 245 51.25 61
239 23.31 154 52.11 263
16.3 233, 263 23.36 154 52.28-29 238
16.6 234 24.3 146, 221, 52.31 150
16.8 267 248
16.9 235 24.8 154 Ezekiel
16.10 267 24.17 155 1.3 264
16.10-16 236 24.18 154 3.14 264
16.20 172, 218 24.19-20 262 7.26 121
17.1-6 239 25 262 14.20 162
17.3 244 25.7 263 17.11-21 231
17.5-6 256 25.26 207 18 36
17.13-14 239 25.27 150 18.1-20 162
17.17 263 18.5-9 241, 260
Ezekiel (cont.) Psalms 1.4 208

18.6 266 10.4 172, 234 2.28 141
20 243 10.11 172, 234 2.61 190
33.18-19 36 10.13 172, 234 2.63 258
37 207 14.1 172, 234 2.64-65 207
43.14 264 18 262 3.3-7 219
43.17 264 31.6 73 3.8-13 219
43.20 264 53.2 172, 234 3.10 246
44.10-11 253 68.9 89 6.19-22 219
45.19 264 68.18 89 9.2 38
105.1-5 260 10.44 192
Hosea
106 243
1–3 192 Nehemiah
106.19 98
3.4-5 73 1.4 278
111.10 219, 229
5.15–6.1 73 1.5 278
115.15 273
14.10 283 2.4 278
121.2 273
124.4 273 2.20 278
Amos 5.5 241
3.9 73 134.3 273
137.7-9 61 7.32 141
6.5 261
137.9 61 7.65 258
141.6 61 7.66-67 207
Obadiah
146.6 273 7.72–8.12 262
1.3 75
146.7-8 241 8 246
9 243
Jonah
9.1-2 38
1.9 278 Proverbs
9.13 89
1–9 193, 302
9.26 164
Micah 8.22 125, 210
11.3-19 98, 99
1.2-16 152, 291 9.10 219, 229
11.11 236
4.2-3 281, 287 31.10-31 193, 302
11.31-35 192
Nahum 12.17 188
Ruth
2.2 136 12.24 246
1.8 140
3 192, 301
Zephaniah 1 Chronicles
1.12 172, 234 1 95
Qoholet
2.4 115 1–9 28, 29, 37,
12.10 67 81, 174-94,
12.12-14 25 255
Zechariah
1–8 296 1.1 28
Daniel 1.1–26.17 81
1.4 239
5.2 262 1.1-26 81
4.10 73
8.10 55, 56, 73 1.5-23 260
Ezra 1.9 84, 91
8.21-22 281
1 286, 291 1.21 121
Malachi 1-10 246, 262 1.28 180
1.6 121 1.1-3 260 1.32 180
2.17 172, 234 1.2 278 1.32-33 181
3.22 98 1.2-3 285 1.34 95
3.23-34 245 1.3 286 1.35-54 81
1.39 182 4.17 177, 192 9.11 236

