THE

GOOD AND
EVIL SERPENT
THE ANCHOR YALE BIBLE REFERENCE LIBRARY is a project of international
and inter-faith scope in which Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish
scholars from many countries contribute individual volumes. The
project is not sponsored by any ecclesiastical organization and is not
intended to reflect any particular theological doctrine.

The series is committed to producing volumes in the tradition

established half a century ago by the founders of the Anchor Bible,
William Foxwell Albright and David Noel Freedman. It aims to present
the best comtemporary scholarship in a way that is accessible not only
to scholars but also to the educated nonspecialist. It is committed to
work of sound philological and historical scholarship, supplemented by
insight from modern methods, such as sociological and literary
criticism.

John J. Collins
GENERAL EDITOR
THE ANCHOR YALE BIBLE REFERENCE LIBRARY

THE GOOD AND

EVIL SERPENT
How a Universal Symbol Became
Christianized

JAMES H. CHARLESWORTH
The Anchor Yale logo is a trademark of Yale University.
Copyright © 2010 by James H. Charlesworth.
All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, including illustrations, in any form
(beyond that copying permitted by Sections 107 and 108 of the U.S. Copyright Law and except
by reviewers for the public press), without written permission from the publishers.
Designed by Leslie Phillips.
Set in Sabon type by dix!
Printed in the United States of America by Sheridan Books, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Charlesworth, James H.
The good and evil serpent : how a universal symbol became christianized / James H.
Charlesworth.
p. cm.—(The Anchor Yale Bible reference library)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-300-14082-8 (alk. paper)
1. Devil—Christianity. 2. Symbolism. 3. Snakes—Religious aspects—Christianity. 4. Good
and evil. 5. Good and evil—Religious aspects—Christianity. I. Title.
BT982.C43 2009

220.6´4—dc22 2008036207
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For faithful viātōrēs and biblical colleagues
who have shared parts of two millennia with me:

Savas Agourides Jim Armstrong Peder and Inge Borgen

Frank Cross Archbishop Damianos Tom Gillespie
Martin and Mariana Hengel Doron and Michal Mendels
Pat Miller Petr and Věra Porkorný Jim Roberts
James Sanders Moody and Jane Smith
Walter Weaver Orval Wintermute

and those especially close who passed over:

Hugh and Jean Anderson

Pierre Benoit
Ray Brown
Roland de Vaux
Noel Freedman
John Priest
William Stinespring

—indeed, all who helped me intermittently enjoy the wise serpent’s

viāticum
Contents
Preface
Acknowledgments
Abbreviations
1. Introduction
2. Physiology Undergirds Symbology:
Thirty-two Virtually Unique Characteristics of a Snake
3. Realia and Iconography: The Symbolism of the Serpent
in the Ancient Near East (and the Religion of Israel)
4. The Perception That the Serpent
Is a Positive Symbol in Greek and Roman Literature
5. The Full Spectrum of the Meaning
of Serpent Symbolism in the Fertile Crescent
6. Serpent Symbolism in the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament)
7. The Symbolism of the Serpent in the Gospel of John
Conclusion
Epilogue
Appendixes
I: Biblical Hebrew Terms for Various Types of Snakes
II: A Lexicon of Words for “Serpent” in Ancient Greek
III: Anguine Iconography and Symbolism at Pompeii
IV: Notes on Serpent Symbolism in the Early Christian Centuries
Glossary
Notes
Selected “Serpent” Bibliography
General Index
Index of Modern Authors
Index of Ancient Sources
Preface
Writing this book has been a journey. I have been searching for
spiritual insights. For six years of research, I have attempted to
discover what the serpent may have symbolized for the ancients as
they explored the perennial questions that define the human. During
this period, I tried to keep in mind all who question boldly and freely.
Since before attending seminary I have admired the great minds who
with apparent Promethean arrogance focus on the Scriptures, boldly
searching for the original meaning(s) of some perplexing passages.
Thus, I am writing not so much for scholars, preachers, or rabbis as for
those who are searching for answers in a culture shaped and
influenced by the church and synagogue. I am writing for those who
are no longer afraid of freely studying the books canonized as the
Bible. Such free inquiry was often condemned in the past, especially
after the Palestinian Jesus Movement became an institution. The
leading thinkers in this organization, the church, had to fight for its
survival against many powerful ideologies and mythologies. In the
following pages, I will clarify how the Asclepius story threatened the
“Jesus Gospel.”
Did the Fourth Evangelist inherit an ophidian Christology; that is,
was the Evangelist’s conception of Jesus influenced by the symbolism
of a serpent? Did this genius imagine Jesus in terms of the serpent
symbolism that had developed for millennia prior to his masterpiece?
Did he formulate his presentation of Jesus, whom he hailed as God’s
Son and the Christ, in some way with images obtained from the
mythology of the serpent?
I have found that the commentators on the Fourth Gospel have
missed the full meaning of John 3:13–16. It is evident that some of
them were afraid to boldly and freely raise fresh questions. Far too
many did not wrestle with the original meaning of this passage.
Perhaps now, at the beginning of the third millennium, it is possible for
all of us to think faithfully and creatively. Is that not the freedom Jesus
shared with his earliest followers?
I see my task as a professor of New Testament at Princeton
Theological Seminary rather simply. All of us who are interested in
hearing the truth need to cleanse our ears of the disturbances in
Western society. Then we may hear the authors who speak to us from
the ancient canonical and extra-canonical texts. There is a vast
amount to learn from those who lived long ago in the Near East. Some
authors of biblical books and works contemporaneous with them were
geniuses. Sometimes they understood aspects of life better than any
of us today. This is especially clear when we examine carefully and
afresh the thoughts and language of the authors of Genesis 3 and
John 3.
If I can help some to appreciate the creativity of the biblical authors
and to read the Bible free from dogmas that deafen our ears to eternal
truths, then my joy in writing will be complete. I am not eager for all to
agree with my attempt to understand the biblical texts, but I do urge all
attracted by the Bible to attend personally to the words in our texts.
The Scriptures are our main source for inspiration. As those in the
synagogue and church have endeavored to teach, despite some of
their administrators, the ancient writings contain echoes of the still
small voice that resonates within our hearts.
Finally, it might be of interest to some readers to know why I have
been attracted to this subject. Why would a scholar at Princeton spend
six years studying the images and symbols of serpents? Rather than
consider me nuts, virtually all who have heard about my forays into
ancient folklore stop, listen, and then utter words like: “Wow, that is
fascinating.”
What then is my answer to this question? I grew up on the eastern
fringes of the Everglades. Rumors about dangerous snakes would
circulate around Delray Beach, Coconut Grove, and Coral Gables—
the places in which I lived in the 1950s and 1960s. Some of these
stories were about snakes finding their way into homes. There were
reports of a woman entering the bathroom only to find a moccasin in
the bathtub. I also recall the account of a woman who sat down on a
toilet and looked down, between her legs, at a poisonous snake in the
water below.
I heard about coral snakes and feared these small reptiles that hide
threateningly under Palmetto palms. The attractively colored snakes
have venom more deadly than cobras. My encounter with a gigantic
serpent, however, was unusual. This frozen moment in time may have
shaped my fascination with snakes far more than I may realize.
Thinking back to 1953, when I was thirteen, I remember a golden-
domed figure rising before me. He was massive in size and weight.
The creature reflected the sun that poured down on us from the right. I
remember that his eyes were on the level of my own, and I was then
roughly 5 feet, 5 inches (1.65 meters) tall. He swayed before me. I was
simultaneously frightened and awestruck at this wonder of creation. He
stood erect, and the sun transformed him into blinding gold. For years I
dismissed from memory the height of this monster, and how time and
eternity stopped as we looked deep into each other’s eyes. You, the
reader, will think I have succumbed to mythology.
But the encounter transcends the normal, and it happened. The
place was the Serpentarium in Miami, Florida. Dr. William E. Haast,
the head of the Serpentarium, was beginning to milk a king cobra. He
was assisted by two young men. The monster shook loose and
slithered toward me over the recently cut green grass. Then he chose
me from about one hundred spectators. He swiftly rose up and stared
at me. I felt him towering over me, and the sun flashing off his golden
hood, which was now fully expanded. The only words Haast spoke
were, “Don’t move, son.” Obviously, I didn’t.
Almost fifty years later I talked with Dr. Haast for the first time. We
spoke over the phone on March 9, 2001. He said something like, “It is
odd that you would remember that event so long ago.” I thought to
myself, “It would be odd not to remember a life-threatening
confrontation with a king cobra.” Dr. Haast informed me that the cobra
weighed about 20 pounds (less than 10 kilograms) and was about 15
feet (4.6 meters) long. I had imagined it was over 20 feet (6 meters)
long and well over 300 pounds (100 kilograms). Had I also imagined
how high this wondrous creature could “stand”? Can a king cobra raise
itself to 5 feet (1.5 meters)?
Long after the encounter, I learned that a serpent can raise itself
one-third of its length. This gigantic king cobra could have raised itself
to about 5 feet. I was not imagining or embellishing the encounter
when I remembered how he faced me, eyes to eyes.
I cannot assume that you have “enjoyed” a similar experience. Still,
I am convinced that we have all encountered the exceptional creature
we call the snake. Biblical scholars who attended the meeting of a
New Testament congress at Duke University in 1976 were alarmed
when they heard about a poisonous snake found dead in the
basement of my newly constructed house in Durham, North Carolina.
They spoke as if such occurrences were conceivable only in the
wilderness. Thus, for most of us living in Western societies, the snake
is not a friend but a sinister and feared monster that symbolically is
associated with sin. Jews, Christians, and Muslims have informed me
for over six years that the snake is the symbol of the Devil, Satan.
My research will take the reader back in time, especially into the
cultures that shaped the Holy Land from about 2000 BCE to about 400
CE. The ancients also portrayed the serpent as sinister; the animal
could symbolize Satan. But primarily, they used the serpent to
symbolize numerous human ideals, as we shall soon see. Thus, it is
impossible for me to agree with F. S. Bodenheimer, who claimed that
in antiquity serpents “must have been held in abhorrence in general.”
Bodenheimer’s use of “must” indicates a failure to dig deeply into the
question concerning the symbolic meaning of the serpent in ancient
cultures. The present book raises many questions; these are united by
one: What did the serpent symbolize in antiquity?
My investigations of the symbolic meaning of the serpent led me to
explore serpent images from approximately 40,000 BCE to the present.
I endeavored to read ancient documents in search of the symbolic
meaning of the serpent. Such research was then supported by a study
of ancient art as well as by an exploration of archaeological data. It
became obvious that the serpent was often held in esteem, adored,
and even worshipped. From studying images and texts, I was
surprised by one discovery: almost all gods and goddesses in the first
century CE were accompanied by serpents or were perceived as
serpents.
Such discoveries became possible because I kept two lines of
inquiry in central focus. First, I sought to discern what the serpent
symbolized to the ancients (while keeping an eye on what was
happening recently, especially in India, Africa, Australia, and the
southern states in the United States). This task took me into diverse
disciplines (viz., the philology of all ancient Near Eastern languages,
archaeology, anthropology, sociology, iconography, and symbology).
Second, simultaneously observing the various meanings of serpent
symbolism, I periodically refined criteria for discerning which of the
possible meanings was probably intended by the artist or author
(authorial intent) and what additional meanings might have been
added by those who saw the object or read the text (readers’
response).
No book has been more difficult for me to write. None has taken so
long. Yet the joys of discovery have been exceptional. I feel we have
lost the oneness with nature that shaped the spiritual journeys of our
ancestors. I know we habitually fail to hear the subtleties in symbols
that alone make life full of excitement. May you share this joy as you
rediscover yourself in the texts and the images. May you obtain the
poetic vision of the Yahwist and the Fourth Evangelist.
 Do the biblical narratives not indicate that the first humans and
Jesus knew the wisdom of the serpent? Can one wisely claim to be
perceptive and remain in ignorance?

JHC
Princeton Theological Seminary, Universität Tübingen,
Ecole Biblique de Jérusalem,
Università degli Studi di Napoli Federico II,
Albright Institute in Jerusalem,
and Hebrew University, Jerusalem
Acknowledgments
I intend this book for all those who approach the Bible with the
freedom to raise challenging questions. Those who say that they
believe “everything” in the Bible probably have never read everything
in the Bible. The Bible is full of passages that are replete with
meaning, but the symbolic and deeply theological meaning of a
passage has far too often been missed by many, including biblical
experts. The present work reveals that the symbolic meaning of a
passage in my favorite biblical book, the Fourth Gospel, has been
missed by modern commentators. And many of these experts have
written two or three volumes on the twenty-one chapters in the Fourth
Gospel. Yet the meaning of John 3:14 was perceived, if only in
nuances, by such luminaries as Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Augustine,
and Calvin.
If my research enables others to appreciate the biblical record, then
it has been worthwhile. If my labors help others to puzzle over obtuse
or confusing passages and to discover a hidden gem of wisdom, then I
will have been richly rewarded.
I am grateful to so many who have helped me in this study. Joe
Zias of the Rockeller Museum, Jerusalem, helped me study the
artifacts in that famous museum. Zaher Barakat, a specialist in
antiquities, helped me obtain serpent objects from ancient Israel. Dr.
Johnny Awwad, now of the Near East School of Theology in Beirut,
helped me find and obtain many of the books and articles cited.
Michael Davis, Shane A. Berg, Joseph M. Eason, and Brian D. Rhea
have also assisted me in locating sources and books in Princeton, and
Enno Popkos has aided me with this task in Tübingen. I appreciate
Susan Laity’s editorial skills; she found some errors and helped me
improve this work. Professor Hermann Lichtenberger has been of
inestimable assistance as I continued my work in the Institut für
antikes Judentum und hellenistische Religionsgeschichte in the
Eberhard-Karls Universität Tübingen. Richard C. Miller, Scott J.
Pearson, and James J. Foster helped me with digitizing and cropping
images. Alice Y. Yafeh helped me complete the work on the Selected
Bibliography. Ross Voss assisted me in the study of serpent images in
Ashkelon. Khader Baidun, an antiquities dealer in Jerusalem’s Old City
who has provided artifacts for Moshe Dayan, Nelson Glueck, and
others, as well as a friend for over thirty years, worked with me to
obtain ancient ophidian objects. Dr. Shimon Gibson drew my attention
to the “Bezetha Vase,” which is now in the Palestine Exploration Fund
office in London, and helped me study this vase and contextualize it in
ancient Jerusalem. Professor O. Keel spent days with me in Freiburg,
helping me to comprehend the subtleties of symbology. Professor A.
Biran shared with me his discoveries at Dan. Professors McGrath,
Mann, and Ryan of the Warburg Institute in London helped me peruse
the vast amount of images of the serpent in antiquity and more
recently. Dr. Mikhail Piotrovsky, Director of the State Hermitage
Museum in St. Petersburg, was most gracious and helped me study
the priceless treasures in that museum. Professors Del Verme and De
Simone of the Università degli Studi di Napoli Federico II helped with
my work in the Archaeological Museum in Naples and in Pompeii. Lara
Guglielmo was a devoted and gifted research assistant when I was a
visiting professor in Naples. Dr. Michal Dayagi-Mendels and Professor
Doron Mendels continue to be special dialogue partners. I express
appreciations to the Research Council of Princeton Theological
Seminary, the Alexander von Humboldt Stiftung, the American Schools
of Oriental Research (Annual Professor), and the Hebrew University,
Jerusalem (Lady Davis Professor), for financial assistance. Grants
from the Foundation on Christian Origins and the Edith C. Blum
Foundation helped me cover some expenses for research.
Numerous libraries and museums have offered exceptional
assistance and provided some essential photographs or images. I
cannot list them all, but I am especially indebted for such help and
images to the State Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, the British
Museum in London, the Palestine Exploration Fund in London, the
Università degli Studi di Napoli Federico II and Archaeological
Museum in Naples, the National Library and National Museum in
Athens, the Archaeological Museum at Epid-aurus, the Archaeological
Museums on Crete at Herakleion and Chania, the Metropolitan
Museum of Art in New York, the Brooklyn Museum of Art, the Skirball
Museum in Jerusalem, and the Israel Museum in Jerusalem. The
initials JHC at the end of an illustration’s caption indicate the
photograph was taken by the author. My colleagues, old and new, at
the Ecole Biblique generously supported me during the last year in
which I worked in the famous library in the Ecole. The late Noel
Freedman discussed each chapter with me, making valuable
suggestions for improving the clarity of presentation; he again proved
to be a super editor. Additional appreciations and indebtedness will be
noted in the following pages.
Abbreviations
Ancient Sources

1 Apol. Justin Martyr, 1 Apology
1 En 1 Enoch
2 Bar 2 Baruch
3 Bar 3 Baruch
4 Mac 4 Maccabees
1QH Thanksgiving Hymns from Qumran
1QM War Scroll from Qumran
11QT Temple Scroll from Qumran
AcJn Acts of John
AcThom Acts of Thomas
Adv. Haer. Irenaeus, Against Heresies
Agr. Philo, De agricultura
Alex. Lucian, Alexander the False Prophet
Ant Josephus, Jewish Antiquities
ApEl Apocalypse of Elijah
ApMos Apocalypse of Moses
A pVir Apocalypse of the Virgin
b. Babylonian Talmud
B. Bat. Baba Batra
Barn. Barnabas
Ber. Berakot
Cels. Origen, Contra Celsum
Cyn. Xenophon, Cynegeticus
Descr. Pausanias, Descriptio Graeciae
Dial. Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho
GosThom Gospel of Thomas
Haer. Hippolytus, Refutation of All Heresies
HE Eusebius, History of the Church
HelSynPr Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers
Hist. Herodotus, Histories; Tacitus, Histories
Hist. an. Aristotle, Historia Animalium
j. Jerusalem Talmud
Leg. Philo, Legum allegoriae
Ling. Varro, On the Latin Language
LivPro Lives of the Prophets
m. Mishnah
Metam. Ovid, Metamorphoses
Nat. Pliny, Natural History
Nat. an. Aelian, De natura animalium
Nat. d. Cicero, De natura deorum
OdesSol Odes of Solomon
Pan. Epiphanius, Panarion
Part. an. Aristotle, Parts of Animals
PG Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel
PssSol Psalms of Solomon
QG Philo, Questions and Answers on Genesis
Rosh Hash. Rosh Hashanah
Sanb. Sanhedrin
Sat. Juvenal, Satires
t. Tosephta
Ta’an. Ta’anit
Vita Vita Adae et Evae
Wis Wisdom of Solomon

Modern Sources
AA Archäologischer Anzeiger
AcOr Acta orientalia
AfO Archiv für Orientforschung
AJA American Journal of Archaeology
AJSL American Journal of Semitic Languages and
Literatures
ANEP Ancient Near East in Pictures Relating to the Old
Testament.
Edited by J. B. Pritchard. 3rd ed. Princeton, 1954.
ANET Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old
Testament.
Edited by J. B. Pritchard. 3rd ed. Princeton, 1954.
ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers
ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergand der römischen Welt
AntW Antike Welt. Zeitschrift für Archäologie und
Kulturgeschichte
ASOR American Schools of Oriental Research
AYBD Anchor Yale Bible Dictionary. Edited by D. N.
Freedman.
6 vols. New York, 1992.
BAR Biblical Archaeology Review
BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental
Research
BBR Bulletin for Biblical Research
BeO Bibbia e oriente
BHH Biblisch-historisches Handwörterbuch:
Landeskunde,
Geschichte, Religion, Kultur. Edited by B. Reicke
and
L. Rost. 4 vols. Göttingen, 1962–1966.
BN Biblische Notizen
BRev Bible Review
BZ Biblische Zeitschrift
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
ChrEg Chronique d’Egypte
Context The Context of Scripture: Canonical
Compositions,
Monumental Inscriptions and Archival Documents
from the Biblical World. Edited by William W.
Hallo and
K. Lawson Younger, Jr. 3 vols. Leiden, 1997,
2000, 2002.
CRAI Comptes rendus de l’Académie des inscriptions
et belles-
lettres
CUL A Concordance of the Ugaritic Literature. R. E.
Whitaker.
Cambridge, Mass., 1972.
DACL Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de
liturgie. Edited
 by F. Cabrol. 15 vols. Paris, 1907–1953.
DC A A Dictionary of Christian Antiquities. Edited by
William
Smith and Samuel Cheetham. Vol. 1: Boston,
1875. Vol. 2:
London, 1880.
DCH Dictionary of Classical Hebrew. Edited by D. J. A.
Clines.
Sheffield, 1993–.
DDD Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible.
Edited
by K. vander Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der
Horst.
Leiden, 1995.
Di Dialog
DJD Discoveries in the Judaean Desert. Oxford,
1955–.
DNP Der neue Pauly: Enzyklopädie der Antike. Edited
by
H. Cancik and H. Schneider. Stuttgart, 1996–.
EAA Enciclopedia dell’arte antica, classica e orientale
(Rome,
1958-1984)
EncJud Encyclopaedia Judaica. 16 vols. Jerusalem,
1972.
EPRO Études préliminairies aux religions orientales
dans l’Empire
romain
ER The Encyclopedia of Religion. Edited by M.
Eliade. 16 vols.
New York, 1987.
ERE Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics. Edited by J.
Hastings.
13 vols. New York, 1908–1927. Reprint, 7 vols.,
1951.
ErIsr Eretz-Israel
EstBib Estudios bíblicos
ETL Ephemerides theologicae lovanienses
ExpTim Expository Times
FF Forschungen und Fortschritte
GCDS Graphic Concordance to the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Edited by
J. H. Charlesworth et al. Tübingen, 1991.
GKC Gesenius’ Hebrew Grammar. Edited by E.
Kautzsch.
Translated by A. E. Cowley. 2nd ed. Oxford,
1910.
Hen Henoch
HR History of Religions
HTR Harvard Theological Review
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual
IDB The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible. Edited by
G. A. Buttrick. 4 vols. Nashville, 1962.
IMJ Israel Museum Journal
IntJPsycholRelig International Journal for the Psychology
of Religion
I SBE The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia.
Edited by
G. W. Bromiley. 4 vols. Grand Rapids, 1979–
1988.
JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JdI Jahrbuch des deutschen archäologischen
Instituts
JNES Journal of Near Eastern Studies
JRA Journal of Roman Archaeology
JRS Journal of Roman Studies
JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian,
Hellenistic,
and Roman Periods

JTS Journal of Theological Studies

JWI Journal of the Warburg Institute
KBL Koehler, L., W. Baumgartner, and J. J. Stamm.
The Hebrew
and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament.
Translated and
 edited under the supervision of M. E. J.
Richardson. 4 vols.
Leiden, 1994–1999.
KJV King James Version
KTU Die keilalphabetischen Texte aus Ugarit. Edited
by
M. Dietrich, O. Loretz, and J. Sanmartín. AOAT
24/1.
Neukirchen-Vluyn, 1976.
Lex Syr C. Brockelmann. Lexicon Syriacum. 2nd ed.
Halle, 1928.
LCL Loeb Classical Library
LIMC Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae
LSJM Henry George Liddell, Robert Scott, Henry Stuart
Jones, and
Roderick McKenzie. A Greek-English Lexicon. 9th
rev. ed.
Oxford, 1996.
LTK Lexicon für Theologie und Kirche
LXX Septuagint [the Greek translation of the Old
Testament]
M DA I Mitteilungen des Deutschen archäologischen
Instituts
NEAEHL The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological
Excavations in the
Holy Land. Edited by E. Stern. 4 vols. Jerusalem,
1993.
NEB New English Bible
NKJV New King James Version
NPNF1 (2) Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series 1 (Series
2)
NRSV New Revised Standard Version
NTS New Testament Studies
OBO Orbis biblicus et orientalis
OCD Oxford Classical Dictionary. Edited by S.
Hornblower and
A. Spawforth. 3rd ed. Oxford, 1996.
OEANE The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the
 Near East.
Edited by E. M. Meyers. New York, 1997.
OTP Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by
J. H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York, 1983.
Pauly-Wissowa Paulys Realencyclopädie der classischen
Altertumswissenschaft. Munich, 1914–72.
Payne Smith Thesaurus syriacus. Edited by R. Payne Smith.
Oxford,
1879-1901.
PEF Palestine Exploration Fund
Per Perspectives
PGL Patristic Greek Lexicon. Edited by G. W. H.
Lampe. Oxford,
1968.
RA Revue d’assyriologie et d’archéologie orientale
RAr Revue archéologique
RB Revue biblique
RE Realencyklopädie für protestantische Theologie
und Kirche
RevQ Revue de Qumran
RHR Revue de l’histoire des religions
RS Ras Shamra
RSO Rivista degli studi orientali
RSR Recherches de science religieuse
RSV Revised Standard Version

SJOT Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament

SJT Scottish Journal of Theology
S Pa p Studia papyrologica
TANAKH JPS Hebrew-English TANAKH. Philadelphia: The
Jewish
Publication Society, 1999.
TBT The Bible Today
TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament.
Edited by
G. Kittel and G. Friedrich. Translated by G. W.
Bromiley.
10 vols. Grand Rapids, 1964–1976.
TDOT Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament
TLL Thesaurus linguae latinae
TWNT Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Neuen
Testament
TynBul Tyndale Bulletin
UF Ugarit-Forscbungen
VT Vetus Testamentum
VTSup Supplements to Vetus Testamentum
WO Die Welt des Orients
WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen
Testament
ZAW Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
ZNW Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft
und die
Kunde der älteren Kirche

Other
Abbreviations
BHS Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia
LB Late Bronze
MB Middle Bronze
MT Masoretic Text
N.F. Neue Folge [= New Series]

N.V. Non Videre [a publication not seen]

THE GOOD AND
EVIL SERPENT
1 Introduction
STARTING POINT: THE PERPLEXING NATURE OF JOHN
3:14
The present search began in a PhD seminar in Princeton. I was
bothered by a passage and asked the members of the seminar to
assist me in obtaining some insight into what it could mean. The
passage is John 3:14–15:

And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,

So it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up,
In order that all who are believing in him may have eternal life.1

In the Christian Bible no passage is so misunderstood and yet equally

full of symbolism as these two verses.
What is the symbolic meaning of these two verses? They reflect
the author’s refined thoughts because they are placed at a crucial
point in the discussion between Jesus and Nicodemus. They come at
the climax of Jesus’ words to this “ruler of the Judean leaders.” The
significance of these words is also obvious because they have been
carefully couched by the Fourth Evangelist in some of his common
technical terms (termini technici), specifically “lifted up,” “Son of Man,”
“all who are believing,” and “eternal life.”
Virtually any student of the Fourth Gospel will readily grasp the
major point the Evangelist is making. It is clear that the author is
foreshadowing Jesus’ crucifixion. The key verb is “to lift up,”2 which
obtains singularly important Christological meaning in the Fourth
Gospel. This well-known Greek verb attains a new meaning here; it
signifies that Jesus’ crucifixion was not a failure but an exaltation; note
especially 12:32–33, “ ‘And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, shall
draw all to myself.’ He said this to signify by what death he was about
to die.”
The major problem remains: Why does the author mention the
serpent? Another problem is the meaning of the simile. Does “as”
denote only the action of lifting up—Jesus was lifted up as the serpent
was lifted up—or does it also intimate an association of what is lifted
up: the serpent and then Jesus? That is, has the Fourth Evangelist
inherited a typos for Jesus, the serpent? Is the author suggesting that
Jesus is being compared to the serpent raised up by Moses? Initially it
seems obvious that the author of the Fourth Gospel cannot be
claiming that Jesus is a serpent. Such a thought repels us as being
abhorrent, since the serpent, as snake, is a pejorative image in
Western cultures (especially among Jews, Christians, and Muslims).
New Testament scholars habitually fail to raise the crucial question:
Did the Fourth Evangelist, or those in the Johannine community,
imagine that Jesus could be portrayed symbolically as a serpent? Most
New Testament experts tend to assume prima facie that those
possibilities are nil, taking for granted that serpents symbolically
denote evil and demons. These scholars presuppose that such a
suggestion cannot be contemplated as appropriate for Jesus. They
reject, out of hand, that such an allusion is possible for the
sophisticated and refined theology of the Fourth Evangelist. In one
sense they are right. Of course, the Fourth Evangelist surely cannot be
associated with the Ophites, those “heretical” so-called Christians who
worshipped Jesus as the serpent, according to Epiphanius of
Salamis.3
In our Western culture the snake has become only a pejorative
symbol (as portrayed in the movies about Indiana Jones). The first and
last books in the Christian Bible leave most readers with a foreboding
fear of snakes. We think about “the wild animal,” the snake, that
deceived Eve and Adam and introduced sin and death into creation.
We obtain such symbolism from Genesis 3, and we inherit from
Revelation many symbols that have shaped our Western culture.
Surely one of these is the snake or dragon that comes to the cosmic
woman and futilely attempts to devour her child (Rev 12:1–6). Then
Michael and his hosts fight and defeat the dragon, the ancient serpent,
who is the Devil and Satan (12:7–9).
The conception of the snake as the embodiment of evil has
permeated our Western culture. Young people who have had no
means of learning about the myths that explain the snake as evil
nevertheless have dreams that mysteriously seem to be mirror images
of those myths. Carl Gustav Jung refers to a dream that was difficult
for him to understand. It was unique. It was the first in a series of
dreams an eight-year-old experienced. She so cherished them that
she compiled them into a booklet that she gave to her father for a
Christmas present when she was ten. Although he was a psychiatrist,
Jung was baffled by them. The first of the twelve dreams had what he
called the following “relevant motifs”:

“The evil animal,” a serpent-like monster with many horns, kills and devours all other animals.
But God comes from the four corners, being in fact four separate gods, and gives rebirth to all
the dead animals.4

The serpent-like monster is clearly a feared “evil animal.”

It is apparent, therefore, that many will think it scandalous,
sacrilegious, and an aspect of anti-Christian polemic to suggest that
Jesus may be like a snake or serpent. It will probably seem even more
blasphemous to claim that such a thought was in the mind of the
Fourth Evangelist and was an aspect of the mythology and lore in the
Johannine community or school. But should we lack the courage to
explore whether the Evangelist might have held something like an
ophidian Christology? Did the Fourth Evangelist, or some in his
community, contemplate—perhaps even conceptualize—that Jesus
Christ had the attributes of a serpent?
Would not my colleagues lose respect for me and perhaps
ostracize me for contemplating what may be to them heretical—even
corrupt—thoughts? Surely, no scholar should be swayed by what
some revered colleagues might think about the conclusions of careful
work that seeks to obtain answers to obscure passages that have
been ignored by experts. Thanks to hundreds of years of struggles by
Wycliffe, Luther, Pascal, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Bultmann,
Bonhoeffer, Tillich, J. A. T. Robinson, and so many others, we are
finally free from ecclesiastical controls to explore the full range of the
words and intentions in our sacred Scriptures. We now have the
freedom to proceed with every conceivable question without fear of
reprisal or condemnation.
This thought—that Jesus may be represented as a serpent—has
sounded so incredible to many with whom I have shared it that it
deserves exposition. I am astounded that a scholar would imagine it
was not an insightful question to ponder. One leading scholar, during
the sessions of the Society for New Testament Studies in South Africa,
asked me what I was now focusing upon in my research. When I told
him I was striving to comprehend the symbolic meaning of the serpent,
he replied, “I hate snakes.”
Often those who are attracted to biblical studies assume that
scholars are in some ways constrained by the questions they might
raise or the conclusions that are permitted. They assume that because
I am a Methodist minister and teaching at Princeton Theological
Seminary that some issues and conclusions are not allowed.
Nonsense! I spent over a year at New College in the University of
Edinburgh, at the Universität Tübingen and at Hebrew University in
Jerusalem, and twenty-three years at Duke University. I feel as free
here at Princeton Seminary as I did in those universities to pursue my
creative reflections, without any person or institution dictating what
might be considered proper. This freedom for research is absolutely
necessary if the major seminaries can be considered “academic”
institutions in which free inquiry and advanced research are fostered.
It is imperative to share openly that this freedom to pursue
research has been a hallmark of Protestant seminaries for
approximately two centuries, with an improvement in raising questions
and discerning answers over the past century. In 1787, J. P. Gabler, for
example, emphasized that we must “establish some distinction
between biblical and dogmatic theology,” and also “distinguish among
each of the periods in the Old and New Testaments, each of the
authors, and each of the manners of speaking which each used as a
reflection of time and place, whether these matters are historical or
didactic or poetic.”5 Particularly important for all who are offended, if
only initially, by the suggestion that the Fourth Evangelist thought of
Jesus as a serpent is Gabler’s ageless advice that we must discern
what symbol an evangelist might have employed “as an
accommodation to the ideas or the needs of the first Christians” (pp.
142–43).
The dicta classica must not be a list of texts isolated from their
literary or sociological contexts. Nothing other than the texts
themselves, understood in terms of the original meaning of the authors
of long ago, should inform us of Scripture; that is, to say with Gabler,
“everything must be accomplished by exegetical observation only” (p.
143). The thrust of what Gabler argued seems to be the axiom
followed today in every leading Jewish or Christian seminary: that
dogmatic theology must not dictate agendas and methods to biblical
scholars but, instead, must be informed by biblical theology, which is
shaped by careful exegesis not marred by our own wishes or desires.6
Most of the readers of this search for the original meaning of the
Fourth Gospel will agree with Gabler that the Bible does contain
revealed truths and that the task of biblical theology is to discover
these and distinguish them from the mythology used in antiquity.
In consequent developments of the insights advanced by Gabler at
the end of the eighteenth century are thoughts echoed today in many
seminaries. W. Wrede argued that our work as New Testament
scholars must not deal with the “New Testament” because the
collection called the canonical New Testament postdates the period in
which these twenty-seven writings were formed, shaped, and edited.
The canon of the New Testament was given to the church by bishops
and theologians. No specialist, who is a scholar, can accept limiting
questions to a closed canon without severely compromising free
inquiry and the ability to learn something strikingly new and fresh
(even if such a “revelation” was common knowledge for the ancients).7
A. Schlatter wisely urged us to have a perspective that seems
essential in our search for the intended meaning of John 3:14–15: “Our
work has a historical purpose when it is not concerned with the
interests which emerge from the course of our own life, but directs its
attention quite deliberately away from ourselves and our own
contemporary interests, back to the past.”8 Our search will thus focus
on what the Fourth Evangelist intended when he wrote that “the Son of
Man”—Jesus to him—must be lifted up as the serpent was raised up
by Moses.
Many vehemently resist thinking of Jesus as a serpent or snake
precisely because they assume this creature symbolically has only a
negative connotation. To demonstrate the hypothesis, or thesis, that
the Fourth Evangelist in John 3:14 contends that Jesus is like the
serpent raised up by Moses in the wilderness depends on establishing
that:

1. The serpent is sometimes a good symbol in world cultures.

2. The serpent was admired in Old Testament times and within Early
Judaism.
3. The serpent was appreciated in the Greek and Roman periods.
4. The serpent was a positive symbol in the Judaism of the Fourth
Evangelist.
5. John 3:14 means more than a parallel between the lifting up of the
serpent and of Jesus.
6. John 3:14 is a poetic statement in parallel thought so that “the
serpent” is synonymous with “the Son of Man.”
7. We can find an exegesis of Numbers 21 by a Jew
contemporaneous with the Evangelist, and that the Jewish
expositor stresses the positive symbolism of the copper (or
bronze) serpent.
8. The Fourth Evangelist does not cavalierly treat the symbolism of
the serpent he inherits from Numbers 21, but appreciates it and
 develops it in significantly positive ways.

These are formidable criteria to fulfill. The possibility that John 3:14–15
mirrors something like an anguine Christology will be essentially
established if these criteria, or some of them, are validated.9 Thus, our
central question: Did the Fourth Evangelist or perhaps some members
in his community imagine that Jesus could be symbolized as a
serpent?
The tasks before us are daunting but promising. If the Fourth
Evangelist was a Jew and his community essentially Jewish, and if we
can discover positive images of the serpent in the Judaism of his time,
then a presupposition against considering the possibility of a positive
meaning of ophidian symbolism is diminished. Does the serpent ever
represent something positive in the Jewish literature anterior to or
roughly contemporaneous with the Fourth Evangelist? The words in
John 3:14 are attributed to Jesus; is there evidence that he mentioned
the serpent in other passages, and are these symbolic of positive
meanings?
If some members in the Johannine community were Greeks or
Romans (as seems evident from Jn 12:20–26), did some bring with
them a positive ophidian or anguine symbolism? Did some converts
come from a cult of Asclepius, and would they perhaps have portrayed
Jesus as the divine healer, “the Savior,” who is “like a serpent”? Given
Jesus’ heroic exploits, did members of the Johannine community link
him with Hercules who took the apple signifying immortality from a tree
—guarded by a serpent—in the Hesperides?10 In the Catacomb of Via
Latina, in Cubiculum N, is a depiction of Hercules in the Garden of the
Hesperides, with a large serpent.11 The art seems shaped by Christian
interpretations, perhaps like the one found recently in Lower Galilee
(see Fig. 2). Is there a possible link between Johannine symbolism
and the pervasive ancient understanding that the serpent alone has
the secret to immortality and wins back its youth yearly?
Figure 1. Asclepius. Roman Period. Courtesy of the Hermitage. JHC

Raising such intriguing questions leads us to an ancient body of

twenty-seven documents that are now labeled “the New Testament.”
What are these texts, and how should one study them in search of a
better grasp of ancient ophidian iconography? Before digging into the
Fourth Gospel, we should pause and consider the problems
confronted in the so-called New Testament.

Figure 2. Christ as Hercules, Defeating the Serpent. From the ruins of a church in Lower
Galilee. JHC

BEING HONEST ABOUT HOW THE NEW TESTAMENT

TOOK SHAPE
Why is there such confusion regarding the study of the New
Testament? Why have New Testament experts explored the deep
symbolisms in the Fourth Gospel but shown little or no interest in the
history of symbology generally and the study of ophidian symbolism
specifically? The first question is raised because of claims found in the
New Testament and the highly charged methods with which these
texts are studied. They are not simply ancient texts according to
Christians; they have a contemporary authority and message. The
second question is raised because the New Testament texts demand
so much intensive labor that sometimes broad issues, such as
symbology, are left to be considered later, which often means never.
How did the New Testament take shape? For more than two
centuries, at least, scholars in all Western societies have come to a
consensus on how the New Testament writings were composed.
Attempts to communicate academic discoveries to the church and
synagogue—and to the wider public—have not been as successful as
sharing the fruits of other scientific explorations. Seminary students
study for three years at the major seminaries such as Princeton
Theological Seminary. They are taught what scholars have learned
about the composition of the books selected as “the Bible;” they often
do extremely well in our classes, and then they leave us to serve a
local church. Within a few years, their interest has shifted to the needs
of the congregation, and often as young pastors they are no longer
dedicated to struggling against the ignorance of those who pick up the
Bible and read it as if it were this morning’s newspaper. Fearing that
the local church leaders may not be supportive, they frequently forget
our teachings and proceed to preach and teach, far too often, as if the
uneducated have the final word on the composition of the biblical
books. For example, 1 Timothy, which is a work by someone
influenced by Paul, is placarded as Paul’s own composition.
It is no wonder then that most people in the highways and byways
of our culture assume that the Gospel of Matthew and the Gospel of
John were composed by the disciples of Jesus who are called
“Matthew” and “John, the son of Zebedee.” The assumption is that
these works are by eyewitnesses—Matthew and John heard what
Jesus said and saw what he did. Furthermore, it is presupposed that
we have exactly what they wrote and that no changes have been
made by the Greek scribes who copied what had been written. We are
assured that the Gospels we have are identical to the compositions
that left the desks of Jesus’ disciples.
 Now, let us be honest. All of this is incorrect. It is false, and the
truth about the origins of our Gospels has been known for about two
hundred years.
The Gospel attributed to Matthew cannot have been written by an
eyewitness of Jesus and his first disciples. All New Testament scholars
would be pleased if this assumption could prove to be the father of a
valid conclusion. But, alas, the First Gospel was written over fifty years
after Jesus’ crucifixion, and—most important—the author, who is
anonymous and unknown, based his story of Jesus on the Gospel of
Mark, which was written first. And Mark never met Jesus. Attempts to
prove that the Gospel of Matthew is either early or not literarily
dependent on Mark are usually fired by Christian apologetics, in the
sad attempt to “shore up the faith.” Moreover, the author of the First
Gospel is understandably more interested in serving the needs of his
community than in giving us a factual, objective, and uninterpretive
account of what Jesus said and did.
The identity of the Fourth Evangelist is also unknown. The attempts
to prove that he must be John the son of Zebedee have failed, and the
two major commentaries on the Fourth Gospel, written by Roman
Catholics, have shown that the Beloved Disciple is probably not the
Apostle John.12 The Fourth Gospel, the focus of our attention, reached
its present form (with 7:53–8:11) sometime in the second century CE.
An earlier form, the second edition, appeared in the late nineties, and
the first edition—which we cannot date with precision—was
composed, I am convinced, probably in the mid-sixties. The author
inherited earlier sources, as I shall try to clarify later.
Another point needs to be clarified. We do not have even one
fragment of the Gospels from the first century. We must work on
second century, and even much later, copies of the Gospels to discern
what the author may have written. I have announced the discovery of a
copy of Mark that dates from the sixth century CE, and scholars around
the world are eagerly waiting to hear what variant readings it might
contain.13 We text critics of the New Testament have grudgingly been
forced to admit that many times scribes, who were copying the books
of the New Testament, deliberately altered the text. Sometimes the
alterations were for doctrinal reasons, sometimes they were caused by
what seems to have been an embarrassing saying or episode. Often it
was to “correct” the text in light of more recent theologies and
Christologies.
Do these discoveries prove that the Gospels cannot preserve the
inviolate word of God? Is it not clear that the Gospels can no longer be
used authoritatively for salvation and for Christian living and thinking?
Such conclusions usually result when members of a congregation
learn that they cannot believe what they had been told. They lose faith
in the preaching and integrity of preachers and teachers. What can be
said to correct this error?
Obviously, Christian salvation and teaching cannot be based on
what is false. The discovery of the truth can transport us back into the
time of the evangelists, and, to a certain extent, even further.
Sometimes, thanks to critical research, we are taken back into the time
of Jesus, perhaps even into his presence. Scholarship has not
deafened us to the word of God; it has helped scholars, who are often
professors and preachers, to hear more clearly God’s word within the
words of Scripture. The result is not a dependence on historians—it is
an awakening of spirituality. I think we can hear the voices of those
who are being freed from the dogmatism of literalism to spiritualism in
some of the songs by Sting and Enya.
In the attempt to be honest—to clear the air—so that the present
search can be understood, I have chosen to present seventeen
succinct points on being honest about the shaping of the New
Testament, with special attention to the Gospels, especially the Fourth
Gospel, since that masterpiece is the focal point of the present
investigation. Each of these seventeen points results from over two
hundred years of intense and focused research on Early Judaism and
Christian origins; not one is idiosyncratic.
1. Jesus was born during the reign of Herod the Great, who was
king from 37 to 4 BCE. Most likely Jesus was born sometime before 6
BCE, since Matthew reports that King Herod sought to kill Jesus in
Bethlehem. Herod ordered his troops to massacre all boys up to two
years of age in and near Bethlehem (Mt 2:16).
2. Jesus was crucified by Roman soldiers in 30 CE, during the
prefecture of Pontius Pilate (26–36 CE) whose name and title have
been located on a stone found in Caesarea Maritima.
3. Jesus’ ministry was from approximately 26 to 30 CE.
4. Jesus wrote nothing, but he was able to write if we take literally
John 7:53–8:11.
5. Jesus focused his thoughts into well-crafted speech, designed to
be heard and not read. His words were shaped by intensive and
thoughtful preparation.
 6. His words were often deeply metaphorical and pictorial. Rather
than warning that piety should not be ostentatious, he stated that it
was easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a
rich person to enter heaven (Lk 18:25).
7. There is absolutely no record that anyone who heard his
speeches copied them; and—of course—there were no video or tape
recorders two thousand years ago.
8. Jesus spoke Aramaic, and he knew Hebrew, some Greek (if he
spoke to Pilate), and a little Latin (since he is shown to have related to
Roman soldiers).
9. None of his disciples wrote a Gospel. Not one of the Gospels
was written by or based on what a disciple had written. The titles to the
Gospels may be second-century additions, and the earliest extant
fragments of the Gospels date from the second century CE.
10. After Jesus’ death his message was remembered, and often by
people with incredible memories, but those who passed on what he
had said and done shaped their records based on the needs of
communities different from those Jesus had known. His message was
shaped by itinerant preachers, teachers, and prophets who carried his
message to the East and the West. The most famous of these Jewish
itinerant teachers was Paul, a recognized genius, who probably died in
Rome, where Jesus’ message preceded him.
11. Within fifteen years of Jesus’ death a collection of his sayings
was apparently put into written form. This Sayings Source, called Q,
was quoted in an edited form by both Matthew and Luke. About the
same time a Signs Source was composed and it was used by the
Fourth Evangelist who retained some of the numbers of the signs (see
Jn 2:11, 4:54). These are well-accepted “facts” that are taught in the
leading seminaries and universities in the United States and abroad.
Less well established is a probability to which I subscribe: The Gospel
of Thomas seems to be another Sayings Source, but it was shaped by
later Christians.
12. Mark, conceivably Peter’s secretary, most likely wrote the First
Gospel. It was completed either just before or after the burning of
Jerusalem by the Roman armies in 70 CE, since chapter 13 knows
either that this epochal event has already happened or is a foregone
conclusion.
13. Matthew and Luke were probably composed in the eighties.
They depended on Mark’s outline of Jesus’ life, as well as on the
otherwise lost Sayings Source (Q), in addition to traditions that they
alone inherited and shaped.
14. The Fourth Gospel also took shape very early. The author
probably did not depend on Mark and utilized sources independent of
the other intra-canonical gospels. A first edition may have appeared in
the mid-sixties and a second edition in the late nineties. Some of the
Fourth Evangelist’s sources derive ultimately from the forties, thirties,
and, when freed from the Evangelist’s own theology, into the twenties
when Jesus was teaching. Thus, behind the sayings of Jesus in the
Fourth Gospel may be reworked sayings of Jesus or valid summaries
of what he had intended to communicate to his fellow Jews.
15. All four Gospels are shaped by the Easter faith, the
proclamation that Jesus did not end his life on the cross but was
resurrected by God during the Passover festival in Jerusalem in 30 CE.
Thus, the Gospels are not so much histories as they are proclamations
of the good news that God was present in Jesus, who is the Messiah
(the Christ) promised to God’s people and the One who as Christ will
return in glory, triumphantly bringing to fruition all the promises
associated with the Messiah or Christ.
16. The Fourth Evangelist wrote his Gospel as his theological
affirmation of Jesus. He was not interested in producing the first
biography of Jesus. He shaped Jesus’ life and message for a time and
a community that was appreciably different from the ones experienced
by Jesus.
17. Each evangelist shaped Jesus’ message in terms of his own
theology. The evangelists’ own thoughts are often subtly couched in
their narratives, which reflect the myths and symbols that shaped first-
century culture. If we want to know what the Fourth Evangelist
intended to say to his own community and others who might have read
his work, then we must immerse ourselves in the symbolisms of his
time. That is indeed the task of the present work.

THE PROBLEM WITH COMMENTARIES ON JOHN 3:14

Brilliant and gifted commentators on the Fourth Gospel often tell the
reader what any seminary student of this gospel knows: that “to raise
up” is the Evangelist’s way of celebrating Jesus’ crucifixion as a
triumph rather than a failure (see Jn 8:28, 12:32–34). This emphasis,
most likely, is one of the major differences between the Synoptic
gospels (Mt, Mk, and Lk, which relate Jesus’ life synoptically) and the
Johannine Gospel. As J. Ashton states, “Where John differs from the
Synoptics is chiefly in his reluctance to see the crucifixion as
demeaning or degrading.”14 Ashton then goes on to point to the Fourth
Evangelist’s unique meaning given to hupsod, which he takes to
denote not only “to exalt” but “to lift up” on the cross. Actually, if it were
not for the Fourth Evangelist’s peculiar use of hupsod, we would
assume that it meant, as it does prior to the Fourth Gospel, only “to
exalt.”
Note how the commentators avoid any discussion of the
Evangelist’s typological use of the symbol of a serpent for Jesus and
their preoccupation with the verb “to lift up.” Note these representative
samples, which are characteristically erudite and insightful for
exegesis and exposition of John 3:14:

The central idea of this verse is that of the lifting up of the Messiah.… to the very fact of His
suspension on the cross. [Godet, 1886, reprinted in 1978]15

The allusion to the serpent in the wilderness (Num. xxi, 8.9) is very clear, and John never
employs this word [i.e., ] except to signify the exaltation of the Passion (viii, 28; xii,
32.34). [Lagrange, 1925]16

…. and for those who are in the secret the “elevation” of the Son of man in iii.14–15 suggests
the thought of the cross; but the suggestion is left undeveloped. [Dodd, 1960]17

The event which is necessary in order that faith may receive eternal life is the exaltation of the
“Son of Man.”… V. 14 mentions only the exaltation; this is the fulfillment of the Son’s mission,
and by this alone is it made effective (cf. 13.31f.), for it is the exalted, glorified Lord who is the
object of Christian faith. [Bultmann, 1964 (German), ET in 1971]18

John exploits three points which he sees as intrinsically connected: the “exaltation,” its salvific
power and the divine plan behind all. [Schnackenburg, 1965 (German), ET in 1987]19

The phrase “to be lifted up” refers to Jesus’ death on the cross. This is clear not only from the
comparison with the serpent on the pole in vs. 14, but also from the explanation in xii 33…. [I]n
John “being lifted up” refers to one continuous action of ascent: Jesus begins his return to his
Father as he approaches death (xiii 1) and completes it only with his ascension (xx 17).
[Brown, 1966]20

The Lord clearly viewed His death as being in line with the purpose of God as foreshadowed in
the Old Testament, wherein the sacrifice for sin takes on the character of sin and thereby
provides the antidote to the death-bearing malady (cf. Jn 3:14 and Num. 21:6–9). [Cook,
1979]21

The Son of Man must be “exalted,” crucified, “that whoever believes in him may have eternal
life.” [Haenchen, 1980 (German), ET in 1984]22

Moses’ serpent of bronze, if looked upon with trust in God, preserved the Israelites from death
(cf. Num. 21:9). The exalted Jesus, looked on believingly, gives the life of the final eon
(“eternal life”) to those who believe (v. 15; cf. Dan. 12:2). [Sloyan, 1988]23

. … the deepest point of connection between the bronze snake and Jesus was in the act of
being “lifted up.” [Carson, 1991]24

And, just as that serpent was “lifted up” in the wilderness, so, Jesus says, “the Son of Man
must be lifted up.” This must refer to his being “lifted up” on the cross. [Morris, 1995]25

The consensus is that the Greek of John 3:14–15 means that the
simile refers to Jesus, as the Son of Man, being lifted up (little is made
of the simile of the serpent). None of these commentators discusses
the symbology of Jesus as the serpent. In fact, they mention the
serpent almost routinely and usually only when Numbers is quoted.
The experts on John merely suggest that Jesus is like the serpent only
in the parallel of being raised up. They fail to observe the symbolism
and misrepresent the symbolic meaning of John 3:14–15. Perhaps
they have been too influenced by previous commentators and have
also resisted, or been oblivious of, any implication that Jesus may be
like a serpent, which often symbolized life.
Far too often biblical experts harbor the presupposition that the
serpent symbolized only evil in antiquity and, sad to report, this
assumption continues unexamined. One may find a nuance of this
penchant in T. L. Brodie’s work. He writes as if the narrative in
Numbers 21 implies that the copper serpent is the same as the
venomous ones: “It is by facing the thing which most terrifies—by
putting the fiery serpent on a standard and looking straight at it (Num
21:8–9)—that greater life is achieved.”26 The fiery serpent is not put on
a standard; Moses makes a metal serpent and places it on a stake.
Do any of the New Testament commentators consider the
possibility that the serpent symbolically represents Jesus or that it is a
typos of Jesus? Yes, in addition to the previous quotation from
Schnackenburg, note his following comment: “The point of the
comparison is neither the stake nor the serpent, but the ‘exaltation.’ “27
At least Schnackenburg pondered the possibility. Earlier, Bultmann
noted in his masterful commentary on the Fourth Gospel the opinion
that the Fourth Evangelist placed “no emphasis on the identification of
Jesus with the serpent” (p. 152). This is correct, but Bultmann
apparently perceived that John, without emphasis, identified Jesus
with the serpent. Thus, it is worth exploring how and in what ways, if at
all, the Fourth Evangelist thought of Moses’ upraised serpent as a
typos of Jesus.
Some commentators come closer than Bultmann in seeing—as did
Justin, Irenaeus, Augustine, and Calvin—that the Fourth Evangelist
compared Christ, as the Son of Man, to the copper serpent. E.
Ruckstuhl suggested that the actual comparison between the serpent
and the Son of Man is to emphasize the lifting up of the Christ not only
on the cross but up into heaven and to the right hand of God. But he
also states that “as the serpent was lifted and placed on a standard, so
(must be raised) the Son of Man on the cross.”28 The thought is not
developed or expanded and is perhaps no more than a paraphrase of
John 3:14. The commentators who seem closest to perceiving the
simile of Jesus as a serpent are P. W. Comfort and W. C. Hawley. In
their Opening the Gospel of John, they conclude that “Jesus was not
comparing himself directly to the serpent—although the indirect simile
cannot be excluded.”29 Does this statement not beg the question and
prompt deep exploration into the symbology in the Fourth Gospel,
especially a possible ophidian Christology?
The phenomena that plague the New Testament field are also
reflected in works that point to the cultural setting of the New
Testament documents. The valuable Hellenistic Commentary to the
New Testament presents a history-of-religions parallel to help the
exegete understand John 3:14,30 but the reader is told only of the
importance of Pseudo-Callisthenes’ Life and Deeds of Alexander of
Macedonia 2.21:7–11. The sole use of the long citation is to point up
the double meaning of some words, especially “to lift up.” The
reference is simply in line with that found in the commentaries; no
information is provided to help the reader of the New Testament
understand the possible portrayal of Jesus as a serpent.
C. R. Koester’s Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel 31 does not
discuss the concept of the serpent in the Fourth Gospel; but he does
correctly stress, as we shall demonstrate, the prerequisite for
understanding the symbolism that shaped it: “Johannine symbolism
cannot be treated adequately within the confines of one discipline; it
demands consideration of the literary, the socio-historical, and the
theological aspects of the text” (p. xi).
Why have New Testament commentators missed the possible
ophidian symbolism of John 3:14–15? Why have they avoided the
apparent implications of this passage and circumvented the conclusion
that Jesus is being compared to a serpent? The most important reason
is the contemporary loss of the ancient symbolic language; as H.
Bayley demonstrated, long ago in 1912, in his The Lost Language of
Symbolism, we have lost touch with the origins of our language and its
grounding in nature and the world that sustains us.
More should be suggested on why New Testament experts miss
the in-depth meaning of symbols. On the one hand, these scholars
have seldom been trained in symbolism; and, unlike many of their Old
Testament colleagues, they have not been intimately involved in the
archaeology and iconography of the Near East. On the other hand—
and indeed more important—their biblical exegesis is perhaps too
influenced by hermeneutics and theology, coupled, perhaps, with fears
of condemnation from church leaders, dogmatic theologians, and
administrators who issue salary checks and control raises and
promotions. No New Testament scholar would want to be branded as
one who thought of Jesus as a snake. Hence, the potential resistance
to my present research might be considerable.
As we shall soon see, New Testament commentators receive rather
low marks in interpreting the rich symbolism of John 3:14–15, but Old
Testament commentators earn praise for their exegesis of Numbers
21:8–9, exactly the passage cited by the Fourth Evangelist. Perhaps
this discrepancy within the biblical field results because Old Testament
experts, in contrast to their New Testament colleagues, are forced to
include archaeology and to study the myths and symbols that have
shaped the biblical narratives.
It is surprising that some of the best insights regarding the symbolic
meaning of John 3:14 appear not in commentaries on the Fourth
Gospel but in commentaries on Numbers. For example, D. T. Olson in
his Numbers offers the following insights:

The serpent is a potent symbol of both life and death. … The bronze serpent in Numbers 21 is
one of the best-known images of the book of Numbers for Christians because of its use by
Jesus in the Gospel of John. … The words of Jesus emphasize God’s desire to give eternal
life to all those who look to and believe in Jesus.32

We now turn to what commentators report about the symbolic meaning

of the serpent in Numbers 21, which is the intertext of John 3:14.

