the month in snapshots

She's not sure how she feels about playing in the snow!

Our oldest and our youngest!

Zoey's all dressed up for a Valentine's Day party at school.

Zoey and I enjoying some early morning McDonald's before school.

Zoey's rather enthralled by Indiana Jones.

just a few candids of Naomi

candids: part two

candids: part three

just three sisters taking a winter walk

the year in books [IV]

One of my reading goals of 2020 is explore some fantasy books and maybe find an author I can get really into. Harry Turtledove's Into the Darkness is built on a fantastic premise - the Second World War 'retold' with magic and dragons and all sorts of fantastical beasts - but I couldn't get past the cardboard-cutout characterization and the basic lack of writing skill in bringing battles to life. I was really hoping to get into that series, if only because of the cover art, but I ended up slogging through the last half of the book. George R.R. Martin's A Clash of Kings - the second book in his A Song of Ice and Fire series - was fantastic and deserving of a five-star review. Robert Silverberg's Roma Eterna was a collection of short stories looking at late historical events with the premise that the Roman Empire never fell; it had some good stories as well as some that were downright burdensome. Brian McClellan's Sins of Empire was a decent read, though it was more like a detective story than anything else. Terry Pratchett's The Color of Magic was a huge disappointment - I'd heard such great things of him! - but Mark Lawrence's Prince of Thorns was captivating beginning to end. If I got anything out of this batch of books, it was a desire to read more of Lawrence's stuff. 

the year in books [III]

I've wrapped up (quite early, if I might say) my 2020 queue of Star Wars books. As much as I've enjoyed reading through the Legends in chronological order, some of these weren't exactly five-star material. Aaron Allston's two books - X-Wing: Iron Fist and X-Wing: Solo Command - were decent, but I struggled through Wolverton's The Courtship of Princess Leia and Denning's Tatooine Ghost. And though Timothy Zahn's infamous Thrawn Trilogy is required reading for anyone interested in the expanded Star Wars universe, I had trouble adapting to his writing style. I remember his books being much better when I was in junior high. I'm hoping 2021's Star Wars queue is more enthralling.

And to top off this post, here are some cool 'facts' about the gas giant Bespin:

debrief: Isaiah

~  Historical Background  ~

The prophet Isaiah ministered in Judah throughout the end of the eighth and beginning of the seventh centuries BC. It's likely that he began as just another run-of-the-mill prophet borne from one of the prophetic guilds, preaching a standard message of God's displeasure of Judah's sins. He became a particular kind of prophet when God appeared to him in a theophany, and from then on he became the prophet of Judah. His peculiar calling came during the reign of King Josiah around 740 BC, and Isaiah's message was rooted in the socio-political currents of the day. The Assyrian Empire was on the move, expanding as it liked to do, and the Assyrians' eyes were on the Fertile Crescent and as far west as Egypt. Assyria had thrown its might against the splinter kingdom of northern Israel and gobbled up Galilee and much of Israel's territory east of the Jordan River. Judah had been secure in Josiah's strong predecessor King Uzziah, but Josiah was made of weaker stock. When Israel and Aram Damascus joined hands with several other small nation-states to form an anti-Assyrian coalition, they demanded that the next Judean king, Ahaz, join them. When Ahaz refused their entreaties, Israel and Aram Damascus launched a joint invasion of Judah to depose Ahaz and place a puppet king who would be more amenable to their will. Ahaz, rather than trusting in God for deliverance, sought help from the most powerful and most untrustworthy power: Assyria. He implored Assyria to come to his aid; after all, they had the same enemies! Assyria was more than happy to get involved, but Judah had to pay a heavy tribute for the aid. A few years later, in 722 BC, Assyria dealt a death blow to northern Israel: she razed Israel's territory, ransacked the capital of Samaria, and deported the Israelites to locations scattered throughout the ever-growing Assyrian Empire. Assyria wanted to have Judah, too, so she set her teeth against another Judean king, Hezekiah. King Hezekiah learned from the mistakes of his predecessor, and God delivered him from the Assyrians by sending a devastating plague through the Assyrian troops besieging Jerusalem. Isaiah ministered during all these events, warning the people particularly against seeking foreign aid for help rather than seeking divine deliverance. He had a princely relationship with King Hezekiah, and he was instrumental in goading Hezekiah towards good choices.

Though God had delivered Judah from the Assyrians, the people of Judah persisted in their sin and unbelief. Isaiah criticizes the peoples' religious observances - basically going through the motions - while practicing idolatry on their 'off days,' perpetuating loose and indulgent living, and engaging in idolatrous pagan worship and sorcery. Because of their sin and refusal to repent, Isaiah prophesied that they would suffer a similar fate as Israel but from a different superpower: the Babylonians. His prophecies of the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of Judah's people was fulfilled by Nebuchadnezzar in 586 BC. Isaiah made sure, however, to emphasize how the coming exile wasn't the end of the story. Indeed, the exile was simultaneously judgment on Judah's wicked population and a 'training ground' for those who remained loyal to God. Those who remained steadfast in their loyalty to God would be seen through to the other side; they and their descendants would return to the land and prosper again. Prior to Jerusalem's destruction, Babylon deported wagon-loads of people to the rivers of Babylon where they were established in 'conquered communities'; those who were deported were the favored ones of God. By being deported before Jerusalem's destruction, they were spared the suffering that would soon engulf the land. The destruction of Jerusalem would be just the beginning: the after-shocks of the Babylonian conquest would make life a living hell for those who remained in the land. Drought and famine scoured the lands, and marauding bands of Edomites would make life a perilous thing for those left to fend for themselves. Those carted off to Babylon, however, were able to settle down in their homes, work their jobs, and raise their families with the expectant hope of an eventual return to their homeland when the dusts of desolation settled. The future Babylonian Exile is presented as both a judgment and a purging in the same way that the future Final Judgment is portrayed in scripture as both God's execution of His wrath against His rebellious creatures and the purging of creation to pave the way for a brighter future. Isaiah prophesies at length about both the Exile and the Return from Exile, going so far as to name the one who would lead Israel's exiles back home: Cyrus the Great of Persia. We know from history that just as the Babylonians conquered Assyria, so Persia conquered Babylon. It is a matter of historical record that Cyrus the Great orchestrated the exiled Israelites' return to their homeland. 

Though most of Isaiah's prophetic material deals with the issues of Assyrian aggression, Babylonian Exile, and the Return from Exile, he deals a lot with messianic prophecies and the future hope of Jerusalem and all God's people. Isaiah has been called the 'St. Paul of the Old Testament' because of the litany of messianic prophecies scattered throughout his work. He prophesies the virgin birth, Jesus' ministry, and Jesus' suffering and death. He writes extensively about the Messianic Kingdom that would engulf the world and how all people - not just Jews - would be on equal footing in God's covenant (a blasphemous thing for any prophet to say!). The pinnacle of the messianic prophecies are the four 'Servant Songs' scattered throughout the back half of the Book of Isaiah; these Servant Songs build into a crescendo praising the Servant of YHWH who would finally do all that Israel was supposed to do and who, through his suffering, would bear the sins of God's people and inaugurate a new kind of covenant. Looking beyond the Messianic Kingdom, Isaiah prophesied about a day when God would recreate the heavens and the earth, purging them from evil and recreating them as the perfect and peaceful dwelling place for God's people. 