1.50 34, 178, 4.17-18 177, 194 9.22 88
190 4.18 191, 192, 9.35 176, 190
2.1 95 286 9.35-44 95
2.3 191, 236 4.19 192 10 39, 301
2.3–4.23 95, 206, 4.27 183, 192 10–2 Chron. 36
300, 301 4.41 139, 285 28, 254
2.4 182 5 53, 128 10.1-12 260
2.10 156 5.17 135, 139 10.13-14 37
2.10-12 156 5.25-26 85, 205 10.14 36, 156,
2.10-15 87, 202, 5.26 205 236, 239,
282, 284 5.34-36 53, 148 285
2.15-17 190 5.37-41 155 11.1-3 36
2.16-17 34, 178, 5.41 72, 155 11.3 36, 88, 119
183, 185, 6.28 87 11.4-9 97
267 6.33 87 11.6 190
2.17 190 6.34 40, 89, 207 11.8 113
2.18 191 6.34-35 207 11.15-19 249
2.21 175 6.52 132, 135 11.17 249
2.24 176, 188 6.53 62 11.39 190
2.25-26 176 7.4 176 13.1-5 172
2.29 189, 190 7.14 180, 183, 13.2 141
2.34-35 34, 183, 255 14.9-12 257
179,184 7.15 183 14.14 258
2.35 190 7.16 177, 189 15 246
2.38 180 7.17 183 15.2 164, 240
2.42-46 176 7.17-18 183 15.15 40, 89
2.46 180 7.21-22 177 15.16 261, 262
2.47 191 7.23 177, 186, 15.20 262
2.48-49 180 189 15.25 236
2.49 183 7.24 34, 62, 185 16.4-7 261
3 12, 99 7.25-27 186 16.8-22 260
3.1 191 7.27 87 16.13 95
3.1-3 189 7.28 132, 135 17.2 278
3.2 182, 191, 7.30 183, 192 17.4 276
192 7.32 183, 192 17.9-13 264
3.4 154 8.8 185 17.11-12 274
3.5 182, 192 8.8-11 181 17.14 130, 149,
3.9 182, 183, 8.9 176 230
191, 192 8.11 185 17.15 89
3.10 188 8.12 185 17.21 89, 156
3.15 155 8.29 176, 190 18.10 121
3.19 182, 183, 8.29-38 95 18.12 190
192 9 91 18.15 190
4.3 183, 192 9.1 23, 90, 98, 19.9 283
4.5-7 189 139 20.5 59
4.9-10 177, 189, 9.2-17 98 21 161
294 9.2-38 91 21.1-30 162, 214
4.10 177 9.3-9 99 21.2 141
1 Chronicles (cont.) 29.1 22, 129, 5.10 40, 89, 96,

21.4 138 138, 163, 156
21.14 23, 162, 215 6.5 89, 156
171, 214, 29.2-5 267 6.5-6 32, 36
215, 234 29.2-9 129 6.5-7 32
21.16-17 249 29.7 107 6.10-11 53
21.29 40, 89 29.20-25 119 6.12 249
22–29 29 29.22 53, 119, 6.13 264
22.2 141 148, 155 6.14 249
22.2-5 267 29.23 230 6.18 285
29.27 154 6.20 249
22.5 129
29.29 88, 285 6.34 207
22.6 278
29.30 278 6.34-35 207
22.8 140, 267
29.15 39, 293 6.36-40 201, 207
22.9 129, 215
34.18 182 7.8-10 157
22.9-10 22, 138,
7.12 240
163, 215
2 Chronicles 7.16 240
22.10 274 7.22 89, 156
22.12 40, 89, 173, 1.1 72, 278
1.1–11.43 245 8.1 248
274 8.2 267
22.12-13 285 1.3 40, 89, 96
2.1 120, 176 8.4 114
22.13 40, 89 8.4-6 100, 101,
2.2-4 272
22.14-15 267 110
2.2-9 272, 273
22.19 236 8.6 114
2.3 152
22.20 278 8.7-10 120
2.43-45 180
23.1 119 8.8 121
2.5 273
23.4-5 261 8.9 136
2.6 272
23.5 261 8.11 286
2.7-8 272
23.15 40, 89 8.13 32, 40, 89,
2.9 272
23.22 192, 193 96, 152
2.10 273, 283
23.27-32 261 8.14 32
2.10-11 272
25 246 9.1 276
2.10-15 272, 282,
26.18 253 9.4 275
284 9.5 276
26.24 40, 89
2.11 173, 273, 9.5-8 275, 282,
26.28 88, 190 274
27.24 190 284
2.12 285 9.8 230, 273,
27.25 114 2.12-15 272
28.4 164 275
2.13-14 267, 274 9.9 276
28.4-6 32, 36 2.15 267 9.22 283
28.5 230, 240 2.16 136 9.24 152
28.5-7 22, 138, 2.16-17 120 9.29 120, 123,
163, 215 3.1 31 135, 137,
28.9 73, 220, 3.2 153 138, 242
235, 240, 3.15 127 9.30 154, 248
241, 297 4.11 274, 285 9.31 119
28.11-13 253 4.13-14 274 10 105, 140
28.11-19 264 4.16 274, 285 10.1 119, 133
28.12 264 4.18 286 10.1–11.4 104, 202
28.19 264, 285 4.9 264 10.1–11.17 197
10.2 135 12.5-6 236 14 52

