Otherworld Journey
The Origins of Hell in Christian Thought
In the film Jurassic Park, scientists attempted to reconstruct the DNA of
dinosaurs. When they couldn't come up with a complete model using the available
material, they filled in the blanks with what they knew—the DNA from a frog.
The results weren't pretty. We do something similar when we approach ancient
texts that originated in another time and part of the world. Since we are not
immersed in the culture of the original audience, we tend to fill in the blanks
with our own cultural knowledge. As a result, the people we read about operate
in hybrid world, a model comprised of both ancient and contemporary features.
For example, the material culture of ancient Palestine was vastly different
than ours. We know that Paul didn't preach in the shadow of high-rise office
buildings with a sandwich board reading: “The end is near!” He didn't text
Timothy with his cellphone. Paul never had a blog. These are anachronisms.
However, when we read about husbands and wives in the Bible—social roles and
their related concepts—we tend to view them like we view ourselves. These
disparities are less apparent to many of us and, as a result, the cause of much
misunderstanding. We rarely consider the significance of patrilocal living,
endogamic marriage strategies, arranged marriage, or that the heads of
households negotiated the marriage contract withan eye to political and
economic gains. The failure to consider these culture-specific nuances and
assuming our own values in their place is called ethnocentrism:
[E]thnocentrism is
the belief that one's own culture is superior to others, which is often
accompanied by a tendency to make invidious comparisons. In a weaker form,
ethnocentrism is the tendency to look at other cultures through the filter of
one's own cultural presuppositions. This can lead to a failure to appreciate
the different frames of reference within which members of other cultures
operate. . . i
It is the so-called “weaker form” that usually
affects us. We make assumptions about other people and their concepts that they
may not recognize as their own. But this is not a new phenomenon. People of the
first century were just as likely to filter other cultures through their own
presuppositions. Paul himself experienced this problem with Jew and Gentile
converts; each group approached the Gospel from different cultural backgrounds
(e.g., regard or lack thereof for various food laws, days, new moons,
circumcision, etc).
From a social science perspective, the Gospel among
the Greeks is itself an example of cultural diffusion. This is the
process by which a trait, material object, idea (Gospel), or behavior pattern
is spread from one society to another. In addition to missionaries like Paul,
diffusion can occur when people from different cultures live in close
proximity. They intermarry, exchange goods, technology, or even religion.
In this paper, we are going to examine how early
post-biblical (note the prefix) Christians filtered New Testament eschatology
through their own cultural presuppositions—those values and beliefs they had
prior to contact with the Good News. Said another way, we are going to consider
how the “weaker” form of ethnocentrism affected Christian thought, specifically
the concept we now call hell. To establish a historical context, we will
survey otherworld traditions from various times and places noting the diffusion
of certain commonalities. We will find that there is a direct line from current
notions of hell back to its origins in the mythological underworld.
Based on the literary evidence, it is clear that post-biblical Christian
writers in the Greco-Roman world combined elements of biblical eschatology with
what we now call Classical Mythology. Although its sources have been
sanitized by time and tradition, this is the hell that many of us read
back into scripture. In other words, the ethnocentrism of early Greek
Christians has become our own. But scripture paints a very different picture
once our cultural presuppositions are exposed. We need to do a better job of
filling in the blanks.
The
Otherworld Journey
In many ancient cultures, the boundary between the
world of the living and that of the dead was permeable. Otherworld journeys
appear in many forms: Buddhist, Persian, Egyptian, Hebrew, Greco-Roman. For the
Greeks, Hades was not a “spiritual” realm; it was believed to be accessible
through various openings in the earth. In mythology, heroes would venture to
the other side for a number of reasons. Orpheus went to Hades to retrieve his
wife, Eurydice, who had died of a snake bite. One of Heracles' labors involved
capturing Cerberus, the three-headed hound that guarded the entrance (and exit)
of the underworld. Theseus and Perithous tried to kidnap Persephone, the wife
of Hades, to make her Perithous' wife.
In Homer and Vergil, heroes visit the underworld as
part of a larger quest. In the earliest Christian tradition, the otherworld is
the main theme rather than a subsection of the story. These visions are
eschatological—apocalyptic; they assume futurism. Medieval visions drew from
the earlier pool of Christian and pagan otherworld journeys. They recount tales
of torment in hell which were used for the edification of the church.
