That this is the only account in the Hebrew Bible of a heavenly ascent seems significant in light of what happened in the late- and post-biblical period. Suddenly, anonymous writers began to imagine all sorts of other heavenly voyagers.10 For the most part, they chose figures known from the Bible itself who, for one reason or another, might be likely candidates for such a heavenly ascent—such as the antediluvian Enoch. The book of Genesis had related his death in somewhat ambiguous terms:
And Enoch lived sixty-five years and he became the father of Methuselah. And Enoch walked with God after he became the father of Methuselah for three hundred years; and he fathered sons and daughters. And all the days of Enoch were three hundred and sixty-five years. And Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God had taken him. (Gen 5:21–24)
Enoch must have been a particularly righteous fellow if the passage mentions that he “walked with God,” not once but twice. (The same phrase was used only once for the righteous Noah, Gen 6:9.) But why, among all the other ancestors mentioned in the genealogical list of this chapter, was Enoch the only one of whom it is not said, “and he died”? Ancient interpreters came to believe that Enoch didn’t die. If the text said that God had “taken him,” this may not have been a euphemism for death; it may have meant that God took him up bodily into heaven while Enoch was still alive, and that he continued to live a blessed existence up there ever after, on that sky-blue upper shelf.
A number of distinct compositions of the Second Temple period thus matter-of-factly relate that Enoch traveled to heaven:
[Enoch says:] And the vision appeared to me as follows: the winds caused me to fly and hastened me and lifted me into heaven. (1 En 14:8; also 4Q204 col 6:21)
Few on earth were created like Enoch, and he was likewise taken within. (Sir 49:14)*
He [Enoch] lived three hundred and sixty-five years and then returned to divinity, which is why nothing is recorded of his death. (Josephus, Ant. 1:85; cf. 9:28)
By faith was Enoch taken up so that he should not see death; and [this is what is meant by] “he was not found because God had taken him.” (Heb 11:5)
The first mention of Enoch’s heavenly ascent cited above comes from the “Book of the Watchers” section of 1 Enoch, currently chapters 14–16 of 1 Enoch. A more detailed version of his ascent is found in the “Similitudes” section of that same work (first century CE), chapters 37–71. Another, quite separate, Enoch pseudepigraphon, 2 Enoch (or Slavonic Apocalypse) from the first century CE contains a far more extensive tour of heaven, in which Enoch learns not only secrets of the heavens themselves, but how the wicked are punished for their sins, the location of paradise, and the answer to various questions arising out of Scripture.
Jacob’s son Levi was another biblical figure who was retroactively promoted to heavenly traveler by an anonymous, Second Temple–period author.11 In the section devoted to Levi in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, Levi reports:
And I was grieved for the race of the sons of men . . . and I prayed to the Lord to be saved. Then sleep fell upon me, and I saw a high mountain, and I was on it.12 And behold, the skies were opened and an angel of the Lord said to me: “Levi, enter.” And I entered the first heaven I saw there a great [body of] water, suspended. And I saw a second heaven and more luminous and brighter, and the height of it was boundless. And I said to the angel: “Why is this so?” And the angel said to me: “Do not marvel over this, for you will see another heaven, brighter still and beyond compare, when you get there. You will stand close to the Lord, and you will be His servant, and you will announce His secrets to men . . . And your livelihood will be from the Lord’s portion, and He shall be your field, vineyard, fruits, silver, gold.” (T. Levi 2:4–12)
The angel is apparently referring to the future selection of Levi’s descendants to serve in the temple of Jerusalem. Notice, however, that this text is also interested in revealing what it’s like up in heaven. There are apparently three heavens, or rather, three layers of heaven, as the angel goes on to explain:
Hear, then, is [what I have to say] about the heavens that have been shown to you. The lowest one is, by that very fact, gloomy-looking to you, since [as the lowest] it looks out on all the sins of men; and it has fire, snow, ice, ready for the day of the judgment in God’s righteous meting out of justice, for in it are all the Spirits of [various] afflictions [used] as punishments for the wicked.
And in the second [level of heaven] are the forces of the armies [of angels], which are arrayed for the Day of Judgment, to punish the Spirits of deceit and of Beliar.
And in the highest heaven resides the Great Glory, in the holy of holies, far above all [other] holiness. In it [i.e., the highest heaven], next [in rank] to Him, are the angels of the Lord’s Presence, who serve and make atonement before the Lord for all the unwitting sins of the righteous, offering to the Lord a sweet savor, a reasonable and bloodless sacrifice.