10.3 127 12.5-7 137, 217, 14–16 154
10.4 120 223 14.1 254
10.7 136 12.5-14 168, 237 14.1-6 52
10.10 121 12.6-12 247 14.2 50
10.15 126, 137, 12.13 72, 154 14.2-15 219
138 12.14 137 14.2–15.19 263
10.15-16 123 12.15 135, 138, 14.2-4 50, 116
10.18 121, 140 242 14.4 50
10.19 121, 130 12.20 242 14.5 71, 101,
11 49 12.34 242 114
11.1 140 13 49, 61, 97, 14.5-6 100, 106,
11.1-4 105 129, 138 107
11.2-4 116, 126, 13.1 84, 155 14.6 106, 114,
128, 137 13.1-23 245 115, 140,
11.3 134 13.2 48, 49, 54, 247
11.4 24, 122, 154 14.6-7 263
123 13.3 140 14.7 222
11.5 105 13.4 127 14.7-14 116, 123
11.5-10 8, 101, 103, 13.4-5 224 14.8-14 22, 71, 140,
106-108, 13.4-9 238 161, 214,
247, 257
13.4-12 198, 239 237, 247,
11.5-12 100, 106
13.4-13 211 257
11.5-23 126, 263
13.4-20 153, 247 14.8-17 52
11.7 101
13.5 127, 130 14.10 56
11.11 114
13.5-7 224, 239 14.11-14 238
11.11-12 116
13.6-7 128 14.12 219
11.13-16 116, 224,
13.7 138, 140 15.1 56
239
13.8 127, 130, 15.2 73
11.13-17 99, 126,
230 15.3 74
127
13.8-9 233 15.3-6 55, 72
11.16 239
13.9-12 127 15.7 50
11.17 126, 134,
137, 140 13.10 127 15.8 52
11.17-21 72 13.11 127 15.8-17 52
11.20 188 13.11-17 198 15.10 71, 107
11.20-22 69 13.12 84, 127 15.13 68, 74
11.21-22 48 13.13-17 132 15.15 68
11.23 114, 116 13.15-18 84 15.16 68
12.1 122, 248 13.17 222 15.17 50, 70
12.1-5 126, 236 13.18 130 15.9 278
12.1-6 36, 170, 13.19 141 16 220
213 13.20 130 16.1 84, 115,
12.2 22, 140, 13.20-21 147 152
152, 13.21 54 16.1-4 84
12.2-5 161, 214 13.22 135 16.1-7 22, 161,
12.4 114 13.23 71 214
12.5 84, 91, 122, 13.27 71 16.1-12 70, 263
140, 161, 13.31 68 16.1-13 108
213 13.3-12 127 16.1-14 84
2 Chronicles (cont.) 20.21 236 24.20-26 264

16.3 84 20.22-25 238 24.22 164
16.4 114 20.29 84, 91, 278 24.23-24 36, 170,
16.6 100, 101, 20.31 154 213
110 20.32-33 172, 237 24.25 172, 235
16.6-7 157 20.33 50, 70 25 6, 44, 60,
16.7-11 223 20.34 84, 91 66, 68, 74,
16.9 73, 236 20.35 84, 153 294
16.10 22, 75, 138, 21.2 84, 91 25.1 154
164, 168, 21.3 114 25.2 172, 237
172, 215, 21.4 72 25.3 153
237 21.5 154 25.4 40, 55, 89,
16.12 152, 236 21.6 84, 263 96
16.13 115, 147, 21.7 23, 37, 139, 25.5 55
154 161 25.6 61, 75
17.1 72, 84, 91 21.9 236 25.6-7 238
17.1-5 36, 170, 21.12 245, 285 25.7 75, 97, 247
234 21.12-15 36, 142, 25.7-12 247
17.2 106, 107, 170, 206, 25.9 61, 75
116 207, 213 25.10 61, 62, 76
17.4 84 21.12-17 36, 170, 25.11 267
17.6 50, 116 213
25.11-12 60, 238
17.7 152 21.12-20 239
25.13 61, 63, 75,
17.7-9 116 22.12–23.1 154
238
17.9 25 21.15 200
25.14 63, 64, 72,
17.10 278 21.18 72
75
17.12 101, 107, 21.18-19 264
25.14-15 63, 235
114, 247, 21.19-20 23
25.14-16 22, 171
263 21.20 235
25.14-22 170, 213
17.12-13 100 21.21 84, 91, 146
25.14-24 36
17.14 84 22.2 154
25.15 64, 76
17.14-19 116 22.3-4 263
25.15-24 63
17.18 84 22.4 72
25.16 77, 169,
17.19 116 22.6 97
18 84, 265 22.7-8 115 172
18.1-27 22, 171 22.8-9 236 25.16-17 64, 76, 120,
18.3 84 22.9 172, 235 170, 178,
18.16 255 23 247 213
18.18-22 173 23.1 153 25.17 64
19–31 221 23.8 152 25.17-20 141
19.4–20.30 219 23.18 32, 40, 89, 25.19 64
20.1-29 247, 257 96 25.19-20 139
20.1-30 22, 161, 24.1 154 25.20 169
214 24.5 152 25.21 76
20.5-13 128 24.6 40, 89, 96 25.23 76
20.6 278 24.17-18 168 25.25 72
20.6-12 263 24.19-25 168, 236 26.2 100, 101
20.14-15 236 24.20-22 22, 75, 138, 26.3 154, 155
20.20 25 164 26.4 172, 237
26.5 116 28.6 24, 140, 30.2-5 236

