Who Is the "I" of 4 Ezra?

© 2013 Koninklijke Brill NV ISBN 978-90-04-25867-9

Fourth Ezra and Second Baruch

Reconstruction after the Fall

Edited by

Matthias HenzeGabriele Boccaccini

With the Collaboration of

Jason M. Zurawski

LEIDEN • BOSTON2013


CONTENTS

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi

PART 1

INTRODUCTION

4Ezra and 2Baruch: The Status Quaestionis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3Matthias Henze

PART 2

4EZRA, 2BARUCH AND PRE-70CE JEWISH LITERATURE

4Ezra and 2Baruch in Light of Qumran Literature . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31Devorah Dimant

The Evilness of Human Nature in 1Enoch, Jubilees, Paul, and 4Ezra: ASecond Temple Jewish Debate . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63Gabriele Boccaccini

PART 3

PSEUDEPIGRAPHY IN 4EZRA AND 2BARUCH

Enoch and Ezra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83John J. Collins

Traditionary Processes and Textual Unity in 4Ezra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99Hindy Najman

Who Is the ‘I’ of 4Ezra? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119Lorenzo DiTommaso


viii contents

PART 4

A CLOSE READING OF 4 EZRA AND 2 BARUCH

Ezra’s Vision of the Lady: The Form and Function of a Turning Point . . 137Loren T. Stuckenbruck

The Epistle of Baruch and Its Role in 2Baruch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151Lutz Doering

The Otherworldly Mediators in 4Ezra and 2Baruch: A Comparisonwith Angelic Mediators in Ascent Apocalypses and in Daniel,Ezekiel, and Zechariah . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175Benjamin E. Reynolds

Baruch as a Prophet in 2Baruch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195Balázs Tamási

PART 5

THE SOCIAL AND HISTORICALCONTEXT OF 4EZRA AND 2BARUCH

4Ezra and 2Baruch in Social and Historical Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221Lester L. Grabbe

Why Ezra and Not Enoch? Rewriting the Script of the First Exile withthe Hope for a Prompt Restoration of Zion’s Fortunes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237Pierluigi Piovanelli

PART 6

4EZRA, 2BARUCH, AND EARLY CHRISTIANITY

The Uses of Apocalyptic Eschatology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253Adela Yarbro Collins

A New Testament Reader’s Guide to 2Baruch: Or a 2Baruch Reader’sGuide to the New Testament . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271GeorgeW.E. Nickelsburg

On a Possible Baptismal Background of 4Ezra 13:3–6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295Alexander Toepel


contents ix

The Nature of the Resurrected Bodies: 2Baruch and the NewTestament . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309Eugen J. Pentiuc

PART 7

4EZRA, 2BARUCH, AND POST-70CE JEWISH LITERATURE

Enoch, Ezra, and the Jewishness of “High Christology” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337Daniel Boyarin

4Ezra and 2Baruchwith the (Dis-) Advantage of Rabbinic Hindsight . . 363Steven D. Fraade

PART 8

THE NACHLEBEN OF 4EZRA AND 2BARUCH

The Preservation of 4Ezra in the Vulgate: Thanks to Ambrose, NotJerome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 381KarinaMartin Hogan

Nachleben and Textual Identity: Variants and Variance in theReception History of 2Baruch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 403Liv Ingeborg Lied

Index of Modern Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 429Index of Ancient Sources . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 434


WHO IS THE ‘I’ OF 4EZRA?*

Lorenzo DiTommaso

Who is the ‘I’ of 4Ezra? The question of the narrative perspective of thebook is inseparable from the issue of its form and function. In her recentmonograph, Theologies in Conflict in 4Ezra:WisdomDebate and ApocalypticSolution, KarinaMartin Hogan proposes that Ezra’s dialogues with the angelUriel (3:1–9:25) reflect a theological debate between two “schools ofwisdom”that were active in late Second Temple Judaism.1 As she sees it, the figure ofEzra espouses the covenantal wisdom of the books of Ben Sira and Baruch,whereas Uriel epitomizes the eschatological wisdom of the Dead Sea text4QInstruction. Neither figure, however, represents the author of 4Ezra, nordo the dialogues echo an internal psychological struggle on his part, as Her-mann Gunkel and above all Michael E. Stone contend.2 Hogan agrees withStone that Ezra undergoes a radical conversion which is critical to the pur-pose of 4Ezra, but disagrees that the dialogues are the catalyst. Instead, andinformed by Kierkegaard’s ideas of the dialectic, she contends that the dia-logues produce a negative result. They leave a dejected and fatigued Ezra ina state of emptiness that is akin to a Socratic aporia.3 It is in this state thatEzra experiences his vision of the transfiguration of the mourning woman

* I am indebted to Michael E. Stone, who kindly read and commented on a preliminarydraft of this paper.

