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The Vow-Curse in Ancient Jewish Texts

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  08 July 2019

Avigail Manekin-Bamberger
Avigail Manekin-Bamberger*
Affiliation:
The Hebrew University of Jerusalem
*
email: amanekin@gmail.com
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Abstract

Uttering a vow was an important and popular religious practice in ancient Judaism. It is mentioned frequently in biblical literature, and an entire rabbinic tractate, Nedarim, is devoted to this subject. In this article, I argue that starting from the Second Temple period, alongside the regular use of the vow, vows were also used as an aggressive binding mechanism in interpersonal situations. This practice became so popular that in certain contexts the vow became synonymous with the curse, as in a number of ossuaries in Jerusalem and in the later Aramaic incantation bowls. Moreover, this semantic expansion was not an isolated Jewish phenomenon but echoed both the use of the anathema in the Pauline epistles and contemporary Greco-Roman and Babylonian magical practices.

Keywords

rabbinicsAramaic incantation bowlsSecond Temple literaturePaulDamascus Documentancient magic
Type
Articles
Information
Harvard Theological Review , Volume 112 , Issue 3 , July 2019 , pp. 340 - 357
Copyright
© President and Fellows of Harvard College 2019 

Introduction

Uttering a vow was an important and popular religious practice in ancient Judaism. It is mentioned frequently in biblical literature, and an entire rabbinic tractate, Nedarim, is devoted to the subject. Previous studies on the history of the use of the vow in Jewish tradition have frequently focused on its substantial development, from a mechanism of dedication in the Hebrew Bible to a prohibitive locution in Second Temple and rabbinic literature.Footnote 1 In this article, I will focus on an additional semantic expansion of the ancient vow and on the social contexts in which such vows were used. I will argue that, starting from the Second Temple period, alongside the regular use of the vow, vows were also used as an aggressive binding mechanism in interpersonal situations. This practice became so popular that in certain contexts the vow became synonymous with the curse. Moreover, this semantic expansion was not an isolated Jewish phenomenon but echoed both the use of the anathema in the Pauline epistles and contemporary Greco-Roman and Babylonian magical practices.

The Aggressive Vow in the Second Temple Period

The vow in biblical times served as a declarative promise to sanctify something in return for a favor from God—for example, the vows made by Jacob (Gen 28:20–22) and Jephthah (Judg 11:30–31).Footnote 2 This votive institution differs significantly from the rabbinic prohibitive vow. The prohibitive vow was a declaration that an object was prohibited because it was likened to an offering to God. This prohibition was used either as an ascetic practice or as a means of distancing somebody from oneself.

In Second Temple literature, the vow was closer to the rabbinic prohibitive vow than to the biblical vow, although the exact mechanism of the vow in this period is disputed.Footnote 3 Most discussions center on a passage from the New Testament, Second Temple ossuaries from Jerusalem, and a mention of the vow in the Damascus Document.Footnote 4 In what follows, I hope to demonstrate systematically that in this early period the vow already functions as a harmful speech act used in interpersonal situations.

A. The Vow of the Pharisees in the New Testament

In Mark 7:9–13, Jesus criticizes the Pharisees for favoring their tradition over the commandments of the Lord:

9 Then he said to them, “You have a fine way of rejecting the commandment of God in order to keep your tradition! 10 For Moses said, ‘Honor your father and your mother’; and, ‘Whoever speaks evil of father or mother must surely die.’ 11 But you say that if anyone tells father or mother, ‘Whatever support you might have had from me is Qorban’ (that is, an offering to God)— 12 then you no longer permit doing anything for a father or mother, 13 thus making void the word of God through your tradition that you have handed on. And you do many things like this.”Footnote 5

In this passage, Jesus chastises the Pharisees for distancing their parents by using the vow of the qorban and preferring to fulfill their vow rather than fulfilling their divine obligation to honor their parents. In verse 11 of the original Greek version, there is a transliteration of the Hebrew word qorban (Κορβᾶν) and immediately thereafter a translation to the Greek, “that is a gift” (ὅ ἐστιν Δῶρον). Many scholars have linked the action of the vow mentioned in Mark and the rabbinic vow.Footnote 6 Indeed, the word qorban is one of the substituted names (kinnuyim) for vows in tractate Nedarim: “A person who states ‘qorban,’ ‘like a qorban,’ or ‘Qorban that I will eat for you,’ (it is) forbidden.”7 Scholars are divided on the question of how exactly the Pharisees performed this vow.Footnote 8 Regardless of the understanding of the exact mechanism, there is another issue that has not yet been resolved: Jesus’s reference to the prohibition to curse one’s parents. In verse 10, Jesus cites the prooftexts for his criticism: “Honor your father and your mother” (Exod 20:12) and “Whoever speaks evil of (lit., curses) father or mother must surely die” (Exod 21:17).

While the first verse seems relevant, the prohibition to curse one’s parent is not. George Buchanan has suggested that the passage should be understood in light of an original Pharisaic vow that included a curse that was later omitted.Footnote 9 Ze’ev Falk rejected this reconstruction of the vow, claiming that there was no omitted curse, but rather that the Pharisaic vow was a regular rabbinic vow and the verse emphasizes the breaching of the duty of honoring one’s parent.Footnote 10 Neither opinion can explain the text as it stands: Buchanan needs to supply a vow that is not extant in the text; and Falk diminishes the importance of the curse that appears in the passage. I suggest the following reading of this prooftext: The Pharisaic vow has an intended harmful function in and of itself; therefore, Jesus cites the prohibition to curse. This harmful function is compatible with contemporary uses of the vow in other Second Temple sources and in Greco-Roman curse texts, as we shall presently see.Footnote 11

B. Vows in the Damascus Document

The Damascus Document contains a warning against the use of vows: “The law of donations (נדבות): let no man vow to the altar … let no man sanctify the fo[od of his mouth unto God, for this is] what He said, [‘They hu]nt each other with ḥerem (חרם).”Footnote 12

Scholars have understood the phrase, “let no man sanctify the fo[od of his mouth unto God,” to refer to some sort of prohibitive vow, similar to the rabbinic vow.13 Moshe Benovitz has demonstrated that this prohibition is part of a larger context about donations that are made while engaging in sin (such as donating stolen goods). Benovitz also has noted that the short description in the scroll is similar to Mark 7:9–12. Both passages discuss a vow associated with a prohibition that is employed in order to withhold from someone something which that person deserves.Footnote 14

However, the vow here may have a stronger purpose than just as a means for moral exploitation. The prooftext from Mic 7:2 reads: “The faithful have been swept from the land; not one upright person remains. Everyone lies in wait to shed blood; they hunt each other with ḥerem” (איש את אחיהו יצודו חרם).Footnote 15 In Micah, ḥerem is a kind of net,Footnote 16 but in the scroll the ḥerem is interpreted as “vow.”Footnote 17 The Damascus Document issues a warning against such vows, comparing the action to “hunting” a fellow man, again revealing the vows’ harmful effects. The word ḥerem is interpreted in the scroll as a vow, compatible with the regular meaning of the word in Hebrew, from the Hebrew Bible through Qumran to rabbinic literature. However, it is important to stress that the biblical word ḥerem is connected not only to the act of consecration but also to the action of human destruction and killing.Footnote 18

That the semantic field of vows had expanded to include baleful effects on humans, and that this was appreciated by ancient readers, is clear from the Septuagint. The Hebrew word ḥerem is consistently translated as “anathema” (ἀνάθεμα). The anathema also underwent a similar change, from signifying a votive dedication to a god to functioning as a type of imprecation.Footnote 19 In the Damascus Document, while closely connected to the classical sense of the vow, ḥerem was also read as a harmful action—a notion that may further assist in understanding the semantic expansion and varied functions of the ancient vow.