~  "What Stuck Out to Me?"  ~

Perhaps the greatest lesson learned - or, rather, re-learned - was God's control of world history. Isaiah presents world history - especially in the case of the rise and fall of superpowers - as all being part of God's 'Master Plan.' This is an important reality to keep in mind. One can look back at the way superpowers rose and fell in the ancient Near East to decipher an overarching pattern that culminated in the Messiah coming 'at the right time' for the gospel to spread. In a simplistic manner, this is the approach: God orchestrated the rise of Assyria and used Assyria as a tool for judging Israel for her sins and disciplining Judah for hers; though Assyria had no intention of doing the will of God - and did what she did from her own motivations - the end result was that Assyria executed God's will. Assyria was in turn judged for her sinful actions and the prideful motivation behind them. Her judgment came in the shape of Babylon, whom God also rose up to judge and discipline Judah. Babylon wasn't innocent of her crimes, and God judged her by having her conquered by Persia under Cyrus the Great. Persian dominance collapsed in the late fourth century as Alexander the Great trampled through the Middle East and Asia. His success was orchestrated by God: by his actions, he brought judgment on Persia for her sins and spread Greek art, architecture, and - most importantly - language throughout the known world. Alexander's conquests inaugurated the 'Hellenistic Age' in which Greek culture and language became the dominant facets of the ancient world. Because of Alexander the Great, people were able to communicate like never before. Alexander the Great paid for his sins and his kingdom ruptured. The rising Roman Republic was able to pick up the pieces, and by the turn of the first millennium AD, the Roman Empire was establishing the pax romana ('Roman Peace') that made trade and communication easier than ever before. It is at this time that the Messiah came and performed his mission of inaugurating the New Covenant. The early church was able to spread the Good News of Jesus (the gospel) throughout the known world in large part due to the legacies of language and peace wrought by Alexander and the Roman Empire respectively. This is but one example of how God orchestrates world history to suit his ends, and there's no reason to think he's stopped in our day and age.

What, then, do we make of our current political climate? The simple answer, based upon the convictions of the prophet Isaiah, is that God is orchestrating things to bring his overarching plan to fruition. Just as the Judeans of Isaiah's day couldn't fathom God's hand in world events, so we, too, are often incredulous. I struggle to make sense of why God would bring a baffoon like President Trump into office; but I'd do well to remember - as would most evangelical Christians - that God's choice of leaders isn't always for the edification of their countries; sometimes it is for judgment. The trick is that we don't know what until later. We enjoy the hindsight of seeing how Isaiah's prophecies came to pass, but we lack the ability to decipher just what God is doing in our current world. What we do know - and we know this from Isaiah and from the other prophets and from Jesus himself - is that God has an end in view for human history, and he uses world events to bring that end about. We don't know where we are on the timeline, but we can rest assured that God is in control and will do what he said he'd do: establish a Messianic Kingdom, judge and defeat evil, and transform the universe for His people. 

But how is God in control? This is something I wrestle with on a regular basis. The tricky fact is that we have texts that decree, in no uncertain terms, that God is in intimate control of world affairs. Some of the most troubling include: 

The days of humans are determined: you have decreed the number of their months and have set limits they cannot exceed. [Job 14.5] 

[Nor] is [God] served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. From one ancestor He made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and He allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live. [Acts 17.25-26]

Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be. [Psalm 139.16]

The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord. [Proverbs 16.33]

I form the light and create darkness, I may peace and create calamity; I, the Lord, do all these things. [Isaiah 45.7]

If a trumpet is blown in a city, will not the people be afraid? If there is calamity in a city, will not the Lord have done it? [Amos 3.9]

We also have biblical texts that inform us that we are responsible for our choices. If God is in complete control, then how can we be held responsible for the choices we make? After all, wouldn't they be God's choices with us as the instruments? For that matter, why should Assyria be held responsible for her crimes against Israel and Judah if she were God's tool in destroying the one nation and disciplining the other? At times I'm bent towards Reformed theology - you know, TULIP and Calvinism and predestination and all that - while at other times I'm stolidly in the Arminian camp advocating human free will: real choice, real responsibility, real consequences. But then I'm reminded that free will as a philosophical idea is actually a pretty tenuous idea that borders on myth. Even if we are free to make choices, our choices are set within parameters; we can't choose to flap our wings like a bird and fly. And how often do we make choices based upon moral knowledge? More often than not our choices are subconsciously driven; we choose from our hearts, and our hearts are murky, deceitful things. Lately I've become intrigued by a middle ground called 'Middle Knowledge' (though it's technical name is molinism, I like 'Middle Knowledge' better because it reflects the 'bridge' or 'middle ground' it takes between Calvinism and Arminianism - which has led some to call it Calminianism). The basic takeaway is this: God knows what choices we will make in any situation, so he shapes situations to bring about the choices that will fulfill his direction for history. Our choices remain our own; we are not coerced, and God remains in control. We make choices within parameters that God has set. We see this with both the Assyrians and the Babylonians in Isaiah: both executed God's will, but they did it for their own reasons, and they were guilty for those reasons. That God used their sinful motivations and actions didn't mean they weren't culpable for what they did; they operated out of free choice, but God designed the parameters knowing what they would choose. 

Yet - and especially in Isaiah - there are tricky texts that cast a shadow over Middle Knowledge. One of the main tenets of Middle Knowledge is that God is in complete control, orchestrating every little thing, by establishing parameters and allowing human beings to move within those parameters. By this scheme, God doesn't need to fiddle with human volition in order to achieve his will. How, then, do we make sense of texts such as Isaiah 44.18 which tells us that the Judeans refused to listen to Isaiah because God had shut their eyes to keep them from seeing and shut their hearts to keep them from understanding? Or what do we make of Proverbs 21.1 which tells us 'The king's heart is a waterway in the hand of the LORD; He directs is where He pleases.' (Though one could argue that the latter text fits snug as a bug with Middle Knowledge; the heart is portrayed as a river, and the 'banks' are the parameters God sets). These are difficult texts, and I don't anticipate having answers anytime soon. But why should I, when these issues have been debated since medieval times? If only we could get a moment to sit down with Jesus and ask him how it all works together!

Speaking of Jesus, I'm spending a lot of time with him next.

Next up on my Bible Reading Queue is the Gospel of Matthew.

I'll be honest: it's one of my least favorite gospels.

(I'm a Johannine guy all the way)

Hopefully I'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Isaiah.

Here's to next time!

Jehoram of Israel [V]

Elisha 'anoints' Hazael of Damascus

The fourth Aramean episode is Elisha's anointing of Hazael. Yahweh had told Elijah at Mount Horeb that a day of wrath against apostate Israel was coming and that it would be brought about by three men: Hazael of Aram, Jehu of Israel, and the prophet Elisha. Many years had passed since that prophecy and Elijah had been translated into heaven aboard a chariot of fire, but sometime after the siege of Samaria, the time came for the plan to be set in motion. Elisha made the 125-mile trip from the Israelite capital of Samaria to the Aramean capital of Damascus, about a week’s journey on foot. Since this was the time of Hazael’s ascension to Aram’s throne, the year would’ve been 842 BC. Ben-hadad II was grievously ill when Elisha came into the city, and upon receiving word that the prophet of Israel was, for some reason or another, in the capital, the king dispatched his trusted servant Hazael to flower the prophet with gifts and to inquire of Elisha’s God regarding the king’s health. The gift Ben-hadad offered was exorbitant, likely because he was eager to receive a good word from the prophet. Gifts to deities were attempts to manipulate and obligate the gods; since prophets were believed to have influence over the gods for whom they spoke, this was the king’s attempt to buy Yahweh’s favor. He wasn’t trying to purchase a falsified report but to purchase the prophet’s words, which – according to common belief – had the power to direct and coordinate divine decrees. Ben-hadad knew of Elisha’s reputation and believed the God of Israel had true power (even if he believed in other gods all the while). Hazael presented the gift to Elisha and inquired as to his monarch’s health – ‘Will he recover from his sickness?’

