The Koren Bible in front of me looked worn out. Years of study and of leafing through it had left its mark. This evening, I was covering the Book of Ruth. I disliked the tome but, in the course of my steady Bible Reading, had to cover it every now and then. I was about to put the book aside and get ready to retire when Theophil materialised next to me. As he assumed the guise of my late pal Peppi, I realised that this was a friendly visit. If his object had been to castigate or scold me, he would have chosen the image known to monotheistic religions, that is, the form of Asmodeus, the Archfiend.
“What prompted you to reveal yourself now, Maestro? I am curious but, as you know, it is always good to see you.”
“Quite a few of your Orthodox friends – Christians, Muslims or Jews – would disagree. They think I am the epitome of evil and fear me. But of course, nothing is further from my mind than harming a friend like you, Peter’le.”
“So, what brings you here today, Maestro? Surely, you do not seek to tell me something about Ruth?”
“No, Peter’le. I am not going to disclose any secret information. But I want you to have a good look at this succinct and well written tome. Surely, you are not perturbed by the style?”
“Actually, I know it is lucid. I am deeply disturbed by two points made in the book. These induced me to describe it as Shtut, which means nonsense in modern Hebrew.”
“Strong language, Peter’le. We’ll come back to it later. Presently, let us consider the two points you found disturbing.”
“The first concerns the very opening of the book. In the Koren Tanach [Old Testament] Harold Fisch translates it as follows: “Now it came to pass in the days when the judges ruled, that there was a famine in the land.”
“Surely, Peter’le, this is a good translation, isn’t it?”
“It is. But the statement is vague. By contrast, Jonah refers to the period in which the Northern kingdom of Israel was reigned by Jeroboam II. The period mentioned in Ruth is confusing.”
“Why is that so? Surely, it covers the years starting from the death of Joshua ben Nun and ending with the first year of Sha’ul’s Kingdom? That would be some 200 years or so.”
“But, as you know, I belong to the many who doubt the Exodus and the conquest of the land of Israel by Joshua. So did the members of the Canaanite movement of the 20th century, of which I was a member.”
“The Canaanites of the 20th century are largely forgotten, Peter’le. Who were they?”
“A bunch of intellectuals, who took the view that to survive Israel had to sever its links with Diaspora Judaism and return to the Canaanite culture of a remote past.”
“Very well, Peter’le, based on the Canaanite orientation and the premises you adhere to, what is the meaning of ‘the period when the judges ruled’?”
“It probably refers to the very lengthy periods in which the Israelite consciousness started to form, that is, the period during which the Israelites became an entity of its own – an era of a national Israelite consciousness, departing from the mainstream of the population but preceding the rise of the monarchy.”
“That would, indeed, be a lengthy period,” agreed Theoph. “Let us assume that it might involve some three to four hundred years.”
“So, we have a starting point,” I agreed. “But I can see a further difficulty. The Book of Judges relates the wars and campaigns of individual judges. We are told nothing about judicial episodes (or legal cases) heard and tried by them. Am I overlooking anything?”
“No, Peter’le. Your statement is correct. Judges is replete with tales of prowess and courage. Still, some ‘judges’ are just referred and we are told how many years they ‘judged’. So, what were they?”
“Each was a leader. His function was to govern. This leads me to the conclusion that the correct title would be ‘Chieftain’ rather than ‘Judge’. Does this make sense?”
“It accords with the view of most modern scholars, Peter’le. And if you accept their view, it follows that the so-called sons of Jacob were eponyms. But Peter’le, ‘eponym’ is not a word used in everyday language.”
“I get your point, Maestro. Here is a relevant example: ‘Jehudah’ might have been the name of the tribe’s first chieftain. In other words, ‘eponyms’ are tribal designations later cast in narrative forms as individual forefathers. I hope this clarifies the point.”
“It does,” was Theophil’s laconic reply.
“I think, Maestro, we can take this even further. Some chieftains (‘judges’) might have been contemporaneous and may have ruled only a section of the population. It explains, for instance, why the Song of Deborah [Jud. 5] does not refer to Jehudah or Shime’on. These tribes, or chiefdom-domains, were not viewed as part of the population governed by Barak.”
“On this point, too, your view accords with modern critique. So, all in all, the opening words of Ruth are vague about the epoch in which the narrative takes place. Let us leave this for the moment. What is your other (or second) cause for disliking Ruth?”
“The genealogy of King David, set out at the end of chapter 4. Why is he brought into the picture? The books of Samuel and Kings tell us a great deal about ‘his worthiness’. Why the need to drag him into Ruth?”
“Peter’le, Peter’le, do you have a valid, intellectual, objection or are you giving vent to the dislike for King David, which you share with many Israelis of your generation? Aren’t you yielding to a prejudice traceable back to your years in secondary school?”
“I suspect you hit the nail on its head, Maestro. What made you refer to this hostile stand?”
“Your behaviour, Peter’le. As you know, I have watched you when reading the bible. You bristle whenever you encounter David’s name. What do you have against him? Surely, not the ugly episode respecting Uriah and the possession of Bat Sheba?”
“Not really. It was a disgusting incident: having one of his choice adherents killed in battle and taking over his wife. Still, David repented and, we are told, that God – your friend, Maestro – forgave him. My dislike is due to a different reason. David wanted to join the rank of the Philistines in their final campaign against Sha’ul, the anointed King of the Israelites. In my opinion, this was treason!”
“That is, indeed, one point of view. What is the stand of Orthodox Jews, Peter’le?”
“They regard David as the very icon of the faith. I recall how, during my long-gone youth in Tel Aviv, I observed the Ḥaredim chanting: ‘David, King of Israel, lives, lives and exists’. They admire David for his prowess and the rise of the United Israelite Kingdom of his days.”
“Let us suppose, just for the moment, that this was also the view of Ruth’s author. Or, alternatively, let us assume that he was neutral about King David. In that case, wouldn’t the genealogy serve a purpose? Try to be detached, Peter’le.”
“In the case, it would. It tells us that Boaz was David’s ancestor. When read together with the opening line of the book, we are told that the story of Ruth took place four generations prior to King David’s birth. According to tradition, David’s reign was from 1010 to 970 BCE. Accordingly, Ruth is attributed to the 12th or 13th century BCE.”
“So, despite your dislike of King David, the genealogy helps to clarify the chronology,” observed Theophil. “Well, my friend, what do you have to say as regards your second cause for disliking the tome?”
“I withdraw it, Maestro,” I conceded.
“Well, then, we can now pursue our discussion without the vent of prejudices. Let us turn to the story: you will agree that narrating it is appropriate. Many people have never read the book.”