With this in mind, the full significance of the biblical “righteousness” comes to light: It refers to the observance of those moral principles common to all humanity and demanded of every person, including those unfamiliar with the Tora.119 The book of Proverbs emphasizes such conduct in the personal realm, and Judges, Samuel, Kings and Chronicles, among others, relate to “what is right” mainly in the public and national spheres. Thus, biblical “righteousness” expresses a political vision that embraces the minimal moral criteria that Israel is expected to meet, including both the private and public dimensions.
The most exhaustive treatment of the biblical idea of righteousness is given in the context of the first Israelite king, Saul. His story is important because it offers a clear picture of the royal conflict between fulfilling God’s ideal moral commands, and meeting the demands of one’s constituency, the people.120 The source of the schism goes back to God’s charging Saul with the duty to attack the Amalekites and destroy them totally, together with all that belongs to them. Instead, at the moment of victory, “Saul and the troops spared Agag [king of Amalek] and the best of the sheep, the oxen, the second born, the lambs, and all else that was of value. They would not proscribe them; they proscribed only what was cheap and worthless.”121 Contrary to God’s order, Saul and the people spare the choice spoils and the king Agag, who is described as someone whose “sword bereaved women.”122 This blatant disregard of God’s command leads the judge Samuel to challenge Saul directly: “Why did you disobey the Eternal and fly upon the spoil, and do what was evil in the eyes of the Eternal?”123 Saul’s instinct is to try to extricate himself, by declaring: “I have fulfilled the Eternal’s command!”124 He then explains that the spoils are meant for the altar of the Eternal. Finally, Saul is forced to admit, “I did wrong to transgress the Eternal’s command and your instructions; but I was afraid of the people and I yielded to them.”125 The cause of the debacle, in other words, is the conflict between the two sources of royal legitimacy: The will of the people who established the monarchy, and the command of God who confirmed the institution. Saul’s sin was that instead of attempting to integrate the two demands upon him, he chose the “easy” route of surrendering to the will of the people.
Because of this episode, and despite entreaties from both Saul and Samuel, God strips Saul’s reign of divine sanction.126 Still, Israel’s first king is not removed from the throne, nor is there any demand that he abdicate. Saul continues to rule for another generation, but without the benefit of God’s help: A loss of divine legitimacy does not by itself justify deposing the king, as long as he fulfills his basic obligations in accordance with natural morality. From this time forward, however, Saul’s reign lacks heavenly mandate, and is based solely on the public’s consent.127
Even David, who is anointed the successor king by divine command, never challenges Saul’s right to rule—not even when Saul tries to kill him. Here the Bible delivers a very clear message. David is the newly anointed, divinely ordained king, and his own life is in danger at the hands of the king from whom divine favor had been withdrawn decades earlier. It would seem that, more than anyone else, he would be entitled to take Saul’s life. Yet both times David is presented with an opportunity to kill Saul, he declares he will not raise his hand against an Israelite king. David’s position underscores the biblical understanding of political authority: Even when the monarch no longer enjoys divine grace, by virtue of his public mandate to seek the path of righteousness for his people the king remains the embodiment of the public sphere. As such, he must not be harmed, even under the most extreme provocation.128
Saul’s demise comes only by his own misdeeds, when his poor judgment relating to the Philistines allows them to launch an attack at a most unpropitious time, during a period of discord within Israel. Saul marches into a hopeless battle at Gilboa, and the Philistine army crushes the Israelites. But even here Saul faithfully fulfills his role as monarch: He battles valiantly and is not afraid to die; his only fear is that the kingdom’s honor and the people’s morale will suffer. And rather than face disgrace at the hands of the Philistines, he chooses to fall on his own sword, thereby fulfilling what natural morality demands of a worthy king: Despite his many mistakes, to the end he acts courageously and with boundless devotion to his nation.
During the First Temple period, descriptions of the deeds performed in pursuit of righteousness—what the rabbis describe as “honor to him who adopts it”129—were collected in The Book of the Righteous, a record of the honorable and heroic acts of Israel, most likely written in the style of ancient Hebrew poetry. This book has not survived, other than a single significant passage that is quoted in the book of Samuel.130 This is David’s lament over the deaths of Saul and Jonathan, arguably the most sublime expression of biblical righteousness. Among biblical texts, this poem is exceptional in that it contains no address to the Creator, nor reference to the Tora: It is an entirely human lament over the courageous deeds of Saul and Jonathan for their people. A sort of three-thousand-year-old precursor to the “Song of Comradeship” of modern Israel’s Palmach fighters, its purpose is simply stated: “And David intoned this dirge over Saul and his son Jonathan. He ordered that the Judeans be taught the bow—it is recorded in The Book of Righteousness.”131
David bewails a flesh-and-blood king whose deeds do not merit God’s blessing because of his sins against heaven. Still, he is worthy of being extolled for his contribution to the nation, as one who brought the state into being and devoted most of his life to strengthening and defending it. This lament teaches both of Saul’s heroism on behalf of Israel, and of his errors, to serve as a lesson in political leadership for the future—“that the Judeans be taught the bow”:
Your glory, O Israel, lies slain on your heights;
How have the mighty fallen!
Tell it not in Gath, do not proclaim it in the streets of Ashkelon,
Lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised exult.
O hills of Gilboa—
Let there be no dew or rain on you, or bountiful fields,
For there the shield of warriors lay rejected, the shield of Saul, polished with oil no more.
From the blood of slain, from the fat of warriors—
The bow of Jonathan never turned back;
The sword of Saul never withdrew empty.
Saul and Jonathan, beloved and cherished,
Never parted in life or in death!
They were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions!
Daughters of Israel, weep over Saul,
Who clothed you in crimson and finery, who decked your robes with jewels of gold.
How have the mighty fallen in the thick of battle—
Jonathan, slain on your heights!
I grieve for you, my brother Jonathan,
You were most dear to me.
Your love was more wonderful to me than the love of women.
How have the mighty fallen, the weapons of war perished!132
VI. A Land without Soil
The biblical idea of “righteousness” denoted more than a standard of moral behavior. It assumed an entire cultural, social and national reality in which the Israelites lived as a sovereign nation in the land of their forefathers. As this reality weakened following the destruction of the First Temple, the term became increasingly irrelevant. During the Second Temple period, the land of Israel was still the center of Jewish life, yet this was already an attenuated national existence, characterized by a growing diaspora and significant limitations upon political and cultural independence. Even the autonomy under the Hasmoneans was limited and problematic. And after the fall of the Second Temple, the experience of exile came to dominate Jewish culture and society. In the words of R. Abraham Ibn Ezra, in his enigmatic poem “A Land without Soil”: “If the king is desolate, no soul shall live.”133
At the time of the Mishna, the term “righteousness” was still employed with its biblical meaning, at least by some rabbis. For example, “Rabbi says: What is the righteous course that a man should choose for himself? That which brings honor to him who adopts it, and brings him honor from men.”134 This dictum preserves the term’s original sense of that which springs from man without explicit external guidance, and meets the moral criteria on which the world is based—and is therefore something which brings honor to the Creator as well. Such a statement could easily have been made about a number of the Israelite kings, such as Saul and Jehu.




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