Elisha told Hazael to tell his master that he would surely recover from his illness – but, however, God had revealed to his prophet that the king would die not of illness but of another cause. Having given his response, Elisha stared down Hazael until the Aramean servant stirred uncomfortably. Hazael had already forged a plan to assassinate his master and take the throne, and Elisha’s piercing glare told him that his plans were well-known. Then, shocking to Hazael, Elisha began to weep. He asked the prophet why he was crying, and Elisha replied, ‘Because I know what evil you will do to the Israelites.’ He then told him what he saw in Israel’s future: Hazael would burn cities, slaughter the youthful, dash babies to pieces, and rip open the stomachs of pregnant woman. It’s no surprise that the tender-hearted Elisha wept when he received these visions of the future. These were typical acts for invading armies intent on quelling the possibility of future rebellion: the burning of fortified cities would render them useless as defensible rallying points for later revolutions, and the execution of men, children, and even the unborn would decimate the present and even future build-up of an army. 9th century Assyrian conquest accounts speak of burning young boys and girls, and though the practice of ripping open pregnant women is rarely mentioned, it is referenced in a Neo-Babylonian psalm of lament (Psalm 137) and is attributed to Tiglath-Pileser I around 1100 BC. 

Hazael didn’t seem bothered by Elisha’s visions; he was more interested in how he could bring it to pass. ‘How could I, a contemptible dog [a lowly servant], do such a great thing?’ Hazael had no regard for Elisha’s tears; he heard of Israel’s future, and it excited him. He was eager to get on with it. A tear-stained Elisha reported that Yahweh had shown him that he, Hazael, was to be King of Aram. Elisha dismissed Hazael and began his trek back to Israel. Hazael hurried back before the sickly Ben-hadad and reported that Elisha said he would certainly recover (he declined, of course, not to inform him that he would die a different way). The very next day, emboldened no doubt by Elisha’s prophecy and believing the Israelite God to be on his side, he hatched his plot against his king. He took a thick piece of a bedspread, soaked it in water, and water-boarded the king until he died of suffocation. Hazael then claimed the throne and set his teeth against Israel, more than happy to bring death and devastation to Aram’s most hated enemy.

The Bible’s record of Hazael’s usurpation is attested by Shalmaneser III who records that Hazael of Aram murdered his king Hadadezer (a.k.a. Ben-hadad II). Shalmaneser scorns Hazael as a ‘son of a nobody,’ a bitter Assyrian epithet for usurpers who have no place on a throne. Hazael would reign for over four decades, from 842 to 800 BC. The beginning of his reign would be spent entangled with Shalmaneser III. When the western anti-Assyrian coalition fell apart in the 840s, Hazael remained staunchly anti-Assyrian and worked to thwart Shalmaneser’s attempts at expanding Assyrian power westward. Hazael held out for many years against Shalmaneser in both pitched battles and a dire siege of Damascus, and though he was able to retain Aramean independence, he did so at the cost of paying Assyria a heavy tribute. From 836 onwards Shalmaneser III was busy outside of Aram’s sphere of influence, principally in Urartu. Shalmaneser’s death resulted in weaker Assyrian rulers taking the throne, and this enabled Hazael to focus his attention on Israel for the latter part of his reign. With Hazael ascending the throne, a period of Aramean dominance in Israel-Aramean relations was beginning.

*  *  *

fighting outside Ramoth-gilead

The fifth Aramean episode takes place at the border fortress of Ramoth-gilead, where Jehoram’s father had been fatally wounded by an arrow while fighting on the front lines against Aramean defenders. Jehoram’s attack on Aramean-held Ramoth-gilead is the only biblical account of him leading an offensive against Aram; perhaps he heard that Ben-hadad II had been ousted and hoped to take advantage of a temporarily weakened Aram by throwing his forces against the prized border fortress. With Damascus no doubt in turmoil as Hazael consolidated his rule and won support from the army and people, there could be no better time for a major offensive. In early spring 841 BC, Jehoram and his Judean ally King Ahaziah threw themselves against Ramoth-gilead. They received help from an unexpected source: Shalmaneser III was advancing on Aram (perhaps he, too, heard of the usurper and was eager to take advantage of Aram’s temporarily weakened state) so that Hazael had no choice but to marshal his forces against the greater threat; by bolstering his northwestern defenses, Hazael couldn’t orchestrate a relief force for the besieged soldiers in Ramoth-gilead. Thus the Israelites were successful in taking the fortress, but Jehoram was grievously injured in the fighting. He placed his top army commander Jehu son of Jehoshaphat (not to be confused with the former king of Judah) in charge of the conquered fortress and retired to his winter palace at Jezreel to heal and bathe in the glories and acclaims of victory. 

Elisha anoints Jehu King of Israel

While Jehoram rested in Jezreel, Elisha dispatched one of the prophetic guild’s students to Ramoth-gilead where Jehu was in command. The prophetic student, following Elisha’s instructions, met privately with Jehoram in the upper room of a house in the fortress city, and there he poured olive oil on the army commander’s head and proclaimed that he was to be king over Israel. He then gave him a commission from God: ‘You will destroy the House of Ahab, and you will avenge the blood of all the prophets of Yahweh slain by Jezebel. All of the House of Ahab will perish, and I shall cut off all males from Ahab, both slave and free. I will make the House of Ahab like the Houses of Jeroboam and Baasha. The dogs will eat Jezebel in Jezreel, and there will be no one to bury her.’ Before Jehu could open his shocked mouth to speak, the prophet turned and fled from the city, much to the confusion of the Israelite soldiers and officers gathered about. 

When Jehu came out of the house, his officers cornered him and asked what ‘the madman’ had said. Jehu, suspecting that they were playing a prank on him or were trying to provoke him to rebellion against the disliked Jehoram, replied, ‘You know the man and his foolish talk.’ The officers disavowed any such knowledge and pressed their commander harder. Jehu broke down and told them what had transpired in the inner chamber, and his top officers – who didn’t like Jehoram and thought Jehu would make a much better king – jumped at the news. They rendered him royal homage by spreading their garments upon the dust for him to walk upon, and they forged an improvised enthronement ceremony by having him ascend the outside stairs to the upper story of the house. When Jehu set his foot on the uppermost step, they blew trumpets and proclaimed him king. Then they gathered their forces and left the captured fortress to begin to the forty-five mile trip to Jezreel to confront – and deal with – the ill-fated Jehoram. 

