Thread by @JamesBejon

THREAD: In honour of #Purim2020, some (reworked) thoughts on the big story of Benjamin…

…and its connection to the story of #Esther.

Below, a 19th cent. scroll from Iraq (cf. kedem-auctions.com),

w. blessings and curses to be read before and after in the 1st column.

BACKGROUND

Scripture isn’t a library; it’s a story—one of creation and redemption and more besides.

Intertwined within Scripture, however, are various sub-themes/stories,

which are typically defined by their intertextuality.

In the present note, we’ll consider Benjamin’s.

The story of Benjamin unfolds against an enigmatic backdrop.

When Jacob first meets Rachel (Benjamin’s mother), he begins to weep (Gen. 29.11).

At first blush, his tears appear to be tears of joy.

Might they also, however, embody a deeper significance?

A number of Rabbinic commentators seem to think so.

The last person in Scripture to ‘lift up his voice and weep’ (לשאת את קולו ולִבְכות) is Esau, who weeps because he has been tricked out of his ‘birthright’ (בכורה).

Might Jacob’s tears therefore anticipate the grief and trickery entailed in his marriage to Laban’s ‘firstborn’ (בכירה)?

It’s hard to say. Either way, Benjamin’s story begins enigmatically.

And it continues in much the same vein.

Rachel is Jacob’s beloved (Gen. 29.18ff., 33.2). Yet her life is one of many sorrows.

Her relationship with Leah is a constant source of grief (Gen. 25.22 w. 30.6–8).

And, later in life, as Benjamin is born, Rachel passes away amidst ‘severe birthpains’.

Consequently, the prophet Jeremiah hears the voice of Rachel ring out from Ramah (a Benjaminite town) in lament over her lost sons (Jer. 31).

Equally enigmatic are the names associated with Benjamin.

With her final breath, Rachel names her son ‘Ben-Oni’ = ‘son of my travail’, yet Jacob (re)names him ‘Benjamin’ = ‘son of my right (hand)’,

...apparently on the basis of a different interpretation of ‘Oni’ (viz. ‘strength’ rather than ‘travial’).

Per his choice of name, Jacob keeps Benjamin at his right hand (in Canaan) while the rest of his sons head down to Egypt.

The prophecies associated with Benjamin add further colour to the picture.

Moses sees Benjamin as ‘the beloved by YHWH’—one who is ‘sheltered by the Most High’ (Deut. 33)—, while Jacob depicts him as a ‘ravenous wolf’ (Gen. 49).

In sum, then, Benjamin’s background teems with possibilities, which gradually take shape as the Biblical narrative unfolds.

A DARK NIGHT IN GIBEAH

The first major event associated with Benjamin in the Biblical narrative occurs in Judges 19–20,

where a Levite and his concubine spend a (brutal) night in Gibeah.

Suffice it to say, it is one of the darkest and most horrific stories in Scripture.

As the Levite and his concubine settle down for the night, the ravenous wolves of Benjamin gather outside the door.

And, the next day, the sun rises on the body of a dead (or near-dead) concubine, who has been raped throughout the night.

Soon afterwards, the tribes of Israel go to war against Benjamin, the result of which is the near extinction of the tribe of Benjamin.

Consequently, at the conclusion of Judges 20, we find the people of Israel assembled at Shiloh,

where they lift up their voices and weep (cp. וישאו קולם ויבכו in 21.2).

Benjamin’s line is about to be erased from history, and the voice of Rachel is about to ring out once again.

Or so it seems.

But the men of Israel devise a ‘solution’ to preserve Benjamin’s line.

Their solution is (to put it mildly) far from ideal.

It involves a yearly feast at Shiloh, further abuse of women, and the desolation of Jabesh-Gilead. Yet it does enable the tribe of Benjamin to live on.

Hence, at the outset of the Biblical narrative, the tribe of Benjamin is associated with dark and violent events.

THE RISE OF SAMUEL

Against the backdrop of Judges 19–20 (from a canonical perspective), the story of Samuel begins to unfold.

It opens in a grimly familiar manner, i.e., with a yearly feast at Shiloh, tears (בכה) in Ramah (cp. 1 Sam. 1.1, 7),

and the threat of extinction (viz. the imminent end of Hannah’s line).

It therefore seems as if Samuel’s story will follow the trajectory of Gibeah’s (Judg. 19–20).

But, mercifully, it does not.

While the men of Judges 20 resort to violence, Hannah turns to God in prayer,

and the tide of male violence in Judges is hence stemmed by a godly woman.

Soon afterwards, light begins to dawn in Israel.

Samuel is born,

and Ramah becomes a place of justice (7.16–17) (at least for a while).

And, next, Saul arises.

The question is whether Saul will continue the good work begun by Samuel or go his own way.

In 1 Samuel 9–31, we find out.

THE RISE OF SAUL

Although the rise of Saul is greeted with enthusiasm by the Israelites, it has unmistakably sinister undertones.

Like the Benjaminites of Judg. 19–20, Saul is introduced to us as a Gibeahite warrior of significant renown.

As such, he is portrayed as a man with a sinister past.

