Earlier this Fall, on October 31, to be exact, biblical scholar Esther J. Hamori came out with her book, God’s Monsters: Vengeful Spirits, Deadly Angels, Hybrid Creatures, and Divine Hitmen of the Bible. On Amazon, the book has gotten scores of five-star reviews. Everyone from Bart Ehrman, Cornel West, and many others have endorsed the book, calling it powerful, deeply intelligent, full of wicked wit, hilarious, and fun. Given my rather critical book analysis of Francesca Stavrakopolou’s book, God: An Anatomy, last February, one of my Facebook friends suggested I give God’s Monsters a read to see if it might warrant a book analysis of its own. I read it. It did. So, here it is…welcome to my book analysis series on God’s Monsters.
Yes, a New Book Analysis Series
Without wanting to give too much of a spoiler alert, I want to say up front that I was not impressed with the book. I didn’t find it deeply intelligent—I found it simplistic and ignorant in its various interpretations of biblical passages. I didn’t find it very witty either—its attempts at humor struck me as juvenile and sophomoric. I did find it hilarious and fun to read, but I’m pretty sure for very different reasons that those who gave it a glowing endorsement.
The stated purpose of Hamori’s book is to draw our attention to the more weird and bizarre parts of the Bible that most Christians gloss over or sanitize. And yes, it is very true that there are some very weird, bizarre, and disturbing parts of the Bible. In my 16 years teaching Biblical Studies in small Christian high schools and an additional 8 years at the university level, I make it a point to point such passages out to my students. It tends to jar them out of their Sunday School mentality, and they realize that the Bible bear little to no resemblance to those sappy “Precious Moments” Bibles and figurines. To the point, I’ve found that shocking the students a little with some of the disturbing parts of the Bible actually wakes them up and gets them to engage in the Bible in a deeper, more thoughtful, and more mature way.
…that is not what Hamori tries to do in her book, though. What she does is the exact opposite.
Throughout her book, she makes it clear that she wants to push back against the simplistic, sanitized, and saccharine presentations of the Bible that (sadly) characterize a vast majority of churches. If you’ve grown up in church or have gone to a Christian school, you know what that is like. Now, to push back on that kind of simplistic, sanitized presentation of the Bible is admirable and needed. But the way in which one pushes back is important…and Hamori’s presentation of the Bible is just as mind-numbingly simplistic as the sanitized presentations, just at the polar opposite end of the spectrum. If I can put it this way, the message Hamori gives is this, “Hey, the God of the Bible isn’t a jolly, white-bearded grandfather with chubby baby-angels surrounding him, who just loves you, wants to be your buddy, and has a special place in His heart for fluffy bunnies and chocolate candies. No, the God of the Bible is a piece of **** who has an army of blood-thirsty creatures and who just loves to torture and maim human beings for his own sick and twisted gag-reel! Masochist! Sadist! Evil monster of monsters!”
To go from the “fluffy bunny version” of God to the “Hannibal Lecter version” of God—from one extreme to the other—seems to be a recurring occurrence these on a wide range of issues, be they religion, politics, or anything else. It’s the equivalent of someone growing up in a family who watched Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker and the PTL club and voted for Pat Robertson for president, but then got burned at some point by someone in that Evangelical subculture and now wears Che Guevera shirts, touts Communism, and mindlessly embraces every hysterical woke protest and movement there is.
People like that are not interested in getting at the truth of something. They are more interested in pushing an agenda. And what I realized while reading God’s Monsters is that when you are read a Biblical Studies book and are able to tell EXACTLY what the author’s political ideology and views are, there is something seriously wrong with the book.
That being said, the one major “plus” God’s Monsters has over Francesca Stavrakopolou’s God: An Anatomy is that Hamori actually has a clearly defined thesis and argument in her book, and everything in her book is clearly tied back to support that argument. I completely disagree with Hamori’s thesis and think her arguments are poor, but they are clear and are clearly meant to support her clear thesis. Simply put, structurally, God’s Monsters is not a “hot mess.” (Oh, and in case I wasn’t clear, Hamori’s basic thesis is basically summed up in the above “God is a piece of ****” comment. That is what she attempts to argue in the book).
In any case, when it comes right down to it, my two biggest criticisms of the book are that (1) I just found the tone and writing style to be juvenile and sophomoric, and (2) the biblical exegesis displayed in the book is, well there’s no other word for it, horrible. With all that for a teaser, let’s jump right in! I’ll be going through God’s Monsters chapter by chapter, highlighting what Hamori’s arguments are and providing my own comments.
Chapter 1: Seraphim
Hamori begins this chapter with a reference to Numbers 21:4-9, when YHWH sends “snakes” into the Hebrew camp in the wilderness as punishment for their grumbling and yearning to go back to Egypt. The actual Hebrew word translated as “snakes,” though is seraphim (singular being seraph). They aren’t necessarily just regular snakes—they are deadly “fiery serpents” and are related in some way to the heavenly seraphim around YHWH’s throne (as in Isaiah 6). In any case, these seraphim come into the Hebrew came, bite people, and many start dying. Then YHWH tells Moses to make a bronze seraph, put it on a pole, and that anyone who was bitten who looks at it will be healed.
Hamori relates the bronze seraph to the image of the cobra in Egypt (like the one on King Tut’s death mask) called an uraeus—it was considered a poisonous “burner-snake” that also served as a symbol for divine power and protection from snakebites. I found this to be a very interesting connection. After all, the golden calf episode has connections to the worship of the Egyptian bull-god as well. It would seem to keep with the general theme of the Exodus of the Hebrews constantly yearning to go back to Egypt and essentially getting a taste of the consequences of longing for slavery and oppressive gods. It would also further the theme that YHWH is greater than the gods of Egypt. Ultimately, since He is the only true God, nothing happens in this world without His allowing it to happen—such is the theological challenge of monotheism.
