Review: “The Making of the Tabernacle and the Construction of Priestly Hegemony” by Nathan MacDonald

Nathan MacDonald. The Making of the Tabernacle and the Construction of Priestly Hegemony. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2023.

In The Making of the Tabernacle and the Construction of Priestly Hegemony, Nathan MacDonald examines how the Pentateuch, especially the Priestly material, evinces a social hierarchy. In particular, he shows how different textual layers and connections evince that scribes carefully negotiated priestly power and authority through key Pentateuchal portions. He opens the introduction with his driving question: “How did the high priesthood go from being an important, but subordinate, office in the kingdom of Judah to being the principal source of authority” (1)? While scholars have sought to explain the priesthood development via other evidence in the late Persian and early Hellenistic periods, MacDonald argues such explanations are inadequate. So, he examines what he calls some of the most overlooked texts relevant to the priestly power: “the tabernacle and ordination accounts of Exod 25–31, 35–40 and Lev 8–10” (4). These texts are relevant because they reflect key developments during the Persian period and thus contribute “to our understanding of how ideological justification for the high priesthood’s supremacy developed” (4). As such, the book aims to explain why the priesthood had such supremacy in the early Hellenistic period.

In Chapter One, MacDonald examines four versions of the tabernacle account (Masoretic, Samaritan, Old Greek, and Old Latin). Through his examination, he identifies “complex textual problem[s]” (40). Subsequent chapters aim to explain these difficulties, especially how “the tabernacle’s architecture led to significant reshaping of the text” (40). In Chapter Two, MacDonald considers the textual history of the tabernacle account as recorded in the major textual traditions (Masoretic, Samaritan, Old Greek, and Old Latin): the Old Greek and Old Latin are the earlier versions and stem from a common ancestor in the Second Temple period; the Masoretic text shifts away from the Old Greek and Old Latin with a focus on “the sanctity of the sanctuary and its furniture” (65), alignment with instructions to Moses, and a standardized listing of items; the Samaritan text, being the latest, continues in a trajectory similar to the Masoretic text but with a focus on the Urim/Thummim and incense altar. Ultimately, though, DSS 4Q17 indicates that the tabernacle account was finished as early as the third century BCE. In Chapter Three, MacDonald carefully details the composition history of the tabernacle account in Exodus. As MacDonald observes, “the history of composition was rarely worked out in detail” (97). Although this review will not recount each of the nine steps MacDonald details, it is worth noting that each of these steps involves “the growth of the priestly literature” (98). More importantly for MacDonald, this growth “reveals shifting representations of the individuals and groups involved in the construction and rituals of the tabernacles” and “suggests a complex process of negotiation about the structure of the ideal theocratic society within Second Temple priestly circles” (98). On these grounds, namely, a detailed analysis of the tabernacle account’s textual history and the various tensions the analysis evinces, MacDonald concludes Part I and shifts to Part II in order to explore the competing social structures in more detail.

In Chapter 4, MacDonald argues that “the central focus of the original priestly writer,” the Grundschrift, “is on Aaron” (102). In the Grundschrift, the fabrication of Aaron’s vestments indexes with the materials of the tabernacle, thereby indicating that Aaron is made part of the sanctuary. To this end, Aaron represents the priesthood in a textual version wherein subordinate priests and Aaron’s sons were not participants. Similarly, the Grundschrift represents the emergence of people and priesthood as significant political entities” in the post-monarchic era. In Chapter 5, MacDonald examines “how the original priestly instructions for the tabernacle were harmonized with the instructions for the performance of the great atonement ritual in Lev 16” (151). This harmonization process involved new vestments and new furniture in sacred space. Such a division engendered a complex hierarchy between the high priest, priesthood, and ordinary Israelites. These revisions and literary developments, MacDonald argues, “elevate the priesthood’s status within Judaism” and “suggest some tentative steps towards appropriating some royal symbolism and prerogatives” by envisioning the high priest as achieving atonement and representing Israel (152). Chapter 6 wraps up Part II of the book by focusing on the craftsmen and community. Here, MacDonald attends to the hierarchy that Exodus 25–31 creates among the craftsmen and community, including, though not limited to, the master craftsmen (Bezalel and Oholiab), Israelite artisans, leaders, Levites, the Priesthood, Aaron, Moses, Israelite men, and Israelite women. In this literary world, Exodus provides “a justification for the prominence of the Second Temple and its priesthood” by showing how the hierarchy centers around the priesthood, even corralling “the royal tribe of Judah . . . into these efforts” (183).

Part III focuses on the recapitulation of the priestly ordination through the Priestly material in order to show how the textual history reflects social hierarchal developments. In particular, Part III considers how the ordination ritual transforms “from a one-day rite into a seven-day consecration ritual that concludes with an inauguration ritual on the eighth day” (212). In Chapter 7, MacDonald explores how the various priestly ordination rituals develop in such a way as to refine the hierarchical distinctions between the high priest and the priesthood. In particular, he examines Exodus 29, Leviticus 8, Leviticus 9, and Leviticus 16 and the complex interpretive interplay that engendered the text’s current form. Through this process, the ordination, consecration, and inauguration rituals forge a social hierarchy wherein the priesthood is indexed with the tabernacle, Aaron is anointed twice to signify social prestige, and the average person acts as an observer who brings gifts but is distinctly not a priest. In Chapter 8, MacDonald argues that Leviticus 9–10 is a compositional whole wherein, fitting with the theme of this monograph, the narrative affirms Aaron’s preeminence and superiority as a high priest over and against other priests. In Chapter 9, MacDonald considers how Numbers 7–10  and Exodus 24 are ordination rituals derived from the others. Numbers 7–10 comes “with a focus on the leaders and the Levites,” and Exodus 24 functions as a preface to the Sinai narrative, providing “an interpretive lens for the tabernacle account that follows in subsequent chapters” (240).

