Laments at the Destroyed Temple

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In 586 B.C.E.^a Jerusalem lay devastated—the Temple in ruins, the king’s palace destroyed. The Babylonians, led by the fearsome Nebuchadnezzar, had deported Judah’s most prominent citizens to Babylonia. There they lived in exile for 50 years until Cyrus, King of Persia, allowed them to return under Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel. During the Exile, according to the Bible, the Babylonian “captain of the guard left [only] some of the poorest of the land to be vinedressers and ploughmen” (2 Kings 25:12).

Recent discoveries, however, question whether this is really the whole picture. At a site called Ketef Hinnom (the Shoulder of Hinnom, referring to part of the Hinnom Valley that lies west of the original site of Jerusalem), Tel Aviv University archaeologist Gabriel Barkay has excavated a series of rock-cut tombs. The tombs themselves were robbed in antiquity and much of their structure had been cut away by later quarrying. But Barkay could nevertheless reconstruct the design of the tombs, from which it was clear that they originally had been hewed out of the stone before the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem.

Then the unexpected happened. Miracle of miracles, Barkay and his team came upon an unrobbed tomb repository. There the bones of deceased members of a family were collected over the generations. In this particular repository (cut underneath a stone bench on which the bodies were originally laid out), the archaeologists found the bones of nearly 100 different people—plus over 1,000 artifacts! Among the artifacts were arrowheads (perhaps memorializing some deceased soldiers), gold earrings, a ring, ivory, glass, a Hebrew seal, the oldest coin ever found in Israel—and two pure silver amulets containing a slightly varied form of the priestly blessing in Numbers 6:24–26.^b

The large quantity of datable pottery in the tomb repository enabled the archaeologists to determine that the tomb had been used from about 700 B.C.E. through the Babylonian Exile—to about a hundred years after the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C.E.

Apparently some wealthy Jewish families—only wealthy families had tombs like these—continued to live in Jerusalem during the Babylonian Exile and to bury their dead there, together with a significant amount of precious grave goods—all quite contrary to what would have been expected based on earlier suppositions about conditions in Jerusalem during the Babylonian Exile.

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Based on such evidence, scholars are beginning to ask whether the Jewish population of Judah was really as decimated as the Bible at first glance seems to indicate.

Until now biblical scholars have regarded the period of the Babylonian Exile in Judah as a kind of “black hole.” If a substantial part of Barkay’s finds are dated to precisely this dark age of Judah’s history, however, it has, at a stroke, overturned our understanding of the status of the population left behind by the Babylonians.

Because Judah’s Jewish population had been assumed to be negligible—and largely inactive—during the Exilic period, scholars had little occasion to ask what was happening back in Judah during this period.¹ Instead, they concentrated on Babylonia.

That a Jewish community apparently thrived in Jerusalem during the Exile, in turn, raises the intriguing question of whether this community was not also more productive in other spheres—perhaps in religious liturgy—than has hitherto been realized. Did they perhaps offer prayers at the site of the destroyed Temple?²

To answer this question, we need to engage in archaeology of a different kind. Just as conventional archaeologists peel off the strata of a tell to reveal its many layers of occupation spreading over many years, so students of ancient texts work with their own excavation methods in order to uncover the different elements of a text that may have been woven into its composition. There is no reason in principle why all parts of a book of the Bible should have been written by one person at one time. Often, indeed, the biblical writers explicitly state that they have drawn on earlier sources in compiling their works. Is there any reason, then, why we should not examine other parts closely to see whether the same may not be true there as well? That is what I shall be trying to do here. I believe I may be able to uncover—or recover—parts of the stunningly effective religious liturgy conducted on the very site of the ruined Jerusalem Temple during the Exilic period, thereby enriching our appreciation of the attainments of this generally neglected and ignored Jewish community. Naturally, there is an element of speculation about these suggestions, because the evidence from which we must work is so light. Nevertheless, when the results of independently conducted research come together, each aspect lends a certain corroborative force to the others and leads to an increased confidence that the conclusions—novel though they may be—may not be too far from the mark.