1 Karina M. Hogan, Theologies in Conflict in 4Ezra: WisdomDebate and Apocalyptic Solu-tion (JSJSup 130; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 39–40. In her view that the dialogues mirror a debatethat was external to the author of 4Ezra, Hogan is in step with Egon Brandenburger, Adamund Christus: Exegetisch-religionsgeschichte Untersuchung zu Röm 5:12–21 (WMANT 7; Neu-kirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1962), Wolfgang Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheissung derGeschichte: Untersuchungen zum Zeit- und Geschichtsverständnis im 4. Buch Esra und in dersyr. Baruchapokalypse (FRLANT 97; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1969), and tosome degree Bruce W. Longenecker, Eschatology and the Covenant: A Comparison of 4Ezraand Romans 1–11 (JSNTSup 57; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1991).

2 Hermann Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” Die Apokryphen und Pseudepigraphen desAlten Testaments (ed. Emil Kautzsch; Tübingen: Mohr, 1900), 2:331–402, Michael E. Stone,Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress,1990). See now Dereck Daschke, City of Ruins: Mourning the Destruction of Jerusalem throughJewish Apocalypse (BIS 99; Leiden: Brill, 2010), esp. 105–110.

3 Hogan, Theologies in Conflict, 38, 229.


120 lorenzo ditommaso

(9:26–10:59). It forces him to acknowledge “the failure of his own under-standing,”4 and prepares him to receive enlightenment in the form of sym-bolic visions (11:1–14:50), which propose “a third theology—an apocalyptictheology.”5 In this way, according to Hogan, form follows function. The pur-pose of 4Ezra is to address a crisis of faith among its audience brought aboutby Israel’s subjugation to Rome. The failure of the wisdom theologies to dothis is established by means of the revelatory dialogues. The vision of thetransfigured woman prepares Ezra and the book’s audience to receive con-solation in the form of the apocalyptic theology of the symbolic visions,thereby resolving the crisis.Hogan’s thesis has much to commend it. It is clearly presented and offers

valuable insights into multiple aspects of 4Ezra. It recognizes that theauthor of 4Ezra and the figure of Ezra are not identical. Most of all, it pre-sumes that the form and function of 4Ezra are integrally related, and thatthe primary function of the book is to identify the appropriate epistemolog-ical (theological) basis by which its audience can resolve the crisis inducedby the historical situation.Yet, in order to argue that 4Ezra presents three theologies, Hogan is

obliged to distinguish between what she identifies as the “apocalyptic the-ology” of the symbolic visions and the two “wisdom theologies” of Ezra andespecially Uriel as they are expressed in the dialogues. As she sees it, thesymbolic visions i) focus on the eschatological vindication of Israel as thefulfilment of ii) God’s predetermined plan for history and iii) are inherentlymythical and irrational. These features identify the theology of the visionsas “apocalyptic,” and distinguish it fromUriel’s theology, whose i) focus is onthe final judgment and the fate of individuals and ii) issues of free will, andwhich, along with Ezra’s theology, iii) is presented in the form of a rationaldialogue. The distinction is central to the purpose of 4Ezra:

… the author [of 4Ezra] apparently did not believe that the problems raisedin the dialogues could be resolved through any amount of rational discus-sion. The author’s solution to the unanswered questions of the dialogues is tobe found in the visions of the narrative of Ezra’s transformation in the fourth,fifth, and sixth episodes. The apocalyptic visions bring about Ezra’s conver-sion, or consolation in the ancient sense of the word, by enabling him to putout of his mind the problems that were troubling him in the dialogues. Theyshift Ezra’s focus from the human predicament, and in particular the current

4 Ibid., 37–38.5 Ibid., 39.


who is the ‘i’ of 4ezra? 121

predicament of Israel, to divine sovereignty over history (13:57–58). The “solu-tion” presented by the visions is not an intellectual solution to the problemsraised in the dialogues, but an illustration of the power of mythic symbolismto restore faith.6

This is the keystone of her thesis. But it rests on assumptions about thenature of apocalypticism that do not bear up under examination, andwhichinmyopinionobscure the truenature of the conflicting theologies in 4Ezra.7

1. National Eschatology vs. Personal Eschatology?

Hogan’s analysis of the eschatological foci of the theologies is sound. Thesymbolic visions present a nationally oriented eschatology, while Uriel inthe dialogues is more concerned with what might be called personal escha-tology. Open to question, however, is her argument that different eschato-logical foci indicate the presence of different theologies. One could bisectother early Jewish apocalypses with the same knife, including the Testa-ment ofMoses, 2Baruch, andDaniel (e.g., between the corporate eschatologyin the symbolic visions of chapters 7–8 and the expectation for individualpost-mortem judgment in chapter 12).8 Is a duality of eschatological foci nec-essarily indicative of conflicting theologies in these apocalypses? If so, arewe to presuppose, as Hogan suggests, the existence of a school of thoughtbehind each theology?Hogan’s thesis breaks down most perceptibly in her assumption that

apocalyptic theology is unconcerned with the final judgment and personaleschatology. She writes:

