Friday, January 31, 2020

the month in snapshots

a fuzzy family pic!

 breaking in 2020! a night of video games, nachos, and red wine (for the adults)

adventures at the Cincinnati Zoo Festival of Lights

a few candids for shits and giggles

all dolled up and looking cute

Naomi's first birthday! She didn't eat much because she was sick. 

just a few candid shots

Naomi loves watching music videos on YouTube

Zoey makes a killer ferris wheel

Thursday, January 30, 2020

the year in books [II]




Since last year I've been rereading K.A. Applegate's Animorphs series. Though it's largely for nostalgic purposes (I ate this shit up when I was in elementary school and Junior High), I'm surprised at how much I enjoy it. Each book is a quick read at an average of 176 pages, and each is told first-person from the point-of-view of one of the so-called 'Animorphs' (kids who were given the alien power to acquire animal DNA and turn into that animal for two hours at a time). The premise of the series is that an alien species called the Yeerks have invaded the planet and are fighting to enslave humankind. This is a subvert enslavement, though, as the Yeerks are no more than parasitic slugs who crawl into their host's brain and take over. Think zombies with an intellectual capacity from the stars. The Yeerks' main enemy are the Andalites, another alien race that has 'morphing' technology. The Animorph kids team up with an Andalite kid named Aximili who is stranded from his home, and together they fight the Yeerks. Though the books are decent (though nowhere near the decency of adult books), by the sixth one I'm really starting to tire of Applegate's style. That's only fair, given that she's writing for ten-year-olds and I'm 32. 

Wednesday, January 29, 2020

the year in books [I]



2020's 'The Year in Books' begins with Conn Iggulden's four-part Wars of the Roses series. This is the first I've read Iggulden, and I was impressed. Though the first book was rather slow, you can thank history for that. I've just never been that interested in Jack Cade's Rebellion (which the first book covers), but the three others books follow the tides of fortune with the houses of York and Lancaster during the late 15th century 'Wars of the Roses.' The last book cinches this period of history with the rise of Henry Tudor and the House of Tudor. These were good reads, and I plan on reading more of Iggulden's works. Rumor has it he has a great series on the Mongols and another on Julius Caesar (though he took some 'historical liberties' with the latter series, much to the chagrin of numerous readers on Goodreads). 

Thursday, January 16, 2020

Jehoshaphat of Judah: 869-848 BC

The Second ‘Good King’ of Judah  ∙  The Militant Jehoshaphat: the Reconfiguring of the Army and the Enhancement of Defensive Fortifications  ∙  Appellate Courts in Judah  ∙  An Alliance with Israel  ∙  War Against Aram  ∙  A (Failed) Quest for a Solomonic Empire  ∙  A Coalition Against Moab  ∙  Just Desserts: The Coalition Against Judah  ∙  A Good (but Imperfect) King


Jehoshaphat served as co-regent with his father Asa for three years before his father passed. Jehoshaphat would rule for around thirty-five years (including his co-regency), and he was twenty-five years old when he began his rule. His co-regency with his father was the first instance of co-regency in Judah (following the brief co-rule of David and Solomon during the days of the United Monarchy), and it was likely precipitated by Asa’s incapacitation due to his diseased feet. Jehoshaphat inherited a Judah ripe with conflict. In Israel, Ahab (King Omri’s son) was king, and his pagan wife Queen Jezebel was orchestrating a violent ‘Reign of Terror’ against the Israelites loyal to Yahweh. In sharp contrast, Jehoshaphat feared Yahweh and sought to serve him; he was the second ‘Good King’ of Judah, and because of his devotion to God, Yahweh established his control over Judah. His devotion didn’t mean he was perfect: time and again he became entangled with the godless leaders of northern Israel, and prophets rebuked him for it. Jehoshaphat built upon Rehoboam’s defensive strategies, stationing troops in major Judean fortified towns, adding garrisons to major towns (as well as to captured towns in southern Israel), creating storage depots, and plugging up ‘missing links’ among the border fortresses. Archaeological excavations have revealed a line of highway forts in the Jordan Valley near the Dead Sea that date to Jehoshaphat’s reign. Jehoshaphat also stationed elite troops in Jerusalem; the style of the list of these elite troops suggests that the king initiated a form of regimentation with proper protocol in regards to rank and organization. Jehoshaphat’s power was so great that he built up an army three times the size of those of his predecessors; his army consisted of three parts Judean soldiers and two parts Benjamite soldiers.

Jehoshaphat was a charismatic leader; people were drawn to him and pleased to give him voluntary gifts from their own wealth. He didn’t ‘consult (or seek) the Baals’: that is, he didn’t ask the pagan gods for oracles. The pagan kings of Israel consulted after the Baals; they would’ve done this at a shrine dedicated to the god, and the oracle would be mediated by the deity’s priests. In the ancient world, oracular answers were often given by diviners, who would read favorable or unfavorable answers in the entrails of a sacrificed animal. That Jehoshaphat did not do this emphasizes his contrast with the religiously corrupt kings of the Israelite Omride Dynasty. Even though many Israelites acknowledged Yahweh as their patron deity, more and more began associating Baal with fertility and consulting him regarding agricultural issues (Baal, remember, was the god who oversaw agricultural fertility). In issues of sickness and health, Israelites were increasingly seeking help from Baal rather than from Yahweh. Jehoshaphat wasn’t like that: he instituted a program to remove pagan ‘high places’ and Asherah poles that were springing up in the Judean hinterland; and in hopes of stemming the pagan tide, he commissioned five royal officers, nine Levites, and two priests to travel throughout Judah teaching the people the law of God. Yahweh blessed him for this: He gripped foreign enemies in fear of Him, and the Philistines and Arabs (desert tribes south of Judah and close to Philistia, extending into the Negev and the Arabian Peninsula) brought Jehoshaphat gifts, further increasing his power and prestige. Some scholars speculate that Jehoshaphat received such gifts because his territory engulfed major trade routes from Arabia to the Mediterranean. Jehoshaphat restructured the Judean justice system: he appointed judges in each city and created an appellate system that brought difficult cases to one of two supreme courts in Jerusalem. The religious Supreme Court, presided over by the high priest Amariah, dealt with religious issues; the civic Supreme Court, overseen by the government official Zebadiah, judged civil matters.

Jehoshaphat's reign is marked by three prominent entanglements with the kings of northern Israel. He went to war against Aram with King Ahab as an ally; he tried to build a resurgent ‘Solomonic Fleet’ with Ahab’s son King Ahaziah; and he went to war against Moab with Ahaziah’s brother (and Ahab’s second son) King Jehoram. In all these instances, Jehoshaphat was acting ‘out of line’ with his devotion to Yahweh. Prophets spoke against these entanglements, and divine sabotage would wreck his efforts to revive the Solomonic Fleet.

Jehoshaphat’s adventures with King Ahab of Israel began when he sealed an alliance with Ahab by marrying his son Jehoram to Ahab and Jezebel’s daughter Athaliah. Athaliah embraced the pagan ways of her mother and would have an undue influence on her husband. This alliance – deemed sinful by God’s prophet Jehu, who had a knack for giving Yahweh’s oracles to kings of both Judah and Israel – was the beginning of Jehoshaphat’s decline. The Judean and Israelite kings likely set aside their historic differences in light of the growing power of Aram (a.k.a. Damascus or Syria) to the north. Jehoshaphat’s alliances with Israel would, each in their turn, lead to three unsavory situations with three different Israelite kings. The first was a Judean-Israelite coalition against Ben-hadad II of Aram (who had been a thorn in King Ahab’s reign). 