26.5-8 247 172, 217, 30.5 141
26.6 100, 101, 220, 222, 30.6 131
197, 115, 260 30.6-9 132, 198
247 28.6-8 224 30.8 142, 206,
26.6-7 111, 116 28.7 220 236
26.6-10 111 28.8 224 30.10-11 224, 239
26.7 95 28.8-15 223-25 30.12 131
26.9 114, 115, 28.9 207, 226 30.14 219, 235
116, 247 28.9-10 173 30.16 40, 89, 96
26.9-10 113, 114 28.9-11 239 30.17 253
26.9-15 264 28.9-15 141, 199, 30.18 239, 265
26.10 9, 100, 101, 200, 227, 30.18-20 224, 239,
106, 107, 250 240
111, 114, 28.13 223 30.24 131
115 28.15 225 30.25 141
26.11-15 116 28.16 75, 218 30.26 131
26.15 95, 116 28.17 218 31.1 70, 130,
26.16 235, 236 28.18 107, 218, 132, 198,
26.18-21 264 234 210, 219,
26.21 29, 110, 28.20 75 224, 235,
151, 207, 28.20-21 218 236, 239
236 28.21 218 31.2-31 219
26.22 242 28.23 218 31.3 152
27.1 154 28.23-25 218 31.8 131
27.2 172, 236, 28.27 23, 172, 31.13 236
237 218 32 246
27.3 116 29–32 277 32.1-21 22, 161,
27.3-4 113, 247 29–31 167, 221, 214
27.4 100, 101, 257 32.3 131, 236
106, 107, 29 161, 261 32.3-5 262
114, 115 29.1 141, 147, 32.4-5 246
27.5 116 154, 188 32.5 72, 113,
27.6 36, 72, 170, 29.1-4 233 114, 246,
234 29.2 254 247, 264
27.8 154 29.3 29, 150 32.5-8 264
27.10 101 29.6-9 23, 138, 32.6 131
28 173, 220, 162 32.7 285
233 29.11 164, 240 32.7-8 232
28.1 147, 154 29.16 236 32.8 131
28.1-27 210, 211, 29.25 141, 261 32.9 131
212, 228, 29.26 141 32.9-22 245
233 29.27 131 32.10-11 277
28.2-4 217 30 239, 241, 32.10-15 276, 284
28.3 233, 263 250 32.12 70
28.3-4 213 30.1 141, 224, 32.12-13 277
28.3-5 36, 170 239, 285 32.13 276
28.5 213, 217 30.1–31.1 130, 198 32.13-14 285
28.5-8 220 30.2 131 32.14 238
2 Chronicles (cont.) 33.17 50 35.20-22 76