C. Vow Formulae on Ossuaries from Jerusalem

Qorban formulae on Second Temple ossuaries provide yet another source that attests to the harmful function of the Jewish vow. The first such inscription was found in the Kidron Valley, and it reads: כל די אנש מתהנה בחלתה דה קרבן אלה מן דבגוה. J. T. Milik interpreted the inscription thus: “Whoever re-uses this ossuary, for his benefit, a curse (lit., qorban) of God on behalf of him who is inside it.”Footnote 20 Thus, the word “qorban”—which literally means “offering” and serves as a votive term in this period—should be understood as a curse (“malédiction”). Milik’s translation was later widely criticized, especially for its reading of qorban as a curse. For example, Albert Baumgarten explained that the inscription should be read in light of the rabbinic vow: the person whose remains are in the ossuary dedicated the grave like an offering while he was alive, thus prohibiting anyone from later opening it.Footnote 21 The inscription from the Kidron Valley is also similar to the rabbinic vow, in that the formula contains a condition: if a man benefits from the contents of the grave, it will be as if he desecrated the holy. Subsequently, however, more ossuaries with the word qorban were discovered, and they were not always compatible with the language of the rabbinic vow. One ossuary carries a bilingual inscription: כל אנש מתהנא בה קרבן – כל אש קרבן (Each man that benefits [from] it is a qorban, each man is a qorban). Another states: כל אדם בה קרבן (Each man in it is a qorban).Footnote 22 These inscriptions seem to indicate that the person who violates the grave is himself the qorban, which contradicts the idea that the ossuary and its contents are the qorban. Scholars have suggested either that some element was missing from the formula or that the formula was a shortened one indicating the existence of a longer vow that had been made orally.Footnote 23

If qorban, a regular votive term in this period, had already acquired the meaning of “curse,” this would uphold Milik’s reading, that there is a curse upon the man who opens the ossuary. It would also obviate the need to change the reading of the text and to add something that is not in the original inscription. This reading helps in understanding the bilingual inscription that scholars have struggled with: “Each man that benefits (from) it is a qorban, each man is a qorban.” I suggest the meaning to be that a man who opens and benefits from the ossuary is to be cursed, basing my suggestion on the common curse formulae on Jewish and non-Jewish graves in antiquity, for example, inscriptions from Beth Shearim: “That is buried here Shimon b. Yochanan, and in an oath that every (man) that will open it will die a bad death.”Footnote 24 If the qorban inscription is interpreted as another example of the curse inscriptions regularly found on ancient graves, we may conclude that the qorban-vow itself carried with it the implication of a curse, an implication that echoes contemporary uses of the vow. This reading may be compared to a much later vow-curse that appears on the grave inscription for a young boy from the year 588 CE in the area of Beer Sheva:

Ἀνάθε ¦¦-¦ Μα δὲ ἔστω ἀπο του ¦ π(ατ)ρ(ὸ)ς κ(αι) τοῦ ϒιοῦ κ(αι) τοῦ Ἀγιου Πν(εύματο)ς πᾶς ἀνύ¦γων τὸ μνῆμα τοῦ¦το ἐπειδὴ γέμει.25

Anathema from the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit will be anyone who opens the grave because it is full.

This grave inscription employs the word “anathema” as a curse aimed at a potential grave robber. The curse conforms to the ossuaries in which words of dedication were used as warnings for potential grave robbers, such as: “Each man that benefits (from) it is a qorban, each man is a qorban.” Of course, there is a significant time gap between the various inscriptions; nevertheless, both are Palestinian grave inscriptions using words that initially served as dedications to deter potential grave violators. Understanding these dedications as curse formulae situates them well within the widely attested practice in antiquity of writing curses and warnings on graves.

The Rabbinic Prohibitive Vow

A key difference between the biblical vow and the rabbinic prohibitive vow was that while the former was a declaration of dedication, the latter was a declaration to receive no personal benefit or to prevent others from receiving benefit. Like the Pharisaic vow in Mark, these prohibitive declarations had the power to bind and constrict all people who were mentioned in them. Thus, they possessed the potential to harm others. Although in some cases vows and oaths were used interchangeably in rabbinic literature, for the most part they were each distinct, both in the practices themselves and the contexts in which they were used.Footnote 26 Oaths were used as a binding form of declaration in various contexts (שבועת הביטוי), as well as in the legal sphere (oaths of witnesses, watchmen, orphans, partners, and the like), and they required uttering a holy name. Vows, on the other hand, were used in personal and social contexts, such as ascetic vowsFootnote 27 or separation vows, in which one undertakes not to give benefit to, or receive benefit from, someone else.

Separation vows could be directed at family and friends or at strangers.Footnote 28 When one pronounced a separation vow, all connection between the one making the vow and the object of the vow ceased immediately. Such vows were probably intended to cause distress to the object of the vow. A man could vow to deny his wife the ability to work, have sexual relations, eat his food, adorn herself, enter her father’s house, or go to houses of mourning or feasting.Footnote 29 In these cases, the rabbis lacked the power to annul the vow, but they could, under certain conditions, force such a man to divorce his wife and provide her with her ketubbah. The many laws regarding the use of the vows in various different social contexts attest to the popularity of this practice. The vow was an effective binding social instrument that could be used to segregate, expel, or otherwise control others. Like the Pharisaic vow, the abusive function of the vow was the result of a consecration that was driven not by charity but by a personal desire to harm.

That the vow was used to harm others does not imply that it automatically carried with it the connotation of “curse,” as we will see in the later incantation bowls. However, harm was a primary motivation for those who employed the vow, such that the potential to harm also provides an opportunity (an “opening”), according to the rabbis, for the retraction of the vow:

And Rabbi Meir said, We provide an opening for him from what is written in the Torah and say to him: “If you would have known that you transgressed ‘You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge’ (Lev 19:18) and ‘You shall not hate your brother in your heart’ (Lev 19:17) and ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev 19:18) and ‘that your brother may live with you’ (Lev 25:36); perhaps he will become poor and you cannot provide for him?” And he said: “If I had known it was such, I would not have vowed,” [the vow] is released.Footnote 30

In this passage, the rabbis release someone from a vow by arguing that he would not have made the vow had he been cognizant of obligations toward fellow Israelites, such as not to hate them. The assumption of the Mishnah is that hatred is often the motivation for pronouncing such vows.