Jehoram of Israel [IV]

The second Aramean episode takes place some time after the healing of Naaman; at the time Elisha was likely living in Samaria and engaging with Jehoram on a regular basis. Ben-hadad II of Aram and Jehoram of Israel remained in a state of war, and somehow Ben-hadad’s raids into Israel were being met with stiff resistance. It became clear that someone was leaking information from his war councils to Jehoram, but who could it be? Ben-hadad gathered his top officers together and demanded to know the identity of the traitor. His officers insisted it wasn’t them, and one of them – perhaps Naaman? – said that ‘Elisha, the prophet of Israel, tells the king of Israel even the words you speak in the privacy of your bedroom!’ Perhaps the unnamed officer knew of Elisha’s powers and didn’t think it a stretch that Elisha would have a mystical ‘ear’ into the war councils; or maybe Aramean spies in Israel’s royal palace reported Elisha’s communiqués with the king. The Aramean king, convinced that this prophet of Israel was the culprit, ordered that he be sniffed out and seized. Aramean scouts reported that Elisha was at Dothan, a hilltop city located on a main trade route about ten miles north of Samaria, and Ben-hadad wasted no time in dispatching a vast raiding party of infantry, cavalry, and a contingent of chariots to march by night and take Dothan – and its prophet – by surprise. 

Yahweh reveals his heavenly armies

When Elisha’s servant – who had likely taken Gehazi’s place – got up the next morning and went outside, he saw the Aramean troops surrounding the city on the hill. The city was built atop Tell Dothan, which rose about two hundred feet above the surrounding pasture land. The servant had an eagle’s eye view of the Aramean infantry, cavalry, and chariots surrounding the hilltop city. The servant rushed to Elisha, lamenting that they’d been trapped. Elisha told him not to panic and insisted, oddly enough, that the enemy were far outnumbered. The servant had seen none of Israel’s armed forces, so he was puzzled. Elisha prayed that Yahweh would open the servant’s eyes so that he could see what he meant; God answered Elisha’s prayer, and when the servant looked up, he saw that the hillside around them was filled with ‘horses and chariots of fire,’ angelic forces protecting Yahweh’s prophet. Yahweh was often portrayed as the ‘Lord of Hosts’ (the commander of heavenly armies), and the servant saw a snapshot of what that phrase meant; it wasn’t mere lofty language! As an aside, it’s doubtful that God employs actual chariots; rather, He was showing His prophet and his assistant the power He wields in the invisible, spiritual realm, and He was doing so in a way that would make sense to them; nowadays one might see an ‘angelic host’ of tanks and Apache helicopters.

The Arameans, oblivious to the angelic protection encircling Dothan, began to advance on the city. Elisha’s servant asked what they could do to save themselves, and Elisha prayed that God would blind their enemies, and God did so. The Hebrew word for ‘blindness’ can mean a state of confusion in which they were willing to follow the prophet’s directions, as the Aramean raiders would allow Elisha to convince them they were attacking the wrong city. Under divine delusion, the soldiers would allow the prophet to lead them to the ‘lion’s den’ of Israel. The term could also be related to an Akkadian term for day-blindness, and in Hebrew it’s sometimes used to refer to night-blindness. Day-blindness is clinically called hemeralopia, and night-blindness is nyctalopia; both are caused by a vitamin A deficiency as the primary cause, and a secondary cause is a vitamin B deficiency that often results in mental fog or confusion (with which, it appears, the Arameans suffered). Whatever the exact meaning of the ‘blindness’ Yahweh afflicted on them, they were at the prophet’s mercy. Elisha strode out of Dothan’s city gates and met them in the pastures below. He told them they’d gone the wrong way and surrounded the wrong city; he said he’d take them to the man they were looking for, and he led them straight to the capital city of Samaria. 

Aramean soldiers are shocked to find themselves trapped
in Samaria

As soon as they were in Samaria – and surrounded by Jehoram’s royal troops with shields, spears, and swords at the ready – Elisha prayed that God would open the raiders’ eyes. God did so, and the Arameans realized they were inside Samaria and encircled by their enemies. The hunters had become the hunted; the trappers became the trapped. Jehoram respectfully asked if they should slay the enemy trapped behind Samaria’s walls; Elisha responded, ‘Do we kill captives of the bow?’ The phrase ‘captives of the bow’ is an expression found in Akkadian texts to describe people captured as part of plunder; such persons were at the disposal of the victor who could employ them in slave labor, sell them, or set them free. Israelite kings were (at least according to Aramean sources) known for their mercy (a mercy relative to despotic rulers, to be sure), and it may have been Israelite practice not to slaughter those captives taken ‘by plunder’ (differentiating them from captives taken ‘in war,’ i.e. in the midst of battle). Elisha may also be insinuating that these men were not Jehoram’s plunder; they were Yahweh’s plunder, for Yahweh had blinded them and captured them. It may also be that Elisha hoped to create friendly relations with the Arameans; Elisha instructed Jehoram to treat them to a banquet of food and drink, which would echo a ceremonial meal accompanying a special occasion or establishing a treaty agreement. Elisha may have prayed that the banquet would serve as a new turn in Israelite-Aramean relations. Jehoram no doubt wanted to slaughter his much-loathed enemy, but he acquiesced to Elisha’s instructions (he had a love/hate relationship with the prophet): the captured Arameans were treated to a banquet and then sent on their way.

The Aramean raiders stayed away from the land of Israel for a time, giving Israel a brief respite, but no lasting peace resulted. The temporary reprieve could be a response to Israelite kindness; Jehoram’s civil treatment of his prisoners didn’t exactly make the Arameans want to hurt him. It could also be that word of what’d happened spread through Aram and made the Arameans hesitant to throw against Israel. A corporate blindness affecting a vast host of Arameans, and them being led by a measly prophet right into the heart of the Israelite lion’s den, didn’t exactly build confidence among Aram’s officers. 

*  *  *

The third Aramean episode begins with an Aramean siege of Samaria. Ben-hadad II mustered his armed forces, quickly marched south against Israel, and besieged the capital city. How much time passed between God’s blinding of the Aramean forces in Samaria and the siege of Samaria is unknown. Because of the siege, a great famine spread through the city so that a donkey’s head sold for eighty pieces of silver ($50 of today’s money) and a pint of dove’s dung sold for five pieces of silver ($3 modern equivalent). The fact that these all but worthless items sold for such astronomical prices highlights Samaria’s dire straits. Donkey meat was unclean and forbidden according to Leviticus 11.1-7, but desperate city-folk were clamoring to get their hands on it. Dove’s dung may refer to a variety of wild vegetables – such as roasted chickpeas – or even to a thorny variety of acacia (as the term is occasionally used in Akkadian texts). However, it’s more likely that it means what it says: people were eager to get their hands on bird’s dung either as a fuel source for fire or even for food (eating feces is seen in many ancient accounts of siege conditions). 

an artist's rendering of Aramean siegeworks according to archaeological digs

As if these ‘hot commodities’ weren’t enough, one day Jehoram was walking the city wall, observing the Arameans encamped beyond, when a woman cried out to him for help. He hissed, ‘If Yahweh doesn’t help you, what can I do? I don’t have any food or wine to give you.’ Nevertheless he asked what was wrong, and she told him she’d made a pact with another woman: on the first day the two of them would eat her son, and on the second day they would eat the other woman’s son. The woman reported that she’d slain and cooked her son, and they ate his flesh; but the next day, when it came time for the other woman to slay and cook her son, she hid him. When Jehoram heard of this abominable cannibalism –eating human flesh was one thing; eating the flesh of your own child was quite another – he tore his clothes in despair. The cannibalism behind Samaria’s walls only intensified the city’s hopelessness, for cannibalism under severe conditions had been decreed as part of God’s curse for unfaithfulness and disobedience in Deuteronomy 28. The message was clear: the city was under God’s judgment. 

