by
Damien F. Mackey
Andrew E. Hill had, in the course of his terrific commentary,
“A Jonadab Connection in the Absalom Conspiracy?”,
expressed a certain frustration due to what he called
“the almost annoying paucity of material
for careful analysis” regarding Jonadab.
Introduction
Both of the two instances of biblical stories seeming to fall short due to the apparent lack of follow-up material, to be considered here (there are plenty of others), involve TAMAR, the beautiful virginal sister of Absalom, son of David (2 Samuel 13:1-2).
Just when the story surrounding Jonadab, Absalom, Amnon and Tamar (2 Samuel 13:1-39), has begun to get really fascinating, Jonadab, qua Jonadab, disappears abruptly from the scene after making some Machiavellian comments to King David (vv. 32-33, 35) - these suggesting that Jonadab was more of an insider in Absalom’s plot than first thought.
And, secondly, in the same story, we take leave of Tamar in a very miserable state, shattered for having been raped by Amnon (v. 20): “And Tamar lived in her brother Absalom’s house, a desolate woman”.
Of course, we would love to know more.
And critics like Andrew E. Hill can express their frustration for not knowing more. His brilliant unfolding of the machinations of the shrewd Jonadab must come to an early halt due to the Bible’s failure to continue with the history of Jonadab, qua Jonadab, of whom he writes there is “the almost annoying paucity of material for careful analysis”.
We can feel with Andrew Hill, after he has done so clever a job of analysing the character of this Jonadab.
And female commentators in particular, full of sympathy for Tamar and her plight, would dearly love to know what became of her.
Did her later life take a turn for the better?
Thankfully, the Bible is more accommodating in this regard than one might have imagined. For, as we shall find, the history of Jonadab is carried through, further on in 2 Samuel, right to its bitter end. And, indeed, it is a bitter end.
And we also come to learn much about the incredible life story of Tamar after her horrible years of confinement in the house of Absalom.
The fact is that the drama of, now Jonadab, now Tamar, as known from 2 Samuel, is taken up and continued in the same book, or in Kings and Chronicles, in which the two protagonists are re-presented under different names.
A. Jonadab (Part One)
Previously I wrote on this crafty character, basing myself on Andrew E. Hill:
Enter Jonadab (vv. 3-4): “Now Amnon had an adviser named Jonadab son of Shimeah, David’s brother. Jonadab was a very shrewd man. He asked Amnon, ‘Why do you, the king’s son, look so haggard morning after morning? Won’t you tell me?’
Amnon said to him, ‘I’m in love with Tamar, my brother Absalom’s sister’.”
There is so much to know about this Jonadab.
Some translations present him as Amnon’s “friend”, but “adviser” (as above) will turn out to be by far the more suitable rendering of the Hebrew rēa‘ (רֵעַ).
For, no “friend” of Amnon’s was Jonadab!
Commenting on this Hebrew word, Andrew E. Hill (assistant prof. of OT at Wheaton College, Illinois) writes (http://www.etsjets.org/files/JETS-PDFs/30/30-4/30-4-pp387-390-JETS.pdf):
“Jonadab is an acknowledged “friend” (réa’) of Amnon …. While it is possible that he was a close personal friend of Amnon since he was a cousin, it seems more likely that the word here connotes a special office or association with the royal family (especially in light of his role as a counselor in David’s cabinet; cf. 13:32-35).
During Solomon’s reign, Zabud … has the title of priest and “king’s friend” (ré‘eh hammelek, 1 Kgs 4:5). It may well be that with Jonadab (and others?) this cabinet post has its rudimentary beginnings in the Davidic monarchy”.
Another key Hebrew word used to describe Jonadab is ḥākām (חָכָם), variously understood as meaning “wise”, or just “crafty” or “shrewd”.
Before we consider further this important word, we need to know what was the criminal advice that Jonadab had given to the king’s lovesick oldest son, Amnon. It was this (2 Samuel 13:5): “‘Go to bed and pretend to be ill’, Jonadab said. ‘When your father comes to see you, say to him, ‘I would like my sister Tamar to come and give me something to eat. Let her prepare the food in my sight so I may watch her and then eat it from her hand’.’”
