In my last post, I began to go through chapter 2 of Bart Ehrman’s book, How Jesus Became God. It is in chapter 2 that Ehrman attempts to argue that within Judaism there was a “divine-human continuum” similar to that of the pagan world. What does that mean? Basically, it is the belief that there are a variety of beings, some purely human, some purely divine, and some a mixture of both human and divine. We obviously see this in pagan myths, but the question is whether or not ancient Judaism shared that same view.
Ehrman says yes. I say Ehrman is wrong.
Angel Sex…Sons of Elohim and the Nephilim
So where does Ehrman get this idea that there was a continuum of divine-human beings in Judaism? Well, one of the first places he goes to is that odd little section in Genesis 6:1-4 that talks about the ‘sons of God” (Elohim) taking any of the “daughters of men” (Adam) they wanted, and those women giving birth to the Nephilim. Erhman’s take on this admittedly curious passage is that it is talking about angels having sex with women and having superhuman offspring. As he states:
“Putting all this together, one can see that divine beings—the sons of God—had sex with women on earth, and their semidivine offspring were giants. I am calling them ‘semidivine’ both because they were both of the unions of divine beings and mortals and because they do not actually live in the heavenly realm like other divinities. But they are superior to other humans—giants who made fantastic warriors, for rather obvious reasons. As a side note, I think we can assume that in order for the sons of God to make these women their wives, they had to assume human shapes” (62-63).
Ehrman thus concludes this is simply a Jewish version of pagan myths. Now, I suppose if all you knew about Genesis 6:1-4 was what Ehrman said, then you might be inclined to agree. Of course, what Ehrman doesn’t say is that not all scholars agree with his take on Genesis 6:1-4. Some scholars argue that the “sons of God” represent the lineage of Seth, while the “daughters of men” represent the lineage of Cain—personally I don’t see that as convincing.
Others, like myself, believe that Genesis 6:1-4 is talking about tyrannical kings (in the ancient world kings were often called “sons of elohim”) who abuse their power by preying upon the rest of humanity, taking any woman they want.
This interpretation makes sense in light of the context of Genesis 1-11. In Genesis 1-2, God creates mankind (with the woman being an equal partner to the man) in His image, to rule over His creation, to be a priest of His creation, and to serve His creation. Yet, as a result of Adam and Eve’s sin in Genesis 3, one of the consequences was that Eve would be ruled over by Adam—i.e. that men would use their power over women. And this is precisely what we see going on in Genesis 6:1-4. It is a picture of rulers, using their power and position to use and abuse women. Instead of using their power to care for God’s creation and serve humanity, tyrants use their privilege to do the exact opposite.
Incidentally, nowhere in Genesis 6:1-4 are the Nephilim called “giants.” The actual Hebrew describes them as “mighty ones who from ages past were men for a name.” In addition, the name Nephilim literally means “the fallen ones.” Put that all together, and what do you get? A picture of humanity that is the polar opposite of what God had originally purposed for humanity. It also serves as the reason for the story of the flood that comes next: humanity, that was supposed to bear God’s image and care for God’s creation as priest-kings, had been corrupted where men of power abused the rest of humanity.
Incidentally, the Nephilim come up from time to time throughout the Old Testament—they are often associated with the Canaanites in general, and the Philistines in particular. They are the “giants” in the land, the “sons of Anak” who descended from the Nephilim (i.e. Goliath is one of them). Biblically-speaking, the identity of the Nephilim is not some mystery.
One more thing needs to be said here: when Ehrman says Genesis 6:1-4 is a Jewish version of pagan myths, he’s not entirely wrong. I actually believe Genesis 1-11 is mythological literature—and that is an entire subject in itself. But here is the point: mythological literature is not meant to be historical. Ancient myths were the metaphorical way ancient cultures expressed their fundamental beliefs about the gods, human beings, and the created order. They served as the archetypal backdrop by which ancient cultures attempted to understand their history.
And thus, what we see in Genesis 6:1-4 is essentially the metaphorical/archetypal picture of the corruption of humanity, not some claim that angels were able to get human bodies and have sex with women. Read the text—it doesn’t say that. Ehrman is simply asserting that angels must have been able to get human bodies so they could have sex with women—but the text does not say that.