What we shall see is, as history has shown over and over again that the human spirit is indomitable, and that some of the greatest works of art and literature are born out of just such tragedies as the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C.E. and the despair that followed.

We shall be looking at three poems or poetic laments—one in Nehemiah 9, one in Isaiah 63–64 and, more briefly, at Psalm 106.

Nehemiah 9 recounts an assembly of the people of Israel long after the exiles’ return to their land. By then, the Babylonians themselves had been defeated. The new rulers were the Persians who, under Cyrus, permitted the Jews to return to their land. We are therefore in what scholars call the Persian, or post-Exilic, period. The people at this assembly are dressed in sackcloth; their heads are covered with ashes; 014they fast; they confess their sins.

Beginning in verse 5b is a long speech that extends to verse 37, one verse short of the end of chapter 9. In the ancient translation of the Bible into Greek, known as the Septuagint, this speech is attributed to Ezra, so some English Bibles, like the Revised Standard Version, include at the beginning of verse 6: “And Ezra said.” But these words are not in the standard Hebrew text and many English Bibles omit them. Of course, if Ezra delivered this address, it would be post-Exilic. The fact that this attribution is omitted in many texts and the fact that it is inserted after the lament begins (in verse 5b) indicate there is considerable question as to whether the poem should be attributed to Ezra and the post-Exilic period. On these grounds, we may easily reject its attribution to Ezra.

A look at the structure of the passage should enable us to determine who first wrote and used it.

Overall it is a lengthy prayer of praise and confession If we omit the attribution to Ezra, the text indicates it was uttered by a group of Levites on behalf of the post-Exilic community (Nehemiah 9:5a). After a hymnic introduction (Nehemiah 9:5b), it proceeds to recount at some length Israel’s history—beginning with creation and ending, as we will see, with the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem.

The first verse (Nehemiah 9:6) tells of creation and God’s unqualified achievement therein:

“Thou art the Lord, thou alone; thou hast made heaven, the heaven of the heavens, with all their host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them; and thou preservest all of them; and the host of heaven worships thee.”

The next two verses (verses 7–8) recount God’s choosing of Abraham and the covenant God made to give his descendants the land of Israel—a promise God fulfilled.

Then comes a long passage about Israel’s enslavement in Egypt and God’s rescue, ending with the conquest of Canaan (verses 9–25). We hear of God’s gracious provisions during the Israelites’ wilderness wanderings: He guides them on the journey with a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, he gives them laws to live by, provides manna for them to eat—and he renews his promise to give them the land (verse 15b). All this is matched, however, only by the people’s ungrateful rebellion; but despite this, God mercifully refrains from removing from them the provisions he had previously made.

This survey of Israel’s history concludes with Israel’s entry into, and life in, the land (verses 22–31). Like the previous section, it starts with a passage that speaks exclusively of God’s goodness in providing for his people, then proceeds to much talk of rejection and rebellion and finally concludes on a renewed note of God’s continuing mercy.

There is one crucial point about the people’s rebellion in this historical section. It does not speak of a single act of rebellion, but rather of a cycle that repeats itself more than once. First the people sin; then they are handed over to a foreign power; then they cry to God for help; and finally, God responds with mercy and deliverance. A careful reading indicates that this cycle repeats itself three times: (1) verses 26–27; (2) verse 28; (3) verses 29–31.

Within these three cycles there is a certain intensification of the severity of God’s judgment from one to the next. The first time, God “give[s] them into the hand of their enemies, who made them suffer” (verse 27). The next time God “abandon[s] them to the hand of their enemies, so that they had dominion over them” (verse 28). The third time God “give[s] them into the hand of the peoples of the lands [the superpower of the time]” (verse 30). This was probably meant as the strongest divine judgment of all. Because it comes right at the end of the historical survey, we must presume that it refers to the Babylonian conquest. This seems confirmed by the words that follow: “You did not make a full end to [the people of Israel]” (verse 31). This would hardly have been said unless it had been, as the Babylonian destruction certainly was, a close call!