His association with the events of Judg. 19–20 is then underscored by 1 Sam. 11–14’s employment of key terms and images:

These connections (between Saul and Gibeah’s past) are no coincidence.

Saul is introduced to us in a highly ambiguous light.

On the one hand, he is portrayed as a potential redeemer—a man of strength/honour (חיל) who rescues Jabesh-Gilead and hence has the ability to atone for Benjamin’s sins.

Yet Saul is at the same time associated with a dark and violent history.

Which way, then, will things turn out?

Will Saul follow in the footsteps of Samuel or cause further tears in Ramah?

Was Gibeah’s problem its lack of a king (cp. Judg. 21) or will the selection of a king from Gibeah turn out to be a problem in its own right?

Sadly, Saul’s kingship turns out to be an unmitigated disaster.

Just as the Levite of Judges 19 makes an awful decision when he decides to lodge in Gibeah (Saul’s hometown) rather than Ramah (Samuel’s), so the Israelites make an awful decision when they choose Saul over Samuel,

and tears start to flow in Ramah all over again (cp. 15.34–35).

Samuel is the man Israel should have asked for—which explains the rather unusual statement Hannah makes in 1.20,

where Hannah provides an etymology for Samuel’s name which makes it seem as if Samuel should have been called Saul (cp. שָׁאוּל in 1.20)—, but, rather than ask for Samuel, Israel ask for Saul,

whose name is uncomfortably akin to (the name) ‘Sheol’ (שאול) and whose life and reign rapidly spiral out of control.

Note: The events of 1 Sam. 9 do not represent the last time Israel enter into a covenant with Sheol (cp. Isa. 28.15).

THE REIGN AND RUIN OF SAUL

Saul’s reign is mass of contradictions.

In the course of it, Saul rejects Israel’s priesthood, chief prophet, and (replacement) king.

The first to be cast off is the priesthood.

While the men of Ramah are happy to wait for Samuel to arrive at his chosen high place, Saul is not (cp. 1 Sam. 9 w. 13).

Saul instead elects to officiate over Israel’s sacrifice himself, and goes on to align himself with a deposed priesthood (the sons of Ichabod: cp. 14.1ff.).

Next, Saul rejects YHWH’s appointed prophet insofar as he disobeys Samuel’s command (to slay Agag).

Saul’s rebellion is likened to the sin of ‘witchcraft’ (1 Sam. 15), which is exactly what Saul ultimately turns to (at En-Dor: cp. 1 Sam. 28).

And, last of all, Saul rejects YHWH’s appointed king, namely David.

Saul becomes insanely jealous of David’s success.

While he refuses to slay Agag (who is handed to him on a plate), Saul is happy to travel the length and breadth of Israel in his bid to slay David.

Hence, in 1 Sam. 24, Saul himself ‘lifts up his voice and weeps’ as he realises how far he has fallen and how grievously he has sinned against David.

Ultimately, therefore, Saul dies the death of one of God’s enemies—skewered like the Benjaminite-slain Eglon and beheaded like Goliath.

It is a sad and tragic end to a life of great potential,

and results in long-term enmity between the houses of David and Saul (cp. Shemei and Sheba’s actions in 2 Sam. 16.5, 20.1).

Saul’s demise is also part of a transfer of power insofar as it dovetails with the rise of David.

As Saul loses popularity, David gains it.

David also, ironically, begins to act like a Benjaminite and to fulfil a number of the prophecies associated with Benjamin.

While Saul is frightened to go to battle against Goliath, David defeats him with a distinctly Benjaminite weapon (a sling).

While Saul is unable to sleep, David dwells in security (ישכן לבטח: Psa. 16) per the promise vouchsafed to Benjamin (Deut. 33.12).

And, while Saul is defeated by an enemy he should have defeated (1 Sam. 31), David ‘devours the prey’ of the Amalekites at dawn and ‘divides their spoils’ among his people at nightfall (1 Sam. 30.17–19) per Jacob’s prophecy in Gen. 49.27.

David even gives his son (Solomon) the alternative name ‘Jedidah’ (cf. ידידיה in 2 Sam. 12.25),

which resonates with Moses’s prophecy in Deut. 33.12, where Benjamin is referred to as ידיד יהוה = ‘the beloved of YHWH’.

These events are unusual, but are hinted at in various ways elsewhere in Scripture.

Benjamin is born en route to Bethlehem, which foreshadows the way in which Saul the Benjaminite’s kingship is transferred to David the Bethlehemite (cp. Gen. 49.10).

Also of note is the sequence of events outlined in Isa. 10–11.

Isaiah describes the fall of twelve cities, at least half of which are closely associated with Saul—viz. Ai, Migron, Michmash, Ramah, Gibeah, and Nob (10.28ff.)—,

and, immediately afterwards, he describes the rise of ‘a shoot from Jesse’ (11.1).

In sum, then, Saul dramatically fails to make amends for the Gibeahites’ sins.

Redemption must arise from another place. And, happily, it does.

ESTHER

At the outset of the book of Esther, an age-old foe arises against Israel. The foe in question is Haman.

Haman is a foe whose rise Saul should have prevented, since Haman’s origins can be traced back to Agag the Amalekite.