The [symbolic] visions represent a typically apocalyptic theology, in that theyemphasize that the Most High is in control of human history and will actsoon to bring an end to the suffering of his chosen people in this world.The type of salvation they envision is corporate and entirely dependent on thedivine initiative, whereas the fewwhowill be saved, according toUriel, will haveearned their reward by their own striving to live in accordance with the law.9

6 Ibid., 228–229.7 Matthias Henze’s careful review of Hogan’s book in the Journal of Religion 90 (2010):

65–66, raises additional questions.8 After the passage on post-mortem judgment and resurrection (12:1–4), Daniel asks the

angel the same questions that Ezra asks Uriel in the dialogues—how long until the end, howwill these events transpire? (12:6, 8).

9 Hogan, Theologies in Conflict, 160, italics added.



This is problematic. John J. Collins identifies the anticipation of the post-mortem judgment of individuals as the distinctive characteristic of apoca-lyptic eschatology.10 True, his view does not represent the communis opinio(no view does), and I very much doubt whether apocalyptic eschatologycan be distilled to a single hallmark feature.11 But the centrality of individ-ual post-mortem judgment is beyond argument. It is a corollary of the corepropositions of the apocalyptic worldview,12 and a feature of all its majorexpressions. Uriel’s theology, with its focus on the final judgment and thefate of individuals, is “apocalyptic.”The thrust of thematter is that any distinction between national and per-

sonal eschatology is not really meaningful. A survey of the literature revealsthat the vast majority of ancient and mediaeval apocalyptic writings (thenumber runs into the hundreds) exhibit an eschatology that is both per-sonal and national. They nearly always contain both the expectation for apost-mortem judgment of individuals and some form of corporate salva-tion. Collins rightly states that the hope for the end-time deliverance of thenation may be distinct from, yet not opposed to, a concern for personal sal-vation.13 I would go farther. The distinction between national and personaleschatology is as devoid of heuristic value as it is of evidentiary supportin the literature. It merely differentiates the two natural avenues by whichthe apocalyptic worldview anticipates salvation and justice, i.e., for the

10 John J. Collins, “Prophecy, Apocalypse and Eschatology: Reflections on the Proposalsof Lester Grabbe,” in Knowing the End from the Beginning: The Prophetic, the Apocalyptic andTheir Relationships (ed. Lester L. Grabbe and Robert D. Haak; JSPSup 46; London: T&T Clark,2003), 44–52 (51–52). In an earlier study, “Apocalyptic Eschatology as the Transcendence ofDeath” (CBQ 36 [1974]: 21–43), Collins argues that the distinguishing element is the hope forthe transcendence of death. See the next note.

11 In the classic apocalyptic literature, the hope for the transcendence of death is envi-sioned as the post-mortem judgment of individuals. It carries with it expectations of justice,salvation, retribution, and vindication. Other worldviews, however, express the same hopebut conceive of it in different ways and espouse it for different reasons. One example is Bud-dhist eschatology, insofar as the conceptionof “last things” inBuddhismhas anymeaning. SeeJanNattier, “Buddhist Eschatology,” in TheOxfordHandbook of Eschatology (ed. Jerry L.Walls;Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 151–169, esp. 151. The point is that while the hope forthe transcendence of death is often equated with the expectation for the post-mortem judg-ment of individuals, they are not the same thing.

12 See further, Lorenzo DiTommaso, “Apocalypticism and Popular Culture,” forthcomingin The Oxford Handbook of Apocalyptic Literature (ed. John J. Collins; New York/Oxford:Oxford University Press).

13 John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Hermeneia; Minneapolis:Fortress, 1993), 386, on Dan 11:35 and the Testament of Moses 9.



individual and for his/her group.Whether a text inclinesmore to one avenueor the other depends solely on the purposes for which it was composed.