THE ATTRACTIVENESS OF COMMENTARIES ON

NUMBERS 21:8–9
According to Numbers 13–14, the loss of faith in Yahweh threatens the
existence of the Exodus generation. Fortunately, the Hebrews confess
their sins. After hearing about the death of Aaron (20:22–29), the
reader is told the story of the last in a series of complaints by the
Hebrews, and it is the most devastating because the complaint is
directly against God and Moses (21:5).33 God thus sends poisonous
snakes among the people, and these kill many of them. The people
come to Moses and confess their sin; they ask him to pray for them.
He fulfills their request. Here is the text that is crucial for us (Num
21:8–9):

And the Lord said to Moses, “Make a poisonous serpent,34 and set it on a pole; and everyone
who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it on a
pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze
and live. [NRSV]

Figure 3. Bronze Menorah with Seven Serpents. Roman Period (?). Courtesy Shlomo
Moussaieff. JHC

Two points are significant: the symbol of a serpent that gives life and
the requisite action of trusting and looking up to the symbol of a
serpent for healing. As Olson states, “The serpent was a symbol of evil
power and chaos from the underworld as well as a symbol of fertility,
life, and healing. The copper (or bronze) serpent in Numbers 21 bears
some relationship to a healing ritual known as sympathetic magic,
common in the ancient Near East.”35
This section of Numbers is thoughtfully composed. The “poisonous”
snakes are actually “fiery” snakes, signifying at once two ideas: the
burning sensation when venom attacks the human body, and the fiery
anger of God when the people earlier complained to Yahweh (Num
11:1–2).36 Moses makes the serpent (nehaš) of copper or bronze
(nehōšet).
The exegesis of Numbers 21:8–9 has been improved by two
related archaeological discoveries. First, the image of a winged
serpent placed on a rod is engraved on a bronze bowl found in the
royal palace in Nineveh; it dates from the later part of the eighth
century BCE. Moreover, on the bowl can be seen inscribed a Hebrew
name. Many scholars suggest insightfully that this bowl was booty
taken from ancient Palestine by Tiglath-pileser III (745–727) or
Sennacherib (in 701 he besieged Jerusalem), and that it once was
displayed in the Temple cult in Jerusalem. If this advice is sound, we
have palpable evidence today of the positive symbol of a serpent in
ancient Israel. Perhaps the bowl symbolized the story about the fiery
serpents and the copper serpent made by Moses, according to
Numbers.37
Second, a 12.5-centimeter-long copper serpent was found at
Timna’ (north of the Gulf of Aqabah); it dates from the period 1200–
900 BCE.38 Milgrom offers the learned opinion that this discovery
indicates “the snake story was inserted” into the narrative in Numbers
“precisely when Israel was in the vicinity of the Timna’ copper
mines.”39
The play on words (paronomasia) in Numbers 21 has most likely
helped to shape the careful crafting of words in John 3:14. In
Numbers, the “serpent” (nehaš) is made of “copper” (nehōšet), which
as S. R. Hirsch stressed, brings out the purpose of the figure;40 that is,
the word for “copper” in Hebrew sounds like “serpent” and thereby
draws the reader’s attention to the serpent. The narrator chose his
words carefully to indicate why Moses made the “copper serpent” and
placed it on a pole.
Is it possible that a similar paronomasia may be found in the Fourth
Gospel? Does the twofold meaning of the Greek verb in John 3:14
—”to lift up” and “to exalt”—contain the Fourth Evangelist’s
Christological perspective? It is conceivable that the Fourth Evangelist
couched his words artistically to indicate the following: Jesus did not
die on the cross; he was exalted on it. Hence he gives life, like the
serpent. To all who look up to him, who is from above, he imparts life.
Later, in the chapter devoted to the exegesis of John 3:14, we shall
explore these exegetical possibilities.
The thrust of the passage in Numbers is that as the poisonous
snake brought death, so the upraised copper serpent on the pole shall
give life to all who look up to it. To demonstrate this idea, the
commentators on Numbers 21:8–9 must first bring out the concept of
the serpent as good.41 They frequently do so; note these
representative examples:42

In the present story the widespread religio-historical concept of the serpent as the
representation or symbol of a god of healing to which one must turn might also play a part.
[Noth, 1966 (German), ET in 1968]43

In Egypt the Pharaoh had a replica of a cobra fixed to his crown for protection. [Maarsingh,
1985 (Dutch), ET in 1987]44

In the ancient Near East, “the snake was rightly seen as a symbol of life and fruitfulness.”
[Jagersma, 1988]45

The homeopathic use of snakes is a distinctive feature of ancient Egypt. … The association of
snakes with healing is attested elsewhere in the Near East. [Milgrom, 1990]46

. … copper was employed widely for making snakes used in cult worship by the ancient Near
Eastern peoples. [Harrison, 1990]47

The serpent was a symbol … of fertility, life and healing. [Olson, 1996]48

The commentators on Numbers must also stress that the good

serpent, “the copper (or bronze) serpent,” brings “life” for all who look
up to it. Note how these scholars successfully bring out this meaning
of the story.

… release from the fatal effects of the serpent bites is linked to a test of obedience set by
Yahweh in his free judgment. [Noth, 1966 (German), ET in 1968]49

. … all who were afflicted with the deadly poison were directed to fix their gaze upon this
objectified evil lifted up in the air; those who did so would be healed. [Maarsingh, 1985
(Dutch), ET in 1987]50

Hence the raising of the copper snake on a standard is a sign of salvation in the wilderness.
[Jagersma, 1988]51

Those who looked at the snake recovered. [Milgrom, 1990]52

One who looks at it shall be healed of the snake bite. [Scharbert, 1992]53

The Lord’s response was somewhat homeopathic in nature, consisting of a bronze serpent
erected upon a pole that mediated God’s healing power to any sufferer who looked upward at
it. [Harrison, 1990]54

In both the command (v. 8) and its fulfillment (v. 9), healing must be accompanied by an act of
obedience to Yahweh: looking at the image of the snake. … a definite act of the will—if one
wanted to be healed. [Ashley, 1993]55

. … the pole with the bronze serpent stood between the dead who were not willing to look to
God’s chosen instrument of healing and the living who were willing and were healed (21:9).
[Olson, 1996]56
 For the first time in the history of salvation, God commands some
action from the Hebrews. This point was emphasized by J. G. Frazer
in his Folklore in the Old Testament 57 and by K. R. Joines in her
Serpent Symbolism in the Old Testament. 58 We have succeeded in
establishing the second criterion: that the serpent was admired in Old
Testament times.
Old Testament experts have accurately understood the full
symbolism of Numbers 21:8–9. They have emphasized that serpents
were symbols of good as well as evil. They have explicated the life-
giving symbolism of the copper (or bronze) serpent, and they
demonstrate the importance of the positive meaning of ophidian
symbolism for understanding Numbers 21. These scholars have been
trained in symbolism and in the iconography of the Near East. Since
many of these scholars are not Christians, they are not in any way
concerned about Christian dogmatics.

MOSES’ IMAGE AND THE SECOND COMMANDMENT

There is a problem exegetes have confronted in interpreting Numbers

21:8, “Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Make a seraph figure and mount
it on a standard. And if anyone who is bitten looks at it, he shall
recover’ “ [TANAKH]. The problem was noted long ago in the second
century CE by Justin Martyr in his Dialogue with Trypho (94). Has not
God broken one of God’s own commandments?
According to Scripture, God revealed the Ten Commandments, and
he said: “You shall not make for yourself a sculptured image, or any
likeness of what is in the heavens above, or on the earth below, or in
the waters under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve
them” (Exod 20:4–5; cf. Deut 5:7–10; TANAKH). Hence, did not God
break the second commandment when God instructed Moses to make
an image of a serpent? Obviously, the “likeness” of a serpent is an
image of what is “on the earth below” and also “in the waters under the
earth.”
The author of the Epistle of Barnabas, perhaps composed a little
earlier than Justin Martyr’s work, explains away the problem. Moses,
following God’s word, commanded Israel not to make an image to
worship, yet “makes one himself to show a type of Jesus.”59
How did ancient Jews justify making images if they had been
prohibited by God from crafting them? In light of the vast amount of
iconographic images now available from Second Temple Judaism, it is
wise to ponder how Jews—and even Israelites before the Exile—
interpreted the second commandment. Perhaps some Jews began to
understand the second commandment not as anti-iconic (a prohibition
against making an image) but anti-idolic (a prohibition against making
an image as an idol).60 That is, the command was not one long
prohibition; it consisted of two parts. Those who obeyed God’s
commandments could make images (whether sculptures or paintings),
but they must not worship them.61 Hence, according to this reasoning,
God does not break God’s commandment. God instructs Moses to
make an image, but God never intended anyone to “bow down” to it “or
serve” it. Rather, in looking up to the serpent on a stake, the Israelites
were affirming their dependence on God.

Figure 4. A Demon with a Phallic Serpent in an Early Church, Northern Spain. Before fourth
century CE. JHC

THE PRESUPPOSITION THAT THE SERPENT DENOTES

ONLY EVIL OR SATAN

An Unexamined Presupposition

The commentators on the Fourth Gospel tend to assume—without

investigation—that the “serpent” is only a pejorative symbol. This point
is illustrated by a comment found in D. Simpson’s Judas Iscariot: The
Man of Mystery, History, and Prophecy. 62 His exegesis of Genesis
3:15, where God curses the serpent, and of John 13:21, which
narrates the entry of Satan into Judas, is typical of popular exegesis:
“By the possession, Judas becomes the seed of the serpent, Satan,
the son of perdition; at all events, he is then revealed as such by our
Lord Himself” (p. 48).
What can be dismissed as emotionalism or uninformed exegesis
appears pervasively in scholarly works. Those who assume that the
snake is always a negative symbol can mine the biblical text to prove
their point. According to Leviticus 11:41–43, the serpent cannot be
eaten because it is an abomination and would make one unclean.
The Apocrypha also may be mined—which is not acceptable
methodology—to prove that the snake is evil. The author of the
Wisdom of Solomon seems to be alluding to Numbers 21 when he
refers to God’s wrath that was meted out by “the stings of crooked
snakes” (Wis 16:5). According to the second-century Jewish scholar
Sirach, the snake is evil. He instructs his “son” to flee from sin as “from
the face of a snake” (Sir 21:2). Later, he warns that as there is no
wrath greater than the wrath of an enemy, so there is “no head above
the head of a snake” (Sir 25:15). According to the author of 4
Maccabees 18:8, who is roughly contemporaneous with the Fourth
Evangelist, the righteous mother of the seven sons reports that “the
destructive, deceitful snake ( )” did not spoil her virginity. This verse
is surely an example of the snake as a pejorative symbol of the
phallus.
The authors of publications on the history of evil or on Satan
customarily do not ask if the serpent can signify positive as well as
negative concepts; they presuppose that the serpent is a symbol of
evil and denotes Satan. Note these examples (in chronological order):

…. the serpent, of old the “seer,” was, in its Semitic adaptation, the tempter to forbidden
knowledge. Satan played this part to our ancestors in the Garden of Eden. [Rudwin, 1931]63

Both the Hebrew and the Persian Devil are associated with the serpent. [Russell, 1977]64

Justin Martyr “established the connection between the Devil and the serpent of Eden forever
after.” [Russell, 1988]65

Next, the angel-dragon-beast was linked with “that serpent of old” responsible for the fall of
Adam and Eve from Eden. [Turner, 1993]66

Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, Belial … [is] the serpent who tempts Eve in the Garden of Eden.
[Stanford, 1996]67
There are often many brilliant and significant ideas in these books, yet
a search for the various meanings of serpent symbolism is not one of
them;68 this is essential if one is to talk about the literature in which the
serpent is mentioned. Evil appears iconographically as the snake in
many interpretations of Genesis, as Naga who is the chief among
Krishna’s enemies, as the snakes that torment Laocoon and Hercules,
and as the snake-worm that kills Sigmund, the Nordic hero.69
Questions should guide the scholar and the nonscholar, as in G.
Messadie’s The History of the Devil, “Yet we must wonder if it was
really our Devil who in the guise of the ‘subtle serpent’ of Genesis told
Eve that she and Adam would never die if they ate the fruit from ‘the
tree in the midst of the garden.’ “70 In fact, the author or compiler of
Genesis 3 does not envision the serpent as Satan, and that equation
does not appear in the Old Testament.71 It must not be assumed that
the serpent represents only, or primarily, evil or Satan in antiquity or
modernity; moreover, Satan appears in Christian literature as every
animal that had been represented by “pagans” as a god (ape, bat,
bear, bee, bull, cat, crocodile, eagle, even fish).72 According to
Tyndale’s vision, Satan appeared “blacker than a crow.”73 And one
should recall Ben Jonson’s comedy called The Devil Is an Ass.
Negative symbolic use of the snake is too well known or presumed
to need much further illustration. In the New Testament Apocrypha and
Pseudepigrapha, the examples are numerous. One example alone
must suffice. In the “Hymn of the Pearl,” we find this confession by “the
snake” or Satan in the Acts of Thomas: “I am a reptile of reptile nature
… I am he who hurled the angels down from above … I am he who
kindled Judas and bribed him to betray Christ to death” (AcThom
109:31). As we all know, the issue is not whether the serpent could
mean something negative. The question is: What did the serpent
symbolize, and did it often represent something positive?

The Ambiguity of Genesis 3

In Genesis 3 the “serpent” appears in a role that often is assumed by

critics today to represent Satan and evil. A thoughtful reading of the
text, however, prohibits one from categorizing this creation as “evil.”
The animal has been created by God and is not dumb.
What does the serpent inform the woman (Eve)? It is that she, the
mother of all life, will have knowledge of good and evil if she eats from
the tree in the middle of the garden (Gen 3:5). The woman and Adam
eat the forbidden fruit, and God confirms the insight of “the serpent” by
stating: “The man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil”
(3:22 [NRSV]). Thus, knowledge, which is certainly desirable—
according to the biblical view expressed especially in Proverbs—is
what results first from eating the forbidden fruit. Did the serpent not
speak the truth? Was this not consequently confirmed by God? What
is the meaning of Genesis 3:1? Is the serpent deceitfully clever or
cleverly wise? Rather than assuming that the serpent is evil, we need
to examine what seems to be a confusing portrayal of the serpent in
Genesis 3.
The presentation of the Genesis serpent as Satan and evil has
rightly been resisted by many authors from antiquity (see the following
discussion of ApMos) to modernity. For example, Lord Byron (1788–
1824), the Romantic poet whose compositions are frequently
autobiographical, wrote in “Cain: A Mystery” about the characteristics
of the serpent. The drama is based on an imaginative exegesis of
Genesis 3:1 that is parallel in startling ways to many legends that had
developed among the early Jews. Lord Byron said Lucifer did not
tempt Eve “in the shape of a serpent.” Byron read Genesis 3 carefully.
He correctly pointed out in his preface to “Cain” that “the book of
Genesis has not the most distant allusion to anything of the kind, but
merely to the Serpent in his serpentine capacity.”74 By attending so
carefully to the biblical narrative and not being persuaded by what a
scholar had published, Byron discloses that he would have been a fine
biblical exegete.
In Byron’s drama, Lucifer—the “Master of Spirits”—appears to Cain
as a serpent, denies that he ever tempted Adam and Eve, and
stresses that the serpent who appeared to them in the Garden of
Eden, before the fall, was neither a spirit nor a demon. Note Scene I:

The snake was the snake—

No more; and yet not less than those he tempted,
In nature being earth also—more in wisdom,
Since he could overcome them, and foreknow
The knowledge fatal to their narrow joys.75

Here in this drama is an imaginative recreation of human origins,

according to the Bible, with often brilliant attention to the details of
Genesis 3. Lord Byron removes from the serpent the condemning
cloak of evil. The portrayal of the serpent in Genesis 3 as wise and
clever—and not Satanic—appears in many other compositions that
antedate or are roughly contemporaneous with the composition of the
Fourth Gospel. It is no longer prudent to assume that the serpent is
evil in Genesis. Likewise, we dare not fail to heed the full symbolic
thrust of the Fourth Gospel in 3:14–15. Calvin, a genius in interpreting
Scripture, may provide some insights.

OVERCOMING THEOLOGICAL PRESUPPOSITIONS:

CALVIN AND JESUS THE SERPENT
Calvin (1509–1564) does indeed make the equation clear between
Jesus and the serpent. We should expect Calvin to grasp the
symbolism of John 3:14, since he was a focused, logical, and
systematic thinker; he also mastered both Greek and Latin grammar.
His commentary on the Fourth Gospel was completed in 1552, three
years before he controlled Geneva. The second edition of his
commentary appeared in that year, 1555. Although Calvin is more
interested in engaging exposition (preaching the gospel to his
followers) than historical exegesis (exploring the original meaning
intended by the Evangelist), he does state clearly that in 3:14 “Christ
compares Himself to the serpent.”76
Moreover, for Calvin the “similitude is not inappropriate or far-
fetched” (p. 72). He shuns the idea regnant among ancient and
especially modern commentators that the comparison is to Jesus’
being lifted up on the cross; for him, the verb refers to “the preaching
of the Gospel” (p. 72). He is adamant: “The explanation which some
give of it as referring to the cross does not agree with the context and
is foreign to His [the Evangelist’s] argument” (p. 72).
What does Calvin think the Evangelist meant by comparing Christ
to the serpent? He provides two logical options: a resemblance
between Christ and the serpent or a sacrament like manna. Calvin is
clear that it is the latter, although his language is opaque. He intends,
with Paul who referred to the manna as a mystery (1 Cor 10:3), to
think of the serpent in the same way. Here Calvin has substituted one
simile (the serpent and Christ) with another (the manna and the
serpent). His words, “I think it was the same with the serpent” (p. 73),
are far from lucid.
Calvin does not include any mention of the positive portrayal of the
serpent nor does he suggest that the serpent symbolizes life, healing,
wisdom, or resurrection. Nevertheless, Calvin correctly perceives that
the Fourth Evangelist presented Christ comparing himself “to the
serpent” (p. 73). These preliminary observations disclose that it is
imperative and fruitful to explore what the “serpent” symbolizes in the
Fourth Gospel and what ophidian symbology the Fourth Evangelist
might inherit. How shall we continue?

PUBLICATIONS THAT GROUND THE SEARCH

We have clarified the question that launched this research: What is the
symbolic meaning of John 3:14? It is now imperative to move beyond
the Fourth Gospel and even the canonical texts. We need to focus on
the underlying question: What did the serpent symbolize in antiquity? If
we intend to learn about the possible symbolic meaning of John 3:14,
we should attend also to broader questions: What did the serpent
symbolize in the ancient world, in the Near East, in Assyria, Babylon,
and Persia, in Egypt and Africa, in Greece and Rome, and especially
in the place where the Fourth Gospel may have been composed or the
areas from which it received its symbolism? Jerusalem and ancient
Palestine, Egypt (especially Alexandria), Antioch and eastern Syria,
and in or near Ephesus should be included in our research.
Fortunately, many gifted scholars have already contributed to the
search for answers to these questions.
After six years of examining the meaning of serpent symbolism in
antiquity, I am impressed by the vast number of books ostensibly
devoted to this concern.77 Reviewing them briefly, I am struck by three
insights.78 First, none of the authors who have worked on ophidian
iconography knows the astronomical number of publications in this
field of inquiry.79 Second, the biblical experts who have studied the
concept or symbol of the serpent in key biblical passages—notably
Genesis 3, Numbers 21, John 3, and Revelation 12—are ignorant of
the plethora of publications dedicated to the concept of the serpent.
Almost all tend to err in assuming that the serpent symbolized evil and
Satan. Third, no scholar who has published on serpent symbolism
seems to have worked in the museums and libraries that have
priceless collections of ophidian iconography, visited the sites in which
there were serpent cults, collected ophidian realia, or studied
herpetology, especially ophiology, and the taxonomic uniqueness of
the 2,900 species of snakes.
Far too many authors assume, without examining the evidence,
that the serpent simply signifies, or is an archetype of, the phallus. It is
ludicrous to think that “we have, in the Mosaic account of the ‘fall,’ a
phallic legend,” as was claimed in 1875 in Ancient Symbol Worship. 80
Many gifted thinkers have vitiated their own research by keeping one
eye, perhaps both, on Freud or Jung. Here is a sample of myopic
perusals of the meaning of the serpent:

W. H. Fischle, Das Geheimnis der Schlange (1983; 1989 [2nd ed.])

G. Sauer, Traumbild Schlange (1986; 1992 [3rd ed.])
E. Ghazal, Schlangenkult und Tempelliebe (1995)
B. A. Mertz, Dein archetypisches Tier (1997)

Despite their lack of historical criticism and failure to explore the

ancient (or primordial) mind that invented serpent images, these
publications are often full of penetrating insights, especially into human
psychology.81 Unfortunately, none of these authors apparently knows
that in the Indian Tantric cult a goddess is depicted with a serpent-
phallus emerging from the vulva,82 that some “gods” in antiquity are
depicted with an erect phallus that is a serpent (see the following
chapters), or that the Egyptian fertility god named Min is depicted as
ithyphallic and also with an upraised hand (see the relief on the temple
of Chon in Karnak).83
Equally devoid of an open investigation of the varied symbolical
meanings of the serpent in antiquity and world culture are the
numerous books that are theocentric or Christocentric. Such authors
are content to explain how God or Christ has conquered the serpent.
Here are some examples:

W. Kramp, Protest der Schlange (1970)

E. W. Lutzer, The Serpent of Paradise (1996)

H. Fritsche’s Die Erhöhung der Schlange (1994 [4th ed.]) is a mixture

of psychology and theology. One will not find in his book a search for
the meaning of ophidian iconography.
I now list in chronological order the books and monographs on
ophidian iconography and symbology that I have found during my
research in many countries (and from most of which I have learned
something):84

H. Clarke and C. S. Wake, Serpent and Siva Worship (1877)

W. Boelsche, Drachen (1929)
P. Lum, Fabulous Beasts (1951)
A. Rosenberg, Michael und der Drache (1956)
J. Fontenrose, Python: A Study of Delphic Myth and Its Origins (1959) J. L. Henderson and M.
Oakes, The Wisdom of the Serpent (1963, 1990)
D. Krekoukias, Gli animali nella meterorologia popolare degli antichi Greci (1970)
L. Bodson, Contribution à l’étude de la place de l’animal dans la religion grecque ancienne
(1978) M. Burkolter-Trachsel, Der Drache (1981) H. Egli, Das Schlangensymbol (1982)
K. Zimniok, Die Schlange das unbekannte Wesen: In der Kulturgeschichte, freien Natur und im
Terrarium (1984)
B. Johnson, Lady of the Beasts: Ancient Images of the Goddess and Her Sacred Animals
(1988, 1990)
H. M. Lins, Tiere in der Mythologie und ihre religiöse Symbolkraft (1990, 1994 [2nd ed.])
G. A. Samonà, Il sole, la terra, il serpente (1991)
F. Huxley, The Dragon (1992)
A. de Pury, Homme et animal Dieu les créa (1993)
J. A. West, Serpent in the Sky (1993)
S. Golowin, Drache, Einhorn, Oster-Hase (1994)
M. Nissenson and S. Jonas, Snake Charm (1995)
J. Cherry, Mythical Beasts (1995)
K. Shuker, Dragons (1995; 1997 [German edition])
P. Bandini, Drachenwelt (1996; a translation of Mondo Drago)
P. Busch, Der gefallene Drache (1996)
C. Paul-Stengel, Schlangenspuren (1996)
B. Young, The Snake of God (1996)

Worthy of special attention, because of its breath, quality, and

perception (if dated), is M. O. Howey’s The Encircled Serpent: A Study
of Serpent Symbolism in All Countries and Ages (1926). In his The
Bosom Serpent (1988), H. Schechter illustrates that folklore reveals
the fictive imagination of humans. And K. Lapatin—in his Mysteries of
the Snake Goddess (2002)—demonstrates the problems with forging
history and then exploring ophidian symbology in light of fakes.85
Many significant books examine the snake handlers who take the
appendix to Mark literally;86 here is a selection:

J. B. Collins, Tennessee Snake Handlers (1947)

W. La Barre, They Shall Take Up Serpents (1962)
R. W. Pelton and K. W. Carden, Snake Handlers (1974)
S. M. Kane, Snake Handlers of Southern Appalachia (1979)
T. Burton, Serpent-Handling Believers (1993)
D. L. Kimbrough, Taking Up Serpents (1995)

Still valuable are such classics as E. R. Goodenough’s Jewish

Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period and L. Ginzberg’s The Legends
of the Jews. Outstanding books on the meaning of the serpent in the
ancient Near East, the Bible, Judaism, and Christianity have appeared
over the past two decades (although none of the authors has really
studied most of the books already cited or closely examined ophidian
realia). The following works add significantly to K. R. Joines’ Serpent
Symbolism in the Old Testament: 87

M. Avi-Yonah, Art in Ancient Palestine (1981)

R. Hachlili, Ancient Jewish Art and Archaeology in the Land of Israel (1988)
E. Pagels, Adam, Eve, and the Serpent (1988)
R. Milburn, Early Christian Art and Architecture (1988, 1989)
A. Golan, Myth and Symbol: Symbolism in Prehistoric Religions (1991)
P. Prigent, L’Image dans le Judaïsme du IIeau VIeSiècles (1991)
H. Schreckenberg and K. Schubert, Jewish Historiography and Iconography in Early and
Medieval Christianity (1992)
S. Koh, An Archaeological Investigation of the Snake Cult in the Southern Levant (1994)
F. Tristan, Les premières images chrétiennes (1996)
H. de Borchgrave, A Journey into Christian Art (1999, 2000)
J. G. Westenholz, ed., Images of Inspiration: The Old Testament in Early Christian Art (2000)
L. S. Wilson, The Serpent Symbol in the Ancient Near East (2001)

Reading and studying these publications can be enriched by additional

examinations of some fairly recent publications devoted to Greek and
Roman art and symbolism, especially these:

J. Hirschen, ed., La grammaire des formes et des styles: Antiquité (1981)

J. J. Pollitt, Art in the Hellenistic Age (1986, 1999)
P. Zanker, The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus (1988, 2000)
L. Burn, The British Museum Book of Greek and Roman Art (1991, 1999)
R. Turcan, The Cults of the Roman Empire (1996; French of 1992)
J. Elsner, Imperial Rome and Christian Triumph: The Art of the Roman Empire AD 100–450
(1998)
J. Onians, Classical Art and the Cultures of Greece and Rome (1999)
W. Ball, Rome in the East: The Transformation of an Empire (2000)

Research into any form of symbolism is enhanced if one obtains a

panoramic view of ancient symbology by examining the most important
lexicons on the subject, such as the following:

E. Kirschbaum, Lexikon der christlichen Ikonographie (1968, 1990)

J. Chevalier and A. Gheerbrant, A Dictionary of Symbols (1969, 1996)
N. G. L. Hammond and H. H. Scullard, The Oxford Classical Dictionary (1970 [2nd ed.])
G. Heinz-Mohr, Lexikon der Symbole (1971, 1983 [7th ed.], 1998)
M. Lurker, Lexikon der Götter und Symbole der alten Ägypter (1974, 1987; reprinted in 1998)
P. Grimal, The Dictionary of Classical Mythology (1986, 1996; French of 1951)
G. J. Bellinger, Lexikon der Mythologie (1989, 1997)
G. de Champeaux and Dom S. Sterckx, Einfürung in die Welt der Symbole (1990; French of
1989)
M. Lurker, Die Botschaft der Symbole: In Mythen, Kulturen und Religionen (1990)
M. Girard, Les symboles dans le Bible (1991)
M. Lurker, ed., Wörterbuch der Symbolik (1991 [5th ed.])
H. Biedermann, Dictionary of Symbolism (1992)
J.-P. Ronecker, Le symbolisme animal (1994)
M. Cazenave, ed., Encyclopédie des symboles (1996; German of 1989)
G. Löwe and H. A. Stoll, Lexikon der Antike: Griechenland und das römische Weltreich (1997)
F. Glunk, Das große Lexikon der Symbole (1997)
P. Preston, Metzler Lexikon antiker Bildmotive (1997; English of 1983)
W. Bauer, I. Dümotz, and S. Golowin, Lexikon der Symbole (1998 [17th ed.])
M. Ferber, A Dictionary of Literary Symbols (1999)
J. C. Cooper, Illustriertes Lexikon der traditionellen Symbole (n.d.)

No publication can compare in depth and sophistication to the richly

illustrated, multivolumed Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae. It has been my source of inspiration and has helped me
refine my thoughts and reflections, but, unfortunately, it is limited to
Greek and Roman iconography.
As one examines these lexicons, one should also consult the data
amassed in Stith Thompson’s Motif-Index of Folk-Literature and
contemplate the language of art. Although Joseph Campbell’s work is
not appreciated by many scholars, I have found his books to be often
stimulating. Scholarly and informative are the insights by Mircea
Eliade.88 I have found astute the many publications by Erwin Panofsky,
especially the following:

E. Panofsky, Studies in Iconology (1939, 1962, 1972)

E. Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts (1955, 1982)
E. Panofsky, Perspective as Symbolic Form (1991; original German of 1927)

Also extremely helpful in studying Panofsky’s method and

perspectives are M. A. Holly’s Panofsky and the Foundation of Art
History (1984) and J. Elkins’ The Poetics of Perspective (1994).
 The most sophisticated methodology for studying ancient
iconography has been developed by O. Keel. He rightly stresses that
images must not be read in terms of some mythology that has
influenced us; they must be examined meditatively so that their silent
language begins to speak. I have refined my research by visiting and
talking with Keel in Freiburg and examining his numerous publications
(cited in the following pages), especially the following:

O. Keel, Die Welt der altorientalischen Bildsymbolik und das Alte Testament (1972)
O. Keel, Deine Blicke sind Tauben (1984)
O. Keel and S. Schroer, Studien zu den Stempelsiegeln aus Palästina/Israel, vol. 1 (1985)
O. Keel et al., Studien zu den Stempelsiegeln aus Palästina/Israel, vol. 2 (1989)
O. Keel et al., Studien zu den Stempelsiegeln aus Palästina/Israel, vol. 3 (1990)
O. Keel, Das Recht der Bilder Gesehen zu Werden (1992)
O. Keel, Studien zu den Stempelsiegeln aus Palästina/Israel, vol. 4 (1994)
O. Keel and C. Uehlinger, Gods, Goddesses, and Images of Gods in Ancient Israel, trans. T.
H. Trapp (1998).

Also extremely important are books published in Keel’s series,

especially U. Winter’s Frau und Göttin, H. Brunner’s Das Hörende
Herz, and A. Berlejung’s Die Theologie der Bilder. 89
If we really want to hear the symbol “speak,” and if we seek to
proceed so as not to read into the image our own presuppositions, we
should study each detail on an image, observe the whole composition,
and imagine the historical and sociological setting in which it was given
and received meaning. Most important, we should seek to enter into
the world of meaning in which the artist and his or her viewers lived.
That means not merely to visit the places in which the symbol or
similar images were employed, and perhaps revered. It demands
more: sitting, for example, in Epidaurus and imagining how and why
the devotees of Asclepius chose his symbol. It is the depiction of the
serpent curled around his staff. Such informed imagination is
supported if one holds in one’s hand a bronze image of Hermes, from
Jerusalem at the time of the Fourth Evangelist. Especially stimulating
for a perception of ophidian iconography would be evidence that he
held in his left hand a caduceus (two serpents facing each other). As J.
Milgrom urges us to engage “handmade midrash,” or visual theology,90
as I have elsewhere endeavored to show, exegetes need to join those
like Michelangelo who tried “to imagine and live within the biblical
scenes.”91
Figure 5. Hermes. Jerusalem. Early Roman Period. Bronze. Note the caduceus on his staff.
JHC Collection

When we immerse ourselves in antiquity, the sights we see are

often astounding. We see gods that are part serpents; some have
serpents as legs and feet (anguipedes). The Seraphim have wings and
feet—but are they not also serpents? Some lions have serpents for
tails. Serpents appear with beards and crowns. An odd serpent,
Ouroboros, is shown in a full circle so as to swallow his own tail.
Dragons appear in art and iconography, almost everywhere and in
almost every century. Serpents as gods or accompanying gods appear
in images or are described in literature among the Assyrians,
Babylonians, Canaanites, Hebrews, Israelites, Egyptians, Greeks,
Etruscans, and Romans. Athena appears with serpents on her
garments or around her neck. Marble sculptures, made by artisans
who seem almost as skilled as the incomparable Michelangelo, have
created living masterpieces out of marble: Asclepius with a serpent
around his staff and Hygieia holding a serpent that drinks out of a cup.
In European art alone we see a human with an elephant’s head,
gigantic serpents struggling against elephants, and one trying to
swallow a pachyderm (enacting a report found in Pliny, Nat. 8). We
also see imagined worlds filled with indescribable beasts including
reptiles and dragons, snakes devouring a tiger or a gazelle, and a
seductive woman enveloped by a dark snake.92
What are the limits of the human imagination? What did these
pictures and images symbolize? How did those who created them
envision our world, the animal kingdom, and our place within it?
Having explored almost all our globe, except the ocean’s floor, have
we lost the poetry of imagination?

SUMMARY
It is certain that we have lost the origin of our language and the
subtleties inherent in our words. Some of the lost meanings may be
found in Italian, which is rooted in Latin. In Italian, for example, we find
numerous words etymologically linked with the serpent.93 The word
serpènte signifies the literary and mythological use of “serpent” in good
and evil ways.94 The verb serpènte is the present participle of serpere
and means “to move serpentinely” in a zigzag.95 The noun
serpeninamènte denotes not only a perfidious creature but also the
possession of great agility.96 The noun serpentino indicates that
something or someone has the properties of a snake, can move in a
zigzag manner; it also denotes the ability to move elegantly and with
agility. It also has the meaning of being astute.97
What will be discovered in our search for the meaning of ophidian
symbolism? Why is the serpent a universal symbol, appearing in
virtually all creation myths, from the Australian Aborigines to the
Israelites?98 If the serpent is primarily a phallic symbol, then why can
B. Johnson conclude that “the predominant evidence from early times
presents the snake as distinctly feminine, and etymology bears out this
primal identification”?99 Is it true that the serpent is always a pejorative
symbol in Christianity, as A. T. Mann and J. Lyle contend when they
write that the snake “is always portrayed in Christian teachings as
devilish and evil”?100 What credence should be given to M. Gimbutas’
claim that the “snake is life force, a seminal symbol, epitome of the
worship of life on this earth. It is not the body of the snake that was
sacred, but the energy exuded by this spiraling or coiling creature
which transcends its boundaries and influences the surrounding
world.”101 Will the conclusions to our research prove what is reported
by M. Girard: the serpent is the animal that has given to the world of
symbolism the most varied and rich meanings?102
 Physiology Undergirds Symbology: Thirty-
2 two Virtually Unique Characteristics of a
Snake

No work on symbolism is well researched if the object featured in art

and metaphor is not examined physiologically. Consequently, ophidian
symbolism must be grounded by studying and holding snakes. These
creatures have no arms or legs, yet they seem to move effortlessly
and swiftly.
The books that have informed me about this intriguing animal are
the following:

C. Mattison, Snakes of the World (1986, rep. 1992)

J. Coborn, The Atlas of Snakes of the World (1991)
G. R. Zug, L. J. Vitt, and J. P. Caldwell, Herpetology (1993, 2001)
R. Bauchot, ed., Les Serpents (1994; Schlangen, German of 1994)
C. Mattison, The Encyclopedia of Snakes (1995)
H. W. Greene, Snakes: The Evolution of Mystery in Nature (1997)
C. Mattison, Snake (1999)

THE PSYCHE OF MODERNS: THE SERPENT

SYMBOLIZES EVIL AND SATAN

The failure of scholars in the humanities—and not only biblical experts

—to appreciate the multivalent meanings of serpent symbolism is
understandable. Beginning in the fourth century CE, as we shall see,
the leading savants in the church triumphant began to disparage
serpent imagery,1 as M. Martinek demonstrates in his book on how the
serpent became equated with the Devil (Satan, Belial, Beliar, Lucifer,
Beelzebub, Leviathan [the serpent], Samael).2
In 1728, J. J. Kambach published a book on the mystery of Jesus
Christ and the upraised serpent. His text was John 3:14. His method
was to approach the Old Testament in light of the New Testament. He
was convinced that the serpent in John 3:14 did not denote Jesus
Christ; it signified Satan. This exegesis reflects the unexamined
presupposition that the serpent is Satan.3
Figure 6. Snake Handler, Cobra, Author, and Boys. Marrakech.

In the Evangelisches Gesangbuch, we find reference to the

serpent. The image is always negative. In “Erschienen ist der herrlich
Tag,” we find the following second verse:

The old serpent, [as well as] sin and death,

[With] Hell, all misery, dread and distress
Is overcome by Jesus Christ,
Who today has risen from the dead. [my translation]4

The old serpent is the sin and death that have been destroyed by
Jesus Christ, as Paul states in Romans. There should be little wonder
that New Testament experts who memorize such hymns find it
impossible to ponder the positive symbolism of ophidian iconography,
simile, and metaphor.
The symbolism of the serpent as the embodiment of sin and death
reaches far beyond the walls of the church. For example, in F.
Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra (Thus Spake Zarathustra: On the
Other Side of Good and Evil), Zarathustra enters a region of death.
Here there is neither grass nor tree. One does not hear the sound of a
bird singing. “It was like a valley, which all the animals, even the
predators, avoid. There is one exception. One hateful species comes
here: a thick green serpent, but only when it is old in order to die.
Thus, the shepherds call this valley ‘the Serpents’ Grave’ (Schlangen-
Tod).”5 The German denotes “the Serpents’ Death.”
The symbolic meaning of the serpent to denote sin permeates
secular paintings. In 1893, Franz von Stuck visualized the concept of
woman as seductress, which was a fin-de-siècle pervasive concept,
especially in Germany before 1900. He captured the mood in his Die
Sunde (The Sins). A seductively attractive nude woman, with long
black hair, seems to beckon to the observer. She looks askance, as
Kierkegaard portrayed his seducer in his Either-Or. Alas, over the
shoulder of this heavenly endowed woman stares a threateningly black
serpent. It curls over her back and down her left shoulder. Any
possible acceptance of her bewitching invitation has dreadful
consequences.6

Figure 7. Christ Shown Spearing a Basilisk and Trampling on Asps and Snakes. North Africa.
Lamp. Circa fifth century. JHC Collection. Compare Psalm 91. See the photograph and
discussion of a similar lamp in J. G. Westenholz, Images of Inspiration: The Old Testament in
Early Christian Art (Jerusalem, 2000) p. 149.

Two years earlier, in 1891, using a greater mastery of

“symbolismus,” Franz von Stuck achieved a superior oil painting of the
costly wiles of the seductress. It is a masterpiece in the history of
symbolism. It is called Die Sinnlichkeit (Voluptuousness) and is now in
the Galerie Gunzenhause in Munich. A voluptuous woman, a sexually
alluring vamp, looks invitingly at the interested, now captivated, viewer.
Again, there is one massive problem with the seductive invitation.
Around her, from below her knee, around her thigh, through her legs
and up to her waist, around her back and over her right shoulder curls
a massive monster. It is a hideous black serpent. Its mouth is open. Its
eyes have chosen any prospective Don Juan for lunch.7 One is
reminded of R. Briffault’s claim that we should “speak of the sexual
impulse as pervading nature with a yell of cruelty rather than with a
hymn of love.”8
Why is the earlier attempt by Franz von Stuck far more successful?
Die Sinnlichkeit is much more effective and ingeniously conceived and
composed than Die Sunde. The titles are well chosen, since
Voluptuousness is far more tantalizing than Sin. And the earlier
painting is much more focused. It is also smaller; Die Sunde is 89 x 53
centimeters; Die Sinnlichkeit is 56 x 36 centimeters. But these
comments scarcely explain why the earlier painting is superior.
If von Stuck’s purpose was to present a woman who had airs of
“superiority” and the demonic, then the 1893 Die Sunde is more
effective. If he sought to depict an enticing seductress who comes with
the deadly serpent, then the 1891 Die Sinnlichkeit is far more
successful. In it, the vamp leans back invitingly. Her arms are behind
her. Her face seems to say, “Warum Nicht?” The spontaneous answer
would be, “Why not, indeed!” Her body is curvaceous and
pulchritudinous. The later painting shows the woman standing straight
up with a standoffish posture. In the earlier painting, perhaps, von
Stuck may have felt he had given too much rein to the positive and
erotic lures of a young woman and he later wanted to accent more the
mature woman as superior and demonic. Perhaps he had also
depicted the serpent too powerfully.
What makes the earlier painting far more effective and emotionally
captivating? It is the depiction of the serpent with the woman. In the
earlier painting, the serpent is much more effectively drawn. Its mouth
is open wider; its teeth and fangs are exposed and too ready for
action. Its girth is equal to the size of the young woman’s buttock. In
the 1891 painting, the serpent appears with more powerful symbology.
In contrast to the later painting, the only way to the inviting gate is
through the serpent. And in the earlier painting, the serpent has
sufficient coils behind the seductress so that it can spring forth to
action and come out from hiding. The ophidian symbolism is better
conceived and presented in the earlier painting.
Clearly, the serpent or dragon was the symbol of the god that
needed to be defeated at creation. One can think of numerous
examples, including the mythological snakes that shape the myths and
religions of those in northern Europe. For example, the primordial
serpent lived in the ocean and, like Leviathan of the Bible, it was the
monster of the deep and the chief enemy of Thor.9
I intend to demonstrate, beyond doubt, that the regnant portrayal of
the serpent as demonic and an embodiment of sin and temptation is
only a partial and misleading portrayal of the multifaceted dimensions
of ophidian iconography. There is much more to learn about this
mysterious creature. What positive symbolic meanings has the serpent
generated to be worshipped by or through by so many? Note the
following focused selection of cultural groups:10

the Aborigines in Australia and the Rainbow Serpent

the Sumerians and Akkadians who worshipped snake gods like
Nirah

Figure 8. A God and Associates Slaying the Dragon. Ancient Palestine or Syria. Courtesy of
O. Keel [Die Welt (1972) No. 48; Das Recht No. 245].

the Pharaohs and other Egyptians with their depictions of Isis and
other gods as serpents and their penchant for the uraeus
the unnamed people of the Indus Valley who depicted on a stone
bowl a male figure grasping a serpent in each hand11
the Minoans with their voluptuous serpent goddesses
the Canaanite serpent cults in Beit Shean and elsewhere
the Israelites who were associated with Nechushtan
the Python group at Delphi
the devotees of Asklepios (the Greek name) with his serpent staff,
Hermes with the caduceus, and Athena with her serpents (among
other gods) in ancient Greece
the bards who popularized the Greek myths, especially those
concerning Herakles (Hercules)
those who were devoted to Agathadaimon and employed the
Ouro-boros
the Etruscans and Romans who idealized the serpent
the Ophites who worshipped Christ as the serpent
the Gnostics who revered the serpent
the Norsemen who skillfully crafted a serpent ring for a woman
around 300 ce12
the Celts with the image of Cernunnos who holds a large
serpent13 and their double-headed guardian snakes14
the Zulus with their Mamba, or the snake hero15
the Aztecs and their feathered serpent, or Quetzalcoatl
the group in Peru who made the first-century CE drum with Nasca
iconography of a rotund figure with a snake “moving” from his chin
 and with serpent hair16
the serpent gods among the Native Americans, including the Hopi
Indians in the United States and their snake dance17
the snake handlers in the Bible Belt in the southern parts of the
United States

Figure 9. Viking Serpent Ring. The image is from a replica made by the firm David-Anderson;
it was purchased in Oslo. JHC Collection

the Burmese snake worshippers

the groups in India that revere the serpent as the guardian, and
those who endorse the ancient tradition that Vishnu manifests
himself as Shesha, the cosmic snake18
the Dinkas in Africa who revere snake magicians and call snakes
their brothers, washing them with milk and anointing them with
butter19
the Chinese who revere or worship the dragon20
the cobra-focused religious groups in India

This summary could be easily expanded to include others nations and

regions, notably Melanesia,21 Haiti,22 and Tanganyika.23
Serpent symbolism pervades human culture. When C. F. Oldham,
a brigade surgeon in the British army in India, began his study of
serpent worship, he thought he could focus on India and the
challenging culture he had entered. But when he published his The
Sun and the Serpent: A Contribution to the History of Serpent-Worship,
he admitted that “the worship of the Sun and the Serpent” was “once
well-nigh universal.”24
The list mirrors more than ophidian concerns. It discloses the
commonality of the human. Does it reflect the human’s reception of
meaning from another sphere or dimension? Does it help define
human needs? To what extent was Jung tapping into primordial
elements inherited by humans at birth? Why has virtually every culture
and civilization been enamored of the serpent? Why did the ancients
place this creature in accounts of creation (Aborigines, Assyrians,
Babylonians, Israelites, Greeks, and others)? Surely, those who
cavalierly report that the serpent is a symbol of evil or Satan need to
be exposed as uninformed. Yet we have only begun to launch our own
investigations.25

Figure 10. Consort of Shiva, the Milder Parvatī or Uma. JHC Collection

The bronze statue in Fig. 10 depicts the consort of Shiva (who is

often displayed with serpents in his hair [like Medusa]), not the terrible
Kali or Durga but the milder Parvati or Uma. Her tongue and mouth do
not drip with blood; she has a bewitchingly attractive smile. The statue
was purchased in Jerusalem in the late 1990s and is not more than
one hundred years old.
As almost always, the goddess is shown dancing (but here not on
the body of her lord). Note the serpents: one in the hair (with a head at
each extremity), one in a left hand (reminiscent of one of the Minoan
serpent goddesses), and one as an upraised cobra at her feet (with
eyes and mouth depicted). Another serpent curls behind her right foot.
She is the Mother Goddess in Hinduism. As R. C. Zaehner surmised,
Shiva’s consort is “terrifying in her beauty, and her loveliness lies
precisely in her frightfulness.”26 Shiva creates, sustains, and destroys
through his “power,” his consort. Since these serpents appear within
an image of a goddess, it would be unthinkable that the artist and
those who saw the statue were to imagine that they denoted evil. As
Ninian Smart reminds us, the depictions of Shiva and his consort
symbolize the “awe-inspiring and frightening” aspect of a deity; god “in
some sense (so the Hindu tradition claims)” is “beyond good and
evil.”27

THE DOUBLE ENTENDRE OF EXISTENCE AND

OPHIDIAN SYMBOLOGY

Why are these two paintings so important for our present quest? They
each, especially the earlier Die Sinnlichkeit, embody the “both-and” of
the phenomena that permeate our very existence and were perennially
captured in ophidian symbolism. Both paintings are phenomenal and
unforgettable examples of the double entendre, of symbolism that is
possible, or most creatively present, in the language of iconography.
That is, the alluring invitation is wedded with the venomous curse.
Thus, in this sense the language of art has an advantage over the
art of music. Like Kierkegaard’s “either-or,” music can present only one
or the other. It is the “either” or it is the “or.” If one chooses the “either”
and grounds a concerto on G major, then one is limited by such
structure and will scarcely achieve the heights of Mozart’s Konzert für
Flöte, Harfe und Orchestra C-Dur. If one chooses the “or” and grounds
one’s work on C major, then one will be constricted by that key and
eventually become depressed by the inability to achieve what Mozart
did in his Konzert für Flöte und Orchester G-Dur.
While music is bounded by such an “either-or,” art is free to present
to the reader the “both-and.” That is, the good and evil can both be
seen in a painting—and felt simultaneously in a somatic double
entendre.
We in the West trifurcate time; thus we are too dependent on Greek
and Latin grammar, failing to appreciate the subtleties of “fulfilled” or
“unfulfilled” time represented by Semitic languages (as in Hebrew,
Aramaic, Syriac, and Arabic). We know from our own life, and
reflections on it, that the past, present, and future are not hermetically
sealed categories. Existential time transcends such trifurcation. Thus,
art, as in the Celtic figure with three faces,28 can in a blink confront us
with past, present, and future. Michelangelo clearly had the gift to
present to the viewer the Creator who reaches out to the created and,
by the touch of a finger, brings both into a “both-and.”
In the history of symbolism, as in art, the serpent seems to be the
quintessential image for representing life’s double entendre. We will
soon see that this iconographical message extends from the present
back to circa 40,000 BCE; that is, far back into the prehistorical period.
In human existence the serpent is such a multivalent symbol that it can
at once symbolize opposites. It can represent, in its bite, “death,” and
in its molting “new life.” That is symbolically present in the caduceus
(two serpents facing each other), which signifies, sometimes,
apotropaism (an object to avert evil).29 The caduceus is not only
reminiscent of Numbers 21, as we shall see, but also placed by
physicians and pharmacists on our prescriptions and placarded on
buildings for health or health insurance in many places, notably in
Amman and Jerusalem. J. B. Russell incorrectly reported that the
Ouroboros is “a mythological motif of ambivalence common to the
most diverse cultures.”30 The Ouroboros was not an ambivalent
symbol—it showcases the dual symbolic power of the serpent.31

Figure 11. Marble Votive Relief, Dedicated to Zeus Meilichios (Who Conflates with Asclepius).
Found in Piraeus. Fourth century BCE. Athens NAM No. 1434. The image is taken from a
professionally made replica in the JHC Collection.
 The curled serpent found on Zea Island in the Cyclades probably
dates from the fourth century BCE, but its identification has been
disputed.32 The serpent reminds one of the numerous reliefs depicting
Asclepius as a snake—especially the relief found at Piraeus and
dating from the fourth century BCE. B. Johnson too readily announces
that the serpent is Zeus Meilichios.33 Such an identification may seem
beyond question because the Greek above the figure identifies the
relief as δII MEIΛIXIΩI. That would mean, perhaps, Zeus Milik,34 or
“Zeus, King (of the universe).” It may not be wise to declare that the
figure is simply Zeus. Those who made the image and perhaps those
who revered the figure many centuries later may well have imagined
that the figure represented Zeus Asclepius. It is imperative to
remember that by the time of the Fourth Evangelist Asclepius was
equated with Zeus.
Thus, the relief is not to be identified as either Asclepius or Zeus,
as too many authors and scholars have struggled to prove. It is both,
as Hunger has seen,35 and the image was made at a time when
Asclepius was being perceived as Zeus. Both represent
iconographically and mythologically “the king of the universe.”
Another example of the language of symbolism brings forward the
problems of deciding between an “either-or” and even whether such a
distinction might be meaningful. In 1562, Jacopo Tintoretto painted for
the citizens of Venice the recovery of the corpse of St. Mark. He
depicted the Alexandrians as fleeing, except for one Egyptian. At the
Egyptian’s side is depicted a man who is behind an aged Venetian
holding a camel, which will transport the corpse. The man from
Alexandria lifts up his left hand. In it is apparently an asp that is about
to bite the elder statesman in his buttock.36
Is the serpent a good or bad symbol? For the Alexandrian man, the
serpent is the means chosen to achieve an end, so the serpent is a
positive image. Does the serpent depict immortality? And how is the
serpent image related to St. Mark’s corpse?
Perhaps the paradigm of good or bad is not the appropriate one
suggested by this picture. The proper approach may be to think about
the asp in the history of Egypt. It both administers death and transports
one into eternity. Is not St. Mark also then seen as the one who
symbolizes the promise of eternity—of resurrection with Christ?
Ophidian iconography is often a double entendre; that is, there is
an intentional paronomasia linking at least two concepts at the same
time. The artist thereby brings together concepts that are related but
often separated by distinguishing categories with too rigid boundaries.
There is no greater iconographical symbol than the serpent for
presenting the undulating vagaries of human existence. The serpent
can embody both evil and good, not only sickness but also health; and
—most important—the selfsame iconographical representation. The
serpents often depicted beside Anat (a fierce goddess warrior
worshipped in the Middle East as early as 2500 BCE) may signify in
one image her role as both creator and destroyer. As with Ouroboros,
one is all and all is one. In the fifteenth-century manuscripts of Aurora
consurgens we are shown, inter alia, an Ouroboros dragon boiling in a
flask. Above the monster, sitting on its tail, is an eagle above which is
a dove.37 The Ouroboros can be an androgynous symbol, with the tail
as the phallus and the mouth as the womb. Also, with Ouroboros, our
two conceptual philosophical paradigms meet: cosmos and chronos.
Not only these two concepts, but also many others, are present in one
symbol: the serpent.