In many cases, especially in Christian writings, the
soul of the visionary is separated from the body. The seer is usually
accompanied by a guide who both informs and protects. Aeneas has the Sybil,
Dante has Vergil. In Judeo-Christian otherworld journeys, the guide is
typically an angel. In the literature that we will touch on, the otherworld
geography (divisions of the righteous and sinners) is typically the same since
they share common sources. Likewise, the vocabulary is common among them. Fire
and torture are standard fare as is the recounting of sins committed. We'll
encounter a few of the more famous sinners in a number different works dating
from Homer up to and including pseudo-Pauline literature.
Concepts
of the Otherworld in Early Hebrew Literature
The afterlife in the ancient world is a complex
subject. There is no single view. Instead, various traditions mingle together
throughout the centuries. Since the Hebrews were in direct contact with other
cultures, they did have ample opportunity to incorporate foreign otherworld
traditions into their concept of Sheol—whether Egyptian or Babylonian—but they
resisted.
The Egyptian Book of the Dead was a handbook for the
recently deceased. It served as a guide to the otherworld explaining the perils
that one would encounter on the trek to judgment and beyond. At death, one's
soul, depicted as a bird with a human head, and life force would be ferried
across the sky toward the West by Agen and Mahaf in the boat of Ra. There were
seven gates that one must pass, each with its own gatekeeper, watcher and
herald. In order to pass the dead must consult his guidebook to evoke the names
of each. After transversing the portals of the house of Osiris, Anubis, the
Egyptian psychopomp (soul-conductor), would guide the deceased to the Hall of
Justice. At this point, one can plead his case for continued existence before
the judge Osiris. However, Thoh, the god of wisdom, acts as prosecutor, so dolts
don't have much of a chance. At the close of the trial, Anubis will take the
heart of the defendant and place it in the Scales of Justice. It is then
weighed against a feather from the headdress of the goddess of truth, Maat.
Should the scale fail to tip in the defendant's favor, Ammit, who crouched
beneath the scale, would devour the heart. Such an outcome results in the end
of one's existence. Other perils awaited those who passed, but we do not need
to belabor the point: the Egyptian otherworld is not even close to Hebrew
Sheol.
Gordon
and Rendsburg note:
This fully
developed [Egyptian] concept of a personal judgment, whereby each man enters
paradise if his character and life on earth warrant it, appears quite
remarkable when we consider that centuries later there was still no such idea
in Mesopotamia and Israel. The Babylonians and Assyrians never developed it.
And in Israel, throughout nearly all of the Bible, the afterworld was
considered a dreary underground place called Sheol, where good and bad alike
led an eventless existence. Indeed the later Jewish, Christian and Islamic
concept of the afterlife, as one in which the individual is rewarded or
punished depending on his early record, is more akin to Egyptian views than to
those of the Hebrew Bible. ii
These so-called Egyptian elements are more
recognizable to us in Grecian garb. As we shall see, both intertestamental
Jewish and post-biblical Christian writings borrowed quite liberally from Greek
mythology, which itself drew from Near Eastern sources.
Equally divergent from biblical Sheol is the epic of
the mythical king of Uruk, Gilgamesh. The version presented here, compiled
around one-thousand B.C., was discovered in the library of Ashurbanipal in
Nineveh; although fragments dating back to the second millennium B.C. are
extant.
This tale gives a detailed account of the world
beyond. Gilgamesh's companion Enkidu relates his vision of the underworld and
its inhabitants, a premonition of his own death:
There is a house
whose peoples sit in darkness; dust is their food and clay their meat. They are
clothed like birds with wings for covering, they see no light, they sit in
darkness. I entered the house of dust and I saw the kings of the earth, their
crowns put away for ever; rulers and princes, all those who once wore kingly
crowns and ruled the world in days of old. They who had stood in the place of
the gods like Anu and Enlil, stood now like servants to fetch baked meats in the
house of dust, to carry cooked meat and cold water from the water-skin. iii
Enkidu eventually met this fate. But Gilgamesh
refused to bury his companion and instead lamented over his body for seven days
and seven nights hoping that Enkidu would rise again. “Finally, after watching
his body with pious devotion, he notices a worm on the corpse and realizes that
death takes its victims beyond recall. The awful reality of death fills
Gilgamesh with fear for, since he is not completely divine, he too must die.
Hence he becomes obsessed with the drive to obtain immortality.” iv
The Hebrews rejected such otherworld notions—or at
least did not record them as their own. In light of that statement, there is
one biblical text that should be mentioned at this point.