Clear and unequivocal advice from a man described as ḥākām, but also coldly calculated advice with deep undertones and ramifications of which the manipulative Jonadab was fully aware.
Andrew E. Hill, again, offers this explanation of the adjective ḥākām:
“Even more significant, Jonadab is called a “wise” man (hãkãm, 2 Sam 13:3). The majority of translators take this to mean “crafty” or “shrewd” due to the criminal nature of his advice to Amnon.”
Yet S. R. Driver noted that “subtil” “is scarcely a fair paraphrase: the text says that Jonadab was wise.” He concludes that had the writer intended to convey a meaning of “shrewd” or “crafty” he would have used ´ãrôm or another such word (cf. Gen 3:1)”.
H. P. Smith remarked that “Jonadab [Amnon’s] cousin and intimate friend [sic] was a very wise man, though in this case his wisdom was put to base uses”.
“Most recently K. P. McCarter interprets Jonadab to be “very wise,” while acknowledging that our English connotation of “wise” may be a misleading translation. …. I concur with Driver and the others cited on the understanding of Jonadab as a very wise man. In addition, I posit that the ploy suggested by Jonadab to Amnon for the seduction of Tamar was known to him by virtue of his standing in the royal court as a sage”.
Hill will also cite the view of H. P. Müller, that the Hebrew word may pertain to learning:
“… after the beginning of the monarchy, it is commonly understood that the root ḥkm refers above all to the academic wisdom of the court and the ideals of the class entrusted with it”. Furthermore, recent study has shown considerable Egyptian influence on a wide range of OT literary types, most notably Hebrew wisdom.’ In recognition of this fact, R. N. Whybray states that
we cannot dismiss the considered opinion of S. Morenz, who claims that the presence at Solomon’s court of bilingual officials with a competent knowledge of Egyptian writing must be regarded, in view of what we now know of that court and its diplomatic relations with Egypt, as absolutely beyond question; and what is true of Solomon’s court may reasonably be supposed to be true of David’s also. ….
…. Given this Egyptian influence in the Israelite united monarchy and the knowledge of and access to Egyptian literature, my contention is that Jonadab was not only skilled in the academic wisdom of the royal court but also had some familiarity with Egyptian literature”.
This “Egyptian” element needed to be included here because soon the suggestion will be made that Jonadab may have had - like Tamar (as already discussed) - an Egyptian-name alter ego.
The Plot Thickens
Andrew E. Hill begins his discussion of adviser Jonadab, in his close association with Amnon, by referring to the puzzlement that Jonadab’s actual rôle in this has caused commentators. Hill gives these “two reasons” why he thinks that commentators may be puzzled about Jonadab:
1. because of the ill-fated advice he gave to the crown prince Amnon (2 Sam 13:3-5), and
2. on account of his uncanny foreknowledge of the events surrounding Absalom’s vengeful murder of Amnon (13:32-35).
Such ‘puzzled’ commentators include Hill himself, who will lament “the almost annoying paucity of material for careful analysis [of Jonadab]”.
[End of quotes]
The author of the next article will also lament the sudden disappearance of Jonadab, but definitely not for the sake of whom he calls the “inscrutably wicked fellow”: https://ralspaugh.wordpress.com/2017/05/05/what-ever-happened-to-tamar/
Teaching Boys Badly
What Ever Happened to Tamar?
Posted on May 5, 2017 by robalspaugh
I wrote this draft many months ago but wasn’t happy with how it turned out. I left it to rot in my drafts, but a funny thing then happened. When I started trashing drafts to clean up my work space, I remembered that I owed Mrs. Darwin a post on Tamar and that this draft, while imperfect, isn’t so terrible after all. Many birds, one stone:
As I’ve said before, one of the strengths of the books of Samuel is the attention to character motivations and detail. The actors on the stage are far more complex and realized than in any other books of the Old Testament.
There are strengths and weaknesses that go with this approach. Here’s a weakness: the narrator presents characters we can invest in, only to drop them when they no longer serve the goal of the narrative. We are left with loose ends and unanswered questions.