THE LOST LANGUAGE OF SYMBOLISM AND OUR

DISTANCE FROM NATURE
Pondering the symbols of the ancients, we enter an “inner world” and
begin to grasp, as D. Fontana states in The Secret Language of
Symbols, that “a symbol can represent some deep intuitive wisdom
that eludes direct expression.”38 In writing this book, and while
discussing the meaning of ophidian symbolism with established
experts, I periodically reflected on how far removed we now are from
nature and our earth. The snake once represented the earth and
water. The dragon came to symbolize the four cardinal elements
according to the Greeks: earth, air, fire, and water.
Except in special locations,39 as in the Snake Temple in Malaya
where numerous venomous snakes are fed by monks, or in rare
ceremonies, as in the cult of San Domenico at Cocullo,40 the snake is
now feared and avoided. In seeking to recover the lost language of
symbolism, we might remember that “language is fossil poetry” and
that a “close and intimate relation exists between symbolism and
philology.”41
Most of the images we examine will challenge interpretation. While
many are clearly positive, the exact meaning of the symbol is
shrouded in opaqueness. Fortunately, we now may employ more than
“author-criticism,” which is the search for what the one who made an
image may have intended to denote to his or her viewers. We also
may utilize “audience-criticism,” which opens new possibilities for
seeking to comprehend what those viewing the image might think. As
an example of the difficulty in interpreting ophidian symbolism, I cite
the fourth-century BCE golden headstall of a horse’s bridle that was
found south of St. Petersburg and north of the Black Sea (near
Cimbalka). A serpent goddess is clearly depicted. Her head, arms, and
body are those of a woman, but the feet are two bearded serpents.
One is reminded of the anguipede giants depicted on the Pergamum
altar (now on public display in Berlin)42 and the Etruscan depictions of
sea demons with snake heads for legs.43 The serpents—and the
whole image—clearly denote positive meanings, perhaps royalty,
power, beauty, invincibility, magic, and mystery. The interpretation of
the image should not be limited to its elements (she is holding two
lions); it was placed on the forehead of a horse, probably a majestic
stallion, and it is crafted in gold. One is reminded of the uraeus on the
gold mask of Tutankhamen.
What could the snake symbolize to the observant human in
antiquity? This is a complex question, and we need to be aware of two
factors. First, the ancients were more in tune with the environment
than we are today. They knew themselves as a part of nature. Most
important, unlike most of us, they lived within nature. While we often
are far removed from nature by asphalt, concrete, automobiles, and
so-called music blaring in our ears, the ancients heard the sounds of
animals—birds and donkeys—when they awoke. We see snakes only
in zoos; they saw them in gardens and even in houses.
Far too often I hear confused, clearly unreflective comments.
Those who say, “I hate snakes” are often afraid of them, but also
fascinated by them. Those who claim to detest snakes may stand for a
few minutes before giraffes, camels, lions, and elephants; but they are
mesmerized for hours at a serpentarium in a zoo. The herpetologist at
the Smithsonian, J. A. Peters, estimates that over 3,344,000
specimens of reptiles were imported to the United States in 1968–
1969, and probably about one million were snakes.44 That means
people in the United States are fascinated by and attracted to snakes.
As J. Coborn states in The Atlas of Snakes of the World, the human is
naturally curious about most things and wants “to know a little more
about those things that frighten him or that he does not fully
understand. Because snakes are imagined to come under the
categories of evil, dangerous, slimy, devious, and unknown, people
like to know more about them.”45

Figure 12. Serpent Goddess. Courtesy of the Hermitage. JHC

Before the advent of civilization and the move into villages and then
cities, the ancients were hunters and gatherers, moving in and with the
flow of other animals. We civilized humans, who for approximately the
past five thousand years have lived within cities, have been
consecutively losing our physical abilities—especially to hear and see
—and have forfeited a close relation with nature that is necessary to
appreciate such animals as snakes. The snake shares our earth and
belongs to our natural heritage.46 So, it behooves us to listen to the
ancients who could, and did, observe snakes from the beginnings of
human existence, perhaps over three million years ago.47

THE MYSTERY OF THE SNAKE: THIRTY-TWO

VIRTUALLY UNIQUE FEATURES

At the outset, we should pause and imagine how we should ground

ophidian symbolism in reality. Most promising would be to study the
snake and compare it with other creatures.48 The snake represents
about 2,900 species that belong to the class Reptilia, the order
Squamata (scaly creatures that include lizards), and the suborder
Serpentes or Ophidia; thus, both Latin and Greek have contributed to
the name of its suborder. The size of snakes is not certain, but ranges
from 11.5 centimeters to nearly 10 meters. The weight of a South
American anaconda can exceed 150 kilograms.49
One hears from eighteenth-and nineteenth-century explorers about
how they encountered a snake over 12 meters long. Snakes can grow
to enormous lengths, but careful scholars experience the sometimes
threatening dimensions of nature without excessive exaggeration. For
example, during his expedition in 1799–1800 to South America,
Alexander von Humboldt reported seeing in one glance six 6-meter
alligators, and being “accompanied by occasional 7-meter-long
anacondas swimming alongside.”50
Thirty-two features tend to make the snake distinct or unique,
compared to other creatures the ancients met, such as the lion, bear,
tiger, dog, camel, donkey, and cat. As C. Mattison states in Snake,
“There has always been something of a mystery about snakes. How
can they move so quickly without legs? How can they kill prey with
only a single bite, delivered at the speed of an eye-blink? And how do
they swallow prey whole when it may be several times bigger than
their jaws?”51
First, the snake has neither arms nor legs.52 Although a fossil
snake with legs has been recovered, it is ninety-five million years
old.53 The present creature called a snake is a “limbless tetrapod”
(Greek for “four feet”); it remains on the earth when it moves. It does
not pound the earth as a horse or a human does. This could signify
that the snake is earthy in the sense that it is attuned to and sensitive
to Mother Earth, from which we come and to which we shall all return.
The movement of the snake is also unusual.54 Its locomotion is
varied, but it often leaves a “serpentine” trail in the sands of the desert;
that is, it moves forward by moving left to right and often moving
backward to move forward. There is a quasi-circular rhythm to the
movement. This serpentine movement can easily be seen as symbolic
of time, as it also goes forward but also frequently is repetitious in its
main features; thus, human history is not from war to peace, or from
sickness to health, but a repetition of these in some forward hopeful
progression. The snake thus becomes a symbol of time, especially in
Ouroboros (the presentation of the serpent with tail in its mouth).

Figure 13. Cobra. Marrakech. JHC

Second, the snake has no ears. It has lost the eardrum

(tympanum), outer and middle ears, and also the Eustachian tube.
Only the uninformed believe that a cobra can hear the airborne sounds
of a snake charmer who plays a musical instrument and sways to the
sounds. Yet, very well-informed experts are influenced by such
“authoritative” reports as the one by J. A. MacCulloch in the otherwise
perspicacious entry in the Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics: “As
certain snakes are susceptible to musical, rhythmical sounds or
movements, these are used by snake-charmers to exhibit their power
over them.”55 One who has handled and studied snakes would know
better than to be misled by such a claim. The snake can only “respond
to low-frequency waves,”56 so a cobra is simply following the
movements of the snake charmer’s flute.57 The deafness of a snake
could signify to the imaginative that it is attuned to otherworldly voices,
since it is deaf to earthly noise. It thus can become a symbol for
wisdom.
Third, the snake is voiceless. It can hiss, but it cannot bark like a
dog, sing like a bird, purr like a cat, or whinny like a horse. Thus, the
snake has no vocal way of communicating with humans. That could
imply that it lives in the world of silence in which the word of God alone
can be heard. Even more profound thoughts could be generated by
reflections that communication is impossible where there is no silence,
and that silence is the essence of language.
Fourth, whether possessing a round or slit eye, the snake has no
eyelids; only a scale, the brille, covers the eyes of most snakes. And
some snakes have no vision.58 That could denote the open-eyed
quality of the snake. It can see and is not blinded by blinks and
disrupted vision. The eyes of some snakes—notably the Boomslang of
South Africa and the nocturnal Yellow Blunt-headed Vine Snake of
Costa Rica—are enormous.59 Again, along with its state of being
earless, this creature might appear to some ancients to be a symbol of
special wisdom. Noticeably, most images of a snake in antiquity depict
the eyes in special ways.
Fifth, the snake has not only a limbless body but is elongated. That
could symbolize unity and oneness. It is also symbolic of simplicity,
and that can be imagined as attuned to wisdom and purity (as in: purity
of heart is to will only one thing).
Sixth, the snake moves rapidly and without making a sound. That
attribute could symbolize swiftness and dexterity. It can also connote
elusiveness, which is a characteristic of deities imagined or
experienced. Its elusiveness, as well as fear of it, may have given rise
to the following limerick by Edward Lear:

There was an old man with a flute,

A sarpint ran into his boot;
But he played day and night,
Till the sarpint took flight,
And avoided the man with a flute.60

Seventh, the male snake has two “penises” (the term is

“hemipenes”) that are solely used for copulation, and either may be so
utilized.61 That unique somatic quality could enable the snake to
symbolize not only the erotic but also fertility. The female also should
be included now; she produces so many offspring that an observer
would imagine that the creature was an ideal symbol for fertility.
Eighth, the snake has a split tongue that can exit its mouth through
a hole; that is, the snake does not have to open its mouth to send forth
its tongue.62 The bifid tongue, along with the two penises, can
symbolize duality. It can also denote duplicity and the ability to say two
things at the same time. Thus, the snake can symbolize lying. This
symbolic meaning of the snake has misled some commentators on
Genesis 3.
Ninth, the snake eats in a vicious manner, and all snakes are
carnivores.63 This “degenerate quadruped”64 can ingest an animal that
outweighs it.65 The scene can be revolting to humans when one sees
a reptile swallow whole a beautiful bird, an impala, pet dog, or other
creature.66 All snakes swallow animals whole, and anacondas along
with the aptly named boa constrictor crush the life out of helpless
creatures. In zoos, animal specialists will frequently show the public a
lion eating supper, but never a king cobra swallowing a live fawn
whole.67 This characteristic of the snake could cause fear, wonder,
astonishment, and awe. Folklore associates the pigeon with the
serpent, whose bodies are similar, not because they are monsters, but
because they are wonders.68
Frequently, artists use the serpent to create in their viewers the
feeling of fear and dread. For example, Kubin Otakar (1883–1969), an
Eastern European who was influenced by Impressionism and
Neoclassicism (especially works by van Gogh and Gauguin), painted
in 1908–1909 Der Schlangenbeschwörer, which is now in the
Saarlandmuseum.69 The title of the painting means The Serpent
Exorcist. The dark painting is riveting, depicting an easterner, perhaps
an Indian, playing a flute before which four cobras—four times his size
and twice his height—not only rise far above him but encircle him. He
is also alone and in an abandoned subterranean chamber. He appears
peacefully playing away on his musical instrument, and perhaps with
eyes closed. He seems unperturbed, and even unaware, of the
monsters swaying above him. The painting is impressionistic, but it
inspires subjective reflections regarding fear and anguish. One is
struck with questions about deadly power. The cobras do not threaten,
but their sheer massiveness and immediate presence awaken
primordial fears. Such reflections raise other questions. For example,
why do the depictions of extraterrestrials look like snakes with large
eyes?70
Tenth, massive snakes can sometimes go for months without
eating. This phenomenon could denote that this creature is different
from others: it does not experience the need to eat as do other
animals. Observing a snake that has no need to forage for food could
suggest that it might be divine or at least godlike. It is easy to imagine
the ancients pondering this question: Is not this creature, so unique
and awesome or “awe-full,” blessed by the gods or fed by the gods?
Eleventh, the snake is socially independent. It is usually seen in
groups only at birth or at the culmination of hibernation. It is not
gregarious as are dogs, and does not live in groups like lions. It does
not hunt in packs, like wolves and hyenas; it hunts alone. There are no
reports of seeing examples of cooperative hunting. The snake stays in
a place alone. The only social behavior—with the exception of some
sea snakes that swim in groups—is the grouping of snakes in a den to
hibernate and mate; neither of these activities is what sociologists
classify as social behavior. Both are things that have to be done, and
there is no dialogue or social interchange involved. Unlike the ant,
snakes have no hierarchies, no dominance, and no territoriality. All
these seemingly unique features of the snake could represent its elite
nature. It can thus easily symbolize mystery and wonder.
Twelfth, the snake is cold blooded and needs to obtain its warmth
from its surroundings. That might strengthen its association with the
earth. It lives off Mother Earth and from the Sun, also often seen as a
god. A golden cobra, especially when aroused, becomes like the sun
on earth, blazing forth radiance.71 It is easy to imagine why the ancient
Egyptians chose the cobra in making the uraeus and placing it on the
crowns or heads of the pharaohs.
Thirteenth, the snake is almost invisible when it is resting because
its color is usually similar to its surroundings.72 This attribute of the
snake might add to its elusiveness and invisibility. It can signify the
being that is there, but cannot be perceived. Thus, the snake may
symbolize the mysterious elusiveness of a god.
Fourteenth, the snake can hide in an abundance of places: in trees,
caves, under rocks and fallen trees, in the water, in holes, in cactus
bunches, in tunnels, and in nests. It can also hide itself in the sand.
Thus, the Horn-viper is imperceptible in the beige desert sand.73 This
ability would add to its power to symbolize the hidden one: a god or
the God.
Fifteenth, the snake does not show fear, as do dogs and even
lions. When confronted by danger it does not slink away or lower its
neck, in obedience and submission.74 It either relies on passive
strategies or rises and faces the danger.75 It seems fearless and
strikingly independent. This phenomenon is especially notable in the
python, since the Asian Netpython grows to well over 10 meters.76
Such fearlessness would make the snake more admired and
revered. The king cobra, lightning fast and deadly, may be revered
because it is feared. It can kill an elephant.77
Sixteenth, the snake is amphibious. The ability to move rapidly over
land, into the earth, up a tree, or through water would symbolize the
ability to go virtually everywhere. It is the creature that can go where it
wants. It is no wonder that some ancients added to ophidian
symbolism the feathered or winged snake, which was especially strong
among the Aztecs, who worshipped the Feathered God, Quetzalcoatl,
an incarnation of the “Serpent Sun,” Tonacatocoatl. This feathered
serpent symbolized many good things: healing, learning, and the art of
poetry. The feathered serpent is the lord of healing and the lord of the
Morning Star (the god who brings back the sun to the heavens).78 It
now becomes clear what the artists intended in the depictions on
Greek vases (especially those in the Hermitage) and on sarcophagi
(notably in Basel and Berlin) of chariots drawn by large snakes with
wings, especially in the Medea symbolism (see Chap. 4).79 The snake
can go everywhere: under the earth, over the earth, under and through
the water, and even, with wings, into the heavens.
Seventeenth, the snake sheds its skin (called ecdysis), as many as
four times a year.80 Ecdysis would symbolize the snake’s ability to
rejuvenate itself and to gain a new, better, and larger body and
existence. The ancient would assume that old age and death were
signaled by wrinkles, which would be lost if we could shed our old skin,
like the snake.
It is no wonder so many ancient tales and fables,81 like the story of
Gil-gamesh, relate how the snake alone knows (and has) the power of
rebirth, rejuvenation, reincarnation, and immortality. It is also no
wonder that the Asclepian cult chose the snake as the symbol of
medicine and health since the physician gives new life to one who is
about to die from some disease. The snake curled around a staff in
statues of Asclepius signifies the power to give health and new life.
Similarly, the monuments placed above graves, for example, at
Rhodes, depict large curled serpents; most likely these denoted the
symbol of immortality.82
While many scholars err in presupposing that the snake is to be
dreaded and is a symbol of evil, some experts on snake symbolism
exaggerate the positive symbolism of a serpent, often concluding that
this creature symbolizes only, or primarily, immortality. Note the words
of R. Briffault, who points his reader to “an animal which plays a larger
part in religious and mythological conceptions than any totem or any of
the creatures that have become connected with the gods, namely, the
serpent. The serpent is in all primitive thought, as well as in later
symbolism, the emblem of immortality.”83
The symbolism is worldwide; for example, the Aztecs considered
the rattlesnake the “yellow lord” of all serpents. For them, this serpent
symbolized lightning, cycles of rebirth, and renewal. Images, such as a
gold double-headed serpent in the triangular form holding in its mouth
a frog, are Aztec images. This image dates from 1000 to 1530 and
probably antedates 1520. The conquering Spaniards were horrified by
live rattlesnakes considered sacred by Aztecs and revered in their
temples.84
Often today the serpent appears in unusual places. The image of a
serpent drinking from a bowl, a modern depiction inspired by the
images of Asclepius or Hygieia, is found on the doors of an institute for
the study of ancient Judaism. Why? Is it because of the importance of
ophidian symbolism within Judaism? No; the building was formerly a
hospital.
Eighteenth, the snake can disappear into the earth. Thus, it is
chthonic; that is, it enters into the lower world that is unknown to
humans. The snake can also plunge into the sea, in which some
ancients thought the gates to the netherworld were placed. It is able to
penetrate the source of the life that pours into the grasses, bushes,
and trees through their roots. It knows and even enters the
underworld. It is also symbolic of the agitation that creates new growth
from the earth.

Figure 14. Close-up of Serpent Drinking. Tübingen; Institutum ludaicum. JHC

Nineteenth, the snake can be astonishingly beautiful. It needs no

cosmetics. Nothing in nature can be so bewitchingly lovely as a
gigantic cobra raised fully before you with the hood extended and its
gold glistening scales blinding one from the sharp rays of the sun. The
Green Mamba can also bewitch; if it is large, it can “easily look a
human in the face!”85 The beauty may be considered demonically
attractive. It should also be astonishingly divine. Such attributes of the
snake were reasons the ancient Egyptians chose the snake to
symbolize divinity, beauty, wisdom, royalty, and power; all these
attributes were symbolized by the uraeus.
Too many interpretations of Genesis 3 assume, without exploring
the issue, that the serpent is male. The serpent may have been
depicted as innocent and good and perhaps very attractive so that “the
woman” would want to converse with it.
Though the noun nähäs (nehas; Gen 3:1) in biblical Hebrew is
masculine, the gender of a noun does not necessarily indicate the
gender of the one being depicted. Thus, one cannot use grammar
alone to determine the sex of a creature. Sometimes the “serpent” of
Genesis 3 is imagined to be a female. In Muenster, in the
Westfälisches Landesmuseum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte, is
Johann Brabender’s Sündenfall. He depicts a serpent curled around
the tree of life. The serpent is a she, and has exposed breasts like “the
woman.” She is attractive, innocent, even angelic. Likewise, the
serpent depicted so attractively in the Brancacci Chapel in Florence is
feminine.86
In 1860, the serpent was found so attractive that an elegant set of
glasses with a pitcher was made with serpents prominently depicted.
Between 1899 and 1908, a blue jeweled cigarette case was crafted; on
the cover is a gold serpent with inlaid diamonds. It is 9.4 centimeters in
length and stunning. A sun umbrella of 1899 bears a ruby that is held
by gold serpents in a spiral form. A jeweled pen with a ruby and
diamonds is artistically formed into two serpents.87 This and other
serpent-ornamented jewelry belonged to the czars.

Figure 15. Black African Cobra. Marrakech. JHC

Twentieth, the snake often possesses deadly venom. That makes it

the giver of death. The Boomslang can deliver venom that kills an
adult human rapidly.88 The power of snakes to administer death
rapidly, mysteriously, and unexpectedly would empower the snake as a
symbol of death, life, and power. Thus, envenomation could symbolize
a god that can bring the end even to those who are mighty, young, and
full of health. And such demise appears instantaneously.
The serpent as the one who brings death is well represented in
antiquity. For example, almost all in Western society today know about
the Trojan War, and if they do not remember the details, many are
aware of the fate of Laocoon (G. Laokoon) and his two sons. He was
the priest of Poseidon, and he tried to warn the Trojans that the horse
left by the Greeks was a danger. Two large serpents ascend from the
sea. They strangle his two young sons and then Laocoon. Finally, they
slither under the altar of Athena, probably symbolizing that a Greek
god had sent them to kill Lao-coon and his sons. A marble
aesthetically depicting the two serpents killing Laocoon and his two
sons dates from about 150 BCE and is on public display in the
Vatican.89
The episode is immortalized by memorable portrayals of the
mythical event. The Laocoon created by El Greco is now in the
National Gallery in Washington. El Greco depicted one son as already
dead. The other futilely holds one serpent at a distance. Laocoon
wrestles with a larger serpent that is about to bite him on the right
eye.90
The use of the serpent to denote danger is found virtually
everywhere. It is well known on flags, especially on the Revolutionary
War serpent flag and on an early flag of Texas. Both flags have the
motto, “Don’t tread on me.”
Twenty-first, the snake can show no facial emotion. It cannot smile
or grimace; it can only open its mouth partly or fully. Any putative smile
usually becomes perceived as a grimace. It is a deadly threat or
promise, as the horrific fangs become visible.91 The
expressionlessness of the snake could symbolize its superiority. It is
above emotions. It is from another realm or world. It does not act like
earthly creatures. Sometimes, to accentuate a serpent’s benign or
even inviting quality, the animal is depicted with a smile, and it looks
like a placid duck (see, e.g., the sculpture of Hygieia in the Hermitage).
Twenty-second, the raised snake can resemble an engorged
phallus. That could signify its sexual powers. Despite the fact that
snakes sometimes copulate only after hibernation, this factor along
with its two penises would add to its ability to symbolize the phallus,
eroticism, sexuality, and fertility. It is no wonder that the snake is
deemed an aphrodisiac in some countries, even today. It is obvious
why the Greeks and Romans depicted Priapus as grossly ithyphallic
and some deities with a lingam that was a serpent.92
Twenty-third, the snake is physiologically and definitively unlike
humans. It is thus something that can be seen as inhuman, subhuman,
or superhuman. The snake cannot wink, laugh, or talk, but it can
rapidly deliver a deadly dose of venom. Not only fear but also loathing
often accompany thoughts related to the snake. The symbolisms here
are numerous. They move within the world of folktales, legends,
myths, and into the heart of religion and spirituality.
Twenty-fourth, the snake hibernates. That is, it enters into the earth
for long periods. Where does it go? What is it doing? What is it
learning? All these and many more reflections might spring to the mind
of our primordial—certainly not primitive—ancestors. They did not
simply assume that the snake was sleeping in its hibernaculum, as we
dismiss through categorization of this rare phenomenon (it is not
unique in the animal kingdom, but it is still a remarkable aspect of the
snake’s life). This chthonic dimension of the snake would add to
anguine symbolism the dimension of wisdom. It is clear, then, from this
and previous observations, why the Egyptians, early Jews, and Jesus
used the snake to symbolize wisdom.
Twenty-fifth, the snake appears slimy and cold. It is not warm and
fluffy like a puppy; it is often disturbing to the touch. This feature adds
to its demonic or diabolical features or symbolism. Thus, it is evident
why the Babylonians93 and many early Christians stressed that the
snake was an embodiment of evil.
In Persian (or Iranian) thought there are two gods. Ahura Mazda is
the Wise Lord, the Creator. Angra Mainyu (later called Ahriman) is the
arch-demon, the one who causes destruction and woes. He lives in
darkness and can appear as a youth, lizard, or snake. The hero
Thraetaona can cure some sicknesses, like Asclepius, and struggles
“against the evil done by the serpent.”94 Ahura Mazda creates Mithra
(Mithras), “the ruler of all countries,” who apparently conflates with
Thraetaona and Vima (“the good shepherd” [Vendidad 11.21], and the
great hero within Persian mythology)—perhaps as “Manly Valor”—to
slay “the horse-devouring, poisonous, yellowish-horned Serpent.”95 In
the Tauroctony, found virtually everywhere but not yet in Pompeii,
Herculaneum,96 or Iran, Mithra is depicted slaying the bull. A serpent is
usually shown. Sometimes it is only on the ground, but at other times it
is depicted biting the bull (or perhaps drinking its blood).97 F. Cumont,
the father of the modern study of Mithraism, read the Tauroctony in
terms of Zoroastrian dualism, concluding that the snake is an evil
creature.98 This interpretation does not do justice to the vast and
complex examples of the Tauroctony; sometimes the serpent helps
Mithra.99 Along with R. Merkelbach, I take the serpent to be a positive
symbol in Mithraism.100 The bronze object in Fig. 16 seems to be from
the East or Luristan;101 it may depict the two deities known to the
Persians.102

Figure 16. Left. Bronze Dragons. Early Hellenistic Period. Found near Jerusalem. JHC
Collection.
Figure 17. Right. Medusa. The fence of the Summer Palace in St. Petersburg. JHC

Twenty-sixth, the snake digs in and around a garden, providing

stimulus and growth. It also kills rodents and mice. Hence, it would be
seen as the one who helps provide for the fertility of the soil. It is thus
no wonder that the Greeks and Romans frequently used anguine
symbolism to denote fruitfulness. It is also clear why the Rabbis
advised Jews to have snakes in their gardens.
Twenty-seventh, the snake kills animals that are dangerous to
humans, including mice and other rodents. Thus, the snake would
most likely become perceived as the great guardian. This continues,
for example, in the illustrated poem by Mechtilde Lichnowsky entitled
“Die Dackeln und die Schlange.” Two puppies disobey their mother
and dig an inviting hole in the garden, seeking to find something
exciting there. They unearth a large serpent. The two puppies beg for
mercy from this apparent monster who surely is about to devour them.
The boa wraps herself around the babies. And, to the puppies’ surprise
and delight, the boa brings them home to their mother (Marbacher
Magazin 64 [1993]). Perhaps this attribute of the snake as the
protector or guardian helps to explain the presence of snakes on
ancient jars and the ophidian symbolism of Medusa, as well as the
stories and myths in which the snake is the guardian of treasure, most
notably in the influential Syriac composition Hymn of the Pearl (second
to fourth centuries CE).
In Dante’s masterpiece, in Canto Nono 41, Medusa and others
appear with “asps and vipers have they for hair” (Serpentelli e ceraste
avean per crine).103 Figure 17 is a photograph of Medusa on the iron
fence surrounding the Summer Palace in St. Petersburg.
To dismiss the perception that the serpent symbolizes “the
guardian” only in ancient lore, literature, and iconography, I bring
forward a rather recent poem. The poem is entitled “Die Schlange” and
was composed by Friedrich Georg Jünger (18 9 8–19 77).104 Here is
the German and my translation:

Deine Schlange ist bei dir,

Die stille, die stumme.
Die alle Kammern des
Hauses kennt,
Deine Schlange ist bei dir.

Kehre wieder, was mag,

Die dich hütet im Umlauf.

[Your serpent is by you,

The silent one, the mute one.
Who knows every recess
in the house,
Your serpent is by you.

Come again, what may,

She guards you in life’s circles.]

This theme—”Your serpent is by you”—makes it clear that the serpent

as the one who “guards you in life’s circles” is not an archaic thought
or symbol.
Twenty-eighth, the snake can illustrate grandeur and majesty. No
creature can be so awesomely regal as the upraised cobra with its
hood extended.105 Before such majestic power one feels total awe.
Perhaps it can be categorized partly as divinity and partly as royalty. It
is thus no wonder that Isaiah used this imagery in his throne vision and
that the Egyptians used the uraeus to symbolize their belief that the
pharaohs were divine kings.
Twenty-ninth, the snake does not smell. It cannot be discerned by
smell, like the horse, dog, cat, lion, hyena, and especially the pig. That
quality might add to its symbolic nature of being imperceptible and
elusive. The nabal (Nachash) in Genesis 3 appears suddenly, without
introduction; this “serpent” is not heard, seen, or smelled. No animal
can compete with the snake for appearing unexpectedly and almost
instantaneously. This characteristic of the snake would make it a good
symbol for the appearance of the Spirit or God.
Thirtieth, some snakes look as if they are two-headed; that is, the
head and tail are virtually indistinguishable.106 This phenomenon
would lead to numerous symbolic meanings. The snake may
symbolize two opposites at once. The symbol most appropriate would
be the caduceus.
As a complete circle, this two-headed snake could symbolize
perfection, completeness, and the unity of time and the cosmos. It is
no wonder that bracelets, especially in the Greek and Roman world,
are intricately carved with snake heads at each end. The origin of the
Ouoboros lies in this characteristic of the snake.
Also, some snakes do have two heads.107 This may be caused by
some genetic alteration or defect, but when ancients saw such a snake
they would probably reflect about the symbolism it evoked. Anguine
symbolism can thus denote duplicity, double-mindedness, the oneness
of all duality, and other related concepts and ideas. Symbolizing
sickness and health, the cause of evil or good fortune, the snake is
behind the creation of the caduceus that appears often with Hermes
and is placed on the coins of King Herod, as elsewhere.
Thirty-first, the snake is mysterious and unknown. Even today,
much is still unknown.108 Seeing a one-eyed snake, as a mutated viper
xanthina,109 can be an alarming experience. It evokes the mythology
associated with Cyclops. The so-called combat dance or sex dance of
the snake is often not between a male and female; it is now often
recognized as a struggle between two male snakes that are competing
for a mate. Sometimes her-petologists consider that the dance is a
homosexual attempt of two males attempting to copulate. We are
insufficiently informed about the longevity of snakes and about their
potential length (since, unlike humans, snakes grow each year of their
lives). Little is known today about the physiological changes that occur
during hibernation, especially in the tropics. It is debated whether
snakes swim or simply float and use their terrestrial means of
locomotion to move them forward in the water. Thus, the snake is well
chosen to symbolize the mystery that surrounds and accompanies
human lives. Even as late as 1557, a French poet, probably inspired
by ancient Greek tales, perhaps those well known and associated with
Herodotus, could believe the following words: “Dangereuse est du
serpente la nature, Qu’on voit voler près le Mont Sinai” (“Dangerous is
the serpent by nature, which one observes flying near Mount
Sinai”).110
Finally, perhaps repeating some previous reflections, the snake is
antisocial in the sense that a human cannot communicate with it and
develop a relation with it. One can live together with a snake, but it is
an odd companion whether in a prehistoric cave setting or in a modern
garden. Stories abound of individuals who have pet boas that are
treated royally for years and then swallow a child beloved by the
owner. In Marrakech, I observed that snake handlers were constantly
jumping back to avoid their pet, who was striking out at them. When
they “kissed” the cobra, it was when the cobra had struck and was fully
extended; moreover, it was held up and at a distance by the handler.
There is no way to communicate with or develop something like “love”
or “respect” with a snake. One cannot enjoy a relationship with a
snake as one can with a dog.

SUMMARY

In seeking the physiological basis for the ophidian symbolism we shall

be exploring, we have learned a vast amount about a remarkable
creature. The snake has no arms, no legs, no ears, no eyelids, and
only one functional lung. It cannot speak. It must swallow its food
whole and is consigned to being carnivorous. When it falls asleep and
hibernates, it cannot wake itself. It is totally dependent on its
environment for heat. It cannot migrate, like the elephant, lion, or
wildebeest to find food or water. Humans who have the physical
limitations of a snake are immediately institutionalized;111 but the
snake is fearless, independent, must hunt only by ambush, and has
survived from the time of the dinosaurs. Should we not recognize
something special in this creature that we have been taught to hate
(since such behavior has to be learned)?
In his Patterns in Comparative Religion, M. Eliade concluded that
the “symbolism of the snake is somewhat confusing, but all the
symbols are directed to the same central idea: it is immortal because it
is continually reborn, and therefore it is a moon force, and as such can
bestow fecundity, knowledge (that is, prophecy), and even
immortality.”112 Eliade may be commended for his focus, but he failed
to represent all the various meanings of the symbol of the serpent.113

Figure 18. Snake Stickpin, Vienna 1830. Gold with emerald, rubies, and a pearl. The person
who made this jewelry and the one who wore it took the serpent to symbolize something good,
such as beauty. It is clear that the serpent was admired, and not only in antiquity. This
photograph is from a replica made at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. JHC
Collection

It is now becoming clear that the ancients, the great artists, and
even many people today, think of the snake as a symbol of many
diverse ideas, concepts, and feelings. Humans in their early history,
and perhaps in prehistory especially, did not categorize the snake, as
do most westerners and Americans today, as a symbol of horror and
fear. They eventually observed what we now know: snakes kill only out
of hunger or fear.114 Virtually no snake is interested in eating us, and
we are the reason the snake is afraid.
We have become aware of how physiology lies behind symbology;
as the ancients carefully studied the physical characteristics of snakes,
they developed and evolved ophidian symbolic and mythical language
in art and writing. As K. Salzle stated in his book on animals and
humans, the rational thought of modern humans is in sharp contrast to
the intuition of the early humans.115 They developed not only
symbolism but also poetry; their imaginations were more fertile than
ours.116 With these observations of snakes in mind, we can now
explore what is available from antiquity to help us comprehend the full
meaning of the ophidian symbols so obvious in many places. Surely,
such exploration will help us in the exegesis of major, influential texts,
especially John 3:14.
 Realia and Iconography: The Symbolism of
3 the Serpent in the Ancient Near East (and
the Religion of Israel)

ARCHAEOLOGY AND THE SYMBOLISM OF THE

SERPENT
Having introduced the subject of serpent iconography and symbology
in antiquity, how do we continue? Do we go directly to the ancient
texts? Or do we begin with realia (the objects) and iconography?
In the past, scholars began with the texts, often at an early age, in
the synagogue, church, or grammar school. The result was that they
examined realia and images only later. This textual myopia left its
errors. Images were read in light of the biblical text, perceived literally,
and the ancient myths were usually misunderstood. We have seen, in
detail, how the presupposition that the serpent denotes evil, the
demonic, and even Satan is deaf to the voice of the images. As O.
Keel points out in his book on the right of the pictures to be seen, from
1847 to the present experts have tended to study ancient iconography
in light of what was known about Mithra, Gilgamesh, Enkidu, Tammuz,
and others.1 Now, we must pause, look long and sensitively at a work
of art (or artifact), and ponder such questions as the following: What
did ancient authors imagine? What did they intend to encapsulate in
imagery? How did their culture help them choose the details and the
constellation of images? How did those who used and saw the image
add to the alleged intended meaning?
How do we comprehend the subtleties of the language of
iconography and symbology? One might agree with Coleridge that the
creative imagination is “a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal act
of creation in the infinite I Am.”2 One might want to ponder the point,
yet most readers would agree that, without informed imagination,
images remain mute. To help them speak to us today we need to seek
to dwell in their own time (even if they appear timeless) and approach
with sensitivity the one who fashioned them.
It has been claimed that “we are ultimately responsible [for] and
alone with the anxiety of structuring meaning in a world that has no
inherent meaning.”3 While such reflections have some import and
clarify the need for assigning meaning to a reality that does not come
with labels and values, I tend to disagree with the basic thought. I am
rather convinced that we are born into a world of meaning. We grow
up in a linguistic culture. It comes to us, daily, with images and
symbols that have been interpreted and invested with meaning. We
inherit over three thousand years of icono-graphical explorations into
our universe. It is our task, now, to explore what meaning was “poured
into” what we have inherited or rediscovered.
As E. Panofsky pointed out, we need to apprehend form, subject
matter, meaning, and psychological nuances, and familiarize ourselves
with the times, customs, and culture in which realia were fashioned
and in which they were given (sometimes different) meanings. A
warning by Panofsky bears highlighting: “It is just as impossible for us
to give a correct icono-graphical analysis by indiscriminately applying
our literary knowledge to the motifs, as it is for us to give a correct pre-
iconographical description by indiscriminately applying our practical
experience to the forms.”4 In my own continued study, what I now
perceive to be “indiscriminate” will be removed. With these reflections,
and caveats, let us proceed with a presentation and appreciation of
ancient ophidian images. (Due to the thousands I have collected, the
selection must be focused.)

PREHISTORIC FINDS

The earliest cave art, especially at Lascaux (ante 20,000 BCE),

represents numerous animals.5 Most notable are the images of bison
and early deer, cows, and horses; no animal depicted is clearly a
serpent.6 This may be explained by the fact that the serpent is cold-
blooded and would not have been present in the European Ice Age.
The earliest known image that could be a serpent appears to have
been found in a cave at La Baume-Latrone, France. It has been dated
somewhere between 40,000 and 26,000 BCE. Imagination is required
to obtain a grasp of its form and meaning. The art is a line drawing.7 A
large serpent seems evident; the fangs and forked tongue are
discernible. It appears that the serpent is depicted to evoke thoughts
about a woman. The contrast is striking: the serpent seems
threatening, the woman inviting. Perhaps B. Johnson is correct to
imagine that we are faced with “a visual pun. The pun continues from
the serpent as woman to the serpent as goddess. The play of images
is enlivened by the mammoths that literally and figuratively support the
snake-woman-deity. She is often called Our Lady of the Mammoths.”8
A cave found in 1970 at the southern tip of Italy at Porto Badisco
nel Salento, between Brindisi and Lecce, boasts of paintings that are
dated by carbon analysis (C-14) to about 39,000 BCE. Some specialists
are convinced that the drawings in this cave are the most important
and numerous examples of post-Paleolithic art. There are no clear
depictions of a serpent, but there are lines and drawings that are
serpentine forms (“serpentiformi e zig-zig”).9 I am convinced that
someone, long ago, intended to depict serpents. One end of the
drawing is wider and the other elongated; that could indicate a head
and tail. All images are impressionistic depictions of human life in an
agricultural setting. In all, there appear to be twenty-four serpentine
drawings.10 It is far from clear what these drawings mean; perhaps the
one who made them tried to illustrate that the meaning of life includes
appreciation of serpents.

ARCHAEOLOGICAL DISCOVERIES IN ANCIENT

PALESTINE
Numerous and significant studies have been written on serpent
symbolism in Egypt,11 Babylonia,12 Greece,13 and Rome.14 As of the
present, no survey has been published of serpent symbolism in
ancient Palestine from Dan to Beer-sheba with special focus on
controlled archaeological excavations.15 The purpose of this chapter is
to fill this gap, thus providing objective foundations for discerning what
the ancients might have intended when they made, or used, images of
serpents.
Where has serpent iconography been found in ancient Palestine
from Dan to Beer-sheba, in the centuries before the Byzantine Period
when there was a major cultural change and a shift in the perception of
the serpent? In 1943, J. B. Pritchard, thinking of goddesses depicted
with serpents, listed only four examples of serpent iconography: two
were from Beth Shan, one from Tell Beit Mirsim, and one from
Shechem.16 Today the evidence of serpent iconography in ancient
Palestine is far more extensive, even when we presently focus only on
the obvious, or relatively certain, examples. The following summary is
selective; for a detailed examination see my Serpent Iconography and
the Archaeology of the Land from Dan to Beersheba (in press).
For convenience, here is a synopsis of the ages and periods used
in the following discussion:17

PN18 c. 6000–4500 BCE

Chalcolithic c. 4500–3300 BCE
EB I c. 3300–3000 BCE
EBII-III c. 3000–2250 BCE
EBIV c. 2250–2000 BCE
MBI = EBIV
MBIIA c. 2000–1800 BCE
MBIIB-C c. 1800–1550 BCE
LBI c. 1550–1400 BCE
LBIIA c. 1400–1300 BCE
LBIIB c. 1300–1200 BCE
Iron I c. 1200–925 BCE
Iron II 925–586 BCE
Persian 539–332 BCE
Hellenistic 332–63 BCE
Early Roman 63 BCE-135 CE[Herodian c. 40 BCE-70 CE]
Late Roman 135–325 CE
Byzantine 325–640 CE

Munhata

The earliest evidence of serpent iconography has been found at

Munhata and antedates 4000 BCE. Munhata is situated about 13
kilometers south of the Sea of Galilee (Kinneret Yam) in the Jordan
Rift Valley. It is about equidistant between Beth Shan in the south and
the Sea of Galilee in the north. Six occupation levels have been
discerned, beginning with Levels 6 to 3B that date from the Pre-Pottery
Neolithic B culture (i.e., c. 8300–5500 BCE, a culture also found in
Jericho).19 Near the end of the fourth millennium BCE, Munhata was
deserted. It lay abandoned until recent times.
Level 2A, the Wadi Rabbah Stage, probably dates to Pottery-
Neolithic A or 4800–4000 BCE and reflects the Halafian culture of Syria.
Excavators found two serpent objects in this level.20 Each is a plastic
decoration; that is, before firing, an image of a serpent in clay strips
was fastened to the outer surface of a vessel. One curled serpent was
attached to the side of a hole-mouth pithos. Its body is curled around,
with the tail on top of the body.21 The serpent’s head reaches over the
top of the rim of the pithos, and the mouth seems to be open.22 I do
not think the serpent is seeking water—it is more likely placed on the
vessel to bless or guard the contents. That interpretation fits well with
what we found about the widespread meaning of the serpent, including
its meaning in this area of the world.

Ein Samiya

A cemetery covering about 3 kilometers is located near Ramallah on

the border of the Samaritan mountain range and the Jordan Rift Valley.
It is between Bethel and Shiloh and west of Wadi ed-Daliyeh. The
graves date to the period from the Early Bronze Age to the Byzantine
Period.

Figure 19. Ein Samiya Silver Cup. 2250–2000 BCE. Courtesy of the Israel Museum.

A sheet-silver cup was found in an Early Bronze Age tomb at Ein

Samiya. It shows two fat serpents with large eyes, nostrils, and closed
mouths.23 One serpent with odd markings around its mouth and with
circular markings on its body looks left and rises up in an undulating
form to a strange plant held in the left hand of a Janus-headed figure
with bull’s hindquarters. The other serpent, with diagonal markings,
looks right and crouches with its tail curled beneath it; the serpent is
below two human figures who hold a crescent-shaped object within
which is a rosette with a human face in the center. The iconography is
unique, but individual features link it with Mesopotamia.24
Y. Yadin rightly saw a connection between the mythological scene
in this cup and the Enuma Elish (“The Creation Epic”). The text
mentions monstrous serpents or dragons whose bodies are filled with
venom and that rear up. Yadin suggested that the cup’s left scene
shows a deity neutralizing “the poison of the monsters with plants
grasped in his outstretched hands.”25 The right scene could be one of
triumph. The serpents seem to have been chosen to evoke fear and
wonder before an awesome god. Most likely the cup was made in
Mesopotamia or elsewhere and imported into Canaan.
Ancient Palestinian culture was influenced by Babylonian art. The
Su-merians and the Akkadians revered, even worshipped, snake gods.
Sometimes the god is represented with anguipedes (serpent legs and
feet) and sometimes as a dragon-serpent.26 The mythical animal may
be a beast with seven serpent heads.27 As E. Douglas Van Buren
stated, “from prehistoric days until the Seleucid era there is no
evidence to show that the dragon was inimical to the gods or
malevolent towards mankind. It inspired awe because it possessed
supernatural qualities.” Indeed, in Sumer and Akkad, the symbol of the
serpent or dragon-serpent was “always regarded as a talisman which
averted drought and consequent famine.” Serpent symbolism was “a
happy omen of abundance and blessing.”28

Jericho

Jericho, in the Jordan Valley east of Jerusalem, may be the oldest

continuing city in the world. One of the monumental structures there is
a Pre-Pottery Neolithic tower that seems to antedate 8000 BCE.
Debates continue on the intended use of this structure. The city (Tel
es-Sultan) is about 10 kilometers north of the Dead Sea and 230
meters below sea level, on the Great African Rift Valley. Jericho was a
major city on the caravan route from the East to the West, and famous
primarily because of the biblical account of the entrance into the
“Promised Land” by the Hebrews under the leadership of Joshua (Josh
2–6). Early historians, in particular Strabo, Pliny, and Josephus,
emphasized Jericho’s strategic location, both economically and
militarily.
Although the archaeological evidence at Jericho stretches back
before the ninth millennium BCE, serpents do not appear as symbols
until long after the development of culture and civilization.29 In an
MBIIB stratum of Jericho dated to circa 1700 BCE, in a chamber that
apparently stored temple objects of unusual quality, were found
fragments of a ceramic vessel bearing a serpent with its mouth open.30
It was recovered from seventy-three pieces and laboriously put back
together. It is imperative to observe that this vessel with ophidian
symbolism belonged with a group of vessels reserved for sacred use.
Hence, J. Garstang, the excavator, opined that the “snake was in fact
a terrestrial emblem of the Mother-goddess, symbolizing Life within the
Earth.”31
In a Middle Bronze Age tomb at Jericho was found a ceramic
vessel with two serpents. Here is K. M. Kenyon’s description of the
pottery vessel in zoomorphic form:

The filling aperture is a cup on the bird’s back, up which climbs a snake to drink. The pouring
aperture is the bird’s mouth. Another snake, partially broken away, is curled round the bird’s
neck and along the top of the head. Feathers of wings and tail are indicated by incisions.
Found in scattered sherds, but nearly complete.32

Each serpent has numerous dots to signify skin, and the eyes are
prominently featured. The serpent on the neck, looking down into the
vessel, has three curves. The object should not be designated “Bird
Vase,” but “Elegant Bird Vase with Two Serpents.”
The serpents are clearly positive symbols and nonthreatening.
Their mouths appear to be directed to the opening from which water
would pour out. The ophidian iconography probably symbolizes the
protection of the contents that embody health and life. Water and milk
that would probably have been contained in such vessels can provide
not only health but also sickness, and before the invention of
refrigeration the ancients could only appeal to serpents for protection.

Figure 20. Large Shard with Serpent, with Dots to Designate Skin. MB. From Jericho.
Courtesy of the Weingreen Museum of Biblical Antiquities, Trinity College, Dublin, Accession
No. WM 104.

Ashkelon
Ashkelon is on the Mediterranean coast in the south of ancient
Palestine. The beginnings of Ashkelon can be dated to about 2000
BCE; thus, the name Ashkelon is a pre-Philistine name and is
Canaanite or Amorite. The tell is massive; it covers a little over 100
hectares. Ekron and Dan extend only to about 20 hectares each.33 At
Ashkelon archaeologists found a red-clay pottery Canaanite storage
jar with two serpents on its shoulder, one on each side and near the
handles. The jar was discovered in Grid 50, Square 48, Feature (=
Locus) 487, and comes from a tomb. It dates from MBIIB or about
1800 BCE. The jar was found in 1996 and is unpublished until now.34
Each serpent is incised with prominent eyes. Most unusual in early art,
but found in the Hellenistic depictions of serpents,35 are the three short
spreading lines coming out of the mouth of the serpent. These lines
may indicate the forked (bifid) tongue that informs the serpent about its
surroundings and, perhaps, also symbolizes the powerful venom.36
They are strikingly similar to the ophidian image found at Arad that
dates from the Early Bronze Age.
One serpent is carefully incised and has eight curves, probably to
indicate it is in motion. A horizontal line is deeply etched in front of its
head. The other serpent is less sophisticated, and has no clear
undulations and no horizontal strokes before the mouth. Unique, as far
as I can detect, are the incisions to denote serpents and the discovery
of them on a Canaanite storage jar. These are locally produced
ophidian images, since there is little or no Egyptian pottery at
Ashkelon, and typological analysis indicates that the objects were
most likely made in or near this site. The ophidian iconography
probably symbolized the protector of the contents of the jar, usually
wine or oil.

Shechem (Tell Balatah)

Shechem lies on the main road that leads northward from Jerusalem.
It is situated at the eastern end of a pass that continues between two
famous mountains, Ebal to the north and Gerizim to the south.
Shechem is also located between Jacob’s Well and New Testament
Sychar, just as described in the fourth century by Eusebius (in his
Onomasticon) and by the Bordeaux Pilgrim and in the sixth century on
the Madaba map.
In 1927, E. Sellin and his team found the remains of a clay vessel
at Shechem. It has a serpent attached to it. Dark circles are painted on
its body, which is mostly straight.37 The vessel with a serpent dates
from the Middle Bronze Age and was found in the temple. That
provenance clearly indicates positive meanings for the serpent and
reveals that there was probably a serpent cult there.
In 1934, H. Steckeweh found a small limestone plaque at Shechem
with iconography that seems to denote a serpent. The large serpent
moves from the earth to the pudenda of a goddess. F. M. Th. Bohl
judged it to be from the Middle Bronze Age.38 Both Albright and J. B.
Pritchard concurred with this approximate date.39 Albright opined that
the plaque represented the serpent goddess.40
The evidence of ophidian iconography at Shechem has increased
with more recent research.41 Two MBIIB pottery sherds with serpent
motifs were found in Strata 18s and 20.42 The shards were unearthed
during the excavations from 1956 to 1973. It is a pity that the evidence
of serpent imagery at Shechem is now in such a fragmented state that
little may be discerned about the meaning of serpent symbolism there.

Megiddo

Clearly one of the most impressive mounds representing the remains

of ancient cities is Megiddo, which is situated on the via maris (the way
of the sea), as it continues northward from the Sharon Plain into the
Jezreel Valley. It is about thirty-two kilometers south of Haifa. The
strata at Megiddo run from Chalcolithic (somewhat before 3300 BCE) to
Iron II (600–350), according to the field director, Gordon Loud, in
1948.43
Two bronze serpents were found at Megiddo. One was discovered
in Stratum X, which dates to 1650–1550 BCE.44 It is elongated with an
upraised head and is 18 centimeters long. The serpent has no details.
The other bronze serpent is also elongated and straighter; it is 10
centimeters long. It has a rounded but triangular head and no
markings. It was found in a later stratum (LBIIB or Iron I).
Archaeologists noted serpent symbolism at Megiddo on a pottery
bowl that was found in Stratum XIIIA or XII that dates to the eighteenth
century BCE.45 The well-crafted bowl is associated with the cult and
has an image of four bull heads; these are separated by four serpents.
The serpents are elongated with upraised heads, and two dots in
vertical rows are neatly arranged, perhaps to signify the skin. The line
of dots is visible in Plate 26. The bulls, but not the serpents, are given
eyes. The zoomorphic animals are applied pottery. Since the serpents
are associated with the bulls and the latter were symbols of divinity,
power, and sexuality in antiquity, then the serpents most likely also
were assigned some, or all, of these features;46 snakes clearly
represent these concepts in other contexts.
In a Middle Bronze or Late Bronze Age tomb, numbered 1100C,47
at Megiddo excavators found a vase with a long serpent.48 The
serpent curls artistically around the base of the long spout and lies on
the upper section of the body of the bowl. The serpent is not near the
rim, as in many other examples. In another tomb at Megiddo, dated to
MBII, were found three jugs bearing serpent motifs on the handles.49
In each case the serpent is more stylized than detailed; no dots, eyes,
or tongue are depicted, and the serpent’s tail recedes into the jug. One
handle is connected to the rim, as is usual, and the serpent does not
reach to the rim (P 3060). Two other features are distinguished. The
handle is attached only to the bowl and the neck is more truncated. No
heads are shown; the slanting “head” of one serpent clearly ends on
the handle (P 3083); the other’s “head” reaches over from the handle
to the rim and rests on the outside of the rim (P 3061).50
Other ophidian iconography seems to be among the archaeological
discoveries, but went undetected. Perhaps three bronze bracelets are
ophidian-shaped (Plate 87:7, 8, 9).51 One seems to have a well-
defined serpent head and tail (Plate 87:9 [M 937]).52 It was found in
Locus 310 of Stratum IV or circa 1000 to 800 BCE, according to the
excavators of 1925–1934.53 Also, in Strata I-IV eight scarabs with a
uraeus or uraei were found at Megiddo.54 Scarabs with images of
serpents, with one or more uraei, are found all over ancient
Palestine.55 Scarabs and amulets are not mentioned in this survey,
unless they are in stratified layers, since they usually are Egyptian and
not local.56
Some possibly undetected ophidian objects may have been
recovered in the tombs. A bracelet has two animal heads facing one
another; these are oxidized but look like triangularly pointed serpent
heads.57 A ring looks as if it might be a base with a raised serpent on
it, but it also is too oxidized for us to be certain.58

Gezer
Rising prominently above the Coastal Plain is a high hill or tell that
commands virtually a 360-degree sweep of the area from Ashdod in
the southwest to nearly Mount Carmel in the northwest and the Judean
hills to the east. It is about 11 kilometers southeast of Ramleh. Gezer
is thus a strategic lookout and ideally suited to guard the main route
that leads up to and from Jerusalem and Jericho (and other more
eastern parts of the world) from the via maris that connected Egypt
and Babylon, passing below Megiddo. The site is also blessed by the
fertility of the region, along with abundant springs near its base.
A small bronze serpent, perhaps a cobra, was found at Gezer in
the high place. The body is wavy, but without any detail, and the head
is raised, but no eyes are marked. It is about 18 centimeters long.59
The object is dated to the Late Bronze Age.60 R. A. S. Macalister
suggested that, despite the “wild words that have been written about
serpent worship,” there was certainly some worship of the serpent in
the Jerusalem Temple, as 2 Kings 18:4 demonstrates. Macalister
opined that the “bronze serpent from Gezer may well be a votive
model of some such image.”61 These informed reflections should be
kept in mind when we study the biblical texts.
A second ophidian object was found at Gezer in Cave 15 IV. It is a
curved ornament in the form of a serpent. The head is especially
prominent and triangular, but no eyes or skin are indicated. The cave
and its contents date to the “Second Semitic Period” that is from the
thirteenth to the eighteenth Egyptian Dynasty, or sometime before
1400 BCE.62 Macalister suggested that this object “may have been a
sympathetic prophylactic against the bite of these creatures.”63
At Gezer in 1969–1971, archaeologists, under the direction of W.
G. Dever, discovered another impressive example of serpent
iconography. It is a copper/bronze serpent found in LBII Stratum 9,
which is a mixed fill also containing material from MBIIC and
MBIIC/LBI.64 It is a crude object, showing little detail; there are no eyes
indicated and no dots. It may have been intended as a cobra.65 The
nose is excessively elongated; perhaps the artist wanted the observer
(or worshipper) to think about the cobra’s deadly tongue. As with the
uraeus, the serpent has an upraised head. The body has one main
semicircular curve.66 If this stratum was looted in antiquity, it is
possible that more impressive serpent objects had once been present.
Six of the Cypriot Base Ring I jugs found at Gezer in Field I Caves
may contain an artist’s attempt at a stylized serpent.67 Each of the jars,
in various stages of preservation, has an image that is formed from the
bottom left and continues in a clockwise fashion until it circles back
and ends well beyond the right side of the circle created. No
decoration is added to the image to help the observer discern that it is
a serpent. Yet the “raised molding” is serpentine and may be an
idealized ophidian image. These bibil jugs date from the Late Bronze
Period and are imported probably from Cyprus.68
Archaeologists have found additional examples of ophidian
symbolism at Gezer, and these date from the Iron Age. One, a Qadesh
type,69 depicts erect serpents on a clay plaque that can be dated to
1000–550 BCE. They seem to be celebrating the fertility goddess
Asherah. Upraised serpents with faces turned toward the goddess are
depicted on each side of Asherah.70 A second clay plaque that may
represent serpents was found at Gezer. It shows a goddess with
serpentine artwork ascending from her shoulders and over her head.71
These serpentine features may denote serpents since similar
iconography was found at Hazor. It is difficult to date the second
ophidian object because it was found in nonstratified waste. Since
some serpents rise up before Asherah, it is apparent that they may
well denote the phallus, a symbol of fertility, sex, and regeneration.

Hazor (Tel el-Qedah)

Hazor is located north of the Sea of Galilee in Upper Galilee and in the
Huleh Valley. It was clearly not only one of the major Canaanite cities
but also a prominent trade center in the Fertile Crescent. Hazor is
massive. The mound proper occupies 12 hectares, while the lower
settled areas extend over 70 hectares. The upper city of Hazor was
settled in the Early Bronze Age. The lower city was occupied
sometime near the beginning of the second millennium BCE.72
Two small incised bronze serpents were found at Hazor in the “holy
of holies” in the temple of Area H (Locus 2113), and in Strata 2 and
1A,73 which are dated to LBIIA and B, or 1400–1200 BCE.74 One, 7
centimeters long, is rather straight (339:5 [H179]); it may have been a
pendant for wearing around the neck since it has a hole in it. Five
straight lines are found on the head and four angular ones on the
body. The other, 11.2 centimeters long (339:6 [H1350]), has eyes
indicated and is curved in a serpentine fashion, with perhaps four
curves, probably to suggest motion.75
 A third object that appears to be a bronze serpent was found at
Hazor. It has six curves and the head is upraised.76 It has virtually no
decorations that would prove it to be a serpent—that is, it has no
tongue, eyes, or dots. The object was found in Area A in Phase 9A or
LBI. The object—probably a serpent—was thus found in the temple
area of the upper city. This temple may have been where the upper
echelon of Hazor worshipped; a monumental building (L. 389) was
discovered near the Area A Temple.
A fourth example of ophidian iconography was found on a pottery
sherd (A6119); it is dated to MBII.77 The serpent is relatively small and
has dots to indicate skin. Its body stretches semihorizontally, and its
head is beside a handle on the top of the rim, as if the serpent were
blessing or guarding the contents. It was also found in Area A.