Daniel’s Son of Man
Another passage Ehrman uses to argue that there was a “divine-human continuum” in Jewish thinking is Daniel 7, where “one like the Son of Man” ascends on the clouds of heaven, sits at God’s right hand, and is given all authority over the earth. Now, here is another instance of Ehrman glossing over a rather complicated passage and presenting an extremely over-simplistic (and I would argue, misleading) explanation of the passage.
After noting that in general the Son of Man figure represents Israel, or possibly a kingly, messianic figure who represents Israel, Ehrman also notes that some interpreters suggest that the Son of Man is an angelic being who is the head of the nation of Israel. From there, Ehrman alludes to another apocalyptic text (I Enoch 51:3), where the messiah is identified with the Son of Man and as the coming cosmic judge, and immediately jumps to what I feel is a rather questionable conclusion:
“Now the ruler anointed by God is not a mere mortal; he is a divine being who has always existed, who sits beside God on his throne, who will judge the wicked and the righteous at the end of time. He, in other words, is elevated to God’s own status and functions as the divine being who carries out God’s judgment on the earth” (67).
Let’s get right to the point: that is an extremely, over-simplistic interpretation that smacks of the wooden literalism of a fundamentalist mindset. We are dealing with apocalyptic literature, which is, by definition, full of cosmic symbolism that isn’t meant to be taken literally.
In the case of Daniel 7, it is describing (in apocalyptic imagery!) the persecution of Antiochus Epiphanes IV, the Seleucid ruler who was persecuting the Jews around 167 BC. He is the “little horn”—mind you, Antiochus Epiphanes was not a literal horn. The “Son of Man” figure depicts the hope of a future messiah-king who would free the Jews from persecution. The reason why he is called the “Son of Man” is because literally it is “Son of Adam”—he will represent what God had intended humanity to be in Genesis 2: priest-kings of God’s creation who bear His image and administer His justice within His creation.
Simply put: the “Son of Adam” kingly figure in this apocalyptic vision will vindicate God’s people as the true humanity. The image of him beside God’s throne isn’t saying he is some sort of “divine figure,” but rather that he, along with God’s people Israel, is to represent true humanity, and fulfill the purposes God originally had when He “created Adam in our image.”
Simply put: Daniel’s Son of Man isn’t a “divine figure,” but of the true human being/people of God. The language of apocalyptic literature might be “cosmic,” but it serves to underscore the significance and true identity of God’s people.
The King of Israel
Obviously related to the Son of Man figure in Daniel is that of the general Old Testament picture of the king of Israel. As Ehrman correctly notes, in the Old Testament the king of Israel was often referred to as “the son of God.” Of course, the major difference between the Jewish understanding of the king being “the son of God” and the pagan view is that in Old Testament Israel, the king was essentially adopted as “God’s son” when he took the throne.
Simply put, the title held symbolic significance, but in no way was the king thought of as literally God’s son, and hence some sort of divine or semi-divine being. He was thoroughly human. Read the entirety of I Samuel through II Kings and see if you find any indication that any king of Israel or Judah was ever portrayed as actual divinity. Spoiler alert—you won’t find it.
Therefore, it is curious to me how Ehrman tries to use passages like Psalm 110 to argue that “The king is being portrayed as a divine being who lives in the presence of God, above all other creatures” (78). He acknowledges that the psalm is about God conquering the king’s enemies for him, but then seems to think that since the king is told to “sit at God’s right hand,” that the king has been exalted to the level of actual divinity.
Even when we come to a passage like Psalm 45:6-7 (“Therefore, Elohim, your Elohim, has anointed you with oil…”) we should be wary of the wooden literalism of Ehrman, when he claims this passage is claiming the king of Israel to be literally divine, and a god.
- Is there any indication from I Samuel-II Kings that kings of Israel and Judah were seen as divine beings? No.
- Is it true that the king, by virtue of being the leader and figurehead of God’s people is portrayed in the Psalms as being symbolically “adopted” by God? Yes.
- Is it wise to take statements made in poetry as being literal claims of divinity? Probably not.
- And heck, isn’t it possible that Psalm 45:7 is being addressed to the king and essentially saying, “Oh king, God—your God—has anointed you with oil…”? I think so—and I certainly think it fits in better within the entire corpus of the Old Testament than Ehrman’s claim that makes Psalm 45 stick out like a sore thumb.