And in the lower heavens are the angels who carry the answers [better: repentances] to the angels of the Lord’s Presence. And in the one next to these are thrones and dominions, by whom praises are always [i.e., continually] offered to God. And when the Lord looks out on us, we all tremble—indeed, the heavens and the earth and the abysses [themselves] tremble at the presence of His majesty. But humans do not perceive these things and [so] sin and provoke the Most High. (T. Levi 3:1–3:10)
The Temple in the Sky
While the apparent purpose of this visionary trip to heaven (from which Levi returns to earth alive) is to validate his descendants’ appointment to serve in Israel’s earthly temple, it is significant that his angelic guide takes the time to explain heaven to him as well. God was not just “up there,” somewhere; this text, along with other Second Temple writings, has a definite picture of what goes on there. God presides over a temple in heaven.13 He sits enthroned and surrounded by angels; these are frequently depicted as fiery angels (in part because of a certain reference in Ps 104:4); indeed, the whole scene is often alive with bright flames.14 By common accord, heaven consisted of different levels. The above passage seems to maintain that there are three such levels, corresponding to the three ranks of angels assigned to each. But other texts maintain that there were actually seven levels (perhaps corresponding to the seven planets, as well as to the sanctity of the number 7)—whence our expression “seventh heaven,” meaning heaven’s highest level.
These same themes were taken up by other heavenly travelers. Here is Abraham in the Apocalypse of Abraham (possibly composed in the first or second century CE):
And it came to pass that when the sun was setting, and behold, a smoke like that of a furnace, and the angels who had the divided parts of the sacrifice ascended from the top of the furnace of smoke. And the angel took me with his right hand . . . And we ascended like great winds to the heaven that was fixed on the expanses. And I saw on the sky, on the height we had ascended, a strong light that cannot be described. And behold, in this light a fire was kindled [and there was] a crowd of many people in the likeness of men. They were all changing in appearance and likeness, running and being transformed and bowing and shouting in a language the words of which I did not know.
And I said to the angel, “Where, then, have you brought me now? For now I can no longer see, because I am weakened and my spirit is departing from me.” And he said to me, “Remain with me, do not fear! He whom you will see going before both of us in a great sound of holiness is the Eternal One who had loved you, whom himself you will not see . . .” (Apoc. Abr., 15:1–16:2)
The text goes on to describe a multilayered heaven (this time, there are seven layers—or perhaps eight) and the different sorts of angels who serve before God’s heavenly throne.
Baruch, Jeremiah’s scribe, was also promoted retroactively to heavenly traveler in another late Second Temple period text (3 Baruch). His heavenly ascent includes a vision of things mentioned in the Bible:
And again the angel of hosts said to me, “Come and I will show you greater mysteries.�
�� And I said, “I pray you, show me what those men are.” And he said to me, “These are the ones who built the tower of the war against God, and the Lord removed them.” And taking me, the angel of the Lord led me to a second heaven. And he showed me there a door similar to the first. And he said, “Let us enter through it.”
And we entered, flying about the distance of sixty days’ journey. And he showed me there also a plain, and it was full of men, and their appearance was like (that) of dogs, and their feet (like those) of deer. And I asked the angel, “I pray you, sir, tell me who these are.” And he said, “These are the ones who plotted to build the tower. These whom you see forced many men and women to make bricks. Among them one woman was making bricks in the time of her delivery; they did not permit her to be released, but while making bricks she gave birth. And she carried her child in her cloak and continued making bricks. And appearing to them, the Lord changed their languages by that time they had built the tower 463 cubits (high). And taking an auger, they attempted to pierce the heaven, saying, ‘Let us see whether the heaven is (made) of clay or copper or iron.’ Seeing these things, God did not permit them (to continue), but struck them with blindness and with confusion of tongues, and he made them be as you see . . .” (3 Bar 2:6–3:8)
Here again the heavenly traveler not only sees heaven but is also made privy to heaven’s secrets. This time, however, those secrets include additional information about things related in the Bible. The angel thus shows Baruch the full punishment God imposed on the builders of the tower of Babel, while also explaining the true nature of their crimes (not mentioned in Genesis). He goes on to explain what really happened in the Garden of Eden, and other biblical narratives.
This hardly exhausts the list of heavenly travelers,15 and it is noteworthy that the New Testament includes the heavenly ascent of Jesus (Luke 24:51; Acts 1:9) and of John of Patmos (starting in Rev 4:1), as well as Paul’s oblique account of his own ascent (2 Cor 11:30–12:7).
A World of Mystery
As mentioned earlier, heavenly ascents are found in numerous texts in ancient Near Eastern writings, as well as in those of Greco-Roman literature, including such compositions as the proem of Parmenides’s poem On Nature (late sixth or early fifth century BCE), the “Myth of Er” in Plato’s Republic (10.614–21), and Cicero’s Somnium Scipionis. Even within the Jewish and Christian orbit, the different accounts of ascents serve varied purposes.16 But the particularly striking element in most of the Jewish and Christian material is precisely their common assumption that just above the clouds is a mysterious world not normally accessible, but one that has been revealed to the heavenly traveler.17 “Up there,” the traveler can observe the movement of the stars and the geography of heaven, as well as—in some of the texts seen above—be informed about the orderliness of the universe and of biblical history, which, taking the long view, will ultimately reveal God’s utter control of reality.