Jehoram, enraged and at the end of his rope, invited Yahweh to kill him if he didn’t behead the prophet Elisha that very day. Decapitation of an enemy was frequent practice in the ancient Near East, but why had Jehoram made Elisha his sworn enemy? Perhaps he figured that the current situation was a direct result of Elisha sparing Ben-hadad’s troops. If Elisha had permitted the slaughter or capture of the Aramean troops when they’d been surrounded in Samaria, perhaps all this could’ve been avoided! Or maybe Jehoram reasoned that Ben-hadad was on the hunt for Elisha, so that the city’s besiegement was due to Elisha’s presence within her walls. If so, Elisha was certainly to blame for the city’s grief. Another theory harks back to the fact that there was no sharp line drawn between a prophet as proclaimer and instigator; the Israelite people believed that prophets could ‘shape history’ by their words (remember how Jeroboam hoped to trick a good word from the prophet Ahijah?); perhaps Jehoram believed that the prophet’s words had somehow caused this tragedy to befall the capital. 

At this time Elisha was sitting in his house with ‘the elders of Israel’ – likely the heads of Samaria’s wealthiest and most influential families who were probably hoping to receive guidance and an oracle from the prophet – when Jehoram dispatched a messenger to summon him. Elisha sensed what was afoot, and he told the elders, ‘A murderer has sent a man to cut off my head. When he arrives, shut the door and keep him out. We’ll soon hear his master’s steps following him.’ Just as Elisha finished speaking, the messenger – identified as an ‘officer,’ a term denoting the king’s royal armor-bearer or adjutant – arrived and announced the king’s words to Elisha: ‘All this misery is from Yahweh! Why should I wait for Yahweh any longer?’ Unspoken was Jehoram’s real question: ‘Why should I not break with Yahweh, slay his lying prophet, and surrender the city to the Arameans and hope for the best?’ Jehoram probably intended for Elisha to be compelled to meet face-to-face with the king to suave his doubts, at which point the king could kill him; but Elisha gave the messenger a cryptic response: ‘This is what Yahweh says: by this time tomorrow in the markets of Samaria, six quarts of choice flour will cost only one piece of silver, and twelve quarts of barley grain will cost only one piece of silver.’ The flabbergasted messenger retorted that such a thing couldn’t even happen if God opened the windows of heaven; Elisha replied that the messenger would see it with his own eyes – but he added that he wouldn’t be able to eat any of it. 

the stunned lepers raid the abandoned Aramean camp

The biblical narrative then switches the scene from inside Elisha’s house to the city gates. Four lepers were on the verge of perishing in the ‘no man’s land’ between the Aramean siege-works and the barred city gate. Their friends in the city could no longer provide them food, as there was no more food to go around. Their only hope of survival was to desert to the enemy and hope for the best. At twilight they began walking towards the enemy encampment– but they found the Arameans had deserted before them! In the middle of the night the Aramean host had heard ‘the sound of chariot wheels’ and concluded that a vast army was sweeping down on them. Convinced that Jehoram had hired Hittite and Egyptian mercenaries to attack them from opposite directions in a pincer movement, Ben-hadad broke camp and scurried for home. Aram had a rich history of warfare with the Hittites, who had left their Anatolian homeland centuries earlier and resettled in regions north of Aram. The Hittites were centered in the city-states of Carchemish and Keratepe, and they were often at odds with their southern neighbor. Egypt had a history of getting entangled in wars throughout the Fertile Crescent, and it isn’t inconceivable that Jehoram could enlist Egyptian help. The Hebrew term mysrym refers to Egypt, but some scholars have speculated that the text originally said msry (for Musra) but was corrupted sometime in ages past. If the Arameans feared the Musri were upon them, they were probably thinking of the same Musri who appeared in the inscriptions from Shalmaneser III of Assyria during this period. The Musri were included among the allies from the ‘Land of Hatti’ who fought against Shalmaneser at Qarqar in 853 and are listed right after Jehu of Israel in the tribute list on the Black Stela of the same Shalmaneser from 841. The Musra likely lived in north Syria, above Aram, and they’re named as neighbor of Arpad (located north of Aleppo in northern Syria) in the Aramaic Sefire treaty of the 8th century. Perhaps, then, Ben-hadad suspected Jehoram of enlisting his northern enemies against him (remember the old adage, ‘the enemies of my enemies are my friends’); if he suspected this, it makes sense for him to uproot and head north, if only to protect Damascus from the swords and shields of his marauding northern neighbors. Whatever the Aramean king’s suspicions, they were enough to get him moving, and the lepers satisfied their hunger among the abandoned loot before reporting the events to Jehoram’s officers and court.

Jehoram, for his part, suspected some kind of trick; after all, a fake withdrawal was a well-known ruse in the ancient world: an enemy would pretend to withdraw, and when their pursuers ran ragged after them, an ambush would be sprung. Such a tactic was used by the Greeks against Troy centuries earlier and was recorded in The Iliad; such tales would’ve been known to the kings of Israel and Judah. Jehoram dispatched two chariots to investigate the report, and the charioteers followed the main road to the Jordan Valley. All along the route were the flotsam and jetsam of fleeing troops: garments, weapons, baggage, food. News of the Arameans’ departure spread through the city of Samaria like kudzu, and starving people flooded from the city gates to feast on what was left behind – and Jehoram’s officer, who had been so disdainful of Elisha’s prophecy and God’s power, was trampled to death in the mass exodus. 

Jehoram of Israel [III]

Gehazi and Elisha

Thus far we have examined the miracles with which Elisha began his solo ministry in the vein of Elijah, the Shunemmite Episodes, and the miracles which he performed during the seven-year famine. The author of 2 Kings doesn’t place them in chronological order but in thematic order; here I have attempted to place them in the former rather than the latter, and now we come the ‘Aramean Episodes.’ Aram continued to be a thorn in Israel’s side; since the repelling of the Assyrians at Qarqar, the fragile ‘friendship’ that Ahab had forged with Aram crumbled, and the two countries were again locked in a state of war. For most of Jehoram’s reign, this ‘state of war’ was confined to tit-for-tat border raids, but the tail-end of Jehoram’s reign would see two major battles (during the last of which the king would be gravely injured). There are five ‘Aramean Episodes’: Elisha and the healing of the Aramean general Naaman, Yahweh’s ‘blinding’ of an Aramean raiding party, the Aramean siege of Samaria, Elisha’s anointing of the usurper Hazael, and the (second) Battle of Ramoth-Gilead. We begin with the first.

