//Ever read this chapter in the Bible? It’s the awe-inspiring story of the glorious construction of Solomon’s Temple. It takes 38 verses to describe this magnificent construction, ending with this final verse in the chapter:

He had spent seven years building it. –1 Kings 6:38

Then comes the seventh chapter, which begins with this dry comment:

It took Solomon thirteen years, however, to complete the construction of his palace. –1 Kings 7:1

Now we embark on a description of Solomon’s palace, which turns out to be a hundred cubits long, fifty wide, and thirty cubits high, totally dwarfing the sacred temple. Priorities, right?

//We continue our discussion from yesterday about whether Israel conquered the promised land. Archaeological evidence seems to tell a much messier story than the simple, sweeping genocide described by the Bible. Yet, the period immediately following the supposed conquest shows considerable growth in population. So what really happened, and how did Israel really happen to settle in the land of Canaan?

Four possibilities have been proposed by scholars, as described in The Meaning of the Bible, by Douglas A. Knight and Am-Jill Levine:

1. There is at least some evidence of combat in the period, though of course by far fewer troops than the 600,000 invading army described by the Bible. Could a much lesser invasion have occurred, which then grew into legend?

2. The territory seems to have been pretty much a political vacuum at the time, and some scholars consider “Israel’s” settling there to be more of a peaceful immigration of people from Southwest Asia.

3. Or did Israel rise up from within? Perhaps peasants from city-states in the valleys and coastal plains rebelled or escaped oppression, settling in the Canaanite highlands.

4. The scenario the authors find most likely is a cultural-evolution model. Population did increase dramatically in the 12th and 11th centuries BC, and there were numerous ethnic groups in the area. The Bible refers to Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites. A peaceful convergence of farming and herding seems probable.

But is it not possible that all scenarios contain an element of truth, culminating eventually in cultural evolution? This question brings us to today’s verse, describing a “mixed multitude” of people among the Hebrews as they left Egypt. Israel’s legends of battle surely sprang from minor scuffles, and the legends also attempt to explain the merging of peoples. In reality, however, this convergence probably occurred in later centuries within the promised land rather than during the exodus.

If you find the stories of divinely sanctioned genocide in the Bible to be disturbing, at odds with the God of love you’ve come to know, then you can rest assured no such thing happened.

Now the children of Judah fought against Jerusalem and took it; they struck it with the edge of the sword and set the city on fire.

//We’re discussing the historicity of Joshua’s invasion of the promised land. Yesterday, we concluded that the most likely date of Israel’s entry into Canaan was the late 13th century. The problem is, the books of Numbers, Joshua, and Judges describe the destruction of sixteen different cities in Canaan, but only three or four of them (Hazor, Lachish, Bethel, and maybe Debir) show any evidence of destruction in this period. The Bible also describes Jerusalem and Dan as conquests (see today’s verse, and also 18:27-29, and Joshua 19:47), but these were very minor settlements in the thirteenth century and show no evidence of attack.

The Bible also reports that twelve cities were occupied by the Israelites without attack, but historians say only seven of the twelve had any inhabitants at the time. Curiously, three of the twelve (Beth-shemesh, Gezer, and Meggido) were razed to the ground in this time frame! Why does the Bible say their entry by Israel was peaceful? Another twelve cities, not even mentioned in Joshua and Judges, also show evidence of destruction, though several are near the coastline and were probably conquered by the Sea Peoples. So in many cases, the cities that the Bible says were destroyed were not; the ones that were, the Bible says were not.

It turns out that less than one third of the Bible’s claims of conquest can be confirmed by archaeology; and what’s worse, the archaeological evidence we have found contradicts the Bible. While there were battles during this period in history, they don’t seem to be where the Bible places them, and there was nothing close to the sweeping genocide described in the book of Joshua.

Is the conquest of Canaan all a fable, then? Or is the Bible exaggerating what really happened? Some possible explanations tomorrow.

//You may have heard that archaeological evidence contradicts the story in the book of Joshua about how Israel conquered the promised land. You may have seen me write about that right here on this blog. The most well-known contradiction is that the walls of Jericho seem to have been leveled hundreds of years before the famous battle of Jericho in the Bible could have occurred. So what’s the scoop? Let me give you the facts, and you can decide for yourself whether or not Joshua really obliterated the Canaanites as told in the Bible.