In the 18th year of his reign, Jehoshaphat made a state visit to Ahab in Israel at the capital of Samaria. Ahab was delighted: he needed his southern ally’s help to recover territory that Ben-hadad had failed to return to Israel in compliance with the Treaty of Aphek (1 Kings 20.34; read more about this in the next chapter). Ahab’s eyes were on the fortress of Ramoth-gilead, located east of the Sea of Galilee on the frontier with Aram. He wanted the Judean king to join him in a joint campaign to recapture the city. When the subject was breached, Jehoshaphat was thrilled with the idea. It’s likely he was nervous about the growing power of Aram and considered it in his best interests to dislodge Ben-hadad from his stronghold in Gilead. Jehoshaphat, however, feared Yahweh, and he valued what God had to say; he wanted to ensure that Yahweh supported the campaign. So he asked Ahab if he had any prophets on hand.

Ahab knew that Jehoshaphat was devoted to God and was likely to request such a word from a prophet, so he’d coached his four hundred prophets in what to say. These ‘prophets of Yahweh’ had escaped Jezebel’s persecution by bending to her purposes. The prophets called into the court of Ahab were those who’d saved their own skin by making themselves amenable to the pagan queen and submitting to her and Ahab’s bidding. These four hundred renegade prophets gave unanimous predictions of victory. Jehoshaphat was no fool, for he knew a game was afoot: these prophets were king-appointed, not God-appointed. He insisted that a true prophet of Yahweh be called in to verify the optimism of the four hundred renegades. Ahab begrudgingly confessed that, yes, there was a prophet of Yahweh around: his name was Micaiah son of Imlah, but Ahab hated him because he was constantly prophesying ill-fortune for the royal family. Jehoshaphat rebuked Ahab for insinuating that a genuine prophet of God could be motivated by personal dislike for the king. Ahab knew he wouldn’t get anywhere without acquiescing to Jehoshaphat, so he summoned Micaiah to be brought to the court (presumably from the jail cell to which he would return). As they were awaiting Micaiah’s arrival, Zedekiah, the leader of the four hundred renegades, constructed ‘horns of iron’ (likely symbols of power that were nothing more than two iron spikes held to the forehead) and announced, ‘With these you shall thrust through Aram until you have consumed them!’ The rest of the renegades continued repeating their promises of success, and they followed Zedekiah’s lead in underpinning their proclamations with ‘thus says Yahweh.’ 

Zedekiah and Micaiah before Jehoshaphat and Ahab
The man sent to retrieve Micaiah from his cell pled with the prophet to join the four hundred Yes-Men in approving the campaign. Micaiah, however, couldn’t be intimidated nor bribed. He wasn’t afraid to stand alone; he would speak only what Yahweh revealed to him. When Micaiah was led into the court, presumably in chains, King Ahab presented him with the question of the hour. Ahab’s hollow tone revealed the insincerity of his inquiry, and Micaiah responded sarcastically by parroting the Yes-Men. The narrative emphasizes Micaiah’s mockery; Ahab lost his temper over Micaiah’s sarcastic insubordination and accidentally blurted out that what he wanted to hear was the word of the Lord – a tacit admission that what they’d been hearing from the four hundred Yes-Men was not the word of the Lord. Micaiah’s tone and demeanor changed to utter seriousness, and he said that he’d seen a vision of Israel scattered upon the hills with no shepherd; he’d heard the voice of God directing those scattered ones to return to their homes in peace. Ahab waved a dismissive hand at Micaiah and turned to Jehoshaphat, suggesting that this prophecy was but further evidence of the prophet’s hostility towards his sovereign. At this Micaiah retorted that he’d seen another vision relating to Ahab: he’d seen Yahweh on his heavenly throne surrounded by all the hosts of heaven (i.e. angels), and Yahweh was asking for suggestions as to how Ahab might be enticed to go up to Ramoth-gilead to be slain there. Various schemes were presented, and the winner was an ‘evil spirit’ sent to entice Ahab to go up against Aram at Ramoth-gilead. ‘Thus,’ Micaiah said, ‘the Lord has put a lying spirit in the mouths of all Ahab’s prophets. They have spoken falsehood. Furthermore, the prediction of calamity against Ahab has not come from me, but from Yahweh who speaks through me.’

There’s debate regarding the identity of the ‘Evil Spirit’ who deceived the four hundred royal prophets. Some see the evil spirit as a personification of the ‘spirit of prophecy’ that takes hold of a man and compels him to prophesy. Others identify the spirit as none other than Satan; that Satan had (or at least did have) access to the heavenly council chambers is attested by the opening chapters of the Book of Job. A more pertinent question is, “How can God give His sanction to deceit and lying for the purpose of luring Ahab to his death?” One explanation is that God permitted the evil spirit to do the work he so desperately wanted to do; in this case, Yahweh is permitting the deceit rather than causing it. Ahab wanted to be led by false prophets; he had no interest in hearing the actual words of God (evidenced by his harsh treatment and loathing of Micaiah); perhaps the justice of God simply permitted Ahab to get his wish. Another explanation is that Yahweh was indeed the one who planted falsehoods into the prophecies of the renegade prophets; in this sense, the deceit is given to a man who wishes to be deceived, and it is for the purpose of bringing an evil man to justice. This explanation finds support in Ezekiel 14.9, where it says ‘If the prophet is deceived… I, Yahweh, have deceived that prophet.’  

At the accusation of the four hundred prophets being deceived by an ‘evil spirit’, chaos erupted in the court. Zedekiah bristled at the charge that he and his cohorts had been filled with a deceitful spirit; he’d been conscious, after all, of an outside force compelling him to speak his prophetic word; how could the spirit of Yahweh say one thing to him and another to Micaiah? He slapped Micaiah on the face and demanded, ‘Where did the spirit of Yahweh pass over from me to you?!’ He was calling Micaiah a liar, but Micaiah wasn’t intimidated; he didn’t respond directly to Zedekiah’s outburst, replying simply that one day Zedekiah would perceive the truth. Only then would Zedekiah have the prophetic vision to correctly assess the political situation. When Micaiah’s prophecy concerning the defeat of the army of Israel was fulfilled, Zedekiah would hasten into hiding out of shame and fear, perhaps afraid of reprisals from the hand of the militant Queen Jezebel. Ahab, for his part, had seen enough: he ordered Micaiah returned to his prison cell where he’d remain under the watchful eye of Amon, governor of Samaria, and Joash, one of Ahab’s sons. Before being dragged from the court, Micaiah shouted forth a call for all people to take note of the predictions that had just been made.

Jehoshaphat, despite these dire predictions from Micaiah, decided to throw in with Ahab against Aram. This seems like a foolish move, and several theories have arisen as to why Jehoshaphat would do such a thing. Perhaps the terms of the alliance obligated Jehoshaphat to participate; in this case, Ahab’s entreaties are nothing more than political hospitality, and Jehoshaphat – despite being disturbed by Micaiah’s words – was still honor-bound to forge a coalition with his ally. Some theorize that Jehoshaphat feared being labeled a coward; it was known that he had a massive army, three times larger than any army Judah had ever put into the field, so what kind of man would be hesitant to use such power? A third possibility is that those in the assembly were treating Micaiah’s prophecy with disdain, and Jehoshaphat may have succumbed to peer pressure. Some argue that Ahab convinced Jehoshaphat to dismiss Micaiah’s threats in view of the longstanding animosity between Micaiah and the royal house. A fifth explanation is that Jehoshaphat disregarded the prophet’s words because he knew Aram was a growing power that had to be checked, and the opportunity of a joint operation was just too good to pass up. A sixth theory is that Jehoshaphat did believe the prophet but read between the lines: Micaiah proclaimed doom to Ahab and Israel’s army, but he’d said nothing about Jehoshaphat and Judah’s army. If Ahab was killed and the Israelite army scattered, perhaps that would leave Jehoshaphat king of the field – and imagine the wealth and booty he could bring home! 