2. Apocalyptic Determinism vs. Free Will?

ForHogan, the divine control of history and its predetermined tenor are typ-ical of the theology of the symbolic visions, and stand in contrast to personalchoice and free will, which in the dialogues inform Uriel’s concern withjudgment and “the few who will be saved.” But is not the final judgment in4Ezra also part of the divine design for history?Anddoes not this design alsounderwrite Uriel’s statements on the predetermination of all things (6:1–6)and the signs of the end (5:1–13, etc.)? Apocalyptic determinism is not theantithesis of the free will with which Uriel is concerned, as Hogan assumes.Rather, they co-exist. The divine plan operates on a broad scale. It regulatesthe timetable of historic events, and typically focuses on the preordainedfate of groups of people. Free will operates on the level of individuals. Itmanifests itself as the decision to persevere in the good or persist in evil,with the hope of imminent personal salvation on the eschatological hori-zon. Of course, apocalypticism cannot accommodate true free will: as withancient apocalyptic literature in general, 4Ezra assumes that humans areable to make certain kinds of choices that affect their future salvation, butonly within the compass of God’s plan for Israel. The central issue is notthe choice between determinism and free will, either one or the other, butthe degree of free will that is possible within a deterministic system.14Whatmakes 4Ezra unique among apocalypses is the depth and sophistication ofits reflectionon the relationshipbetween thedivineplanandhumanchoice,and what it entails for everyday life. The primary purpose of the revelatorydialogues is to facilitate this reflection, which they accomplish by means ofEzra’s relentless interrogation of Uriel.We will return to this subject later in this paper. It is enough to say

now that the features of ‘apocalyptic theology’—the divine control of his-tory and its predetermined tenor, which, as Hogan argues, define the sym-bolic visions—are consistent with the ‘wisdom theology’ of Uriel. On thisbasis it is difficult not to conclude that the worldview of the angel and the

14 Lorenzo DiTommaso, “The Apocalyptic Other,” The “Other” in Second Temple Judaism:Essays in Honor of John J. Collins (ed. Daniel C. Harlow, et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011),221–246 (238–240).



worldview of the visions are identical. We seem to encounter this admis-sion from Hogan herself, in an assessment that appears late in her book:“The eschatology of the visions does not actually contradict the eschatolog-ical scenario presented by Uriel in the dialogues.… Nevertheless the topicselaborated in the visions … all add up to a much more nationalistic, this-worldly eschatology than that presented by Uriel in the dialogues.”15 This isan accurate statement.

3. Apocalyptic Irrationality vs. Wisdom Rationality?

For Hogan, apocalyptic theology operates through the “power of mythicsymbolism,” the “imagery that appeals to the imagination,” and emotion.16These elements distinguish the symbolic visions from the innate rationalityof the wisdom theologies of both Uriel and Ezra, and permit the visions toaddress the crisis of faith afflicting the audience of 4Ezra. The assumptionshere are that i) apocalypticism is an irrational worldview and draws itspotency from emotional elements outside the realm of intellection, and ii)the sort of consolation that the historical situation requires cannot derivefrom reason and logic. There is much truth to the first assumption, asI have detailed in an essay elsewhere.17 One cannot ignore the visceraldimension of apocalypticism. Its appeal to passions both lofty and base hassustained its vitality for twenty-three centuries, and in theprocess generateda remarkable array of artistic, literary, and social expressions. It is impossibleto appreciate such expressions by means of the intellect alone. Nor can thevocabulary of logic or the syntax of reason fully convey the power of hopeand salvation that the New Jerusalem in the Revelation of John carries forthe faithful, or the bile of hatred and revenge that the Apocalypse of Peterchannels for the persecuted and oppressed.Yet apocalypticism is ultimately a rationalworldview. It succeeds because

it offers a comprehensive, comprehensible, and internally consistent wayof ordering history and the cosmos. It is a way of coming to terms withone’s view of reality, of getting a grip on existence, both personally andas it translates to group contexts (hence the two eschatological foci, indi-vidual and national/corporate). That this process is affected by emotion is

15 Hogan, Theologies in Conflict, 190.16 Ibid., 38 and 229.17 Above, n. 15.



beyonddispute. But the logic of theworldviewmarshals these emotions andgives them conceptual direction and intellectual sustenance. The vision ofa better future cannot take form, or the thirst for vengeance and retribu-tion be slaked, unless they are grounded in a worldview which convinc-ingly explains how these things will come to pass. Emotion provides thespark, logic supplies the fuel. Despite the cataclysms, calamities, and catas-trophes of apocalyptic art and literature, the God of apocalypticism is oneof order, not chaos. To hold otherwise ignores the deep structural rational-ity of theworldview and permits Hogan, wrongly inmy view, to differentiateUriel’s reasoned responses to Ezra from the “mythic symbolism”18 of the latervisions of the book.As for “mythic symbolism” in apocalyptic literature, it is high time to put

this myth aside. It usually appears in the form of two mutually reinforc-ing truisms. The first is embodied in the declaration that “history is whatcharacterizes prophetic eschatology and myth is what typifies apocalyp-tic eschatology.”19 The second is that apocalypticism is the “recrudescence”of myth during the period of the second temple.20 Neither is supported byfact. As many scholars have observed, the early Jewish apocalypses madegood use of the rich mythological tradition of the ancient Near East, whichincluded the old Israelite literature. But apocalypticism is hardly indifferentto history; in fact, it is intimately concerned with its nature and purpose.21Nor does the emergence of full-blown apocalypticism in the second cen-tury bce imply the reappearance of an old mythological strand of Israelitereligion that overlapped the ‘rational,’ ‘priestly,’ or ‘legitimate’ cult. Such aview is based on an overly simplistic portrait of Judaism during the Persianand Hellenistic eras, including the presumption that Second Temple apoc-alypticism is the parthenogenetic offspring of late Israelite prophecy.How, then, does one explain the use of mythic symbolism in the ancient

apocalyptic writings without resorting to a facile contrast between mythand history? On one level, such symbolism is an effective short-hand. The