32.14-15 277 33.18 91, 251, 35.21 131, 231,
32.16-19 276 263 277, 282,
32.17 276 33.19 263 284
32.19 276 33.21 154 35.22 262, 278
32.20 249, 261 33.25 264 35.24 131
32.21 219, 244, 34 154 35.31 278
251, 261 34.1 54, 154, 36.2 154
32.21-22 247 155 36.4 155
32.23 131, 141 34.4 70, 130, 36.5 154
32.25 235 141 36.9 154
32.29 100, 101, 34.6 198 36.11 154
106, 107, 34.6-7 130, 198 36.11-20 90
113 34.7 141 36.12 157, 278
32.30 262 34.8 155 36.12-13 262
32.33 131 34.8-9 72, 155 36.13 231, 254
33 251 34.9 155, 224, 36.14-23 262
33.1 154 239 36.15-16 173
33.1-13 24, 34 34.14 40, 89, 96 36.16 157
33.1-20 248 34.24 131 36.17-19 246
33.3 70 34.26 131 36.20 90, 156
33.6 233, 263 35–36 246, 262 36.20-21 23, 138,
33.8 40, 89, 96 35.1-19 265 163, 171,
33.9-11 236 35.3 52, 131 205, 207,
33.10-11 10, 11, 236 35.4 131 215, 234
33.10-13 265 35.6 40, 89, 96, 36.20-23 28, 90
33.10-16 249 253 36.21 90, 152
33.11 257, 263 35.8 131, 236 36.21-22 29, 98, 150,
33.12-13 247, 251, 35.10-11 253 151, 201
253, 254 35.11-14 253 36.21-23 33, 151,
33.12-16 217, 236, 35.12 40, 89, 96 201
263 35.12-13 265 36.22-23 231, 260
33.12-17 52, 103 35.13 30, 157 36.23 205, 208,
33.13 263 35.18 88, 99, 131 230, 231,
33.14 8, 9, 247, 35.19 268 278, 282,
263 35.19-20 54 287
33.16 264 35.20 262
INDEX OF AUTHORS AND INDIVIDUALS CITED
Ackroyd, P.R. 231, 232, 289 Brown, W.P. 74, 294

Ahlström, G.W. 19, 40, 97, 110, 111, 205, Burns, D. 36, 71
289, 291 Butler, J.T. 242, 292
Albertz, R. 19, 39, 67, 97, 189, 191, 205,
289, 290, 297 Carter, C.E. 204, 237, 292
Allen, L.C. 233, 267, 289 Charles, R.H. 261, 263, 292
Alster, B. 261, 298 Charlesworth, J.H. 262-66, 289, 292-94,
Amit, Y. 37, 143, 239, 241, 242, 264, 284- 299
86, 289 Cheney, M. 287, 292
Anderson, H. 263, 289 Childs, S 36, 170, 234, 292
Ariotti, P.E. 153, 289 Cogan, M. 137, 155, 292
Attridge, H.W. 262, 266-68, 289 Collins, J.J. 192, 262, 292
Aufrecht, W.G. 191, 291 Colson, F.H. 266, 292
Auld, G. 38, 94, 110, 114, 115, 289 Conrad, E.W. 68, 242, 292
Avigad, N. 193, 194, 289 Corish, D. 153, 292
Cross, F.M. 142, 231, 264, 292
Barr, J. 152-54, 290
Bartlett, J.R. 234, 290 Danto, A.C. 134, 292
Becking, B. 19, 39, 97, 189, 191, 205, 290, Darnell, D.R. 265, 293
297 de Berg, H. 287, 293
Beentejes, P. 73, 290 de Moor, J.C. 73, 290
Begg, C.T. 17, 19, 69, 75, 76, 284, 290 de Vaux, R. 236, 293
Ben Zvi, E. 11, 19, 36-40, 67, 71, 72, 75, De Vries, S.J. 39, 40, 68, 71, 110, 115,
88, 94, 96-99, 113, 115, 139, 152, 135, 171, 240, 285, 293
171, 172, 188, 189, 191, 205, 285, Dearman, A. 93, 134, 290
287, 290, 291 Deboys, D.G. 114, 137, 140, 232, 293
Bendavid, A. 35, 95, 290 DiLella, A.A. 261, 162, 193, 300
Bentzen, A. 112, 113, 291 Dillard, R.B. 35, 36, 109, 111, 170, 171,
Ben-Zeev, M. Pucci 73, 290 233, 234, 236, 240, 242, 293
Bickerman, E. 172, 236, 242, 286-88, 291 Doermann, R.W. 115, 235, 293
Blenkinsopp, J. 192, 204, 237, 291, 297 Doran, R. 261, 263, 293
Bodribb, S. 155, 291 Dörrfuss, M. 98, 293
Bogaert, P. 265, 266, 291 Duke, R.K. 113, 114, 235, 282, 284, 293
Braun, R.L. 170, 232, 234, 239, 241, 291 Dyck, J.E. 39, 99, 156, 157, 194, 206, 207,
Brett, M.G. 233, 292 293
Brettler, M.Z. 73, 292
Brooke, G.J. 264, 292 Edelman, D.V. 112, 296
Broshi, M. 237, 292 Eichrodt, W. 35, 293
Emerton, J.A. 97, 295 Hölscher, L. 94, 135, 294