Figure 21. Cult Standard. Hazor. Fourteenth to thirteenth century BCE. Courtesy of the Israel
Museum.

A fifth object that is probably a serpent appears to be indicated on

the handle of a clay jug (F1454/6); it was found in Area F, Locus 8187,
which dates from MBII.78
A sixth ophidian object was found on the remains of a small bowl
(H1004/1). An example of ophidian iconography was applied to the
body of a “sherd of a very unusual vessel.”79 The object is a clay-
sculptured serpent. The serpent has two large dots where the eyes
would be located. A small slit indicates its mouth.80 The serpent
appears to be looking over the lip of a bowl, perhaps guarding the
contents within. It was found in Area H.
A seventh example of ophidian iconography was discovered at
Hazor. It proves what has probably already entered the mind of the
reader: Hazor was the center of a Canaanite serpent cult. This serpent
object is the most important found at Hazor. Yadin’s team found a
silver-plated bronze cult stand in Locus 6211. Silver-plated bronze was
often the most elegant way to fashion a mirror, but this is a cult stand,
and it dates from the Late Bronze Age II, or the fourteenth and
thirteenth centuries BCA.81
The tang was not plated with silver because it was most likely
intended to be hidden by a pole on which the cult stand would be
erected. Only a minuscule part of the silver plate can be seen by the
naked eye. The object has been on public display in the Israel
Museum (Room 307, Case 4, Item 3).
Two serpents in relief are shown rising on each side of, and even
above, a woman; she is incised in the center of the sliver-plated
bronze object. The serpents have no decorations to indicate skin,
eyes, or tongues. The serpent on the left has four curves, and the one
on the right has two; these most likely symbolize the serpent’s
dynamic quality. The woman’s hair falls downward beside each cheek,
ending in curls. A crescent is indicated in relief above the woman;
perhaps some connection with the moon is indicated.82 She is most
likely a goddess. It is possible, as Yadin imagined, that she is holding
the serpents and wearing a necklace (this interpretation is reinforced
by minute examination of other iconography, especially that on the
scarabs and seals).83
Since the object is constructed of expensive material, though
poorly crafted, and since it is a cult standard and found among other
cult objects, I have no doubt that the woman is a serpent goddess and
like the Qudshu models. The object is similar to the images of a
woman holding serpents in both hands;84 this motif may have been
intended, but not actually achieved or made less clear, by the silver
plating. In the official report of the excavation we read: “This standard
of the snake goddess is so far unique among archaeological
discoveries. It may be conjectured that it was used in cult processions
such as we see on the monuments of Egypt and Mesopotamia.”85
There can be no doubt that when the people with Joshua entered
Palestine, goddesses were symbolized as serpents. It is now certain
that there were numerous serpent cults in Palestine before Joshua’s
time.
The images depicted on the cult stand are clearly serpents.86 I can
see no reason why these serpents, or any ophidian iconography found
at Hazor, should be associated with an iconography of bulls. Yet Yadin
speculated that the temple in Area H was a Canaanite one dedicated
to the storm god Baal, Hadad.87
An eighth and a ninth example of ophidian iconography were found
at Hazor. Archaeologists discovered two examples of what they judge
to be a “snake house.” Similar objects were found at Ugarit and Dan.
One “house-shaped vessel,” found in 1957, was well preserved.88 The
vessel is spherical, but its small opening is rectangular. It most likely
had a door that closed it, since a socket for one appears on the left
side. Perhaps the vessel needed to be closed, so as to hinder
poisonous snakes from wandering. It is conceivable that the door
would have been made of some fabric or basket-weaved plant so that
the serpent could breathe. Above the vessel rises a vertical fagade,
and the front has a horizontal lip below the opening. The design seems
cultic and is reminiscent of a temple. A similar vessel at Ugarit (Ras
Shamra), dating from 1500 to 1400 BCE, has an elegant door that is
also rectangular, but extended vertically and not horizontally as are
those at Hazor and Dan.89
Perhaps the serpent houses were designed for transporting the
serpent to a ceremony since we have iconographical evidence that a
serpent cult flourished at Ugarit and Hazor.90 The two serpent houses
found at Ugarit are the most elegantly crafted I have studied.
The Hazor snake house was found in the temple of Area H (Locus
2113).91 This is the area in which the bronze serpents were
discovered; hence, there is reason to posit that what Yadin called the
“house-shaped vessel” should be identified as a “snake house.”
Perhaps sacred snakes or serpents were kept in the tiny house that
appears too small for a cat.
Another “unique vessel” was found in LBII and in Area C (Locus
6211). The vessel has “a circular aperture in its side” and, although the
upper section is lost, the vessel was most likely originally closed.92 In it
was found the silver-plated bronze cult standard described earlier (and
shown in Fig. 21). This connection suggests that the strange vessel is
a snake house, and should be so understood in the light of the
examples found at Ugarit and elsewhere.
It is clear that the ophidian iconography found at Hazor has deep
symbolic meanings. For example, the pendant serpent, like the later
so-called gnostic amulets, might serve to symbolize the one who can
protect the bearer from misfortune, especially through sympathetic
magic, from a deadly snakebite. Like most amulets, it was most likely
prophylactic and apotropaic—that is, used to ward off evil.

Timna’ (Tel Matash)

Timna’ is a valley about 30 kilometers north of the Gulf of Aqabah.

Copper smelting installations were active at Timna’ from the
Chalcolithic Period to the Byzantine Period.
A Midianite votive offering was found in the Hathor Temple at
Timna’.93 It is a serpent from the thirteenth century BCE.94 The serpent
is primarily copper, but its head is gilded and the eyes highlighted. The
gold that remains around the face and the way it ends behind the eyes
suggest that the whole serpent originally was covered with gold. Its
skin is artistically represented. The head is pointed and its eyes clearly
marked with recessed circles in the gilded copper. It has seven well-
defined undulations, and the tail curves. It is less than 13 centimeters
long. Since it was found in the Egyptian Temple to Hathor, it probably
symbolized divinity and protection. Also, since Hathor is the goddess
of mining, it most likely also signified success and prosperity in
mining.95
Also found at Timnacwas another ophidian object. It is a snake
crawling along the rim of a votive altar.96 It should be evident that
these examples of snake iconography denoted something positive; the
gilded serpent was found in a temple and should be interpreted in
terms of the goddess of the temple, Hathor. In Canaanite religion this
goddess was associated with vegetation;97 in Egypt she was a cow
and the serpent who ruled the world. The Timnacgilded serpent
probably denotes Hathor’s divinity. As is well known, the serpent was a
god and the assistant of gods in ancient Egypt. One papyrus of about
990 BCE depicted four cobra gods and a gigantic serpent guiding the
boat of the sun god.98
Figure 22. Timna’. Gilded Serpent. 1550–1200 BCE. Courtesy of the Israel Museum.

Beth Shan (Beth-shan, Beth Shean, Beisan)

The site in which the most abundant and impressive ophidian

iconography has been discovered in Palestine is Beth Shan, a
prominent tell (Tel el-Hosn) in the valley of the Harod, a stream that
flows into the Jordan River.99 The site was apparently deserted from
700 BCE until the time of Alexander the Great; then it was renamed
Scythopolis. On the tell, archaeologists have found abundant evidence
of Egyptian influence, which is understandable since an Egyptian
garrison was stationed there in the period from Seti I to Rameses III, or
from circa 1318 to circa 1166/67 BCE.
Quite confusing are the dates given to the numerous strata of the
tell, and these are often debated.100 I have thus decided to treat them
together, with asides about the dates assigned to them by Alan Rowe,
the field director of the excavations in the 1920s and the author of the
two volumes that reported and assessed the discoveries. Serpent
iconography is dated long after the period of Hyksos control, or
beginning in MBIIB and C; this information may strengthen the thesis
that the Hyksos brought ophidian symbolism into Palestine if one adds
to it the increase of such symbolism under Egyptian domination.
Here is an inventory of ophidian iconography excavated at Beth
Shan.101
 1. A fragmented cylindrical cult stand with four serpents (14:1
[1021A]). There appear to be four apertures: one rectangular-like
aperture on opposite sides.102 The top is crowned. Large serpents with
dots indicating the skin are depicted moving upward and into the
apertures (photo on 58A:1–2, drawing on 58A:3).103 Doves clearly sit
above each handle. Rowe assigned this stand to the time of Rameses
III (1183–1152 BCE). It was found in the southern temple.
2. A fragment of a second cylindrical cult object with a serpent and
the top of an oval aperture (16:4 [1021]). Rowe dated it to the southern
temple of Rameses III.
3. A third fragmented cylindrical cult stand showing serpents with
dots and along with doves (14: 3, 4, 5 [1027, 1029]).104 Around the
cylinder, with a sloping top, portions of doves are depicted in eight
(perhaps)105 triangular-shaped apertures. Originally a dove was in
each hole. Four serpents curled around the doves, but did not enter
the openings (photo on 57A:3; drawing on 57A:4).106 Doves most likely
also originally sat on each handle.
What did this serpent iconography symbolize? The scene is
peaceful and the serpents are not heading for the doves. It seems
unlikely that the ancients imagined the serpents were seeking the
doves for food. Perhaps the doves and the serpents represented the
beginning of spring, with the doves symbolizing heaven and the
serpents the earth and beneath it. Rowe dated the serpent cult stand
to Rameses III. It was found in the southern temple.
4. A fourth fragmented cylindrical cult stand with serpents and
doves. It has two triangular openings (base below) with a dove in each
and two serpents with heads facing the doves (16:3 [1080]). Rowe
dated it to Rameses III. Like items one, two, and three, it was also
found in the southern temple.
5. A fifth very fragmented cylindrical cult stand, with doves and
serpents (16:1 [1024]).107 Each of the two oval apertures probably
originally held a dove. A serpent faced each dove. The cult stand was
found under the plaster floor of the northern temple from the time of
Rameses III.
6. A fragmented base of a sixth cylindrical cult stand with serpents
at the bottom, not to be confused with the previous five items. The cult
stand shows serpents with tiny dots and semirectangular windows or
apertures. Thus, the archaeologists found at least six cylindrical
serpent cult stands at Beth Shan.
Rowe reported that seven cylindrical cult stands with serpents were
found at Beth Shan.108 Only the six previously reported are clear in the
plates.109 None of these cylindrical cult stands is as ornate as the one
found at Byblos that has bulls below the rim and serpents near square
windows.110
7. A cult object; a serpent curled up in a U-shape (19:1). Rowe
reported that this artifact is the only cult object that was found in the
“Pre-Amenophis III Level.”111 By analogy with passages in the Pyramid
Texts and ophidian symbolism found in Egypt, it is likely that this object
was set up at the entrance to a temple as a guardian.112
8. Another serpent with dots; it is lying in a serpentine line (19:8).
9. A pottery serpent in a serpentine line (20:2).
10. A pottery cult object; serpent coiled back on itself, head broken
off. Rowe dated it to Amenophis III or 1386–1349 BCE(20:3; see the
photo on 44A:5).113
11. A pottery cult object; an undulating serpent on a base with head
missing, dated by Rowe to Seti I or 1313–1292 BCE(21:15; see the
photo on 42A:5).
12. Small pieces of ivory that are perhaps the remains of serpents
(30:21–31).
13. Tiny bronze pieces that are probably the remains of serpents
(31:25 especially).
14. A faience Egyptian-like pendant that is an upraised serpent or
uraeus with a human face like a sphinx (33:7).114
15., 16., 17. Three faience pendants that look like Egyptian cobras
(34:42, 61, 62).115
18. A serpent cult object with head broken off, which Rowe dated
before Amenophis III or prior to 1447 BCE(41A:2, 21:5).
19. A pottery cult object, an upraised serpent, like a cobra,116 with
female breasts indicated by two circular deposits of clay. The head is
lost. Rowe dated it also before 1447 (42A:2).117
20., 21. Two clay cult objects, serpents most likely. One is with a
cup; perhaps the cup was intended to catch lacteal fluid from the two
breasts, as Rowe thought, both with a vertical slip of clay (to denote
cleavage?; 42A:5).118 Each seems to be an upraised serpent, perhaps
a cobra like the uraeus, and each appears related to the cult at Beth
Shan that reveals strong Egyptian influence. These ophidian symbols,
and the preceding one, probably denoted a goddess or symbolized
one of her attributes.
22. A pottery cult object; a serpent—probably a cobra—depicted
with female breasts and a receptacle beneath them, most likely to
capture lacteal fluid. Rowe dated it to the time of Amenophis III or
1447–1412 BCE(45A:4; cf. 42A:5).119 Found with Ashtoreth figurine,
whose hands cup naked female breasts (45A:5). This cult serpent also
represented a goddess or her attributes.
23. Numerous fragments of a rectangularly shaped cult shrine
house with a serpent on the front moving up to rest beneath a man’s
feet and near the feet of a dove. Above the gracefully curved serpent
are two men, reaching over to touch the head of the other.120 A nude
woman sits above them with her legs separated to show her
exaggerated mons veneris. On the right is a walking lion. Most of the
appliqued clay for the serpent has broken off. Rowe dated this shrine
to Rameses (56A:1–3, 17:1–3, 57A:1–2; cf. 17:2, 17A:1–2). It is on
display in the Israel Museum. This rectangular serpent cult stand is not
be confused with the six cylindrical ones.
24–27+. In 1973, E. D. Oren published for the first time the report
on the 1920 to 1931 excavations of the northern cemetery of Beth
Shan. In this northern cemetery were found the following ophidian
objects: (a) in Tomb 7, from EBIV, four uraei carnelian pendants,121 (b)
in Tomb 27, contents from the Late Bronze Age, a white steatite
scarab with two uraei whose bodies contain a crisscross design, facing
in opposite directions, with a cartouche with Aa-kheperw-Ra, the
prenomen of Amenophis II,122 (c) and in Tomb 219, EBIV, one faience
scarab with a single uraeus facing a reed sign.123 These are not to be
confused with numbers 14–17 that are faience pendants with ophidian
imagery.
One notable feature seems impressive. Most of the serpent objects
have their heads broken off. Is this intentional? The broken heads do
seem to distinguish the serpent objects from others found at Beth
Shan. Note the following examples: cracked pottery with a serpent
whose head is partly missing (20:2), serpent base with head missing
(20:3 = 44A:4), a pottery cult object showing a serpent head missing
(21:15), a serpent cult object with head missing (41A:2), serpent cult
object with female breasts and head broken off (42A:2), two serpents,
cult objects, with heads missing (42A:5), serpent cult object with
breasts and a cup for lacteal fluid (45A:4). Infrequently, other objects
also appear as if someone has broken them or smashed the head;
note especially the Ashtoreth (45A:5). Also, recall that the six
cylindrical and one rectangular cult stands with serpents are
fragmented. Are these broken serpent objects related to Hezekiah’s
reform? He did banish the worshippers of Nechushtan (the serpent
idol) from the Jerusalem Temple.
It seems relatively certain that Beth Shan, beginning in the second
millennium BCE, was the center of a serpent cult.124 The worship of the
serpent there may have given rise to the name; for example, N. H.
Snaith was convinced that “Beth-shan means ‘house of the snake.’ “125
In fact, so many serpent objects were found at Beth Shan that the
categories are often shaped by serpent iconography. For example, the
so-called Beth Shan sacred boxes are divided into those with
serpents, those with serpents and doves, and those without serpents
and doves.126 There can be no doubt that before Beth Shan fell to the
Israelites it was the center of a cult in which serpents and doves
represented a fertility goddess. Serpent iconography thus most likely
symbolized power, health, rejuvenation, and life.127 There can also be
no doubt that the deity worshipped at Beth Shan was symbolized as a
serpent, and since the ophidian iconography often has breasts, we
should conclude that a serpent goddess was worshipped there. The
association of the serpent and the dove indicates that both may well
have been related to the celebration of spring and the return of
vegetation. To what extent is Jesus’ statement about serpents and
doves informed, and once understood, in terms of the ancient
association of serpents and doves: “Be wise as serpents and innocent
as doves” (Mt 10:16; NRSV)?

Dan

Dan (Laish, Tell el-Qadi) sits beneath Mount Hermon in northern

Galilee. The huge spring nearby provides the major source of the
River Jordan, and the water that pours out of the earth here, from the
Anti-Lebanon range, is often breathtaking and always refreshing in this
semi-arid land.128 Excavations at Dan most likely reveal evidence of
the revolution led by Jeroboam I, the son of Nebat, who, after the
death of Solomon in 928 BCE, set up shrines at Dan and Bethel to rival
the cult in Jerusalem (Judg 18:30, 1 Kgs 12:29–30).129 Both these
“new” shrines were built at old traditional cult centers linked
respectively with Jacob and the first settlements of the tribe of Dan that
conquered this area (assuming there is historical meaning in the Bible
regarding this site).
At Dan “two complete pithoi with a snake decoration” were
uncovered;130 in fact, three pithoi with ophidian iconography were
recovered, although one was found in fragments.131 They were
discovered “under a thick layer of crushed travertine,” along with an
incense stand; hence, A. Biran can conclude that “we were digging
within the sacred precinct of the city of Dan of the 10th and beginning
of the 9th centuries B.C.E.”132 That is precisely the time of Jeroboam I.
The two well-preserved pithoi (large vessels) could contain over
300 liters each. They were found with a Phoenician juglet, and
Phoenician influence appears also on some shallow bowls or
plates.133 On one pithos is an impression of a man, perhaps a god,
who holds two ibexes. The serpents on each pithos are in relief and
appear just above the middle horizontal triple line. The head of each
serpent is raised, and the bodies are displayed so that the serpents
appear to be writhing.134 One rises at about a 45-degree angle, the
other at almost a 90-degree angle. No dots indicate skin, and no eyes
or tongues are depicted. These are certainly serpents since the bodies
appear in a serpentine fashion and the heads are larger, especially on
one of the pithos, but the tails are much thinner. It is not clear what the
symbolic meaning could be; perhaps the raised head symbolized
power and thus the serpents protected the contents. A positive
meaning is assured since the ophidian imagery was found in a cultic
setting.
Also, at Dan a “serpent house” was found in Stratum V of the
twelfth century BCE(in room 7082), which is immediately after the
conquest of Laish (the Canaanite name of Dan; Judg 18:29). I agree
with Biran who thinks that the “snake house may well have been
modeled after a temple.”135 The intended use of this vessel becomes
clear when one studies it in light of what has been learned after
examining the similar objects found at Ugarit (Ras Shamra), Hazor,
and especially at Enkomi and Athienou on Cyprus.136 Since no holes
are provided for the sacred serpent to breathe, it is unlikely that the
serpent lived in the house. If it did, the opening could not have been
closed, or it would have been closed with cloth that would allow air to
enter the house. Perhaps the serpent house at Dan had a door and
the object was used for temporarily transporting the serpent from its
home to the ceremonial room of a temple.
What would the serpent have symbolized? In light of the veneration
of serpents in antiquity and in ancient Palestine, most likely the images
represented a divinity and perhaps a god. The god would be the
protector of the city and the provider of human wants, including fertility,
beauty, and regeneration.

Jerusalem

An examination of all the archaeological reports of Jerusalem would

tend to reveal that no ophidian iconography has been found in the
numerous and varied excavations there.137 This fact needs to be
reassessed in light of two major observations. First, the continuous
building programs in Jerusalem have required taking the restorations
down to bedrock, thus destroying the evidence of former levels and
their contents. Second, the “Holy City” was purified of ophidian
imagery by the successive reforms to stress the worship of Yahweh
according to the Deuteronomist, so that the worship in the Temple and
Holy City would meet such standards. One is reminded especially of
the reforms by Hezekiah. He removed the images of the serpent and
their worshippers from the Temple (Nechushtan; we shall discuss this
in a subsequent chapter).
Yet one would think that, as at other ancient archaeological sites,
some ophidian imagery would be discovered, perhaps in a cistern (that
has proved to be the case, as we shall explain). No ophidian
iconography has been found in what seems to be left of the Jebusite
city. Today, it seems appropriate to repeat the comment P. H. Vincent
of the Ecole Biblique made in 1912: to make any sweeping
conclusions regarding the Jebusite city “would be for the moment
premature.”138
How extensive was the image of the serpent in Jerusalem,
especially in the period from 1000 BCE until 135 BCE Four observations
help answer this question. First, prior to the United Kingdom or at least
dating from its earliest days is a place known as the “Zohelet Stone” (
) or “Serpent Stone.” It is beside Ain Rogel, and it was to this
spring and the Serpent Stone that Prince Adonijah went to be crowned
king while his father lay dying on his bed (1 Kgs 1:9). B. Mazar wisely
suggested that this “site and the Serpent’s Stone seem to echo past
traditions of a ‘holy place’ hallowed by traditions held dear by the
natives and their ancestors.”139 What was the Serpent’s Stone? It was
by a spring; was the spring home to serpents? Did it have snake
houses with serpents that protected the spring?
Second, at night Nehemiah exits Jerusalem by the Valley Gate,
which he identifies as near the “Dragon Well,” or Fountain, or Spring
(Neh 2:13). The Hebrew word used is tnyn (pin), which has a variety of
meanings, most of them negative. It basically means a dragon. Was
Nehemiah referring to the same area as designated by the Serpent
Stone?
Third, in his War of the Jews, Josephus mentions a “Pool of
Serpents” (War 5.108).140 What was it? Where was it? Most
nineteenth-and twentieth-century scholars assume that the Serpents’
Pool, which according to Josephus is near Herod’s Monument, is to be
identified with the Sultan’s Pool. They are thus indebted to C. Schick
who first made this identification and announced it in a letter dated
November 1891.141 In his informed study of Jerusalem, D. Bahat
places the Serpents’ Pool where Schick had thought it to be.142
More recently, M. Broshi, building on the discoveries of E. Netzer
and S. Ben Arieh,143 reached a different conclusion. He argued, quite
persuasively, that the Pool of Serpents and Herod’s Monument must
be located north and slightly west of the Damascus Gate.144 This
hypothesis has archaeological, literary, and topographical support.
There is an aqueduct dating from the Hasmonean Period about 4
meters southwest of the southern tower of the Damascus Gate, as D.
Bahat has shown.145 It must lead to some pool to the north of the city,
and the most likely place is northwest where there used to be a natural
depression for runoff water. During the period of the Crusades a pool
was located there called lacus legerii. 146 The area was once called
“Ard el-Birkeh” (Neighborhood of the Pool). Situated nearby and
northwest of the pool are the remains of a monumental building with
impressive opus reticulatum (a refined form of construction). The
building is Herodian and constructed similarly to monuments in Rome
and Herodian Jericho.147 This monument, probably a tomb for Herod’s
family, was on a major thoroughfare to Jerusalem.148
It is not imperative to discern where the Serpents’ Pool and Dragon
Well were located in or near Jerusalem. In our search for the meaning
of serpent iconography in ancient Palestine, it suffices to know that
serpents provided names to the areas in and near Jerusalem.
 Fourth, there can be no doubt that serpent imagery and symbolism
were prevalent in Jerusalem before 70 CE, and especially before
Hezekiah’s reform, since ancient serpent iconography is abundant in
the antiquities market in or near the Old City. Surely some of it comes
from the environs of Jerusalem, usually from caves or tombs.
These assumptions and suggestions are proved by archaeological
research. First, an impressive vessel with a serpent was found long
ago in or near what is called the via dolorosa. The object will be
discussed in the second portion of this chapter, when we examine a
possible Asklepieion in Jerusalem.

Ekron (Tel Miqne, Khirbet el-Muqanna’)

Ekron is 35 kilometers southwest of Jerusalem, on the edge of the

coastal plain by the northeast corridor that ran from Ashdod to Gezer
in antiquity.149 It was one of the capitals of the Philistine Pentapolis
and considered part of “the land that remains” (Jos 15:11). According
to 2 Kings 1:2, King Ahaziah in the ninth century sent messengers to
consult “Baal Zebub” (which means “Lord of the Fly or Swarm,” a
deliberate corruption of the better-known epithet “Baal Zebul,” which
denoted the Royal Baal),150 who was probably the major god at Ekron.
Excavations at Ekron reveal cities in the Middle Bronze, Late Bronze,
and Iron Ages.
In the wealthy and elite Lower City of the Iron Age, which indicates
the new culture of the Philistines, archaeologists discovered a golden
cobra. The ophidian object was found in the palace at Ekron and dates
from the time when Egypt controlled the area. The palace was
destroyed in 603 BCE during Nebuchadnezzar’s campaign, so the
cobra most likely dates from the seventh century BCE. The cobra is
elegantly crafted and rises up realistically. It is hammered out of fine
gold and fashioned in the Egyptian style.151 The hood is expanded,
like the uraeus, and horizontal strokes mark its center.

Tell Beer-sheba

Tell Beer-sheba is located at the northern end of the southern desert,

the Negev, and was the southernmost part of “the Land” in the famous
formula “from Dan to Beer-sheba.”
A large horned altar intended for animal sacrifices was found at Tell
Beer-sheba in the summer of 1973. It is the first such object ever
uncovered. All four horns of the altar were found and the stones are
beautiful ashlars.152 Blackened portions of the altar attest to the fact
that it was used in antiquity. The altar is a cube: 1.6 × 1.6 × 1.6
meters.153 The altar was discovered in a wall of a storehouse that was
destroyed near the end of the eighth century BCE, about the time that
some artist depicted a large serpent in the middle of an alabaster relief
from Khorsabad, dated to the time of Sargon II (721–705 BCE).154 The
altar thus antedates Sargon’s reign. Because of similarities with other
horned altars found in the land, one may suggest that it was
constructed sometime between the eleventh and ninth centuries BCE.
On the ashlar beneath one of the horned altars is an engraved
image of a serpent.155 The serpent’s head is clear and the body is
twisting back upon itself so that its head is parallel with its tail. The
serpent’s head points downward to the earth, perhaps to signify its
chthonic character. Y. Aharoni, who directed the expedition that found
the altar, prefers to emphasize the fertility of serpent iconography:
“One stone has a deeply engraved decoration of a twisting snake …,
an ancient symbol of fertility widely dispersed throughout the Near
East.” He continues, “The symbol of a snake was venerated in Israel
from Moses’ times (Num. 2:8–9) and the bronze serpent was
worshipped in the Jerusalem temple until the days of Hezekiah (2
Kings 18:4).”156 Keel rightly stresses the numinous character of this
ophidian symbol.157 Aharoni correctly conjectures that since the
horned altar was dismantled prior to the end of the eighth century, it
may have been destroyed because of the edict of King Hezekiah (2
Kgs 18:22).158

Mareshah (Tel Sandahanna)

Mareshah is a site in Judah about halfway between Beer-sheba and

Ramleh, just north of Gezer. The town seems to have originated in the
Iron Age; it was conquered in 701 BCE by Sennacherib.
In the third and second centuries BCE, Idumeans, Sidonians, and
Greeks buried their dead in the necropolis at Mareshah. Tombs I and II
are rich with paintings. One scene shows a serpent rising up before a
bull.159 The exact meaning of the ophidian symbolism is far from clear.
Is it conceivable that the artist was thinking about Mithraic mythology
that has a serpent helping Mithra slay a bull? While this answer is
possible, bulls and serpents were linked in non-Mithraic myths. A
search for answers may be aided by iconography found elsewhere.
For example, one should consider the vase in the form of a bull found
in Luristan with a serpent looking out from a circular hole above the
bull’s two front legs and another serpent gazing from behind the
head.160

Carmel

Mount Carmel is a long mountain range running southeast to

northwest. At its southern end is Megiddo, and at its northern
promontory that overlooks the Mediterranean Sea sits Shiqmona.
Mount Carmel is thus the northwestern continuation of the Samaritan
hills. Impressive prehistoric caves are found, especially on its southern
flank, including Abu Usba, Skhul, Jamal, Sefunim, Tabun, Kebara, and
el-Wad.161 Mount Carmel is most famous because it is the site on
which Elijah confronted Ahab and the prophets of Baal (1 Kgs 18:17–
46). In the first century BCE, Alexander Jannaeus captured Mount
Carmel (Ant. 13.396), but Pompey took it from the Hasmoneans and
linked it with Acco (War 3.35). In the Hellenistic and Roman periods, a
temple to Zeus and an altar were situated there.162

Figure 23. The Carmel Aphrodite. Courtesy of the Israel Museum.

In 1929, fragments of a statuette were found on this famous

mountain, recovered from the large cave named Magharat el Wad.
The portrayal of Aphrodite (Venus) is unlike her embodiment in the
famous Venus de Milo now prominently displayed in the Louvre in
Paris163 or her depictions on the Parthenon.164 She is also dissimilar
to the depiction of bare-breasted Aphrodite being born from the sea
fully mature. That is, she is shown entirely nude, as in the following:
the mirror in the Louvre that depicts her with Eros, the crouching
Aphrodite in the Museo Nazionale Romano, the bathing Aphrodite
from Rhodes, the Aphrodite from Cyrene in the Museo Nazionale
Romano, the Aphrodite from Delos in the National Archaeological
Museum in Athens, and especially the Aphrodite created by the
sculptor Praxiteles now in the Vatican.165 In the Mount Carmel
statuette, her weight is on her left leg, and her right leg is inclined
forward.
The terra-cotta statuette was originally dated to the “late fourth or
third century B.C.,”166 but has been redated to the first century CE.
While the statuette was rightly associated with Praxiteles (c. 370-c.
330 BCE) because he was the first Greek to display the female body in
full nudity, it is nevertheless a copy or an imitation from a later
period.167 Praxiteles’ statues were widely copied, and his style became
internationally famous and influential. The Roman style, languid body,
and elongated form place the statuette within the art of the first century
CE or maybe slightly earlier.168

The iconography does not indicate that the figure is a serpent

goddess. She is clearly Aphrodite. Her weight is on her left foot. Her
left hand seems to rest on something to her left, now worn away. What
is unique and highly significant for us about this statuette of Aphrodite?
This is the only representation of Aphrodite, as far as I know, that has
a snake on her body.
On her right leg she wears an anklet. On this leg, above the knee,
and on the thigh is carved a serpent. The serpent appears from behind
the right thigh and curls upward. The serpent’s head is well shaped.
The artist placed no features on the serpent; there are no dots to
signify skin or eyes. One cannot be certain how the head of the snake
originally looked since it is badly worn. Are we to imagine something
like a serpent garter?169
What is the meaning of the serpent symbolism? The “serpent
garter” probably meant to denote the sexual attractiveness of the
female, but it could also evoke images of beauty, as well as the erect
phallus, fertility, and power. We have already seen that the rampant
tendency to interpret the serpent, only and always, as phallic or a
symbol meaning only or primarily eroticism (as, e.g., in the publications
by P. Diel)170 is misleading and not perceptive of the extensive
meanings of snake symbolism in an-tiquity.171 Of course, one of the
meanings of the serpent is the phallus or eroticism.172
The sculpture is on public display in the Israel Museum. It is very
similar to the figurine of Aphrodite found at Dardanos and dated to the
second century BCE.173 This figurine also has a serpent as a garter
belt, but it is on the left thigh. Once again, the head of the serpent is
not directed to the pubic area; in fact, it is turned away from the
woman. Another serpent is depicted as coiled rings on the upper left
arm.174 The statuette of Aphrodite at Dardanos with the serpent’s head
turned away from the attractive body should warn those seeking to
discern the meaning of serpent symbolism that the Freudian approach
is often not suggested by the iconography, which may resist such
sexual interpretations.
Another marble statue is similar to the Carmel Aphrodite. Again
Aphrodite is completely nude. She has a snake bracelet on her right
hand. No eyes, mouth, or skin are depicted. The head faces
downward, following the fall of the arm, which covers her pubic area.
The finish of the surface and the modeling of the pierced ears indicate,
perhaps, the late Hellenistic Period or the early Roman Period.175
Aphrodite was also revered in Akko, only a little north of Carmel.
We know this from a passage in the Mishnah. Rabbi Gamaliel II (late
first century CE) was ostensibly asked by a non-Jew in the baths at
Akko (Acre) how he could explain entering a bath with pagan idols.
Gamaliel replied, “I came not within her limits: she came within mine!
They do not say, ‘Let us make a bath for Aphrodite,’ but ‘Let us make
an Aphrodite as an adornment for the bath.’ … thus what is treated as
a god is forbidden, but what is not treated as a god is permitted”
(Avodah Zarah 3:4, Danby). This passage is quite remarkable. It not
only specifies that in the first century CE there was a statue of
Aphrodite at Akko, but that the intention of an author is not to be
confused with the meaning supplied by an observer. In this case, the
two perspectives are antithetical. The author depicted a statue of the
goddess Aphrodite, but Gamaliel dismissed the sculpture as merely a
decoration.
It is clear that Aphrodite did not primarily represent sex and
eroticism. She was the embodiment of beauty. L. Kreuz has explored
the genesis of the conception of beauty by focusing on Aphrodite in
antiquity.176 The statuette discovered on Mount Carmel depicts
Aphrodite as the one who symbolizes beauty and aesthetics,
especially as contemplated by some at the beginning of the Common
Era. The serpent is thus a positive symbol, perhaps of goodness, life,
and beauty.

Summary

This survey of snake objects found in controlled excavations grounds

our reflections on serpent symbology. Since many of the snake objects
or images were discovered in or near temples or cult settings, it is
certain that the serpent denoted a god, a divinity; it also denoted other
human aspirations, needs, and appreciations, including—but not
limited to—beauty, power, fertility, rejuvenation, royalty, the cosmos,
and life. Since the serpent is often carved on the top of vessels that
would have contained water, milk, or wine, it symbolized the divine
protector. I have not found what will become so obvious when we
study ophidian symbolism in the Asclepian cult; that is, I have not
found clear evidence from controlled excavations that the serpent
denoted, or connoted, rejuvenation and immortality. Perhaps
rejuvenation and new life are reflected on the snake stands and altars
found in the Canaanite sites, especially at Beth Shan.

EGYPTIAN SERPENT ICONOGRAPHY:

ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND LITERARY EVIDENCE

Early ophidian symbolism takes stunning form among the Egyptians

sometime around 3000 BCE. Even their language is influenced by
serpent iconography; hieroglyphs evolved from pictorial art. In the
Middle Egyptian language of 2240 to 1740 BCE, which continued on
monuments and in some texts into the Roman Period, two of the
twenty-four phonograms are the symbol of a snake: the sound f is
represented by a line drawing of a horned viper and d by a snake in
the form of a uraeus.177
The study of Egyptian serpent iconography is too well known today,
throughout the world, to warrant anything but a summary. Serpents are
featured on monuments, on thrones, in stelae, and just about
everywhere in ancient Egypt.178 As E. A. Wallis Budge of the British
Museum stated in 1911: “The serpent was either a power for good or
the incarnation of diabolical cunning and wickedness.”179 Perhaps
Egyptian serpent iconography is well known not only because of the
vast number of tomes, scholarly and popular, but because of the
pervasive image of the gold mask of Tutankhamen with the noticeably
raised cobra. The cobra was an ideal choice for the creature who
would guard the pharaoh. The Egyptians observed that the cobra had
no eyelids and thus would always be awake to guard the pharaoh, a
god on earth. The uraeus probably signified kingship, power, royalty,
and divinity.180
Figures 24 and 25 are two striking examples of the uraeus, with the
cobra upraised and placed on the head of Tutankhamen and later
depicted as a bronze figure. The latter example was found in or near
Jerusalem, dating from the Roman Period. What did the uraeus
symbolize? In the Strasbourg Musée Archéologique we are told, “The
uraeus personifies the eye of Re which destroys enemies by fire. The
royal crown with the uraeus should be identified with the eye of Re.”181
One of the most impressive, but little known, examples of ophidian
iconography is found in the catacombs of Kom el-Shuqafa in
Alexandria. They date from the first century CE. The doorway to the
burial chamber is filled with serpent symbolism. Note the words of
Jean-Yves Empereur in Alexandria Rediscovered: 182

To enter the burial chamber, one has to pass through a doorway above which there is a
winged disk under a frieze of cobras. On either side of it are circular shields covered with
scales and with a Medusa head in the center (to “petrify” tomb-robbers), and two snakes
(representing the Agathodaimon, the benevolent deity), wearing the double crown of Egypt
and coiled around the caduceus of Hermes and beribboned thyrsus of Dionysus, both Greek
symbols. [Italics added to stress the ophidian symbology.]
Figure 24. Left. The Mask of Tutankhamen, Showing the Uraeus. JHC Collection
Figure 25. Right. Raised Serpent, Similar to the Egyptian Uraeus. Probably Roman Period.
Provenance unknown, but perhaps Judaea. JHC Collection

Most impressively, each massive Agathadaimon on the sides of the

entrance to the burial chamber holds a caduceus of Hermes
Psychopompos (the god who leads the dead into the next world).
Above each large serpent is a Medusa with snakes in her hair.183 Here
in one scene we have a collage of serpent imagery, and one point is
central: the serpent is chthonic and symbolizes immortality.
Some comment should be focused on Cleopatra VII’S association
with the snake. Cleopatra usually appears in art and lore with an asp
biting or about to bite her breast.184 Probably under the influence of
Simonetta Vespuccis’ Cleopatra, Michelangelo drew a Cleopatra who
is virtually encircled by a large snake that bites her right breast.185
Such well-known art helps explain why this Egyptian queen is
celebrated for taking her own life by letting an asp bite her.186 While
there is abundant evidence for this belief, it is less fact and more myth.
As Dio Cassius stated in his Roman History (second or third cent.):
“No one knew for sure how she died. They only found small pricks on
her arm. Some said she brought an asp to her.”187
The myth has created history. Note this unreliable report by the
Roman historian Suetonius in his The Twelve Caesars: “Antony sued
for peace, but Augustus forced him to commit suicide—and inspected
the corpse. He was so anxious to save Cleopatra as an ornament for
his triumph that he actually summoned Psyllian snake-charmers to
suck the poison from her self-inflicted wound, supposedly the bite of
an asp.”188 As would be expected for a Roman who was politically one
of the friends of the emperor (amici principis), Suetonius is lauding
Augustus, who forced Antony to commit suicide, and defaming
Cleopatra, whom Augustus was “anxious to save.” As A. Wallace-
Hadrill indicated, Suetonius belonged to the equestrian rank and
served the emperor, and his report reflects “the views of the courts” at
which he served.189 Such self-serving tendencies are transparent and
reveal the fact that objective history was not the only goal for
Suetonius’ writing. What interests us is the anguine symbology:
Cleopatra and the asp.
Figure 26. Ceramic Ophidian Object under Egyptian Influence or Maybe Egyptian. Date and
provenance unknown. JHC Collection

An asp’s bite could be extremely painful, and a pin dipped with

poison may have sufficed. The bite of an asp, however, provides a
myth that explains how the famous queen was introduced to
immortality. It is this symbolical meaning that is in focus: the asp is the
purveyor of immortality. Unfortunately, many busts and sculptures of
Aphrodite were altered by restorers who added a snake to make the
figure the famous queen of Egypt, so one has to dismiss these as
fabrications based on myth.190 So powerful were the legends of
Cleopatra’s death that history blends with myth and makes her almost
indistinguishable from Dido, an earlier African (Carthaginian) queen
whose suicide is recounted in Virgil’s Aeneid.
Long before her death at thirty-nine, Cleopatra was associated with
serpent symbolism. A first-century BCE blue glass intaglio shows her
portrait with a triple uraeus as headdress. The snakes are crowned
with sun discs.191 The royal bearing, hairstyle, diadem, and especially
the serpents clarify that this woman is Cleopatra. For most people,
myth is more attractive than history, as we have been seeing; thus,
Cleopatra will continue to be portrayed with an asp about to bite her
naked breast. The imagery, as is now evident to the reader, is both
ancient and primordially psychic. The asp in the Cleopatra saga
represents not only immortality but also mortality; we are again
confronted, as we saw in the introduction, by the double entendre of
anguine iconography. The venom produces the anti-venom. We shall
see, in a subsequent chapter, how all this plays out in the study of
Numbers 21 and John 3.

Figure 27. Serpent with Two Legs. “Papyrus.” Egyptian. Late Dynastic Period-Ptolemaic
Period. H: 12.4 cm. L: 76.3 cm. Courtesy of the Brooklyn Museum of Art 47.218.136.

The ceramic ophidian object, shown in Fig. 26, is clearly under

Egyptian influence and may be Egyptian. It was purchased from an
antiquities dealer in Jerusalem192 who brought artifacts from Egypt to
Israel. The object’s date and provenance are unknown. It is perhaps
three thousand years old. The serpent appears with a bovine figure,
and the piece is rather crudely fashioned. What is the symbolic
meaning of this piece? It is introduced now for discussion.
Sometimes biblical and classical scholars assume that the serpent
does not have legs and so some literary descriptions of fantastic
animals with legs cannot be a serpent. The classical example occurs
in the exegesis of Isaiah 6. Each of the Seraphim covers “his legs”
(I’tOI) with wings (Isa 6:2).
We should not doubt that the Seraphim are serpents. We have
seen that fossil snakes have legs. We have also perceived that
modern snakes often have truncated legs. Now, it should be clarified
that in antiquity snakes are often depicted with legs. In some serpent
iconography and literature a serpent has five feet.193
One of the most stunning examples is found in a papyrus now
preserved in the Brooklyn Museum. The artist depicted a serpent with
two strong legs with feet and two hands. Serpents clearly were
assumed to have had legs in antiquity. As we shall see, the serpent
according to the Genesis myth probably had feet and could walk.
Otherwise God’s curse that he will henceforth be condemned to crawl
on his belly makes no sense. In legends and iconographically, the
serpent tends to regain its legs sometime in the Middle Ages.194 Yet,
most people—and scholars—presuppose today that the serpent is,
and has always, been without legs or feet.

ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE FROM CRETE:

OPHIDIAN OBJECTS AND THE MINOAN SERPENT
“GODDESSES”

Serpent iconography and symbology appear on Crete. One impressive

example is the burnished terra-cotta snake goddess recovered from
Kato Chorio, which is near Ierapetra.195 This Neolithic (6500–3500
BCE) symbol depicts a woman seated, with her lower torso that of a
snake (we announce the discovery of a ceramic Isis with an anguine
body when we discuss the Greek and Roman data). Numerous jugs
and vessels from Minoan culture bear serpents.196 A jug with two
serpents on it was found on Cyprus in Dhenia. The serpents are not
clearly depicted; there is no head or tail. Twelve circles with white paint
indicate the animal’s scales. Other objects in the Pierides Museum
display snakes and snake motifs.
Since this serpent vessel was recovered from a cultic area and a
temple, it clearly had religious significance. What did the devotees of
the serpent cult imagine the creature to symbolize? One may imagine
that they assumed it was a god or had divine features, providing
protection and a good life. Perhaps it was celebrated to assure the
fertility of the earth, especially the gardens that were plentiful on
Crete.197
As the reader might expect, we now come to the famous “serpent
goddesses” of Crete.198 Fragments of at least five faience serpent
goddesses (if they are not cultic priestesses) can be seen in the
Herakleion Archaeological Museum.199 Two have been considerably
restored and are the most famous ophidian realia from ancient Crete.
One is a mother figure, and the other may be her daughter. They can
be seen on public display in the Archaeological Museum in Herakleion.
The serpent goddesses date from the New Temple Period (1700–
1400)200 or about 1600 BCE. This period is the pinnacle in Minoan art;
the finest frescoes and elegant buildings are contemporaneous with
these faience treasures.
The tall goddess with the serpent on top has two serpents that curl
down each arm and are held by the goddess in her hands (No. 63 on
Crete). The mouths of the snakes are turned outward. The serpent on
the right arm has markings for the mouth and eyes. A serpent is laced
around each breast. A bodice, or girdle, rises from the hips to the
bottom of the breasts. A leather thong pulls the bodice tight, lifting the
breasts and making the waist small. The breasts are exposed with
pointed nipples. The interest of the artist is on the torso, which is better
crafted and detailed.

Figure 28. Two Serpent “Goddesses” from Knossos. Circa 1600 BCE. JHC Collection from
professional replicas

On the back of the goddess, the hair hangs straight down and rests
on her back, just below the shoulder; it is cut horizontally. The garment
hangs on her shoulders, leaving the back as exposed as the front. The
serpents on the arms continue to just below the lower buttock on the
back. The leather strap spirals from the bodice to the back and was
probably attached behind the neck and under the carefully cut hair.
She stands erect with her head titled slightly forward, balanced
over her legs, which are of no interest to the artist, since he hides them
behind her skirt. She looks forward and downward at about a 55-
degree angle. Her eyes are wide open, her ears large, and a gentle
smile graces the face. The breasts now are slightly whiter than the rest
of the statuette.
The large lower garment flows downward to form a strong base
similar to a pyramid. One receives a feeling of strength, firmness, and
being well grounded. The light horizontal lines on the skirt modify the
otherwise too forceful downward movement of the head, gaze, and
slanting arms. The overall effect is a sense of grace, beauty, charm,
nourishment, comfort, a mild sensual efficaciousness, and awesome
femininity. The symbolic force evokes feelings of motherhood, life, and
sexual energy.
The smaller goddess, or younger woman, is perhaps in her
twenties (No. 65 on Crete). Her youthful face is not nearly as attractive
as the older woman’s. The gentle smile of the older woman is gone in
place of a mouth, with full lips, that suggests some concern. This may
add to the wonder or fear instilled in the viewer, who is immediately
drawn to the uplifted serpents. These are held high with arms
outstretched.
The head of each serpent is below the hands. An impression of
concern, or alertness, is carried forth by the painted, wide-open eyes.
The ears are small and more realistic than those of the older woman.
As with the former, no feet or legs are visible.
Two exposed full breasts explode outward from a bodice pulled
tight, making the breasts rise and protrude. The nipples crown the
exposed breasts that are whiter than the rest of the body, and, like the
exposed sections of the arms, are clear of any decoration. On the
back, the hair flows downward to the upper buttock.
The serpents in the younger woman’s hands are medium sized.
They almost reach from her fingertips to her shoulders. These smaller
snakes are in contrast to the larger snakes on the older figure.
The young woman seems more naïve and less experienced than
the older one. The young woman does not appear as comfortable with
the snakes as the older woman. Both women stand erect, with their
weight over their feet and breasts thrust forward.
As impressive as these goddesses or priestesses appear, they
should be understood within Minoan art. Neither has received the skill
and attention of the rhyton (drinking vessel) in the shape of a bull from
the Little Palace at Knossos. The goddesses are made of faience and
have not been decorated with gold, silver, or gems. The bull libation
vase is of steatite. The eyes are made of rock-crystal with red iris. The
mouth is white shell. The horns (now restored) are gilded wood.201 The
bull rhyton reveals the Minoans’ inherent love of nature. Yet there is a
power generated and felt when one examines the serpent goddesses;
surely, it is because of the serpent symbolism.
What could be the symbolic meaning of these serpents held by the
full-breasted women? To obtain insights for a perceptive answer to this
question we should immerse ourselves in Minoan culture. We must
divorce ourselves from the old methodology that provides answers to
questions that have not been astutely evaluated; we need to avoid
wish-fulfillment conclusions and aim toward those that are well
founded.
The palace of Minos in Knossos is almost ultramodern, with
running water and a cool lower area. The king and queen’s chambers
are sumptuously decorated. The Minoans seem to have lived
peacefully together in a common society; something like a corporate
personality developed. The setting is ideal. It is most restful in
Knossos, when one is sitting by the high palace and looking at the
surrounding hills that seem to hug and nourish this spot.202
The Minoans loved nature; they focused their art on depicting
marvel-ously beautiful animals and attractively verdant gardens. An
elegant fruit stand with molded flowers was found on Phaistos;203 it
dates from the Proto-palatial Period. Focusing only on art and flower
appreciation can be misleading, and such blind methodology would
lead one to assume that the plantation owners in Mississippi, with their
paintings of flowers and flower-decorated cups, lived in a peaceful
democratic society in which all were flower lovers.204 Yet Cretan
archaeology does support the conclusion that the Minoans were
nature lovers. As R. Castleden states: “Mi-noan art … focuses on
themes from nature—crocuses, sailing nautiluses, dolphins,
octopuses, swallows, ibexes among them—rather than themes from
contemporary events.”205 Due to the evidence of trade with other
countries, the Minoans were influenced by Egyptian and Anatolian art,
but they developed their own art in dynamic and creative ways. Hence,
the ancient Minoans were not only the first artists within European
society. They remain among the most surprisingly skilled in art and
iconography.
Life in Bronze Age Crete was robust, dynamic, and prosperous.
The youth were well fed and muscular; they enjoyed the challenging
sport of bull jumping as is stunningly revealed in the “Bull-leaping”
fresco in the Palace of Knossos.206 During the history of Christianity,
the human body was not always admired and often perceived as the
source of sex, which was deemed sinful. The Minoans, however, like
the Israelites, had a healthy attitude toward the body. The serpent
goddesses and other bare-breasted women like the one depicted in
terra-cotta and found in the shrine at Hagia Triada (its Minoan name is
still unknown) are impressively well made.207 Not only the goddesses
or priestesses, but the average women, if we can depend on the art
left for us to study, were often bare breasted.208 They were “elegant,
graceful, poised, well-mannered and sexually alluring, with their
breasts displayed and their lips and eyes accentuated by make-up.”209
S. Alexiou concludes that the snake goddesses are attired in the
“dress fashionable in the Minoan court round 1600 BC: a skirt with
flounces, an apron and an open bodice leaving the breasts bare.”210
On Crete, and within Minoan society, the feminine was not feared or
marginalized; the female dominated in the most attractive ways.211
During the New Temple Period, women most likely became dominant,
especially in religious ceremonies.
Is the date of the serpent goddesses significant? Yes,
archaeologists have uncovered a vast amount of evidence that the Old
Temple Period or Proto-palatial Period (2000–1700) ended abruptly
and with a cataclysm that destroyed Monastiraki, Phaistos, and
Knossos. Archaeologists found not only evidence of fire, but also
leveled buildings and crushed pottery mingled with lime, especially at
Phaistos.212 One event need not be sought to explain the widespread
destruction, and the catastrophic fires may not have happened on the
same day, yet it is evident that an earthquake caused some of the
destruction.213 Earthquakes also devastated Crete in 1450 BCE, 1650
CE, and 1956 CE.214 An “earthquake storm” seems to have struck the
entire eastern Mediterranean world from about 1225 to 1175 BCE.215 It
is certain that earthquakes have shaped human history; Khirbet
Qumran shows signs of the earthquake in 31 BCE, and at Sussita the
columns of a church lie in parallel lines due to the earthquake of 749
CE.

The snake goddesses were made shortly after the earthquake in

1700 BCE, the event that probably brought to an end the first Palatial
Period.216 Their meaning may well be connected with this horrible
event and the attempt by the Minoans to comprehend it.
One can imagine the Minoans bemoaning their fate and calling on
the gods for assistance. What gods would be implored? Surely, the
Minoans would appeal to the gods who controlled the ground, the ones
who were causing the earth to move. What chthonic symbol would be
most appropriate?
The answer is the serpent, the animal that was seen habitually
burrowing into the earth.217 These observations and insights are
corroborated by the recognition that Potnia, most likely the name given
to the mother serpent goddess, is the Earth Mother.218 A tablet
recovered from the archives at Knossos mentions an offering offered
to “da-pu-ri-to-jo po-ti-ni-ja” which means “Potnia of the Labyrinth.”219
Since the offering is honey and since it is offered to Potnia, it seems
evident that the goddess was represented by a living serpent housed
beneath the surface in one of the subterranean labyrinths at Knossos.
One is reminded of a legend about Homer, who dug a trench in the
earth and offered libations of milk, honey, sweet wine, and water for
the dead. While it is not certain that Homer was thinking about serpent
symbolism, his actions take us back to a time when such liquids were
offered to snakes. Their chthonic nature becomes apparent.
Snakes were revered on ancient Crete. Their relation with honey is
also grounded. Archaeologists recovered a terra-cotta snake that is
crawling above a honeycomb. The figure also dates from the New
Palace Period.220 Vases for use in the worship of domestic snakes are
on view in the Hera-kleion Archaeological Museum.
The dove was associated with goddesses on Crete. Most likely the
dove signified fertility, procreation, and perhaps love.221 We know that
the Minoans traded with nations in the east, including Palestine. We
also know that their art was influential on the Canaanites. Were the
cult stands at Beth Shan, with the clay serpents and doves, influenced
by Minoan iconography and symbolism? That discovery would not be
surprising.
The exposed breasts of the women could also be a key to the
meaning of the ophidian symbology of the goddesses—fertility, power,
beauty, motherhood, and the desirable all come to mind. If the creator
of these masterpieces, who represented the naturalism of the new
period that began after 1700 BCE,222 did not have all these ideas and
concepts in mind, surely many of those who viewed them in ancient
Knossos would have these, and similar ideas, brought to
consciousness. Other realia show that the Minoans depicted women,
priestesses probably, dancing. Perhaps one is reminded of the poetry
of the tenth Muse, the poetess Sappho of about 600 BCE. Recall
Sappho’s words:

And their feet move

rhythmically, as tender
feet of Cretan girls
danced once around an
altar of love, crushing
a circle in the soft
smooth flowering grass.223
A gold ring, dating about one hundred years after the faience snake
goddesses, was found near Knossos, in the tomb of Isopata; it is
elegant and shows “a religious scene which may represent an ecstatic
ritual dance and an ‘epiphany’ of a goddess.”224 The snake also
appears on a gold amulet.225
The artworks on Crete, in contrast to those on the southern
plantations, were not merely decorative; they served the spiritual
dimensions of Minoan culture. The women, after all, are goddesses.
Their long triangular skirts, like the Egyptian pyramids, anchor them
with the earth and draw one’s eyes eventually downward. The older
woman points downward with the serpents on her arms. From the
waist of both goddesses hangs a garment that directs one’s attention
to the earth. Surely, we should finally conclude that among the many
meanings of the serpent represented by these faience objects is the
worship and adoration of the serpent, the god of the world beneath the
earth. When one is reminded that in ancient cosmology that is also the
place of the “underworld,” then one can connect with these images the
concept of the serpent as the one who knows the secret of immortality.
Finally, let me reflect on the type of serpents held by the
goddesses. Three types of snakes are native to Crete: the Balkan
Whip Snake (Coluber ge-monensis), the Leopard Snake (Elaphe
situla), and the Dice Snake (Na-trixz tessellate). None is poisonous.
The goddesses do not hold poisonous snakes, since neither ancient
fossils nor modern species on Crete are poisonous.226 The markings
of the snakes are not realistic; judging by length, the older woman may
be holding Dice Snakes or Leopard Snakes and the younger one two
Balkan Whip Snakes.
Figure 29. Left. Canaanite Bowl with Serpent on Handle. From Jerusalem or the environs of
Jericho. JHC Collection
Figure 30. Right. Canaanite Serpent Pitcher. From Jerusalem or the environs of Jericho. JHC
Collection

ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE OF MINOAN INFLUENCE

AMONG THE ANCIENT CANAANITES: THE SERPENT
BOWLS FROM ANCIENT PALESTINE

Four new discoveries must suffice to conclude our study of serpent

iconography among the Canaanites in ancient Palestine, which, as we
have indicated, was significantly influenced by Minoan art and culture.
These objects were not previously known.
The ceramic vessel in Fig. 29 is 14.1 centimeters high and 8.9
centimeters wide.227 It is most likely an example of Canaanite art of
the Middle Bronze Age. It is rounded on the bottom and may have
been intended to stand upright in sand. The aspect of interest for us is
the appliquéd clay on the handle. In light of our previous research and
the following study, it is evident that a serpent is intended in a stylized
shape. There is no tail, no head. In light of the insights already
obtained, it is apparent that a serpent was placed on the vessel,
perhaps to protect the contents and not merely to provide decoration.
It is conceivable that in a snake cult the serpent would be offered
water or milk that could be inside the vessel.
The second ceramic vessel (Fig. 30) is 7.2 centimeters high and
6.3 centimeters wide at the middle (not counting the single handle). It
seems to be dated a little later than the larger vessel. Although
cracked, it is in one piece and has not been restored. The bottom has
a pedestal that is 3 centimeters in diameter; the fast wheel is evident.