Isaiah 14 contains the most explicit details of
Sheol in the Old Testament—but is it really Sheol? Yahweh's prophet Isaiah was
told to “taunt the king of Babylon” (Is 14.4), and, it would seem, he did so
using Babylonian otherworld concepts.
Sheol below is
stirred up about you, ready to meet you when you arrive. It rouses the spirits
of the dead for you, all the former leaders of the earth; it makes all the
former kings of the nations rise from their thrones. All of them respond to
you, saying: 'You too have become weak like us! You have become just like us!
Your splendor has been brought down to Sheol, as well as the sound of your
stringed instruments. You lie on a bed of maggots, with a blanket of worms over
you. (Net, Is. 14.9-11)
As in Gilgamesh, the kings of the earth have been
made low; it is a reversal of fortunes. The Babylonian king was no more
immortal than Gilgamesh, and he too would be food for worms. It would be a
mistake to read the above as Isaiah's view of underworld. Isaiah's taunt no
more reflects his infernology than the subsequent section reflects his ouranology.
Read the former in light of the latter; these verses are contrasting Babylonian
otherworld motifs:
Look how you have
fallen from the sky, O shining one, son of the dawn! You have been cut down to
the ground, O conqueror of the nations! You said to yourself, “I will climb up
to the sky. Above the stars of El I will set up my throne. I will rule on the
mountain of assembly on the remote slopes of Zaphon. I will climb up to the
tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High!” But you were brought
down to Sheol, to the remote slopes of the pit. (NET, Is. 14.12-15)
A little mythology is helpful here. In Ugaritic
texts, Mount Zaphon is the equivalent of the Greek Mount Olympus; it was home
of the gods. What is Isaiah saying? The would be god-king of Babylon desired to
set himself on the sacred mountain, above the astral deities—on par with the
“Most High,” which in this context refers to the god El.v Yet Isaiah insists that the arrogant
king would be brought low, like his predecessors of old. Even Turner, whose
work betrays an affinity for parallelomania, makes an insightful
observation with reference to Isaiah 14: “Its message is exactly the same as
the one Enkidu reported to Gilgamesh, that great kings are brought low in
Ereshkigal's [underworld] domain. Indeed, in sending the Babylonian king to a
Babylonian Hell, the prophet appears to be making a grim joke.” vi We are inclined to agree. After all,
the prophet was instructed to “taunt the king of Babylon.” “This song
uses the metric pattern of a dirge but parodies the genre by mocking rather
than eulogizing the dead.” vii It is unwise to build an
“underworld” doctrine around parody. Isaiah, like Elijah among the prophets of
Baal, was being cheeky.
In contrast to the above, the Hebrew concept of Sheol
is unique—and relatively nondescript by Ancient Near Eastern standards. Walton
comments: “[Sheol] has no known antecedent in other cultures or religions of
the ancient world. . .” viii He summarizes the Hebrew
netherworld:
This summary is not intended to be an exhaustive
treatment of Sheol. We mention these features (or lack of features) because
there is a stark contrast between Old Testament Sheol and the explicit details
we will encounter in the texts to follow—not to mention what we have
encountered already. In other words, in this presentation we are more concerned
with what Sheol was not rather than what it was. There are no hints of
division based moral code, or soul guides (psychopomps), or underworld
travelers, or rewards and punishments. At this point, we may note that the
Hebrew view of the otherworld was neutral.
Concepts
of the Otherworld in Greek Literature
Homer's underworld is also what we might call neutral.
The fate of all was the same. Or as Lucian through Menippus phrased it: “Hades
is a democracy; one man is as good as another here.” x When people died: “Their souls
passed beneath the earth and went down into the house of Hades; but their
bones, when the skin is rotted about them, crumble away on the dark earth under
parching Sirius.” xi Hermes, as the conductor of souls,
or psychopomp, would ensure that the recently deceased found their way to
the underworld.
In Book XI of the Odyssey, the hero Odysseus
gains access to the world of the dead by means of animal sacrifice. The souls
of men and women emerge and make their way to the sacrificial trench to drink
the blood of the animal, thereby gaining the strength to speak. Many of
Odysseus' companions who had fallen in the Trojan War appear—still wearing
their armor, still bloody. Their existence is cheerless, but not torturous.
Certain mortals could escape this fate, if they
happened to be related to Zeus—either by birth or by marriage. For example,
Menelaus would not taste death as he was the husband of Helen, Zeus' daughter.