Naaman of Aram was the commander of Ben-hadad II’s armies, and Ben-hadad had a great admiration for him, because through him Yahweh had given Aram many victories. Naaman, a pagan general, was but the tool of Yahweh – Aram’s victories were given by Yahweh in His own scheme of things beyond Israel. The message is clear that Yahweh is in control even of the pagans. Naaman was likely the top Aramean general serving under Ben-hadad; it’s probable that he’d held this position for a while and had led campaigns against Jehoram’s father Ahab. Though he was a great warrior, he suffered from ‘leprosy.’ The Hebrew word used in this passage for Naaman’s ailment can be used to describe a variety of skin diseases; indeed, the term is better translated as ‘lesions’ or ‘scaly skin.’ Mesopotamian culture viewed such diseases as unclean conditions that were punishments from the gods; though Naaman was honored in Aram’s military, he would’ve suffered social exclusion at home. The appearance and odor of skin diseases could resemble rotting skin on a corpse and were thus associated with death. His condition doesn’t seem to be contagious, and scholars have speculated that it may have been psoriasis, eczema, favus or seborrheic dermatitis, and maybe even a fungal infection (it’s doubtful that it was the highly-contagious clinical leprosy known as Hansen’s Disease, since this ailment is unattested in the ancient Near East until the days of Alexander the Great around 330 BC). Some time during Jehoram’s reign, the diseased Naaman led Aramean riders on a raid of northern Israel. They took many captives, among them a young girl whom Naaman gave to his wife as a maid. The girl seemed to like Naaman despite her imprisoned status; the text indicates that Naaman was neither capricious nor malicious, and he may have shown the girl much kindness by incorporating her into his household rather than letting more ‘virulent’ raiders do with her as they pleased. Whatever the reason, the girl was sympathetic towards Naaman, and she told his wife that she wished the general would visit ‘the prophet in Samaria’ because the prophet would heal him of his skin disease. Naaman’s wife told her husband of the girl’s words, and Naaman was intrigued: it was well-known that Elijah, a prophet of Yahweh, had been powerful, and it’s likely that he’d heard reports of the miraculous comings and goings of a new prophet in Israel. Naaman approached his king and requested permission to seek out this prophet; Ben-hadad gave him leave to visit the prophet and handed him a letter of introduction to present to Jehoram of Israel. 

Naaman left Aram with an entourage of horses and chariots laden down with 750 pounds of silver, 150 pounds of gold, and ten sets of clothing. Lavish gifts and royal letters of introduction were common practice in the ancient Near East, and the exorbitant wealth of Naaman’s gift – which we can assume came from his household rather than from the royal treasury – underscores Naaman’s wealth and prestige (it’s likely most of this wealth came from raids into Israel). Ben-hadad’s royal letter said: ‘With this letter, I present my servant Naaman. I want you to heal him of his leprosy.’ Stripped of diplomatic niceties, it was basically a command for the military general to be healed. When Naaman and his entourage entered Samaria under a flag of truce and presented the letter to the Israelite king, it came as quite the affront: the two nations were, after all, in a state of war. Why should Jehoram strive to heal the Aramean warrior who had actively fought against Israel’s interests? Ben-hadad had stomached his pride in writing the letter (such was his lofty measure of his general), and Jehoram couldn’t help but take offense: upon reading the letter, he tore his clothes (this could be a sign of grief, sorrow, or – most likely given these circumstances – agitation; it would’ve indicated a national crisis or tragedy). Due to the constant distrust between Aram and Israel, Jehoram assumed that Ben-hadad was trying to start a war. ‘Am I God,’ Jehoram lamented, ‘that I can give life and take it away? Why is this man asking me to heal someone with leprosy?!’ News spread of Naaman’s visit, and Elisha sent a message to the king, saying, ‘Why are you so upset? Send him my way, and he’ll learn there’s a true prophet in Israel.’

Naaman balks at Elisha's simple instructions

Jehoram was more than happy to get Naaman and his Aramean entourage out of Israel. Naaman headed towards Elisha’s house (assumedly in Samaria), and Elisha sent a messenger to Naaman instructing him to ‘Go and wash yourself seven times in the Jordan River. Then your skin will be restored, and you’ll be healed of your disease.’ Naaman was angry and put-off by the fact that Elisha hadn’t met him face-to-face; Naaman, after all, was a top general feared far and wide, and he had every right to meet the prophet in person! He also chafed against the ridiculous instructions; if Elisha were so powerful, he should’ve been able to ‘wave his hand’ (likely a reference to invocations and incantations) and call on Yahweh to heal him. As it were, Elisha prescribed a common ritual in the ancient Near East: in Mesopotamian namburbi rituals, one would achieve protective purification by dipping seven times in a river facing upstream and seven times facing downstream; the flowing water would carry one’s impurities to the netherworld. Naaman could scarcely believe he’d traveled all the way to Israel to be instructed to do something he could’ve just done at home. ‘Aren’t the rivers of Damascus, the Abana, and the Pharphar, better than any of the rivers of Israel? Why shouldn’t I just wash in them and be healed?’ Abanah and Pharphar were fresh, clear, and beautiful – and thus much better suited to purification than the muddied waters of the Jordan! If his leprous disease were to be washed away, wouldn’t the crystal-clear waters of his homeland be better suited to the task? 

Naaman is healed in the Jordan River

Enraged and put-off, Naaman ordered his entourage to do an about-face to head back to Aram. His officers tried to curtail him. ‘If this prophet had told you to do something difficult,’ they asked, ‘wouldn’t you have done it? So why not obey him when he gives you something easy to do?’ Naaman cooled off, turned his chariot eastward, and made his way through the rapidly descending valleys to the muddied banks of the Jordan River. He did as the prophet’s messenger instructed – and his skin disease was healed so that his flesh looked like that of a young child! That he was ‘washed and cleansed’ in the Jordan was a visible sign that it was Yahweh, the God of Israel, who healed him; and Elisha, who hadn’t been present, wanted to ensure that Naaman didn’t attribute the healing to Israel’s prophet: as it was unusual for rituals to be performed absent the presence of a specialist, it was crystal-clear that his healing came from Israel’s God rather than Israel’s prophetic practitioner.

Naaman, elated at being healed, was determined to give the customary gifts to the prophet for his healing, and yearning to learn more about the God of Israel, hurried to find Elisha. When they finally met face-to-face, Naaman said, ‘Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel.’ Because of his healing, Naaman became a monotheist – quite the turn, considering that many of Yahweh’s devoted followers in both Judah and Israel hadn’t quite tottered into the monotheist camp (they viewed Yahweh as the chief of gods, even as the ‘God of Gods,’ but still acknowledged the existence of other gods). Naaman offered up his gift for healing, but Elisha refused to accept it despite the general’s pleading. Naaman acquiesced but asked that he load up two of his mules with earth from Israel to take back to Aram, for ‘from now on I’ll never again offer burnt offerings or sacrifices to any god except Yahweh.’ Ancient Near Eastern mythology identified a nation’s god with the soil of the country where he (or she) was worshiped; Naaman intended to build an appropriate altar to Yahweh. He also asked that Yahweh pardon him one thing: when Naaman’s master (Ben-hadad II) went into the temple of the god Rimmon to worship, he leaned on Naaman’s arm for support so that when the king went to bow before his god, Naaman was bowing, too. Elisha told him to ‘go in peace,’ indicating that Yahweh would pardon him. The god Rimmon was likely Ramman, ‘the thunderer,’ a storm-god noted in Assyrian inscriptions and a key deity in the Aramean pantheon. Archaeological excavations in Damascus have been limited due to the city’s growth and urban sprawl, so the Temple of Rammon dating to this time hasn’t been found; however, a basalt standing stone from this period was grafted into the substructure of the Umayyad mosque, suggesting that the mosque was built over the site of this Aramean temple. The corruption of Ramman’s name to Rimmon may be an intentional misspelling of the deity’s name to belittle him (a common practice in the Bible); ‘Rammon’ referred to ‘the thunderer,’ but ‘Rimmon’ means ‘pomegranate’! 