The story of Israel’s history begins with them growing into a nation as slaves in Egypt. So let’s start with dating a possible exodus out of Egypt. 1 Kings 6:1 states that the temple in Jerusalem was built 480 years after Israel escaped from Egypt, which would put the date of the exodus around 1450 BCE. However, archaeologists and Egyptologists consider this very unlikely. Exodus 1:11 tells how the Israelites, as slaves in Egypt, constructed the city of Ramesses; but that is an unlikely name for an early city, as no pharaoh by that name ruled until 1295. Thus most Bible scholars date the exodus to the latter part of the Bronze age, in the late 13th century. This date best fits the archaeological evidence of settlements in the land of Canaan, as well.

Exodus 1:8 tells of a new ruler over Egypt who “did not know Joseph.” Exodus does not identify who this king is, but he is usually thought to be Ramesses II (Ramesses the Great), who ruled from 1279-1212 BC. Like his father, Ramesses I, he conducted large-scale construction projects, such would require enormous slave labor, like that described in Exodus chapter 1. If the Biblical story of persecution and escape from Egypt is true, this dating is surely the best fit.

As we continue this topic tomorrow, then, we’ll assume a 13th century date for the exodus and entry into the land of Canaan.

//Realized Eschatology. If “eschatology” means the study of final things, such as death and judgment, then “realized eschatology” means just what it sounds like: The end has already come.

This may be a strange concept for many Bible readers. How can the end have already come? Shouldn’t people be walking around (flying around?) in resurrection bodies, then?

This is one of the most confusing, animated debates among Johannine scholars: Does John teach realized eschatology, future eschatology, or something in between? To grasp the controversy between scholars, note the phrase “the hour is coming, and now is” in today’s verse. And now is? You’ll find this phrase elsewhere in John; this is not an isolated occurrence. The end of the age, with the resurrection and judgment, has arrived, says John.

But immediately following these verses, John says this:

“Do not marvel at this; for the hour is coming in which all who are in the graves will hear His voice and come forth—those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of condemnation.” –John 5:28-29

Oops! Now we’re back to future eschatology! So severely does this passage seem to undermine John’s this-worldly message in other portions of his gospel that some scholars conclude verses 28-29 must be a later addition.

So what does John teach on this matter? This is one of many topics I discuss in my recently published book, John’s Gospel: The Way It Happened.

//Whether or not the idea appeals to Christians or Jews today, it’s clear that once upon a time, the Israelites believed in multiple gods. The scriptures bear witness to this in a number of places; faint traces of polytheism abound in the Bible, and I’ve made reference to many of these scriptures before. For example, Moses sings, “Who is like you, YHWH, among the gods?”

Today’s verse is another of my favorites. Bible scholars point out that although the Israelites worshipped only YHWH (Jehovah), they accepted the existence of other gods, including El, the “Most High” god. In some scriptures, Jehovah seems to BE El, the Most High God, the ruler over all others, but not in this instance. Here, Jehovah appears to have been understood as one god within the royal pantheon.

When the nations were divided up, Israel was awarded to Jehovah, and as such, Jehovah expected Israel’s loyalty. Jacob (the father of the nation, whose name was later changed to Israel) was Jehovah’s “inheritance,” and other nations were assigned to other gods.

//The book of Matthew tells how “wise men” from the East followed a star to see the glory of the newborn king, Jesus. But why would Gentiles be interested in a baby Jew? Did you ever wonder where this story comes from?

It’s from the promise of Isaiah chapter 60:

The multitude of camels shall cover thee, the dromedaries of Midian and Ephah; all they from Sheba shall come: they shall bring gold and incense; and they shall shew forth the praises of the LORD. –Isaiah 60:6

But Matthew’s story contains a twist. When the wise men arrive at the palace to pay tribute, Herod has no idea what they’re talking about. No new kings in this palace, he insists! Herod’s theologians, though, know the scriptures. They (perhaps reluctantly) point the wise men away from the palace, away from the Temple, away from Jerusalem, to the humble little backwoods town of Bethlehem.

We love to sing carols about the three wise men, and place them in a manger scene, where they never seem to fit in—they and their jewel-bedecked camels and their opulent robes and gifts of gold seem an odd contrast to the “king” we know.

Matthew’s story provides, in my mind, an absolutely brilliant contrast to Jesus.