The existence in Tannaitic literature of a wide variety of vow terminologies that are not always consistent with the proper vow formula may also attest to the semantic expansion of the vow.Footnote 31 The classic interpretation of the rabbinic vow formula is that a person declares property as likened to an offering, thus forbidding the person who vowed to benefit from it. This interpretation is consistent with part of Mishnah Nedarim and with both Talmuds.Footnote 32 Yet Moshe Benovitz has pointed out that, although the classic way to pronounce such a vow is “Qonam is something upon me,”Footnote 33 most examples from the Mishnah in Nedarim are formulated differently. For example, one common way of uttering a vow is to declare: “Qonam is the wine that I taste” (m. Ned. 8:1).Footnote 34 This formula does not fit the classical interpretation in which the untasted wine is consecrated, as it would make much more sense to formulate the vow thus: “Qonam is this wine upon me.” As a result, Benovitz interprets the majority of these vows as expressions that create specific personal prohibitions, without any real intention to dedicate the object of the vow.Footnote 35 In the case of the wine vow, the prohibition pertains to the wine that the man intends to drink. In other words, the quasi-dedication occurs only when the man actually drinks the wine. Obviously, the digested wine cannot be dedicated to the temple; it serves as a personal binding prohibition that will result in the grave sin of desecration if the vow is abrogated.

Although Benovitz’s solution helps in reading a variety of mishnaic passages, he himself admits that it still does not explain all of the vow formulations in the Mishnah and other rabbinic texts. For example, in a number of passages from Tannaitic literature, there is a vow formula in which a man says to his peer: “Qonam to your home (קונם לביתך) that I will enter.”Footnote 36 This recurrent formula cannot easily be understood, either through the “likening” explanation or through Benovitz’s “personal prohibition” explanation.Footnote 37 In addition, the Mishnah cites qonamot that force their pronouncer to perform some act, for example, to marry or divorce. Such vows do not fit any of the aforementioned explanations.Footnote 38 Mishnah Giṭṭin tells of a man from Sidon who said to his wife: “Qonam if I do not divorce you.”Footnote 39 The man proceeded to divorce his wife, and the rabbis permitted them to remarry each other because of tiqqun ha‘olam.Footnote 40 The use of the qonam here is so unclear that already the anonymous redactor of the Talmud asked, “What is (this) qonam?”—leading to the answer, “All the produce of the world will be prohibited upon me if I do not divorce you.”Footnote 41 In other words, the qonam of the man from Sidon can only be understood by adding a proper formula that prohibits foods on the pronouncer of the vow. J. N. Epstein suggested that the qonam formula in this story may be understood as an oath formula, thus solving the problem of adding to the original text; but this explanation empties the qonam of its customary meaning by rendering it as an oath.Footnote 42

A more plausible solution, both for the case of the man from Sidon and for the formulation of “Qonam to your home,” is to understand the qonam as a type of curse. In pronouncing the words “Qonam if I do not divorce you,” the man from Sidon places upon himself a curse that forces him to divorce his wife.Footnote 43 Similarly, the words “Qonam to your home” signify placing a curse on a home and preventing a man from entering. These meanings may be compared to the use of the anathema in Pauline literature, or to the common rabbinic phrase יבוא עלי, which is used as an abbreviation of a curse formula, usually in order to prove that a statement or action is true.Footnote 44 Such uses are similar to the presence of the qorban vow on certain ossuaries and to the later use of the vow-curse in the incantation bowls. In other words, in popular circles votive terms such as qonam, qorban, or neder may have indicated a binding imprecation that was used in a wide variety of situations, such as against a wife, to ward off grave robbers, and the like.

Of course, this does not mean that all mishnaic vow formulae should be read in this way. The diverse vow formulations in the Mishnah attest first and foremost to the use of specific legal vows in many situations. Alongside the primary dedicatory purpose, however, the vow is also employed as a method to gain coercive power, whether in domestic or wider social contexts, and to inflict harm. That a pious and sacred votive institution could take on a harmful function is not as surprising as it may seem. In the act of uttering a vow, a person consecrates spaces or objects—an act that immediately creates a power hierarchy, for the person who utters the vow de facto controls and constrains other people. Such a vow functions as a sacred dedication when a person stands alone before God, but when another person enters this equation, the vow has the potential for harm. In this, the vow was extremely useful because it gave a person the power to obligate others without the need to utter a holy name.Footnote 45 A person seemingly engaged in piety could realize injurious intentions, as with the vows of the Pharisees or the vows of the husband against his wife in Mishnah Ketubbot. These harmful practices are comparable to other contemporary uses of dedications and vows.

The Vow-Curse in the Pauline Epistles and Archaeological Findings

A. Anathema in Pauline Literature

The Greek word anathema (ἀνάθημα) had a significant semantic evolution, initially referring to a dedication to the gods, then to a curse, and finally to a formal ecclesiastical excommunication.Footnote 46 Here, I wish to note the change in meaning from classical Greek to the later uses in the first centuries CE. In classical Greek, the word anathema meant a votive offering set up in a temple, in accordance with its literal meaning.Footnote 47 The word is widely attested in textual and archaeological evidence alike.Footnote 48 In the Septuagint, anathema (ἀνάθεμα) was the usual translation for the biblical ḥerem.Footnote 49 As I mentioned earlier, the biblical ḥerem had a meaning of devotion or consecration, but it also carried a meaning of total destruction.

