I’m trying to get through the two books of Maccabees for the holiday season. I’ve read them before, and I’ve always liked the second book better than the first. The second book has a lot of miracles directly performed by God, whereas the first portrays the will of God unfolding through the acts of the Maccabean army. Which means that the first book is very Game of Thrones-esque, because it’s the story of a war. With all the pillaging, burning, and mass slaughter that war entails. The most heinous acts are reserved for the Seleucids (King Demetrius kills his 11 year old nephew in order to get the crown), but the author doesn’t shy away from the massacres and the court intrigues that the Maccabees participate in, either. A very important part of history, but not something I usually read with the expectation of finding a spiritual truth within. But now I’m thinking maybe that was my pride talking, because it is Scripture, after all, isn’t it? I should be able to get something out of it, even if it makes me a little uncomfortable personally. Ironically, having just read the first eight chapters again yesterday and today, I think that the theme of pride comes up a lot more than I remembered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The book opens with Alexander the Great, and the author recounts his exploits, “advanc[ing] to the ends of the earth” and “putting kings to death.” But over the course of his campaigns, Alexander became arrogant (literally, “his heart was lifted up,” ἐπήρθη ἡ καρδία), and ultimately for naught; he died. And when he died, his officers “all put on royal crowns, and so did their sons after them for many years, causing much distress over the earth.” (1:9). Once the revolt starts, Judas Maccabeus and his brothers are contrasted with Joseph and Azariah, two other generals in the rebellion. Judas places the goal of liberating Israel above all else, even refusing to allow his men to plunder the enemy until after they pursue the enemy army further (4:16-18). And through this process, Judas is very, very successful. So successful, in fact, that when Joseph and Azariah hear the news, they decide “Let us also make a name for ourselves by going out and fighting against the gentiles” (4:57). Whereas Judas subordinates his needs and desires to the intention of liberating Israel (the motivation behind the controversial cherem of the Deuteronomic works), Joseph and Azariah are seeking self-glorification. And then they promptly lose, causing the deaths of two thousand Israelites. We see this again with Eleazar Avaran, who sees a massive war elephant during a battle and, assuming that the king must be riding on top of it, “gave up his life to save his people and win an everlasting name for himself” (6:43-46). We have mixed intentions here; and Avaran does end up making a name for himself (we’re reading about it, after all), but the king isn’t even on the elephant that he kills and is crushed by in the process. A heroic act? Definitely, as worthy as any shahīd’s. But it didn’t do anything to ultimately stop the war. And, of course, we have Nicanor, the general who believes he could flout the religion of his enemies. He has no problem spitting at the Jewish priests subordinate to him (7:34), he is called a blasphemer by both the subject priests and his enemy Judas (7:38, 7:41-42), and lifted his right arm up “arrogantly / ὑπερήφανος” (7:47). His fate is sealed in battle, and his head and right arm are cut off and put on display in Jerusalem. There was actually a brief practice of celebrating a holiday in memory of the end to Nicanor’s arrogance, which was situated the day before Purim (the day celebrating the events of the Book of Esther). Now, chapter 8 gives us a mirrored image of the gentile Greeks in the form of the gentile Romans. 1 Maccabees paints the Romans in a very good light, and that’s probably part of the reason it was ultimately not accepted into the Rabbinic canon. Like their description of the Maccabees, the author doesn’t shy away from the power and military might of the Roman state. He does not sugar coat their conquest of Spain, and he is very pleased with the savagery the Romans perform when coming to the aid of their allies. But, curiously, there is something else that grabs the author’s attention: “Yet, with all this, none of [the Romans] put on a crown or wore purple as a display of grandeur” (8:14). Whereas Alexander became proud with his conquests, the leaders of Rome (still then a republic) did not. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It seems like the First Book of Maccabees has a lot to say about pride and personal glory. The author of this work writes of war as a simple fact of life (though, now that I’m writing this, I’m thinking that this could have been avoided if Alexander didn’t try to create an empire), but he is also very interested in the motivations of those who engage in war. Those who enter for the sake of worldly glory experience the fate mentioned in a poem that appears very early in the work: “Do not fear the words of sinners, for their glory ends in corruption and worms” (2:62). Anyway, thanks for reading my book report