Engelken, K. 191, 293 Houtman, C. 242, 295
Eshel, H. 142, 292 Jacobsen, T. 153, 295
Eskenazi, T.C. 188, 193, 194, 206, 293, Japhet, S. 35-38, 63, 67, 69-71, 73, 76, 86,
301 87, 95-99, 110, 112, 113, 137, 138,
Estes, D.J. 39, 293 140, 141, 154-56, 163, 167, 170-72,
Exum, C. 38, 94, 289 177, 189, 190-92, 206, 231, 234,
236-39, 241, 242, 260, 263, 266,
Fallon, F. 266, 293 272, 283-87, 295, 296
Feldman, L.H. 17, 19, 38, 293 Johnstone, W. 63, 73, 76, 95, 135, 137,
Fiensy, D.A. 265, 293 155, 177, 189, 193, 207, 285, 286,
Fishbane, M. 39, 98, 114, 153, 157, 171, 295
190, 207, 234, 236, 242, 293, 295, Jones, G.H. 110, 234, 295
299 Jonson, G.L. 115, 235, 293
Floyd, M.H. 37, 191, 289, 290
Fowler, J.D. 137, 294 Kahane, H. 234, 295
Fox, M.V. 143, 289 Kalimi, I. 17, 19, 35, 37-39, 46, 54, 67, 72,
Fraser, J.T. 152, 153, 289, 292, 294 74, 75, 94, 99, 112, 136, 142, 208,
Freedman, D.N. 293 295, 296
Freund, R.A. 242, 293 Kallai, Z. 97, 295
Frisch, A. 138, 293 Karrer, C. 194, 295
Fritz, V. 113, 293 Kaufmann, Y. 171, 234, 238, 240, 295
Funk, R.W. 101, 110, 294 Kelly, B.E. 36, 295
Kessler, J. 209, 295-96.
Garfinkel, Y. 194, 294, 298 Kiesow, A. 193, 296
Gaulery, S.W. 191, 291 Kitchen, K.A. 237, 296
Gerlerman, G. 110, 294 Klein, R.W. 36, 95, 133, 233, 290, 295,
Gibson, J.J. 152, 294 296, 300
Goldingay, J. 35, 114, 294 Kleining, J.W. 40, 296
Grabbe, L.L. 38, 41, 74, 77, 94, 134, 141, Knauf, E.A. 112, 296
206, 286, 290, 294 Knierim, R. 152, 296
Graham, M.P. 19, 35-40, 74, 93-95, 109, Knight, D.A. 232, 289
133-36, 141, 233, 242, 282, 289-91, Knoppers, G.N. 17, 19, 34, 36-39, 41, 67,
294-97, 299-302 70, 95, 96, 110, 118, 133, 135, 137,
Grosz, K. 190, 294 142, 157, 171, 190, 191, 206, 233,
283, 290, 295, 296, 300
Haak, R.D. 37, 289 Knowles, M.D. 38, 207, 296
Haas, P.J. 39 Knox, W.L. 266, 297
Handy, L.K. 19, 40, 67, 97, 205, 287, 291, Kraemer, D. 67, 297
294 Kraft, R.A. 241, 261, 265, 292, 293, 297,
Haran, M. 143, 289 299
Harrington, D.J. 268, 294 Kuan, J. 74, 294
Harvey, P.B, Jr 17, 19, 296
Heard, R.C. 189, 294 Laato, A. 232, 297
Hirsch, E.D. 233, 294 Labahn, Antje viii, 2, 13, 41, 174-94 , 297
Hoglund, K.G. 19, 35, 39, 40, 109, 135, Lawrence, N. 152, 153, 289, 292, 294
282, 291, 294, 299-301 Lemaire, A. 236, 297
Holladay, C.R. 266, 167, 268, 294 Lesko, B. 190, 294
Holloway, S.W. 19, 40, 97, 205, 291 Levi, I. 261, 297
Index of Authors and Individuals Cited 315
Levin, Y. 95, 297 Polaski, D.C. 192, 298