Not only that, but the identity of these “fiery serpents” in some way with heavenly creatures in ANE mythology known as seraphim opens the door to contemplating how the biblical writers sometimes used the ANE imagery in their telling of Israel’s history. Simply put, yes, stories like Numbers 21:4-9 are pretty bizarre, and they do challenge us to realize there is more to that story than simply “oh, some desert snakes bit people.” Although I believe there was a historical Exodus, I don’t think the stories in Exodus-Numbers are the equivalent of historical documentaries. They are filled with penetrating symbolism that we often miss.
Hamori, though, doesn’t really interpret the story responsibly. Her interpretation strikes me as shallow and juvenile. For her, God in this story is no better than a mob boss who orders the deadly attack then offers his victims his “protection.” She writes, “Incensed at the people’s insubordination, the Godfather sends his heavies to do his dirty work. After the people are satisfactorily beat down, he extorts ‘protection’” (21).
Hamori then shifts to a discussion of Moses’ speech in Deuteronomy 8:1-3, where he exhorts the Israelites to keep God’s commandments “so that they may live.” Hamori interprets this as God threatening them that if they don’t obey his rules, he will end them. She then claims that when Moses says that YHWH led them in the desert for forty years to humble and test them (Deut. 8:2-3), he really said that YHWH took them to the desert to intentionally harm them and afflict them. She claims that the manna YHWH provided for them in the desert was part of that affliction, as it says in 8:16: “…and fed you manna in the wilderness that your fathers didn’t know about, in order to humble [WAIT! No, AFFLICT] you and test you…”
This manna, Hamori says, was “weird food” that they didn’t know of back in Egypt—and somehow, she surmises that it was bad-tasting and essentially torturous to eat. It is amazing what one can do when one cuts and pastes parts of verses and rips them out of their contexts. For one, in the full sentences in 8:15-16, Moses first reminds them that God provided water from a rock for them, then mentions the manna in the desert, and then states that it was all to DO THEM GOOD. The very verse Hamori is alluding to contradicts the claim she is making.
Isaiah 6: Seraphim Around YHWH’s Throne
After belaboring her point about this scene in the desert for 4-5 more pages, Hamori then discusses Isaiah’s vision of YHWH on His throne in Isaiah 6. Yes, His throne is surrounded by seraphim—not beautiful-looking angelic people with white robes and wings—but by terrifying and bizarre heavenly creatures: “He [Isaiah] sees bizarre, hybrid winged serpentine-humanoid creatures flapping their wings over hands and shouting about God, the commander of the heavenly armies” (31). Yes, this much is true. At this point in Isaiah 6, Isaiah says, “Woe is me! I am a man of unclean lips and I dwell among a people of unclean lips!” It is then that one of the seraphs takes a coal from the altar, touches his lips, and says, “This has touched your lips and has removed your iniquity. Your sin in atoned for.” This is Isaiah’s call to be a prophet. Any biblical scholar worth his/her salt knows what this scene means.
Hamori, though, has a considerably different take. First, she never mentions what Isaiah says. Second, she never mentions what the seraph says after he touches Isaiah’s lips. Please note, those are two REALLY IMPORTANT DETAILS in the scene. No, she simply explains the scene like this: “One of the seraphim flies over to him—how terrifying that alone would be! In its hand is a glowing coal that it’s taken from the altar with tongs. The seraph reaches out toward Isaiah’s face—oh God!—and burns his mouth with the glowing coal” (32). She later begrudgingly acknowledges it was to purify Isaiah of his sin, but still insists that it was divine “assault.”
She then continues to what YHWH tells Isaiah, that he is to prophesy to the people and make their ears dull and their eyes dim, so that they will hear, but won’t understand, who will see, but won’t perceive. Now, on the surface, to someone who is not versed in Biblical Studies, this might seem horrible. It seems God’s plan is to purposely make it impossible for the people of Judah to listen to Isaiah’s message and repent—it’s as if He wants to destroy them. Indeed, that is exactly the way Hamori interprets this passage. She says this scene in Isaiah 6 is just like what happened in the desert in Numbers 21—The mob boss God just wants to take out these innocent people and destroy them! In fact, Hamori (as did Stavrakopolou in her book, God: An Anatomy) claims that the seraphim covering their “feet” with their wings is a reference to them covering their genitalia. But whereas Stavarakopolou said they covered up out of respect for YHWH’s massive penis, Hamori suggests they covered up to defend themselves from any assault from YHWH. That’s right, Hamori suggests that the seraphim are afraid YHWH might kick them in the nuts.
Conclusion to Chapter 1
Ultimately, drawing attention to the seraphim in various biblical passages is a good thing. The fact is, most people do, in fact, gloss over them and read into them their own preconceived assumptions. It is tantalizingly easy to whitewash the Bible. Yes, the seraphim are bizarre and terrifying. That should cause us to step back and reconsider what certain passages are saying. But, what Hamori does is simply replace those whitewashed assumptions with her own blackballing assumptions. She even restates the “lessons” she wants her readers to take away from this chapter: (1) God gets his kicks by sending seraphim-serpents to “burn people with their venom,” and (2) God sends one of his seraphim to “burn those sinful lips” of Isaiah. “He’s the mad scientist who orchestrates a coordinated attack of poisonous snakes, the destructive giant surrounded by a heavenly regiment of hybrid monsters—and throughout, he’s the mob boss who uses his heavies to threaten everyone in the neighborhood, extorting deference on pain of death” (38-39).
I’m sorry, that’s just silly. It is a sophomoric caricature of an ancient text. Just wait, it gets better.