The gods would instead transport him to the Elysium, also called the Isles of
the Blessed, which were believed to be far in the West at this time. There
Menelaus would enjoy immortality without snow, or hail, or rain, or hard
labor—just a pleasant wind “that sings softly from the sea, and gives fresh
life to all men.” Sounds a lot like Hawaii. (Odyssey 4.563)
Meanwhile, back at the sacrificial trench, Odysseus
does see certain beings who are undergoing punishment. Even if this portion is
not a later interpolation, those who are being punished are of divine decent:
Tantalus and the “tantalizing” feast and drink that are eternally just out of
reach, Sisyphus who roles a great stone up a hill only to have it roll down
again, and the Titan Tityus stretched out over several acres of ground while
vultures dig at his liver. Yet for the vast majority of mortals, from the hoi
polloi to heroes, the afterlife was neutral.
However, the underworld began to take on a more
sinister character. Ironically, Homer and Hesiod are victims of this branch of
otherworld tradition. They do not experience the neutral existence that they
espoused. Recounting an otherworld journey, Diogenes Laertius reports that
“when [Pythagoras] descended to the shades below, he saw the soul of Hesiod
bound to a brazen pillar and gibbering; and that of Homer suspended from a
tree, and snakes around it, as a punishment for the things that they had said
of the gods.” xii Here we see the influence of the
Eleusinian Mysteries and 'Orphism.' The afterlife is no longer neutral as one
now had the opportunity to secure a better existence—and avoid
punishment—either by devoting oneself to a god (or goddesses), initiation, or,
in Plato's view, through the pursuit of wisdom.
Mysteries
Many details of mystery cult rituals are lost to us.
Martin notes, “The most eloquent proof of the sanctity attached to the
Mysteries of Demeter and Kore is that throughout the thousand years during
which the rites were celebrated, we know of no one who ever revealed the
secret.” xiii
Demeter was a fertility goddess. In Latin, she was
known as Ceres, from which we get the word cereal. Her daughter
Persephone (Kore, or maiden) was abducted by Hades, god of the
underworld, and taken below to be his bride. Demeter searched and searched for
Persephone but could not find her. During her quest the earth went barren.
Eventually, Zeus intervened, even though he was an accomplice to the
kidnapping. But Hades was sneaky. He gave Persephone a pomegranate to eat
which, for whatever reason, meant should could not leave the underworld
forever. As a result, Demeter and Hades shared “joint custody” of Persephone.
Part of the year, the earth produced its crops—when Persephone was with
Demeter. The other part of the year, the land would be barren—when Persephone
was with Hades in the underworld. xiv
This etiologcial myth was also the basis for the
celebrations in Eleusis. Despite the secretiveness of the rites, their
influence was widespread: “So important were the Eleusinian Mysteries that the
states of Greece honored an international agreement setting a period of
fifty-five days for guaranteed safe transit through their territories for
travelers to and from the festival.” xv
We know that the aim of such festivities, at least
in part, was to secure a better existence in the afterlife. Burkert wrote:
The Hipponion gold
leaf. . .depicts [initiates] and [worshipers of Dionysus] in the netherworld
proceeding on the sacred way toward eternal bliss, just as the Eleusinian
[initiates] are still celebrating their joyous festival in Hades, according to
Aristophanes' Frogs. . .
Initiation was the way to go if one wished to secure
a better death after life:
“Happy they all on
account of the [initiation ceremony] that free from suffering,” Pindar says in
one of his Dirges. xvi
But those who failed to be initiated in life were
doomed to such vain labors as carrying water in a sieve.
Plato
In the Republic, Plato recounts how at the
doors of the rich
wandering priests
and seers present a hubbub of books Musaios and Orpheus, offspring of the Moon
and the Muses, as they say, by which they conduct sacrifice [bloodless, no
doubt], persuading not just individuals but also cities that there are forms of
release and purifications from wrongdoing through sacrifices and play,
effective both during life and also after death; they call initiations—they
free us from evil there [in the underworld], but if we do not sacrifice a
terrible fate awaits us. xvii
Sophocles paints a similar picture:
Thrice blessed are
those mortals who witness these rites before passing to Hades. To them alone is
life granted there; for the rest there is nothing but evil. xviii
Plato's take is somewhat different in that
philosophy rather than initiation is the means to a rewarding afterlife.
Plato's view assumes the immortality of the soul and its cyclical rebirth. The Vision
of Er illuminates the process of the soul's search for truth. Er died in
battle, but he woke up twelve days later on his funeral pyre. He then reported
all that his soul had seen and heard in his otherworld journey. To briefly
summarize: When a person dies, his soul is chastised for wrongful deeds with an
aim toward purification. “. . .for every wrong which they had done to any one
they suffered tenfold.” xix But their punishment is corrective,
and temporary. xx Those who are curable receive their
due penalty and, when the cycle is complete, attempt to choose a better
existence in the next reincarnation. After a drink from the river Lethe
(Forgetfulness), the soul is off to a new body.