Ramoth-Gilead today isn't much to look at, but in Bible times it boasted
a massive fortress and was the epicenter of several battles.
With the coalition forged, the joint armies were summoned and they marched on Ramoth-gilead. On the eve of battle, Ahab came up with a plan to thwart the dismal predictions lodged against him: he would pass leadership of the armies to Jehoshaphat, strip himself of his royal robes, and fight on the frontline as a lesser officer. Ahab must’ve had confidence in his martial ability! His way of thinking is seen in Assyrian superstition: in Assyria, when a bad omen, such as an eclipse, warned of evil tidings for the king, the ritual of a substitute king was sometimes performed. As early as 800 BC, an individual would be dressed in kingly robes and then take the brunt of the ill-fate thought to be reserved for the king. Ahab did something similar; at the least, he was hoping that his fate would be shoveled onto Jehoshaphat! What a boon it would be, Ahab no doubt surmised, if Jehoshaphat were to fall in battle! Perhaps then he could bring Judah into Israel’s fold. Jehoshaphat was thus left commanding the army in battle. When the battle erupted, the thirty-two chariot officers of Ben-hadad’s Aramean forces spied Jehoshaphat and made a beeline for him. Ben-hadad had instructed his officers to keep an eye out for the Israelite king and focus on him; if they were to cut off the snake’s head, they could immobilize the Israelite army. Had Ahab seen the Aramean chariots charging Jehoshaphat, he might’ve thought his plan worked: the Judean king was about to bear the brunt of the prophecy! But when Jehoshaphat saw the chariots lunging towards him, he called out for Yahweh to rescue him, and Yahweh answered: the charioteers realized that their target wasn’t Ahab, so they turned away to continue their search. 

A wounded Ahab commands from his chariot
Ahab, on the front-lines, was struck by a random arrow between the joints of his armor. The armor described in the text was made up of two parts: a solid breastplate and a scale-armor kit. The arrow struck either between the two or between the joints of Ahab’s scale armor. Ancient depictions of scale armor come from the Mesopotamian Nuzi tablets from the second millennium BC, in which a coat of mail was constructed from between seven hundred to more than a thousand bronze scales of varying sizes. These were sewn onto a jerkin of leather or cloth; the front and back were then sewn together at the shoulders (leaving, of course, a space for the head), and the whole kit probably reached to the knees. By the 9th century BC more elaborate scale armor kits were beginning to utilize iron; Ahab’s may have been such a one – but despite the stronger metal, it didn’t save him. Ahab, wounded by the arrow, retreated behind the Israelite lines, propped himself in the chariot, and continued directing the battle. His awful wound seeped blood, and come evening he finally succumbed to blood loss; he’d lost so much blood that it coated the floor of his chariot. When the Israelites learned that their king had fallen, despair swept through their ranks, and they abandoned the battlefield, fleeing for their homes – just as Micaiah had predicted (we can assume, though the text doesn’t mention it, that Jehoshaphat high-tailed it back to Judah without making any real gains against Aram). Ahab’s body was buried in Samaria and the chariot was washed in the city pool where whores customarily bathed. Packs of scavenger dogs licked up the blood that had been flushed from the chariot, fulfilling the word that Yahweh had spoken concerning Ahab through Micaiah. A full treatment of Ahab’s reign is given to the next chapter.

Upon reaching Jerusalem, the prophet Jehu (who had rebuked King Baasha of Israel) confronted Jehoshaphat. He lodged two criticisms against the king: first, Jehoshaphat hadn’t removed the illegal ‘high places’ devoted to Yahweh outside Jerusalem; and second, he’d made peace with the paganized Ahab of Israel. Jehu rebuked Jehoshaphat for entering into an alliance with those ‘who hate Yahweh,’ and he warned that such compromises could bring forth the wrath of God. However, because of his reform efforts and his personal striving to seek after Yahweh, God was lenient with Jehoshaphat. He got off (for now) with a warning.

*  *  *

a 'Tarshish Ship' (or seagoing vessel for long voyages)
Jehoshaphat didn't take Jehu's words to heart: he renewed the Judean alliance with Israel with King Ahab’s son and successor, King Ahaziah. They linked hands to build a joint trading fleet at the port of Ezion-geber on the Red Sea. It’s likely they aimed to revive the maritime enterprise of Solomon. They had ‘Tarshish ships’ (large seagoing vessels) built, and they intended to sail to Ophir and Tarshish. Tarshish was located in southern Spain just past the Straits of Gibraltar; Ophir’s location is unknown, but suggestions have been made that place it in India, Africa, and even in South America. A prophet named Eliezer rebuked Jehoshaphat, saying that because he made an alliance with Ahaziah, Yahweh would destroy his work. When the sailing ships were launched, they were dashed to pieces in a furious storm and never got out of the harbor. King Ahaziah of Israel attributed the fleet’s destruction to the inexperience of Jehoshaphat’s sailors; he proposed a second venture in which Israelite sailors would join the seamen of Judah. Because of their close affiliation with the seagoing Phoenicians, Israelite sailors were likely far more skilled than those Judah could provide. Jehoshaphat, however, accepted Eliezer’s explanation of the disaster and put an end to their joint commercial enterprise. Ahaziah, whose access to the Red Sea was only through Judah or hostile countries, was not happy about Jehoshaphat’s decision – but there was little he could do.

*  *  *

King Mesha of Moab
Old habits die hard. Judah’s alliance with Israel was renewed with Jehoram of Israel, who succeeded his heirless brother Ahaziah after he passed. The Moabites to the east had been placed under heavy tribute by the Israelite Omride Dynasty, forced to send the wool of a hundred thousand sheep and goats to Samaria. This maddeningly heavy tribute drove the Moabites to rebellion at the death of Ahab. Ahaziah failed to deal effectively with Moab, and Jehoram hoped to succeed where his brother had failed. He mobilized Israel’s army for an invasion of Moab, and he linked hands with Jehoshaphat of Judah. Jehoshaphat suggested they take the hundred-mile out-of-the-way circuitous route around the southern tip of the Dead Sea to attack Moab from the south. Jehoshaphat reasoned that if they did this, the King of Edom – who was currently a vassal to Judah – could contribute a contingent of troops; furthermore, Moab didn’t expect a southern invasion from Edom, so their defensive fortifications were weaker in that sector. Jehoram concurred, and they linked their armies and began the grueling march. 