Figure 31. Left. Clay Vase with Snake Images on Body. Allegedly from a cave northwest of
Jericho. Bronze Age. Courtesy of Tom Cousins.
Figure 32. Right. Clay Vase with Two Serpent Images on Handle. Allegedly from a cave
northwest of Jericho. Bronze Age. Courtesy of Tom Cousins.

It is an elegantly made pitcher with an attractive lip. Perhaps it was

used on a table in a prosperous house for the pouring of some liquid,
perhaps oil, milk, wine, or honey. What is of keen interest for us is the
snake depicted on the handle. It has no tail and no curves. The nose
becomes one with the body of the vessel. It does have two pieces of
appliqued clay, above the body that is also made of appliqued clay;
they indicate the eyes of the serpent. As we shall clarify, the eyes are
usually the aspect of the snake that receives most of an artist’s
attention. Are the eyes detailed because the serpent symbolized keen
awareness (it does not blink) and wisdom? Perhaps the serpent was
placed with its head on the lip of the vessel to guard the contents, and
perhaps also within a Canaanite serpent cult to offer the deity
something to drink.
Two vases appeared within the storeroom of an antiquities dealer
in Jerusalem. Both allegedly come from a cave northwest of Jericho.
They each date from the Middle Bronze Age.228
The more crude clay vessel is in good shape, although the handle
was repaired in modern times (Fig. 31). It is an example of bichrome
ware, with light brown on beige-white. On the body, one finds the
crude drawing of an animal with four legs, two horns, a beard, and a
tail; perhaps a goat is depicted. On the other side of the vessel is a
drawing of a bird or rooster. The images were applied after the clay
had dried in the sun. The images seem to have been made with a
small, crude brush, as was often the practice in antiquity when
applying paint to pottery.229
Is the vessel ancient and authentic? I took both vessels to Dr. B. J.
Bor-tolot, head of Daybreak/Archaeometric Laboratory Services in
Guilford, CT. He drilled a minuscule hole at the base of the first vessel,
applied thermoluminescence authenticity dating to it, and concluded
that “the material of this sample was last fired 3060 ±650 years before
the present time.”230 Thus, the object is ancient. It probably dates
before 1060 BCE since thermoluminescence only ascertains the
authenticity of an object.
Around the body are two bands with a wavy line inside. There are
decorations on the neck and five wavy lines on the body. The handle
has a crisscross pattern, with wavy lines going up to the top. The neck
has three wavy lines that depict water or serpents. These two images
are often indistinguishable in ancient artwork; perhaps stylized
serpents seem more probable if this vessel is associated with the one
that follows.
The second ceramic vessel is more elegantly crafted. The
preparation of the pot is more refined and the art more careful or
advanced (but not necessarily dated differently) than the previous
example. The light clay was probably burnished before painting. This
bichrome ware has brown on white (or light beige).
Is the object ancient? Dr. Bortolot drilled a small hole in the base.
He then applied thermoluminescence authenticity dating to the vessel.
He reported that “the material of this sample was last fired 1760 ±400
years before the present date.”231 Thus, this vessel is also ancient.
Since, as just mentioned, thermoluminescence can only suggest that
the vessel is ancient, the date of manufacture is open for debate. The
object is not similar to the vessels made about 240 CE. One should
heed Dr. Bortolot’s words, added as “special comment” to this vessel
(an identically worded caution accompanies the other vessel): “This
area has clays prone to anomalous fading where part of the TL signal
is not stable, leading to underestimates of age by TL. This appears to
be the case here.” At this stage, all that can be assured is that each
vessel is ancient. We can also assume that the date of each vessel
has been underestimated; that will prove to be the case.
The iconography is interesting. Probably more than one utensil was
used to apply the paint to the clay; one was probably a small brush,
and another might have been a reed or stick.
On the body are horizontal and vertical lines. On the bottom are
two horizontal and two vertical ones that form a cross as in tic-tac-toe.
There is a circle in each quadrant. On the neck are three sets of four
concentric lines, then a wavy line at the tip of the jug. On the handle
are four wavy lines with pronounced flat “heads.” In the center of the
handle (see Fig. 32) are two wavy lines. They probably depict
serpents, since each wavy line ends in a flat end that looks like the
head of a serpent. A circle in each “head” probably designates an eye.
The serpent depicted on the left seems to have a straight line coming
out of its mouth. In the Late Bronze Age, serpents are often depicted
with elongated heads, prominent eyes, and sometimes with straight
lines protruding from the mouth.232 The snake images, even though
more stylistic than real, appear to be Canaanite and are paralleled by
the evidence of serpent worship at Hazor, which is well known through
the silver-plated bronze cult stand. Both this serpent cult stand, which
was probably held high by a priest, and the two clay vessels
introduced here date from about the fourteenth or thirteenth century
BCE.233

It is not clear what was contained in such vessels. Perhaps it is

wise to avoid specifics. Various foodstuffs (even opium) could have
been stored inside; the vessels could have held water, wine, milk, and
conceivably honey. Without refrigeration, milk sours quickly and can
cause illness. I am convinced that the images of serpents were often
placed on vessels to protect the contents, especially milk, from souring
and causing sickness. In the world of symbology, as is abundantly
clear from texts and objects, the serpent is the quintessential guardian.
As Edward Topsell stated in 1658, in his The History of the Serpent,
the serpents are “the watchful keepers of Treasures.”
What is the probable date of these two vessels? While pottery first
appears around 7000 BCE,234 these examples are clearly much later.
But how much later should we date them? The shape and decoration
of these objects implies some date in the Middle Bronze Age or Late
Bronze Age. We will need to study these vessels in terms of what can
be known from ceramic ethno-archaeology.235
We may now explore how and in what ways, if at all, these vessels
are similar to ones already dated. The ceramic jars are dissimilar to
the imported ware from Egypt, Mycenae,236 Minoa, and Cyprus found
in ancient Palestine.237 They are also unlike the decorated Philistine
pottery. The latter, in contrast, are sophisticated.238 The objects remind
me of a jar in the Moshe Dayan Collection.239 This “chocolate-on-
white” jar, with creamy white burnished slip, was “found in Jericho;” it is
dated between 1700 and 1400 BCE. The Moshe Dayan jar may be
significant for comparison with the two newly found vessels, since it is
claimed that each was discovered in a cave northwest of Jericho.
The excellent state of preservation of each vessel reveals that they
were found in tombs or perhaps sealed caves. Among the ceramic
juglets found by K. Kenyon in tombs at Jericho, the closest parallel to
either of these two vessels seems to be a piriform juglet with one
shoulder handle and a long neck.240 Neither vessel is to be confused
with the Middle Bronze Age single-handled cylindrical juglets,241 the
shoulder-handled juglets, or the piriform juglets found in the Jericho
tombs. The data for comparison from Jericho need to be evaluated in
light of the fact that while many examples of ceramic ware from the
Middle Bronze Age were recovered, no examples exist from the Late
Bronze Age. The city had ceased to exist by that time. By the Early
Bronze and Middle Bronze Ages, Jericho was no longer an urban
center. Thus, the jars buried to the north and northwest of Tel es-
Sultan, where Kenyon found them, represent the life of nomads.242
Both jars now introduced were produced on a wheel. Both vessels
are noticeably different; yet, within pottery typology, they represent a
similar type. Both, especially the second vessel with the typical tilted
look, seem to be examples of the wheel-made Base Ring Jug called a
bilbil. The origin and meaning of the name bilbil are not clear. It may be
onomatopoeic to denote the sound made when liquid was poured from
it: bl, bl (Yadin’s suggestion).243 The name could also derive from the
Hebrew and Arabic word bulbul that denotes a type of thrush-like
songbird (J. Seger’s speculation).244 The latter explanation may be
denoted by the long neck of the second vessel, and such a bird might
be depicted on the first one.
Rather than Cypriot imports,245 the two vessels introduced here
seem to be examples of the well-known painted ware of Canaan that is
a local imitation of the Cypriot imports of Base Ring Ware Bilbils.
Compare, for example, how they seem to be modeled after the
imported Cypriot jug found at Dan that dates from the Late Bronze Age
II.246 The period for the two vessels thus appears to be the Late
Bronze Age or 1550–1200 BCE. The ascertained time of composition
also coincides with the final revival in the declining urban culture in
Canaan.
Perhaps more can be speculated at this initial stage of research on
the two vessels. The first jar appears to be an example of the local
Canaanite ware. It is cruder and heavier like the local ware from the
end of Late Bronze Age Palestine. The second jar is a classic example
of refined Bilbil Ware made locally in Canaan. As W. G. Dever states,
“The local wares, while rather poorly made, now feature relatively
common painted decoration, with both geometric and naturalistic and
animal motifs (e.g., a pair of ibexes and the sacred tree; a palm tree
and panel).”247 To Dever’s list of images we seem now able to add
ophidian iconography. These comments are only provisional and
prolegomenous to an intensive examination by experts in ceramic
ethno-archaeology.
Can we find links between the artwork and datable objects from
Palestine? The crude drawing on the first vessel shows an animal with
four legs, two horns, a beard, and a tail. The artwork is reminiscent of
the bronze bull statuette found in or near Samaria (ASOJS 3 941).248 It
dates from the early twelfth century BCE. Both the clay drawing and the
bronze statuette show an animal with horns and legs similarly
fashioned. The depiction of each animal has the legs excessively long
and the horns curving gently inward.249 The ceramic vessel, however,
appears to be older. Perhaps one can surmise that both reflect, in
differing ways and on different substances, the late Canaanite stylistic
tradition. The combination of reality and stylized features appears to
link these two works of art.
Figure 33. Clay Jar with Serpents. Middle Bronze. Courtesy of the Israel Museum.

Thus, both of these vessels seem to be Canaanite jars. They are

probably luxury items made by Canaanite potters and artists. Most
important, they provide significant new data for assessing the
veneration of the serpent by Canaanites, ostensibly near Jericho,
before the “Conquest.”
The date (1550–1200 BCE) and alleged provenance (near Jericho)
of both vessels seem especially significant. At the end of the thirteenth
century, Canaanite culture was determined by four momentous events.
The Hittite empire to the north collapsed, Egypt’s control of Canaan
was weakened, the “Sea Peoples” began infiltrating from the West,
and the Israelite tribes probably began incursions from the East.250
Perhaps there were also local revolts and disruptions; we have
previously surmised that these events may have been accompanied
by, and even aided by, earthquakes.
This research has been informed by a study of the vast amount of
vessels with serpents on the rim or handles in museums, antiquities
dealers, and private collections. One vessel is so special for this study
that I will conclude with it.
This “chocolate on white ware” ceramic serpent vessel is one of the
most elegant ever found in ancient Palestine; unfortunately, its precise
provenance is unknown.251 The 32-centimeter red-clay vessel is late
Canaanite (Middle Bronze Age) and dates from the middle of the
second millennium BCE. As indicated previously, the zenith of pottery-
making in ancient Canaanite culture corresponded with the time of this
object.
The serpent was certainly a popular “decoration” on Canaanite
vessels. They are rarely so ornately depicted as in the present
example; here they are realistic and obviously snakes. They appear to
curl upward as if moving. The bodies are punctuated by tiny holes to
signify skin (as in most examples). The eyes are detailed, and again it
is wise to recall that usually the eyes receive the attention of the
ancient artist or worker. On other vessels the snakes are merely
appliqued round pieces of clay without any indications of a mouth,
eyes, or scales. It would be counterintuitive to imagine that such
snakes are only decorations.
What did the two serpents symbolize to the maker of this vessel
and to those who used it? The placing of the serpents is crucial. One
could imagine that the owner wanted the serpents to obtain a drink of
water or milk. That makes sense in a serpent cult civilization as in
ancient Canaan. But they could be placed there to protect and guard
the contents, probably wine, milk, or water. Clearly, the serpents add to
the beauty of the vessel, so beauty and aesthetics also come into play
as we ponder serpent iconography.

ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE OF THE INFLUENCE OF

GRECO-ROMAN OPHIDIAN ICONOGRAPHY IN ANCIENT
PALESTINE: THE JEWELRY OF POMPEII AND
JERUSALEM

Anguine jewelry has been found in the ruins of Pompeii. As is well

known, this city south of Rome was destroyed in 79 CE when the
volcano Vesuvius erupted. Here are the words of Pliny the Younger,
who witnessed the horrifying event:

Ashes were already falling, not as yet very thickly. I looked round: a dense black cloud was
coming up behind us, spreading over the earth like a flood. … We had scarcely sat down to
rest when darkness fell, not the dark of a moonless or cloudy night, but as if the lamp had
been put out in a closed room. You could hear the shrieks of women, the wailing of infants, the
shouting of men; some were calling their parents, others their children or their wives, trying to
recognize them by their voices. … Many besought the aid of the gods, but still more imagined
there were no gods left, and that the universe was plunged into eternal darkness for
evermore.252
 Pliny was with his mother on a high hill north of Pompeii and
Vesuvius; he was visiting his uncle, Pliny the Elder. The latter’s
inquisitive nature not only provides us with valuable information about
ancient society, including the Essenes who lived at Qumran; it also led
to his death on the shores west of Pompeii as he was seeking to
explore the events of 79 CE.

Figure 34. Pompeii. Serpent jewelry. Naples Antiquities Museum. I thank the Soprintendenza
Archeologica delle Provincie di Napoli e Caserta and Professor Marcello del Verme for
assistance and permission to publish this photograph. JHC

At least four beautiful anguine bracelets have been recovered from

the debris in Pompeii. The elegant gold bracelets shown in Figs. 34
and 35 perhaps were crafted within the one hundred years that
preceded 79 CE.253
Note the detail of the serpents. The eyes are clearly marked,
sometimes with a jewel. The head and skin are detailed. These are not
stylized serpents; these are snakes. The gold jewelry bracelets from
Pompeii and the gold ring from Alexandria (perhaps) are impressive
and draw one’s attention and admiration. They were crafted and
intended to be displayed prominently.
There is ample evidence that wealthy women wanted to be seen
with anguine jewelry. Surely, something positive was symbolized by
these works of art. It is clear that serpents were admired, even
worshipped, at Pompeii. More can be surmised about the symbol of
the serpent among the residents at Pompeii.
At Pompeii the Romans apparently worshipped various gods
through Agathadaimon (the good serpent or demon). This god of
goodness is often represented on gems with the sacred cista (the box
in which mysteries were kept) and as a serpent or a human-bird figure
with serpents as feet (anguipedes). Agathadaimon was revered in
Pompeii and openly. This is certain because a painting of this serpent
can still be seen in the House of the Vettii. In this room, the occupants
of the house gathered in a sacred place to devote themselves to the
household gods (the Lares).

Figure 35. Pompeii. Gold Jewelry; reference no. 1946,7–2,2 (transparency number
PS208051). British Museum Ring no. 950. Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum.

Gold anguine symbols do not appear only on jewelry. They appear

also as serpents. At Herculaneum, in the Palaestra, a massive bronze
serpent with five heads spewed water into the swimming pool.254 This
serpent image is unrealistic, but replicas of snakes are often strikingly
lifelike and realistic. One example was the pride and joy of Leo
Mildenberg. He published many of his serpent realia, including the
cornelian snake head attachment (third-second cent. BCE), bronze
snake with eight undulations (c. 1320–1200 BCE), gray granite cobra
goddess (Greco-Roman), and bronze snake with five undulations (first-
second cent. CE). 255 As far as I know, he never published his gold
snake, which, as he reported to me, was found in southern Italy and
dates from the Roman Period.256
Evidence of the popularity of anguine jewelry is present not only in
the West, in Pompeii, but also in the East, including Jerusalem.257 For
the Roman Period, there is a vast amount of evidence. I have seen
gold, silver, and bronze serpent armbands, earrings, and especially
bracelets. Because of their composition and the quality of their artwork
some of the jewelry belonged to the upper classes and others to the
poorer people.
Figure 38 displays four bronze bracelets and one bronze ring. All
are from the early Roman Period and were found in or near
Jerusalem.258 Like so many other illustrations, they appear here for the
first time. From left to right: the first and last bracelets show a stylized
serpent, the next has the two eyes of the serpent etched in an
enlarged manner. Because of the quality of the bronze work, it is likely
that these bracelets belonged to rather wealthy persons. The next to
last one is crude; the head of the snake, with the elongated tongue, is
merely wrapped around the bronze; this bracelet probably belonged to
one who was not wealthy. The ring below the bracelets is artistically
crafted; the mouths of the serpents are open and the eyes and heads
are professionally designed. More detail was poured into it than the
serpent ring found at Herculaneum.259

Figure 36. Pompeii. Agathadaimon. JHC

Figure 37. Leo Mildenberg and Author with Gold Snake Jewelry.

Figure 38. Four Bronze Bracelets and One Silver Ring. Early Roman Period. All from
Jerusalem or nearby. JHC Collection

Figure 39. Two Rings from Jerusalem and the Roman Period. The ring on the left is silver and
shown previously, the one on the right is bronze. The left serpent ring depicts the eyes and
mouths of the serpents. The one on the right is more stylized, but horizontal lines depict the
serpent’s skin. Most likely the head of the serpent was broken off. JHC Collection

The bronze earring in Fig. 40 shows a serpent with large eyes. It

dates from the Roman Period and was found in or near Jerusalem.260
Because of its quality, the work probably belonged to a wealthy
person. The jewelry or clasp shows dragons.

Figure 40. Left. Bronze Earring Showing Serpent with Large Eyes. Early Roman Period. From
in or near Jerusalem. JHC Collection
Figure 41. Right. Bronze Jewelry. Roman Period. Jerusalem. Probably a Persian dragon with
mouth, ears, and eyes. JHC Collection

Figure 42. Bronze Upraised Serpent. JHC Collection

Figure 42 is an anguine symbol found in the environs of Jerusalem,

probably dating from the Roman Period. It is an upright bronze
serpent. Perhaps it was once part of wooden furniture.
The previous discussion can only represent some selected
examples of the abundance of serpent jewelry from antiquity. It is clear
that the serpent—perhaps more than any other animal—was chosen
to adorn jewelry and make wearers more attractive.261 Note the
following table of gold jewelry with serpents; all date from between 100
BCE and 100 CE(the date for the final editing of the Fourth Gospel,
without the latter addition of 7:53–8:11; also see the additions in
Appendix III):262
Table 1. A Selection of Roman Era Gold Jewelry with Serpents
263, 264, 265, 266, 267

One should also recall the earlier discussion and picture of the
Greek-Scythian gold serpent goddess image that was made for the
forehead of a horse (fourth cent. BCE).268

ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE OF ROMAN GLASS AND

OPHIDIAN ICONOGRAPHY

During the Hellenistic Period, glass flasks, beakers, and goblets

appeared with monochrome threads. This artwork is categorized as
“snake-thread” decoration. The glass is applied to the outside of the
vessel. The snakethread ornamentation winds like a serpent and often
has slanting indentations. Occasionally, these snake-threads are
strikingly reminiscent of serpents clearly applied to other vessels.269 It
seems that the technique of decorating glass with snake-thread
designs originated sometime in the early first century BCE or CE in the
eastern area of the Mediterranean.270 Most of the examples date from
the second or third centuries CE.271 Although fragments of snake-
thread glass were found at Dura-Europos,272 the provenance of a
piece is frequently unknown.273
 Decoration of another type, which is also evocative of serpents,
appears on glassware. It is glass with bifurcated ribs, or pinched
ribbed glass (not pinched thread glassware).274 The parison
(preliminary shape) of the vessel is pinched during the earliest stages
of blowing. This time the design on the glass is not always easy to
distinguish from the caduceus or two serpents that rise, sometimes
around a central rod, and almost always face each other.275 Some of
the glass with bifurcated ribs clearly was made in the glass factory at
Jalame,276 a northeast foothill of Mount Carmel,277 during the first
centuries of the Common Era. Examples were found at Dura-
Europos.278 The snake-thread and the pinched-rib decorations on
Roman glass are intended to make the glass more attractive.
While these markings reflect knowledge of serpents and perhaps of
ophidian iconography, they must not be interpreted as an example of
serpent symbolism. Although the “snake-thread” decorations are mere
ornamentations, we should allow for the possibility that serpents
appeared on glass, yet this assumption is denied in recent
publications. We should be open to the possibility that serpents were
depicted on glass, if only ideally or impressionistically. We have seen
that serpent iconography was ubiquitous in the Hellenistic Period.
Giants were depicted having anguipedes. Gods and goddesses—
especially Apollo, Asclepius, Hygieia, and Isis—appeared as serpents.
Actors, poets, and soldiers were hailed as heroic because of the
presence of a serpent on a monument.279
Romans originally were not fond of glassware, but, beginning with
the new imperial iconography established during the reign of Augustus
(37 BCE–14 CE) and the development of slave trade routes, glass
became popular in the West as it had been formerly in the East.
Glassblowing was discovered (or invented) in the East (Syria,
including Judaea), and many of these craftsmen may have migrated to
Italy. By the late first century BCE, Horace could refer to a spring on his
villa as “more sparkling than glass” (splendidior vitro).280
Figure 43. Glass Bottle with Serpent Appliqué. Serpents are upraised and eyes are prominent.
First century BCE. From Hizma, northeast of Jerusalem. JHC Collection

Now I will introduce a sensational discovery; it will become certain

that serpents were depicted on glass (see Fig. 43).281 This glass was
found allegedly at Hizma, which is less than 8 kilometers northeast of
Jerusalem.282 Two serpents are clearly depicted.283 This decoration is
quite unlike the ornamentations that appear on the necks of beakers or
jugs.284 The serpents are appliquéd glass. While a somewhat similar
example is preserved in the Israel Museum,285 on the present piece of
glass two serpents are indisputably depicted. Their heads are
obviously those of a serpent; the eye is noticeably present, and the
skin is depicted by lines. Both serpents are upright, as if they are
aroused cobras. One is reminded of the uraeus and the imagery of
Numbers 21 and John 3:14.

ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE FOR “PAGAN” CULTS

EMPLOYING SERPENT SYMBOLOGY

An Asclepian Cult in Jerusalem?

We can once again return to the search for ophidian objects in and
near Jerusalem. It is becoming clear that there was a temple to
Asclepius in Bethesda (Bethzatha) that is just inside Jerusalem and
north of the Sheep’s Gate (Stephen’s Gate, Lion’s Gate). There
probably also was an Asklepieion with healing baths and a room for
incubation.286 Stones from a temple to Asclepius have been
uncovered near the Church of Saint Anne (surely, as Saladin knew,
one of the masterpieces of the Crusader Period). To the northeast of it
are vaulted rooms, which most likely had columns (stoa as suggested
by Jn 5), and a private pool. This pool is neither a cistern nor a mikveh
(ritual cleansing bath). Stratigraphy, coins, and pottery indicate that
these installations were in place during the time of Aelia Capitolina,
Hadrian’s name for the city that replaced Jerusalem, or after 135/36
CE. It is probable that the Asclepian cult was active here before 132
and after 70 CE. There were healing groups congregated there for
centuries before the destruction of 70 CE, and these would not threaten
or be threatened by the sanctity of the Temple and the power of the
Sadducees.
The stratification is dated by coins and sherds. The area was
occupied prior to 135/36 CE. The best evidence for the presence of a
cult of Asclepius comes from the post-135/36 period, but there is
reason to think that the healing cult of this god goes back to an earlier
period. There were healing cults in this area of Jerusalem long before
70 CE.
After 135/36 there were healing pools (not mikvaoth or baths) in the
northeast section of the excavated area. The small pools also had
vaulted ceilings that were most likely used for incubation and the
dreams that Asclepius was alleged to have given to his devotees who
needed healing. Although the excavations at Bethesda were from
1882 to 1964, with long periods of interruptions, I have been told by
those involved in preparing future excavations that no reports have
been published. I shall thus turn to some realia that indicate Bethesda
had an Asklepieion.
Six realia found at Bethesda are important for understanding
ophidian symbolism related to the Asklepieion.287 First, a piece of
marble contains the remains of a serpent in relief (catalogue M.S.A. 3).
The fragment is 13.7 centimeters at the base, 11.1 centimeters high,
and 4.1 centimeters thick. It was found west of the Byzantine Church
in a channel that connects the north and south pools.288 At the left are
remains of two columns. To the right of them is a serpent; it is in high
relief extending above the marble as much as 1.5 centimeters. The
serpent is raised and curled, perhaps to indicate power and the
dynamism of life. The serpent’s scales are denoted by scale-like
carvings.
 Second, a lamp was recovered near the Asklepieion (PB0613). In
the center of the lamp is shown an enthroned Asclepius with his right
hand on the head of a dog. The left side of the lamp is worn away, but
one can see what appears to be a raised left hand that may have held
a staff. If a serpent was once depicted on the staff, there is no longer a
trace of it. This object may also be a votive offering.
Third, a marble fragment was found northeast of the Church of
Saint Anne (M.S.A. 4). It is an ex-voto offering that is 14.7 centimeters
wide, 13 centimeters high, and 4.7 centimeters thick. The marble
shows that the carving was ornate and under the influence of the
Hellenistic style. A seashell is shown below a triangular carving. Of
special importance are the remains of a sheaf of wheat (perhaps) that
may have been carved to celebrate harvest or spring. Kore or
Persephone both come to mind. The object dates from the Roman
Period, but cannot be dated precisely until we know the date of the
stratum in which it was recovered.
Fourth, another ex-voto object was discovered; it is also related to
the Asklepieion. The marble fragment is 10 centimeters long, 5.4
centimeters wide, and 4.8 centimeters high. The artist expertly
depicted a foot with five toes within a sandal with straps. The object is
clearly Roman, but its exact date is unknown. Perhaps someone left
this object to thank Asclepius for healing his foot.
Fifth, a second ex-voto foot was recovered near or within the
Asklepieion (M.S.A. 7). The marble is 13.3 centimeters high, 14.5
centimeters wide, and the left side is broken diagonally. These ex-voto
feet seem to indicate that a devotee wanted to thank the god for
healing his feet.
Sixth, a piece of marble was discovered not far from the
Asklepieion (M.S.A. 5). It is 13.2 centimeters high, 11.7 centimeters
wide, and 4.0 to 1.6 centimeters thick from top to bottom. The object
seems to depict a nude woman. Her hair is pulled back in a bun, as
she prepares for her time in a healing bath. She may be moving her
right hand to remove her garment before entering the healing bath.
Taking off clothes was a ritual that could symbolize the removal of
impurities. The healing baths are shaped like an “L” so that one inside
removing clothes would not been seen by others outside waiting their
turn. Above her to the right is shown a hand descending. As in so
many other ancient works of art, the hand symbolizes the presence of
a god. There is no reason to suggest any god but Asclepius.
We now may introduce a magnificent example of ophidian
iconography that was found over one hundred years ago by C.
Clermont-Ganneau. He announced the discovery, which he called the
“Vase of Bethzatha,” in a letter dated May 31, 1874.289 The object was
found during excavations of caves beneath the via dolorosa and north
of the Temple Mount.290 Most likely the vase was discarded in a refuse
dump along with other unwanted items.291 The terra-cotta vase was
found in pieces, but it was “so nearly complete” that it was “possible to
reconstruct it by gumming the pieces together.”292 The pottery is gray
and 36 centimeters high. It sits on a low foot. The maximum
circumference is 1 meter. Here are selections from Clermont-
Ganneau’s description (italics are mine):

It is ornamented by two handles, each formed of a double tress elegantly twisted. On the
upper part of each handle is cut a small rectangular cavity, towards which two large serpents
appear to be turning as if to drink. They are in relief, symmetrically disposed, and climbing
along the sides of the vessel; their tails are lost in the base of the handles. Immediately below
each handle is sculptured in relief a Gorgon’s head.
Further, close to either handle is twice impressed a kind of small medallion, representing a
male figure, nude, upright, the left arm raised and leaning on a long lance or thyrsus; the right
arm extended and pointed to the ground. The right hand appears to hold an indistinct object
over another also indistinct placed upon the ground.
The external moldings of this little figure, of which I shall speak presently, are repeated six
times on one vase.
At nearly equal distances from the two handles, and on each side of the vase, is repeated
twice a second molded medallion of larger dimensions, representing a nude Mercury, whose
body is seen in full, the head turned to the left. He has the petasus, and has his tunic tied
across the breast and thrown behind him; he holds the caduceus in his left hand, and raises
with his right an object which seems to be a purse—the frequent attribute of the Hermes of
antiquity.
In the circle which surrounds him are four objects, which appear to be meant for fir-
cones.293 The medallion is encircled by a small border, formed by means of a molded
repetition of six points arranged in a circle round a seventh central point. This ornament is
reproduced in profusion on the rest of the vase. …
I must lastly mention, in concluding this segment of the vase, a large leaf, with its branches
in high relief, stamped beside one of the serpents. …
This great vase, so rich in ornamentation, is nevertheless executed with a certain amount
of negligence. Its form is elegant, but it wants symmetry and is not perpendicular; the handles
are put on awkwardly; and the details of the moldings show carelessness. All round it may be
seen the marks of the fingers which repaired the accidents produced in removing the mould.
The arrangement of the figures and the symbols seems done by chance and without rigorous
method. Nevertheless, such as it is, this vessel, with all its imperfections, is most remarkable
from an artistic point of view.
The profuseness in detail and the carelessness in execution, lead me to think that it is a
kind of specimen, the essay of some artist wishing to make a model, which he might
subsequently reproduce with greater care, perhaps in metal.294

Two other ceramic fragments were found near this vase. They seem to
have been made in the same workshop as the Vase of Bethzatha. A
Gorgon mask was detected and a “little male figure leaning on a
spear” that was “probably obtained from the same mould.”295 There is
no reason to doubt that these objects and the vase indicate a local
workshop.
Given what we now know about the wealth and grandeur of
Jerusalem before 70 CE, it seems that the “Bethzatha Vase” may
antedate 70. It dates from sometime between 63 CE and 325 CE; it is
surely closer to the earlier date than the latter. It was conceivably
made long before 135/36 CE when Jerusalem became Aelia Capitolina.
Clermont-Ganneau was convinced that it belonged to Aelia
Capitolina.296 The object has never received a proper publication and
scholarly assessment.297 In fact, most scholars do not know about this
object, the “Bethzatha Vase,” that is now stored in London at the
Palestine Exploration Fund building.298
The serpents on this vase face each other at the top of the rim, just
above where the handle joins the body of the vase. The heads are
rounded and triangular; thus, they are reminiscent of vipers or cobras.
Two small circles indicate the eyes and the skin is depicted by tiny
indentations and linear strokes. Each serpent seems to have four
curves, perhaps to symbolize its dynamism and elusiveness.
Clermont-Ganneau thought that “the four serpents which are
proceeding to drink … the drops which have escaped from the
simpulum,299 appear to represent the genii loci, and remind me of the
serpentine form of the ‘AyaBoSdiLKov, to which in so many ancient
monuments libations are offered.”300 It is not clear that the serpents
are about to drink. They are also headed to the rim of the vase and
may have signified the powers that protect the contents of vessels.
The idea that serpents on vessels indicate that they are seeking
water was articulated not only by Clermont-Ganneau, but also by
Kenyon and Joines. It is possible that the “water” was a symbol of
votive offering for the serpent. The importance of water in the
Asclepian cult is clarified by Festus, who wrote that a temple was built
on an island in the Tiber by Rome for Asclepius “because sick people
are aided by physicians particularly through water [a medicis aqua
maxime sustententur].” 301
I am persuaded, however, that the primary symbolic meaning of the
ophidian iconography is protection. Indeed, one should continue
reading Festus, who states in the next sentence that “the serpent is
the guardian of this temple because it is a most vigilant beast and this
faculty is especially appropriate in safeguarding the health of invalids.”
Note, furthermore, that in antiquity in the Levant and in Greece and
Rome the serpent, often as a dragon, symbolizes the one who guards
the water that comes out of the earth or the treasure that the human
desires. This is clear from abundant sources, for example, from the
story in the Hymn of the Pearl in which a large serpent guards the
pearl, from a quotation by Artemidorus (“The serpent … lies on guard
over treasures”),302 and from another statement by Festus (“serpents
… lying near treasures to guard [thesauris custodiae] them”).303 It is
enlightening to read that E. J. Edelstein and L. Edelstein concluded
their authoritative and thorough study of the Asclepian cult with the
following words:

Figure 44. Bethzatha Vase with Many Serpents. Bethzatha Asklepieion. Jerusalem. Early
Roman Period. Courtesy of Dr. R. L. Chapman III and the Palestine Exploration Fund. AP
4149. JHC
To determine the meaning of the serpent in connection with Asclepius is very difficult. That the
snake indicated the rejuvenation which the god perfected, or his shrewdness, or his medical
knowledge cannot be denied entirely. But it seems more plausible that the animal symbolized
the mildness and goodness of Asclepius, his guardianship over men.304

Thus, the serpents were placed on the vase probably not to indicate
that they needed a drink of water or were seeking water. They were
placed there—I am persuaded—to symbolize their protection of the
liquid that is vital for human life. The vessel, moreover, may have
contained wine. The serpents would thus protect it from turning bad.
Clermont-Ganneau stated that his letter would be accompanied by
“two photographs.”305 No photographs appear in the publication of his
announcement of this monumental discovery, but see the photography
supplied in my illustrations.
It is conceivable that the object was associated with the Asclepian
cult that was located just east of where it was discovered—that is,
inside Stephen’s Gate to the north and where the author of the Gospel
of John places the five-porticoed Bethzatha or Bethesda (Jn 5:1–2).
There is abundant evidence that Bethzatha was a popular site for
healing in the Roman Period.306 An Asclepian cult, not necessarily an
Asklepieion with sleeping quarters, may have been located at the
pools of Bethzatha.
If the female figure on the vase is Hygieia, then surely the vase is
most likely related to the Jerusalem shrine of Asclepius and Hygieia.
One way to advance this argument would be to demonstrate that the
woman depicted on the vase should be identified as Hygieia. The
iconography favors this possibility. The woman is not nude like a
goddess; she is draped like a human or demigoddess.307 She seems
to be holding in her left hand a long ceremonial staff308 or torch
(perhaps to give light to the underworld or to symbolize the knowledge
of healing).309 In her right hand, which points to the ground,310 is a
staff that could be the one associated with her father, Asclepius.311
The staff denotes, inter alia, support for the weak,312 and the attention
necessary for the physician.313 Note how Ovid has Asclepius state:
“Look upon this serpent which twines about my staff.”314 I know of no
other Asclepian cult in or near Jerusalem except the one at Bethzatha
(Bethesda), and the “Vase of Bethzatha” was discovered near the two
pools of Bethzatha.
Those who wish to claim that such a hypothesis cannot be proved
should note that not one “of the Asclepius statues that are extant can
be identified with certainty as one of the sacred cult statues of the
god.”315 As scientists, we are not governed by claims of proof or the
criterion of certainty. We should strive to obtain the closest
approximation to the probable or conceivable, and the coins minted in
Jerusalem showing Hygieia help ground the conclusion that this vase
was associated with the cult of Asclepius and Hygieia that was in
Jerusalem, most likely at Bethzatha.
Clermont-Ganneau concluded his assessment of this vase with
these words: “The vase, which I propose to call the Vase of Bethzatha,
remains one of the most precious archaeological objects that
Jerusalem has yet produced; and I do not doubt that the interest it will
excite among savants will equal the curiosity that it will excite among
the public.”316
Unfortunately, the object was never published. Its description was
hidden in Clermont-Ganneau’s words, and the object itself is not on
public display. One might consider this object to be a fake, but it was
discovered by Clermont-Ganneau and, being retrieved in fragments,
was not planted falsely.

Figure 45. Glass Serpent. Courtesy of the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Museum,
Jerusalem. JHC

Why was this object never accurately documented? Only now—

over a century later—is the “Vase of Bethzatha” mentioned in
something more than a letter or an article about explorations of the
Holy Land by the English.317 Now, we may publish a photograph and
preliminary analysis of this intriguing, if rather unattractive anguine
object.318
A ceramic fragment with an image of a serpent was discovered in
Jerusalem or nearby.319 It probably dates from the early Roman
period. Human faces (only five remain) and a large serpent are
appliqued to the outside walls of a vessel. The skin of the serpent is
marked by artistic indentations in the clay, and notably, the serpent’s
mouth is opened wide. Did this feature indicate that the serpent was
the symbol of wisdom? This could be the meaning intended by the
author or supplied by some who saw it. Numerous legends about
serpents whispering insights into the ears of kings and gods are known
from antiquity (as we learned in earlier chapters). Most likely the
fragment is the remains of a votive offering; perhaps it was part of a
vessel used in Jerusalem’s Asklepieion. Does its lack of sophistication
and almost crudeness help us with the Bethzatha Vase that is
strikingly unattractive and may have been a model for a vessel
perhaps fashioned in bronze? It is a pity that the Bethzatha Vase and
the fragment were not recovered from a controlled archaeological
excavation.
The anguine object in Fig. 45 is housed in the Studium Biblicum
Franciscanum (SBF) Museum, Jerusalem.320 It is made of glass and is
7.4 centimeters long, 3.7 centimeters wide, and. 4 centimeter thick.
The glass is translucent and green, but black dots signify eyes and
skin; the dots are slightly larger for the eyes. I would judge this glass
ophidian object to date from the Roman Period. Its high quality points
to the early Roman Period. It is similar to numerous glass objects and
glassware that clearly antedate 70 CE. Most ancient glass serpents
from the area of Jerusalem are dated to the first centuries BCE or CE.321

Figure 46. Serpents. Courtesy of the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Museum, Jerusalem.
JHC

The eyes and skin are impressively marked. The pointed nose is
shaped by an area of the glass that is slightly raised. The artistically
shaped head is raised 1.4 centimeters above the level for the body.
The serpent’s body is straight until midway when it is coiled up into
three concentric circles.
This ophidian object is unique; I have not seen anything to
compare with it. Its beauty and the artisan’s skill may suggest that the
serpent served in some cultic capacity. The raised head might
symbolize, like the uraeus, divinity and power. The attractive
translucent glass could evoke thoughts about beauty, health,
happiness, and rejuvenation. The coiled and concentric body might
represent the unity of time and cosmos; it would thus have the
symbolic meaning associated with the Ouroboros.
The two serpents, and the two small uraei, shown in Fig. 46 are
also housed in the SBF Museum. The small bronze serpent is 9.2
centimeters long and now dark green. The object was purchased from
an antiquities dealer in the Old City of Jerusalem, and thus the site in
which it was discovered cannot be examined to ascertain its date. It
can be dated only by analogy and a study of the object itself. The
glass has circular holes that indicate skin. I would date it to the Roman
Period, primarily because of the quality of the glass and workmanship.
The small serpent is elongated and straight, although a curve
appears just before the triangular head. Eyes are indicated by clear
circles cut into the bronze. Originally there was a piece of glass in
each of the eleven holes, but only one round piece of glass (rather
clear) remains in place. It is in the second hole from the left.
No hole in the object suggests that the serpent was intended to be
worn. It may have been a cultic object because of its intricate details
and fine design. The elongation could denote unity, and the triangular
head a poisonous serpent that might denote good and evil, as well as
life and death. Again, it is important to recall the multivalent nature of
serpent symbolism and the power of the serpent to denote both-and
(double entendre).
The larger serpent is composed of silver; it is 26 centimeters long
(the tail may be broken off). It is copper-colored; in places it is dark.
Since the object was also purchased, we cannot rely on what a
Bedouin or a dealer might claim, even if they were being as honest as
training and experience might allow. The ophidian object must be
dated by analogy. I would compare it with the copper and gilded
serpent found at Timna’. They are similarly constructed; that is, they
depict serpents crawling and are relatively long. It is impossible to date
the object; it might date as early as the Late Bronze Age (1550–1200
BCE) or as late as the Roman Period.

The serpent is long; the five curves most likely were crafted to
indicate that it is moving. The skin is elegantly denoted with fine
markings. The eyes and mouth are barely visible. The head is raised.
6 centimeter above the level of the body.
This serpent also may have been a cultic object because of its
elegance and fine workmanship. It is similar to the copper serpent with
gilding that was found at Timna’ in a cultic context. The curves would
evoke thoughts about dynamism and speed, as well as the elusive and
mysterious quality of the serpent.
It is conceivable that these anguine objects are associated with
Bethzatha because of their presence in the SBF Museum just to the
west of it. One must not forget, however, that these realia were
purchased and placed in the museum. What can be known about
Bethzatha? Votive offerings have been found there, as indicated
earlier, and they seem associated with an Asklepieion.

Ophidian Cults in Ancient Palestine: The Meaning of the

Serpent Images

In her article entitled “The Bronze Serpent in the Israelite Cult,” Karen
R. Joines explained the meaning of the images as follows: “Apparently,
the answer is to be found in its associations with other cultic emblems,
most notably with sex and sexual organs, the bull, water, and the
dove.”322 This answer is helpful and a good beginning, but ophidian
symbolism is much more complex and variegated. Far more
representative is Joines’ conclusion that the “association of the serpent
with water accentuates the intermingling of the serpent symbol with the
fertility of the earth, for this reptile was often observed in or near water,
the means of life for both animals and vegetation.”323 As we have
seen, the serpent symbolized far more than what Joines has
suggested.
Archaeological realia show the serpents appearing alone, in pairs,
and in various numbers. Serpents are often found iconographically
paired with scorpions, bulls, lions, and doves. The scorpion added to
the threatening bite of the serpent and may have increased its
chthonic symbolism as a source of death as well as life. The bull
strengthened the ability of the serpent to symbolize power, protection,
and divinity. The lion increased the royal and divine symbolic
dimensions of the serpent. The image of the dove with ophidian
symbolism added to the serpent’s ability to symbolize a transcendence
from the earth, an ascension into the heavens where Wisdom seems
to dwell, and perhaps the source of new and rejuvenated life. Most
likely each, especially the dove,324 removed the negative symbolic
dimension of the serpent and increased its friendliness to humans.
Thus, the meanings of ophidian symbolism in the Land, which is
decidedly inferior in quality to that found in Egypt to the south and in
what is now Turkey to the north,325 are usually positive and clearly
multivalent. Perhaps one of the attractive aspects of ophidian
symbolism is its ability to denote and evoke a wide range of possible
meanings.
The following categories seem to capture the meaning probably
intended by one who used a serpent symbol and the additional
meanings supplied by later observers. The categories clearly overlap,
and more than one meaning was most likely intended by an author
and surely by any observer.
The serpent is often found associated with the cult, and the
iconography is often discovered in a stratum linked with the cult.
Joines concludes that “the cultic significance of the serpent in the
Ancient Near East, whether the symbol be of bronze or pottery, from a
sanctuary or a tomb, was that of fertility and the return of life.”326 This
conclusion is not necessarily wrong, but it is rather bold and tends to
impose too much systematization and harmonization on the
archaeological evidence of ophidian symbolism in the Land. In some
sites and tells this might be warranted as the primary meaning in some
strata, but not all, and surely not in all locations. As we have seen, the
archaeological evidence is vast and variegated.
At Gezer the serpent from the Late Bronze Age stratum was
discovered in the high place.327 It is thus probably linked with some
positive meaning in the cult.
The two serpents found at Hazor in the “holy of holies” in the
temple of Area H clearly denoted some positive symbolism. The silver-
plated bronze cult stand,328 which shows two serpents rising on each
side of a woman, probably a serpent goddess, most likely denoted
fertility and fruitfulness, along with some dimensions of sexuality. If it
was held in ceremonial processions or in cultic celebrations, its
symbolic significance would be increased.
The evidence for the cultic dimension of the serpent increases in
the Late Bronze Age. Indicative of the increase of the significance of
ophidian imagery are the over twenty-seven examples of serpent
objects or iconography found at Beth Shan.329 The serpent symbolism
denoted some positive meaning because of its connection with the
cult.330
The serpent symbolism on the Beth Shan pottery cult stand, now
displayed in the Israel Museum and dated to the eleventh century BCE
or Iron Age I, is impressive. The stand is attractive, but it is far less
artistically crafted than vessels in contiguous countries.331 The
serpents are well designed, and the dots for their skin are represented
by circular depressions in the clay. The mouth of the serpent is open
and eyes are depicted, but no forked tongue is shown. The image is
clearly a positive one, and probably more than one meaning was
intended by the author; additional positive meanings could have been
perceived by worshippers. Certainly, we need to imagine that they
added to the meaning intended by the author.
It is good to return to the symbolic meaning of serpents and doves,
so richly represented at Beth Shan. In such a context, the serpent
symbolized the chthonic world, and rejuvenation, as well as fertility.
Along with the dove, the serpent most likely symbolized the return of
vegetation in the spring.
This interpretation is reinforced by Rowe’s suggestion that the
rectangular shrine houses and cylindrical serpent cult vessels, which
must not be confused with cylindrical incense burners that are devoid
of serpent iconography,332 were, in fact, like the classical writers’
“Gardens of Adonis.”333 That is, the vessels were filled with rich soil
into which seeds from flowers, wheat, or special vegetables were
wisely arranged. Then, with the proper watering and exposure to the
sun, the plants would spring to life; but with an inadequate root system
they would also wither relatively rapidly. Thus, the vessels with
ophidian iconography would signify the cycle between life and death.
Serpents with doves herald spring according to passages in the Song
of Songs and Jeremiah.334 Serpents with doves seem to symbolize the
yearly cycle. Perhaps together they, through sympathetic magic, were
imagined to stimulate or awaken fresh growth in the earth and the
return of spring.335 Moreover, under the possible influence of Assyrian
and Babylonian myths,336 the doves might symbolize the allegorical
rebirth of Astoreth (the dove), and Tammuz (the serpent) from the
chthonic world.337 The significance of the dove in the aperture and
serpents heading there enhance a fertility (though not a Freudian)
interpretation. Finally, the remains of serpents with breasts and
sometimes with a cup beneath to catch milk indicate that there was a
goddess at Beth Shan who was perceived as a serpent.338
The apertures could also signify the female womb and, for some,
the serpent the lingam; it is clear that the Beth Shan shrine house with
serpents, doves, and a lion shows a female’s mons veneris; moreover,
these ophidian realia were found alongside of a nude Ashtoreth with
exposed breasts.339 The practice seems to have been widespread and
continues much later into the Iron Age. Isaiah seems to have spoken
against this practice and its dependence on magic and allegiance to
the fertility cults.340
The circular dots that represented the serpent’s skin probably had
more than decorative meaning. They could have evoked in the mind of
some worshippers the pervasive meaning of serpent symbolism,
specifically the completeness of time and the unity of the cosmos,
even though this aspect of ophidian symbolism becomes explicit only
in the Hellenistic Period.
The Late Bronze Age Beth Shan pottery sherds that show a
serpent with female breasts and perhaps a bowl to catch lacteal fluid
are challenging and perhaps revealing. They seem to be unique to
Beth Shan and also constitute a coalescence of the cobra and female
figurines.341 These serpent symbols appear to be a Palestinian
adaptation of foreign, especially Egyptian, models. If these objects are
accurately assessed, then the imagery indicates that the serpent
sometimes represented the female principle. That is, the serpent
symbolized the life found in a mother’s milk.
In the Beth Shan Iron Age ophidian symbolism, depictions of the
serpent’s mouth as open and with impressive eyes but no forked
tongue indicate a positive meaning. Most likely more than one idea
was intended by the author, and numerous positive meanings were
certainly perceived by the worshippers. Surely, the deity worshipped is
intended, and the serpents indicate the power of the deity to provide
what worshippers needed, especially their own prosperity, health,
fertility, and good life, and similar prayers and desires for the land on
which they lived and the animals on it.
Perhaps roughly the same meaning should be applied to the Iron
Age I (1000–800 BCE) serpent symbol, found on pottery at Megiddo,
and connected with the shrine.342 Joines, following Albright,343 rightly
stresses that serpent symbolism does not necessarily denote or imply
a phallic meaning. As she states, the symbolism “merely sets out the
intimate connection between the goddess and the source of life.”344 In
many cases, especially at Beth Shan—and most obviously in the
Aphrodite sculpture from Roman Carmel—sexuality is implied, but
beauty or fertility, not the phallus or eroticism, seems to be the primary
meaning. This meaning seems warranted by the presentation of
Aphrodite as attractive rather than erotic and the association of the
gentle, not aroused, serpent with the body and not the mons veneris.
It is clear that the serpent usually represented a positive meaning.
Sometimes it symbolized a god or goddess. At other times, and
perhaps simultaneously, it signified a personified concept such as
power, divinity, life, beauty, or health. Conceivably, the serpent could
evoke a hypostasis of a god or goddess (especially in the Greek and
Roman world).
 It is not easy to discern the meaning of the serpent iconography at
Beth Shan in the mind of the artist. The potter may have wanted also
to denote wisdom, knowledge, and truth, since the mouth of the
serpent is open, eyes are depicted, and no forked tongue is evident.
The Late Bronze Age ophidian iconography added to the pottery
vessels was intended to signify some positive dimension of the
serpent. The symbolism appeals to the imagination because only the
serpent’s body is depicted. The deadly head was not illustrated
graphically. If the clay vessel contained cosmetics, the meaning could
be some form of sexual attractiveness, perhaps eroticism. If the large
ceramic jar contained water, wine, or milk, then the serpent could
symbolize the life-giving commodity, as well as the protector of its
freshness and taste.
Joines lists numerous examples of ophidian symbolism at Megiddo,
Beth Shemesh, Jericho, and Gideon. She opines that these are
examples of “the motif of the water-seeking serpent.” For example, she
mentions the serpent symbolism found in an MBII tomb at Megiddo
and comments, “The serpent on one of these vessels rests its head on
the rim, apparently searching for water.”345 She thus concludes that
the serpents are shown looking for water.
Does a serpent resting its head on a rim denote a serpent
searching for water? That would shift the intention of the symbolism to
the serpent itself. This makes sense in a cultic setting, but some of the
serpent vessels were clearly not linked with a cult. It seems more likely
that the serpent was used to symbolize something for the humans who
would use the vessel and its contents. The serpents’ mouths are close
to or directed toward the water or the place from which the water was
poured out. The symbolism thus seems not to be a putative category
of a “water-seeking serpent;” it appears to be another example of the
use of serpent symbolism as a protector of the water or milk that would
have been contained inside. Before the discovery of bacteria, it was
mysterious why milk and water could both provide both life and death.
Without so-called modern scientific knowledge, humans would need a
symbol to protect the water and milk so that it would not kill us but
provide health and life. These ophidian symbols thus do not seem to
indicate some new unknown category; they are further examples of the
well-known and pervasive use of serpent symbolism to denote the one
who protects health and life.
Another meaning seems also evident. Almost all the examples of
ophidian symbolism Joines lists were found in tombs. There are
exceptions, such as the serpent iconography found on the temple
vessel from MBIIB Jericho and the example from the Shechem temple.
Thus, the vast number of vessels with serpents near the rims were
found in tombs. Apparently the use of the serpent was meant to
symbolize its role in the restoration and enhancement of life and
health. The meaning seems also enhanced by the contents of the
vessel: water or milk. These were also symbols of health and life.
Perhaps the serpent vessels in tombs might also, when the belief is
present, denote immortality, rejuvenation, or renewed life—or the hope
of such.
Similar to the symbolism of protector is the meaning of power. The
Middle Bronze Age cultic bowl with serpents and bulls found at
Megiddo most likely was intended to symbolize majesty, power, and
protection. More important, these concepts denote or at least connote
divinity. The meaning of the serpent symbolism becomes clear when
we read Nebuchadnezzar II’s inscription for the high Ishtar Gate in
honor of Marduk: “The gate of Nana (Ishtar … I built) with (blue)
enamelled bricks … for Marduk my lord. Lusty bulls of bronze and
mighty figures of serpents I placed at their thresholds, …, Marduk,
exalted lord … eternal life … give us a gift.”346 Nebuchadnezzar
frequently refers to his practice of erecting monuments with “terrible
bronze bulls” and “dreadful” or “terrible serpents standing erect.”347
Many meanings would be evoked by this practice. Perhaps
Nebuchadnezzar’s main purpose was to stress the power and
protection provided by a god. The serpents thus did not signify the
embodiment of Marduk; they symbolized the presence of his power
and protection.
The serpent can also symbolize justice and the one who protects it.
One of the best examples comes from ancient Mesopotamia. A
limestone deed-stone highlights a large serpent that covers the top
and circles down to the bottom. The eyes and nostrils of the serpent
are prominent and its scales are remarkably indicated. It dates from
about 1100 BCE. The serpent represents the goddess of justice.348
Fertility and positive dimensions of eroticism are a, but not the,
dominant meaning of Palestinian ophidian symbolism. The ophidian
symbolism found at Beth Shan could also have been intended to
denote fertility. The serpent is displayed crawling upward, and
although the figures directly above it are lost, the woman in the upper
square window has spread her legs to expose a prominent mons
veneris. More than eroticism and some forms of phallic meaning are
certainly intended. Fertility and fruit-fulness seem to be the main
meanings of the ophidian iconography found at Beth Shan.
The Late Bronze Age plaque at Beth Shemesh also seems to
denote fertility and eroticism. The serpent is depicted lying on the left
shoulder of the goddess, across the left breast, and resting on the left
thigh. The place of the serpent on the body of the goddess enhances
an erotic interpretation.
The LBII serpent artifacts at Beth Shan seem to symbolize fertility
and eroticism. One serpent has human-like breasts. Another serpent is
depicted with a cup placed beneath the nipple. The iconography
denotes the life-giving quality of lacteal milk.349 The breasts symbolize
nourishing milk, not sexual allurement.
The erect serpents featured on the Iron Age Gezer plaque,
celebrating Hathor and Asherah, probably denoted fertility and some
positive aspects of eroticism. This dimension is clear since the
serpents are upraised, and depicted on each side of Asherah.350 A
second serpent object was found at Gezer. It shows a goddess with
serpentine artwork ascending from the shoulders.351
It is certain that these ophidian images, in stone, clay, bronze,
silver, copper, and sometimes with gold heads, should not be restricted
to Canaanite cults. The story about Moses lifting up of a serpent in the
wilderness may be an etiological cult legend developed to support the
worship of or through a serpent. Certainly a serpent was worshipped in
the Jerusalem Temple before the reforms of Hezekiah. E. Stern rightly
claims that “it should be emphasized that the snake cult in the ancient
Near East was not, by any means, peculiar to the Canaanite culture
alone, but snakes also occur as sacred attributes in other cultic
centres of the region.”352

Summary

The amount of ophidian iconography unearthed by archaeologists is

vast and astonishing; its message will be enlightening to those who
assume that serpents, serpent cults, and serpent veneration were
never a significant aspect of worship in “the Holy Land.” Let us
summarize what has been collected and discussed in the preceding
pages.
All the seven serpents discovered in ancient Palestine, and thus
excluding the thirteenth-or twelfth-century gold-plated copper serpent
from Timna‘, are bronze and date from the Late Bronze Age or earliest
years of Iron I. The exception is the gold serpent from Ekron that dates
from the seventh century BCE and is explained as an Egyptian
importation. Why do all the serpents share this material and time; how
do we explain this circumscribed floruit of individual bronze serpents?
While contemplating possible answers to this question, we may
examine three further observations. First, the serpent iconography in
ancient Palestine is markedly inferior to that found in some contiguous
cultures. For example, the most elegant snake boxes are found only in
Ugarit. Nowhere in Palestine is there a sophisticated work of ophidian
art to compare to the magnificent serpent vase unearthed at Susa in
Persia.353 Likewise, nothing found in Palestine begins to compare with
the artistry found so frequently in Egypt. The treasures in
Tutankhamen’s tomb—many with ophidian iconography354 —are only
examples and not exceptions to the sophisticated serpent iconography
so replete in ancient Egypt. Nowhere in ancient Palestine is there
anything to compare with Egypt’s Sphinx, Nineveh’s winged bull, the
serpent designs on Boeotian ceramics,355 or the Phoenicians’ glass
artwork.356
Second, even including the numerous ophidian objects found at
Beth Shan, no site in ancient Palestine can be said to rival the vast
amount of serpent objects and ophidian symbolism found elsewhere.
For example, no one site from Dan to Beer-sheba has produced
anything like the vast amount of ophidian iconography recovered from
the “Mound of Serpents.” This site, which dates from that area’s Iron
Age (circa 1200 BCE to circa 250 BCE), is in the Arabian Peninsula in
Oman and in the small tell near the Al-Qusais graves.357 Likewise,
while a dog cemetery was found at Ashkelon, no serpent burials have
been discovered in ancient Palestine like the forty “snake bowls” with
skeletons of serpents often curled around a precious gem like a pearl.
These were found beneath the floor of the Palace of Uperi at Qal’at
Bahrain, which dates from the seventh century BCE.358 Finally, no
ancient place in Palestine has produced the amount and variety of
serpent iconography so typical of sites in Italy, Greece, and Egypt.359
Third, the ophidian iconography found in ancient Palestine is basic
or realistic; that is, the object is clearly a serpent or an idealized
serpent. There are no mixed figures, such as we will see in the Greek
and Roman world, like chimera, that is, a lion with a ram protruding
from his back and with a serpent as a tail, the Giants with anguipedes,
or Medusa with serpents protruding from her hair. Furthermore,
nothing found in ancient Palestine is similar to the “snake-dragon” and
“lion-dragon” so common in the iconography of ancient
Mesopotamia.360

CONCLUSION

Snakes are not drawn to exercise artists’ fingers. The iconography

represents a need. Whenever the serpent could be physically present
among us and where humans have left traces we find serpent
iconography. To make a form of a serpent or to draw one, no matter
how primitive, is to express the “I” and the “We.” Such drawings of
serpents help us connect with each other and with nature, including life
and death. The human needs symbols and needs to make them. We
pour ourselves into symbols and in so doing express our fears and
hopes. In serpent iconography, humans, since 40,000 BCE, have found
a way of finding the self.
In its very nature of being able to represent—at once and
immediately—two opposites, the serpent signifies the archetypal,
primordial, and phenomenological mode of symbology. It articulates for
us our presence in this world. We approach truth; that is, the insight
sought through the tension symbolized by two opposites: life-death,
truth-falsehood, and good-evil. Sometimes truth comes in pairs: father-
son, heaven-earth, morning-night, man-woman. From myths that even
antedate 40,000 BCE we observe the primordial need of all humans: to
express in storied forms the attempt to obtain meaning within a
chaotically uncategorical meaningless cascade of phenomena. Human
existence and meaning tend to need symbolism.
There should be no doubt now that the vast amount of ophidian
jewelry from Greek and Roman times heralds the serpent as a symbol
of numerous positive meanings, including beauty, protection, and
comfort.361 For a millennium, and more, the serpent had been
associated in Mediterranean cultures with the feminine and
goddesses. By the time of the Fourth Evangelist, the serpent had lost
most of its evil symbolic meanings. As R. S. Bianchi states, the
serpent “was primarily linked with goddesses who were considered
protectors of women. It became fashionable to wear golden finger
rings and bracelets in the shape of snakes, which would wrap their
protective curls around the wearer’s finger or wrist.”362 We have
reviewed succinctly the evidence of such impressive ophidian jewelry
from the West and the East. Some of the most stunning examples are
the golden bracelets from Pompeii, which we know were being worn
during the life of the Fourth Evangelist who was probably not born after
79 CE, when Pompeii was covered with ash from Vesuvius.
 The Perception That the Serpent Is a
4 Positive Symbol in Greek and Roman
Literature
If we were to proceed chronologically, we would now begin a study of
serpent imagery in the Old Testament (Hebrew Bible). It is best, for
three reasons, to reserve the examination of biblical passages until the
Greek and Roman data have been assessed. First, biblical studies
demand the same methodology as all ancient literature, but the issues
become very complex and often demand reexamining set
presuppositions and cultural animus for or against these texts.
Second, the Greek data canvasses many centuries; it does not simply
begin after the last book in the Old Testament, Daniel, was composed
and compiled about 164 BCE. Hence, a chronological approach would
be prima facie impossible. Third, it would be absurd to think that we
should attend to the date of an example of serpent iconography as if
the symbology appeared only then. The date of an artifact is not a
reliable date for iconography. A gold, silver, or bronze serpent can be
found in a Roman stratification of a site, but the object may antedate
the stratum by many years. Valuable and imperishable objects were
used and passed down, and ancient graves were robbed by Romans,
as they are today by Bedouin.