Personally I think this gives the books an added charm or appeal. But it does also mean that we don’t get to find out what happens to, say, Jonadab. Here’s an inscrutably wicked fellow whose two appearances are almost indescribably base … and then he disappears. If anyone deserves to have something awful happen to him, it’s Jonadab. In a novel or a movie, he would need to meet the most grisly fate minds can imagine. But in II Samuel, poof. Gone, just as sadly happens in real life all too often. ….
B. Tamar (Part One)
Jen Wilkin will lament, from a woman’s point of view, the tragic plight of Tamar, but also the lack of discussion in church about this incident. She will, in the process, make some very pertinent observations about the men involved in the story:
https://www.christianitytoday.com/2019/05/tamar-jen-wilkin-absalom-david-1-samuel/
Can We Finally Break the Silence Around Tamar?
Telling the uncomfortable story of “desolate” Tamar positions us to show a kind of compassion King David didn’t.
Christianity TodayJune, 2019 issue
Illustration by Mallory Rentsch
For the past year, I’ve been teaching the Book of Samuel to a group of women at my church. We go through it chapter by chapter, verse by verse, and I challenge them to think critically about what they are reading. The Book of Samuel is filled with stories that ask us to grapple with the sovereignty of God and the severity of sin. But perhaps none is so jarring as the story of Tamar and Amnon in 2 Samuel 13.
I’m sure you know it. Amnon, one of David’s sons, violates his own sister and then casts her aside. When her brother Absalom learns what Amnon has done, he tells her, “Has Amnon your brother been with you? Be quiet for now, my sister. He is your brother; do not take this thing to heart.” Absalom’s shushing and dismissing are certainly vile, but it is David’s reaction that stuns: “When King David heard all this, he was furious” (vv. 20–21).
Furious. That’s it. No public denouncement of Amnon, no vindication of Tamar. No justice, no words of comfort or kindness for his daughter, just impotent, mute anger. David is silent. He takes no action against Amnon, opening the door for Absalom to have his brother murdered in revenge. And Tamar is left desolate.
Why does David’s anger translate into silence and inaction? Because David sees in his sons an amplification of his own grievous sins. David sacrificed Bathsheba to his lust and then murdered her husband to cover his tracks. Now his two sons fulfill God’s prophecy of judgment by committing heightened versions of his own sins within their own family.
David’s guilt renders him silent. Tamar’s plea to Amnon as he overpowers her rings in the ears of the reader: As for me, where could I carry my shame? And David’s profound silence gives us our answer: Nowhere.
David’s inaction should spur us to act. David’s speechlessness should prompt us to speak.
The thing about teaching entire books of the Bible line by line is that you can’t skip over the uncomfortable parts. People notice. So we pressed through the passage, knowing it was bound to be a tender subject for women among us with similar experiences and offering help to anyone who needed it. My heart was crushed by how common Tamar’s story turned out to be.
Her story is common. But telling her story is not.
It occurred to me that in all my years in the church, I had never heard a sermon about Tamar. The other women on my teaching team couldn’t recall hearing it preached either. And no wonder—it is hardly “proper” subject matter for Sunday morning. Tamar makes only the rarest of appearances in sermons or teachings, and when she does, her story tends to be subsumed, muffled, or downplayed by our concerns to preserve David’s reputation as “a man after God’s own heart.”
There is a line we often hear attributed to Dietrich Bonhoeffer: Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.
That silence from our pulpits and lecterns speaks to women who share Tamar’s history: Your shame is merited. Your story is shocking and lewd. It causes us discomfort, and we wish to pass it by.
By teaching faithfully, forthrightly, and compassionately about Tamar, we communicate the opposite to women: Your story deserves a hearing. Your grief is our grief. Your shame is undeserved. We will help you carry it to the cross.
Tamar was defiled and cast off by the son of David, and none came to her aid. The true Son of David was defiled and cast off for us, that no daughter in the family of God should ever carry shame for abuse she has suffered.
David’s inaction should spur us to act. David’s speechlessness should prompt us to speak.
There should be no desolate women in the church, only daughters of God who are seen and cherished.
By speaking of Tamar, we are speaking to the women in our churches whose voices have grown silent beneath their shame. We are inviting them to tell and to heal.