The lover of wisdom can escape this cycle and,
ultimately, the prison of the body. However, the incurably wicked are taken out
of the cycle and cast into in Tartarus. Eternal torment, which was reserved for
Titans and descendants of the gods in the poets, has been opened up for
mortals—those “private individuals who had become great criminals.” xxi Punishments include being bound,
flayed, dragged along the roadside, and carded on horns like wool. Here, unlike
Homer, we have a distinction based on a moral code as well as reward and
punishment.
Concepts
of the Otherworld in Latin Literature
The Aeneid of Vergil, from the first century
B.C., incorporates several of the elements discussed thus far. Like Odysseus,
Aeneas performs an animal sacrifice to gain access to the underworld. Guided by
the Cumaean Sibyl, Aeneas is witness to three divisions of the hereafter. In
one location, we find the souls of infants, those who were condemned to die
under false accusations, and other innocents who are neither blessed nor
cursed. This is the neutral existence in the spirit of Homer. Aeneas also finds
those who are undergoing punishment in Tartarus, both Titans and mortals. Being
a decent fellow, Aeneas was forbidden to step foot into the pit of despair, but
he was allowed to look through the open gate. He saw the usual suspects like
Sisyphus and Tantalus, both of whom we will encounter yet again—in Christian
works. The Sybil explains: “Even if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths
and a voice of iron, I yet could not include every shape of crime or list every
punishment's name.” xxii Vergil's separation of the
righteous and the wicked recalls the moral element that was present in both
Plato and the mysteries. In fact, the crimes listed by both Plato and Vergil
are essentially the same: dishonoring one's parents or lineage, betrayal,
murder, etc.
The virtuous escape this unpleasantness and enjoy
blessedness in the Elysian Fields. Anchises, Aeneas' father, resides here even
though he was a mortal and not related to Zeus. The standards for admission
have become more relaxed at this later date. Anchises tells his son that before
a soul can be admitted to Elysium, it must be cleansed through punishment by
means of wind, water or fire. When a thousand years of bliss has passed, the
soul is made to drink from the river Lethe (Forgetfulness), so that it begins
to long for a body again. Obviously, Vergil owes much to Plato's Myth of Er.
Summary
of Hades
Greek and Latin views of the afterlife were varied
and complex. We find everything from nothingness, which we did not discuss, to
reincarnation with rewards and punishments sprinkled in between. This is only a
sampling of the available literature, but these works are well-known and their
influence will be seen as we progress. At the moment, we can summarize some of
the key features:
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The Underworld in Greek Literature |
The Underworld in the Hebrew Bible |
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Hades is the abode of the dead |
Sheol is the abode of the dead |
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Psychopomp leads the dead to Hades |
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There is a great gulf, Tartarus |
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Divisions for the virtuous and sinners |
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Rewards and punishment |
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Underworld is visited in otherworld journeys |
Concepts of the Otherworld in Later Jewish
Literature
The notion of the otherworld in Greek and Latin
literature is certainly more explicit in its details than the Hebrew Bible. A
comparative study of Hades in Jewish sources after Alexander's conquest betrays
the fact that the later Hebrew underworld had more in common with Greek Hades
than Hebrew Sheol. For the Hebrews, cultural diffusion had more of an impact
than ethnocentrism. That is, rather than overlaying biblical Sheol on Hades,
Hades supplanted the biblical view of Sheol. As a result, the vagueness of
Sheol in the Hebrew Bible is embellished during this period. Hebrew writers
borrow terms, stories, and various themes from Greek writers to fill in the
blanks left by their own countrymen. The otherworld journey is one of the
duplicated themes.
I Enoch (Second Century BC – First Century AD)
contains many traces of Greek myth. In this tale Enoch takes an otherworld
journey guided by angelic beings—an event, of course, which is completely
unaccounted for in the Hebrew scriptures. The story certainly contains Jewish
features, but the contact with other sources is plain.
Charles notes:
[Chapters 17-19] .
. . are full of Greek elements, e.g. Pyriphlegethon, Styx, Acheron and Cocytus
(xvii. 5, 6); the Ocean Stream (xvii. 5, 7, 8; xviii. 10); Hades in the West
(xvii. 6). xxiii
These rivers, of course, are in the Greek
underworld, not Sheol.