Through this volume, MacDonald walks through how the textual growth of the priestly material’s tabernacle account reflects attempts to construct narratives that rearticulate or reaffirm social hierarchies in distinct ways. Notably, his brief discussion of scribal illustrations in things like Codex Amiatinus indicates that others “rightly perceived priesthood, power, and writing [as being] tightly bound together” (274). MacDonald helpfully wraps up the monograph with a succinct statement that links his analyses of hierarchy in the tabernacle account and extant versions to the broader sociopolitical situation: “The original priestly document of the early Persian period created an ideal sanctuary in the desert safe from imperial aggression and human failure, by the end of the Persian period the extant versions of the Pentateuch portray an ideal community without an imperial governor and with the high priest at its apex. The conditions for the high priest’s assumption of coercive power were firmly established” (274).

My primary critique is that I would have liked to see a more thorough argument as to why MacDonald’s approach is more helpful than, for example, the approach Nathan Mastnjak advocates for in his recent Before the Scrolls. In Before the Scrolls, Mastnjak argues that by attending to biblical texts’ materiality and being aware of how the conceptual category of book history shapes our critical questions, we ought to “imagine a much looser assemblage of textual objects,” “a shelf . . . full of scrolls, sheets, and scraps” (Before the Scrolls, 224). In the context of MacDonald’s argument, this would shift the discussion away from “how to account for the differences” and potentially yield different results. For example, in Chapter 3, MacDonald observes, “It seems virtually certain that the account of the making of the bronze altar is late for it presupposed the story of Korah from Num 16–17, which is recognized as a very late element within the priestly material of Numbers” (89). By reframing this observation through Mastnjak’s lens, we might say instead that the story of Korah, while late within the priestly material of numbers, may still have existed as a separate scroll or scrap. As such, that an individual may have been familiar with the narrative without the narrative itself being in the particular textual collection is a distinct possibility. In this particular case, then, using Mastnjak’s approach suggests that the late appending of the bronze altar (on account that it presupposed the Korah narrative) could easily be flipped: the bronze altar was part of the Greek text and Old Latin, and scribes eventually added the narrative of Korah, which was floating around as a separate sheet and scrap. This sort of approach has the potential to challenge many of MacDonald’s claims.

Admittedly, this critique has three limitations. First, since MacDonald wrote this book, not me, I cannot articulate precisely how it might impact his arguments. That said, I suspect his overall argument could remain, albeit with additional nuance. Second, Mastnjak’s work was published around the same time as MacDonald’s work. So, this critique is less about MacDonald missing something in his analysis and is more about considering a potentially fruitful direction of study. Third, even MacDonald prefaces his book with a comment on the approach and model that he uses: “The model I propose is coordinated with contemporary models . . . . It is worth noting that a model is precisely that: a model. It is a sketch of developments that seeks to account for the extant evidence . . . . As I have argued elsewhere, literary-critical models are ‘good to think with.’ They seek to explain certain features of the text and focus attention on details that are easily overlooked in a synchronic reading. The end of such a model is not the model itself, or some putative original document, but understanding the extant forms of the text and the processes that led to them”(10–11).

Second, and this is more of an anecdotal note, MacDonald comments regarding Bezalel and Oholiab and Moses’s lack of a role: “Throughout the instruction, the reader of Exodus is justified in expecting that Moses will take the leading role in constructing the tabernacle [on account of the 2MS verbs]. Those expectations are dramatically overturned in Exod 31 when God informs Moses that he has called Bezalel and Oholiab. As I have demonstrated there can be little doubt that Bezalel and Oholiab’s involvement is a secondary development and that the tabernacle was originally presented as Moses’ achievement” (165–166, italics added for emphasis). Here, such a comment reflects a broader assumption about project management. As some folks may be aware, I work as a proposal writer and coordinator as a day job. In this role, I frequently help teams write proposals. Notably, these proposals typically come from a manager saying to a single person, “Submit a proposal for this opportunity.” Then, the team works on writing the proposal. Finally, the person to whom the manager communicated at the beginning of the process is ascribed as the author of the proposal. I highlight my experience to show that ascribing ownership of a project’s deliverable, in this case constructing the tabernacle, to an individual does not preclude others from supporting and sometimes even leading the effort.

Overall, MacDonald’s careful analyses offer a solid foundation for understanding the tabernacle account as reflecting hierarchical development at a literary level. As with anybody engaging in textual criticism, this volume and MacDonald’s arguments deserve further attention and engagement. As such, this monograph should be a foundational starting point for anybody exploring the tabernacle account or ordination narratives.

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