In the New Testament, most prominently in the Pauline epistles, anathema is usually translated as “a curse” or “an accursed thing,” a meaning connected with the Septuagint’s translation.Footnote 50 For example, in 1 Cor 16:22 Paul declares: “If anyone does not love the Lord, let that person be anathema [ἤτω ἀνάθεμα].” In other words, according to Paul, the person who does not love Jesus will be “anathema,” generally translated as “cursed.” Further elaboration on the use of the anathema occurs in 1 Cor 12:3: “Therefore I want you to know that no one who is speaking by the Spirit of God says, ‘Jesus be cursed’ (ἀνάθεμα Ἰησοῦς), and no one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord’ (κύριος Ἰησοῦς), except by the Holy Spirit.” This passage contains a prohibition against stating that Jesus is anathema, as opposed to stating that Jesus is the Lord (κύριος), seemingly pointing to the fact that anathema means the opposite of Lord or master—that is, accursed.Footnote 51

B. Vows in Greco-Roman Curse Texts

Yet another source that may attest to the anathema-curse is a first- to second-century CE curse tablet (defixio), found in Megara, Greece. The end of side A uses the verb “anathematize” (ἀναθεματίζομεν), and the curse tablet itself ends with the word “anathema,” which apparently serves as a self-designation of the amulet: “We anathematize [ἀναθεματίζομεν] them—body, spirit, soul, mind, thought, feeling, life, heart—with Hekatean words and Hebrew oaths … We anathematize (?) them … and enroll them for punishments, pain and retribution … the body. Anathema.”Footnote 52

In this curse tablet it is clear that the anathema was employed as a curse not only in canonical writings but also in magic spells. It is worth emphasizing that the word was not just used with a list of other similar verbs; rather, the curse itself was called anathema. Scholars have suggested that this amulet may have had a Jewish background because of the similar use of anathema in the Pauline epistles and the reference to Hebrew oaths (ὁρκίσμασί τε ἁβραικοις).Footnote 53 It is difficult to determine if this is indeed the case, since this defixio also refers to Greek gods. The provenance of the tablet, the province Megara, may in fact suggest a non-Jewish practitioner. Moreover, the threat of “Hebrew oaths” does not necessarily point to a Jewish origin for the defixio but may have been used because of the oaths’ powerful reputation.Footnote 54 Be that as it may, the defixio clearly shows that the anathema functioned as a well-known curse in magical contexts as early as the second century CE. This usage is compatible with the harmful functions of dedications in other Greco-Roman magical texts. For example, Henk Versnel published a curse text from the Temple of Demeter at Knidos, dated to the second to first century BCE:

Artemis dedicates (ἀνιεροῖ) to Demeter and Kore and all the gods with Demeter the person who would not return to me the articles of clothing, the cloak and the stole which I left behind, although I have asked for them back. Let him bring them in person (ἀνενέγκαι[ι] αὐτόϛ) to Demeter, even if it is someone else who has my possessions, let him burn and publicly confess ([πεπρη]μένος ἐξ[αγορεύ]ων) his guilt. But may I be free and innocent of any offense against religion … if I drink and eat with him and come under the same roof with him … Footnote 55

In this curse, Artemis seeks revenge from a person who stole her clothing. She does so by dedicating the thief to Demeter, Kore, and all the other gods, in order for the thief to be punished and confess his guilt. Versnel explains that the dedication of the culprit serves as a curse because the person entered a “provisional taboo situation; he is cursed for the time being and belongs in one way or another under the control of the divine powers of the underworld.”Footnote 56 The curse ends with the accuser’s plea, to be free from sin if she eats or drinks with her adversary. Versnel explains this plea as a fear of “contagion.”Footnote 57 Comparing the judicial prayer to a proper legal vow may render a different reason for this proviso: If the culprit is dedicated to the gods, one cannot benefit from him, and so Artemis is protecting herself from the grave sin of sacrilege.

In addition to dedicating people, some Greco-Roman curse tablets contain dedications of stolen objects in order to achieve similar goals of justice and revenge.Footnote 58 These practices may be compared to the use of vows in Jewish Aramaic incantation bowls.

The Meaning of the Vow in the Aramaic Incantation Bowls

Babylonian incantation bowls, dated to the fifth to seventh centuries CE, were generally intended to protect houses from demons, witchcraft, and malice.Footnote 59 They contain numerous references to vows. Earlier scholarship has not provided the precise meaning for the vow, often attributing the frequent use of vow and oath terminology to the ignorance and confusion of the masses. Saul Lieberman, for example, mentions the bowls as a source for understanding the popular confusion of these practices. He has elaborated on the existence of an entire body of terminology of curses and adjurations that served as substitutes for oaths, including the vow. According to Lieberman:

The verb נדר for swearing was only one of the substitutes used by the people. Actually they resorted to the entire terminology of curses and adjurations in their search of substitutes for oaths…. The rabbis did their utmost to check the irrelevant terminology employed by the people in oaths. They permitted, legalized and encouraged the use of certain substitutes and “handles” of vows and oaths, but they banned and nullified the validity of certain others.Footnote 60

In other words, Lieberman viewed the rabbis as the educators and gatekeepers who resisted the often confused and inconsistent use of vow, oath, curse, and adjuration formulae by the masses. The many different practices mentioned in the incantation bowls supposedly attest to such popular (mis)use.Footnote 61 Yet, an examination of more than a hundred published bowls reveals that the vow and the oath are not confused by the bowl scribes but represent two completely different conventions, each with a specific and unique meaning. The oath is usually written as a verb (משבענא, אומיתי) and is used frequently by the scribe of the bowl in order to adjure demons and combat malice by invoking a holy name.Footnote 62 The vow, in contrast, is usually written as a noun (נידרא) and serves as a distinct subcategory of the curse, as we shall presently see.Footnote 63 This “vow-curse” was a popular imprecation performed by humans against other humans, and it often appears in a list of the injuries from which the client of the bowl seeks protection. These kinds of lists appear in most of the incantation bowls, and although the lists vary from bowl to bowl, they usually have significant similarities. For example:

(1) This mystery is designated for healing Mihrōy son of Gushnay; Pidardukh daughter of Daday, his wife; Bar Shabbetay;Footnote 64 (2) Imma; and Malbonay and Gushnay, the children of Pidardukh. May they be healed by the mercy of heaven, and may they be sealed (3) from all evil destroyers, from demons, from plague spirits,Footnote 65 from dēws, from afflictions, from misfortunes (?), from satans, (4) from evil liliths, both male and female, from all evil sorceries and evil magic acts, from curses and vowsFootnote 66 and accidentsFootnote 67 (5) and spells and afflictions, and from all evil and mighty destroyers, Amen Amen Selah Hallelujah.Footnote 68

Lines 3–5 itemize the injuries and afflictions from which the bowl protects the clients. This list contains various malign elements, including different types of demons and human curses and sorceries. Although the list may seem to consist of a disorderly collection of harmful injuries, it is constructed of pairs and clusters of similar harms and injuries that also frequently appear together in other bowls as well.Footnote 69 One of these common pairs is the vow and the curse (נידרא ולוטתא), which appear together in a similar manner dozens of times.Footnote 70 The existence of this pair suggests a semantic similarity between the two words. At times, the vow contains formulae that attest to its function as a curse, as, for example, in bowl M123:

(1) This amulet that has been made for Imi daughter of Qaqai so that vows, curses and evil speeches, will not come near them…. (6) I adjure you vow, curse and evil speech that are withFootnote 71 Imi, daughter of Qaqai, be it by a roar that roars over its descendants; be it by (7) a slumber that goes out from a mouth; be it from a vow of a gentile or a Jew; be it from a curse of far or close; be it from a curse of a neighbor; or brother and sister; be it by a curse of men or (8) women; be it by a vow fulfilled to male idols and female idols; be it by a vow and a fulfillment of all humans.Footnote 72