When we tell Tamar’s story aloud, we dignify her grief. And we begin to become for our sisters the advocates Tamar should have had.
A. Jonadab (Part Two)
As I see it, the Jonadab who vanishes so completely (qua Jonadab) after his cunning advice had led to the rape of Tamar and the murder of Amnon, is also the wise counsellor, Achitophel.
Andrew E. Hill had, in the course of his terrific commentary, “A Jonadab Connection in the Absalom Conspiracy?” (JETS 30/4, December, 1987, 387-390), expressed a certain frustration due to what he called “the almost annoying paucity of material for careful analysis” regarding Jonadab. And he simply presumed that the position at court to which Jonadab may have been aspiring, was afterwards, during the revolt of Absalom (Hill presuming that Jonadab had died in the meantime), in the hands of Achitophel.
Hill had at least suspected a vocational and character likeness between Jonadab and Achitophel.
Moreover, the approximate chronological link is obvious.
My explanation would be that, as in the case of Abram and Pharaoh, different names would be given to a person according to different sources, or authors.
For whilst, as we found, the toledôt of the Egyptian-ised Ishmael will refer to Abram’s wife-taker as “Pharaoh”, the toledôt of the Palestine-located Isaac will name him, “Abimelech”:
Pharaoh of Abraham and Isaac
(2) Pharaoh of Abraham and Isaac | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu
Similarly - and with the Books of Samuel considered to have been written by more than one author (https://www.enterthebible.org/oldtestament.aspx?rid=30):
“Ancient tradition identifies Samuel as the author of the first twenty-four chapters of 1 Samuel and asserts that the rest of 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel were completed by Nathan and Gad. …”
- and with the account of the Rape of Tamar reading perhaps like a complete piece on its own, then it is possible that, whilst one author might have named the counsellor, “Jonadab”, another might have called him “Achitophel”.
Now I think that, whilst Jonadab (יוֹנָדָב) (var. Jehonadab) appears to be clearly a Hebrew name, Achitophel (אֲחִיתֹפֶל) may be foreign - say, a Hebraïsed version of the Egyptian element, Hotep.
We recall that Hill had suggested that Jonadab may have come under Egyptian “academic” influence.
So, as in the case of the “very wise” Jonadab, we read also of Achitophel (2 Samuel 16:23): “Now in those days the advice Achithophel gave was like that of one who inquires of God. That was how both David and Absalom regarded all of Achithophel’s advice”.
Jonadab and Achitophel are comparable, then as to general chronology; expert counsel - though with a malicious edge; counsellor to the king and his sons; but (if Andrew Hill is right about Jonadab) siding with Absalom (no doubt with the intention of becoming the power behind the throne after the passing of David); possible Egyptian influence.
Furthermore, just as Jonadab’s counsel will involve the exercise of Amnon’s lust, so will Achitophel’s counsel require Absalom’s sleeping with his father’s concubines.
2 Samuel 13:3: “Now Amnon had a friend named Jonadab son of Shimeah, David’s brother” might appear to pose a problem for Hill’s thesis if, as in the translation here, the Hebrew word rea (רֵעַ) is rendered as “friend”.
For Jonadab was no friend of Amnon’s if he were truly conspiring against him with Absalom.
But Hill had already accounted for this:
Jonadab is an acknowledged “friend” (réa') of Amnon …. While it is possible that he was a close personal friend of Amnon since he was a cousin, it seems more likely that the word here connotes a special office or association with the royal family (especially in light of his role as a counselor in David’s cabinet; cf. 13:32-35). During Solomon’s reign, Zabud son of Nathan has the title of priest and “king’s friend” (ré’eh hammelek, 1 Kgs 4:5). It may well be that with Jonadab (and others?) this cabinet post has its rudimentary beginnings in the Davidic monarchy.
The NIV, anyway, translates rea (perhaps more appropriately) as “adviser”, not as “friend”: “Now Amnon had an adviser named Jonadab son of Shimeah, David’s brother”.