18 Hogan, Theologies in Conflict, 229.19 Job Y. Jindo, “On Myth and History in Prophetic and Apocalyptic Eschatology,” VT 55

(2005), 412–415 at 413.20 FrankM. Cross, CanaaniteMyth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History of the Religion of

Israel (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997 [orig. 1973]), 135–137 and elsewhere,andWilliam R. Millar, Isaiah 24–27 and the Origin of Apocalyptic (HSM 11; Missoula: ScholarsPress, 1976).

21 See my reply in “History and Apocalyptic Eschatology: A Reply to J.Y. Jindo,” VT 56(2006): 413–418, and the sources cited therein.



multiple heads and wings of the imperial eagle of the vision in 4Ezra 11–12represent a sequence of Roman emperors and other figures. The image isevocative and unforgettable: it takes the universal symbol for Rome, theeagle, and accords it a trans-historical value with the addition of extraheads and wings. On another level, though, such symbols indicate the pointbeyond which human understanding is able to proceed. One corollary ofthe propositions of the apocalyptic worldview is that, as creatures of themundane world, humans are unable to perceive the transcendent realityclearly or to grasp its purposes completely. Daniel, Ezra, and the otherseers literally do not fathom what they have been shown. Their visionsmust be interpreted or otherwise mediated, and even then the data remainonly partially comprehensible (though clear enough to communicate theauthor’s message and fulfil the functions of the text). The divide is notone between reason/intellection and emotion/imagination, but betweenheaven and earth, and is epistemological in nature. Whether it is conveyedin the form of the hybrid beasts seen by Daniel or Ezra in their visionsfrom heaven, or as the digital geometries that populate the cyberspacematrix in William Gibson’s novel Neuromancer,22 the unintelligibility of thetranscendent world is essential to apocalyptic epistemology. It is essentialalso to appreciating the real nature of the revelatory dialogues between Ezraand Uriel, and their role in the function of 4Ezra.

4. Uriel the Unreliable?

If the resolution to the crisis of faith is found in the apocalyptic theologywhich Hogan argues is located uniquely in the symbolic visions, it followsthat Uriel’s “wisdom theology” is unable to provide this solution. This wouldmake Uriel an unreliable figure, and imply that his answers to Ezra’s ques-tions are worthless. But is such a thing likely? It is remotely possible, onthe evidence of two rabbinic texts, that Uriel acquired a negative dimen-sion in post-biblical Judaism.23 But as one of the four (or seven) archangels,Uriel is a positive character in all the ancient sources, an authoritative figure.More importantly, Uriel’s authority is required by Hogan’s own thesis. Urielinforms Ezra about the granumseminismali sown inAdam’s heart (4:30–31),as well as the divine plan for history (5:1–12; 6:13–28; 7:26–44). Are we to

22 DiTommaso, “Apocalypticism and Popular Culture.”23 See the discussion in Stone, Fourth Ezra, 82–83.



suppose that Uriel discloses essential truths about the origin of the evil seedand God’s plan for creation, yet embeds them in a theology that is unableto solve a crisis for which these very truths provide critical insight? Is itexplanation enough to state, asHogandoes, thatUriel, unlike theMostHigh,is not omniscient?24Such queries frame the central problem. In differentiating the theology

of Uriel from the theology of the symbolic visions, Hogan assumes that theauthor of 4Ezra imagined heaven to be in conflict with one of its angels. Thisis a very curious proposition. It is far more probable that the author pre-sumed that the revelations disclosed in the dialogues by Uriel, a representa-tive of the transcendent reality (Heaven), emanated from the same sourceas the revelations of the symbolic visions.25 This architecture is axiomatic toapocalypticism: there is no room in it for more than two realities, the mun-dane and the transcendent, and I cannot think of a single example to thecontrary in the corpus of ancient apocalyptic literature.26As such, theworld-view of Uriel the angel and the worldview that informs the theology of thesymbolic visions must be identical.27

5. The Form and Function of Fourth Ezra

The recognition that the worldview of Uriel and that of the visions are iden-tical reveals the true nature of the theological conflict in 4Ezra. The bookresolves a tension between two worldviews, not three. The first worldview,the Deuteronomic, is what Ezra espouses in his interrogatory dialogue withUriel. It stresses the importance of maintaining the covenant, its operatingprinciple being the conviction that the choices one makes in the present

24 Theologies in Conflict, 107, citing Uriel’s claim that he knows the signs of the end of theworld but not whether it will occur in Ezra’s lifetime (4:52). But of course Uriel cannot speakto the latter; whether the answer is yea or nay, it would undermine the function of the book.