Bowl M123 contains various formulae and incantations intended for the protection of Imi, daughter of Qaqai. We can identify two distinct features about the appearance of vows: the vow as the designation of an adjuration (alongside the curse and the evil speech);Footnote 73 and the use of the phrase נידרא דמשלם, “a vow that is being paid/fulfilled.” There are two other, slightly different but parallel bowls that, according to Levene, were written by the same scribe, or at least were produced in the same atelier. In his edition of the bowls, Levene published a synopsis of all three. For our purposes here, I note the relevant differences between two of them, bowls M123 and M138:Footnote 74

The bowls’ scribe switches between the “curse of far or close … curse of a neighbor” and the “vow of a far or a close neighbor”; the scribe also switches between the “curse of a Jew or a gentile” and a “vow of a gentile or a Jew.”Footnote 75 That the words “vow” and “curse” are interchangeable within similar formulae from two duplicate bowls further attests to the close meaning of these two actions.

Although the meaning of the vow is close to that of the curse, the two are not identical. This distinction may be inferred from the formula that at times is attached to the vow—namely, the נידרא דמשלם לפתכרי (a vow that is being fulfilled to an idol), as can be seen in the bowls above. Other bowls have other attestations of the fulfillment of vows to the Jewish God, as in the formula, “They vowed and fulfilled (their vows) to the God of the heavens and the earth.”Footnote 77 The root של״ם, used in the sense of fulfilling a vow, already appears in the Bible, in Deut 23:21 (NRSV): “If you make a vow to the LORD your God, do not postpone fulfilling it” (לא תאחר לשלמו). Similarly, this notion occurs in the Babylonian Talmud tractate Šabbat 32b: “It is taught (in a baraita): Rabbi Nathan says because of the sins of vows, the wife of a man dies, as it is stated: ‘If you lack the means to pay, your bed will be taken from under you’ (Prov 22:27).” This baraita not only connects the vow and its fulfillment but also includes the punishment of death to a man’s wife.Footnote 78 The notion of fulfilling vows to a god in the magic bowls echoes the Greco-Roman magical practices discussed earlier, where a person devotes a named individual or stolen goods to the gods so that they will punish wrongdoers and take revenge. This may be the very same practice of the vow-curse in the magic bowls.

In summary: Based on the following considerations, the vow in the bowls served as a distinct type of curse and is not to be confused with the oath: (a) the frequent presence of the vow in the lists of injuries that the client commissioned the bowl to provide protection from, contrary to the oath, which was used consistently to adjure demons; (b) the proximity to the word לוטתא (curse) in the recurring phrase “a vow and a curse”; and (c) the interchangeability of the word for “vow” with the word for “curse” in the set of duplicate bowls written by the same scribe. The vow in the bowls functions as a distinct subcategory that may have been performed in a certain way that contained some means of dedication to a god. This interpretation accords with the use of the vow in the Syriac and Mandaic bowls,Footnote 79 which suggests that this phenomenon was not unique to Jews.Footnote 80

Conclusion

There are a number of attestations from the Second Temple period onward in which the vow was used as a harmful binding speech act. This function followed from a shift in the contexts in which vows were uttered: a once-intimate expression between a person and that person’s god was eventually also employed as a quasi-dedication for the purpose of controlling another person’s space and objects.

The use of the aggressive and binding vows is reflected in a variety of textual evidence that includes biblical, Second Temple, and rabbinic literature alongside Jewish and non-Jewish grave inscriptions and magical amulets. Some of these uses of the vow can be understood as synonymous with the curse, as in a number of ossuaries in Jerusalem and in the later Aramaic incantation bowls. The popularity of the use of these aggressive vows seems due to the fact that one did not have to contact a specialist or utter a holy name in order to perform them and gain coercive power.

The harmful function of the Jewish vow was not an isolated phenomenon, but paralleled the use of vows and dedications in a number of Greco-Roman curse texts and in the non-Jewish magic bowls. In addition, the semantic expansion of the vow is similar to that of the Greek anathema, which had gradually shifted from a self-imposed religious undertaking to a type of vow-curse in several occurrences in the Pauline epistles and in a magical curse text from the first centuries CE. This case study of the vow is emblematic of the care with which magical practitioners often used precise formulae, and suggests that similar gains may be made by studying other magical formulae in antiquity.

Footnotes

*

I would like to thank Gideon Bohak, Daniel Boyarin, Rivka Elitzur-Leiman, Yair Furstenberg, Sarit Kattan Gribetz, Simcha Gross, Amit Gvaryahu, Shlomo Naeh, Laura Nasrallah, Yakir Paz, Ishay Rosen-Zvi, and the anonymous reviewers of HTR for their helpful comments on various versions of this article.

References

1 For biblical vows, see Tony, W. Cartledge, Vows in the Hebrew Bible and the Ancient Near East (JSOTSup 147; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992Google Scholar); Jacques, Berlinerblau, The Vows and the “Popular Religious Groups” of Ancient Israel: A Philological and Sociological Inquiry (JSOTSup 201; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1996Google Scholar); Yael, Ziegler, Promises to Keep: The Oath in Biblical Narrative (VTSup 120; Leiden: Brill, 2008Google Scholar). For the Second Temple and rabbinic periods, see Albert, I. Baumgarten, “Korban and the Pharisaic Paradosis,” JANESCU 16–17 (1984–1985) 5–17Google Scholar; Moshe, Benovitz, “The Origin and Meaning of the Prohibitive Vow in Second Temple and Tannaitic Literature,” Tarbiz 64 (1995) 203–28Google Scholar (Hebrew); idem, Kol Nidre: Studies in the Development of Rabbinic Votive Institutions (BJS 315; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998).

2 See Cartledge, Vows, 15–18.

3 See, for example, Baumgarten, “Korban and the Paradosis”; Benovitz, Kol Nidre, 9–13, 127–31.

4 Other texts discussed include those of Philo and Josephus; see nn. 7 and 13 below.

5 According to the NRSV, with minor changes. See parallel text in Matt 15:1–5.

6 See Baumgarten, “Korban and the Paradosis,” 13–15. For a detailed summary of previous research, see Benovitz, “Prohibitive Vow,” 210–12 nn. 31–34. See also Joel, Marcus, Mark 1–8: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 27A; repr. London: Yale University Press, 2000) 445Google Scholar; Adela, Yarbo Collins, Mark: A Commentary (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007) 27:352–53Google Scholar.

7 M. Ned. 1:4. Josephus attests to the Jewish usage of the word qorban as an oath (“ὅρκος”); see C. Ap. 1.167; Ant. 4.70–74.