Levinson, S.C. 233, 297 Porten, B. 194, 299
Lipschits, O. 76, 204, 207, 237, 297 Priest, J. 262, 299
Long, B.O. 68, 109, 136, 261, 297 Prudovsky, G. 154, 299
Longman (III), T. 285, 297 Purvis, J.D. 240, 299
Lundmark, L. 297
Qedar, S. 297
Magen, Y. 142, 204, 292, 297, 300
Maier, J. 265, 297 Rainey, A.F. 135, 299
Martin, R. 297 Rajak, T. 268, 299
Mason, S. 17, 19, 38, 69, 72, 233, 241, Ratner, R.J. 140, 299
242, 286, 290, 293, 297 Richards, K.H. 206, 301
Mazar, A. 111, 297 Riley, W. 97, 299
Mazar, B. 113, 293 Rimmon-Kenan, S. 283, 284, 299
McConville, J.G. 235, 241, 297 Rofé, A. 171, 232, 234, 299, 301
McEvenue, S. 232, 297 Rogerson, J. 36, 71
McKenzie, S.L. 19, 35-40, 94, 95, 109, Rudolph, W. 35, 62, 71, 75, 111, 113,
133, 135, 136, 233, 240, 282, 289- 114, 170, 172, 233, 241, 242, 299
91, 294-97, 299-302 Rusch, G. 46, 67, 299
Meshorer, Y. 297 Ryle, H.E. 266, 299
Meyers, C. 194, 297
Meyers, E.M. 142, 194, 298 Sanders, J. 284, 299
Meyers, J.M. 110, 142, 298 Sanders, J.A. 252, 264, 265, 292, 299
Mirau, N.A. 191, 291 Sasson, J.M. 153, 299
Mitchell, C. 38, 298 Schloen, J.D. 188, 299
Moering, H.R. 73, 298 Schniedewind, W.M. 37, 39, 40, 299
Momigliano, A. 152, 153, 298 Schuller, E.M. 253, 265, 299
Moore, C.A. 114, 298 Schürer, E. 262, 264, 266, 268, 299
Mosis, R. 139, 232, 298 Seeligman, I.L. 39, 96, 98, 157, 232, 299,
Murray, D.F. 35, 298 301
Myers, J.M. 232, 262, 298 Seeman, D. 190, 299
Shaver, J.R. 238, 242, 291, 299
Na’aman, N. 76, 109, 110, 113, 116, 141, Shilo, Y. 237, 299
294, 298 Siedlecki, A. 136, 299
Neusner, J. 73, 298 Skehan, P.W. 261, 262, 300
Nickelsburg, G.W.E. 241, 260-63, 265, Snyman, D. 95, 300
292, 293, 297-99 Sparks, H.F.D. 250, 263, 300
Nielsen, K. 153, 295 Sparks, K. 72, 300
Nikiprowetzky, V. 266, 298 Spiegel, G.M. 39, 300
North, R.S. 298 Spilsbury, P. 290
Noth, M. 113, 135, 298 Spinoza, B. 20, 35
Stamm, J.J. 193, 300
Oded, B. 286, 298 Stern, E. 110, 115, 142, 294, 300
Oeming, M. 95, 298 Sternberg, M. 284, 286, 300
Ollenburger, B.C. 242, 292 Stone, M.E. 260, 262, 289, 298
Parpola, S. 261, 298 Tadmor, H. 155, 292