They marched for seven days through the harsh wilderness. They planned on refilling their water supplies and refreshing their pack animals at a known perennial stream, but when they reached it they discovered that it’d dried out because of a drought. This was worse than staggering blindfolded into an enemy army: they were exhausted and dehydrated and stuck in a desert void of water. There was no question about it: if they didn’t figure something out soon, everyone would die. Jehoram, despairing, assumed that Yahweh meant to deliver their armies into the hands of Moab; Jehoshaphat, however, wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. He wanted to confer with a prophet of God, and he was delighted to learn that the prophet Elisha (who had succeeded Elijah) had accompanied the expedition unannounced. Jehoshaphat knew of Elijah’s fame and had respect for Elijah’s successor; he was convinced that Yahweh spoke through Elisha. He, King Jehoram, and the King of Edom (who, because of his obligations as vassal to Judah, had been forced to tag along in the coalition) scoured the worn-out encampment looking for the prophet. When they found him, Elisha turned on Jehoram – ‘If you want prophetic counsel, why not go to the false prophets of your mommy and daddy?’ Elisha eventually agreed to give a word of the Lord, but only because the godly Jehoshaphat was present. Elisha called for a musician to play some soothing song so that he could bring himself into the right frame of mind to receive a word from Yahweh. While the musician played, the power of the Spirit overcome Elisha, and he instructed the three kings to dig pits in the valley by means of which the water they needed might be collected. A great storm would rise many miles from the allied camp; the parched valley would then be filled with the storm’s runoff, and the pits would capture the rainwater. ‘And not only will Yahweh deliver you from death by thirst,’ Elisha said, ‘he will also deliver Moab into your hands!’

The three kings did as Elisha instructed, and by next morning at about sunrise (‘when the morning meal was offered’), a massive stream of water filled the pits dug the day before. The Moabite army, alerted to the coalition’s presence and hurrying to meet them, saw the reddish early morning sun reflecting off the water. Because there’d been no rain during the night (the storm, remember, had been a ways away), the Moabites suspected that the wadi near the allied camp was full of water. They saw what looked like confused movement among soldiers and pack animals around the ‘pools of blood’ and were convinced that Israel, Judah, and Edom had turned against one another in bloody slaughter (coalitions back then could be quite fragile things). There was nothing left to do but run the remnants ragged and collect the spoils. The Moabite soldiers surged forward, desperate to get their hands on loot – and they rushed headlong into a trap. The coalition had planned on this reaction, and had concealed most of their men from sight, instructing the others to ‘play act’ among the pits of water. When the first Moabites reached the camp, the hidden soldiers rose up and met them. The Moabite army, unorganized and facing stiff resistance, disintegrated, and the allies – refreshed and rejuvenated – pursued them deep into Moabite territory. The coalition cut through southern Moab, putting cities to fire, spreading stones over fields, stopping up wells, and cutting down fruit trees. 

Ki-haraseth Under Siege
The devastation cut a swathe up to the Moabite stronghold of Kir-haraseth, where the Moabite soldiers and their king bunkered down behind towering walls. Coalition slingers began hurling their stones over the walls, grievously hurting the defenders. The King of Moab – likely King Mesha – was wedged inside his fortress. He decided to strike out at the King of Edom; the three allies were encircling his fortress, and he figured the Edomites would be the easiest to break in order to escape: the Edomites were only there because of their obligation to Judah; they didn’t have a real bone to fight. The Moabite king summoned seven hundred expert swordsmen and made his attempt against the Edomite lines; when it failed, he was forced back behind the walls with his blood-ragged survivors. Desperate for deliverance, the king turned to the chief of the Moabite gods, Chemosh, and sought to earn his deliverance by offering his oldest son as a sacrifice. He took the crown prince and sacrificed him as a burnt offering upon the fortress wall in full view of the besiegers and besieged alike. 

King Mesha sacrifices his firstborn son to Chemosh
Upon seeing their crown prince sacrificed, the Moabites were filled with rage and surged out of the city gates, attacking the besiegers with near superhuman strength. Though the scriptures don’t tell us that the Moabite counterattack was successful, what is known is that the coalition called off the siege of Kir-haraseth and headed home. Scholars speculate a host of reasons why the siege fell apart despite its success up to that point; one theory is that the coalition feared the Moabite god Chemosh responding to Mesha’s grisly sacrifice and routing them from the fortress walls (remember that the Israelites, both north and south, were polytheists at this time; though they may have worshiped Yahweh, they didn’t go as far as to claim that he was the only god, and they may have believed – as did their contemporaries – that foreign gods had special powers in their own territories); another theory is that they believed Mesha’s sacrifice was to avert plague and, believing that sickness and death was spreading behind the fortress walls, they fled to avoid catching plague themselves. A third theory is that the Moabite counterattack was successful in that it so weakened the coalition forces that they decided they lacked the manpower and resources to see their campaign through to the end; they’d had a good run, but it was time to call it off. Thus they abandoned the siege of Kir-haraseth, leaving the Moabite king smoldering in humiliation and weeping for his lost son as he watched his enemies head home laden down with loot. 

*  *  *

King Mesha craved vengeance against the coalition that had battered him and left him without his oldest son. He turned his attention first to his nearest neighbor, Jehoshaphat of Judah. King Mesha gathered support from the Ammonites and Meunites (a nomadic people group who lived around Edom), and after amassing a large host, he led the counter-coalition into Judah, intent on bringing Moabite justice to the walls of Jerusalem. Judean messengers relayed the news to Jehoshaphat, alerting him that a massive army from Edom was moving fast and already at En-gedi on the western bank of the Dead Sea, well within Judean territory.

Jehoshaphat Prays for Deliverance
Jehoshaphat was mortified. Though the biblical text doesn’t tell us if the Moabite invasion came before or after the allied coalition against Moab, Jehoshaphat’s horror implies that it came after. His shock at the incursion was likely due to him being caught off-guard: he probably assumed the Moabites, who had been recently ravaged, couldn’t stomach nor field another confrontation. Furthermore, bearing in mind the record size of Judah’s armed forces, it doesn’t make sense for Jehoshaphat to be so unduly alarmed unless that army were wearied and thinned by the recent campaign against Moab. If Mesha attacked shortly after the successful Judean invasion, Judah’s veteran soldiers would be disbanded and unable to be called up quickly. It’s no surprise, then, that Jehoshaphat hurriedly called for a time of prayer and fasting and gathered the people in front of the Temple’s new courtyard and made a prayer to Yahweh for deliverance from the encroaching pagan coalition. The men of Judah with their wives, children, and ‘little ones’ were present for the ceremony; after the prayer, a Levitical singer named Jahaziel was overcome by the Spirit and prophesied that Yahweh would fight the battle – the warriors of Judah would just need to watch!

The Moabite Coalition Implodes
Emboldened and trusting in Yahweh, the Judean soldiers that could be summoned marched to meet the Moabites. They praised God and played musical instruments as they marched, and the Levitical choir, dressed in their ‘Sunday Best,’ led the military procession. As they neared the Moabites, Yahweh ‘set ambushes’ among the invaders. He caused violent dissent to spread through the pagan coalition’s ranks: the Ammonites and Moabites destroyed the nomadic Meunites, and then Moab and Ammon gutted each other until they were broken and bleeding. In an ironic twist, the fate which King Mesha had thought to befall the allied coalition in their invasion of Moab did befall his coalition against Judah! The Judean soldiers watched jaw-dropped as their foes killed each other. When all was said and done, the spoils of three armies were left for Judah. It took three days to gather the loot, and on the fourth day they gathered on the stripped-clean battlefield and publicly blessed God. They named the spot ‘The Valley of Baracha’ (i.e. the Valley of Blessing), and they returned to Jerusalem amidst much praise. When foreign peoples heard of how Yahweh had delivered Judah, they were filled with a reverence for Israel’s God and were intent on being amicable with Judah. 