8 Benovitz, “Prohibitive Vow,” 210–17.

9 See George, W. Buchanan, “Some Vows and Oath Formulas in the New Testament,” HTR 58 (1965) 319–26Google Scholar.

10 Ze’ev, W. Falk, “On Talmudic Vows,” HTR 59 (1966) 309–12Google Scholar.

11 In a forthcoming article, Daniel Boyarin proposes another reading of the verse. In ancient sources the verb KBD, “to honor/make heavy,” is interpreted as to provide for one’s parents in their old age. The verb QLL, “to curse/make light,” a semantic opposition to KBD, should therefore be understood as doing the opposite. Thus, the verse, “Whoever curses their father or mother,” fits the context of Jesus’s criticism of the Pharisees who do not provide for their parents as they are obligated. (Daniel Boyarin, “Jesus, the Pharisees and the Oral Law,” Tedua 31: Aharon Shemesh Memorial Volume [forthcoming; Hebrew]; I would like to thank Prof. Boyarin for sharing his paper with me prior to its publication.)

12 See Baumgarten, J. M., Qumran Cave 4.XIII: The Damascus Document (4Q266–273) (DJD XVIII; Oxford: Clarendon, 1996) 178–79Google Scholar. Square brackets mark lacunae in the Qumran text with additions according to the genizah. I have modified the translation for the sake of consistency.

13 See Benovitz, “Prohibitive Vow,” 219–21 n. 65. Cf. Philo, Hypoth. 7.3–5: “Each individual is master of his possessions unless he has solemnly named the name of God over them declaring that he has given them to God…. If a man has devoted his wife’s sustenance to a sacred purpose he must refrain from giving her that sustenance; so with a father’s gift to his son or a ruler to his subjects.”

14 See Benovitz, “Prohibitive Vow,” 220–21.

15 In the Damascus Document, the verse is quoted with רעהו, different from the Masoretic version, אחיהו.

16 See Ezek 32:3: “I will throw my net over you; and I will haul you up in my dragnet.”

17 Cf. Tannaitic literature where the word “ḥerem” is used similarly to “qorban”: for example, m. Ned. 2:5, 5:4; t. Ned. 5: 5.

18 See Arie, Versluis, “Devotion and/or Destruction? The Meaning and Function of חרם in the Old Testament,” ZAW 128 (2016) 233–46Google Scholar; Ishay, Rosen-Zvi, “Rereading Herem: Destruction of Idolatry in Tannaitic Literature,” in The Gift of the Land and the Fate of the Canaanites in Jewish Thought (ed. Katell, Berthelot, Joseph, E. David, and Marc, Hirshman; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014) 50–65Google Scholar.

19 See more below, in the section on the vow-curse in the Pauline epistles and archaeological findings.

20 Milik, J. T., “Trois tombeaux juifs récemment découverts au Sud-Est de Jérusalem,” SBFLA 7 (1956–1957) 232–39Google Scholar.

21 See Baumgarten, “Korban and the Paradosis,” 7. See also Benovitz, “Prohibitive Vow,” 218; Ya’akov, Billig, “An Ossuary from Jerusalem Bearing Korban Inscriptions,” Cathedra 98 (2000) 49–60Google Scholar (Hebrew).

22 For a summary of the qorban inscriptions and their interpretations, see Boaz Zissu and Amir Ganor, “A New ‘Qorban’ Inscription on an Ossuary from Jerusalem,” Cathedra 123 (2007) 5–12 (Hebrew).

23 Billig claimed that the ossuary from Arnona should be read in a similar way to the ossuary from the Kidron Valley, meaning that the particle dy was omitted (Billig, “Ossuary from Jerusalem,” 55 n. 24). As Benovitz rightfully points out, this explanation is unlikely, since, among other things, the inscription is bilingual. As a result, Benovitz reads the inscription as a shortened formula stating that there was a vow that was preformed orally (Benovitz, , “The Korban Vow and the Ossuary Inscription from the Arnona Neighborhood in Jerusalem,” Cathedra 104 [2002] 179Google Scholar) [Hebrew]).

24 See Nahman, Avigad, Beth She’arim (3 vols.; New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1971) 3:233–34Google Scholar. For a summary of scholarship on the subject of the use of curses on graves, see Billig, “Ossuary from Jerusalem,” 56 n. 33.

25 Abel, M., “Nouvelles inscriptions grecques de Bersabée,” RB 1.2 (1904) 266–70Google Scholar; Eve Miriam Davies, “From Womb to the Tomb: The Byzantine Life Course 518–1024 AD” (PhD diss., University of Birmingham, 2013) 341.

26 On the popular origin of various oaths and vow formulations, see Saul, Lieberman, Greek in Jewish Palestine: Studies in the Life and Manners of Jewish Palestine in the II–IV Centuries CE (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1942) 115–41Google Scholar.

27 For personal ascetic vows, see chs. 6 and 8 of m. Ned. (and t. Ned. 3:1–4:3).

28 See m. Ned. 3:6–11.

29 See m. Ket. 5:4–5; 7:1–5. On these practices, see Ishay, Rosen-Zvi, “Mishnah Ketubbot Chap. 7: The Tannaitic Conceptualization of Marriage,” Dinei Israel 26 (2010) 92–106Google Scholar (Hebrew).

30 M. Ned. 9:4.

31 For the origin and meaning of the variety of votive formulae in the Mishnah, see Moshe, Benovitz, “Substitute Vow Formulae,” Sidra 12 (1996) 5–25Google Scholar (Hebrew).

32 See m. Ned. 1:3–4, 2:1; b. Ned. 14a; and y. Ned. 1:4 (37a). See also Hanoch, Albeck, introduction to Tractate Nedarim, in The Mishnah, Seder Nashim (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1958Google Scholar).

33 For example, m. Ned. 7:6: “Qonam this produce [lit., fruit] upon me”; i.e., the produce is like an offering for the person who pronounced the vow and he may not taste it.

34 Cf. “Qonam is that which I benefit from you” (m. Ned. 7:9).

35 Benovitz, Kol Nidre, 13–16.

36 See m. Ned. 5:3, 8:7, 9:2-3; t. Ned. 4:8–9.

37 Benovitz, Kol Nidre, 15 n. 30.

38 M. Ned. 9:3; m. Giṭ. 4:7.

39 See Epstein, J. N., Introduction to the Mishnaic Text (3rd ed.; Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2000) 500Google Scholar (Hebrew).

40 M. Giṭ. 4:7.

41 In the printed edition and in MS Vatican 140, the answer is brought in the name of Rav Hunna. In contrast, MS Vatican 130 and Munich 95 bring the answer anonymously.