The next point to notice—a very important one—is that the third cycle is in fact broken off halfway through. Rebellion and handing over to a foreign power are not on this occasion followed by the expected elements of cry to God and deliverance. The reason for this is all too obvious. It has not occurred.

Instead of recording the people’s cry for help as part of an historical account, the point of view shifts. The narrator catches himself and changes from a historical perspective to a current cry for help addressed directly to the deity (verses 32–37). The words of confession And lament arise from the present situation. The description of a land and a people in bondage is a holding up to God of the situation that now exists in the light of all that the past has revealed of his character and of his promise of the land, in the expectation that he will once again “hear from heaven” and respond with deliverance.³

We can now tackle the question as to who might originally have composed this piece. Naturally, our thoughts turn first to the post-Exilic circle to which the remainder of the books of Ezra and Nehemiah are generally attributed. But the prevailing ideology of these books is very different from that which pervades our prayer. As is well known, these two books take a generally quite favorable stance towards the ruling Persian kings. The key element that unifies the major sources and the editorial work in the books of 015Ezra and Nehemiah is the benevolence of the Persian kings, especially Cyrus, toward the Jews. Except for this prayer, there is not a hint in the rest of these books of any desire on the part of the Jews for a major political upheaval.

In the closing stanza of our prayer, however, the author clearly regards Judah’s current political status as a subservient province in a larger empire as oppressive. Here the Jews are living in a period of divine chastisement similar to periods in the pre-Exilic period.

More than that, in the author’s view, God’s promise of the land demands Jewish sovereignty in that land, free from any external interference; the author therefore anticipates an imminent and dramatic upheaval in the prevailing circumstances. And they have not yet been delivered. This is far different from anything else we find in Ezra or Nehemiah.

We may compare this prayer in Nehemiah 9 with another prayer—placed in the mouth of Ezra in Ezra 9:6–15. In the latter prayer, Ezra confesses that “we are servants,” but he then immediately qualifies this with an acknowledgment that God has not abandoned his people but rather has shown his favor—through the good will of the Persian kings:

“For we are bondmen; yet our God has not forsaken us in our bondage, but has extended to us his steadfast love before the kings of Persia, to grant us some reviving to set up the house of our God, to repair its ruins, and to give us protection in Judea and Jerusalem” (Ezra 9:9).

In Nehemiah 9, by contrast, we are told that because previous generations did not serve the Lord, “we are servants now [this day]” (Nehemiah 9:36).

As Nehemiah 9 fails to fit easily into the thought-world of the remainder of the books of Ezra and Nehemiah, no more does it belong with other post-Exilic works. For example, there is nothing of the messianic fervor of a prophet like Haggai; nor does 016Nehemiah 9 even mention the Davidic dynasty and the Temple, so important to the Book of Chronicles.

There is another curious fact about the prayer in Nehemiah. The Exile itself is nowhere mentioned. There is an allusion to the Babylonian conquest in verses 30–31 but this is part of a series of disasters experienced within the land in the earlier history of the people. Most biblical texts regard the destruction of Jerusalem as a disaster of a different and greater order because of the unprecedented experience of Exile to which it led. In Nehemiah 9, however, it is only another (even if the worst) of a continuing series of conquests. This can only be, I suggest, the viewpoint of those who were not taken into Exile but who remained in the land.

We are so accustomed to regarding the Babylonian conquest from the viewpoint of those who went into Exile that we easily overlook the fact that things must have seemed very different for those who remained behind. They, no doubt, would have believed that the Exile was indeed God’s judgment on the people in Exile, but those who stayed in Jerusalem remained alive to the possibility of restoration as previous generations had experienced it.

All in all, I believe that we can conclude that here we have a lament of those who remained in Jerusalem after the Babylonian destruction.