Pearson, L.I.C. 114, 298 Talmon, S. 142, 153, 190, 295, 299, 300
Perdue, L.G. 115, 192, 194, 235, 291-93, Throntveit, M.A. 141, 232, 233, 235, 282,
297 300
Tigay, J.H. 137, 292 Welten, P. 70, 109, 111, 113, 115, 116,
Tombs, L.E. 115, 235, 293 137, 263, 301
Trotter, J.M. 39, 300 Wenham, J.W. 237, 301
Tucker, G.M. 232, 289 Wheeldon, M.J. 77, 301
Tuell, S.S. 72, 73, 300 Wiedemann, T. 238, 301
Tuplin, C. 288, 300 Wilch, J.R. 153, 301
Willi, T. 190, 206, 239, 242, 301
Ulrich, E. 264, 300 Williamson, H.G.M. 9, 19, 35, 62, 67, 87,
96, 98, 110, 111, 115, 135, 136, 138,
Van Seters, J. 38, 40, 94, 109, 113, 114, 141, 170, 171, 192, 231-35, 240,
135, 300, 301 260-64, 268, 283-86, 301
van Wijk-Bos, J.W.H. 192, 301 Wise, M. 252, 264, 301
Van Wolde, E. 192, 301 Wright, J.W. 12, 19, 302
von Rad, G. 242, 301
Yadin, Y. 253, 264, 302
Wacholder, B.Z. 266, 267, 301 Yoder, C.R. 193, 302
Weinberg, J. 193, 301 Young, I. 39, 287, 302
Welch, A.C. 138, 301
Wellhausen, J. 35, 37, 70, 163, 170-72, Zakovitch, Y. 232, 301
234-36, 301 Zellermayer, M. 242, 302

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HISTORY, LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY IN THE

Yours Faithfully: Virtual Letters from the Bible

Israel’s History and the History of Israel

The Apostle Paul and His Letters

The Origins of the ‘Second’ Temple:

An Introduction to the Bible

The Morality of Paul’s Converts

Linguistic Dating of Biblical Texts

Symposia: Confrontations in Biblical Studies

Vive Memor Mortis

EHUD BEN ZVI

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ISBN-10 1 84553 070 5 (hardback)

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Chapter 9 (Co-authored with A. Labahn)

Previous versions of these chapters were presented orally at different

HTR Harvard Theological Review

This is a collection of twelve studies, ten of which were published in the

a ‘historian’, since much of this theology is formulated and communicated

Since I have refrained from changing these essays in any substantial

Chapter 4 (i.e., ‘Shifting the Gaze: Historiographic Constraints in

Of course, since the article is focused on ‘shifting the gaze’ in research, it

answer is or can be given. An important theological (and historiographical)

questions of malleability, and lack thereof, concerning temporal matters,

shaped within the text, and communicated to the audience, a sense of

of ideological characterizations of women and their deeds, of discursive

those of the textually and ideologically inscribed inner group), it focuses

THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES: ANOTHER LOOK*

2. Between Human Actions and Divinely

readership of Chronicles is told that such a scale is not retrievable from

3. Between Similarity and Dissimilarity in the Presentation

4. Reshaping of Memory and the Readership

5. A Few Observations on the Social Aspects

1. It is worth stressing that Spinoza then continues, ‘I do not aim at disparaging

OBSERVATIONS ON ANCIENT MODES OF READING OF CHRONICLES

or not. This being said, it is unreasonable to assume that authorships would

2. The Data and its Implications

2.2. The Case of the Person with Two Mothers

two biological mothers? Or that he was born to a servant woman and

viewpoint it would have led to an impossible inconsistency in the referent,

2.3. Two Cases of Removing and Not Removing the Bamot

2.4. The Case of Cultic Reforms at Seemingly Unlikely Times

The intended readers are nowhere asked to concern themselves with

2.5. Cases Involving Time or Temporal Relations

2.5.3. Speeches and seemingly problematic temporal circumstances. Brack-

and not bracketing off questions of historical referentiality. On the one

2.6. Do the Citations in Chronicles Undermine the Previous Considerations?

as an illustration that advances proper ideology, behavior and understand-

3. Placing These Observations within the Context of the General

city was, from a narrow referential viewpoint a Jebusite city, according to

4. Applying These Considerations to the Account

4.2. Numbers of Seirites and Sela Images

4.3. The Case of a Large Freelance Army of Mercenaries

4.4. The Case of the Raiding Northern Mercenaries

Johnstone maintains that since the cities (Beth-horon and Samaria)

4.5. The Case of Utterly Unreasonable Actions

conveyed by the analogous report about Rehoboam and northern Israel’s

communicator speaking to them through the text of Chronicles, that is,

SHIFTING THE GAZE: HISTORIOGRAPHIC CONSTRAINTS

Recently, however, I became more interested in ‘lack of deviation’, or, in

asked to take more seriously or view as more authoritative the non-parallel