Judah entered into another period of peace. Jehoshaphat died not long after, and the throne went to his son Jehoram. But Jehoram wasn’t made of the same mettle as his father. The son, remember, had married Athaliah, daughter of the late King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, and she’d inherited her mother’s paganism. Jehoshaphat hadn’t been a perfect king, but he’d been a good king. Jehoram would be the opposite of his father, plunging Judah into a quasi-Dark Age. 

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Asa of Judah: 910-869 BC

Judah’s First ‘Good King’  ∙  Pharaoh Osorkon and Zerah the Ethiopian  ∙  Covenant Renewal in Judah  ∙  The Alliance with Aram and War with Baasha of Israel  ∙  A Good (but Imperfect) King

Asa of Judah is the first king of Judah identified as a 'good king' – but despite his reign starting off on a positive note (leading to the first of five great religious revivals in Judah’s history), his reign ended negatively. Nevertheless, despite his later pitfalls in life, his ‘goodness’ wasn’t eliminated. His sin became a sort of spiritual apathy in which he trusted in men (and magic) more than Yahweh, and while this is sharply criticized, it doesn’t overshadow the goodness of his early reign. Our mistakes don’t eliminate our good. 

Asa’s story forms a sort of chiasm:

A – A Period of War (with complete victory over Egypt)
B – A Period of Peace (in which the Mosaic Covenant is renewed)
C – A Period of War (with a so-so victory over Israel)

In chiasms, the most important point is what’s found in the middle; in this case, it’s the religious reformation he inaugurated in Judah. During the first Period of War, Asa trusted fully in Yahweh, and Yahweh fought his battles for him; in the second Period of War, Asa trusted in men, and Yahweh let things play out as they would. Though Asa was victorious, he lost out in securing a total victory over his enemies.

Asa would reign for forty-one years, and his father’s and grandfather’s nemesis Jeroboam of Israel died three years into his reign. Jeroboam’s death led to the succession of his son Nadab, but Nadab’s reign was marked by internal strife before he was overthrown by the militant usurper Baasha. The early years of Asa’s reign were marked by relative peace on the northern border as Baasha consolidated his power. This peace came to an, however, with a resurgent Egyptian threat around 900 BC.

Zerah the Ethiopian invaded Judah. Though some scholars speculate that Zerah was a powerful chief of an unnamed Bedouin tribe, most believe that Zerah was a commander in the employ of Pharaoh Osorkon I of Egypt (r. 922-887 BC), the second ruler of Egypt’s 22nd Dynasty. Osorkon was the son of Shoshenq, who had successfully raided the divided kingdom twenty-five years earlier. Osorkon likely participated in the campaigns and would’ve marveled at the gold and silver taken from the Jerusalem Temple. Osorkon, like his father, feared a resurgent Palestinian state; Egyptian hegemony and economic stability depended upon a subservient Judah. No doubt he wished to line his Egyptian temples – and his reputation – with more wealth from Judah, and to this end he ordered another campaign against his easterly neighbor. This campaign was led by Zerah the Ethiopian. 

Asa counterattacks Zerah the Ethiopian outside
the fortress of Mareshah
The text tells us that Zerah invaded with ‘a thousand thousand’ (or a million) men with a contingent of three hundred chariots; though three hundred chariots is likely accurate (chariots were a staple of Egyptian warfare, so much so that Egyptians were viewed as the charioteers, and three hundred chariots would’ve been a standard number for Egyptian auxiliary forces), the ‘thousand thousand’ soldiers is no doubt symbolic. The text is basically telling us that Zerah had a massive army. Asa had a much smaller army consisting of three hundred units of Judean spearmen armed with large shields and spears and two hundred eighty units of Benjamite bowmen armed with small shields and bows. Rehoboam’s fortifications came into play: Zerah’s path into the Judean heartland was blocked by one of Asa’s grandfather’s fortresses at Mareshah, on the southwestern border of Judah and about four miles northeast of Lachish and nearly thirty miles southwest of Jerusalem. Zerah couldn’t move towards Jerusalem without taking care of the fortress, and the time spent besieging the fortress and blocking interference from flanking fortresses gave Asa time to marshal his forces. Asa launched a counterattack, beating his enemy in a headlong flight. He exploited his victory by pursuing Zerah’s ragtag refugees back the way they came, destroying a number of enemy strongholds in the Negev (which Egypt had controlled for the quarter century since Shoshenq’s campaign). This would pave the way for the re-conquest of lost territories in the southern plains by Asa’s son and successor Jehoshaphat. The narrative points out that Asa trusted in Yahweh rather than in men, and because of this, Yahweh orchestrated the rout and subsequent destruction of Zerah’s supersized army. 

After success against Zerah, the prophet Azariah called for revival in Judah. His call was taken up by the king and the Judean people, and they renewed the Mosaic Covenant with a promise to seek Yahweh with all their heart and soul. Whoever didn’t see the Lord, regardless of their age or gender, was to be put to death. The revival was sealed with the sacrifice of seven hundred oxen and seven thousand sheep. Asa then initiated a program of reform: he repaired damage sustained to the Temple (adding some choice furniture to the complex), banished the male and female pagan prostitutes from the land, and destroyed all his household idols (likely relics from his father and grandfather). The Hebrew word for ‘idols’ in the text is the same word used for ‘dung,’ so that it literally says Asa purged his household of all the ‘shit.’ He deposed his corrupt grandmother Maacah and destroyed an Asherah pole (literally ‘a horrible thing’) that she’d built; he took his household idols and her Asherah pole and destroyed them in the Kidron Valley. The Kidron, located just east of Jerusalem’s walls, would become a hot-spot for Judean reformers trashing pagan artifacts. All the valuables captured in wars fought by his father Abijah and himself were dedicated to Yahweh and placed in the Temple. Asa’s only defect was that though he removed all the pagan ‘high places,’ he left the ‘high places’ devoted to Yahweh intact. Though Judeans worshipped Yahweh at these high places scattered throughout Judah, it was an illegal form of worship and disgusting to Yahweh.

The Judean people were glad to renew the covenant.
They sought Yahweh, and He gave them rest from their enemies.
Judah became the envy of pious Israelites – and they began migrating south.
Baasha of Israel wouldn’t stand for this weakening of his kingdom.
He set his teeth against Judah, sealed an alliance with Aram, and went to war.

Many of the pious citizens of northern Israel defected to Asa when they saw he was making a sincere effort to restore the true worship of Yahweh, and this galled King Baasha of Israel. Such migrations weakened his martial hold on his kingdom, and he sought an end to it. He forged an alliance of mutual assistance with Ben-hadad of Aram: together they would take fire and sword to Judah, and Baasha would build a ‘Berlin Wall’ to keep Judeans in the south and Israelites in the north.