The author of Enoch spends several chapters
retelling of the Genesis 6 material—the sons of God mating with the daughters
of men and their offspring. This obscure section of Genesis is rewritten in
great detail. Actually, “rewritten” may not be the correct word—perhaps
“merged” is better.
One of the more obvious additions is the role of
Azazel, a great angel, who is called on the carpet for his part in corrupting
mankind at this early stage. Azazel is said to have “taught men to make swords,
and knives, and shields, and breastplates, and made known to them the metals of
the earth and the art of working them...” (8:1) God was not pleased that the
great angel had given mankind this knowledge. Enoch proclaimed this against
Azazel: “...a severe sentence has gone forth [from God] to put you in bonds.”
(13:1) His liver wasn't pecked out, but the similarities between Azazel and
Prometheus are evident. Prometheus stole more than fire. In addition to the
gifts attributed to Azazel by author(s) of Enoch, the Titan also gave mankind
medicine, interpretation of dreams, and enlightenment. Prometheus extols his
deeds in Aeschylus' play Prometheus Bound:
Beneath the earth,
man's hidden blessing, copper, iron, silver, and gold – will anyone claim to
have discovered them before I did? No one, I am very sure, who wants to speak
truly and to the purpose. One brief word will tell the whole story: all arts
that mortals have come from Prometheus. xxiv
Prometheus angered Zeus with his gifts to mankind.
Prometheus, like Azazel, was bound as a result. However, Azazel was not bound
to a rock but in a great abyss, as were the Titans.
On that same note, in Chapter 20 of I Enoch we find
mention of that titanic prison, Tartarus. We can add to this growing list of
filched features the three divisions of the dead, as in Vergil, accompanied by
the torment of the wicked:
Here their spirits
shall be set apart in this great pain, till the great day of judgement,
scourgings, and torments of the accursed for ever, so that (there may be)
retribution for their spirits. (32.11)
The virtuous live uptown—with bright lights and a
stream of water. Collins tells us that the spring of water and light are Orphic
motifs.xxv Concerning the virtuous in the
underworld, Aristophanes wrote:
We alone have
sunshine (in the underworld) and bright light, we who have been initiated and
who behaved with piety toward guests and ordinary people. (Aristophanes Frogs
454-9) xxvi
Charles also recognizes other foreign influences in
I Enoch:
[Chapter 22]
contains a very detailed account of Sheol or Hades. The writer places it in the
far west, as the Babylonians, Greeks, and Egyptians did, and not in the
underworld, as the Hebrews. In all other sections of Enoch the Hebrew view
prevails. This is the earliest statement of the Pharisaic or Chasid doctrine of
Sheol, but here it is already fullgrown. The departed have conscious existence,
and moral, not social distinctions are observed in Sheol. xxvii
In other words, this version of Sheol is not the
biblical version of Sheol. This is clear evidence that the author's of I Enoch
borrowed quite liberally—and unabashedly—from various traditions, especially
the Greeks. In other words, Hades and Tartarus are not just a
loanwords. In this work, they retain many of their original features.
I Enoch is not the only Jewish otherworldly tale. The
Apocalypse Of Zephaniah (First Century BC – First Century AD) also contains
a Jewish nekyia. Punishment is a major theme in this tale, too. Angels
take on the role of psychopomp, guiding souls to their final
destination. Much like Hades himself, there is a great angel, Eremiel, who
“rules over the abyss and Hades.” (6:15) While making preparations for a river
journey in the underworld, the seer's guide exclaims, “Triumph, prevail because
you have prevailed and have triumphed over the accuser, and you have come up
from Hades and the abyss. You will now cross over the crossing place.” (7:9) On
the other side of the crossing place, on the good side, stands Abraham along
with other heroes from Israel's past.(9:4-5) It is a Hebrew work, but it
incorporates all of the Hadean features we have discussed. In other words, this
is not Old Testament Sheol either.
|
The Underworld in Late Jewish Literature |
The Underworld in Greek Literature |
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Hades is the abode of the dead |
Hades is the abode of the dead |
|
Psychopomp leads the dead to Hades |
Psychopomp leads the dead to Hades |
|
There is a great gulf, Tartarus |
There is a great gulf, Tartarus |
|
Divisions for the virtuous and sinners |
Divisions for the virtuous and sinners |
|
Rewards and eternal conscious torment |
Rewards and eternal conscious torment |
|
Underworld is visited in otherworld journeys |
Underworld is visited in otherworld journeys |
Concepts
of the Otherworld in Luke 16
At this point, we should mention the parable of the
rich man and Lazarus, which begins in Luke 16:19. Give it read. There are some
obvious parallels between its features and the those we've just outlined
including: Hades, psychopomps, a great gulf, divisions, and reward and
punishment. Why is this parable in a different category than the otherworld
visions we have considered up to this point?