25 This is the same logic behind Jesus’s reply to those who claimed he cast out demonsby the power of Beelzebul, the ruler of demons (Mk 3:22–27 par.): a house cannot be dividedagainst itself.

26 Even apocalyptic writings which describe or assume baroque cosmologies that includea demiurge locate this figure outside the transcendent reality.

27 In his review of Hogan’s book (above, n. 8), Henze observes that “4QInstruction andUriel’s voice in 4Ezra strike me as rather different from one another in genre and worldview.By comparison, Uriel’s eschatological wisdom has much more in common with the escha-tology of the apocalyptic visions in 4Ezra.” I would question the first sentence, but entirelyagree with the second.



will affect one’s future state of being. These propositions imply a certaintheology of history, which in the world of ancient Judaism translates intoan understanding of God’s historical relationship with humanity and Israelin particular. The second worldview, the apocalyptic, underwrites Uriel’sreplies to Ezra and the revelations of the visions. It, too, freights a theologyof history, but one that is quite different from the Deuteronomic model.The contrast between the two worldviews and their theologies of historyis played out in the revelatory dialogues of the book.In his first dialogue with Uriel (3:1–5:19), Ezra asks why God did not

remove the evil heart when he gave Israel the Law (3:20), thereby ensuringthat the Law could not bring about Israel’s righteousness. Ezra also enquireswhy Israel must suffer even though it has obeyed God’s commandments,whilewicked Babylon has gone unpunished (3.28–36). Uriel’s answer, whichis conveyed partly in the form of a parable, unexpectedly turns the questionback on Ezra, and in so doing challenges his view of history, justice, andtheodicy. On what basis, the angel asks, can humans know the ways andmeans of God (4:5–25)? Uriel’s summary statement on the matter encap-sulates the fundamental binarism of apocalyptic epistemology that wasreferred to above: “Those who inhabit the earth can understand only whatis of the earth, and he who is above the heavens can understand what isabove the height of the heavens” (4:20).28 As for judgment, Uriel replies thatthe time of the harvest and the threshing of the righteous and unrighteous(4:28–30) is not a matter of tomorrow, or the tomorrow after that, but of thefinal tomorrow, whose time-table is as fixed as that of the nine-month clockof a pregnant woman (4:40).Ezra continues his enquiry in the second dialogue (5:20–6:34). If God

chose Israel, why has he treated it worse than the nations, and left its pun-ishment to them? (5:28–29) Uriel again responds that humans cannot com-prehend God’s purpose; this is beyond their ability (5:36–40). Ezra persists:God’s purpose may indeed be a mystery, but his promise of an imminentend is clear. What, then, about those who have already died (5:41), and whydid God not create everyone at the same time, in order to demonstrate hisjudgment sooner? (5:43) Here the angel’s answer encapsulates the apoca-lyptic conception of history: to God in heaven, time is not the same as it isto humans on earth (5:42–56 passim).

28 Et qui super terram inhabitant quae sunt super terram intellegere solummodo possunt, etqui super caelos super altitudinem caelorum. On the text of this verse, see Stone, 4Ezra, 87–88.



The third dialogue (6:35–9:25) is structured by a long series of questions,answers, and discourses about the fate of theworld and its inhabitants.Whydo the nations rule over Israel, Ezra asks, and when will Israel be granted itspromise? What is the point of this cruel life, when we know that judgmentstands at the end, with punishment for all but a few? Can the righteousintercede on behalf of the wicked? Uriel’s responses assure Ezra yet againthat God’s plan remains in effect, that it is motivated by logic and justiceand his love for Israel, and that it is coherent and comprehensive, even if itsrationale is not fully comprehensible to humans. The vision endswith Ezra’sthree appeals for God’s mercy, but the angel is adamant: an end to sufferingis near, but salvation is only for a few.Uriel’s answers to Ezra’s questions derive from the application of the

propositions of the apocalypticworldview. It isworth outlining these propo-sitions.29 Apocalypticism presumes the existence of a transcendent realitythat defines the cosmos and everything in it, yet remains almost entirelyconcealed fromobservation andbeyond the grasp of humanunderstanding.It presumes also that the present reality is constitutionally structuredby twoantagonistic and irreducible forces, which are typically identified with goodand evil. It maintains that a final resolution of the conflict between theseforces is necessary and imminent, and that this resolution is redemptive,in the sense of deliverance from the present reality. The revelation of thesemysteries orients existence, and gives life meaning and purpose. Together,these propositions describe an apocalypticminimum, which distinguish theapocalypticworldview fromprophecy,mysticism, divination, aswell as fromother worldviews, such as the Deuteronomistic.Apocalypticism is thus a comprehensive cognitive orientation, with a