Asa had trusted Yahweh when facing Zerah the Ethiopian, but his trust against Baasha would be placed in men rather than God. His spirituality suffered during the Period of Peace following the renewal of the covenant; a complacency grew up, as can easily happen when we are absent troubles in the world. Though his religious fervor was tempered, he didn’t ‘go pagan’ as his father and grandfather had done. Nonetheless he was still drifting towards a secular life and outlook. It’s no surprise that when war returned, Asa put his faith in foreign alliances and money; he went so far as to plunder the Temple to preserve his kingdom. Baasha, coordinating with the King of Aram, launched a vicious assault on Judah in 894 BC (around the 14th to 16th year of Asa’s reign). The King of Israel had forged a military alliance with the rising star of Aram, Ben-hadad (r. 896-874 BC), and the two of them set their teeth against Judah. Baasha wanted to prevent pious Israelites from migrating to Judah, and he longed to reclaim southern territory lost to Abijah during the reign of Jeroboam; for his part, Aram – longtime enemy of both Israel and Judah – likely made friendly with Baasha in the hope of nibbling away at Judah. Baasha invaded northern Judah and came within four miles of Jerusalem, stopping at the town of Ramah where he began building a fortress and establishing chokepoints to strangle southern Judah from her trade lifelines (Ramah dominated the north-south and east-west trade routes in the area). These fortifications also acted as a ‘Berlin Wall’ preventing northern Israelites from crossing into Judah.

charioteers of northern Israel
Instead of relying on Yahweh to deliver him, Asa sought to counter the threat by turning Aram against Israel. He plundered the Temple’s treasures to purchase Ben-hadad’s friendship; Ben-hadad, greedy for both money and land, turned against Israel. Israel’s northern boundaries butted up against southern Aram and would be easier pickings, especially with the bulk of Baasha’s forces focused to the south. Ben-hadad threw himself against northern Israel, sacking several Israelite towns in the Rift Valley north of the Sea of Galilee. These towns included Ijon (Israel’s most northerly town, sited at the heart of the Biqa valley; if it wasn’t fortified, it was probably garrisoned by Israelite chariots), the cultic center of Dan, Abel Beth Maacah, and Kinnereth. The King of Aram also seized Naphtali, a geographical region that included all of Galilee and nearly all the country north of the Jezreel Valley and the area east of the Sea of Galilee. Though we have no lists of Israelite fortifications, scholars have deduced from the enumeration of fortresses attacked by Ben-hadad in 885 that Israel had a line of fortresses that have been dubbed ‘The Naphtali Line.’ These fortresses likely had a fourfold purpose: first, they could block the descent from the Golan Heights (the Syrian plateau); second, they could prevent the ascent into Galilee from its eastern approaches; third, they could arrest hostile movement along the Upper Jordan valley; and fourth, they could serve as launch-points for offensive actions against the Golan Heights and Biqa valley. Ben-hadad threw his forces against this Naphtali Line and overwhelmed them. It’s unknown how long Ben-hadad was able to hold onto his Israelite conquests, but they were back in Israelite hands a few decades later during the reign of King Jehu (2 Kings 10.29).

Baasha, bunkered down in Ramah, had no choice but to quickly withdraw and counteract the turncoat. After his hurried retreat north, Judean soldiers plundered what the Israelites left behind, and they followed up the liberation of Ramah with a short thrust into Israel’s southern territory. The resulting boundary, which left Bethel in Israel to the north and Mizpah and Geba in Judah to the south, formed the traditional boundary between Judah and Israel until the fall of Israel in 722 BC. The Judeans used the confiscated materials from Baasha’s Ramah fortifications to build two prominent Judean fortresses at Geba and Mizpah. Geba was located four miles northeast of Jerusalem and guarded the Micmash Pass; Mizpah was eight miles north of Jerusalem and dominated the watershed highway on the frontier between Israel and Judah. Excavations at Mizpah have revealed a wall with eleven towers dating to this period; the wall was twelve to fifteen feet thick and thirty-five to forty feet in height. 

Thus Asa was able to push back Baasha and gain some ground for Judah. It was a victory, sure enough, but it wasn’t as total as the victory won against Zerah years earlier. Yahweh spoke against Asa through the prophet Hanani (father of the prophet Jehu, who in turn denounced King Baasha). Hanani criticized Asa for trusting in a pagan king rather than in Yahweh. Because of this, he’d won a shallow victory; if he’d put his trust in God rather than in men, Yahweh would’ve not only delivered him from King Baasha but would’ve also given Ben-hadad into his hands! Because of his lack of trust, the rest of Asa’s reign would be plagued by war. Asa didn’t like what Hanani had to say, so he threw the prophet in prison; obviously the king’s heart was no longer in the right place.

Both Kings and Chronicles give an interesting footnote to the end of Asa’s reign. They note that Asa was plagued by a ‘foot disease’, which the Talmud (basically a commentary on the Old Testament) theorizes to be gout. The Chronicler emphasizes how Asa didn’t turn to Yahweh for help for his ailment but relied wholly on physicians (we should note that these physicians didn’t practice ‘natural medicine’ but also pagan magic). Hanani’s words hadn’t sunk into Asa’s heart; this is no surprise, as Asa had the prophet imprisoned. Nevertheless Asa died as a ‘good king,’ and the throne of Judah went to his son Jehoshaphat. Asa had built himself an elaborate tomb, perhaps in imitation of Egyptian pharaohs, and a funeral fire was burned for him – a practice unknown in Judah but popular enough with Assyrian monarchs.'

Monday, January 13, 2020

An Israeli Game of Thrones: 910-874 BC



The Assassination of Nadab of Israel  ∙  Judgment on Jeroboam’s Dynasty  ∙  The Reign of Baasha of Israel  ∙  Jehu Prophesies Against Baasha  ∙  The Assassination of the Pitiful Elah  ∙ Judgment on Baasha’s House  ∙   Zimri: The Seven Day King  ∙  A Fiery Death and a Five Year Civil War  ∙  Peace, Prosperity, and Prestige: The Reign of Omri of Israel


When Jeroboam died, his son Nadab became King of Israel – but he would reign for a mere two years (910-909 BC). During his reign the Philistines to the southwest experienced a resurgence of power, and he campaigned against them. His army laid siege to the Philistine-held town of Gibbethon; though it had once been a Levitical town, it had been overrun by the war-drunk Philistines. Though small, Gibbethon was an important town, and it’d become the focal point of numerous campaigns against the Philistines. Archaeologists have winnowed its location down to one of two places. The first was about two miles west of Gezer in Philistine territory and was probably nothing more than a military outpost on the Israelite border; the second location was near the intersection of the Philistine plain and the Judean foothills, twenty miles west of Jerusalem. This location would’ve been heavily fortified. Whichever site it sat on, it was a strategic location: marauding armies of the Egyptians in 1486 BC and the Assyrians in 713 BC noted activities against it. While the siege was trucking along under Nadab’s guidance, an obscure captain of Nadab’s army led a coup d’etat and assassinated the king outside the city walls. The usurper, a man named Baasha of the tribe of Issachar, wiped out all of Jeroboam’s descendants in order to secure his stolen throne against claimants from the old dynastic lineage. The purge of Jeroboam’s family (prophesied by the prophet Ahijah) ended the first Israelite dynasty, and Baasha became king of Israel.

Baasha assassinates King Nadab
Baasha reigned twenty-four years (909-886 BC) and moved the Israelite capital from Shechem to Tirzah, where Jeroboam had built the royal palace. Baasha, with his military roots, embraced a vigorous militant policy against Judah. He allied with Ben-hadad of Aram against King Asa of Judah, but Ben-hadad turned against him and invaded northern Israel. Baasha had no choice but to abort his up-till-then successful invasion of Judah to counteract the turncoat’s threat and push the Arameans out of Israel (this episode will be addressed in fuller detail in the next chapter). 