GREEK AND ROMAN OPHIDIAN SYMBOLISM AND

IRANIAN MYTHOLOGY

In contrast to other ancient cultures, with the exception of the Egyptian

religion, the Greeks, followed closely by the Romans, employed
serpent symbolism the most. Both the Greeks and the Romans were
deeply influenced by Egyptian ophidian symbolism. The unique
development of ophidian symbolism within Greek and Roman art and
culture becomes clear when one contrasts Greek and Roman myths
with Persian myths.
The evil god Angra Mainyu (Ahriman) does sometimes change into
a lizard or a serpent. In a second-century CE stone carving he appears
with two raised serpents near his left shoulder, and perhaps two
serpents protruding from each shoulder.1 The warrior and physician
called Thraetaona is “the most victorious of all victorious men next to
Zarathustra” (Avesta, Yasht 19.36–37).2 He cures the evil caused by
the serpent, and he battles dragons. According to the early myths in
the Shahnameh (Book of Kings [c. 1010 CE]), evils and death are
caused by black demons called “divs,” which are not personifications
of Ahriman, Satan, but represent enemy kings.3 Shahnameh art of the
eighteenth century CE shows Rustam and his horse Rakhsh defeating
a monstrous dragon. In addition to the pervasive negative meaning of
a serpent and dragon, one finds positive meanings for the serpent in
Persia. For example, in early Roman times Mithra is depicted in a
Tauroctony virtually everywhere from upper Germany to Persia.4 That
is, Mithra (in Latin Arimanius) is shown slaying a bull: he is
accompanied by a serpent, a scorpion, and a dog. Aeon (Zrvan
Akarana), a lion-faced god in Mithraism, appears with serpent coils
surrounding his body; these represent the repetitious nature of time.5
Yet the dominant image in such widespread depictions of the
Tauroctony is not the serpent; it is Mithra followed by the bull.
Sometimes in Rome and the West, Mithra appears with a lion’s head
and serpent feet (anguipedes).6 An ambiguous figure in Mithraism is a
lion-headed statue with a body that is entwined by a snake. The image
may denote Aion, Chronos, or Zurvan, and while some scholars (like
S. Insler) think the figure should be associated with the evil god
Ahriman, most scholars interpret it to denote some benevolent deity.7
Thus, serpent iconography is found in Iranian religion, literature,
and art. Most of it dates from Christian times, but there is some from
preChristian eras. Yet, in contrast to Egyptian and Greek and Roman
culture, serpent and dragon images do not abound in Persian culture.
Thus, we should distinguish between searching for evidence and the
actual evidence.

Greek and Roman Serpent Symbolism: An Overview

In contrast to Persian culture, images of serpents permeate Greek and

Roman literature, art, and culture. To grasp the significance of the in-
depth exploration that will soon commence, it is wise to get an
overview of the area for exploration.
Ophidian or anguine iconography appears on the painted walls of
homes in Pompeii, on pithoi (large storage jars), on ornately decorated
jars (like the Athenian red-figured hydria (water jars), on coins, and
through words in epics, poems, and official documents.
Figure 47. Gorgon with Two Elegant Serpents Highlighted on Head. Royal Tomb at Vergina.
Circa 350–336 BCE. Courtesy of the Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki.

It is impressive to note how ophidian or anguine symbolism

permeates Greek and Roman legends and myths, shaping Hellenistic
culture. Demeter and her daughter, Persephone, are often depicted
sending Triptolemus to humans with the gift of wheat. He is often
shown seated on a chariot drawn by raised serpents (see the final
section on serpents and chariots).8
Well known on buildings and painted vases, beginning at least in
the eighth century BCE, are depictions of Medusa. She and the other
Gorgons are shown as women with serpents rising from their hair.
Serpents are the ones who reveal to Melampus the languages of
animals; he thus becomes the first human with prophetic powers. The
serpents had licked his ears when he was sleeping. Scylla had six
snaky heads. Basilisk is the king of serpents. Asclepius almost always
appears with a staff around which a serpent is coiled, and Hermes is
associated with the caduceus (two raised serpents facing each other).
Ovid describes Phaeton’s ill-fated ride into the heavens on a
chariot. The venture resulted in cosmic disasters; in particular, the
Serpent, which had been coiled harmlessly around the North Pole,
rises with rage. In order to avoid the advances of Peleus, Thetis
changes into fire, monsters, and serpents. When Priam’s wife was
pregnant with Paris, she dreamed of giving birth to a torch from which
streamed hissing serpents. When Laocoon, Poseidon’s priest during
the Trojan War, warned about the wooden horse the Greeks had left,
he and his two sons were strangled by two massive serpents that had
been called out of the sea, presumably by the warlike Athena (more
will be said about Laocoon).
In the legend of the Golden Fleece, perhaps older than the Iliad
and the Odyssey,9 Aeetes hangs the fleece in a grove that was
guarded by a serpent. Before Jason can obtain the Golden Fleece, he
must defeat armed warriors who originate from the teeth of the
dreadful serpent, who had guarded Ares’ pool but had been defeated
by Kadmos. The maenads are women who became ecstatic during the
worship of Dionysus; they often are depicted as those who charmed
serpents.
The founding of great cities is recorded in legends and myths
featuring serpents. The Pythian games celebrated how Apollo founded
Delphi by slaying the enormous serpent, Python, with his arrows, and
helped bring order out of chaos after the great flood.
Likewise the myths about the founding of Thebes resonate with
serpent imagery. Cadmus, in searching for Europa, the daughter of a
king of Phoenicia, killed a large dragon or massive serpent that had
annihilated his servants. The serpent had been sacred to Mars. The
“Sown Men” (Spartoi) are brothers who evolve from the dragon’s or
serpent’s teeth that had been planted in the earth. In his Classical Art
and the Cultures of Greece and Rome, J. Onians astutely stresses the
significance of the “Sown Men” who originate from snake’s teeth:

Snake’s teeth possess inherently, and more perfectly, many of the properties people sought in
stone, and others besides. They are harder, sharper, more regular than even the most
carefully finished blocks. They also fulfil a commander’s dream. Arrayed in three rows in the
snake’s jaw those behind move up unbidden when necessary to replace those in front. A
phalanx made of men who sprang from snake’s teeth was even better than one made of men
who sprang from stones.10

These reflections help us grasp the original meaning seen in this myth
by many reflective Greeks and Romans. The story of Cadmus is tragic;
he and his wife, Harmonia (the daughter of Venus), live harassed lives,
because of Mars’ revenge. How does the story end? Both are turned
into serpents.
Ophidian iconography thus not only shaped Greek myths and
culture; it saturated them. At this stage in our work, it would be unwise
to ask if the iconography and stories represented serpents embodying
good or evil symbols. We ought rather to explore what are the many
positive and negative meanings represented by the myriad of serpents
in art, religion, and literature during the Greek and Roman eras. In this
endeavor, we need to be aware of modern methods, or allegorical
interpretations, which as R. Martin states, “dampen the rich, symbolic
overtones and resonances in the myth.”11
Since our focus has been the first century CE, before we begin an
in-depth study of Greek and Roman ophidian or anguine iconography,
we need to observe the major changes that occurred with the rise of
the monarchy and the emperors. With the collapse of the Roman
Republic, first with the civil war between Julius Caesar and Pompey
and then between Octavian and Antony, Rome lost its hold on its own
identity. The traditional patriarchal family units closely tied to farmers in
Italy, France, Spain, and elsewhere had produced little art or literature.
When Rome militarily conquered Greece, Roman culture was
intellectually conquered by Greek culture, especially in the spheres of
art and iconography. The words of Horace are worth citing:

Graecia capta ferum Captive Greece captured her

victorem cepit untamed victor,
And brought the arts to countrified
et artes intulit agresti Latio
Latium.
[Epistles II, 1.156–57] [my idiomatic translation]

The word “untamed” also represents wild and savage. The adjective
“countrified” intends to evoke thoughts about the rustic, boorish, and
agrarian world of the Romans. The noun “Latium” denotes the area
near Rome. Both Greece and Rome are portrayed as “captured.” What
does this signify? As R. Turcan states in The Cults of the Roman
Empire (p. 2), Horace’s vision primarily means that “Greek civilization
was a daughter of the East, as Roman civilization was the product of
Greek education.”
When Octavian defeated Mark Antony and Cleopatra at Actium in
31 BCE, he was faced with a nation and world that had been shattered
and lost its powerful symbols. He wisely decided not to call himself
“Romulus,” which would have brought up the unattractive concept of
kingship. “Augustus” was a superb choice, whether it is related to
augere “to increase,” or augur, one who interprets omens. As Florus
stated, the title “Augustus” seemed to confer “divinity upon him”
(2.34.66).12
The Augustan Age thus saw the rebuilding of temples and the
resurgence in the use of powerful and effective symbols. In the Roman
world, Octavian was the son of Apollo and Antony the son of Dionysus.
The latter had little chance for success, in the world of Roman
symbolism, since prior to 31 BCE there had already developed a strong
pro-Apollo culture and polemics against Dionysus. Virgil, under the
patronage of Augustus, helped create a new myth: Apollo had fought
with Augustus against Antony and empowered him to conquer the
world.13
As P. Zanker states in The Power of Images in the Age of
Augustus, scarcely in history has art been “pressed into the service of
political power so directly as in the Age of Augustus.”14 Horace had
predicted that Rome would remain “sullied with the guilt of your
fathers, until you have rebuilt the temples and restored all the ruined
sanctuaries” (Carmen 3.6). It is thus a paradigmatic shift in the history
of Roman iconography and art to hear Augustus claim: “I restored 82
temples of the gods of Rome and did not omit a single one which was
at that time in need of renewal” (Res Gestae 20).15 While this claim
seems unrealistic, it does place the religious revival under Augustus.

Figure 48. Bronze Sarcophagus. Two dolphins above and two baskets filled with fruit framing
a Medusa with serpents in her hair. Circa third-sixth century CE. JHC Collection

It is this perspective that will inform our research. Some, perhaps

many, studies of ancient Roman art and iconography have given
insufficient attention to the political power struggle that marred the first
century BCE. These historical forces frame the meaning often poured
into art, architecture, and iconography. It is in this context and with this
perception that Greek and later Roman ophidian iconography will be
collected and assessed. Under Augustus in the West and in the East
(after 70 CE when Jerusalem was burned) Hellenistic culture could
flourish under a world peace, when poetry and art could thrive with
imaginings of a better and blessed world ahead. As texts need
contexts to reveal their meanings, so iconography is best studied in
light of what we can discern about the history behind, and perhaps
mirrored within, it.
The educated today, when prompted to think about serpent
symbolism in Greek and Roman antiquity, would most likely suggest
some images that have been ingrained in our modern consciousness
(and the unconscious).16 The image of Laocoon struggling with large
serpents might be suggested because of the monumental sculptures
seen in museums and in photographs (as we indicated earlier).17 The
Minoan goddess holding aloft from each hand two writhing serpents
would probably come to mind,18 not least because of her impressive
breasts, seductively exposed.19 The image of Medusa with serpents
crawling in her hair is so well known and ubiquitous in modern culture
that even the untutored might mention this anguine symbol in a
discussion. The contemporary mind might remember also depictions of
Hercules wrestling with serpents,20 perhaps because the image is so
well disseminated in our Western culture.21 For example, in Dresden’s
Skulpturensammlung is a bronze sculpture of Hercules (probably not
Laocoon as some think). It is by Francesco di Giorgio Martini and is
dated 1495. In Hercules’ uplifted left hand is a captured serpent that
curls along his arm.
The amount of anguine iconography from the Greek and Roman
world is remarkable.22 The evidence comes from virtually every part of
the world known to the Greeks and Romans. The serpent was not
highlighted in ornamental jewelry merely for decoration, as we
demonstrated earlier;23 it had religious and symbolic meanings.
Fountains were sometimes decorated not only with nymphs but also
water serpents.24 In the following pages, I will present a selection of
these data, now focusing on literary texts. The amount of attention the
Greeks and Romans gave to serpent imagery will most likely prove
astounding to many scholars.
Before proceeding further with an examination of the meaning of
ophidian iconography and symbology in the Greek and Roman worlds,
we should bring into focus that there are forty-one names for snake
taxonomy in Greek (see Appendix II). The Greeks also had a word for
“belonging to serpents.” In fact, that same word, ophiakos, also
denoted “a form of leprosy in which the patient sheds his skin like a
snake.” The richness of Greek vocabulary in regard to snakes is
remarkable. The Greeks had words for “the food of serpents,”
“serpent-eating,” “serpent-chaser,” “serpent-killer,” “serpent-fighter,”
“snake charmer.” The Greeks were able to denote with one word
“serpent-tailed,” “serpent-eating,” and “serpent-bearing.”25 It is certain
that we cannot represent in English the exact meanings of some
Greek terms and that the Greeks knew more about serpents than
English-speaking people. The Greeks were different from us; they
were much closer to our earth than most of us.

Serpents on Vases

Serpent iconography on vases reaches a high level in the second half

of the seventh century BCE. It flourished especially in Corinth. Artwork
of a certain type is so unusual that it is referred to as the work of the
“Snake Painter.”26 The artwork is elegant, often with stunning black
figures on white ware. The serpent is usually raised, with a triangular
head, and with six curves—probably to indicate power and mobility.27

Figure 49. Large Upright Serpent with Harmonia Seated. Greek vase. Metropolitan Museum
of Art 07.286.66.
Gods and Goddesses as Part Snake

The veneration of Isis continued into the Greek and Roman periods
with some modification. She is portrayed sometimes with a woman’s
face and a serpent’s body. The ceramic serpent images shown in Figs.
50 and 51 probably portray Isis with a serpent’s torso. They date from
around 100 BCE, most likely, and were obtained in Israel. Reputedly,
the one that is not broken was found south of Ashkelon and the broken
one in the vicinity of Jerusalem. The broken one depicts an Isis with a
serpent’s body, a high crown (polos), and a torch. Both are similar to
the first-century BCE sandstone stele of the snake-bodied Isis and
Dionysus in the British Museum.28
Isis was portrayed not only as partly serpentine, but also holding a
cobra,29 or with two large serpents.30 Like Asclepius who appears
ubiquitously holding a staff31 around which is curled a serpent,32 Isis is
also imagined as an upraised cobra with its hood extended.33 It is now
clear that the Egyptian Isis cult was active in Rome, especially in the
coastal cites, like Venice, ancient Ostia, and particularly Aquileia.34
Other gods beside Isis were portrayed as a serpent, and this will be
evident later; for now, a short synopsis would help introduce the
following summaries. Typhon is conceived with the body of a serpent
below the waist and sometimes with anguipedes (serpents as feet).35
Serapis (or Sarapis) sometimes appears as a large upraised serpent
with a goatee.36 Amphiaraos is shown as a serpent as he heals
Archinos from his sickness.37
Figure 50. Left. Isis with Serpent’s Torso. Circa 100 BCE. Reportedly found south of Ashkelon.
JHC Collection
Figure 51. Above. Isis with Serpent’s Torso. Circa 100 BCE. Reportedly found near
Jerusalem. JHC Collection

The imagination of the ancients was not chaotic or without any

control. It is precarious to suggest that syncretism was in full force. We
should talk about influence from one culture on another or of
acculturation and assimilation.38 Athena, for example, is never
portrayed with a uraeus, the upraised cobra that signified divinity in
Egypt. This fact seems impressive since Mercury was imagined
sometimes with a uraeus39 as were Hermes (his Greek equivalent)40
and Isis.41

Depictions of Gods and Goddesses with Animals

It is well known that the ancient gods were often portrayed with
animals. Neptune is often depicted with a dolphin,42 and Poseidon with
a fish.43 Prometheus is shown with a vulture.44 Castores is associated
with a horse.45 Leda is almost always pictured with a swan,46
sometimes copulating with a large male swan.47 Hyakinthos is
imagined riding on a swan,48 as is Kamarina,49 and sometimes
Aphrodite.50 Europa is associated with a bull,51 and Theseus is
frequently conceived as fighting a bull.52 Selene or Luna (the moon) is
sometimes depicted in a chariot pulled by oxen.53
Romulus and Remus are imagined with a female fox.54 In our
search for the meaning of serpent symbolism, a brief digression
exploring the symbolic meaning of the fox helps frame our quest. Is the
fox only a symbol of the founding of Rome? Did it always mean that, or
was it merely an ornamentation, as it is today on some shelves and
desks? F. Cumont suggested that the twins’ wolf denotes a type of
eternity.55 If so, then it behooves us to follow the lead of A. D. Nock
and ask if we are intended to contemplate “absolute eternity,” whatever
that might mean among an array of options, the eternity of “invincible”
Rome or our own personal immortality.56 With Nock, I am convinced
that Cicero was correct to point out that Rome’s eternity was
tantamount to the universe’s eternity, and that a person would only be
eternal because of his or her quality of being Roman; that is, as a
Roman permanently linked with so-called eternal Rome.57
Figure 52. Athena. Early Roman Period. Courtesy of the Hermitage. JHC

Telephos is shown with a deer.58 Artemis is depicted with a hunting

dog.59
Athena is portrayed with serpents as fringes on her garments.60
She is imagined with serpents rising from her shoulders,61 joined to
make a necklace,62 or coiled on her shawl.63
Athena is also one of the war goddesses. She has serpents on her
hel-met.64 Serpents are shown, infrequently, on the shields of her
warriors,65 and sometimes fighting for her.66 Occasionally, a serpent is
portrayed encircling a tree before her.67 Most important, a serpent is
portrayed coiled upright next to her shield that is held by her left hand
and resting on a surface.68 This conception seems significant because
she was most likely seen in this fashion by the thousands who visited
the Parthenon in Athens. There stood a colossal statue of Athena, in
gold and ivory, made by Pheidias in about 400 BCE and she was
represented by serpents.
We can catch a glimpse of Pheidias’ masterpiece through the
“Varvakeion Athena,” a marble copy of the Athena Parthenos he had
made for the Parthenon in about 447 BCE. The copy dates from the
second or third century CE. It is chryselephantine (made of gold and
ivory). It bears thirteen serpents on the chest, with a Gorgon. One
serpent appears on each wrist. A large serpent is depicted on the
inside of her shield and a Gorgon on the outside. Two serpents are on
the belt. The chest garment (aegis) is decorated as snake skin, similar
to the skin of a large serpent on the lower right. The profusion of
serpents is remarkable.69

Figure 53. Two Silver Coins. Above: Asclepius feeding a snake, courtesy of the Numismatic
Museum in Athens. Below: Philip I with Salus, in the Charlesworth collection. The serpent
depicted the prosperity Rome in the third century CE brought to those in the world. JHC
Collection

A serpent is often shown along with Minerva and Athena, probably

because of the association of these goddesses with the earth. This
survey of gods with animals opens a deeper appreciation of the
appearance of gods as serpents, as partial serpents, or with serpent
images.
Most of the gods were linked with the awesome wonder of the
serpent. Jupiter is sometimes shown with a serpent on his right
shoulder.70 Dionysus is depicted fighting with the assistance of one or
more serpents.71 Bacchus,72 Dioskouroi,73 Hecate,74 and Harmonia75
are imagined on coins with two serpents. Prokles is portrayed with a
serpent, or dragon, on her head.76 Salus, the Roman personification of
prosperity, is conceived in ways reminiscent of Hygieia; that is (as we
shall see), with a serpent eating out of a bowl in her right hand.77 Lar
or Lares is imagined with a large serpent.78 Minerva, depicted as
either a female or a male, is portrayed with a serpent eating out of a
bowl held in her right hand,79 and with serpents fighting with her.80 She
is also depicted with feminine breasts and with serpents crawling
upward,81 as well as with serpents curled around her neck and
chest.82 In a similar fashion, Sirona is portrayed with a serpent draped
around her right arm.83 Thetis is shown with her human husband
Peleus, with serpents, or a serpent, biting him.84 Common themes are
highlighted by a serpent moving into the picture.85
Agamemnon, Talthybios, and Epeios, the builder of the wooden
horse for the Trojans, are depicted with a large upraised, coiled
serpent that bears a crown.86 Tiberius is portrayed beneath a
menacing serpent.87 And, as one might imagine, Fortuna is portrayed
with animals and her cornucopia;88 sometimes she is imagined holding
a serpent in her right hand and feeding it from a bowl, or philiae, in her
left hand (as Hygieia is often depicted).89 Nephthys is associated with
a serpent swallowing its own tail (perhaps Ouroboros) and sometimes
with one or two upraised cobras.90 Harpokrates,91 Strymon,92 and
Heros Equitans93 are imagined before a large upraised serpent.
Perseus94 and Kreousa95 frequently, and Cerberus96 usually, are
depicted with a serpent. Peleus is shown with two serpents in his right
hand,97 and Somnus with a serpent in each hand.98 Pegasus is
frequently shown stomping a serpent and a chimera (a lion with a ram
protruding from its back and with a serpent for a tail).99
Cybele is customarily depicted with a lion, riding a lion (perhaps
influenced by the iconography that depicts the Syrian goddess
Qadesh),100 and in a chariot pulled by lions.101 She is also, notably,
shown with a serpent.102 A stunning example is the depiction of the
cosmic triumph of Cybele and Attis that is immortalized on a silver
patera from 360–390 CE. Two serpents appear in the scene. One
winds majestically up a column. It has seven curls, indicating its
cosmic powers.103
Cadmus is shown fighting an aroused hydra.104 The supposition
that on the earth there were serpents with more than one head was
recorded by Aelian. Presumably drawing upon a work entitled
Concerning Wild Animals by a certain Pammenes, he claimed that
“there are two-headed Snakes ( ) which have two feet in
the region of the tail.” 105

The Argonauts are portrayed battling the dragon-serpent,106 and

Sep-tem is shown about to kill a serpent.107 Archemoros is depicted as
a child in the coils of a large serpent,108 and Cadmus before a
threatening and large serpent.109 From the influential and classical
myths comes a depiction of Jason being swallowed by a large
serpent,110 befriending a serpent that is in a tree,111 and fighting a
serpent that has a goatee or beard.112 This description may be odd for
us but not for the ancients, since Aelian reported that it is common
knowledge that there are serpents with beards (or goatees) beneath
their chins.113 We find another more believable explanation for the
serpent’s beard in the Scholia in Nicandrum (Ad Theriaca 438): “The
serpent … is by nature black, with a yellow pale belly, beautiful in
shape … and along its chin raised scales give the impression of a
beard, yellow like the body.”114
Aphrodite is depicted with serpents,115 and Mars between two large
upraised serpents.116 One or more Maenads are shown thrusting
forward an aroused serpent,117 holding a thyrsus (rod) with a coiled
serpent118 or just holding a serpent.119 Scylla is usually depicted with a
dragon’s tail or fish tails; she is also shown with anguipedes.120
More than a few deities were portrayed anatomically, as we have
already seen, with serpent characteristics. Chimaera was depicted as
a lion with a ram protruding from his back and with a serpent as a
tail.121 Titeos is portrayed as a “lion” with a serpent as a tail.122

Did the Learned Not Reject Serpent Mythology and

Symbology?

Did not the educated Greeks and Romans tend to discount these
myths? Yes; although many intellectuals recognized their power and
utility, they did not take the myths literally. The best example is found in
the writings of Cicero. This learned Roman could not tolerate such
uninformed mythology. In his work on the nature of the gods (De
natura deorum 1.101), he claims that the Egyptians foolishly deified
animals. Cicero scoffs at the belief that the ibis “protects Egypt from
plague, by killing and eating flying serpents (volucris anguis) that are
brought from the Libyan desert by the southwest wind.”123 Also in the
same work he rightly castigates the superstitions of the many and the
erroneous portrayal of the gods. Cicero advised his contemporaries to
consider such nonsense “old wives’ “ tales (De natura deorum 2.70–
72).
Socrates in the pages of Xenophon can claim that if the universe
had no soul it would be impossible, or at least difficult, to imagine the
source of our own soul. Cicero demurs. He admits that there is
“concord and harmony” in nature, but he claims that “coherence and
permanence are achieved by the forces not of the gods, but of
nature.”124
Another example of the rejection of serpent iconography is found in
the writings of Ovid. After 8 CE, when Ovid was exiled (actually
“relegated” [relegates]) and Augustus forbade anyone to correspond
with him, he wrote that it was more difficult to believe that a dear and
loyal friend had not written to him than to believe “that the gorgon
Medusa’s face was garlanded with serpent hair [anguineis], that there
is a Chimera, formed of a lioness and serpent held apart by a flame …
and Giants with serpent feet [serpentipedesque Gigantes].” That is, all
these are easier for Ovid to believe than to imagine his beloved friend
had forsaken his love for him (my translation; Tristia 4.7.1–26). It is
clear that Ovid did not believe that a Medusa existed with serpents for
hair, a Chimera that was part lioness and part serpent, and Giants with
serpent feet. Finally, in Virgil the serpent is usually a negative
symbol.125

The Poetic Imagination of the Greeks and Romans

Rather than proceeding as if only words had been gathered together,

we should stop and reflect on the denigration of serpent imagery by
some great minds. What did the Greek and Roman iconography
symbolize, and what symbolic power did it possess? It was
widespread, as we have been seeing, and clearly many of the
intelligentsia approved of it.
The serpent images show remarkable imagination. It is arresting to
contemplate a Giant with serpents as feet.126 It is difficult to suppose
that the intelligentsia in Greece and Rome took such images
literally.127
They were symbols for something beyond the literal. The point
seems to have been missed by Lucretius, who could not imagine that
in primordial times the Chimera had such a form, with “in front a lion, in
the rear a serpent, [and] in the middle, as her name shows, a goat
[prima leo, postrema draco, media ipsa, Chimaera].” 128 We need to
remember that symbols point our mind and imagination to that which
cannot be stated or explained. We so-called moderns have trouble
with what was culturally engrained in the Greeks: the poetics of
imagination and the art of perspective. Our perception of the world is
incomplete and abstracted since we have no place or canon in which
to perceive and appreciate “perspective,” as James Elkins reminds us
in his The Poetics of Perspective. 129 The ancient ophidian
iconography is not bizarre; we are presented with symbols that are
suggestive of concepts and ideas, many of which have been stressed
already. Suffice it to state now that the ordinary lion is so impressive
and ferocious that to encapsulate its power the ancients add, for
example, a serpent on its back or as a tail.
As we continue to contemplate the meaning of the symbol of the
serpent in antiquity, it is essential to attempt to enter into their symbolic
universe. How did the ancients comprehend the world; was it not full of
wild, mysterious, and wondrously complex animals? The attempt to
enter their world is ultimately impossible, but it may be facilitated by
imagining that the following account, from Aelian, is accurate:

In Metelis, a town of Egypt, there is a sacred Serpent [ ] in a tower, and it

receives honours and has ministers and servants, and before it are set a table and a bowl. So
every day they pour barley into this bowl and soak it in honey and milk and then depart,
returning on the following day to find the bowl empty.130

This account by Aelian clarifies and proves our earlier surmises

regarding what the ancients offered the sacred serpents to eat and
drink. It also indicates that the ancients attributed human
characteristics to the serpent. This serpent even has ministers and
servants who wait on it as if it were a god or king.
In Greek and Roman mythology the serpent symbolically
represents not only the obscure powers that the Greeks and Romans
thought tormented gods and humans, but also the positive attributes of
numerous gods. As Artemidorus reported in Onirocritica, the “serpents
[ApaKtov] … stand for all the gods who are sacred. These are Zeus,
Sabazius, Helios, Demeter, Kore, Hecate, Asclepius, [and] the
Heroes.”131 In the following pages, we will focus on Zeus, Asclepius,
and other gods and goddesses who are more significantly represented
by snakes.

THE INDIVIDUAL GODS OR GODDESSES AND SERPENT

ICONOGRAPHY
In a focused attempt to understand the symbolism of (or behind) the
Fourth Gospel, I will highlight from Hellenic and Hellenistic
iconography and Greek and Roman authors the gods and heroes
(since the boundaries between them were fluid) who were associated
in the Hellenic and Hellenistic mind with the serpent. Thus, the
following will be discussed briefly: Hermes (Mercury), Agathos Daimon
or Agathadaimon, Giants, Hercules, Cerberus, Laocoon, Glykon,
Medusa, Ladon, Aion, Ouroboros, Babli, Chnoubis, Zeus, Apollo,
Mithra, Abraxas, Asclepius, and Hygieia. I will then conclude by asking
some central questions concerning Greek and Roman serpent
symbology and by quoting and assessing the uniquely significant
comments about the meaning of the serpent by Philo of Byblos.

Hermes (Mercury)

Hermes (Mercury) is the messenger of the gods; he communicates not

only their will to humans but also human prayers to the gods.132 He is
the Greek god who mediates between heaven and earth.
The Greek imagination associated Hermes with the caduceus.133
He is often depicted with a staff with one, two, or three circles. Above
them are two serpents.134 The caduceus is often only stylized
serpents, but sometimes the heads of the caduceus reveal two
realistic snakes with mouths open, as in the mosaic “da Porta Portese”
now in the Vatican Museum.135 Usually, the serpents face each other;
sometimes they look in opposite di-rections.136
Hermes is also conceived to be the guide of the dead to the next
world that is imagined to be under the earth—that is, the chthonic
realm.137 He is the god who dwells under the earth;138 thus, his
chthonic nature is understandably symbolized by serpents.
Sometimes, the circles are stylized ser-pents.139 As J. L. Henderson
states, an “important and widespread symbol of chthonic
transcendence is the motif of the two entwined serpents. These are
the famous Naga serpents of ancient India; and we also find them in
Greece as the entwined serpents on the end of the staff belonging to
the god Hermes.”140
As we imagined when studying the serpent images found on Crete
and in ancient Palestine, so it is clear now that no other creature
represents so pervasively the underworld. This fact becomes evident
as we study the literature from Greek culture and the myths of the
serpent. I am convinced that this symbolism did not originate with the
Greeks; it was inherited from the East, perhaps ultimately from India
since other ideas from there flowed into the fertile imagination of the
Greek mind, particularly into Plato’s philosophy.141
The ancient Greeks and Romans saw the serpent slither away and
disappear perhaps deep into the earth.142 For them this chthonic
region was mysterious and the source of life; after all, plants were
seen to spring up out of the earth, especially in the spring, when
Persephone returned to the surface of the earth. The cosmos in
ancient cosmology was usually conceived to be twofold (cf. Gen 1);143
above the earth are the heavens, then the earth, and finally the world
beneath the surface of the earth. There was no three-tiered universe
with the heaven above, the earth beneath, and a separate underworld
far below the earth. While there is some debate on this issue, I am
convinced that the underworld was part of the earth; “beneath” it
meant beneath the earth’s surface.
The underworld was not a world devoid of life. It was assumed to
be a place to which persons went after death. There were gods of the
underworld, and they were important for those living on the earth. Note
the following inscription that dates near the century in which the Fourth
Gospel received its edited form:

DM To the gods of the underworld:

AELNOVELAE144 Aelia; Novella,
MRI-VIXITN-LXX her mother, 70 years old;
E-VICTRIAE-FOR145 And Victoria,
TIONCONVGI daughter of Fortionus,
VIXIT-N-XL-ET- 40 years old; and
HERMETIFILIO146 his son Hermes,
vixiT-N-xix-FL 19years old;
SERENVS-PISSM147 and Flavius Serenus, in pure love.

The opening, DM, is an abbreviation for D(is) M(anibus), which means

“To the gods (or Pluto) of the underworld.” The Latin inscription was
found near Ulm; it is on display in the Lapidarium in Stuttgart (no. 35).
The underworld seems to be part of the earth.
Thus, the serpent, when it disappears mysteriously into the earth,
has entered into the region in which the dead reside, not only literally
when they are buried in the earth, but also symbolically where they
reside forever after death. It is easy to imagine why the ancient
Greeks, and possibly those living in or near the Johannine community,
thought about and portrayed Hermes with a staff topped by two
entwined serpents (the caduceus).

Agathadaimon

Agathadaimon was a snake; the Greek word means “good god (spirit
or genius).”148 According to the Alexander Romance, the beneficial
deity was killed during the construction of the city. Alexander the Great
thus sought to mollify the god by building him a sanctuary in
Alexandria. From the time of Alexander III of Macedonia (“the Great”
[356–323 BCE]), an annual feast celebrated the sacred snake deity.149
The serpents that eventually lived in the temple were given a type of
porridge made from Egyptian wheat. The anti-Greek Potter’s Oracle is
an Egyptian polemical reply: the snake god has left Alexandria and
migrated to Memphis.
As we saw earlier, when studying the gods at Pompeii,
Agathadaimon was known elsewhere besides Alexandria.150 In Athens
he seems to have been a minor household god. He was revered
throughout most of Greece.151 Families had snakes not as house pets
but as house gods. The snakes were often fed by the family after their
main meal. The family left food behind for the serpents such as a
mixture of barley and wine. Associated with the fate of cities, as
indicated by the Potter’s Oracle, Agathadaimon became assimilated
and indistinguishable in many cities and on many altars with Agatha
Tyche. As Fraser indicated, Agathadaimon most likely originated within
Greece, perhaps Macedonia, and was brought to Egypt by the
Greeks.152 The earliest indisputable representation of Agathadaimon is
from the fourth century BCE.
Following the time of Alexander, the power and importance of
Agathadaimon increased. The most important god in the pantheon at
Alexandria was Serapis. He is depicted as a snake, but with the head
recognizable as Serapis. Scholars have shown that Serapis in this
image is clearly Agatha-daimon. The identification is confirmed by
coins, monuments, figurines, reliefs, lamps, and other realia.153 For
Alexandrians, the three most important gods seemed to have been
Serapis, often associated with Isis, Isis herself, and Harpocrates. Each
of them is depicted as a serpent.
Agathadaimon is iconographically a serpent. Besides the mural in
the House of the Veti at Pompei, shown earlier, the serpent appears in
Pompeii in the Temple of Isis.154 Sometimes he is depicted like an old
philosopher,155 and sometimes apparently as a raised and coiled
serpent, as on a slab of white marble found in a private house in Delos
and in a mural in the Pistrinum in Pompeii.156 Numerous reliefs from
the Greco-Roman Period, and virtually all from Alexandria, depict an
upraised cobra and a large upright serpent; the former is Isis-
Thermouthis, the latter Agathadaimon.157 The deity, Agathadaimon,
appears on coins, especially from the second century CE; on one he is
with Isis-Thermouthis, and on another he is on a horse and has the
head of Serapis.158 It is notable—especially for a better grasp of the
symbolism found in the Fourth Gospel—that the double representation
of Isis and Agathadaimon appears for the first time on coins during
Hadrian’s reign (117–38 CE). A statue from the Roman Period and from
Kasr Daoud in Egypt—and now on display in the Louvre (collection
Fouquet)—depicts Serapis as Agathadaimon with a human face.159
Dunand concluded that Agathadaimon symbolized the protection of
the house or home, the grantee of the fertility of the soil, and perhaps
as “un génie funéraire”160 —the one who conducts the corpse to
another life or merely protects it.
Focusing on Serapis, Agathadaimon, and Isis-Thermouthis, each of
whom is depicted as a serpent, Dunand helped clarify the symbolic
meaning of serpent iconography. He perceived three dominant themes
of serpent iconography in Alexandria: concern for the fertility of
Egyptian soil, an es-chatological dimension especially in the use of the
caduceus, and the idea of kingship.161 The serpent thus assured
prosperity in this life and in the next. Fraser was dubious that
Agathadaimon had any chthonic or eschatological overtones or
meaning.162 Pietrzykowski admits that Fraser is correct for the
Hellenistic Period,163 but that in the Roman Period, especially in the
early second century CE, during the reign of Hadrian, Agathadaimon,
Serapis, and Isis-Thermouthis were assimilated, portrayed as
serpents, and had obtained chthonic and eschatological symbolic
meaning.

Giants (and the Monstrous Size of Snakes)

During the Hellenic and Hellenistic periods a myth developed that

influenced many;164 it even influenced Palestinian Jews, who
composed a book titled The Book of the Giants. The myth relates how
in primordial times Giants (which are sometimes similar to the
Titans)165 fought on earth against the gods.166 The most impressive
depiction of this battle is found on the frieze in the Pergamum
Temple,167 which is exceptionally ornate because of the great natural
wealth and silver mines found there. Pergamum developed into one of
the most majestic and beautiful of the Greek cities. Her library was
second only to the incomparable one in Alexandria. The Pergamum
frieze featuring the Giants is now prominently and attractively
displayed in Berlin in the Humboldt Museum.168 Not all the Giants
were evil; some were good, namely Atlas.
The Greek name for these Giants is instructive, as are the words
derived from it. Note the following:169

Titan, Giant (usually in plural)

Giant-killer (Dionysus and Apollo esp.)
Titanomachia, battle between the gods and Giants

While the etymology of the Greek word for “Giants” is uncertain, the
connection with “Gaia,” the Greek word for earth, is possible.
According to Hesiod (c. 700 BCE), who along with Homer represent the
early Greek epic, the Giants were born from Gaia and the blood of
heaven (Ouranos).170 Also, evidence in favor of some etymological
connection between the Giants and Gaia, the Earth, is found in the
earliest compendium of this mythology. It is by Pseudo-Apollodorus,
who is a mythographer who wrote perhaps shortly before or after the
time of the Fourth Evangelist. Apollodorus’ account is very long
(comprising all of The Library 1.6); here is a selection:

But Earth , vexed on account of the Titans , brought forth the Giants, whom she
had by Sky . These were matchless in their bodies’ bulk and invincible in their might
… and with the scales of dragon-serpents for feet…. Surpassing all the rest were
Porphyrion and Alcyoneus, who was even immortal so long as he fought in the land of his
birth…. Now the gods had an oracle that none of the Giants could perish
at the hand of gods, but that with the help of a mortal they would be terminated.171

Note that the Giants and Titans are nearly synonymous by the early
second century CE. Thus, it is apparent that although some fifth-
century BCE texts indicate that the Giants are simply strong men,172 at
least by the first and second centuries CE the Giants are more than
beings intermediate between humans and gods; they seem more like
the gods. They are born in full armor and size, and they nearly defeat
the gods.173 Indeed, not only the earth but also the entire universe was
nearly destroyed. Thus, the Giants are like the gods; at least they
seem more like gods than humans.
Unlike the gods, however, they die. They are mortal (and not only
according to the opinion of Hesiod [frag. 43a]).174 In a Greek illustrated
manuscript they seem to be depicted with anguiepedes and are being
destroyed by serpents.175
What concerns us now is the depiction of the Giants. They often
have serpents as legs or feet.176 This iconographic depiction, usually
centered on the battle among the Giants and the gods, is found
throughout the ancient world. It is even depicted on coins.177 The
Giants have serpent feet that encircle the gods, rise up and bite them,
and fight against them in numerous ways.178 These depictions on the
Pergamum altar are monumental and majestic; they are on public
display in the Pergamum Museum in the Staatliche Museen in Berlin.
The anguipede Giants were also depicted in many other temples and
shrines, and on amulets, plates, and especially vase-paintings that
date from as early as 600 BCE.179
Thinking about “Giants” with serpents as legs may make sense in a
world unconquered and unexplored. What is beyond the boundaries?
Hence, it is understandable why the ancients imagined the
astronomical size of snakes or serpents. The boa does grow to
extreme lengths, and Aelian claimed that a certain Alexander, in his
Voyage Round the Red Sea, reported to have seen snakes “forty
cubits long.”180 That would be about 18 meters long.
Strabo (64/3 BCE-C. 21 CE) is far less reserved than Herodotus
(484?-c. 420 BCE), and he is no critic like Cicero (106–43 BCE). In his
famous Geography, Strabo reports on the size of serpents, and his
account borders on incredibility. Although Strabo is dubious of the
source, he still does not dismiss the possibility that there are serpents
that are even 140 cubits in length (15.1.28). An astounding report, to
which Strabo seems to subscribe, is found in Geography 16.4.16:
“Artemidorus also speaks of serpents [SpaKovtcov] thirty cubits in
length which overpower elephants and bulls; and his measurement is
moderate, at least for serpents in this part of the world, for the Indian
serpents are rather fabulous, as also those of Libya, which are said to
grow grass on their backs.”181 Strabo is serious. He has no doubt that
one can find in India, as some have reported to him, serpents that
swallow oxen and stags (2.1.9).182
Why did the ancient Greeks depict the Giants with anguipedes?
We can only speculate. They wanted to show how difficult it was for
the gods to overcome evil. The serpents were most likely chosen to
enhance the perception of the awesome and deadly power of the
Giants. They can thus overcome most obstacles, moving over land
and sea. They can engage the gods from all directions and administer
not only deadly bites, but also entangle the extremities of the gods.
Thus, to depict Giants with serpent feet was an apt way to present
such ideas.
We need to be careful not to assume that because the Giants
usually were perceived as evil and destructive, the serpents
consequently were always negative symbols. The symbol of the
serpent added positively to the ability of the Giants to engage and
almost defeat the gods. Thus, the serpent feet denoted agility, freedom
to traverse land and sea, swiftness, power, incredible and deadly
ability to wrestle with gods, and elusiveness in combat. Who would
want to enter a wrestling ring with an opponent who had cobras for
feet?
Perhaps the bizarre and trans-experiential dimension of
anguipedes added to the need to contemplate the transcendent
otherworldliness of the Giants. It would be rash to suggest the
serpents cannot denote evil in any way or that they depicted
something symbolically positive in the image of the Giants. Serpents,
after all, also denoted evil, sin, and the lie. Thus, the serpents in the
depiction of the Giants also signify something evil. Note the informative
words on this thought by Ovid. He imagined that the king of the gods
who was enthroned majestically, and perhaps above, castigates the
gods’ savage enemy, “the serpent-footed Giants [anguipedum].” 183

Hercules

We have already seen that one of the great men who conquered the
Giants was Hercules; he was the archetype of the sociological
category “the Great Man.”
Among the prominent symbolic uses of the serpent in Greek and
Roman culture, the legends of Hercules are prominent. Hercules
(Herakles), which means in Greek “Glory of Hera,” had to strangle two
powerful serpents at birth. These were sent to harm Hercules, the son
of Zeus (Jupiter) and Alcmene, the human wife of Amphitryon, by the
jealous and vindictive wife of Zeus, Hera.
His second labor at the command of Eurystheus (king of Argos or
Mycenae) was to kill the Lernaean Hydra, the many-headed water
snake. His tenth labor was to obtain the red cattle guarded by Geryon
who was aided by the herdsman Eurytion. The latter’s dog, Orthos (the
brother of Cerberus), was two-headed and had a snake as a tail.
Hercules’ eleventh labor was to descend into Hades and, with the help
of Hermes, to defeat Cerberus, the hound of Hell who had many
hissing and poisonous serpents accompanying him and protruding
from his body. His twelfth and final labor was to obtain the apples of
immortality from the Hesperides. As will become more apparent later,
he is successful and obtains immortality (momentarily) despite the
serpent that was guarding the tree (cf. Gen 3 and the Gilgamesh
legend). Finally, in the Hercules legends and myths, the serpentine
wandering river-god Achelous in struggling against the hero transforms
himself into a serpent.
While Hercules is never shown with anguipedes, he is often
depicted fighting Giants with feet that are serpents. Here is the
account in Pseudo-Apollodorus:

Hercules first shot Alcyoneus (one of the most majestic Giants) with an arrow, but when the
Giant fell on the ground he somewhat revived. However, at Athena’s advice Hercules dragged
him outside Pallene, and so the Giant died…. As for the other Giants, Ephialtes was shot by
Apollo with an arrow in his left eye and by Hercules in his right…. The other Giants Zeus
smote and destroyed with thunderbolts and all of them Hercules shot with arrows as they were
dying. When the gods had overcome the Giants Earth still more
enraged, had intercourse with Tartarus and brought forth Typhon in Cilicia, a hybrid between
man and beast…. One of his hands reached out to the west and the other to the east, and
from them projected a hundred dragon-serpents’ heads. From the thighs
downward he had huge coils of vipers , which when drawn out, reached to his very
head and emitted a loud hissing. His body was all winged.184

Observe the connection again between the Earth (Ge or Gaia) and the
Giants. Serpent symbolism plays a major role in depicting Typhon.
Note that from his hands projected one hundred dragon-serpent
heads.
Continuing with the story, we learn that the gods flee to Egypt to
escape Typhon. To hide from him they change themselves into
animals. Zeus, however, pursues him, albeit pelting him with
thunderbolts from a safe distance, and subsequently felling him with a
sickle. The battle ensues again on Mount Casius in Syria:
There, seeing the monster sore wounded, he [Zeus] grappled with him. But Typhon twined
about him and gripped him in his (serpent) coils, and wresting the sickle from him severed the
sinews of his hands and feet, and lifting him on his shoulders carried him through the sea to
Cilicia and deposited him on arrival in the Corycian cave.185

It is quite amazing what Typhon has done to Zeus, and how the
description of Zeus is so anthropocentric. Zeus triumphed in the end,
but only with the aid of Hermes, Aegipan, and the Fates.
The Greeks and Romans were fond of tales celebrating the heroic
exploits of Hercules. According to one of the stories, Hercules falls
asleep in the country called Scythia and his mares escape. He later
meets a woman who has two forms. Above her buttocks she was a
woman; below it a serpent . She retains Hercules until he enables
her to have three sons. Then Hercules departs, taking with him the
mares that the woman had sequestered.186

Figure 54. Left. The Babe Hercules Killing Two Serpents. Courtesy of the trustees of the
British Museum.
Figure 55. Right. A Standing Sculpture of the Babe Hercules Killing Two Serpents. Courtesy of
the Hermitage. JHC. Both sculptures Roman Period.

As one can imagine, Hercules looms large in ancient

iconography.187 For our focus on serpent symbols, it is imperative to
note how frequently Hercules is depicted with serpents. A sixth-century
BCE bronze statuette, from Doris, Greece, helps us imagine how
Hercules was perceived by the Greeks. He wears a lion’s skin tied at
the chest and waist with its paws. He is brandishing a club at a hydra.
It is a serpent with a goatee, and it rises up to about his waist.188
According to Pseudo-Apollodorus, when Hercules was only eight
months old Hera, incensed by her husband Zeus’ “infidelity,” tried to kill
the baby by sending into his bed two large serpents
. Hercules strangled them with his bare hands.189
This episode found a life in sculpture, seal impressions, vases, coins,
jewelry, clay lamps, and other ceramics. In artwork he is usually
depicted as a boy wrestling with one or more serpents, but in some
illustrations he is a well-developed man fighting monstrous
serpents.190
Hercules’ last labor was to go to the Garden of the Hesperides to
obtain a golden apple, which was the source of immortality. Ironically,
the golden apples were a wedding gift from Gaia, the earth god, to
Zeus and Hera. The tree was guarded by a large serpent. According to
the Theogony (lines 333–35), the serpent was the child of Phorkys and
Keto.191 The snake, however, was never given a name (neither was
the serpent in Gen 3). It is not clear how and in what ways Hercules
accomplishes this feat. In passing, it is interesting to compare this
legend with the lore that shapes the story of Gilgamesh and Genesis
3. All three legends or myths include the search for immortality and a
serpent. Clearly, the serpent was the quintessential symbol for new life
and immortality.