As far as my connection goes between Jonadab and Achitophel, this same verse may also pose the biological problem for me that Jonadab was a “son of Shimeah, David’s brother”, presumably making him younger than David. For Achitophel is thought to have been the grandfather of David’s wife, Bathsheba, by comparison of 2 Samuel 11:13: “And David sent and inquired about the woman. And one said, ‘Is not this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam …’.”, and 23:34: “…Eliam the son of Achithophel the Gilonite …”.
One might generally expect a wise counsellor to be an old, grey-bearded man of experience – though exceptional young men can be sages, Solomon, for instance.
My proposed solution to this difficulty (and I may be wrong in even trying to link Jonadab with Achitophel) would appear to be, linguistically, quite an acceptable one. It utilises the very broad range of meanings attached to the Hebrew word ben – which may even refer to animals.
It can mean, for instance, “a member of a guild, order, class”.
http://www.biblestudytools.com/lexicons/hebrew/nas/ben.html
Now, Jonadab is referred to in 2 Samuel 13:3 as ben-Shimeah (בֶּן-שִׁמְעָה), translated as the “son of Shimeah”. I would take it that my collective Jonadab-Achitophel was not strictly a “son” of Shimeah’s, but, for example, an “attendant”, an “official” of Shimeah’s.
In the Septuagint version of this verse, ben is rendered by the Greek υἱὸς [Σαμαα: Shimeah], which word, too, is usually translated as “son”. But it does not need to be.
R. Brown, L. Tray and A. Gray explain the relationship between Hebrew ben and Greek huios (“A Brief Analysis of Filial and Paternal Terms in the Bible”)
http://www.ijfm.org/PDFs_IJFM/28_3_PDFs/IJFM_28_3-BrownGrayGray-BriefAnalysis.pdf
“The usage of huios in Judeo-Greek often followed that in Hebrew, so we find huios where Jesus would have used the word ben, or its Aramaic coun¬terpart bar. Examples are when he mentioned “attendants of the bride¬groom” (Mark 2:19), “members of the Kingdom” (Matt. 8:12), “officials of the king” (Matt. 17:25), “people of this age” (Luke 20:34), “people who belong to the evil one” (Matt. 13:38; cf. 1 John 3:10), and “disciples of a teacher” (Matt. 12:27), all of which translate Greek huios. Adam is presented as God’s son, evidently because God created him (Luke 3:38).
In the wider Greek context, writers used huios for non-bi¬ological relations as well. According to Irenaeus (180 AD), “when any person has been taught from the mouth of an¬other, he is termed the son of him who instructs him, and the latter [is called] his father.”1
In this vein Peter refers to Mark as his son (1 Pet. 5:13), and Paul refers to Timothy in similar terms (1 Cor. 4:17; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2; cf. 1 John 2:1; cf. 3 John 4), using teknon”.
Achitophel becomes a very tragic figure, eventually, like Judas, committing suicide – a rarity in the Bible. His treason, though, may be more understandable if he really were the grandfather of Bathsheba, who was, in turn, revered by her husband, Uriah, whom David had murdered.
It is terrible to think that David’s double-headed crime may have had this further tragic ramification in the case of one who may well have been, formerly, David’s close friend,
http://www.rvharvey.org/d-ahithophel.htm
Ahithophel is Part of the Conspiracy (II Samuel 15:10-12)
I Chronicles 27:33 says that Ahithophel was the king’s counselor. He must have been a very gifted and recognized personality. David and Ahithophel not only worshipped God together; they were the best of friends who shared their hearts. Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me. (Psalm 41:9)
For it was not an enemy that reproached me; then I could have borne it: neither was it he that hated me that did magnify himself against me; then I would have hid myself from him: But it was thou, a man mine equal, my guide, and mine acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked unto the house of God in company. (Psalm 55:12-14)
Ahithophel becomes a traitor!
It is apparent from the above verses that many of the people were not aware of what Absalom intended to do, but Ahithophel seems to have been part of the conspiracy. It is possible that Ahithophel even suggested such an act to Absalom. Whatever the case may have been, Ahithophel, who was offering sacrifices in Gilo, didn’t hesitate to join Absalom in his plan to violently dethrone his father (II Samuel 15:12).
