Mika Ahuvia’s On My Right Michael, On My Left Gabriel: Angels in Ancient Jewish Culture is one of several recent studies examining angels and intermediary beings in the ancient Mediterranean and surrounding areas. Ahuvia seeks to provide needed nuance to our discussion of angels in late antique Judaism by “tackl[ing] the biblical and rabbinic evidence in conversation with neglected sources, thus placing the ‘normative’ sources and authorities in proper perspective” (10). One component of this process is putting amulets and incantation bowls into conversation with the rabbinic tradition. Another is considering which surviving ancient texts scholars have allowed a normative function in the description of ancient Judaism. Two key resulting theses of this careful work are, one, that beliefs about angels are varied and never fully systematized in late antique Judaism and, two, that the rabbinic sources, when read carefully, reveal a process of negotiation between rabbinic understandings of angels and popular practice among ancient Jews.
The first chapter examines Babylonian incantation bowls from the 5th to 7th centuries CE. While some might prefer a stricter chronological arrangement, Ahuvia’s starting point demonstrates her commitment to challenging the use of rabbinic sources as the norm for understanding ancient Judaism. This also allows her to put the focus on voices not normally considered central—including those of ancient Jewish women (10-11)—and on daily life in the ancient world (19). Ahuvia’s analysis of the surviving bowls demonstrates that angels are called upon for a wide variety of protective or supportive purposes. They are treated as ever-present guardians of otherwise inaccessible heavenly beneficence and often called upon in conjunction with other sources of help—God, first and foremost, but also famous Israelite ancestors and even rabbis with reputations for spiritual power (28). Chapter 2 follows a similar procedure for Levantine amulets and the ritual manual of Sefer ha-Razim. Ahuvia notes that surviving amulets show considerable overlap with the incantation bowls from Babylon in terms of formulae and purposes, though angels in Levantine sources are more closely associated with “particular spheres of influence” than in the bowls (54-55). Despite similarities to the bowls, these sources also demonstrate a “shifting attitude” toward angels, from awe at their superior power toward understanding humans as equal or even superior to the angels (77).
Chapters 3 and 4 analyze rabbinic sources, considering early Tannaitic traditions and the later Rabbinic preoccupation with elevating imitation of God over imitation of angels, respectively. The former concludes that early sources sought to prevent behavior that could be considered worship of angels and downplayed the role of angels in key events like the Exodus. The latter suggests that reading between the lines of some rabbinic texts reveals a live debate over whether the image in which humanity was created was that of God or the angels based on the plural subject in Genesis 1:26 (107-108). Ahuvia argues that the rabbis opposed to the latter view foreground Jewish access to God through direct relationship rather than through intermediaries and thus naturally downplay the role of angels. Highlighting imitation of God as the best way to relate to the supernatural realm also directs the faithful to the Jewish Scriptures and allows the rabbis a position of authority in facilitating this relationship (113).
Chapter 5 presents a more nuanced position found in the liturgical poetry of Yannai. These poems often “depic[t] Jews in the midst of a network of relationships featuring angels alongside biblical heroes from Israel’s past,” a feature notably shared by some bowls and amulets (124). They imitate the angelic recitation before the throne as depicted in Isaiah 6 and create a human analogue for that worship. Yannai’s poems, then, assume the overlapping roles of humans and angels in the worship of God and find space for angelic imitation in this respect (134-135).
In chapter 6, Ahuvia uses parallel stories and discussions of subjects in rabbinic sources from different time periods to trace the evolution of ideas about angels in late rabbinic texts (for a clear example see, 144-149). Using this method she explores how the understanding of angels of destruction, the will of angels, and the nature of angels in general evolved over time. These developments also demonstrate that the rabbinic downplaying of angels fades over time under the pressure of popular beliefs. Chapter 7 focuses on Hekhalot literature, a body of diverse mystical texts which appear to be written for the use of small circles of exclusively male mystics (171-176). Like Yannai, these mystics focused on the unity of the angelic and the human in the worship of God. Unlike Yannai, they did not see angels merely as sources of imitation for the endless praise of God, but rather as conduits of access to the heavenly realm, a realm with its own sense of time and place (179). Here appropriate knowledge and practice allows the individual to obtain information given to angels (182-184) or, via a foretaste of eschatological transformation, even command angels (185-189).
This work challenges and problematizes neat presentations of ancient Jewish beliefs about angels by considering together geographically and contextually distinct sources, and by not allowing some sources to disqualify or drown out competing voices. In this respect, Ahuvia’s work is a model for historians. There is, nonetheless, some room for improvement. The very cursory treatment of Hebrew Bible and Second Temple traditions does not adequately address the ways that rabbinic sources reject, omit, or transform prior tradition. It is not unreasonable for the historian to wonder how the later process of rabbinic development posited by Ahuvia might be related to the prior. Two more minor concerns are worth mentioning: religious studies scholars may take issue with her rejection of the term “magic” to describe incantation bowls and amulets based on defining magic as “coercive,” despite sympathy with her point that the pejorative use of this label is often gendered (24-25). Scholars likewise engaged in the current debate over the descriptive usefulness of the term “monotheism” for ancient Judaism and Christianity might be surprised to see a blanket pronouncement that late antique Jews were monotheists alongside explicit discussion of overlaps between Greco-Roman intermediary spirits and Jewish angels.
These issues in no way undermine the accomplishments of the work. Ahuvia not only commands impressive knowledge of a large body of texts and artifacts and related secondary literature, but also manages to survey this expansive and diverse collection quite succinctly. Mastering this material is accomplishment enough, but, remarkably, Ahuvia manages to do it without leaving anyone behind. Terms are always defined, arguments are always signposted, and headings are used frequently to ensure that any motivated reader could follow and engage with the book. Perhaps the highest praise I could offer, though, is that this great book has earned a place on the shelf next to Ellen Muehlberger. Given the thoughts this work has provoked, it is a shelf to which I will return.
Jeremiah Bailey is an adjunct lecturer at Baylor University.
Jeremiah Bailey
Date Of Review:
March 28, 2023