Gehazi, watching Naaman’s entourage turn back for Aram without giving any of the customary gifts, brooded: he saw it as the height of folly that Elisha had refused the general’s gifts. Gehazi figured he was entitled to some of it, being Elisha’s apprentice and (he assumed) eventual successor, so he hurried to catch up with the Aramean party. Gehazi lied to Naaman, telling him that Elisha sent him, and he concocted a story: two young prophets from the tribal area of Ephraim had just arrived and Elisha wanted to provision them. He told Naaman that seventy-five pounds of silver and two sets of clothing would work. The ‘two sets of clothing’ was added to further the deception; it was really the silver Gehazi was after. A talent of silver was roughly equal to three centuries of a laborer’s wages so that Gehazi’s request would be like someone making $35,000 a year receiving ten million dollars. Naaman, ever grateful of the healing of the disease that had scoured him for life, insisted on doubling the gift; Gehazi pretended to decline the more generous offer, but this was nothing more than cultural niceties. Gehazi eventually accepted the double portion that would more than set him up for life. Naaman dispatched two of his servants to accompany Gehazi and his loot back to Elisha, and they set off – but when they reached ‘the citadel’ (the acropolis of the city, perhaps Samaria) Gehazi dismissed the servants: he couldn’t let them be seen inside the city, for it would arouse suspicion. Gehazi hid the gifts inside his house, anxiously anticipating a life of luxury and leisure.

Gehazi 'inherits' Naaman's skin disease

He returned to Elisha, who confronted him: ‘Where have you been?’ Gehazi lied, saying he hadn’t gone anywhere. Elisha chastised him: ‘Don’t you realize that I was there in spirit when Naaman stepped down from his chariot to meet you?’ Gehazi could only gulp as Elisha proved this by recounting Gehazi’s inner thoughts back to him: he planned on buying olive groves and a vineyard, sheep and oxen. He intended to make a name for himself, to live a life of self-indulgent luxury, and to be one of the elites of Israel. Such an action, Elisha knew, would bring the prophetic office into contempt with unbelievers and, worse, undermine the credibility of Elisha’s ministry. Gehazi was doing no less than turning his prophetic ministry into an opportunity for personal advancement – and for this sin he would pay the price. Gehazi wanted what belonged to Naaman, so he would get it. Because of Gehazi’s greed and trickery, he and his descendants would forever suffer Naaman’s skin disease – and as soon as Gehazi left Elisha’s room, his skin became like snow (likely referring not to the color of his skin but to its flakiness). This ‘leprosy’ wasn’t life-threatening; it was a social disease that made him a societal outcast. If he ever married and had children, they would carry Gehazi’s punishment down the line. The fate of Gehazi’s stolen goods isn’t mentioned, but one can imagine Gehazi reaping the ‘fruit’ of his trickery but unable to enjoy it for the scowls, jeers, and exclusion he suffered the rest of his life. 

Jehoram of Israel [II]

Several of Elisha's vignettes surround a wealthy woman of the town of Shunem, which was located on the eastern end of the Valley of Jezreel on the southwest slope of the Hill of Moreh. The town is listed in Egyptian itineraries, and archaeologists have discovered its Iron Age remains. The biblical narrative recounts three episodes of Elisha and the Shunemmite woman (who is never given a name). The first two episodes take place prior to a seven-year drought, and the third takes place after the drought. We’ll examine the first two here and return shortly to the third. 

'modern' Shunem (known as Sulam today)

The first episode recounts Elisha’s growing relationship with the Shunemmite woman. Elisha made it a habit to visit the town of Shunem, and a wealthy woman there asked him to come to her home for a meal. A friendship was kindled, and from that point on Elisha made a point to stop by her house for a meal whenever he passed through. The woman told her husband that they should build a sleeping chamber and study for the prophet on the roof of their home and furnish it with a bed, table, chair, and lamp that would probably be accessed by an outside stairwell; that way, whenever he came by, he’d have a place to rest and work in private. Elisha was moved by her kindness, and he told her that he and his servant Gehazi –Elisha’s prophetic apprentice – appreciated her kindness and wanted to pay her back. They could put in a good word for her before the king or before the commander of Israel’s armies, perhaps? She said no, for her family provided all her needs. Elisha and Gehazi consulted as to how they could repay her, and Gehazi pointed out that the woman didn’t have a son and her husband was an old man. Elisha instructed Gehazi to bring the woman back; when they were face-to-face, Elisha told her that this time next year, she’d be holding a son in her arms. She was incredulous; we can assume that she and her husband, now getting ‘up in years,’ had tried unsuccessfully for children through the duration of their marriage; children were a couple’s lifeblood back then, and they served a variety of purposes that are foreign to the western world today – but sure enough it happened just as Elisha had said.

The second episode takes place many years after the birth of the woman’s son, and it echoes Elijah’s relationship with the Phoenician widow with whom he sought sanctuary. Just as Elijah fostered a relationship with the Phoenician widow, so Elisha fostered a relationship with the Shunemmite woman; just as Elijah had lived with the Phoenician woman, so Elisha ‘lived with’ (even if only in passing) the Shunemmite woman; and just as Elijah raised the Phoenician woman’s dead son to life, so Elisha raised the Shunemmite woman’s dead son to life. This episode showcases the continuum of prophetic power and commission between Elijah and Elisha. This is how it went down: the child went out to help his father harvest their fields, and suddenly he cried out, ‘My head hurts! My head hurts!’ His father ordered the servants to carry him back to his mother. The servants obeyed, and the Shunemmite woman held her son in his lap until he died around noon. Theories regarding his quick death attribute the sickness to sunstroke, brain aneurism, cerebral hemorrhage, cerebral malaria, and even meningitis (though no one can know for sure). The boy’s mother carried him up to Elisha’s rooftop room and laid him on the prophet’s bed; she sent a message, instructing her husband to send a servant and a donkey so she could hurry to Elisha, who had apparently just left. Perhaps she believed that Elisha, as Elijah’s heir, could duplicate the old prophet’s well-known miracle for the Phoenician widow’s son. Her husband, apparently clueless regarding the boy’s death, wondered why she was in such a hurry to fetch Elisha; ‘It’s not the new moon or the Sabbath!’ he exclaimed. Israelites marked the first day of the month with its ‘new moon’ phase as a festival day; on these days, all work was to cease and sacrifices were made. These festivals – like the Sabbath – were convenient opportunities for people to seek an oracle from a prophet. The woman’s husband, then, is asking why she’s fussing about getting Elisha now when she could just wait for a more appropriate and convenient time. The woman shushes her husband and goes on her way, making the twenty-mile trek northwest to Mount Carmel and coming into sight of the prophet on the mountain’s slope.

When Elisha saw the woman hurrying towards him, he sensed something was amiss and sent Gehazi to ask if there was a problem with her, her husband, or her child. She brushed off Gehazi’s inquiries; she was interested in dealing with the prophet himself. Gehazi led her to Elisha, and she fell to the ground and grabbed hold of his ankles (a cultural sign of self-abasement and entreaty). Gehazi went to shove her off, but Elisha commanded him to leave her alone. ‘She’s deeply troubled,’ he told his apprentice, ‘but God has not told me why.’ The woman looked up at Elisha from her spot on the ground and asked him, ‘Did I ask you for a son? And didn’t I say ‘Don’t deceive me and get my hopes up?’ Elisha saw through her veiled language and ordered Gehazi to take his staff and return to Shunem; he was to talk to no one – nothing could get in the way of the urgency of the mission! – and place the staff on the boy’s head, perhaps to signify the prophet’s intention to identify with the boy and claim God’s power. Gehazi did as instructed, but the staff had no effect; there was no sign of life, as Elisha’s staff had no magical power. Elisha may have been echoing Akkadian incantation texts where a staff is used as an instrument by which exorcisms against asakku demons (which bring disease and fever) are effected; one would place the staff on the boy’s face since he’d reported that it was his head that hurt. Some have speculated that Elisha didn’t expect the staff to have any magical properties; rather, he may have instructed Gehazi to lay the staff against the boy’s face as a sign to the woman that all would be well. 