Baasha worshipped pagan gods and was denounced by the prophet Jehu, son of the prophet Hanani who’d prophesied against Asa of Judah (see the next chapter to read about Hanani and his subsequent imprisonment). 2 Chronicles 20.34 tells us that Jehu wrote a history of the reign of Jehoshaphat of Judah; this suggests that he, like Amos, was a prophet who came north from Judah to denounce the northern king. That his father Hanani was active in Judah supports this; however, others have suggested that Jehu was a prophet of the north who later sought refuge in Judah during Queen Jezebel’s ‘Reign of Terror’ against Yahweh worshippers in Israel during the reign of King Ahab. Jehu announced that Yahweh had raised Baasha up over Israel, but Baasha was no better than Jeroboam. Because he worshipped false gods, and because he’d been so ruthless in wiping out Jeroboam’s family, Baasha’s lineage would suffer the same fate. Jehu used words almost identical to those used by Ahijah against Jeroboam: Jehu pronounced the doom of Baasha’s dynasty, announced that his relatives would fall in the city and in the field, and he claimed their corpses would be left unburied to be eaten by beasts and birds. Like Jeroboam, Baasha wouldn’t be alive to see this come to pass: the judgment would fall on his son Elah. At the coup d’etat against Baasha’s son, five years of anarchy would be inaugurated in Israel as different men vied for the throne. 

When Baasha died, the throne went to his son Elah – but Elah wouldn’t keep it for long. For just over five years after King Baasha’s death, Israel would be subjected to rival would-be kings trying to get the upper-hand and establish their own dynasties on the throne. Some historians speculate that this period of dynastic instability was due to underlying tribal rivalry. Remember that the ‘ten lost tribes’ didn’t enjoy any particular unity; they were mismatched and often at odds. Tribal grudges and jealousies could boil over into murder and war. The House of Jeroboam hailed from the Tribe of Ephraim whereas the House of Baasha came from the Tribe of Issachar. The Israeli ‘game of thrones’ would end with King Omri securing the throne in 880 BC (though he took the throne in 885, Israel was divided between him and a rival claimant, Tibni, until 880). Omri was connected to the city of Jezreel, and according to the Book of Joshua, Jezreel belonged to the Tribe of Issachar. When Elah was assassinated by Zimri, Omri led a countercoup as kinsman to Elah (who also belonged to the Tribe of Issachar).

Elah was lazy and indulgent; when the army was besieging the Philistine town of Gibbethon (yet again), the king was in the house of one of his palace attendants participating in a drunken orgy. Proper kings, as commander-in-chiefs of the country’s armed forces, were expected to be at the frontlines unless duties called them elsewhere (drunken orgies, it should be noted, didn’t count as honorable duties). Perhaps Elah, remembering the fate of Nadab outside the walls of Gibbethon, caved in to godless superstition and kept as far away from bad luck as possible. Nevertheless, for a king to accept the hospitality of one of his subjects – event if that subject was Arza, his personal steward or attendant – was a massive breach of monarchial etiquette. It’s been suggested that Arza was working hand-in-glove with Zimri, commander of half of Elah’s royal chariots, and that the two of them conspired to have Elah assassinated. 

Zimri assassinates King Elah
Half of the royal chariots would’ve been kept in the capital at Tirzah, whereas the other half would’ve been scattered around Israeli towns or encamped outside Gibbethon. Zimri’s half seems to have been at Tirzah, for it was there that he killed the sitting king and scoured the earth of Baasha’s surviving family – even going so far as to kill the House of Baasha’s distant relatives and friends. Zimri’s purge of the House of Baasha was far more brutal than that which Baasha visited upon Jeroboam’s lineage. Zimri, proud victor of Israel’s second coup d’etat, held the throne – but he only held it for seven days. When news of the coup reached the Israelite army encamped around Gibbethon, the common soldiers rallied around their army commander Omri. Omri was likely the commander of the people’s army, ‘the national levy,’ that consisted of run-of-the-mill grunts who were called off their farms and away from their businesses and families to participate in seasonal campaigns. 

Omri, as kinsman of Elah, may have viewed his ensuing countercoup as an act of loyalty to the old monarch; in his estimation, Zimri may have been nothing short of a traitor. The national levy may have thrown in with Omri because they had a low view of Zimri: when Zimri was stationed at Tirzah with half the royal chariots, Omri had been suffering the torments of siege with his fellow soldiers. It’s also likely that there was rivalry between the socially-elite royal charioteers and the muddied and bloodied lower-class infantry; the grunts in the army may have chafed at the idea of a socially elite charioteer lording over them, but the thought of having a beloved commander – who had been faithful to them and who had suffered alongside them against the Philistines – may have been palatable. Zimri certainly didn’t boost his popularity with his balls-to-the-wall extermination of Baasha’s family and colleagues; no doubt a number of Zimri’s victims had friends and compatriots in the armed forces. Whatever the reasons, the national levy put their weight behind Omri, and Omri lifted the siege of Gibbethon – much to Philistine delight, we can imagine – and marched towards Tirzah.

He led his army back up through the mountain passes to the capital, and in a show of force he deployed his troops around the capital. He assumedly ordered Zimri to surrender, and Zimri, seeing how Omri’s loyal soldiers had formed a tight and inescapable cordon around the city, knew escape was but a dream. Fearful of capture and the inevitable tortures he’d endure as a traitor, the usurper fled into the royal palace’s citadel and set it on fire, entombing himself inside. The ancient Tirzah palace shows archaeological evidence of destruction and abandonment at this time, and a fortified citadel has been found at the northwest corner that may have been the one Zimri set afire. Even though Zimri died by his own hand, the narrative depicts his death as the result of divine retribution ‘because of the sins which he had committed.’ He walked ‘in the way of Jeroboam,’ condoning the calf worship in the north. Given Zimri’s short, seven-day reign, it’s likely that prior to his coup d’etat he was a zealous devotee of the Golden Calves. His assassination of King Elah and his purge of the royal family was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to his revolting sins. The biblical narratives attached a special abhorrence to Zimri’s actions, perhaps because his usurpation wasn’t done openly but stealthily after his victim had been reduced to a drunken stupor and was unable to defend himself, and in Jewish literature the name ‘Zimri’ became a term of repulsion. 

With Zimri out of the way, Omri took the throne of Israel – but he wasn’t an uncontested king. For the first five years of his reign (from 885-880), the Kingdom of Israel was torn between two kings: Omri and Tibni. Very little is known about Tibni (indeed, his name may be a nickname, meaning ‘man of straw’), but the Septuagint tells us that Tibni received assistance from his brother Joram and that both were killed in battle against Omri. Some scholars speculate Zimri and Tibni were members of the Tribe of Ephraim and that Tibni’s bid for the throne was tribally motivated: he wished to avenge the death of his kinsman and return the throne to Ephraimite hands. Others have suggested that Tibni represented a sect of the Israelite army that didn’t throw in with Omri, and thus the civil war was between a divided army and their respective leaders. Still others believe that Tibni led more of a ‘citizen army’ unhappy with the idea of a martial leader turning Israel into a military state. Regardless of his motivations, Tibni failed and Omri was able to reign over a secured Israel for the next six years of his reign. His dynasty, that of the Omrides, would be known as one of the strongest (if not the strongest) dynasties in Israel’s history.