In God’s providence, however, a Benjaminite is ready in the wings to make amends for Saul’s failures: Esther.

Note: Below is a midrashic ‘translation’ of Esther (image from thetorah.com) with an extra portion of Mordecai’s ancestry written in the top margin...

...which explicitly links Mordecai back to Saul.

As such, Esther’s battle against Haman constitutes a replay of Saul’s against Agag.

Indeed, the parallels between Saul and Esther’s lives are extensive.

Consider, for instance, the way they rise to power:

Esther and Saul’s careers therefore begin in similar ways.

But, happily, they soon begin to diverge.

While Saul lets his power go to his head, Esther uses her power with great wisdom.

In 1 Sam. 20, David fails to attend two feasts (held on consecutive days), which leads Saul to fly into a rage and sentence his friend (David) to death.

Meanwhile, Esther arranges a similar sequence of feasts, at which she turns Ahasuerus’s anger against her enemy, Haman,

whose life begins to nosedive in highly Saul-like fashion.

Consumed by hatred, Haman’s behaviour becomes progressively more extreme...

...until he finds himself prostrate on the ground at the feet of a woman whom he has previously terrorised, overcome by fear and anxiety.

Even Haman’s death is distinctly Saul-like:

Esther therefore succeeds precisely where Saul fails.

Furthermore, while Saul is not permitted to take Agag’s spoils yet disobediently does so (and thrice proclaims his innocence in the matter: 1 Sam. 15.13, 15, 20),

the Jews of Esther’s day are permitted to take Agag’s spoils yet thrice decline to do so (9.10, 15, 16).

As such, Esther makes amends for Saul’s failures and disposes of Benjamin’s age-old enemy.

Things are on the up for Benjamin. Redemption is in sight.

THE APOSTLE PAUL.

But, as wonderful as they may be, Esther’s actions do not constitute a full reversal of Saul’s failures,

since the consequences of Saul’s failures go beyond an unvanquished foe.

Saul did not only miss out on an opportunity to dispose of Agag; he established enmity between the lines of Benjamin and Judah.

And, in the context of the Biblical narrative, that enmity is not laid to rest until a later Benjaminite rises to power: the apostle Paul.

Saul and Paul have a number of things in common.

Both men are Benjaminites and have the same Hebrew name.

Both men rise to power against the backdrop of a nation which has rejected God. (The Israelites of Samuel’s day reject God when they reject Samuel’s kingship, while those of Jesus’ day do so when they declare they have no king but Caesar.)

Both men align themselves with a fallen priesthood.

And both men set themselves against Israel’s Messiah and his people.

Moreover, just as Saul sets out to slay David and is ‘diverted’ by an extraordinary spiritual experience, at which point Saul (involuntarily) begins to prophesy, so Paul sets out to persecute God’s people and is diverted by his Damascene experience, later to prophesy.

(‘Is Paul among the prophets?’, some may well have asked in a puzzled voice.)

But, for all the similarities between Saul and Paul’s live, the two men end up in very different places.

While Saul’s spiritual experience only diverts his evil intentions, Paul’s encounter with the risen Messiah changes him forever.

To put the point more precisely: while Saul’s hostility is temporarily averted by David’s question, ‘Why do you pursue (καταδιώκω) a dead dog like me?’, Paul’s is forever taken away by Jesus’ (‘Saul, why do you persecute (διώκω) me?’).

Consequently, while Saul rebels against God’s Judahite Messiah, Paul submits to him (Gen. 49.8).

And so, like his ancestor Benjamin, Paul becomes the lastborn of ‘the twelve’ (1 Cor. 15).

At the same time, Paul’s life takes on a completely new shape.

For a start, Paul inherits aspects of the young Saul’s character.

No longer is his behaviour characterised by pride and self-ambition.

Paul instead sees himself as ‘the least’ among his people (1 Cor. 15, Eph. 3.8),

and replies with prudence and modesty when his authority is called into question (e.g., 1 Cor. 4, 9).

And, while the spiritually blind Saul seeks out a witch in En-Dor, the apostle Paul encounters a Gentile magician in Salamis, whom he renders physically blind.

At the same time, Paul’s life begins to mirror David’s:

Nevertheless, Paul labours on and never looks back for one simple reason:

he recognises what Jesus the Messiah has done for him and hence knows he is ‘beloved of YHWH’ (cp. Gal. 2.20 w. Deut. 33.12).

Just as Judah the patriarch long ago ‘bore the blame’ for Benjamin (Gen. 43.2), so the Son of Judah has born the blame for Paul the Benjaminite.

And, as a result, Paul’s life will never be the same.

What was once gain to him, Paul now counts as loss for the sake of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, his Lord.

No longer does Paul act like one of the ‘ravenous wolves’ about whom Jesus warns his disciples (cp. λύκοι ἅρπαγες in Matt. 7.16).

The disciples have gone forth like lambs in the midst of wolves (Luke 10.3), and, in response, the Benjamite wolf has lain down with the Lamb (Isa. 11, 65).

Benjamin’s past has finally been redeemed,

not by means of a second chance or a fresh start, but by means of a personal and transformative encounter with the risen Messiah.

THE END

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