If this is accepted, how did it come about that this prayer found its way into the Book of Nehemiah? It is reasonable to assume that this prayer was not just the private composition of a gifted individual. Already during the long years of Exile it had become a vital part of the public religious life of the community left behind in the land as they gathered together to implore God’s restoring mercy. Even when such prayers were no longer strictly necessary, after the Second Temple had been built, this prayer continued to form a vital part of Jewish liturgical worship and so became part of the property of the post-Exilic community at large. This would not be unusual. After all, the Psalter is full of psalms that soon lost their original significance but which have continued to furnish the Judeo-Christian tradition with a rich storehouse of prayers and praises for every generation in multitudinously different settings. It is thus reasonable to infer that the Levites in the post-Exilic period, when the books of Ezra and Nehemiah were created, drew on their knowledge of this prayer when leading the people in confession.

Having excavated a liturgical prayer used by the Jerusalem community after the Babylonian destruction, let me see if I can find one more such passage—this time embedded in the Book of Isaiah.

Traditionally, the Book of Isaiah has been thought to have been the work of the prophet of that name who lived in the eighth century B.C.E., long before the Babylonian destruction in 586 B.C.E. Few scholars today would defend this traditional position, however. The traditional view faces almost insuperable difficulties beginning with chapter 40. Chapters 40–55 presuppose that the people are already in Exile in Babylon and addresses them from that vantage point. This cannot have been the case in the eighth century B.C.E. Simply doubting the possibility of predictive prophecy would, perhaps, not be enough to undermine the traditional view of the book’s unitary composition. But in chapters 40–55, the prophet speaks not as a predictor of Exile, but as someone in Exile. Thus, for example, in Isaiah 41:25–29, in attempting to convince the people of his integrity as a prophet, he points out that certain prophecies have already been proved true. Then, later, the prophet tells the people not to remember the things God did before because now God will do a new thing: He will make a way in the wilderness, rivers in the desert for his people to go back home (Isaiah 43:18–19). In my opinion, it is impossible to suppose, if words are to have any meaning at all, that he is not present with the people in the situation—Exile—of which he speaks. Thus I agree with the consensus of scholars who refer to chapters 40–55 of Isaiah as the work of another prophet, commonly referred to as deutero-Isaiah.

But beginning in chapter 56 and extending to the end of the book (chapter 66), the situation changes yet again. There is far less agreement among scholars as to when exactly the various passages in chapters 56 through 66, sometimes called trito-Isaiah, should be dated. Moreover, there is much less unity among the oracles in this section of the book than in chapters 40–55, so many scholars believe that these final chapters are the work of more than one person. On the other hand, the situation presupposed in these final chapters seems clearly to be that of the post-Exilic community back in Jerusalem; nevertheless, there are far fewer specific allusions than in chapters 40–55 that enable us to tie down these last chapters to any specific period or event. Many scholars therefore believe that chapters 56–66 contain a variety of oracles from several different dates.

The prayer in Isaiah that I wish to examine is in this last series of oracles—in chapter 63:7 through 64:12. It is widely agreed that this passage forms a separate section, not least because it is more like a psalm than what we normally think of as prophecy: It recites God’s saving acts on behalf of his people (Isaiah 63:7–14) and then proceeds with a passionate prayer that God will once more act on behalf of his people as he has in the past (Isaiah 63:15–64:12).

Some commentators have already proposed that this passage was written as a lament by the Jerusalem community who did not leave during the period of the Babylonian Exile.⁴ This is suggested principally 017by the situation envisaged at the end of the passage.⁵ Jerusalem is in ruins, as are the other cities of Judah, and the Temple has been destroyed:

“Thy holy cities have become a wilderness,

Zion has become a wilderness,

Jerusalem a desolation.

Our holy and beautiful house,

where our fathers praised thee,

has been burned by fire,

and all our pleasant places have become ruins.

Wilt thou restrain thyself at these things,

O Lord?

Wilt thou keep silent, and afflict us sorely?”

Isaiah 64:10–12

The entire passage in Isaiah (63:7–64:12) contains a number of points that connect nicely with the passage from Nehemiah we previously examined. If our conclusions about the passage from Nehemiah are sound, they should give additional support to the contention that the passage from Isaiah is also a lament from Jerusalem during the Exilic period focusing on the destroyed and deserted Temple.