Figure 56. Hercules in the Garden of the Hesperides with a Serpent in the Tree [BM 827; Neg.
No. VI D 321]. Early Roman Period. Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum.
 Hercules is imagined fighting with serpents192 or with a hydra.193
On a Roman sarcophagus an artist has skillfully displayed the
sequence of scenes depicting Hercules’ exploits; the serpent is
featured prominently.194

Cerberus

Homer and Hesiod mention a mythological dog that guards the gates
to the underworld. Its name is Cerberus. It is depicted in numerous
ways. Sometimes it has serpents for tails. At other times it is shown
with serpents sprouting from a head or two heads, or with serpents as
paws. Cerberus’ mandate was to guard the gates so that no one left
the underworld. According to one version of the myth, Hercules
persuaded it to come out and Orpheus overcame it with music.
Another version of the myth is represented on a Greek amphora
from the late sixth century BCE. It envisions Hercules bending down to
pet one of the heads of Cerberus. Each head sprouts at least one
upraised serpent, and the tail is a serpent. Hercules has bewitched the
hound, since after petting its head he will enchain it.195 Another Greek
vase is generic; it depicts Cerberus with serpents on its paws and
elsewhere.196

Laocoon

We have already mentioned the Greek legend about Laocoon. Now,

we can dig deeper into this intriguing legend. Laocoon was a priest of
Apollo, but he offended the god by breaking his vow of celibacy. Apollo
then sent two massive sea serpents to crush him and his two sons,
Antiphas and Thymbraeus (Melanthus), as he, as was his duty, was
preparing to sacrifice a bull to Poseidon. The names of the two
serpents were either Porces and Chariboea or Curissia and Periboea.
Another legend, the one mentioned earlier in this book, indicates that
he was killed by a Greek god. Now we can state it was Apollo,
because he had warned the Trojans not to accept the Greeks’ gift of a
wooden horse.197
The classic source for the Laocoon legend is in the Aeneid by Virgil
(70#x2013;19 BCE).198 According to Virgil, Laocoon warned the people
of Troy to be wary of the Greek gift:
Oh, wretched citizens, what wild frenzy is this? Do you believe the foe has sailed away, or do
you think any gifts from the Greeks are free from treachery? … Either enclosed in this frame
lurk Achaeans, or this [wooden horse] has been built as a war engine against our walls [aut
haec in nostros fabricata est machina muros ], to spy into our homes and come down upon the
city from above. [2.42#x2013;47]199

Many lines later, Laocoon reappears. Notice how Virgil describes the
serpents:

Laocoon (Laocon), priest of Neptune [Apollo], as drawn by lot, was slaying a great bull at the
customary altars; and lo, from Tenedos, over the peaceful depths—I shudder as I tell the tale
—a pair of serpents with endless coils [immensis orbibus angues ] ascend out of the sea, side
by side, and make for the shore. Their bosoms rise amidst the surge, and their crests, blood-
red, top the waves. The rest of them skims the main behind and their huge backs curve in
many a fold; we hear the sound sent from foaming seas. And now they gain the fields and,
with blazing eyes suffused with blood and fire, lick with quivering tongues their hissing mouths.
Pale at the sight, we scatter. They in unswerving course speed towards Laocoon; and first
each serpent [serpens ] enfolds in its embrace the youthful bodies of his two sons and with its
fangs feed upon the hapless limbs. Then himself too, as he comes to their aid, weapons in
hand, they seize and bind in mighty folds; and now, twice encircling his waist, twice winding
their scaly backs around his throat, they tower above head and lofty necks. He the while
strains his hands to burst the knots, his fillets steeped in gore and black venom; while lifting to
heaven hideous cries, like the bellow of a wounded bull that has fled from the altar and shaken
from its neck the ill-aimed axe. But, gliding away, the dragon-serpent pair [gemini … dracones
] escape to the lofty shrines, and seek fierce Tritonia’s citadel, there to nestle under the
goddess’ feet and the circle of her shield.200

This story was well known by the end of the first century CE, when the
Fourth Gospel reached its second edition. The description of the
serpents awakens fear in the reader.
The story of Laocoon is also familiar today because it has become
a part of Western culture. One reason for the story’s popularity is the
well-known sculpture seen by millions in the Vatican. It was made
probably in the second century BCE by Agesander, Polydorus, and
Athenodorus, three Rhodian sculptors. It depicts in living marble
Laocoon vainly struggling against monstrous serpents.201 Another
reason Laocoon is well known today is the famous book by Lessing
about the limits of painting and poetry, which was entitled Laokoon:
Oder über die Grenzen der Malerei und Poesie. This monumental
work, which dates from 1766, attempted to distinguish between the art
of painting and the art of poetry, and concluded, somewhat
idiosyncratically, that poetry, unlike painting, had to do, not with
description, but with movement.
The depiction of Laocoon being destroyed by serpents was a
popular aspect of Hellenic and Hellenistic culture. It appears on the
murals at Pompeii in the Casa del Menandro and can be seen in situ.
Another example, also with the bull to be sacrificed in the background,
comes from the Casa di Laocoonte in Pompeii and is on display in the
National Museum in Naples.202 The symbolism here is rather
uncomplicated. The serpents are not necessarily demonic;203 but they
do appear to destroy and kill. Since they do the will of the god,
perhaps a double entendre is present: the serpents represent both
good and evil.

Glykon

Glykon is a serpent often depicted with a human-like face.204 He

appears on coins as a large upright serpent.205 Pseudo-Alexander,
whom we will meet in the writings of Lucian, claimed that the serpent
he saw was Glykon, a reincarnation of Asclepius. Sometimes Glykon
appears with Asclepius; he is depicted as the serpent with
anthropomorphic features.206 As the Greek name Glykon implies, he is
“the sweet one.” He is like the serpent often seen with Asclepius, but,
unlike that serpent, Glykon is shown with a separate personality and
with human emotions. Glykon, the serpent, is thus a positive symbol.
He is the personification or incarnation of the concept of health and
healing.

Medusa

We have already seen that the Southern Palace in the Hermitage has
images of Medusa on its fence. Who was she, and what is the
explanation of the serpent imagery?
According to Greek mythology a group of women—Stheno,
Euryale, and Medusa, all daughters of Phorcus—were divine and had
serpents as hair or in their hair.207 Frequently they are shown with
wings.208 They are depicted with the tongue sticking out (and even
with beards) and are usually unattractive; sometimes, however, they
are bewitchingly lovely. They are called Gorgons because occasionally
Gorgo is the name of a daughter of Phorcus. In the Aeneid, the
goddess tosses a serpent (anguem) at Alecto (one of the Furies
whose head is covered with serpents). The serpent entwines itself
around her, and finally its venom “courses through her whole frame”
(7.341#x2013;77).
The only mortal, and most famous of the Gorgons, was Medusa.
Perseus killed her by cutting off her head. Her head was impaled on
Pallas’ spear (i.e., Athena’s spear), and from her blood came Pegasus,
the winged horse.
How was Perseus enabled to behead Medusa? An answer may be
found in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Perseus beheads Medusa while she
and the serpents slept by looking not at her but at the reflection of her
in the bright bronze shield in his left hand (Metam. 4.782#x2013;86).
Why did Medusa have serpents in her hair? Again, an answer is
provided by Ovid. Note especially the explanation, by a guest to one of
the princes with Perseus:

She was once most beautiful in form, and the jealous hope of many suitors. Of all her
beauties, her hair was the most beautiful—for so I learned from one who said he had seen her.
’Tis said that in Minerva’s temple Neptune, lord of the Ocean, ravished her. Jove’s daughter
turned away and hid her chaste eyes behind her aegis. And, that the deed might be punished
as was due, she changed the Gorgon’s locks to ugly snakes [turpes mutavit in hydros ]. And
now to frighten her fear-numbed foes, she still wears upon her breast the snakes [angues ]
which she has made.209

Ovid seems to supply answers to questions that would have arisen in

antiquity.
The land of Libya is plagued by snakes. A myth explains why. Libya
is full of deadly serpents (angues) because as the head of Gorgon was
carried over Libya some blood fell to the earth and immediately turned
into serpents (Metam. 4.615#x2013;20).
According to Lucan (39#x2013;65 CE), the ancients—at least some
of them, probably the masses—believed the following about
Medusa:210

In her body malignant Nature first bred these cruel plagues; from her throat were born the
snakes [e faucibus angues ] that poured forth shrill hissings with their forked tongues. It
pleased Medusa [Medusae ], when snakes dangled close against her neck; in the way that
women dress their hair, the vipers hang loose over her back but rear erect over her brow in
front; and their poison wells out when the tresses are combed. These snakes are the only part
of ill-fated Medusa that all men look upon and live. For who ever felt fear of the monster’s face
and open mouth? Who that looked her straight in the face was suffered by Medusa to die? …
No living creature could endure to look on her, and even her serpents bent backward to
escape her face. She turned to stone Atlas, the Titan who supports the Pillars of the West.211

Thus, the accomplishment of Perseus, in beheading her, was

something astoundingly remarkable. According to Lucan, it was
Medusa’s look, not the serpents, that killed.
More women than the Gorgons had serpents in their hair. For
example, Tisiphone, with snakes covering her face, puts on as a girdle
“a writhing snake.” Then she, aided by the Furies, hinders the retreat
of both Ino (the daughter of Cadmus and Harmonia) and Athamas
(king of Thebes and son of Aeolus). Ovid’s account is remarkable:

And stretching her arms, wreathed with vipers [vipereis ], she shook out her locks: disturbed,
the serpents hissed horribly. A part lay on her shoulders, part twined round her breast, hissing,
vomiting venomous gore, and darting out their tongues. Then she tears away two serpents
[duos … angues ] from the midst of her tresses, and with deadly aim hurls them at her victims.
The snakes go gliding over the breasts of Ino and of Athamas and breathe upon them their
pestilential breath. No wounds their bodies suffer; ’tis their minds that feel the deadly
stroke.212

What could be the symbolism or function of depictions of Gorgon

heads, especially the head of Medusa? They could symbolize power,
magic, mystery, and fear of the gods. One of the main uses of the
image of the head of Medusa, or another Gorgon, with its horrifying
serpents was for protection, especially of one’s home. Thus, someone
put numerous faces of Medusa on the iron fence of the Southern
Palace of the Hermitage to keep unwanted people out and to protect
those inside.
This symbolic meaning goes back to the early days of Greek
mythology since Agamemnon had a Gorgon on his shield,213 and
vases often depict a Gorgon on a shield.214 Only two examples must
suffice here. One is the bronze relief from Olympia, which dates from
around 600 BCE.215 Another is a floor mosaic showing the head of a
Gorgon with ten menacing serpents squirming from her head. It was
found in Domus delle Gorgoni at Ostia Antici and dates from the third
or fourth century CE.216 Under the sad face appear the words Gorgoni
Bita, perhaps “flee from the Gorgon.”217 The mosaic is reminiscent of
one almost all tourists see at the entrance to a house in Pompeii: cave
canem, “Beware of the dog.”

Ladon

Ladon denotes the name of two rivers, one in Bithynia that is

often personified, and the other in Daphne near Antioch. The noun,
spelled the same, also denotes a serpent (called in Greek and
and in Latin draco ). The animal is usually much larger than a
human. It frequently has a goatee and more than one head, but in the
Imperial Period it has usually only one head. I have found no
iconography to support the claim by Pherekydes of Athens (fifth cent.
BCE) that Ladon had one hundred heads .218
 Ladon is the mythological sleepless serpent (insopiti quondam
tutela draconis) 219 that guards the golden apples in the garden of the
Hesperides. It is the creation of Keto and Phorkys, Typhon and
Echidna, or Ge; and, according to many sources, was killed by
Hercules.220
Ladon is depicted as a large serpent entwined around a tree and
protecting the golden apples (see Fig. 56). It is shown sometimes
drinking out of a bowl (a phial) held by a goddess (probably a
Hesperid). Frequently it decorates vases, and sometimes appears on
coins and in mosaics. It is shown in paintings preserved from Rome
(fourth cent. CE) and Pompeii (first half of first cent. CE).
What could this serpent symbolize? That it was placed among the
stars, after its fatal encounter with Hercules, would mean it could have
astrologi cal and heavenly powers.221 Ladon was able to guard (tutela
draconis) the golden apples because it never slept. It also emitted “all
kind of sounds” .222 Hence, it could be seen positively as
the ideal guardian; that was as important then as it is now. Its chthonic
powers might also be elevated as important for one facing death or the
meaning of life, since it derives from the earth .223

Aion

This Greek word denotes not only “an indefinitely long period of time”
(“eternity” in Platonic thought) but also “life” and “lifetime” and even
“age” and “generation.” It can denote also one’s entire life, one’s
destiny. Thus, the god Aion is a personification, actually a
hypostatization,224 of all these interrelated concepts, especially
“eternity” after Plato’s pervasive influence.225 Note the poetic passage
in Euripides’ The Children of Hercules (898–99):

For many blessings Fate fleetingly engenders,

With which Aion, child of Chronos, gives final completeness.226

For us the key words are “Aion, child of Chronos” .227 How
should one render this noun? The poem signifies that Aion denotes
one’s own lifetime, one’s own destiny, and especially the culmination of
it: “eternity” in many post-Platonic circles.
Chronos is sometimes depicted nude with a large serpent wrapped
around him, from the bottom to the top, with the head of the serpent
resting on the head of Chronos. An excellent example is the statue of
Chronos preserved in Merida.228
Thus, under the influence of Platonic and speculative Greek
philosophy, this noun developed from a concept grounded in this
world, “lifetime,” to an abstract concept, “eternity.” For Plato, Aion
denoted “eternity,” as is well known from his Timaeus 37d.229
Thinking about Plato’s dialogues awakens thoughts about time and
eternity. The very transience of “becoming,” in its very nature of always
being in the process of tending toward the elusive, is itself a mirror of
the eternal, the everlasting.230 We thus learn that for Greeks and
Romans, by the first century CE, Aion meant “Life and Eternity.”
Moreover, Aion was the offspring of Time (Chronos).
In Alexandria in Greco-Roman times, there was an annual festival
honoring Aion. It may have been a New Year’s festival. It was a
mixture of Greek and Egyptian ideas and myths. The festival’s high
point seems to have been when Aion’s image was brought out from a
sanctuary. It appears there was an announcement to the crowds;
perhaps a priest proclaimed that the Maiden (Kore) had given birth to
Aion.231
Aion is frequently depicted in antiquity as a nude male around
whom a large serpent is entwined, from ankles to shoulders; from the
male’s head the large serpent frequently looks down. Occasionally, the
large serpent is shown to the side of the god and curled upward
around an obelisk. Sometimes Aion has a beastly face, somewhat like
that of a lion. Occasionally, Aion is depicted with wings on his back.
The art appears on amulets, and in mural paintings in tombs (as in the
Isola sacra d’Ostie, tomb 57, from the end of the end of the second
cent. BCE).232
What is the meaning of the serpent in this inconographic
representation of Aion? The variety and different dates of this symbol
indicate that Aion reflects a multiplicity of concepts, and I think
predominantly good ones. The depiction of Aion with a serpent curled
around him, and in the center of a zodiacal circle, indicates that Aion
combined with the serpent is a very powerful positive symbol for time
and eternity.233 Surely, any reflection will be enriched by the following
discussion of Ouroboros. As that symbol represents completeness, so
Aion, as its name clarifies, symbolizes “Eternity.” The serpent is thus a
positive symbol that denotes the fulfillment of time. It also denotes the
cyclical renewal of time and the return to the primordial so-called
Golden Age (see esp. the cosmogonic mosaic in Merida, Spain).234

Ouroboros

We have already introduced Ouroboros. What more may be said?

Ouroboros is a Greek noun that means “devouring its own tail.” It is
composed of two Greeks words: the noun “tail” and the verb “to
devour” . The symbol is a serpent formed into a circle and eating
its own tail. This symbol appears in many places in antiquity, especially
on seals, drawings, and gems, and often in late magical papyri. One
attractive depiction of Ouroboros has the serpent with a dark beginning
and white tail with scales; the tail is almost in the serpent’s mouth.
Some ancient testimonies, namely Horapollon and Olympiodorus,235
indicate (probably correctly)236 that the concept of Ouroboros was
borrowed by the Greeks from the Egyptians. Within the circle formed
are the words “one [is] the whole” .237
Thus, it is clear what Ouroboros symbolized, at least in essentials.
It denoted, and personified, time, continuity, and the cosmos. Because
Ouroboros is a serpent with its tail in its mouth, so the symbol seems
to indicate the circularity of time and the movement of the cosmos as
complete.238
The cosmic dimension of Ouroboros is often overlooked, but not by
the author of one of the Greek magical papyri, who explains how to
make a small ring that will bring “success” :

Taking an air-colored jasper, engrave on it a snake

in a circle with its tail in its mouth, and also in the
middle of [the circle formed by] the snake [Selene] having two stars /on the two horns, and
above these, Helios, beside whom ABRASAX should be inscribed.239

The perception that Ouroboros denoted the completion of time and

the cosmos, or at least that the serpent symbolized the cosmos, at
times, in Greek and Roman mythology is enhanced by a study of
Ovid’s Metamorphoses. He occasionally mentions the constellation
called the serpent. Referring to the cosmic serpent or the constellation
of the serpent, Ovid has Titan advise his son, Phaëthon, about driving
the celestial chariot so as not to burn up the heavens or the earth and
avoid the “writhing Serpent (Anguem).”240 Subsequently, Ovid explains
that “the Serpent (Serpens), which lies nearest to the icy pole, once
harmless because it was formerly sluggish with the cold, now grew
hot, and conceived great frenzy from that fire.”241
It thus becomes clearer that Ouroboros did not necessarily denote
only repetitiousness or repetitive time. There was movement and
progression. While the tail ended up in the mouth, it completed the
circle of being because the tail had reached the mouth. The Ouroboros
denoted optimism and the return to the best of times. The ancients,
Greeks and Semites, seem to have shared the idea that the
beginnings were better than the present. Kiss rightly perceives that
Ouroboros is “a symbol of the constant cycle and in this sense
Eternity.”242 The inscription, “the One [is] the whole,” indicates more
than that the beginning is the end or the end is the beginning;243 it
denotes the harmony and unity of creation, especially the humans’
place within time and space.
Thinking of Aion and Ouroboros, and what they symbolized in the
various dimensions, leads to reflections on Henry Vaughan’s
perception that eternity is a “great ring of pure and endless light.”244
The serpent is thus a profound symbol, and it is a positive one. In all
these reflections, we need to be circumspect and not forget the odd
sensations we first had when we saw a drawing of a serpent
swallowing its own tail.
The Ouroboros may also symbolize something more. The tail can
resemble the lingam. The mouth can represent the mons veneris.
Hence, the Ouroboros, I am convinced, would symbolize for some
Greeks and Romans the completed human: the androgynous one (the
harmony of male and female).

Babi

Another serpent god is Babi, Sid. An image of Babi, Sid, was

discovered in the Antas Valley in Carthaginia. This image dates from
the fifth or sixth centuries BCE and is accompanied by the inscription
“To Sid, Babi, I dedicate 94 deniers.” The god is to be identified with
Pater Sardus. The serpent image symbolizes eternity.245
Figure 57. Zeus or Jupiter Enthroned. Roman Period. Courtesy of the Hermitage. JHC

Chnoubis

On magical gems a serpent figure appears; it is named Chnoubis

.246 The origin of the myth is Egyptian. In
Elephantine, from which so many Aramaic papyri have been
recovered, Chnoubis was hailed as the king of the first cataract of the
Nile. Note the report in Strabo: Elephantine “is an island in the Nile …
and a city therein … has a temple of Cnuphis 247 The
gems date from the second to the fourth century CE. One gem with
Chnoubis in the middle has written around its edges the names
Gabriel, Ouriel, and Souriel. On the back appears the name Adonai.
The first three are the names of the archangels; the back contains the
Hebrew name “Lord,” which is to be pronounced when God’s own
name (the ineffable Tetragrammaton) appears in a text, and in place of
it.
What does this serpent god symbolize? It is far from clear. Perhaps
it is associated with the Egyptian god Khnoum and has some solar
meaning.

Zeus

Zeus, the greatest of the Greek gods, is originally the god of the sky.
As Greeks wondered about the stars and the universe they accorded
more honor to this sky god. In the words of Dion Chrysostomos, Zeus
is “the giver of all good things, the Father, the Saviour, the Keeper of
mankind.”248
Zeus is often represented as having the features of a serpent. He is
frequently shown with a serpent, as in the sixth-century BCE Laconian
vasepainting of an eagle eating Prometheus’ liver.249
While Hermes is portrayed almost always with a caduceus and
Asclepius with a serpent wound around a staff, Zeus in not typically
shown with serpents. When humans turned their attention to the earth,
themselves, health, healing, and youthful regeneration, they elevated
Asclepius until he was virtually the supreme god; then Zeus appears
as Zeus-Asclepius.250

Apollo

Apollo, the god of music and poetry, is the twin of Artemis, the
huntress. He is the son of Leto and Zeus. Like Zeus, Apollo only rarely
appears with a serpent. Aelian (actually Aelianus; 170#x2013;235 CE)
reports a festival in honor of Apollo; it does feature serpents. The
account deserves reporting in full:

The people of Epirus and all strangers sojourning there, beside any other sacrifice to Apollo,
on one day in the year hold their chief festival in his honour with solemnity and great pomp.
There is a grove dedicated to the god, and round about it a precinct, and in the enclosure are
Serpents , and these self-same Serpents are the pets of the god. Now the priestess,
who is a virgin, enters unaccompanied, bringing food for the Serpents. And the people of
Epirus maintain that the Serpents are sprung from the Python at Delphi. If, as the priestess
approaches, they look graciously upon her and take the food with eagerness, it is agreed that
they are indicating a year of prosperity and of freedom from sickness. If however they scare
her and refuse the pleasant food she offers, then the Serpents are foretelling the reverse of
the above, and that is what the people of Epius expect.251

The account by Aelian raises many questions: What if the serpents

bite and kill the virgin? What if the serpents have already been fed, or
have not eaten in months? Historians and sociologists, as well as
others, would like to know if the account was taken literally and
believed, or if it is like the humorous watching of the groundhog’s
shadow in the United States.

Mithra

The worship of Mithra used to be considered only a military religion,

but now we know that Mithraites built shrines and thus worshipped in
major cities, including ancient Ostia and Rome.252 Originating in the
East, this religion was transformed in the Greek and Roman world and
became very popular. Mithra, the all-conquering sun god, is usually
depicted slaying a bull.
Sometimes Mithra’s struggle against the bull is aided by a dog and
a serpent (in other images they are both drinking the blood of the
bull).253 The serpent in Mithraism is thus depicted as passive or
active.254 It is often shown drinking not only the blood but sometimes
also the semen of the slaughtered bull.255 Serpent symbolism in
Mithraism contrasts with both the general Old Testament view of the
serpent and with Zoroastrianism in which the serpent is an incarnation
of the evil Ahriman. The devotees of Mithra perceived the serpent as
an assistant of Mithra.
The rejuvenating powers of the serpent would also have been
noted and found attractive to the followers of Mithra since they, unlike
the Zoroastrians, believed in a cycle of births, as we know from the
Avestan accounts and as Porphyrius reported (in De abstinentia 4.16).
Furthermore, it is certain that the serpent was a positive symbol in
Mithraism; it sometimes is associated with the zodiac and curls around
the two bears, Ursus major and Ursus minor.256 As S. Insler has
indicated, Mithraism in Italy and the West became primarily associated
with astronomy and astrology. These separate concepts in modernity
were not usually distinguishable in antiquity; that is, western Mithraism
was essentially an astral cult, “with its theology founded upon the
mysteries seen in the sky and their effects upon the course of time.”257
The connection with time, chronology, and serpent iconography will be
obvious to the reader by now.
That Mithraism was a threat to Christianity needs no
demonstration. On the one hand, the triumphant Christians destroyed
many of the Mithraea and forced them to cease about the end of the
fourth century CE. On the other hand, they co-opted the solar force of
Mithraism by assigning the birth of Jesus to December 25, the birthday
of Mithra. It is conceivable that another cult, one known as Deus sol
invictus—which celebrated the supreme deity the sun, had its zenith
during the reign of Emperor Elagabalus (218#x2013;222 CE), and
celebrated the “rebirth” of the sun on December 25—was even more
influential, at least at times and in some places, than Mithraism.258
One must be careful to focus on the time and place of possible
influence from either cult; Mithra, moreover, as Vermaseren shows,
was often identified with Saturn.259
Abraxas

Abraxas is a demon well known from early Christian texts. It is also

often found within Proto-Gnostic works and in Gnosticism. It is pictured
with a torso of a man, the head of a rooster, and two serpents as
feet.260

Asclepius

We now come to the Greek and later Roman god who more than any
other god is associated with the serpent. While serpents are
customarily shown with Hermes, they form a caduceus and usually the
serpents are only stylized. Asclepius (Greek: Asclepios, Latin:
Aesculapius)261 appears as a full serpent and is almost always
portrayed with a serpent entwined around his staff.
Asclepius appears first in literature as a human, and then he is
elevated to be a god. In Homer’s Iliad (2.729), which was written
sometime before the seventh century BCE,262 Asclepius is mentioned in
the catalogue of the Achaean army as the father of Machaon and
Podaleirios (Latin: Podalirius).263 Homer’s portrayal of Asclepius as a
human physician is altered by Hesiod, who refers to him as semi-
divine, or as a god.264 In fact, it seems that Hesiod is the first one to
refer to Asclepius as a healing god.
By 500 BCE, Greek hymns appeared celebrating a god of
healing.265 Asclepius, however, was not the only god of healing in
Greece. In principle, Greeks assumed that every god could perform
healings.266
According to legends, Asclepius dies when Zeus destroys him with
a thunderbolt because he had raised the dead (see Pliny, Natural
History ).267 In ancient lore antedating even Homer, Asclepius was
perhaps originally a deity—an earth deity or earth daimon—who
healed the sick. His two means were: first, dreams that informed the
one asleep of the proper means and methods for recovery of health;
second, incubation.268 The devotees (the incubants) performed some
rituals to purify themselves, then they entered the temple of the god for
periods up to more than one year. The object was to sleep in the god’s
temple and receive information, usually a cure, through a dream.
Incubation was especially central to the Asclepian cult. There were
Asclepian shrines or temples for incubation at Epidaurus, but also at
Cos, Lebene, Pergamum, Rome, and Smyrna. Peloponnesians had a
penchant for building an Asklepieion, as we know from a recent survey
by S. G. Stauropoulos.269
Clearly, the most important Asklepieion was at Epidaurus (see Fig.
59).270 This temple was magnificent. The setting is also remote and
relaxing. It is far from the commercialism of Corinth to the north, close
to the sea, and quietly nestled beneath some verdant hills. The temple
in Epidaurus was supported by plenteous springs and dense
vineyards; hence, Homer could call it ambeloessa, “vine-clad.”271 The
temple is only one of the many buildings in the vast complex at
Epidaurus.272
There were also monumental temples at Cos, Pergamum, and
Corinth.273 Devotees, especially when healed, left a votive offering,
usually in the form of the part of the body that had been healed,
ostensibly, by Asclepius: no tably a breast, a phallus, an arm, a leg, a
foot. The votive offerings do not come interpreted, and so we need to
admit that there is much we do not and cannot know. M. Lang rightly
points out this fact: “Although complete and parts of arms are very well
represented among the votives at Corinth, there is very little evidence
concerning the kinds of infirmity for the cure of which they were given
as thank-offerings.”274 H. Avalos corrects the view of the Edelsteins;
he is convinced that “doctors” in the Asklepieion did perform
surgeries.275
Most likely Asclepius was originally a man who, in the dim recesses
of history, was remembered as a physician and who became semi-
divine and eventually a full deity.276 As L. R. Farnell stated, this
deification of a physician is not so unusual; Im-hotep was once a real
Egyptian physician who came to be considered a god.277 As Pliny, in
Nat. 29.22, states, the Asclepian serpent (anguis Aesculapius) was
brought from Epidaurus, where it originated, to Rome. Kerényi
summarizes the most likely stages in the evolution of the Asclepian
myth:278

Flowering of the myth in Thessaly;

Before 1000 BCE
Asclepius is a physician and teacher
1000#x2013;600 Time of Homer and Hesiod
BCE
600#x2013;400 Flowering of the Asclepian family at Cos
BCE [Hippocrates]
500#x2013;300 Beginning of the flowering of the Asclepian cult in
BCE Epidauros
The Asclepian cult comes to Rome (the island in
291 BCE
the Tiber)
Our concern is not with the origins of the Asclepian myth and cult. It
is with the elevation of Asclepius to a full god, equal to Zeus, and the
Asclepian serpent iconography and symbology. The evidence for this
is abundant; note, for example, the ideas preserved on an Attic stone
from the second century CE: “O Asklepios … O blessed one, O God of
my longing…. Thou alone, O divine and blessed one, art mighty.”279
Long before the first century CE, when the Fourth Gospel was
composed, Asclepius was depicted with serpents as the god of
healing. Not only was Asclepius deified, but physicians, who were
unusually successful and thus revered, were deified as Asclepius.280
Celsus (fl. c. 14#x2013;37 CE), author of De Medicina, helps us
understand the evolution of the Asclepian myth. He wrote that
Asclepius was “celebrated as the most ancient authority” on medicine.
He “was numbered among the gods [in deorum numerum receptus est
]” because “he cultivated this science, as yet rude and vulgar, with a
little more than common refinement.” His sons, Podalirius and
Machaon, were not magicians or physicians who could heal all
diseases. As Homer stated, during the Trojan War, they were able to
heal battle wounds only “by the knife and medicaments.”281
Figure 58. A Statue of Asclepius with the Serpent Staff. Greek or Early Roman Period.
Courtesy of the Hermitage. JHC

Asclepius appears to the Greeks and Romans as a serpent.282 He

usually is depicted with a staff around which a serpent is entwined.283
This imaginative portrait of Asclepius dates as early as the fifth
century, and perhaps sixth century, BCE. Marcus Aurelius (Roman
emperor from 161 to 180 CE), though he was imbued with Stoicism,
occasionally thought of himself as Asclepius (actually Aesculapius),
and liked to be seen as a god holding a staff like Asclepius’ staff.
Asclepius is depicted with Telesphoros and with a serpent on a staff;
the work dates from the second century CE.284
Some guidance in perceiving the meaning of anguine symbols in
the Asclepian cult is provided by texts. For example, Q. Ogulnius has a
dream in which Asclepius appears; here are the pertinent words of
Ovid (43 BCE#x2013;17 or 18 CE):285

Fear not! I shall come and leave my shrine. Only look upon this serpent which twines about my
staff [hunc modo serpentem, baculum qui nexibus ambit ], and fix it on your sight that you may
know it. I shall change myself to this, but shall be larger [sed maior ero ] and shall seem as
great as celestial bodies should be when they change.286
Figure 59. The Asklepieion at Epidaurus. The Temple of Asclepius is in the foreground. JHC

Thus, the god of healing, Asclepius, was envisioned as a serpent by

the contemporaries of the Fourth Evangelist.
Originally at Epidaurus in southern Greece and then after he came
to Rome in 291 BCE,287 Asclepius became more and more a dominant
god who was needed each day for health and healing. For example,
one can think of the ancient retaining wall of Tiber Island. On it is
etched the bust of Asclepius with a serpent on a staff.288 Ancient
Greek and Roman iconography and literature habitually portray
Asclepius as a serpent.289
Tame snakes considered sacred were fed by devotees at the
shrines of Asclepius. From Athens comes an inscription that dates
from the time of the composition of the Fourth Gospel. Note the words
of the inscription: “to Asclepius: the celestial serpent of the gods.”290
The adjective “celestial” is almost as important in the history of serpent
iconography as “serpent.”
Worship and veneration of Asclepius were widespread in antiquity,
especially in the first century CE. The evidence indicates that by the
first century CE this “demigod” evolved in Western consciousness from
being considered a mortal to a half-god and finally to a full god,
perhaps the supreme deity. Clearly, in some centers of Western culture
Asclepius was the most revered of all gods. Asclepius was finally
identified with Zeus, and this belief seems to have been widespread in
antiquity. When one considers how the ancients desired good health
and yearned for healing against all forms of rampant illness, it is easy
to imagine the worldwide adoration of the god of healing.291 His
shrines and cult celebrations were prevalent in the Greek and Roman
world, especially, as we mentioned briefly, in Athens,292 Epidaurus,293
Cos,294 Pergamum,295 and Rome.296 Edelstein, in the magisterial
volumes on Asclepius, gives us a hint of the veneration of Asclepius:

Small wonder that the reverence paid him increased steadily, that his worship gradually spread
over the entire ancient world, that he acquired a position of preeminence. Asclepius truly was
a living deity, near to men’s hearts. It was he who now gave shelter to the more ancient gods
and supported their failing might; it was his festivals that were still celebrated when those of
other deities began to be forgotten.297

It seems no exaggeration to think that in antiquity no god was more

revered and had more devout followers than Asclepius.298 That is
important since the devotees in his cult elevated the positive meaning
of the serpent.299 The longevity of this cult is also noteworthy. It was
influential from about the fifth century BCE to the middle of the fourth
century CE.
The Fourth Evangelist lived in a cosmopolitan area and perhaps
wrote in one of the major cities (conceivably originally in Jerusalem,
and then edited in Ephesus or not far from Antioch). He and the
members of the Johannine community may have been influenced by
the depiction and adoration of Asclepius as a serpent. Since the
Johannine community, while primarily Jewish, included Greeks (see Jn
12), one may ask: Were any members of the Johannine community
converts from the Asclepian cult?
Is there any link between the use of “Savior” in the Fourth Gospel
and the celebration of Asclepius as “Savior”? This name is frequently
used for Asclepius,300 and “Savior” ( ) appears on numerous
coins that would have been held by the contemporaries of the Fourth
Evangelist.301
What then did the serpent and the staff symbolize in antiquity? In
De slangestaf van Asklepios als symbool van de Geneeskunde, J.
Schouten provides some thoughtful reflections. He understands the
Asclepian symbolism of the serpent to denote the following:

Originally it was an independent chthonical symbol of the ever renewing and indestructible life
of the earth. As such it was also the symbol of deliverance from disease, in other words: a
healing symbol. It should be noted that in the antique view of life it is by no means a symbol in
our modern sense, but rather an expression of direct experience of reality. [p. 184]
It is this in-depth indwelling of our phenomenal world that is so
essential in perceiving the meaning of serpent symbolism. The serpent
is of the earth and crawls on the earth. The snake does not pound the
earth as horses or as we do when walking. The snake also often darts
into and out of the earth.
What then does the serpent staff symbolize?302 Again, listen to the
reflections of Schouten: “From times immemorial the staff has been
the symbol of vegetative growth: it represented the everlasting life of
the earth in all its aspects; it therefore symbolized recovery from
disease, in other words: deliverance from death” (p. 184). The serpent
entwined around the staff symbolized what the human most required:
health, healing from sickness and injuries, and protection from death.
In antiquity, artists often showed Asclepius with a serpent around a
staff and a dog nearby. About 350 BCE, a silver coin was minted at
Epidaurus. It shows Asclepius with his right hand over a large serpent
and a dog curled up under his throne.303 A little earlier, an artist
created a relief in Epidaurus that showed Asclepius with a dog
between him and his two sons; quite surprisingly no serpent is
depicted.304 This iconography stems from the myth that Asclepius
when a child was guarded by a dog and as a god was accompanied by
a dog. In Greek mythology, the dog and the serpent were often
conceived in similar ways; they both represented the underworld. A
dog can represent a serpent.305
In an earlier chapter we saw a bronze of Hermes or Mercury. The
caduceus was held in his left hand. At his feet sits a dog. Excavations
at Jericho proved the supposition that the dog was the first animal to
be domesticated. In Egypt, the god Anubis appears as a dog. We have
seen that a dog was chosen symbolically to guard the portals of the
next world, the afterlife; it is called Cerberus.
In the Bible, dogs appear in a negative light. As R. de Vaux
stressed in his lectures on daily life during the monarchy, the dog was
the garbage man in Jerusalem and elsewhere.306 The hunter dogs so
familiar in Egyptian scenes and Assyrian lore are singularly absent
from the Bible. In the Old Testament we learn about pariah dogs.307 In
the New Testament, we hear Jesus warning about giving what is holy
to dogs (Mt 7:6), and a woman telling Jesus that she is willing to lap up
crumbs under the table like a dog (Mt 15:26#x2013;27). We also learn
that Lazarus is visited by dogs (Lk 16:21), that Paul uses the dog
negatively (Phil 3:20), and that the author of Revelation has dogs cast
out of the blessed city (Rev 22:15).
Although in Arab countries today the dog is shunned as unclean
because it is a scavenger, and although in Greek mythology the evil
goddess Hecate is accompanied by fierce fighting dogs, the dog is
almost always seen as a positive symbol in Greek and Roman
mythology.308 Not only Hermes and Asclepius had companion dogs,
but so did the saints, especially Hubert, Eustace, and Roch.309
Perhaps the dog represented the faithful companion of the human (the
viator on the eternal via ).

Figure 60. Hygieia. Greek or Early Roman Period. Courtesy of the Hermitage. JHC

Asclepius, the son of Apollo, was the quintessential patron of

physicians. One of his devotees may have been Hippocrates, the
father of modern medicine. Galen was devoted to him. The Hippocratic
oath, now sworn to by modern physicians, at least in the West, used to
begin as follows: “I swear by Apollo the healer, by Asklepios, by
Hygieia, by Panakeia and by all the powers of healing, and call to
witness all the gods and goddesses that I may keep his Oath and
Promise to the best of my ability and judgement.”310

Hygieia
Hygieia, the daughter311 of Asclepius “who is worth as much as all” his
other offspring,312 is often depicted on coins feeding a serpent.313 She
is the goddess of health and hygiene.314 It is from her name that the
word “hygiene” derives. She is often depicted with a serpent eating
from her hand or from a bowl that she is holding. This image appears
in statues315 and on coins celebrating her cult.316 Some of these coins
were minted at Tiberias during the time when Trajan was emperor
(98#x2013;117 CE), at Neapolis (Shechem) during the reign of
Antoninus Pius (137#x2013;61 CE), and at Aelia Capitolina in the third
century CE.317 Coiled serpents often appear on coins symbolizing the
cult of Demeter and of Roman emperors.318
Hygieia is depicted in Fig. 60 with a large serpent eating out of a
bowl in her hand (as is customary, it is her left hand). This sculpture is
superior to the ones I examined in the Metropolitan, British Museum,
and at Epidaurus and Athens. Notice the way the artist portrayed the
serpent as friendly and attractive. This example in the Hermitage in St.
Petersburg319 dates from the end of the first century BCE.
A marvelously sculptured statue of Asclepius with Hygieia and a
large serpent, winding up Asclepius’ staff, across his lap, to eat from
Hygieia’s right hand, is preserved in the Vatican Museum.320 It dates
from the Imperial Empire. A similar one is to be found in Turin, in the
Palazzo Reale.321 It is also from the Imperial Empire. Whether in
elegant works, such as the ones just mentioned, or crude etchings on
stone, Hygieia almost always appears with a serpent. As salus
(“health” in Latin) she is found in the famous Fontana di Trevi in Rome.
What is the meaning of this symbolism? Hygieia is not depicted
erotically and the serpent does not have phallic features or functions.
The serpent appears as gentle and affectionate;322 and when resting
on Hygieia’s bosom it is below her breasts and not evoking any sexual
overtones.323 Her gaze is away from the serpent and often upward.
Typically, as in the example preserved in the Hermitage, her gaze is
pensive and directed to something far off. Her association with
Asclepius and her portrayal in literature make it certain that the serpent
with her depicts health, the return to health, and one of the main
sources for healing. Thus, Hygieia is the goddess of health, and the
serpent is her symbol. Because she is an incarnation of health and
healing, so the serpent is a symbol of that incarnation. This insight is in
line with, but also a significant development beyond, what we
contemplated when working on serpent symbolism in ancient
Palestine, especially with Jericho’s “Elegant Bird Vase with Two
Serpents” and the incense shrines at Beth Shan.

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF SNAKES IN THE CLASSICAL

WORLD: GENERAL QUESTIONS AND CONSIDERATIONS

Snakes in the Greek and Roman Home

In many Greek homes, snakes were pets. This fact constitutes a

category outside of ancient serpent iconography, but it is important for
comprehending its setting. The snakes served to protect the house
from vermin, rats, and other undesirable small animals.324 In Roman
society, the serpent sometimes represented the paterfamilias (“father
of the family,” or the head of the house).325 Serpents are also
associated with the tombs of one’s parents. Indeed, in Virgil’s Aeneid
5.83ff, it is a serpent who accepts the food Aeneas left at the grave of
his father. Pliny in his Natural History stated that after the Asclepian
cult was brought to Rome a snake was “commonly reared even in
private houses [in domibus ].”326 The ancients played a came called
mehen, which means “coiled one”; the roundel, or game board, is often
carved with the face of a serpent that is coiled up.327 The game boards
have been found especially in Egypt, as early as the fourth millennium
BCE, but also in Crete, many Aegean islands, Cyprus, Lebanon, and
Syria.
Figure 61. Greek Vase Detail. Courtesy of the Hermitage.JHC

What Is the Meaning of Serpent-drawn Chariots?

An ornate sarcophagus is on display in the Archaeological Museum in

Basel, Switzerland. It depicts two large serpents in high relief and with
wings pulling a chariot in which a woman is standing. The woman is
identified with Medea.328 This iconography is also found, and in
stunning fashion, on the Medea sarcophagi on display in Berlin in the
Pergamon Museum,329 in the Museum in Ostia Antici,330 and in the
Thermen Museum in Rome.331 It is obvious now why artists often
placed depictions of serpents on sarcophagi,332 but why would one
depict serpents pulling chariots? Is this iconography not patently
absurd?
The answer is “no”—or at least not for the ancients. In antiquity,
others besides Medea were depicted with serpents drawing chariots.
These include heroes, gods, and goddesses (but no heroines as far as
I have been able to detect).333 Medea’s lover and husband who
betrayed her, Jason, also is shown in a chariot that is pulled by two
fierce serpents with beards or goatees.334 Aphrodite often appears in a
chariot pulled by powerful serpents.335 Tellus (a divinity that
represented the earth) is depicted in a chariot drawn by two
serpents.336 Paidis iudicium appears in a chariot pulled by two
serpents with beards or goatees.337 Amor or Cupid is chiseled on a
sarcophagus; she is shown with two serpents pulling a chariot.338
Pluto, with Persephone, appears on two sarcophagi; he is in a chariot
pulled by two serpents.339 Persephone is shown sitting in a chariot that
is pulled by serpents,340 and once she is with a caduceus.341 Ceres is
shown with two serpents drawing a chariot on numerous sarcophagi
and on a plate.342 Ianitor Orci appears in a scene with two angry
serpents with wings; they are pulling a chariot.343 From the Eleusian
cult we inherit a depiction of Triptolemus in a chariot being pulled on
the Nile by two strong serpents.344
A unique example of iconography depicting a god being drawn by a
creature with serpent legs or feet has been found in southern
Germany. The god is none other than Jupiter. The iconography
develops out of the myth of the Giants. Jupiter is sometimes shown on
his horse trampling a Giant. In other stone sculptures Jupiter is
depicted being pulled along by a Giant. Sometimes a Giant elevates
the horses of Jupiter with his hands or his serpentine feet. On
occasion, Jupiter’s horses and chariot are swept into the sky by the
heads of the serpents.345 The symbolic meaning of this iconography is
represented by the verbs “elevate” and “swept.” The massive stone
showing the serpent heads pushing upward on the lower chest of the
horses adds to the impression. Jupiter soars heavenward, employing
the mighty anguiepede Giants, and the power emanates from the
serpents.
The same anguine symbolism is celebrated in the Orphic hymns. In
particular, note the hymn to the Eleusinian Demeter. While Aphrodite’s
chariot is drawn by swans (55.20), the hymn to Demeter describes a
chariot drawn by serpents (or dragon-serpents): “You yoke your chariot
to bridled serpents” (40.14).
While the imagery of winged serpents drawing chariots is odd to
us, it was far from uncommon in antiquity, as we have already seen.346
Herodotus influenced many Greeks and Romans in believing in the
reality of such mythology when he reported the existence of large
serpents and serpents with wings. He wrote that in the western
sections of Libya are found monstrous serpents
[4.191]).347 He reports to have seen in Thebes “sacred serpents”
. He proceeds to Buto and then further deep into Arabia to
learn about “winged serpents” . His belief in the
existence of such creatures was bolstered by what he saw and heard:
lots of dead bones and the claims of the natives.348 Herodotus also
describes “small winged snakes of many colors”
in the spice-bearing trees that only in Arabia
produce frankincense and myrrh and other precious spices (Hist.
3.107). Herodotus also believes that vipers and winged serpents are
not plentiful because the female bites off the neck of the male during
copulation and then (as in retribution) the young eat their way through
their mother’s womb, killing her also (Hist. 3.109). Perhaps it was
easier for the ancients to believe in flying serpents of great size
because they, like us, have seen fish rise out of the sea and fly for
something like a hundred yards. When scuba diving off the coast of
southeast Florida, I remember seeing flying fish shoot out of the water
and skim speedily ahead of the boat, about 1.5 meters above the
surface.
Herodotus reports that the wings of these flying serpents are like
bats¸, but they are not feathered. They are like water snakes (Hist.
2.76). There is no doubt that Herodotus thought that winged serpents
could be found in Arabia, because in Book Three he makes the
following comment: “The Arabian winged serpents do
indeed seem to be many”; but whereas there are vipers in every
land, these winged serpents are only in Arabia and are not to be found
anywhere else on earth.349
Aelian also influenced the masses by his report that serpents did
have wings. Like Herodotus, Aelian claims one has to go to Arabia,
perhaps deep into the interior, to see the winged serpents. Note his
words: “The Black Ibis does not permit the winged serpents
from Arabia to cross into Egypt, but fights to protect
the land it loves.”350 When much of our earth was unexplored, myth
and legends helped to describe the animals and creatures that roamed
the mysterious regions.
What could this anguine iconography symbolize and why are
serpents pulling Medea’s chariot and not horses (oxen or lions)? Is it
mere ornamentation, or did the ancients believe there was truth in
such mythological symbolism? If there is meaning to the symbols, is
there a deeper meaning and, if so, what is it?
F. Cumont and A. D. Nock explored the meaning of symbolism on
sarcophagi.351 Both of them correctly pointed out, as the attentive
reader already grasps, that we cannot answer this question with logic
or our own modern presuppositions. Both scholars warned that images
and symbols were, and can be, copied without attributing any meaning
to them. But both experts chose, with variations of emphasis, to opt for
meaning in the symbols.
Yet we must be wary of assuming all iconographic images are to be
interpreted from the presupposition that the maker and buyer were
both interested primarily, or only, in some deep symbolism. The fact of
death, the loss of life, is commemorated in and on sarcophagi; that
does not allow us to assume epitaphs must contain a deep allegorical
or mythological meaning. The symbols on sarcophagi are silent, and
epitaphs may be fundamentally silent philosophically and spiritually. It
is we, the living, who bring voice and meaning to them. Hence, we
must be careful that we do not attribute our own ideas, or own
perceptions about antiquity, to silent monu ments. On the one hand,
we must be aware that no symbolic meaning may have been intended,
and, on the other hand, we need to be sensitive to the possibility that
metaphorical and allegorical meanings may be embodied in an image
even if we do not seem aware of it at the outset.
 It will not be easy to discern the meaning of the serpents pulling a
chariot. More than one meaning could and probably was intended. The
symbol most likely evoked a range of meanings. A symbol can indeed
point to verbal meanings. Perhaps an example of ancient iconography
cannot display meanings, but it may evoke reflections that stimulate
them. Symbols may even help one endorse meanings and values, at
least at times, by the reflective and educated observer. Since the
winged and upright serpents are often on sarcophagi, they probably
were intended to denote something positive, at least originally by the
one who devised the imagery.
The wings would denote the power, otherworldliness, and
elusiveness of serpents. Since they were attached to chariots depicted
on sarcophagi, and with images of Medea and Persephone, it is
apparent that life after death could be intended. Since Medea and
Persephone were seeking to travel to a world unknown to humans and
by a way unknown to us, a serpent seems the best guide. A serpent,
the wisest of all creatures (including the human?), can move over the
earth, through the water, and deep into the earth. With wings it can go
everywhere an ancient could imagine a postmortem world could be
located.
What did the ancient Greeks and Romans think about death? Was
it the end of life? Was there life after death? The Greeks and Romans
were not guided or limited by some form of orthodox revelation. Thus,
the views of most were unsystematic and often contradictory. Some
form of belief in existence after death was widely held.352 The most
ancient belief may be that the dead continued some form of existence
in the tomb and still felt needs that the family could supply. In the
Odyssey, Homer gave classic expression to the idea that the dead live
together in some subterranean (not in a sphere separate from and
beneath the earth) abode sometimes called Hades. The good and bad
live the same shadowy existence. Another thought is also found in
Homer and Hesiod; there is an Abode (or Isle) of the Blessed Ones. It
is situated somewhere mysterious on the earth. For some, Pindar’s
Olympian Odes contain the thought353

that immediately after death, on earth, it is the lawless spirits that suffer punishment … while
the good, having the sun shining for evermore … receive the boon of a life of lightened toil …
in the presence of the honoured gods, all who were wont to rejoice in keeping their oaths … in
keeping their souls pure from all deeds of wrong, pass by the highway of Zeus unto the tower
of Cronus, where the ocean-breezes blow around the Islands of the Blest .
[Olympian Odes 57#x2013;71]354
Benefiting from the insights of Homer and Hesiod, Pindar
(518#x2013;438 BCE), whom L. R. Farnell called “the first great master
of eschatological poetry,”355 has given us a glimpse into what seems to
be the Orphic theory of postmortem existence.
The Greeks and Romans also held many divergent ideas about
postmortem existence. By at least the sixth century BCE, the Eleusinian
Mysteries offered to its devotees a blessed, or at least happy, afterlife.
Apparently similar ideas were advocated by many Pythagoreans.356
The mysteries appealed to those who were seeking to experience the
sacred, but they did not promise resurrection or even immortality.357
The first to record the idea that souls after death entered something
like a celestial home may have been Phocylides;358 perhaps this is
one of the reasons why we have the Jewish work in the
Pseudepigrapha entitled Pseudo-Phocylides.
Plato never defined his concept of immortality, but he affirmed it
and somehow connected it to his teaching that the advanced (gold)
person receives good and is related to God. Aristotle and the Academy
rejected this aspect of Platonism; they were skeptical about any form
of postmortem existence. Epicurus flatly affirmed that the soul, like the
body, is composed of “atoms” (indivisible particles) that dissipate at
death. Some Stoics thought that the soul is immortal and partakes of
the eternal Divine Fire; others advocated some survival, at least for the
wise souls. The mysteries, like Cybele-Attis,359 Demeter-Persephone,
and Isis-Osiris,360 promised some form of blessed immortal life for
their initiates.361
Thus, we should avoid talking about a Greek or Roman belief in
resurrection,362 except for some of their gods like Persephone, Cybele,
and Aphrodite, but even here I would caution that the term
“resurrection” can be misleading, if not defined and carefully qualified.
For many Greeks and Romans—like many Jews of that time—there
was an afterlife, and another world. It was there that the soul would be
taken. The chariot was the means of carrying the soul to its ultimate
destination. The serpent—as the wisest creature in the universe—
would know how to take the soul to its heavenly abode or postmortem
existence. The serpents’ wings would provide the means of
transportation. Thus, these serpents could travel over land, sea, under
the earth, and up into the air.
This interpretation of the sarcophagi depicting chariots drawn by
winged serpents receives support from the Greek tragedians. The play
Medea by Euripides (c. 485#x2013;406 BCE) has the sorceress and
daughter of King Aeetes appear to Jason after killing her sons by him
(lines 1317#x2013;22). She is depicted above the palace’s roof in a
chariot drawn by serpent-dragons; the text refers to her appearance in
“such a chariot.” She is on her way to Hera’s mountain, to Erechtheus’
land (Medea 1379#x2013;84).363 This episode follows a discovery by
the Heroes on the ship Argo; they learned that the Golden Fleece was
guarded by fire-breathing bulls and a never-sleeping serpent-dragon
(the primordial guardian, as we have seen).
Our understanding of the symbology of winged serpents pulling a
chariot is enhanced by the observation that they usually appear on
sarcophagi. A passage in Ovid is also helpful. Stretching her arms to
the stars, and then kneeling on the earth in prayer, she says to the
moon (Luna ), and perhaps also the Night (Nox ), Earth (Tellus ), and
other celestial deities: “I have need of juices by which aid old age may
be renewed and may turn back to the bloom of youth and regain its
early years. And you will give them; for not in vain have the stars
gleamed in reply, not in vain is my chariot [currus ] at hand, drawn by
winged dragon-serpents [volucrum tractus cervice draconum ].”364
The reference to the moon brings to mind the connection between
serpent iconography and the moon. The moon, as well as the sun (as
is well known), attracted the fascination of the ancients. The moon is
conceived in terms of serpent imagery. According to Ennius’
Epicharmus, as well as the report found in Varro, the moon is called
“Proserpina” because it creeps “like a serpent [serpens ],” moving
intermittently to the left and then to the right, and so proceeding
forward.365
Having recorded the words of Medea, quoted earlier, Ovid clarifies
what happened: “There was the chariot, sent down from the sky. When
she had mounted therein and stroked the bridled necks of the dragon-
serpent team, shaking the light reins with her hands she was whirled
aloft. She looked down on Thessalian Tempe lying below, and turned
her dragon-serpents towards regions that she knew.”366
Earlier Ovid had described another dragon-serpent-drawn chariot.
In this passage, Ceres, the goddess of fertility, yoked “her two
serpents to her chariot [angues curribus ], and soared into the air that
is between heaven and earth [et medium caeli terraeque ].”367
As we have seen from the opening chapters, the serpent
represented reincarnation. By shedding its skin, it died to live again in
a new and stronger body. The scene of chariots drawn by serpents,
therefore, might also denote the journey of the soul to another human
body.
A search for meaning in anguine symbolism may be assisted by
reflections on the second-century BCE funeral stele from Smyrna. Quite
unusually, two scenes are depicted. The upper one shows the tearful
exit of the departed. The lower scene portrays a woman feeding a
serpent from a phial; the serpent is coiled around a tree, which recalls
not only the traditions about the Hesperides but also those concerning
Genesis 3.368 The lower image suggests the underworld and the
chthonic nature of the serpent, since the serpent can burrow down into
that region. The context, a funeral stele, indicates that there is some
concern, perhaps hope, for some further life after death.
Even more meaning might be represented by the winged serpents
pulling a chariot. It suffices for our present purposes to once again
stress that the serpent had a positive meaning in the ancient world. It
was clearly a polyvalent symbol.

Were Serpents the Quintessential Guardians?