Let me begin with an anecdote: in the animated film A
Bug's Life, the character Dot, who happens to be an ant, is upset because
she is young, small and unable to do some things bigger bugs can do. Flik, a
wiser and older ant, attempts to teach her a lesson by way of allegory. Picking
up a rock, he says:
Flik: Here, pretend
this is a seed.
Dot: But it's a
rock.
Flik: I know, I
know, but let's for a minute pretend it's a seed, lets use our imaginations.
You see our tree? Everything that is in that giant tree is contained inside
this tiny seed. All it needs is some time, a little sunshine and rain, and
voilá!
Dot: This rock will
be a tree?
Flik: Seed to tree,
you have to stay with me. Now, it may seem that you can't do anything, but
that's just because you're not a tree yet. You just have to give yourself more
time. You're still a seed.
Dot: But it's a
rock.
Flik: [shouting] I
know it's a rock! Don't you think I know a rock when I see a rock? I've spent a
lot of time around rocks!
Dot: You're weird,
but I like you.
Dot just couldn't get past the surface imagery to
see the true message that Flik was trying to get across. Sometimes a rock isn't
a rock.
Some of us do the same thing with Jesus' parable of
the rich man and Lazarus. Yet the surface imagery in a parable signifies
something other than itself. As Jesus said, “To what can we compare the kingdom
of God, or what parable can we use to present it?” (Mark 4:30) For example, in
Matthew 13 the “tares” stand for the “sons of the evil one.” The “wheat” stands
for “sons of the kingdom.” According to Jesus' interpretation, the parable of
the tares among the wheat is not about agriculture. Likewise, the parable of
the landowner in Matthew 21 is not about tenant farming or how to handle
delinquent accounts. (Give it a read, too.)
So why is the parable of the rich man and Lazarus
different? Why do people take this as Jesus' “doctrine” of the underworld?
Jesus' use of mythology in this parable is not tacit consent to the existence
of such a place. (Remember Isaiah 14?) If it is, then we should apply the same
standard to other parables. Where can we find the landowner's parabolic
vineyard—the one with the fence, winepress, and watchtower from Matthew 21:33f?
Of course, the “meaning” of a parable is not on the
surface. Jesus' disciples asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?”
(Matthew 13.10) How did he reply? “You have been given the opportunity to know
the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but they have not.” (Matthew 13.11) If
the meaning is on the surface, it isn't much of a secret. Peter, Paul and Mary
said something similar: “but if I really say it/the radio won't play it/unless
I lay it between the lines.” So while some in Jesus' audience got hung up on
the finer points of agriculture, tenant farming, or mythology, those with
insight could pick up on what he was putting down: “But your eyes are blessed
because they see, and your ears because they hear.” (Matthew 13:16, NET) Thus,
parables may be confusing—even misleading—to some, but instructive to others.
In Luke 16:31, Jesus makes his point explicitly: “If
they do not respond to Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced even
if someone rises from the dead.” The parable of the rich man and Lazarus is a
lesson about Israel, not the geography of Hades or elucidation of the so-called
intermediate state. If one is looking at the surface of Jesus' parables, then
one has missed the point—much like Dot and the rock-seed debacle. Doctrine
should be culled from the epistles and not the imagery of parables—especially
when Jesus does not interpret the figures. (Augustine did not follow this
advice, see note xlvii.) As we'll see shortly, the epistles flatly contradict
some of the “doctrine” that has been read into this parable.
Some may object to the suggestion that Jesus used
myth to illustrate his point. However, Jesus was not alone in this. Paul
likewise borrowed from myth to suite his purposes. In Acts 17:26-29, Paul,
using the alter 'To an unknown god' as a segue, stood before the Athenians in
the Areopagus and said:
From one man ['the
unknown God'] made every nation of the human race to inhabit the entire earth,
determining their set times and the fixed limits of the places where they would
live, so that they would search for God and perhaps grope around for him and
find him, though he is not far from each one of us. For in him we live and
move about and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, 'For we
too are his offspring.' So since we are God's offspring, we should not
think the deity is like gold or silver or stone, an image made by human skill
and imagination.