Several distinctive details suggest a relationship between the passage from Nehemiah and the passage from Isaiah. For instance, only in these two passages in the entire Hebrew Bible is there a reference to God’s Spirit (ruach) in connection with Israel’s wilderness wanderings (Nehemiah 9:20; Isaiah 63:11. In both passages, we find events from the Exodus singled out as having “made a name” for the Lord (Nehemiah 9:10; Isaiah 63:12, 14). This phrase occurs with respect to God only in two other places in the Hebrew Bible—in Daniel 19:15 and Jeremiah 32:20. The passage in Daniel is probably dependent on Nehemiah 9; the passage in Jeremiah is in a context that also compares closely with Nehemiah and which looks forward to a time of exile (Jeremiah 32:24–25).

But beyond such connections in details (and others that could be mentioned), it is the similarity in overall “shape” between the passage in Nehemiah and the passage in Isaiah that impresses most. This is especially true in the closing paragraph of each. Each closing paragraph contains an appeal to God which begins “But now” (Nehemiah 9:32; Isaiah 64:8). Each then moves to a title for God that picks up a central aspect of his character as elaborated earlier. In Isaiah 64:8 it is “you are our father” (repeating the use of “our father” in Isaiah 63:16). In Nehemiah 9:32 the tide is more elaborate— “the great, mighty and awesome God, who keeps his covenant and steadfast love” (echoing “Thou art a God ready to forgive, gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and didst not forsake them” in Nehemiah 9:17; “thou art righteous” in Nehemiah 9:8; and the references to the qualities of mercy in Nehemiah 9:27 and 9:31). Both passages then hold up to God his people’s state of need, based on a previous recital of details—in Isaiah 64:10–11 it 044is Jerusalem in ruins and the Temple destroyed; in Nehemiah 9:36–37 it is the lack of sovereignty over their land. Both these passages emphasize that “we” are failing to enjoy what “our fathers” once enjoyed (Isaiah 64:11; Nehemiah 9:36). And finally, in each case, despite the intensity of the writers’ feelings, there is no specific request, only a laying before God of the source of the distress.

This last point raises one further interesting line of investigation. It is obvious that both these passages share many features with a number of the Psalms. But if we look beyond their similarity to psalms in general to a more detailed examination of the overall structure of the passages from Nehemiah and Isaiah, we find something quite starting. Each begins with a hymnic introduction (Nehemiah 9:5b: “Stand up and bless the Lord your God from everlasting to everlasting,” etc.; Isaiah 63:7: “I will recount the steadfast love of the Lord, the praises of the Lord,” etc.). Then comes a historical recital used as a vehicle for confession of sin and faithlessness. Each then concludes with an appeal for salvation. In fact, this combination recurs only in one psalm, Psalm 106.⁶

My proposal, then, is that these three passages—Nehemiah 9:5b–37; Isaiah 63:7–64:12; Psalm 106—should be taken together as shedding new light on the nature of the liturgy recited on the ruined site of the Jerusalem Temple during the Exilic period. It is true that with the completion of the building of the Second Temple such liturgies were no longer necessary in their primary setting; but this does not mean they were forgotten. Indeed, it is a testimony to their religious insights and to the intensity of their expression that these passages were taken up again by the post-Exilic Jewish community and so given a wider application—one in a book of Israelite history (Nehemiah), another in a book of the prophets (Isaiah) and still another among the Psalms.

In 86 B.C.E.a Jerusalem lay devastated—the Temple in ruins, the king’s palace destroyed. The Babylonians, led by the fearsome Nebuchadnezzar, had deported Judah’s most prominent citizens to Babylonia. There they lived in exile for 50 years until Cyrus, King of Persia, allowed them to return under Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel. During the Exile, according to the Bible, the Babylonian “captain of the guard left [only] some of the poorest of the land to be vinedressers and ploughmen” (2 Kings 25:12). Recent discoveries, however, question whether this is really the whole picture. At a site called Ketef Hinnom (the Shoulder of […]