This issue turned up in one of my social media conversations, and I think it deserves a bit more explanation, so I’ll do that here. I mentioned that while our rabbinic ancestors did everything possible to deny it, in fact crucifixion was practiced by Judean authorities, and a similar form of execution might even be sanctioned by the Torah.
Josephus reports regarding the Hasmonean king Alexander Janaeus, Antiquities 13:379-80:
Alexander thereupon fled to the mountains,Alexander Jannaeus’ excessive cruelty toward the Jews. where out of pity for him at this reverse six thousand Jews gathered to his side. And at this Demetrius withdrew in alarm. But later on the Jews fought against Alexander and were defeated, many of them dying in battle. The most powerful of them, however, he shut up and besieged in the city of Bethoma, and after taking the city and getting them into his power, he brought them back to Jerusalem; and there he did a thing that was as cruel as could be: while he feasted with his concubines in a conspicuous place, he ordered some eight hundred of the Jews to be crucified, and slaughtered their children and wives before the eyes of the still living wretches. (Translated by H. St. J. Thackeray, Loeb Edition)
The word Thackeray translates as “crucified” is the Greek ἀνασταυρῶσαι, the same word the Christian Bible uses to
describe the fate of Jesus: Mark 15:13, 14; Matthew 27:22; Luke 23:21; John 19:10, etc.
Alexander Janaeus was the king during a brief era when the Judaeans had independent control over their territory, but he was cognizant of Roman power and authority. His reign lasted from 103 BCE to 76 BCE. I think it unlikely that it was a coincidence that he chose the Roman method of execution to deal with his enemies. And for those who might not understand this, crucifixion is very simply hanging a person on a pole and leaving them there until they die.
The case of the Torah is perhaps even more interesting. As is well known, the Torah imposes capital punishment for all sorts of infractions, and lauds those who are zealous to carry it out. Four methods of capital punishment are listed in the first four books of the Torah: stoning, burning, strangulation and beheading. The book of Deuteronomy has several
issues where it differs somewhat from similar representations in the first four books of the Torah. Probably the best known of these is within the Ten Commandments, where Exodus demands observance of the Sabbath using the verb shamar (“keep”) while Deuteronomy’s version uses the verb zakhar (“remember”). In the sixteenth century, the Kabbalist poet Shlomo haLevi Alkabetz composed a hymn whose opening line is Shamor v’zakhor b’dibur ehad, “(God uttered) keep and remember with one breath.”
Deuteronomy lists many infractions for which the death penalty is imposed, but intriguingly only one method of execution, which is different from those cited in the other books of the Torah. The key verses are Deut 21:22-23. Here is the translation of those two verses according to the New Revised Standard Version (NRS):
22 When someone is convicted of a crime punishable by death and is executed, and you hang him on a tree, 23 his corpse must not remain all night upon the tree; you shall bury him that same day, for anyone hung on a tree is under God’s curse. You must not defile the land that the LORD your God is giving you for possession.
The various English versions of Deuteronomy all finesse the form of execution by suggesting that this refers to hanging a corpse on a tree after execution, presumably by one of the four methods specified elsewhere. The
one outlier is the translation of the Jewish Publication Society (JPS Tanakh):
22 If a man is guilty of a capital offense and is put to death, and you impale him on a stake,23 you must not let his
corpse remain on the stake overnight, but must bury him the same day. For an impaled body is an affront to God: you shall not defile the land that the LORD your God is giving you to possess.
What is going on here? Here, the translators seem to be suggesting that this is a fifth form of capital punishment, death by impaling. The Hebrew term is derived from the root taf.lamed.heh which normally means “hang.” There are a few mentions of hanging corpses in Esther the discussion of which I will defer to another day. The most recent scholarly lexicon, Koehler-Baumgartner states: “In Egypt only to impale is attested” (s.v. taf.lamed.heh, 2c.) The Tanakh
translators, alone among the many I examined, prefer “impale” to “hang.”
I suggest that the editors of the Tanakh are doing what they can to distance this understanding of the Hebrew verb from any connection to crucifixion. But let me add another note from Koehler-Baumgartner: “…the practice may also have been used on rare occasions in order to put someone to death; and this then brings up the question of impalement used as a means of punishment.” (ibid, s.v. para 2b)
I doubt Alexander Janneus cared much about the details that would occupy our sages a few centuries later, I would hazard the guess that he thought crucifixion was just fine as a method of execution.
The rabbis who succeeded the Hasmonean authorities after the loss of the Temple lived in a period when Jews were being blamed for the execution of Jesus. It is therefore unsurprising that they would do everything in their power to distance Judaism from crucifixion. Indeed, the rabbincal texts show a propensity to minimize the use of capital punishment. They decreed almost impossible standards for its imposition and by that tried to suggest it had always been rare among Israelites.
The rabbis had every reason to despise the Hasmoneans. In their view, the Hasmoneans were usurpers of the Davidic throne. The best explanation for the eight day celebration of Hanukkah is that it was the attempt of the Hasmoneans to elevate themselves to the same level as Solomon’s dedication of the First Temple. It takes a little digging, but Solomon also had an eight day dedication. 1 Kings 8:65 says, “So Solomon and all Israel with him — a great assemblage, coming from Lebo-hamath to the Wadi of Egypt — observed the Feast at that time before the LORD our God, seven days and again seven days, fourteen days in all.” That’s a bit confusing—was it seven days or
fourteen days? But then, look at the next verse: “On the eighth day he let the people go. They bade the king good-bye and went to their homes, joyful and glad of heart over all the goodness that the LORD had shown to His servant
David and His people Israel.” (Both quotation NJPS, emphasis mine.)
The rabbis responded with the tale of the miraculous oil. The miracle was not that the nasty Maccabees/Hasmoneans had an eight-day festival, it was that God provided oil for those eight days. In fact, the rabbis reported
practically none of the Maccabean history in their sources. They ignored the books of Maccabees that Christians added to their Bible. When they mentioned royal authority figures, they often ridiculed them.
So where does the modern religion of Judaism get the tales of the Maccabees? Centuries after the close of the period of the Talmud, at the height of the Middle Ages, an Italian Jew realized that it would be good to find a way to celebrate the military strength of Israel. He took the books of Josephus, War and Antiquities, translated them into Hebrew, and slapped in a few stories from the rabbinic Midrashic literature thus creating Sefer Yossipon—the book of Joseph. The book became very popular and from that point on, Hanukkah took on that added dimension of military prowess. The hymn Ma’oz Tzur owes more to Yossipon than to anything in the rabbinic sources.
My friends often wonder why, if the rabbis so despised the Maccabees, that I love the holiday of Hanukkah. It is precisely because Hanukkah so well illustrates the incredibly intricate story of the passage of our people through
history. That is also, in my opinion, the beauty of our Hebrew Bible. These books all recognize that truth is not simple. The people that some people consider heroes, other people consider murderers. Remember what David did to
Uriah the Hittite! As I see it, the beauty of our faith is not childish simplicity, but the complexity of the real world.
I want to wish all my friends the most joyous of winter holidays. Hag Urim Same’ah!