42 See Epstein, Introduction, 500 n. 2.

43 This conclusion may be connected to J. N Epstein’s interpretation of the origin of the word “qonam.” According to Epstein, qonam is a Phoenician loanword, meaning “to adjure,” as is seemingly attested in the Ashmenezer inscription (Epstein, J. N., “On the Language of Nezirut,” in Sefer Magnes [ed. Epstein, J. N. et al.; Jerusalem: Hebrew University, 1938] 10Google Scholar [Hebrew]). Benovitz has argued convincingly that this interpretation is highly unlikely, since there is no other attestation of such a usage in Phoenician. And even in the Ashmenezer inscription itself, the meaning is probably not an adjuration, since it does not fit the expected syntax; rather, the meaning is “whoever,” as most scholars of Phoenician suggest. Benovitz suggests that the origin of the word qonam is from the Greek κοινός, meaning “common” or “shared” (Benovitz, “Substitute Vow Formulae,” 5–25).

44 This phrase is very common in the Palestinian Talmud and the various midrashim: for example, y. Šeb. 7:1, 38d; y. Yoma 1:1, 38d; y. Mo‘ed Qaṭ. 3:7, 83c. Regarding this phrase, see Lieberman, Greek in Jewish Palestine, 121–23.

45 The tremendous power of vows may explain why the rabbis institutionalized their own ability to annul them. See Mira Balberg’s argument regarding the minimization of vows that a husband may annul for his wife against the backdrop of this rabbinic institution (Mira Balberg, “ ‘The Vows That He Annuls’: The Definition and Classification of Annullable Vows in Rabbinic Literature” [MA thesis, Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 2005] 14–20).

46 For further reading and references, see J. Behm, “ἀνάθεμα,” TDNT 1:356–57; Katell, Berthelot, “The Notion of Anathema in Ancient Jewish Literature Written in Greek,” in The Reception of Septuagint Words in Jewish-Hellenistic and Christian Literature (ed. Eberhard, Bons, Ralph, Brucker, and Jan, Joosten; WUNT 2/367; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014) 35–52Google Scholar; David, Martinez, “‘May She Neither Eat nor Drink’: Love Magic and Vows of Abstinence,” in Ancient Magic and Ritual Power (ed. Marvin, Meyer and Paul, Mirecki; Religions in the Graeco-Roman World, 129; Leiden: Brill 1995) 335–59Google Scholar; Benovitz, Kol Nidre, 87–107.

47 LSJ, s.v. “anathēma.”

48 See Berthelot, “Notion of Anathema,” 36–40.

49 Berthelot comments that there is no significant meaning for the difference in spelling (ἀνάθεμα or ἀνάθημα), as both forms are found in each period (ibid., 40–46).

50 See Behm, “ἀνάθεμα”; Berthelot, “Notion of Anathema,” 52.

51 For other occurrences, see Behm, “ἀνάθεμα,” 1:356. Benovitz argues that the accepted translation of anathema as a curse is erroneous and that the correct translation should be akin to the rabbinic prohibitive vow, namely, ḥerem. Benovitz explains the quoted verse from 1 Cor 12:3 accordingly: “Anyone who tries to force Jesus to keep his distance by declaring Jesus ḥerem to his own person is not actually speaking by the Spirit” (Benovitz, Kol Nidre, 105). However, this translation does not seem to be precise, since the words “to his own person” are not part of the original text, and the translation does not quite fit the antithetical structure of the verse, where the parallel statement is that Jesus is the Lord. Moreover, the word anathema is used as a curse in a defixio from the same time period. The common translation of anathema as curse seems to be imprecise as well. Consider, for example, Rom 9:3: “For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ” (ἀνάθεμα εἶναι αὐτὸς ἐγὼ ἀπὸ τοῦ Χριστοῦ ). In this passage Paul declares that he himself should be anathema from Christ. As Benovitz pointed out, this kind of declaration has a striking resemblance to the rabbinic vow in which one may declare that he shall be distanced from another by a ḥerem (Benovitz, Kol Nidre, 98–99). The translation of anathema as a general curse means this unique meaning of the anathema as akin to the ḥerem is lost. Perhaps a more precise translation of the Pauline anathema would be a vow-curse, similar to the later use of the vow in the incantation bowls.

52 See John, G. Gager, Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from the Ancient World (Oxford: Oxford University Press 1999) 183–84Google Scholar; Auguste, Audollent, Defixionum tabellae (Paris: A. Fontemoing, 1904) 75–76Google Scholar no. 41.

53 See Gager, Curse Tablets, 84 n. 17.

54 See John, Chrysostom, Discourses against Judaizing Christians (trans. Paul, W. Harkins; FC 68; Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1977) 12Google Scholar (1.5): “I asked him why he rejected the Church and dragged the woman to the place where the Hebrews assembled. He answered that many people had told him that oaths sworn there were more to be feared.”

55 From Henk, S. Versnel, “Beyond Cursing: The Appeal to Justice in Judicial Prayers,” in Magika Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion (ed. Christopher, A. Faraone and Dirk, Obbink; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991) 60–106Google Scholar, at 72. This curse text is part of a genre that Versnel defines as “judicial prayers” or “prayers for justice” (see also idem, “Prayers for Justice, East and West: Recent Finds and Publications since 1990,” in Magical Practice in the Latin West [ed. Richard L. Gordon and Francisco Marco Simón; Leiden: Brill, 2010] 275–354).

56 Versnel, “Beyond Cursing,” 72.

57 Ibid.

58 See, for example, a bronze tablet from Southern Italy (3rd cent. BCE), quoted in ibid., 73: “Kollura consecrates (ἀνιαρίζει) to the servant of the goddess the three gold pieces which Melitta received but does not return.” For similar texts, see Versnel, “Prayers for Justice”; Gager, Curse Tablets, 188–90; Irene, Salvo, “Sweet Revenge: Emotional Factors in ‘Prayers for Justice’,” in Unveiling Emotions: Sources and Methods for the Study of Emotions in the Greek World (ed. Chaniotis, A.; Stuttgart: Steiner, 2012) 235–66Google Scholar.

59 For comprehensive overviews, see Shaul, Shaked, “Incantation Bowls and Amulet Tablets: How to Get Rid of Demons and Harmful Beings,” Qadmoniot 129 (2005) 2–13Google Scholar (Hebrew); Dan, Levene, “Curse or Blessing: What’s in the Magic Bowl?” (The Ian Karten Lecture; Parkes Institute Pamphlet 2; Southampton; University of Southampton, 2002) 5–40Google Scholar; Gideon, Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008) 183–93Google Scholar; Yuval, Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah (Detroit: WSUP, 2017) 132–40Google Scholar, 234–51.

60 Lieberman, Greek in Jewish Palestine, 119–20.

61 Ibid., 119 n. 27.

62 This action is essential to the magic of the incantation bowls. For the significance of adjurations in ancient Jewish magic, see Yuval Harari, “Religion, Magic, and Adjurations: Methodological Reflections Aimed at a New Definition of Early Jewish Magic,” Da‘at 48 (2002) 52–56 (Hebrew); idem, Jewish Magic,169-75.