for five years Israel was plunged into civil war between Omri and Tibni

With Tibni dead and Israel under Omri's control, the winner of the ‘game of thrones’ could bring much-needed stability to the internally-ravaged kingdom. This stability came just in the nick of time, as foreign neighbors were growing fast in power: to the north, Aram, centered in Damascus, was led by the aggressive and successful Ben-hadad, who by 850 BC would stretch Aramean power as far north as Syria; and to the east, Assyria was the Rising Star. The Assyrians had been fighting with Mittanians and Hurrians and then with Arameans for control of the upper Euphrates region; a new ruler, Ashurnasirpal II (r. 883-859 BC) was known for his barbaric cruelty; militant and aggressive, he marched across the Euphrates and occupied land as far west as Byblos, Sidon, and Tyre on the Mediterranean coast. Omri wouldn’t have to deal with the Assyrians, but Ashurnasirpal II’s successor, Shalmaneser III, would be a thorn in Israel’s side. The House of Omri – called the Omride Dynasty by scholars – would span a number of rulers (Omri’s son Ahab, Ahab’s sons Ahaziah and Jehoram, and the foreign Queen Athaliah of Judah), and they would rule for three generations over Israel for forty years (and would even rule Judah for a minute through Queen Athaliah). 

archaeological ruins from the city of Samaria
Omri was a shrewd and competent king who reigned for twelve years. After emerging victorious from the civil war, he purchased the Hill of Samaria and made it, rather than Tirzah, the capital of Israel. The purchase price was 150 pounds of silver, the economic equivalent to about 15-20 million dollars today. Samaria lie seven miles northwest of Shechem; the oblong hill rose three to four hundred feet above a fruitful plain surrounded by rich farmland; and it was ringed by mountains, making foreign attacks difficult. It gave easy access to the Jezreel Valley to the north, Shechem to the southeast, and the coast to the west; it controlled the whole surrounding area of Palestine, including the main caravan roads to the north, south, and west. The site was named after its former owner, Shemer, and it would be the last Israelite capital until the northern kingdom collapsed under Assyrian swords in 722 BC. Because Omri bought the hill, it became the private property of the royal family, just as Jerusalem belonged to David and his descendants. Archaeological excavations on the site confirm the biblical statement regarding Omri’s founding of the city: the remains of three palaces have been discovered, the earliest of which dates to the time of Omri-Ahab. Samaria shows no sign of occupation earlier than 900 BC. Archaeologists have discovered strong and intricate fortifications; store houses and administrative installations; and a sumptuous palace quarter – all testaments to the might and prosperity of the House of Omri. Excavations have unearthed what is believed to be Omri’s palace on the acropolis, as well as parts of the wall separating the acropolis from the lower the city. The wall was five feet thick and built using the finest masonry of the day (ashlar stones set in a trench using headers and stretchers); Omri’s son Ahab improved the fortifications by adding a thirty-foot-thick casemate wall.

Though the biblical text doesn’t tell us much about Omri’s reign, we know that he was a competent and powerful king who earned renown throughout the Near East, so much so that later Assyrian rulers would refer to Israel as Bit-Humria, ‘The House of Omri.’ The title ‘Israel’ was used less and less as history progressed, and beginning in the reign of Joash, Israel would become known as ‘Samaria’ after her capital. Omri directed his affairs northward against Aram and eastward against Moab rather than tangling with then-king Asa of Judah (either he or, more likely, his son would turn to a ‘Policy of Peace’ with Judah in the face of rising pagan nations). The Moabite Stone – a four-foot-high inscription found at the site of Dibon, just north of the Arnon River, in 1868 – commemorates the building of a sanctuary and mentions Omri by name and refers to his son or grandson. The Moabite Stone makes reference to the Moabite national deity Chemosh who had used Israel for punishment of his land but who had now brought victory; the Stone references Moab’s successful revolt against Israelite control, likely during the reign of Ahaziah. The Stone, written under the authority of King Mesha of Moab, states that Omri, King of Israel, had conquered Moab in the days of Mesha’s grandfather; Mesha brags that with the favor of his god Chemosh, he was able to throw off the tribute Omri imposed. The Stone tells us that Omri was successful in bringing Moab to heel, and this leads us to assume that he had success with Aram to the north, as well.

Omri wouldn’t risk a campaign against Moab without securing his northern border. Some historians believe he sought an uneasy peace with Aram, and Ben-hadad, feeling the pressure of the Assyrians next door, would’ve needed friends in the region – even, perhaps, friendship with his longtime nemesis Israel. If friendship was sealed, it was bound to fall apart, and conflict with Aram became a common thread in Israelite history. There are good reasons for this. Aram was on a meteoric rise, and Israel was in her way. A strong Israel, occupying such cities as Dan, Ijon, Abel Beth Maacah, and Hazor, in effect controlled Damascus’ east-west caravan route to the Mediterranean coast. A strong Israel meant that she, rather than Aram, controlled the lucrative north-south incense route along the King’s Highway in the Transjordan. If Israel could control this route up to Ramoth-gilead, then spice and incense caravans could pass westward through Israelite territory to Mediterranean ports such as Acco, Tyre, and Sidon. From there, luxury goods could be loaded onto the ships of Phoenicia (Israel’s new ally thanks to Omri; see below) and be transported anywhere in the Mediterranean world. Thus, caravan transit revenues would benefit Israel rather than Damascus. It’s no surprise, then, that at least thirteen battles were fought between Israel and the Arameans, many of them occurring at or near the strategic fortress city of Ramoth-gilead.

a Phoenician sailing ship outside one of Phoenicia's
commercial port cities
Omri forged an alliance with the seagoing and commercially-minded Phoenicians on the Mediterranean coast. Omri took a play from David’s playbook and reinstated friendly relations with Tyre, arranging a political marriage between his son Ahab and a Phoenician princess who would be known in Israel as Jezebel. This was likely part of a treaty with Jezebel’s father King Ethbaal; Ethbaal, per Tyrian society, would’ve been a high priest of Baal. The treaty was likely a trade deal in which Israel gained access to cedar from Lebanon and fine merchandise from Phoenicia’s maritime trade while Phoenicia gained access to Israel’s grain and olive oil. They may have even linked hands to stand firm against the rising Arameans to the north (giving Omri room to move against Moab to the east). Though this political alliance was shrewd, it would have grave repercussions for Israel: Ahab would be a pushover, and his wife Jezebel – who would become Queen Jezebel at Ahab’s ascension and Queen Mother during the reign of his sons – orchestrated state-sanctioned Baal worship in the northern kingdom. The Tyro-Israelite alliance testifies to Omri’s power and prestige: the political and economic survival of the seafaring Phoenicians depended on securing their food-producing hinterland and the trade routes leading to the coastal dominions, and they achieved this by entering into pacts with the most suitable (and usually the strongest) of their neighbors. That King Ethbaal was interested in an alliance with Omri indicates that the newly-consolidated Israel was viewed favorably by her neighbors.

Sunday, January 12, 2020

intermission: star wars

I took some time out of my day to winnow through all the photos on my phone (I'd accumulated upwards of 6000). It took about an hour to go through everything, and I was delighted to discover around sixty pictures of Star Wars artwork. My wife and daughters (well, all except Zoey) mock me for my love for Star Wars, a vestigial dedication from the days of my youth. I want to preserve these images for posterity's sake, so I'll be throwing them on this blog every now and again. The way I see it, they make wonderful 'intermissions' for the slurry of biblical essays that have started coming (and will continue to come) this way. 













where we're headed

Over the last several years, we've undergone a shift in how we operate as a family. We're coming to what we hope is a better underst...