distinctive epistemology and understanding of history, which explains time,space, and the human condition. If Uriel’s perspective is apocalyptic, as Icontend, then 4Ezra is a sustained defense of the apocalyptic worldviewas a system of knowledge and a theory of justice. Specifically, it arguesthat the apocalyptic theology of history is the only appropriate reply to thetheological and historical crisis that has occasioned the author to composeit. This is the argument that Ezra must come to accept, and the platformupon which the symbolic visions of the second half of the book are based.

4Ezra gradually harmonizes Ezra’s perspective with Uriel’s, which occursover the revelatory dialogues. They reflect an emotionally painful and exis-tentially unsettling process whereby the author of the book gradually came

29 DiTommaso, “Apocalypticism and Popular Culture.”



to accept the apocalyptic answer to the crisis generated by the situation.This process is fundamentally dynamic. Ezra and Uriel do not representdiscordant aspects of the author’s personality, nor is 4Ezra the literarydocumentation of a clash between wisdom and apocalypticism (as Hoganargues), or between scepticism and belief or reality and faith.30 Instead,4Ezra documents a personal conversion, from the Deuteronomic world-view to the apocalyptic. Hogan also uses the term conversion, but in itsancient sense of “consolation.”31 I prefer the modern, social-scientific sense,which has its roots in the work of William James but acknowledges therecent research on new religious movements.32 This research indicates thatconversion is neither a sudden nor a discrete event, but nearly always aprotracted and often discontinuous process that involves a combination ofreason, emotion, experience, and retrospection, even if it typically climaxesin a powerful “conversion event,” such as Saul experienced on the road toDamascus. Ezra’s conversion is a classic example. His dialogues with Urielprepare him for the mourning woman’s transfiguration into the heavenlyJerusalem, his response to which marks the culmination of the conversionprocess, and thereafter situates Ezra on the proper epistemological footingthat is necessary to understand the information disclosed by the symbolicvisions.Thus the ‘I’ of 4Ezra is both Ezra andUriel. Each figure records a different

stage in the author’s response to the crisis of faith which afflicted him andhis audience, a few decades after the Roman conquest of Jerusalem anddestruction of its temple. It grew out of an apparent contradiction between,on the one hand, the belief in a good and just God with an unbroken recordof love for Israel as his chosen people, and, on the other hand, the fact ofIsrael’s subjugation toRome. The figure of Ezra reflects the author as he oncewas, perplexed and unsure about the relationship among past prophecy,present circumstance, and future expectations. The old ways of thinkingabout God, history, and the future of Israel no longer provide satisfactoryanswers. The figure of Uriel reflects the author as he composes 4Ezra,33

30 So Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra.” It also is incorrect to contrast Ezra’s “existential”questionswith Uriel’s “theoretical” answers, as Harnisch asserts (Verhängnis undVerheissungder Geschichte, 38–39 and passim).

31 Hogan, Theologies in Conflict, 161.32 For an overview of studies on conversion as a religious phenomenon, see Lorne L. Daw-

son,ComprehendingCults: The Sociology ofNewReligiousMovements (2nd ed.; Oxford:OxfordUniversity Press, 2006), 95–124, esp. 117–119.

33 I subscribe to the assessment that 4Ezra is a unified composition. Although it draws



having already worked out the solution himself. Discrepancies between theEzra’s and Uriel’s positions are milestones, marking the conversion processas the author had experienced it: Ezra’s questions had once been his ques-tions; Ezra’s doubts his own.34Thesediscrepancies alsounderscore the innatehuman inability tounder-

stand the way of the Most High (3:31, 4:2, etc.). This is a central message ofthe book, an underlying principle behind Uriel’s seemingly enigmatic andevasive answers to Ezra’s questions, and, as noted, a corollary of the proposi-tions of theworldview. The angel’s responses assert that traditionalDeutero-nomic notions of mercy, intercession, and covenant have been superseded,however alien to Ezra this new truth might initially appear. To offer oneexample among many: Ezra enquires about the efficacy of intercession—a key component of the old theology of history but incompatible with thestrictures of apocalyptic determinism—to which Uriel replies in the nega-tive (7:102–115; cf. Rom 7:1–6). Commenting on this passage, Stone writes,“The angel replies: intercession has been necessary in this world, for glorydoes not remain in it continually, but it will be different at the end of thisworld or age.”35 In abstract terms, Uriel is asserting the veritable reality ofthe transcendent world over the subordinate and transitory nature of mun-dane existence. Seen in this light, the dialogues are essential to Ezra’s con-version. Apocalypticism is a rational worldview, so I contend. Ezra’s ques-tions test its propositions and claims from every angle, seeking its weaknessthrough logic and intellection.Uriel’s patient and consistent response is thatGod’s plan for Israel, while largely unknowable, is ultimately favourable.This addresses Ezra’s questions of justice and salvation and the issue oftheodicy, and logically grounds the book’s central claim.The dialogues set the table for Ezra’s conversion event, which occurs in