This sort of revelation is quite different from those of earlier biblical texts. In the prophetic books, for example, God is generally represented as speaking to prophets here on earth—in fact, they usually seem to have no need to travel anywhere.18 Moreover, the messages that they receive are generally not about anything secret. God tells them what to say to someone else—to fellow Israelites, to kings and queens, or to foreign nations. Moreover, His messages generally relate to what is happening now or about to happen in the near future. But the heavenly travelers whom we have surveyed enter a world of secrets: the layout of heaven, the ways of divine justice, the secret meaning of biblical texts. If they speak of the future, it is usually the distant future. In all these senses, these various ascents to heaven seem to be the most vivid representation of how humans came to be “in search of God.” They expect and want to find Him up there since He is no longer down here, and they all end up having their wish granted, taking in a breathtaking vista of God’s own throne room on high, indeed, seeing God Himself.
Much of the same sort of information, minus the breathtaking vistas, is imparted in the various other Second Temple narratives, in which a figure from the Hebrew Bible meets up with an angel here on earth. The angel answers the same sort of difficult questions as were posed by the heavenly travelers, questions about God’s control of things on earth, divine justice, the future of Israel, the resurrection of the dead, and so forth. So in a sense, these angel interviews are the complement of the heavenly ascents—in this case, a denizen of heaven comes down to human beings to converse with them on earth. Here, for example, is part of the extended series of questions and answers between the angel Uriel and Ezra in 4 Ezra, an apocryphal book composed sometime in the last decades of the first century CE. After a brief review of biblical history, from the creation of Adam to the time of David and the building of the Jerusalem temple, Ezra asks God (via Uriel) how He could have allowed His temple in Jerusalem to fall into the hands of the Babylonians and be destroyed:
[Ezra says:] And so it was that You handed over Your city to Your enemies.
But then I thought: “Are the deeds of those who inhabit Babylon any better [than Israel’s]? Is that why it has gained dominion over Zion?” For when I came here [to Babylon], I saw ungodly deeds without number, and my soul has seen many sinners during these thirty years. And my heart failed me, because I saw how You have put up with those who sin, and [how You] have spared those who act wickedly. You have destroyed Your own people and protected Your enemies! And You have not shown to anyone how Your way may be comprehended. Are the deeds of Babylon better than those of Zion? Or has some other nation recognized You besides Israel?
Ezra’s angelic interlocutor Uriel doesn’t really have a good answer. All he can come up with is the usual, “You’re just a human being—what can you understand?” (see Job chapters 39–42). “Go weigh for me the weight of fire,” he says, “or measure for me a blast of wind, or call back for me a day that is past.” But Ezra is not giving up.
[Ezra replies:] I wasn’t asking about the ways above, but about those things that we experience every day. Why has Israel been given over to the Gentiles in disgrace? Why have the people whom You loved been given over to godless tribes, while the Torah of our ancestors has been made invalid and the written covenants no longer exist? We pass from this world like locusts, and our life is like a mist, and we are not worthy to obtain mercy. But what will He do for His own name, by which we are called? These are the things that I am asking about. (4 Ezra 4:23–25)
This back-and-forth goes on for pages, and the challenging questions are hardly unique to 4 Ezra. (Scholars have long noted the striking similarity between 4 Ezra and another pseudepigraphic text, 2 Baruch, from the same period.) And, as already noted, the same sorts of probing questions are asked by some of the heavenly travelers seen above. The reason is that underlying both the heavenly ascents and the angel interviews is (among other things) a basic unease with the “messiness of history,” a feeling that God may have abandoned His people. If this was the problem, then the solution must be somewhere “up there,” in the secrets of heaven that only a few privileged humans have been allowed to glimpse, or “down here,” where an angel has consented to answer the questions of a virtuous sage.
Yet it is also noteworthy that Ezra’s words cited above are not just, or even principally, concerned with the nation of Israel. Even in the above passage, his complaint about Israel’s fate strikes an oddly individualistic note: “We [present-day Israelites] pass from this world like locusts, and our life is like a mist, and we are not worthy to obtain mercy.” In a similar vein, Ezra elsewhere asks about the fate of individuals after their death. Will their souls, “after they have been separated from their bodies,” be judged entirely on their own merits, or as part of some larger collectivity?
[Ezra says:] If I have found favor in your eyes, show further to me, your servant, whether on the day of judgment the righteous will be able to intercede for the ungodly or entreat the Most High for them—fathers for sons or sons for fathers, brothers for brothers
, relatives for kinsmen or friends for friends. (4 Ezra 7:102)
In other words, can a particular individual who has not led a particularly virtuous life be saved by the intervention of his super-righteous friends or family members? The angel’s answer is a definite no: “Everyone shall bear his own righteousness or unrighteousness.” Later, the angel elaborates:
The Most High made this world for the sake of many, but the world to come for the sake of few . . . Just as, if you were to ask the earth, it would tell you that it provides very much clay, from which earthenware is made, but only a little dust from which gold comes; so in the course of the present world many have been created, but few shall be saved [for the next world]. (4 Ezra 8:1–3)
As one scholar recently observed, “The emphasis is not on nations, but on individuals.”19 If so, then here is another bit of evidence of a broader shift toward the individual in early post-biblical times.
The Song of Songs
The Great Shift Page 37