Elisha and the Shunemmite woman began a leisurely track back to Shunem, and en route meet Gehazi returning from town. He told the prophet that the boy was truly dead. When Elisha and the woman arrived, the child lie dead on Elisha’s upstairs bed. Elisha went in alone and shut the door and prayed to Yahweh. He lay on the child’s body, placing his mouth on the child’s mouth, eyes on the child’s eyes, and hands on the child’s hands. This ‘action prayer’ echoed Elijah’s raising of the Phoenician woman’s son, and it echoed ancient superstition in which one prepared the body for re-inhabitation of the soul or spirit by restoring its warmth. The boy’s body began to grow warm, and Elisha stood up and paced the room, analyzing the situation and praying as he did so. He stretched himself back out over the child, and the boy ‘sneezed’ seven times and opened his eyes. The Hebrew word translated ‘sneezed’ occurs only here, and its meaning is uncertain; it could also mean ‘convulsed’ or ‘moaned’; if ‘sneezed’ is the accurate translation, it could show the recovery of the boy’s suspended respiration. Elisha summoned Gehazi and told him to fetch the child’s mother. When she barreled into the room, she took her breathing son and cradled him. She fell at Elisha’s feet and bowed before him, overwhelmed with gratitude. 

Some time later God determined to bring a famine upon the land which would last for seven years. The Shunemmite woman and her household migrated to the fertile Philistine plain which, though not totally exempt from the effects of the famine, didn’t suffer from such natural calamities as much as Samaria and Judah did. Though Samaria typically experienced more rainfall than Philistia in the southern coastal plain, the alluvial flood plain of the coast was less dependent on the rainfall and would thus be a good place to weather a famine. For seven years the woman and her family lived in the foreign land. During this time her husband died, and when she and her son returned to Israel, they would face a quagmire for which she’d have to address King Jehoram to resolve. But, alas, we are getting ahead of ourselves.

God declared that a seven-year famine would oppress Israel. The decreed famine was twice as long as the drought that struck during Elijah’s time, a play on the ‘double portion’ that Elisha inherited from his predecessor. The Bible recounts three episodes that take place during this famine: poisoned stew at Gilgal, a miraculous feeding at Gilgal, and a lost axe head in the Jordan River. At the conclusion of the famine, we encounter the third and last Shunemmite Woman episode.

an apple of Sodom

Elisha spent a lot of time at Gilgal, a center of prophetic activity along with Bethel and Jericho. The prophets at the Gilgal Chapter of the prophetic guild spoke against the evils of the day, not least the continued worship of the Baal-Melqart cult and the Golden Calf abominations. When Elisha gathered with the ‘sons of the prophets’, he took the place of honor at the head of the table. One day at Gilgal he told Gehazi to prepare a pot of stew. One of the young prophetic students who helped gather food had chosen some wild gourds, shredded them, and put them in the stew without realizing they were poisonous. After a few of the prophets had a few bites, they could tell the stew was poisoned. It’s likely that the bad gourds were colocynths, known today as ‘apples of Sodom.’ They were produced by a vine and had powerful laxative properties; they can be fatal if eaten in large doses. Though most scholars believe that the prophetic students recognized the poisoned fruit by taste or a nauseas sensation, it’s likely – if the culprit was, indeed, colocynths – that they recognized the poison when they were suddenly hit with explosive diarrhea. Elisha instructed the students to bring him some flour; he put the flour in the pot and declared it was fine. The flour symbolized purification, and in some ancient Near Eastern texts, flour or ground meal was believed to possess magical power able to remove evil magic. Elisha reproduced a procedure that would’ve been familiar to the ‘world of magic’ but did it differently (when it comes to biblical ‘reproductions’ of ancient magic, one must pay attention not to the similarities but the dissimilarities; in this case, Elisha forewent the incantations and ritualistic preparation of the flour).

Another episode with food took place at Gilgal. A man from Baal-shalishah (traditionally located at Bethsarisa on the plain of Sharon about fifteen miles northwest of Joppa) brought Elisha a sack of fresh grain and twenty loaves of barley bread made from the first grain of his harvest. Each loaf of bread was equal to what one person would eat as a meal. The offering is similar to the first of the crops normally presented to God and to the priests (Leviticus 23.20; Deuteronomy 18.4-5); because of Israel’s religious corruption and Jeroboam’s outlawing of Levitical priests, this man of God couldn’t offer the ‘first-fruits’ as Mosaic Law commanded; by offering them to Elisha and the prophets, he was acknowledging them as ‘stand-ins’ for the Levitical priests in the wake of Jeroboam’s reformations. The fact that the man of God made such an offering during the famine displays his piety and trust in Yahweh. Elisha ordered his apprentice to distribute the food to the prophetic students, but Gehazi was incredulous: ‘Do you seriously expect a hundred people to survive off this?’ Elisha repeated his command, insisting, ‘This is what Yahweh says: everyone will eat, and there will even be some left over!’ Gehazi stifled his protests and did as commanded, and everyone was fed – and there were even leftovers. This miraculous feeding anticipated the miracles of Jesus as recorded in Matthew 14.15-21 and 15.32-38.

The third episode during the famine took place at the Jordan River. A group of prophets game to Elisha at Gilgal and told him that their meeting place was too small. They wanted to go down to the Jordan River to collect wood to build a new meeting place. The forest areas of the Jordan Valley near Jericho and Gilgal were rich in timber; particularly useful were acacia, tamarisk, and willow. Elisha told them to go ahead, and they invited him along. When they reached the river, they began felling trees. As one of the prophets was cutting down a tree, his axe head fell into the river. He panicked, as it was a borrowed axe and he was responsible for it. The Hebrew indicates that the axe was made of iron, making it extremely valuable (there wasn’t a whole lot of iron to go around in those days). The prophet, knowing he was liable to replace it and couldn’t afford a new one on his ‘meager’ prophetic salary, petitioned Elisha for help. Elisha asked where it fell, and the prophet showed him. Elisha cut a stick off a tree and threw it into the water at that spot; then the axe head floated to the surface so that the man could simply reach out and grab it. This episode showcases Elisha’s concern for even the simplest matters of his prophetic students.

After seven years, the famine ended. At this time the Shunemmite woman returned to Shunem in Israel only to find that her land had been reverted to crown property. This was according to law: because her property had been abandoned so long, its title automatically transferred to the state. The woman would have to petition for its return, but because her husband had died, she was reliant upon her son – her husband’s sole heir – for the restoration of property. She made a trek to the Israelite capital of Samaria to petition King Jehoram for a return of her land. The king granted her request, but of interest is the fact that Jehoram was meeting with Gehazi. It would seem that Jehoram had sent for Gehazi to satisfy his curiosity in regards to the miraculous deeds of Elisha. Jehoram and Elisha had never been on friendly terms, so Jehoram was more keen to consult with Elisha’s apprentice than to summon the prophet himself. Given what we have seen so far of Gehazi’s character – and what will be revealed in the ‘Aramean Episodes’ towards the end of Jehoram’s reign – it’s likely that Gehazi was more than happy to answer any of the king’s questions – for a price.