//This quaint phrase is the King James Version’s way of saying Jesus died. But there is much more behind this verse than one might first think.

A literal reading seems to say merely that Jesus relinquished his spirit. The original Greek, however, doesn’t quite say this. It says Jesus “handed over a spirit.”

Why is this slight difference significant? Because while “giving up the spirit” is today recognized as a euphemism for death, at the time of the Bible’s writing, the expression was used nowhere else in scripture or even secular Greek to refer to death. I believe we need to recognize this phrase in context for what John’s Gospel truly meant and the uniqueness of this particular death: not merely that Jesus died but that something escaped from his body as he died. John’s emphasis here is almost as if the Spirit were visible, as if he spied it escaping, in the same manner that John watched its arrival as a dove. Recall the words of John 7:39:

By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not yet been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.

Now glorified on the cross, the Spirit is released, soon to be given to the world.

//John’s Gospel, the one Gospel claiming an eyewitness account, provides this curious detail. When the soldiers at the cross lifted a drink to the lips of Jesus, they did so on a hyssop reed.

What makes the claim even more curious is that virtually no critical scholar believes this is historical. A hyssop reed is too spindly; it simply can’t hold the weight of a wet sponge.

Is this really eyewitness testimony? Could this be another miracle, that the reed held the weight of the sponge? Did the soldiers perhaps wrap a hyssop reed around a spear, and lift the sponge to Jesus’ lips on the tip of the spear? (You’ve probably heard that explanation.) Or is this merely a literary device of John’s, meant to draw attention to the sacrifice of Jesus?

No first-century Jew would miss the meaning of the hyssop reed. It is what the Israelites were instructed to use on the very first Passover, while they were in Egypt, to paint the blood of a lamb on their doorposts. By this sign, the “killing angel” (who had been dispatched by God to kill all the firstborn in Egypt) would know not to disturb the inhabitants of Israeli homes. Or, perhaps, the angel would be fooled by the blood into thinking the evil deed had already been done in that home.

Jesus, John seems to be reminding us by inserting the hyssop reed, is our Paschal lamb; the one who gave up his blood so that we may live.

//Ever wonder what a seraph looks like? Isaiah 14:29 gives this description:

[F]rom the root of that snake will spring up a viper, its fruit will be a darting, venomous serpent.

So it appears serpentine and fiery, matching this description of the seraph in Numbers 21:6:

And the LORD sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people; and much people of Israel died.

Scary stuff! But if a seraph is serpentine, what’s this about it having feet? Today’s verse says it has six wings: Two to cover its eyes, two to cover its feet, and two to fly.

Well, here’s a possibility, according to some scholars. A few days back in the discussion of Ruth and Boaz, I mentioned that “feet” in the Bible is often a euphemism for genitals, and in a conversation about that post, I promised another example. So, in today’s verse, two of the Seraphim’s wings cover its “feet.” But I have to admit, the fiery image has lost most of its ferocity now, as it flies around covering its eyes and genitals.

//How do you picture God? Do you imagine him to be a heartless conqueror, reveling in the destruction of his enemies? Did God share in Miriam’s song, and glory in her praise, for the way he drowned the Egyptians in the Red Sea?

This is hardly the way we imagine our God of love today, right? Stories like this one hardly warm our hearts, for we cannot help but sympathize with our enemies. It’s what we’ve been taught to do. And so, too, did the Jews evolve in their feelings about God.

The midrash (Babylonian Talmud Megilla 10b) says that when Miriam began to sing God’s praises, the angels in heaven took up the song, but God did not join in the celebration. Searching, the angels found God weeping. When they asked why, God responded, “My creatures are drowning in the sea and you want me to sing praises?”

//That was Judas. Ever notice how much the story of Jesus’ betrayal matches that of King David? Jesus appears to be the second David, and Judas the second Ahithophel (the enemy of David). Here is how the parallel lays out in the Gospel of Mark:

Matthew and Luke copy this story from Mark into their own gospels, but at this point they deviate. What do you suppose happened to Judas? Mark and John are silent on the issue, and Luke tells us that Judas died by falling, but Matthew goes a different direction. He apparently recognizes Mark’s literary references. In the story of King David, Ahithophel hangs himself. So, in Matthew’s rendition, Judas does the same. See today’s verse.