63 The published bowls do not refer to other names of the vow, such as qorban or qonam. In Judah B. Segal’s edition, bowl 35A has the unusual word קונמא; this is probably due, however, to a mistake in the reading, and the word should be read קיטרי (magical knot), a typical word found on the bowls (Judah, B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum [London: British Museum Press, 2000Google Scholar]). I would like to thank Dr. James Ford for drawing my attention to the correct reading.

64 The client names in this bowl are not Jewish. The name Bar Shabbetay appears in b. Giṭ.11a as a typical name of gentiles. A genizah fragment of this passage, TS Rab. 2351.13–15 (8450), preserves the same spelling as the bowl, בר שבתי, contrary to other ways of spelling in the printed editions and various manuscripts of tractate Giṭṭin. For the religious identity of the clients of the bowls, see Shaked, “Incantation Bowls,” 2–13.

65 Naeh translates שבטי as שדפון (blight) that harms fields and humans (Shlomo, Naeh, “Šebet, Šibta, Sibtana,” Language Studies 7 [1995] 97–109Google Scholar [Hebrew]).

66 In the original Aramaic the vow and the curse are written in singular form: משבענא עליכון נידרא לוטתא ומללתא בישתא.

67 Montgomery translated this magical act קריתא as “invocations” (James, Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts from Nippur [Philadelphia: University Museum, 1913] 84Google Scholar).

68 Bowl 19, in Joseph, Naveh and Shaul, Shaked, Magic Spells and Formulae: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1993) 124–26Google Scholar. The translation is that of the authors.

69 This may have to do with the existence of oral traditions. Other pairs include: שידי ודיוי, שיקופתא ואשלמתא, חרשין בישין ועובדין בישין. I intend to elaborate on this issue elsewhere.

70 See, for example, Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts, 138; Charles D. Isbell, Corpus of the Aramaic Incantation Bowls (SBLDS 17; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1975) 140, 142, 144, 148; Judah B. Segal, Catalogue of the Aramaic and Mandaic Incantation Bowls in the British Museum (London: British Museum Press, 2000) 48, 50, 65, 66, 73; Dan, Levene, Jewish Aramaic Curse Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia (Leiden: Brill, 2013) 31Google Scholar, 37, 64, 130.

71 This translation is according to a suggested correction from Dr. James Ford that one may read here, דאית עימי, meaning “that are with,” instead of דאי תעימו, meaning “that if you sadden.”

72 Bowl M123, in Dan, Levene, A Corpus of Magic Bowls: Incantation Texts in Jewish Aramaic from Late Antiquity (London: Kegan Paul, 2003) 83–84Google Scholar, Levene’s translation, with slight modifications.

73 The vow as a designation of an adjuration appears three times in the bowl while, in line 5, invoking the holy name given to Moses in the burning bush. For the motif of the burning bush in Jewish magic, see Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, 412–14.

74 Levene, Corpus of Magic Bowls, 89–90. The third bowl Levene includes in his synoptic table (MS 2053/216) does not contain these formulae.

75 In Levene’s edition, the reading is “a house of evil” (בי בישתא). I suggest the reading “synagogue” (בי כנישתא), which is compatible with various parallel formulae, for example, bowl VA2423, line 7: “Vows of the cemetery, and vows of the house of idols, and the vow of the synagogue,” cf. also bowl VA2509, line 12; 039A, line 1.

76 “Gentiles,” according to Levene’s translation. Sokoloff translates this as “pagans” (Michael Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Babylonian Aramaic of the Talmudic and Geonic Periods [Ramat-Gan: Bar Ilan University Press; Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002] 169). For this bowl, it seems that the correct translation is indeed “non-Jew,” given the context of the binary oppositions presented: “close/far”; “men/women”; and “Jew/non-Jew.” But this isn’t always the preferred translation. For example, in bowl Isbell 49, there is a list of different sorceries: חרשין ארמאין חרשין יהודאין חרשין טיאעין חרשין פרסאין … חרשין דמיתעבדין בשבעין לישנין (Aramean sorcery, Jewish sorcery, Arab sorcery, Persian sorcery … sorcery that is performed in 70 languages). In this bowl, “Aramean” seems to designate a specific ethnic group and not the general “gentiles.” These two different translations may lead to the conclusion that “Aramean” can indicate a specific group of Aramaic speakers or non-Jews in general.

77 This formula is attested in a bowl published by Gordon, where the words ל ומילשאו ורדנ (vowed and fulfilled to) appear four consecutive times, each time to a different deity: The God of the Heavens and the God of the earth; male Gods and female Ishtars; idols and Ishtars; and another named deity (C. H. Gordon, “Aramaic Incantation Bowls,” Orientalia 10 [1941] 121–22). For a Jewish adjuration of the God of the heavens and of the earth, see Gen 24:3 and t. Soṭah 7:3. An additional formula that can attest to the specific practice of the vow-curse appears in bowl VA2423, published by Dan Levene, where there is reference to a “vow of graveyards,” a “vow of a house of idols,” and a “vow of the synagogue” (Levene, Jewish Aramaic Curse Texts, 37). How to understand the meaning of these labels is uncertain, but they may attest to a vow that consists of devotion to the Jewish God, to idols, or to the dead, similarly to the Greco-Roman defixiones discussed above.

78 Cf. midrashic exegesis on other biblical verses, in which the sons of a man are the ones who die: b. Ketub. 72a; b. Šabb. 32b; y. Ketub. 7:7, 31b.

79 The translation of “curse” for “vow” is absent from Syriac and Mandaic dictionaries. In the Drower-Macuch dictionary, nidra is translated as “vow” or, in magical contexts, as “(evil) vow” (see Ethel Stefana Drower and Rudolf Macuch, A Mandaic Dictionary [Oxford: Clarendon, 1963] 297). Syriac dictionaries regularly translate nidra as “vow” as well (see Michael Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon: A Translation from the Latin; Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum [Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2009] 892). However, it is worth noting that for מנדרא, Sokoloff refers to the 9th-cent. Isho Bar Ali (The Syriac Arabic Glosses), who translated it as מתעסקא, “torment.” This may point to an ancient lexical connection between the vow and the curse.

80 The vow appears quite frequently in the Syriac incantation bowls, usually as part of a list of harms that the client seeks protection from, similar in practice to the Jewish bowls (see, for example, bowl nos. 4, 6, 7, 16, 17, 22, 23, 32, 38, 41, and 44, in Marco, Moriggi, Syriac Incantation Bowls [Leiden: Brill, 2014Google Scholar]). Dr. Ohad Abudraham informed me that in the corpus of Mandaic epigraphic materials (which includes unpublished magical material), the nidra appears approximately 14 times, at times as part of a list of harms and in close proximity to the curse. This preliminary research leads to the conclusion that the vow was used as a curse in other religious groups, though more research on this subject needs to be conducted.