There is one more passage Ehrman mentions in his attempt to claim that kings of Israel were understood to be divine: Isaiah 9:6 (For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace). Ehrman correctly points out that in the original context, this passage in Isaiah was celebrating the birth of Hezekiah. But then, in the true fashion of wooden literalism, he sees that phrase “mighty God” and concludes, “As the son of God, he is exalted to the level of God, and so has God’s status, authority, and power—so much so that he can be called God” (80).
What Ehrman fails to note, though, is that’s not the way Jews interpret Isaiah 9:6. In the Babylonian Talmud: Tractate Sanhedrin, Folio 94a, Hezekiah is referred to as “the one who has eight names,” these names coming from Isaiah 9:6-7: Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty, Judge (i.e. Elohim), Everlasting, Father, Prince, and Peace. In fact, the Jewish interpretation of these names is that they do not describe the child himself (i.e. Hezekiah), but that they point to God Himself.
And so, to the point, Ehrman’s claim that the Jews viewed Hezekiah as divine is refuted by ancient Jewish interpretation itself.
Conclusion
In addition to these examples, Ehrman also points to Philo of Alexandria’s depiction of the Logos as the “image of God,” the “firstborn son” of God, and sometimes even an Angel of the Lord. I am choosing not to go into this claim at this point because I plan to eventually write a few posts on Richard Carrier’s claims that Jesus was never a historical figure at all—and he essentially makes Philo a major part of his argument. And so, I’ll deal with Philo in those posts.
Finally, Ehrman also alludes to Moses, and more specifically to Philo’s description of Moses in his writings as someone who, as Exodus 4:16 states, “functioned as God.” Ehrman writes, “Philo indicates that Moses appeared to others as a god, but he was not really God in essence. Here, Philo is playing with the idea that there are levels of divinity. In fact, he thought that through his life, Moses was “gradually becoming divine” (Sacrifices of Abel and Cain 9-10).
To be blunt, I think Ehrman is stretching things quite a bit. I am Orthodox, and in Orthodoxy, we view salvation as a process of deification, to where we become more like God. Yet I don’t think anyone thinks that means there are “levels of divinity” on the divine-human continuum as Ehrman claims. Simply put, speaking of Moses as being representative of God to the people, and even more God-like than most people, does not mean the Jews thought Moses was literally a semi-divine being.
I’ve gone on long enough in this post. In my next post on Ehrman, I will cover his third chapter: “Did Jesus Think He Was God?”
I’m liking this series. I wanted to also add that after Carrier tried to attack Tim O’Neill and Bart Ehrman on his blog, O’Neill razored through him in perhaps the most vicious takedown of Carrier I’ve seen in the history of takedowns. Twice. Necessary readings on the mythicist discussion.
https://historyforatheists.com/2016/07/richard-carrier-is-displeased/
https://historyforatheists.com/2018/02/jesus-mythicism-2-james-the-brother-of-the-lord/
Thank you for that! I recently got into bit of a Twitter battle with Carrier himself…quite entertaining!
The Nephilim are a polemic against the Canaanite ancestor cult, explicitly using the same term (Rephaim). Whether or not the Nephilim are the descendants of evil gods or evil kings is irrelevant in a political climate where the neighbouring rulers are claiming divine descent and worshipping their dead kings.
Kings do not exist in isolation, they are part of diplomatic system that requires culturally distinct nations to have an international ideology. The book of Samuel is explicit in kingship being an imported foreign institution. The Israelite priesthood may have desired to keep their kings mortal in their theology but were still importing and sharing terminology with cultures that had their own theological concerns. The Davidic King being ‘Son of God’ is an adaptation of an imported title, the same one you use to claim that Genesis 6’s ‘Sons of God’ are humans.
The Nephilim of Genesis 6 are a literal Biblical version of a pagan myth, or rather the royal ideology of the Israelite’s nearest neighbours. Calling them ‘evil Canaanite kings’ is just restating that and saying ‘Kings not demigods’ is ignoring how pagan royal ideology functioned. Pretty much every royal line claimed divine descent at the time, which is why the Biblical writers had to make the wickedness of that royal ideology explicit. If the Biblical writers had wanted to deny foreign kings a divine lineage they would have done that clearly but they do not.
Second Temple theology developed in a very different political climate where Canaanite ancestral lineages had no relevance, so the Nephilim were interpreted differently in works like 1 Enoch and the Book of Giants which still have clear human/angel breeding (and appear to have been reasonably normative texts so later Rabbinic or Christian thoughts on the topic aren’t relevant to the first century).