the great fourth vision of the book. In it, Ezra sees awomanwho ismourningthe death of her son, and in her grief has decided to fast until she alsodies. Ezra is furious: How can she mourn one person, he asks her, when the

on older material (Stone, Fourth Ezra, 311, citing Gunkel and Oesterley) and draws meaningfrom the rich heritage of the apocalyptic literature of early Judaism, 4Ezra is the product ofan individual creativity that is manifested integrally in the form and function of the book. Cf.Earl Breech, “These Fragments I Have Shored against My Ruins: The Form and Function of4Ezra,” JBL 92 (1973): 267–274.

34 See, above all, several studies by Stone, including Fourth Ezra and especially “A Recon-sideration of Apocalyptic Visions,” HTR 96 (2003): 167–180.

35 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 251.



temple has been destroyed, Zion ravaged, and its people killed or enslaved?Ezra urges the woman to control her despair, confident that God’s justicewill ultimately be revealed and assures her that she will very shortly seeher son again. At this point, the woman’s face begins to shine, and she istransfigured to a glorious city. Ezra loses consciousness and is revived byUriel, who interprets the vision.He tells Ezra that thewoman is Zion andherstory is thehistory of Israel,whichwill soon culminatewith the advent of thenew, heavenly Jerusalem.Withhis response to thewoman, Ezra’s conversionis complete. He has internalized the shift in perspective brought about by hisdialogues with Uriel, to the point that he himself articulates the angel’s logic inhis advice to the mourning woman. Thereafter Ezra accepts the apocalyptictheology of history without debate, and the symbolic visions that followrepresent the answers to his earlier questions about salvation, justice, andthe future—not only for him, but for the audience also.This is crucial. 4Ezra is not merely the record of oneman’s conversion, or

what Stone poetically (and correctly) calls the “Odyssey of Ezra’s soul.”36 Thefirst function of the book is to impart to its audience the author’s new insightabout God’s saving activity in history. 4Ezra aims to console its intendedreaders in view of their catastrophic loss by assuring them that salvationis imminent, justice remains operative, and existence still has a purpose.But these messages can only be received and accepted if the audiencefollows Ezra in accepting Uriel’s perspective, i.e., the apocalyptic worldview.The figure of Ezra personifies both the nation of Israel and each memberindividually. Just as Ezra’s conversion reflects the personal transformationof the author of 4Ezra, so too does it guide the book’s intended readersthrough their own process of conversion. Just as the book answers Ezra’squestions about salvation and justice on national and personal levels, sotoo does it answer the audience’s questions. Just as Ezra is furious at themourning woman’s despair and lack of faith in God’s plan for Israel, so toois the audience expected to be outraged, vicariously participating in Ezra’sconversion event and having been rationally and emotionally prepared forit by the revelatory dialogues. This is the true genius of 4Ezra, the fullestexpression of its probative dimension, and the antecedent to its catharticpurpose. Narrative, author, and audience are seamlessly woven together bythe book’s form and function:

36 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 32, and Stone “Reconsideration.”



Crisis → → Resolution

Worldview Deuteronomic ApocalypticNotion of history broadly undetermined broadly predeterminedReality mundane transcendentRepresentative figure Ezra UrielAuthor the author before the author nowAudience the audience now the audience in the future

Theprobative dimensionof 4Ezra is extraordinarily rare in apocalyptic liter-ature, which typically states its claims through visions and other revelatorymediawithout explanation or justification. The dialogues betweenEzra andUriel, in contrast, are vehicles by which its author argues his case, whichis guaranteed by heaven through the figure of the angel. In the exchangebetween the representatives of heavenandearth, the audience ismadeprivyto the rationale behind the argument for the apocalyptic theology of his-tory. If Ezra persists in his queries or is dissatisfied with Uriel’s answers, it isbecause the author wishes that his readers undertake the same existentialjourney as he once did. They too must test the apocalyptic theology of his-tory against tradition and logic. They toomust fully come to appreciatewhatits claims entail, however dissatisfying or disagreeable they might initiallyappear. For these reasons and more, 4Ezra is the most sophisticated of theapocalypses and represents the intellectual zenith of apocalyptic literature.

Who Is the "I" of 4 Ezra?

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