Pope Francis has made some surprisingly sympathetic comments about the tragedy of Judas: http://en.radiovaticana.va/news/2016/04/11/pope_francis_warns_against_those_who_judge_with_closed_hea/1221870
“Pope Francis said: "It hurts when I read that small passage from the Gospel of Matthew, when Judas, who has repented, goes to the priests and says:
‘I have sinned' and wants to give ... and gives them the coins. ‘Who cares! - they say to him: it’s none of our business!’ They closed their hearts before this poor, repentant man, who did not know what to do. And he went and hanged himself. And what did they do when Judas hanged himself? They spoke amongst themselves and said: 'Is he a poor man? No! These coins are the price of blood, they must not enter the temple... and they referred to this rule and to that… The doctors of the letter. "
The life of a person did not matter to them, the Pope observed, they did not care about Judas’ repentance.
The Gospel, he continued, says that Judas came back repentant. But all that mattered to them “were the laws, so many words and things they had built”.
This – he said - shows the hardness of their hearts. It’s the foolishness of their hearts that could not withstand the wisdom of Stephen’s truth so they go to look for false witnesses to judge him”.
B. Tamar (Part Two)
Her brilliant career afterwards, from the court of David in Jerusalem, to Sheba (Bathsheba) in the southern land of Geshur, to the throne of Eighteenth Dynasty Egypt, is far too complex to go into here.
For a full account of Tamar’s spectacular life, see e.g. my article:
The vicissitudinous life of Solomon’s pulchritudinous wife
(4) The vicissitudinous life of Solomon's pulchritudinous wife | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu
See also:
Tamar’s coat may have been like the coat given to Joseph
(4) Tamar’s coat may have been like the coat given to Joseph | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu
ACHITOPHEL AND MACHIAVELLI
W. Thomas has a keen eye to Machiavelli as he describes Dryden’s Achitophel, in The Crafting of Absalom and Achitophel: Dryden’s Pen for a Party, pp. 57-58:
Certainly in tradition ever afterwards Achitophel has been the archetype of the evil counsellor. To this archetype Dryden has added the figure of Machiavelli, the courtier who, for himself and for the person he advises, gives counsel aimed, in however devious and underhanded a way, at promoting the advancement of personal political ambition.
It is this double figure that Dryden first introduces. He takes the Biblical Achitophel,
Of these the false Achitophel was first:
A Name to all succeeding Ages Curst.
fastens on his “Counsell” in the next line, but makes it “crooked” in the manner of Machiavelli and equates it with something else Machiavellian, saying that he is "For close Designs, and crooked Counsell fit”.
….
But it is more from Machiavelli that Dryden draws, than from the Bible, when he elaborates further on his Achitophel (lines 173-174):
In Friendship False, Implacable in Hate.
Resolv’d to Ruine or to Rule the State.
And it is to Machiavelli that he looks when he makes his Achitophel, in a reversal of the Biblical situation, invite his Absalom to join him in rebellion against David. Throughout, in this fictitious construct, Dryden has added, to his Biblical and traitorous Achitophel, the ambitious and scheming Machiavelli.
Behind both Machiavelli and Achitophel is, of course, the earlier and larger archetype, Satan, whose name means “the adversary”. ….
In Bringing the Hidden to Light: The Process of Interpretation (edited by Kathryn F. Kravitz, Diane M. Sharon), we find the requisite (if Achitophel is Machiavelli) comparison now between Absalom and the Prince, Cesare Borgia (p. 181):
…. As Melamed pointed out, although Luzzatto's interpretation followed the literal the literal meaning of the text and traditional Jewish commentators such as Kimḥi and Abrabanel, nevertheless he expressed it in the spirit and vocabulary of Machiavelli and the tradition of raison d’état; in Melamed's most felicitous formulation, “the House of Borgia in the ancient ... land of Israel”, Ahitophel plays Machiavelli to Absalom – his Cesare Borgia”. …. However, it should be observed that Luzzatto was not endorsing the behaviour of Absalom but only indicating, in the context of his refutation of the allegation of Tacitus that the Jews were sexually immoral, how in the spirit of Machiavelli and raison d’état, a prince might acquire power. ….
“The House of Borgia in the ancient land of Israel …”. Hmmmm.