The first portion of verse 28, in italics, is a
quote from Epimenides; a Cretan philosopher, poet and prophet. The second
portion of verse 28, also in italics, is from the Phaenomena of Aratus.
In their original contexts, both of these lines refer Zeus. Paul hijacked the
poets praise of Zeus and applied those lines to the God of Israel, the “unknown
God.” Of course, Paul was not confirming the existence of Zeus by quoting poets
who lauded the Olympian's virtues. No one ever accuses him of such. Why is
Jesus different? Surely, Jesus was not substantiating Grecian notions of the
underworld (which had been diffused into Judaism) by using such themes in a
parable about Israel. Both Jesus and Paul used myth to suite to their
purposes—yet neither apply the stamp of truth to myth. They used myth to
illustrate the truth.
In the next section, we will discover that
post-biblical Christian writers incorporated many of the Grecian underworld
features found in Luke 16.19-31. There is one significant difference between
Jesus' story and otherworld journeys of subsequent Christian literature: Since
the tale of the rich man and Lazarus is a parable, xxviii the details are not presented as
“fact” as is the case with otherworld journeys in, for example,
pseudo-apocalypses or Medieval visions.
Two final points: Even if one chooses to disregard
what has been said up to this point regarding the parable of the rich man and
Lazarus, there is nothing in the text to suggest that their respective states
were to be eternal. There is nothing in the text about their fate post-70 AD.
Simply put: this text in no way teaches eternal conscious torment.
Concepts
of the Otherworld in Early Christian Literature
We have already seen how effectively the writers of I
Enoch and the The Apocalypse of Zephaniah had assimilated material
from the mythology of the Greeks. The acceptance of Grecian underworld
tradition to such an extent is really quite remarkable as cultural diffusion
must first overcome one's resistance to change. On the other hand,
ethnocentrism in its so-called “weaker form” is passive. Consequently,
ethnocentrism is both easier to apply and harder for the individual to
recognize as it happens. So then, it is no surprise that post-biblical
Christian writers failed to completely jettison some notions they had prior to
conversion. Christian eschatology was often filtered through both philosophy
and mythology. In fact, the otherworld journey made a seamless transition into
Christian writings. We will consider three very influential examples of the
otherworld journey in Christian literature; The Apocalypse of Peter
(c.130), The Apocalypse of Paul (c. 380), The Gospel of Nicodemus
(late 3rd century).
Regarding Nicodemus, James comments:
The central idea,
the delivery of the righteous Fathers from Hades, is exceedingly ancient.
Second-century writers are full of it. The embellishments, the dialogues of
Satan with Hades, which are so dramatic, come in later, perhaps with the
development of pulpit oratory among Christians. We find them in fourth-century
homilies attributed to Eusebius of Emesa. xxix
Acts 2.27, 31 Note on 1 Peter 3.19 xxx
must have paved the way for the “Descent into Hell” contained in Nicodemus.
Peter quotes David saying, “. . .because you will not leave my soul in Hades,
nor permit your Holy One to experience decay.” Of course, since Peter is
quoting the Old Testament, 'Hades' here stands for 'Sheol' and not the Greek
underworld. But that didn't stop the author(s) of Nicodemus from turning
Jesus into an otherworld traveler, a role similar to those of Heracles and
Orpheus before him. In this tale, Jesus goes down to the Greek version of Hades
to rescue the saints of old. After learning of Jesus' death and his true
identity, Hades (the god, Zeus' brother) says to Satan, “I adjure thee by the
powers which belong to thee and me, that thou bring him not to me.” (Hone,
15.16) Apparently, Satan has assumed Hermes' role as psychopomp. But it was too
late. For while Satan and Hades were stilling talking, Jesus arrived at the
gate and said, “Lift up your gates, O ye princes; and be ye lift up, O
everlasting gates, and the King of Glory shall come in.” (Hone, 16.1) Hades
orders the brass gate to be reinforced, but it's no use. Jesus appears in their
midst and breaks the chains of Death (a minor god) that had held the patriarchs
captive. Jesus then ushers them to paradise, the garden of Eden.
This tale has had considerable influence over the
centuries:
Art and literature all through Europe had from early times embodied in many forms the Descent into Hell, and specimens plays upon this theme in various European literatures still exist, but it is in Middle English dramatic literature that we find the fullest and most dramatic development of the subject. The earliest specimen extant of the English religious drama is upon the Harrowing of Hell, and the four great cycles of English mystery play