Having discussed the Gorgons and Ladon and perceived how the
guardians in Greco-Roman antiquity are almost always serpents, as is
clear also in the Hymn of the Pearl, we come now to a famous
passage in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. According to the account, Cadmus
sends his attendants out to seek a spring of fresh-running water (vivis
libandas fontibus undas) for libation to Jove. They enter a primeval
forest and a cave in which dwells a monstrous serpent sacred to Mars.
When the “wayfarers of the Tyrian race” let down their vessels to
obtain “fresh-running water,” breaking the place’s silence, the serpent
springs forth. Thus, the “serpent [serpens ] twines his scaly coils in
rolling knots and with a spring curves himself into a huge bow.” This
account reminds us of Ouroboros, the serpent.
The attendants are all destroyed. The massive serpent, then, “lifted
high by more than half his length into the unsubstantial air … looks
down upon the whole world, as huge, could you see him all, as is that
serpent in the sky that lies outstretched between twin bears [geminas
qui separat arctos ].”369
Meanwhile, Cadmus, “wondering what had delayed his
companions,” seeks them out and finds them all killed by the serpent.
A ferocious battle ensues. Wounded by Cadmus’ javelin, the serpent,
coiled in huge spiral folds, “shoots up, straight and tall as a tree; now
he moves on with huge rush, like a stream in flood, sweeping down
with his breast the trees in his path.” The serpent is eventually killed by
Cadmus.370
The close relation between humans and animals is indicated by the
metamorphoses of Cadmus. Later, overcome with age and
despondency, he wonders if the serpent he had slain was a sacred
serpent (vipereos; cf.Metam. 4.543). He then asks that if he had been
a sacred serpent, the gods turn him into a serpent (et ut serpens in
longam). He is then turned into a serpent with scales. Note the
description: “He fell prone upon his belly, and his legs were gradually
folded together into one and drawn out into a slender, pointed tail. His
arms yet remained.” He calls out in horror to his wife: “Touch me, take
my hand, while I have a hand, while still the serpent [anguis ] does not
usurp me quite.” His wife bewails: “Where are your feet?” Then,
Cadmus, now a snake, curls up into his wife’s naked breasts.371 There
is some sexual innuendo here.
Another account, again preserved by Ovid, presents us with an
additional example of the motif and symbolism of the guarding serpent.
In preparing a feast for Jupiter, Phoebus instructed a raven “to bring a
little water from running springs” (tenuem vivis fontibus adfer aquam
[Fasti 2.250]). On this journey, the raven sees a fig tree filled with fruit,
but all of it was green. He waits until the fruit ripens and eats his fill. To
cover his disobedience, the raven brings a long water snake (longum
… hydrum) in his talons and tells Phoebus, “This snake caused my
delay. He blocked the fresh-flowing water (vivarum obsessor
aquarum), and kept the spring from flowing and me from doing my
duty” (Fasti 2.258#x2013;60).372
It is apparent that the guardian serpents should not be categorized
as negative symbols. They provide protection. In his Theogony,
Hesiod refers to a serpent that guards treasure (line 334: ). In the
Hymn of the Pearl, it is a serpent that guards the precious pearl. From
Sparta comes a relief showing two women sitting in an elegant chair;
behind them looms a large serpent with a goatee. The serpent seems
to be guarding them.373 I would agree with M. L. West’s conclusion
that in antiquity it is almost always a serpent that guards treasure,
especially in mythology.374
What then is the symbolic meaning of the guardian serpent? Far
too often it is taken as a negative symbol. The judgment lies in the
eyes of the one looking at the serpent. If you are seeking water or
some other thing guarded by a serpent, then the serpent would be an
impediment and perhaps evil in your eyes. But, if you wanted
something guarded, then the serpent is your best option. Note that, in
particular, the serpent that Cadmus and his attendants met was sacred
to Mars. Later, even Cadmus perceives, unfortunately too late for his
fate, that the serpent was “sacred.” The serpent that guards the
treasure may be sacred and a symbol of what is good and sacred in
the cosmos.
Cities did have serpent guardians. Guarding the city from plagues
or enemies is one of the functions of the serpent on the Tiber island
(Asclepius) and the serpent in Alexandria. Lanuvium, a city near
Rome, was imagined to be protected by a serpent. Finally, serpents
are depicted in murals at Pompeii as the protectors of the city.375

To What Extent Did Serpents Symbolize the Erotic?

The serpent is often employed to indicate or stress eroticism. The

depictions of Leda with the swan have already been mentioned. I
expected to find Satyrs with a phallus like a serpent. I did not. I did find
Priapus de picted with a serpent for a lingam, with two serpents below
him swaying to his music.376 The Silenoi are shown with erect
phalluses and kneeling by a tree. Two upraised serpents are portrayed
behind them.377
It is obvious why too many specialists assume the serpent in
antiquity denoted only, or primarily, the phallus and eroticism. They are
too uncritically influenced by the psychoanalysts Freud and Jung.
While these two geniuses made undeniably perspicacious insights into
human psychology and behavior, they did not discover the universal
key for discerning ancient symbols. It is impressive how many
sophisticated books have been devoted to Greek symbolism from the
vantage point of psychology.378
Attractive women depicted with serpents are understandably
symbols of eroticism in our twentieth-century culture, but they may
have had other meanings originally. Clearly, as we have seen, the
bare-breasted serpent goddesses, or priestesses, in Minoan culture
were not intended primarily to denote the erotic. Most interesting,
along these lines of reflection, is the necklace on Simonetta Vespucci
by Piero di Cosimo (1462#x2013;1521 CE). This famous portrait of
1480 contains an idealized image influenced by allegorical details and
with a live serpent entwined around a gold necklace.
I am persuaded that Western culture seems in the post-
Enlightenment Era to be especially interested in the serpent as a
phallic symbol. For example, the erotic serpent is depicted in fantastic
fashion by Franz von Stuck (1863#x2013;1928) in his Die Sünde, um
1912 that is on display in Munich (StuckJugendstil-Verein). It portrays
a vamp, partly nude, with a beastly serpent curling around her right
shoulder and above her right breast. Equally erotic is Gustav Klimt’s
(1862#x2013;1918) painting titled Wasserschlangen II. This picture
about “water-serpents” depicts the figures of nude women flowing into
serpentine shapes.
One point is necessary to emphasize. Too many specialists who
have studied the symbol of the serpent in antiquity begin with the
assumption that it is a phallic symbol. This is scarcely an adequate
description of the vast amount of data assembled here and extant from
antiquity. For example, Hygieia is depicted with Eros-Hypnos in
iconography dating from the second century CE, and she has a serpent
in her hand.379 But Hygieia is not a symbol of ancient eroticism. She
symbolized healing and health, and she appears in poses that are
pensive and reflective, but by no means erotic.

Were the Etruscans Enamored of Serpent Symbolism?

Before leaving an analysis of Greek and Roman serpent iconography,

it is imperative to scan the Etruscan evidence for the symbol of the
serpent.
The most important examples of Etruscan serpent iconography are
the following: a deity or demon, perhaps Gorgo, with anguine feet, is
preserved on a Greek bronze krater from the sixth century BCE.380
Also, protruding from under each arm is a serpent that is upraised and
looking ahead. The krater was found in a grave in Vix in Châtillon-sur-
Seine.381 Part of a chariot trapping has been recovered from Castel
San Mariano. It seems similar to the fourth-century Scythian gold
image of a serpent goddess that was designed for a horse’s brow
shown earlier; this one appears to depict a large serpent over a
woman between two lions that she holds by the throat.382 The woman
is probably Gorgo, the goddess of animals.383 Quite interesting is the
depiction of a sea demon with feet and legs in the form of serpents
and with upraised heads with goatees. It was found in Conca
(Satricum), near Rome. It dates from the fifth century BCE.384

How Did the Celts Employ Serpent Symbolism?

Similarly, the Celtic myths employed the imagery of the serpent to

portray danger. Note the following lament by the famous bard
Talyessin (Taliesin) who fears the invasion of Britain by the Anglo
Saxons (my translation):385

Eine sich ringelnde Schlange A once curled up serpent

Stolz und gnadenlos, Haughty and merciless
mit goldenen Schwingen, With golden wings
so koomt sie aus Deutschland. Soars out of Germany.

The Celts took from Roman iconography the figure of Mercury.

Several examples of Celtic images of Mercury with the caduceus are
seen throughout the world,386 especially in the Musée Archéologique
in Strasbourg. They date from the second century BCE until the second
century CE. In the example from the second century BCE, the two
serpents are clearly etched with eyes; on the statue are the words:
[M]ERCVR[US].387 A bronze Celtic Mercury was found in a cemetery at
Tongeren in Belgium; the statuette has three phalli, one in the usual
place, a second on the head, and one for the nose. These images
stress “potent fertility and good-luck.”388 Such meanings would apply
also when one saw Mercury with anguine iconography. In her
Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend, Miranda Green rightly points out
that the Celts endowed the serpent “with multifarious symbolism,”
notably, the underworld, water, regeneration, fertility, awe, and fear.389
In the fifth century BCE, Europe was torn by massive invasions. In
that century, the Celts settled in Gaul, near the Rhine, and eventually
reached Britain. This period provides us with one final example of the
serpent (or dragon) as the source of misfortune and danger. When
Julius Caesar invaded Britain, the ruling person was Cassibellawn. He
had succeeded Lud (Lludd) who founded “London.” This Lud lived
when Britain was plagued by a shriek that occurred each evening in
May. It caused men to lose their courage and strength, women their
children, and young persons their minds. It is said that animals, trees,
and earth were rendered barren. Lud’s brother, Llevelys (the king of
France), explained to him that the shriek was caused by the Red
Dragon of Britain because it was being attacked by the White Dragon
of the Saxons. Lud succeeds in subduing both dragons.390
Two bronze serpent-shaped clothing clasps, dating from circa 550
BCE, have been discovered. They belonged to the Celts, who left no
written records, and were found in a grave unearthed southwest of
Hohenasperb by Ludwigsburg. It was excavated in the 1970s.391 The
serpent-shaped clasps are, in fact, brooches that were found on the
chest of a prince, or some distinguished person, who received a
wagon-burial.392 The gold serpent brooches were deliberately broken
at the time of burial, which was a typical ritualistic custom in wagon-
burials. The golden serpent brooches indicate the high status and
social rank of the forty-year-old male who was buried. Serpents
signified and symbolized the exceptional social rank of the deceased.
Perhaps he was a “Great Man,” in sociological terms, and one who
through hero worship was deemed a demigod. Thus, serpents
sometimes did not signify a religious meaning; they denoted the
aristocratic status of a person.

What Other Ways Were Snakes Used Symbolically?

From the vicinity of, or perhaps in, Württemberg was unearthed the
bronze attachment to a horse’s bit; it dates from the preor early-
Roman Period. The bit is shaped in the form of an Omega with two
serpent heads.393 It is interesting to compare this bit with the Etruscan
and Scythian pieces already examined. Two bronze belts with three
gold serpents, two still attached, have been recovered; they date from
the first or second century CE.394 Clothing clasps are made, sometimes
ornately,395 in the form of a serpent.
Sometimes two serpents, at each end of a coiled clasp, look in
different directions, in a Janus-like pose; other times they face in the
same direction.396 On the right side of the majestic Roman grave
monument of L. Poblicius, as one faces it, is a magnificent portrait of
Pan. Behind him is a tree around which is wrapped a large serpent, in
an iconographic motif virtually identical to that which symbolizes the
tree and serpent in the Garden of Eden. The whole monument is
impressively displayed to the public in the Römisch-Germanisches
Museum in Cologne.397
As the toga signaled that the wearer was a Roman citizen, so
costly and well-crafted jewelry signified that the bearer, usually a
woman, was one of the elite and was to be accorded the requisite
honor and respect. Our historical imaginations of what the Egyptians,
Greeks, and Romans looked like, especially in public and in official
dress, are guided by frescoes, sculptures, mummies, and written
descriptions.398
Earlier we focused on the gold bracelets found in Pompeii and
elsewhere; now we can explore how serpent iconography and
symbology revealed one’s high status. Elegant gold bracelets were
discovered beside the skeleton of a woman who was felled by the
volcanic eruption of Vesuvius in 79 CE. She was found with something
cherished beside her: two intricately crafted gold bracelets; perhaps
she had chosen these as prized possessions to take with her into the
frightful and fateful night.399 Each bracelet or armband ends with a
serpent’s mouth; it is uniquely open and the teeth are exposed. Each
serpent’s eye is also highlighted.
Most likely she customarily wore one of the gold serpents on each
arm. They would have accorded her status. Perhaps the serpent
jewelry would have been her only proof of status later, if she had
succeeded in escaping the inferno. Serpent-shaped jewelry, especially
a ring or a bracelet, was often worn by the upper classes in Greek and
Roman times.
Silver serpent rings were also found in Pompeii dating from the
early or middle decades of the first century CE.400 A less elaborate
serpent ring was found, for example, in Backworth in Northumberland,
and refined serpent jewelry was found at Llandovery. All are from the
Roman Period, and not far in date from the composition of the Gospel
of John.401
The third-century CE Roman bath in Kreuznach contains a mosaic
of the ocean. In it there is a large dragon-serpent. Serpents often
appear in mosaics depicting the world of the gods.

Did Some Deities Lack Serpent Iconography?

Not all Greek, Roman, Etruscan, and Celtic gods are associated with
the serpent or shown anatomically with serpent features. For example,
I have failed to find a depiction of Venus with a serpent. Beginning with
the end of the second century BCE, there were twelve gods in Rome.402
According to a distich attributed to Ennius (second cent. BCE), they are
the following: Juno, Vesta, Minerva, Ceres, Diana, Venus, Mars,
Mercury, Jupiter, Neptune, Vulcan, and Apollo.403 Many of these, but
not all of them, as we have seen, were associated with serpents or
were creatively portrayed in anguine form. For example, allegedly from
the Diana Temple in Ephesus comes a bronze figure. Diana’s deer is
shown with a lamb about to suckle from her. Coiled around the neck of
the sheep is a serpent with a triangular head (see Fig. 81).404
Again, while there is abundant evidence that the serpent
symbolized something good in ancient culture, one needs to examine
all the evidence and seek to be balanced. The serpent also
represented a negative symbol. Aelian, for example, records the
folklore that assumes a serpent originates from the spine of a wicked
man when dead (Nat. an. I.51).405

Were Venomous Snakes Milked in Antiquity?

The information assembled draws attention to the suggestion by

Farnell that the data frequently reveal “the bias of mystic symbolism
towards theriomorphism”406 —that is, becoming like a god. Since the
god or goddess was conceived to be in the form of an animal, often a
serpent, the votary, seeking to be one with the deity, either emotionally
or entirely, sought to be one with the god imagined or experienced. As
the god or goddess became a serpent, so the devotee became the
god, or sought to become one with the god. As one became one with
Bacchus by becoming intoxicated, so one became one with Asclepius
by descending into the subterranean chambers in which live snakes
would be “bosom companions.”
Yet the search for the meaning and symbolism of the serpent in the
first century is not yet complete. Were snakes milked in antiquity for
their venom? And, if so, how was the venom used? Venomous snakes
were indeed milked in antiquity, as they are today. The ancients
obtained the serum necessary to heal various diseases and to provide
an antidote to a venomous snake bite.
In De natura animalium, Aelian reports the legends about the so-
called purple snake of India. It has no fangs, but can be deadly when it
“vomits,” even causing entire limbs to putrify (4.36). When the extract
from such a snake is properly selected and prepared, it prolongs the
lives of many for up to two years (4.36).407
Flavius Philostratus (c. 170#x2013;c. 248 CE) in his Life of
Apollonius, which was composed about 220 CE, describes how
physicians learned from Asclepius. This son of Apollo taught them to
extract venom from serpents in order to cure many diseases. Note the
following section:

And who [he said] can deprive the art of divination of the credit for discovering serums which
heal the bites of venomous creatures and in particular of using the venom itself as a cure for
many diseases? For I do not think that humans without the assistance of prophetic wisdom
would ever have ventured to mix with medicines that save life these most deadly venoms.408

This insightful account surely represents what many people, from the
highly educated to the rustic peasant, believed and experienced during
the first century CE. There is no reason to doubt that the members of
the Johannine community knew about the use of venom to heal
diseases. This insight adds another significant dimension to the
mythology and ideology that surrounded the symbol of the serpent in
antiquity. It is imperative that the exegesis of the New Testament be
informed by such discoveries and insights.

SANCHUNIATHON: THE HOLIEST BEING IS THE

SERPENT
Philo of Byblos, who wrote at the end of the first century or the
beginning of the second century CE, claims to translate from a work by
a certain Sanchuniathon. This author may have been a historical
person or he may be only a creation of Philo of Byblos.409 For us the
issue is not relevant. What is important is his symbolism and his
ideology. Philo of Byblos wrote a long work devoted to snakes or
serpents.410 It is a major source to study as we seek to comprehend
the culture in which the symbolism of the Fourth Gospel was
fashioned.411 Reference is made to the “divine nature of the serpent
and snakes; this animal is ‘fiery and the most filled with breath of all
crawling things.’ The creature has matchless swiftness by means of its
breath [sic ].”412 Note how important for an understanding of serpent
symbolism the following excerpt from Philo of Byblos is
(814.23#x2013; 815.13):

The nature there of the snake and of serpents , Taautos himself

regarded as divine, and after him, again, the Phoenicians and Egyptians [did so]. For he
presented the animal as that of all the reptiles which contained most spirit and as being [of the
nature] of fire. Besides which he also attributes to it unsurpassable swiftness on account of the
spirit, since it lacks feet and arms or any other limbs by means of which the other animals
move…. And it is most long lived, for it not only sheds its old skin and becomes young but also
it is increased [by the process] and becomes bigger. And when it has filled out the established
measure [of age] it consumes itself, just as Taautos himself described in the sacred writings.
Therefore, too, this animal is taken into the temples and mysteries. It has been discussed by
us more fully in the treatise entitled Ethothion, in which it is established that the snake is
immortal and that it is resolved into itself as was said above. For the nature of
this animal is such that it does not die unless it is struck by some violent force. The
Phoenicians call it Agathos Daimon.413

These comments have been reserved until this point in the

presentation of our discoveries. Many of our earlier insights and
suggestions were judiciously informed and based on such clear insight
into the complex meaning of ancient serpent symbolism. Here we have
proof, in clear prose, that the snake contained the most spirit and fire
of all reptiles, lacks feet (contrast some depictions of snakes with feet),
lives the longest of all reptiles, and regains its youth each time it sheds
its skin. In fact, the snake is immortal; it does not die unless it is hit the
way Hercules pounded it.
Philo of Byblos continues by quoting Epeeis, who claims that the
“first and holiest being is the serpent which has the form of a falcon
and is very pleasing” (815.18).

SUMMARY
We have now been able to establish the first three criteria specified in
the introductory chapters: (1) The serpent or snake is clearly often a
good symbol in world cultures. (2) The serpent was admired in
antiquity especially in Old Testament times and the Second Temple
Period. (3) The serpent was appreciated in the Greek and Roman
periods, especially before and during the time that the Fourth Gospel
was composed and edited.
What is the most important or prevalent meaning of the serpent in
the Greek and Roman periods? Any answer would depend on when
and where one focused one’s attention. Throughout “the known world”
(and even elsewhere, in Mexico and South America, as well as among
the Native Americans at that time, for example) the serpent frequently
denoted health, healing, and the hope of a new and better life. The
supreme example is in the pervasive Asclepian cult.
A thorough survey of serpent symbolism needs to move behind the
symbolic and religious categories and seek to penetrate the world in
which such symbols and religious motifs were given life. Perceiving
how important religious symbolism was in antiquity, we need to grasp
that the serpent was also a friend, like the dog in American homes
today. As Pliny states in his Natural History, the Greeks and Romans
often had serpents as household pets: “And a snake is commonly kept
as a pet even in our homes.”414
It has become clear that ophidian or anguine symbolism was
prevalent in the ancient Greek and Roman world. These symbols were
on statues and friezes in public buildings and temples and even in
private homes. They circulated throughout the Levant and elsewhere
and were often worn as jewelry. For example, in the fourth century BCE
the two dominant armies and cultures were Persian and Greek, yet
each stressed the symbolism of the serpent. Two silver bracelets have
been recovered, but not published until now.415 One is Persian and
shows two serpents, with triangular heads, looking at each other at the
point at which the circle would have been completed. Another silver
bracelet is Greek. It is more delicate and refined, but again the circle is
open so that two serpents, with protruding eyes, can look at each
other. Both bracelets are from the fourth century BCE and before the
defeat of the Persians by Alexander the Great, with the Persian one
conceivably slightly earlier. As one studies the two bracelets with
ophidian images, one is impressed at the common culture shared by
Persians and Greeks.
The bracelet on the left in Fig. 62 is Greek; the one on the right is
Persian. Observe that in each ophidian object the eyes of the animal
are highlighted. It is significant that two artists, one each from two
warring cultures, chose the serpent for a symbol. Both pieces of
jewelry indicate snakes or dragons at the end of each circle. What do
the animals signify? We now know the serpents are not merely
decorations. They may symbolize or evoke thoughts about Ouroboros,
the caduceus, and perhaps something more.

Figure 62. Two Silver Serpent Bracelets. JHC Collection

 The bronze ladle in Fig. 63 was found in the Levant.416 It most
likely dates from the early Roman Period. Numerous examples of this
type of ladle are found in world-class museums. Large bowls of wine
mixed with water were served by the host or an attractive slave. The
ladle was used to convey the drinks to the guests. No ladle that I have
seen has a serpent on the curved upper part. The animals on the
handle are usually ducks or deer. The present example clearly shows
a serpent. No ears are indicated, and the eyes and face are those we
have already seen numerous times.

Figure 63. Bronze Ladle (and detail at left). Roman Period. Levant. JHC Collection

An approximation of what the symbol of the serpent might have

denoted, at least to some ancient Greeks and Romans, and at least
sometime during their lives, might be surmised by looking at the
features given to the serpents in the virtual myriad of realia from
antiquity. The wings denote the serpents’ swiftness, mobility, and
elusiveness. As W. Burkert claims, the serpents symbolize what is
“ubiquitous and unassailable.”417 The serpent sometimes has a large
mouth, pricking the fear of humans who in primordial times lived with
the anguish that they might be swallowed whole (like Jonah) or
devoured by a dragon-serpent beast. The goatee or beard probably
denoted that the serpent was wise and cunning. The anguinepedes of
the Giants and other creatures denote their ability to be elusive as well
as to skim over all surfaces, earth and water. Reflection on this
symbolic meaning is enhanced by Cicero’s remark in De natura
deorum. He asserts that serpents born on land immediately take to the
water, like sea turtles (2.124).418
Symbolism can be abused, especially when it is within the realm of
religion or spirituality, as it was surely in the Hellenic and Hellenistic
Period. There were charlatans who made a profit from the odd mixture
of gods and serpents.
Alexander of Abonuteichos (fl. c. 150#x2013;70 CE) is little known,
except in the emotionally distorting satire of Lucian. According to
Lucian, he “became the most perfect rascal of all those who have been
notorious far and wide for villainy.”419 Lucian thus names the arch
villains, but each pales in comparison with Alexander. This false priest
of Asclepius played on the fears of the masses. He manipulated their
need to believe in myths. He provided what they wanted (but not what
they needed). For a meager sum, Alexander purchased a serpent from
Pella where there were many “immense serpents”
that were tame and gentle. He had a devious plan.
With another charlatan, Alexander would masquerade under the
guise of representing the two great tyrants of humans: hope and fear.
They founded “a prophetic shrine and oracle.” They schemed to
become prosperous and rich. In the temple of Apollo in Chalcedon
they buried bronze tablets “which said that very soon Asclepius, with
his father Apollo,” would live in Abonuteichos. Before his companion
died, perhaps from the bite of a viper, he and Alexander had
constructed “a serpent’s head of linen, which had something of a
human look, was all painted up, and appeared very lifelike. It would
open and close its mouth by means of horsehairs, and a forked black
tongue like a snake’s, also controlled by horsehairs, would dart out.”
Subsequently, Alexander secretes a goose egg in which he had
hidden a newly born snake in the foundation of a temple being built in
expectation of the appearance of Asclepius and Apollo. Naturally, the
next day he causes a disturbance and exposes the egg and the
serpent. He then proclaims that he held Asclepius in his hand. He
takes the god to his home, before the watchful eyes of the crowds.
When, some days later, the crowds come to his home, he lets them
see him sitting with the immense snake from Pella, hiding only the
head. The head that the crowd saw was the one made of linen. The
crowds believed in a miracle, since in so short a time a tiny serpent
became an immense serpent “with a human face.” Not only the
ancients who read Lucian would have denounced the pseudoprophet
of Asclepius. Most would have known he was an imposter. Thus, they
would have continued to honor, adore, and worship Asclepius and his
“true prophets.”

CONCLUSION

This survey has highlighted serpent symbolism in numerous cultures,

from Minoan Crete to Asclepian Epidaurus. We have learned that the
serpent appears to have been the most complex and pervasive symbol
in antiquity. It not only denoted evil but also, and primarily, symbolized
good. It dominated especially in the Asclepian cult.
When Christianity became the dominant political force, beginning in
the early fourth century CE, it was empowered to relegate other
religions. Then, many former positive symbols were demoted to a
negative connotation and denotation.420 Constantine the Great banned
most magicians because “paganism” was still deep in his court and
army. He thus forbade maleficent magic, but permitted medical and
agricultural magic.421 His edict against pagan sacrifice on 17
December 321 was a prolegomenon to the universally observed
Theodosian Code of 438, which proscribed any sacrifices to pagan
deities.422
Although, there were some intellectuals, like Porphyry
(232/33#x2013;305CE), who perceived the daimones to be evil,423 “the
demon” was usually considered good in Hellenic, Hellenistic, and
Roman society. Socrates (469#x2013; 399 BCE) claimed that a good
“demon” played a major role in his life. He contended that the voice
that had guided him since his youth was a divine demon (
).424 Plato, Xenophon, and Aristophanes attested that
Socrates was under the power of “a demon”; that is, a good spirit. K.
Kleve examines the evidence and concludes that Socrates thus should
be seen not as an intellectual but a religious figure.425
Tertullian (c. 160#x2013;c. 240 CE), as a Christian, could abide by
none of this. He thus declared that Socrates did have a demon, and
that it was evil.426 This kind of damnation is what one might expect
when a religion moves from a Jewish, prophetic, charismatic Jesus, to
a Carthaginian lawyer who has mastered every rhetorical device,
castigates his adversaries relentlessly, and writes works that usually
begin with the prefix “Anti.” With Tertullian’s lead, Christians “baptized”
the demon as only “demonic.” The sad and misrepresentative claim
that only through Christ can one reach God, or know anything about
God, so typical of Tertullian (Cui deus cognitus sine Christo ? [De
Anima I.4), has fortunately been left behind as archaic in modern
missiology.
In Greek and Roman antiquity, Orpheus is often seen with harp and
with all the animals, including the serpent.427 When the Christians
copied this image, they frequently omitted the serpent from the
picture.428 Likewise, the serpent became eventually portrayed as evil
and as Satan, as we saw at the outset.
Before the birth of Christianity, the lion and the serpent both
represented kingship, power, and divinity. After 325 CE the iconography
was reinterpreted. The serpent denoted evil, and the lion was there to
kill it. As E. R. Goodenough stated in his Jewish Symbols in the Greco-
Roman Period, when a woman appears with a serpent or as a serpent
on amulets,

her association with a snake, or the fact that a snake can take her place altogether, indicates
that the design may have represented, at least for some people, the warfare of spirit versus
flesh, since for both Philo and many early Christians the snake of Eden, Eve, and woman in
general, interchangeably symbolized sexual pleasure, and thereby fleshly pleasure par
excellence. That the destruction of this, or victory over it, is the essence of salvation and the
chief work of the Christian savior is an idea which, while not “official,” was always, as it still is,
widely current. From this point of view it is indifferent whether the cavalier, or St. George, kills
a woman, a snake, or both.429

In summary, we have explored how ophidian or anguine symbolism

was pervasive in the Greek and Roman world. The serpent as symbol
was also widely appreciated in Persia, Egypt, and elsewhere. The
serpent denoted not only evil and death but also, and more
prevalently, good and life, as well as other positive meanings,
especially, health, healing, and rejuvenation.
It is not easy to ascertain the various meanings of an ophidian or
anguine symbol. We have acknowledged the need not to delimit the
possible meanings of serpent symbolism and not to read our own
concepts into it. A serpent might represent a threat or danger, but it
also—more likely—denoted a goddess or some concept such as
divinity, life, health, healing, beauty, and new life. The artist might have
chosen one or several meanings. The one who purchased the symbol,
or those who saw it, were free to add additional meanings to the
iconography. The symbol might have meant at the same time
something evil and something good. Serpent iconography, as indicated
previously, often confronts us with a possible double entendre.
One final word needs to be said regarding serpent symbolism and
ancient culture. By the time of Socrates, the masses yearned for any
god; their need for a relationship with a god did not wane when the
gods of Olympus failed to meet their needs. The one remaining god of
influence was the one whom they had experienced and who provided
health, healing, and a promise of a renewed life.430 That god was
Asclepius, who was symbolized with or as a serpent. Did not the
intellectuals, even some skeptics, feel his gravitational pull? What
about the great philosophers? Recall the last words of Socrates, as his
body lost its warmth: “Crito, I owe a cock to Asclepius; will you
remember to pay the debt?”431
 The Full Spectrum of the Meaning of
5
Serpent Symbolism in the Fertile Crescent
The study of the symbolic meaning of John 3:14—and other biblical
texts with ophidian symbolism—benefits from reflections on serpent
symbolism. This perspective must be extended to include all world
cultures and encompass all images and texts from prehistoric times.1
The preceding analysis proves that the snake, serpent, and dragon
constitute one complex symbology that is a prevalent and pervasive
theme. We have traced serpent symbolism from at least 40,000 BCE
and in mythologies on all continents.2
Recently, carvings of snakes on rocks near Mitzpeh Ramon and
the Adid mountain (or Karkom) in southern Israel have been found.
They are clearly ancient works of art, maybe tens of thousands of
years old, but the meaning of the serpent images is presently
unknown.3
A fascination with the serpent is a common dimension of human
consciousness and expression. This commonality is most likely not so
much due to influences of one culture on another or to some
unfathomed and primordial structuralism. It results from the shared
commonality of all humans. Recently, a group of hikers in Zion
National Park, Utah, confronted by a large and rather handsome
rattlesnake, tended to concur with a timeless and boundless
sentiment: “That is so cool! I’ve never seen one of these things outside
a zoo before.”4
We have seen the image of the serpent often mixed with human
features or with those of other animals. Despite the claims of
misinformed professors,5 some snakes have legs, physically and
iconographically (see Fig. 27). A serpent may be imagined with ears
and a bird’s beak.6 The serpent appears as the tail of a dog or a lion,
and as part of a lion or bull. The snake, realistically or with mythic
features, also appears as a monster. Men and Giants are widely
shown with anguipedes. An Egyptian god, Bes, appears ithyphallically;
and the phallus is sometimes a snake. The serpent is upraised to form
the uraeus, shaped into a circle to make the Ouroboros, and depicted
face-to-face with another snake to constitute the caduceus.7 The
serpent can become a staff, be part of a branch or a tree, or encircle a
branch or a tree.
 When did serpent images first appear in the Levant? Sha’ar
Hagolan covers 30 hectares. It is thus the largest settlement in the
Middle East in the Neolithic Period.8 The eight-thousand-year-old site
preserves the largest collection of prehistoric art in the world. Well-
planned streets and large courtyard houses define the Yarmukian
village; this is the beginning of settlement planning in the Holy Land.
The site is significant not only because of the impressive evidence
of organized village life, but also for its abundant and arresting artwork.
One building covers 400 square meters, and one exposed street is 3
meters wide. The Yarmukians apparently originated pottery in this
area. More than three hundred art objects (usually anthropomorphic
and zoological figurines) found at Sha’ar Hagolan reveal the
importance of art, iconography, and symbolism when village life first
began. Most of the objects are anthropomorphic and zoological, but
not one serpent image has been discovered.
Quite different from Sha’ar Hagolan is Göbekli Tepe. This site in
Upper Mesopotamia, now southeastern Turkey, is monumental but
enigmatic. It also dates from the Neolithic Period and covers
approximately 9 hectares with about 15 meters of deposit.9 The site is
not a city since no traces of daily life have been found. It is a central
cultic settlement that is surrounded by small villages. No occupation
has been found that postdates the Pre-Pottery Neolithic Period (it
became an agricultural site from Roman to modern times). Why is this
site important for us?10
One building, in Layer III, is labeled “the Snake Pillar House.” Why?
It is an enclosure (Enclosure A) that has snake reliefs on freestanding
monolithic pillars. Another area of Layer III, discovered in 2002, boasts
eleven pillars discovered in situ. Many reliefs depict animals, including
lions, bulls, foxes, boars, cranes, quadruped reptiles, and snakes.
Images of snakes were also found in the Crane Pillar Building. The
archaeologists found a green stone plaquette in Layer I that derived
from Layer III; it is decorated with images of an arrow, a bird perhaps,
and a snake. It is clear that this Neolithic site was a cultic setting on a
mountain (a high limestone ridge) in which serpents symbolized
something positive, perhaps fertility, life, and divinity. The massive and
numerous columns, which demanded expenditure of time and assets,
signify that the serpents were chosen to symbolize what was needed
when the ancients gathered there for exchanges of goods and words.

Caveat
One caveat seems necessary before proceeding further. It is
imperative to continue seeking to observe a coherent and clear
methodology. Similarities must be judged and differences observed.
Lines that denote water or a mountain range can be wrongly
interpreted to signify a snake, or they can be misinterpreted as only
one of these, missing a possible double entendre. Serpentine appliqué
on glass can be mere decoration and have nothing to do with
serpents, or such appliqué may appear to constitute a rule that
serpents never appear on glass—which is a widely held opinion that
we have demonstrated is a fallacy (see Figs. 43 and 71). It is easy to
confuse, as some great scholars have, the image of a snake coming
out of the ground and wrapping itself around a goddess with the furls
on the long garment of a human.11
One site must suffice now as an example. At Sha’ar Hagolan, just
north of the River Yarmuk and west of the Jordan River, hundreds of
art objects have been found, which is highly significant since this site
bore witness to a major change in human history: after over two million
years humans began to settle into villages and turn from hunting to
agriculture. The anthropological and zoomorphic figures are highly
symbolic, but other objects are probably not. The basalt stones with
slits are not images of a female fertility goddess; they are for
sharpening stones.12 The basalt stones with images of numerous
lines, sometimes crisscrossing in parallel lines, are designed for
neither games nor a calendar;13 they are probably designed to brand
animals. While it is not always easy to separate realia into symbolic
objects and practical tools, some images are symbolic. The cross, with
both lines of equal length, is most likely carved to denote harmony, a
central point, or some other symbol. It is clear that a line may be for
utilitarian purposes or invested with some unknown deep symbolic
meaning.14
Sometimes the study of symbology can lead to statements that
seem absurd. For example, in The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols, J.
Chevalier and A. Gheerbrant state under the entry “Serpent” the
following: “Lines have neither beginning nor end and, once they come
alive, they become capable of depicting whatever you like or of
changing into any shape.”15 When focused on how pygmies depict
snakes on the ground as a line, this statement has some stimulating
meaning; taken literally, it is patently absurd. If lines had neither
beginning nor end, we could never measure them, as we do
constantly. Also, a line can never come alive; as a symbol it can take
on life, provided that is what its creator intended or what a putative
viewer might have perceived. Thus, the study of symbology must be
grounded. The interpreter must strive to indwell the sphere of meaning
in which an author created or crafted a meaningful symbol. Virtually
none of the images studied so far and to be assessed now can be
categorized as “art for art’s sake” or “mere decoration.”16

Dreams

As we seek to discern the origin and meaning of serpent symbolism, it

is imperative to add to a study of the physiological characteristics of
snakes the importance of serpents in human dreams. Human
imagination and dreams help explain the often fantastic elements in
ophidian iconography and symbology.
It is in dreams that many, perhaps most, of our symbols are
fashioned. No one helped us to understand dreams as much as Carl
Gustav Jung. In Man and His Symbols, which we cited at the
beginning of this work, Jung rightly stressed that “the images and
ideas” that appear in dreams “cannot possibly be explained solely in
terms of memory” (p. 26). Jung correctly observed: “Elements often
occur in a dream that are not individual and that cannot be derived
from the dreamer’s personal experience” (pp. 56#x2013;57). These
archaic remnants, to use Jung’s word, appear to be primordial and
inherited by all humans, regardless of place or time.
I can agree with Jung that dreams, like the one by the eight-year-
old,17 which depict the primordial evilness of a serpent, are not easily
attributable to memory.18 I must beg to differ with him, however, when
he explains them too cavalierly as “sudden pictorial ‘revelations’ from
the unconscious,”19 which “cannot be derived from the dreamer’s
personal experience.”20 Are dreams nothing less than the “aboriginal,
innate, and inherited shapes of the human mind”?21

Human Commonality

I am persuaded that the shared thread observable in so many different

cultures is the result of the commonality of human experiences and
reflections on serpents.22 Culture may be ten thousand years old, but
the human has been on this earth for over three million years. Much of
our art and symbolism are shaped, in various ways, by these “earlier
years.”
In impressive prose, D. Newton explains how the human was once
the insignificant one in creation. Indeed, there was a long period of
time when “the puny population of the human race could have been
trampled out of existence under the advance of a single great herd of
bison or reindeer.” The first humans, and most succeeding
generations, knew “that the animals were stronger, fiercer, cleverer
than themselves, and certainly more beautiful.” We can recapture
some of this perspective by studying ancient art. The human desired to
acquire what the animals possessed. Depictions of animals sometimes
represent them, but more often represent their at tributes, qualities, or
characteristics that were so lacking and desirable to humans.23
All peoples who have myths or theologies that feature the snake,
serpent, or dragon live where venomous snakes are present (or
imagined present), are prevalent, and mysteriously appear and
disappear. Snakes bring fear and the threat of death. The snake is odd
because of its habit of scurrying away from humans, while many
animals are eventually drawn to humans.
For millennia, humans have observed that the snake has an odd
means of moving and eating. It burrows into the earth, which was
revered by the ancients not only as magna mater (the Great Mother
who nourishes all life) but also as the realm of life, water, wisdom, and
mystery.
The serpent is widely seen as representing a resurgence of life
because it sheds its old skin. The shed skin may be all we see of the
elusive creature that we know keeps on living, leaving the old skin
behind and moving ahead with a younger and larger body. This feature
of the snake evoked thoughts about immortality, a “fountain of youth,”
rejuvenation, and eventually resurrection.
This common element in human culture explains the prevalence
and similarity of serpent symbolism in the earth’s diverse cultures. We
need no theories of some distant place of origin. J. Fergusson was
misinformed when he claimed that the serpent cult originated in the
lower Euphrates.24
G. E. Smith claimed that the serpent cult originated in Egypt around
800 BCE.25 We know this is impossible for numerous reasons; only four
now suffice.26 First, the Minoan serpent goddesses (or priestesses)27
date to about 1600 BCE, and the serpent cults at Beth Shan and
Hazor,28 and elsewhere, are also from the second millennium BCE.29
Second, in his Histoires de serpents dans l’Égypte ancienne et
moderne, L. Keimer wisely drew attention to a prehistoric pictograph
from Aswan. On the left is a woman in adoration with her two hands
raised; before her rises a cobra.30 This may be the earliest depiction of
the Naja haje as the divine uraeus. Third, serpent symbolism was
highly developed in Assyrian thought and iconography. Fourth, the
serpent is a symbol in many cultures, including among Aborigines in
Australia and the prehistoric cave dwellers who experienced snakes,
beginning after the Ice Age in which no reptile could exist.

The Language of Art and Symbolism

If under the influence of Aristotle we can speak about the essence of

the serpent, then the symbol of the serpent does not reside in its
physicality (natura sua). Serpent symbolism derives from what the
human imaginatively adds to the concept of the animal: the form. The
symbol of the serpent thus represents what cannot be reduced to the
formal essence of a snake. The symbol and symbology are what the
human perspective adds to nature, creating a meaningful world out of
chaotic phenomenology.31
The Greeks did not pour time, thought, money, and effort into a
sculpture of a god for merely aesthetic purposes (see Appendix II).
Their artwork is a language that results from careful symbolic
reflections. A moving work of art is full of symbolism. Without such
symbolism, life is artless—it remains hollow or devoid of meaning.
According to Eusebius’ Preparation for the Gospel, Porphyry pointed
out that the nature of Zeus cannot be represented because he is the
whole world, “god of gods,” and mind. What has the Greek thus
represented in an image of Zeus? Note Eusebius’ report:

[The Greek] made the representation of Zeus in human form, because mind was that
according to which he wrought, and by generative laws brought all things to completion; and
he is seated, as indicating the steadfastness of his power: and his upper parts are bare,
because he is manifested in the intellectual and the heavenly parts of the world; but his feet
are clothed, because he is invisible in the things that lie hidden below. And he holds his
sceptre in his left hand, because most close to that side of the body dwells the heart.32

Porphyry’s insight into the symbology of Zeus is helpful when we see a

sculpture of him seated in majesty, as in the monumental Zeus on
public display in the Hermitage (see Fig. 57).
 Hercules’ labors defined superhuman efforts for all time: such
actions were and are “Herculean.” They were well known in antiquity,
featured almost everywhere in song as well as bronze and marble
statues. They were on public display. For example, in the Augustan-
age Palaestra’s large (35 meter) cross-shaped swimming pool at
Herculaneum, there was a bronze image of a snake with five heads. It
served as a fountain from which water gushed into the pool. The
serpent is coiled around a tree. What is the meaning of this prominent
symbol? It depicts the many-headed Hydra slain by Hercules.33
Nearby frescoes of Hercules and a miniature altar that is dedicated to
him provide further evidence of the legends from which the citizens of
this city chose the name, Herculaneum.34
What is meant by the appearance of the serpent in so many tales
of Hercules and his twelve labors? What could these symbolize?
According to Eusebius, Porphyry explains that each of the twelve
labors is “the symbol of the division of the signs of the zodiac in
heaven.” What then are the symbolic meanings of his club and lion’s
skin? Porphyry, through Eusebius, explains that Hercules is arrayed
“with a club and a lion’s skin” because the club is “an indication of his
uneven motion,” and the lion’s skin is a “representation of his strength
in ‘Leo’ the sign of the zodiac.”35
What about Asclepius (or Aesculapius [the Latin] or Asklepios [the
Greek]) and ophidian symbolism? According to Eusebius, Porphyry
offered the following explanation of Asclepian symbolism:

Of the sun’s healing power Asclepius is the symbol, and to him they have given the staff as a
sign of the support and rest of the sick, and the serpent is wound round it, as significant of his
preservation of body and soul: for the animal is most full of spirit, and shuffles off the
weakness of the body. It seems also to have a great faculty for healing: for it found the remedy
for giving clear sight, and is said in a legend to know a certain plant which restores life.36

Porphyry’s comments surely represent more than his view of serpent

iconography and symbology.37 The image of the serpent is a language
unto itself. It is now beyond doubt that the art of the Greeks—and the
later Romans—is evocative and the artists’ details often represent a
world of symbolic thought.

Ophiology and Mythic Lore

Greek and Roman thinkers mixed keen observations with mythic lore,
and they often showed ignorance of ophiology. In his study of animals
(De natura animalium), Claudius Aelianus (or Aelian, 165/70–230/35
CE) makes numerous rather absurd comments about snakes.38 He
gives some credence to the lore that the snake is born from “the
putrefying marrow” in the spine of an evil person’s corpse (I.51).
In his polemic against Celsus, Origen, citing a letter from Pliny the
Elder, reported: “[A]t the present time a snake might be formed out of a
dead man, growing, as the multitude affirm, out of the marrow of the
back.”39 Such reports are invaluable insights into the folklore of the
average person in the first century.
Aelian baldly states that snakes, when coupling, produce “a most
offensive odor” (9.44). The keen sight of the snake is due to molting
(9.16). Along with others who exaggerate the size and characteristics
of snakes in India, Aelian, under the influence of Megasthenes, thinks
that in India snakes ( ) have wings ( 16.41; cf.
2.38). Aelian announces that the snake emits urine ( ) that
produces “a festering wound on any body on which it may happen to
drop” (16.41). This comment is significant, since, as pointed out
previously, snakes do not urinate. Aelian can be surprisingly
misinformed, as when he claims that Egypt is “the moistest of all
countries” (2.38).
Snakes are exceedingly fast. In fact, according to Aelian, one
snake called Acontias ( , acontiae; the Javelin-snake) can shoot
forth as fast as a javelin (6.18).40 The ability of snakes to rise up is
exaggerated: they can “rise upright and stand upon the tip of their tail”
(6.18).
Snakes can foretell the future (11.2). In Epidaurus and in a grove
sacred to Apollo are snakes that are “the pets of the god” (11.2). In a
sacred grove in Lavinium are snakes in a deep cavern (11.16). Blinded
“holy maidens” can walk as if seeing due to the “divine inspiration”
received from the snakes. The snakes can even determine “their
impurity.” Clearly, snakes are considered divine (11.17).
Aelian seems to accept a certain Alexander’s report that snakes
can grow to 40 cubits, and are sacred to Poseidon (17.1; cf. 17.1–4).
While frequently warning of the dangerous bite of a snake, Aelian
accepts Phylarchus’ report that in Egypt asps ( , aspides) are
“extremely gentle and tame.” This mild behavior is because the asps
are treated with such respect, being fed with the children, and creeping
out of their lairs when called. How? They obey when one snaps one’s
fingers (17.5).
 The following account helps us comprehend the context of ancient
serpent symbolism, the penchant for depicting serpents upraised (as in
Num 21 and Jn 3), and the seeming ubiquity of asps in Egypt, even in
the bedroom:

Then the Egyptians give them presents in the way of friendship, for when they have finished
their meal they soak barley in wine and honey and place it on the table off which they happen
to have dined. Then they snap their fingers and summon “the guests,” so to call them. And the
Asps as at a signal assemble, creeping out from different quarters, and as they encircle the
table, while the rest of their coils remain on the floor, they rear their heads up [
, caput allevantes] and lick the food; gently and by degrees they take their
fill of the barley and eat it up. And if some need causes the Egyptians to rise during the night,
they again snap their fingers: this is a signal for the Asps to make way for them and to
withdraw. … Accordingly the man who has got out of bed neither treads upon nor encounters
any of them. [17.5]

I cannot imagine a clearer example that illustrates the vast differences

between the ancient Egyptian culture and our own.41 Perhaps this
quotation signals why an appreciation of serpents and their symbology
has eroded. The shift is paradigmatic.
Aelian serves as an example of the ancient and continuing
ignorance of snakes. In the Babylonian Talmud we find additional
examples. In Avodah Zarah (30b) we receive the misinformation that a
snake grows stronger as it ages, but in aging the venom loses its
potency . Of course, we should not expect the ancients to
know about pure toxin, which was isolated for the first time in the
1960s, or comprehend that 0.3 micrograms of the neurotoxin from a
naja naja is lethal.42
A brief summary of the common theme of the symbolic meaning of
the serpent in world cultures follows. I have ordered the shared
concepts and symbols according to their importance for a better
understanding of ancient perceptions of the serpent and the relevance
of such insight for an improved exegesis of biblical passages,
especially John 3:14–15.

THE SYMBOL OF THE SERPENT IN ANCIENT NEAR

EASTERN ICONOGRAPHY, ARCHAEOLOGY, AND
MYTHOLOGY

Many biblical exegetes have assumed that the symbol of the serpent
means something primarily evil. We have seen abundant reasons why
this assumption is wrong. Learned experts in psychology have
assumed that the serpent symbolically always denotes the phallus. We
have perceived why this conclusion is invalid and misrepresentative.
We have also observed how and why serpent symbology is
fundamentally multivalent. It denotes and connotes a bewildering
variety of concepts and ideas that we have organized into sixteen
negative and twenty-nine positive typologies. It is understandable why
M. Eliade opined that serpent symbolism is “confusing.”43
Serpent imagery and symbology were used in antiquity to signify
the triumphant power of a political regime. Two examples must suffice:
First, with W. von Soden44 and M. Gorg,45 K. Holter sees a hidden
polemic against Solomon’s foreign policy in the serpent imagery of
Genesis 3. He claims more than Egypt is in view, since nachash in the
Old Testament symbolizes Egypt as well as other nations. Because the
Yahwist perceived Israel as a blessing for all nations (Gen 12:3: “and
whoever curses you I will curse”), some scholars claim that this
tradition preserves a critique of Solomon’s alliances with other nations
that had cursed Israel.46 Second, H. P. Laubscher argues,
persuasively, that the depictions of baby Hercules strangling the two
snakes sent to him by the jealous Hera had political significance; it
was used especially to legitimize the new power of the Ptolemies.47
As we continue, and try to summarize what has been learned, it is
prudent to recognize that the study of snakes in ancient Palestine
should not be guided by the presence of snakes in Israel or Palestine
today.48 Many species of Irano-Turanian origin have entered this area
only in the past three hundred years, as F. S. Bodenheimer, a
professor of zoology at the Hebrew University, stated in Animal Life in
Palestine in 1935.49 A large reticulated python (python reticulatus) can
be seen at Hamat Gader and in the reptile “farm” on the way from
Jerusalem to Eilat, but these were brought to the area for the purpose
of entrapping tourists or so that people might see these large snakes.

Figure 64. Bronze Cobra Lamp. Herodian Period. Jerusalem. JHC Collection

In the following review, we shall try to avoid redundancy with the

preceding pages by citing publications that have not yet been noted.
The summaries will tend to move from the global meanings of serpent
symbolism to the eastern Mediterranean world, and from prehistoric
images and then from more modern perspectives, to the late first
century CE; that is, our goal continues as it was from the outset: to seek
a deeper meaning of John 3:14–15, wondering what this passage
might have symbolized to its author and to its readers. The ordering of
all the variegated data amassed so far is essential so that we might
have a perspective on the meaning of ophidian and anguine
iconography in the Levant by the end of the first century ce.50 With this
summary and a perception of a continuity or development in serpent
symbolism,51 we may then obtain a coherent perspective that will
guide us in the interpretation of such crucial biblical passages as
Genesis 3, Numbers 21, 2 Kings 18—and, of course John 3.52
References will be made to the illustrations included; it will become
clear that only seldom can we with confidence obtain negative
denotations from serpent iconography. Those who created serpent
images almost always worked with the understanding that they were
making something helpful to them and their associates. By the first
century CE, Jews realized the importance of art and ornamentation, as
we know from archaeological discoveries in the Upper City of
Jerusalem, Masada, and elsewhere. Assimilated Jews probably saw
no problem with having a human statue in their homes.53 In
parentheses I have drawn the reader’s attention to what was learned
about the thirty-two virtually unique physical characteristics of a snake;
thus, “cf. 2.1,” e.g., means as follows: consult Chapter 2, the first
characteristic of a snake.

NEGATIVE SYMBOLIC MEANING

Sixteen negative meanings of serpent symbolism may be discerned in

the data already collected. Thus, we shall now discuss succinctly the
following meanings:

Death-Giver Friendless One

Destroyer (Impure One) Battler (or Enemy)
Chaos and Darkness God’s Antagonist
Bearer of Corruptible
Devil
Knowledge
Liar Evil
Duality Evil Eye
Self-made One Fear
Symbol of Corrupted Sex (the
Tempter
Phallus)

Death-Giver

The snake can administer almost instant death with only one bite (cf.
2.20), but the lion must maul its prey. The snake is forced to swallow
another animal whole, and usually when it is still alive (cf. 2.9). Thus,
the serpent symbolizes the Death-Giver. Examining serpent images
from the Megalithic world of western Europe as well as southern
Russia, J. Maringer concludes: “The serpent was closely related with
the Goddess of Death.”54
The usual nouns in Ugaritic for “snake” are bathnu and nahshu; 55
four Ugaritic texts are devoted to liturgies or incantations against
venomous snakebites, indicating that venomous snakes terrorized
horses and humans.56 In medieval etchings and paintings, the snake
is often shown with a skeleton, sometimes sliding down the Devil’s
throat.57 It was common knowledge in antiquity, as today, that
venomous serpents had the ability to cause death. It seems to be used
by the author of Ecclesiastes to indicate that death will come to any
who breaks the hedge, probably the boundaries of the Torah:

He who digs a pit shall fall into it;

And who breaks a hedge, a serpent will bite him.
[Eccl 10:8;58 cf. Amos 5:19]

Much earlier, in an inscription of Sefire (southeast of Aleppo) that

antedates the conquest of Arpad by Tiglath-pileser III, the king of
Arpad will be cursed if he violates the treaty; among the animals that
will devour Arpad is the snake.59
Many Hellenistic and early Roman literary accounts and artistic
depictions celebrate Hercules, the son of Zeus and Alcmene, for
successfully, as a baby, strangling the two serpents sent by Hera to kill
him.60 A real baby, perhaps a depiction of Caracalla or Marcus
Aurelius’ son, Annius Verus, shapes the body in a portrayal of
Hercules as he strangles a snake; this sculpture is on display in the
Capitoline Museum.61 The boy with two large black snakes, with red
mouths and white fangs, is graphically real in the mosaic in “the House
of the Evil Eye” in Antioch.62 The serpents sent to kill Hercules indicate
that this animal is the quintessential Death-Giver (see Figs. 54 and
55).
The same iconography and symbology apply to the large serpents
sent to kill Laocoon and his sons. Sometimes Laocoon’s wife is
depicted with upraised axe trying to slay the large and death-dealing
snakes.63 Artists who render Cleopatra’s death almost always evoke
the legend that the asp is the one who brought the kiss of death.
According to the Jewish author who wrote the Testament of Abraham
(shorter text; 14 and 17), Death is a being, and one of his heads is a
snake.
According to the compiler of the Lives of the Prophets, Jeremiah
prayed “and the asps left” the Egyptians. Moreover, “to this very day”
(reports the author), God’s faithful take the dust from the place where
Jeremiah performed this miracle. Then these people remove the fear
brought by snakes, since the dust heals “asps’ bites.”64
The author of the book of Revelation imagined that a large portion
of humankind would be killed (9:20), and reported a vision of wild
horses. The tails of these horses are “like serpents” (9:19). According
to Jewish lore, when Hadrian inspected the corpse of Bar Kokhba he
discovered his petuma (body or phallus) was encircled by a snake and
was responsible for his death (/’. Ta’an 4.69a). The author of the Acts
of Andrew relates how a large snake (50 cubits long) threatens a
family and kills a child, but Andrew slays the beast (cf. AcJn 69–77).
Aulus Cornelius Celsus (fl. 14–37 CE), famous for his book on
medicine, offered cures for bites from various types of poisonous
snakes.65 His remedies for snakebite are scarcely insightful or
efficacious. He tells the afflicted to apply a cup, plaster, or salt on the
wound (5.27.1). Experience or practice (usus) reveals that when an
asp strikes one (quem aspis percussit), the victim should drink vinegar
(acetum; 5.27.4). Elsewhere, Celsus instructs the victim to place goat’s
dung (stercus caprinum) over the bite (super vulnus; 5.27.8). I would
rather follow his preceding advice and drink some wine.66
According to the author of the Testament of Abraham, Death shows
Abraham “venomous wild beasts—asps and cobras and leopards and
lions and lion cubs and bears and vipers.” Then Death tells him: “and
in a word I showed you the face of every wild beast.” The reason these
dangerous creatures were shown to Abraham is because many
humans “being breathed on by venomous snakes—[dragons and asps
and horned serpents and cobras] and vipers—depart life.”67 The
serpent is the Death-Giver.
The Gemara in the Babylonian Talmud relates an incident that
saved Rabbi Eleazar from danger and perhaps death. While Rabbi
Eleazar was in a latrine, a nondescript Roman rudely pushed him
aside. After Rabbi Eleazar left the latrine, a dragon-snake klled
the Roman (Berachot 62b). The snake also serves as the executioner,
according to a saying attributed to Shimon ben Shetach in the
Babylonian Talmud (b. Sanh. 37b). In early times, Jews were afraid of
drinking water that may have been contaminated with the poison of a
snake.68 Why? They perceived the snake as the Death-Giver.
The depiction of Christ defeating the serpent signifies that the
serpent is the agent of death (see Fig. 2). At the Last Judgment, Christ
is holding the snake, and that might signify the judgment on the one
who brought death. According to a Coptic amulet, Christ descended to
earth on December 25 (Choiak) to pass “judgment on all the
poisonous snakes.”69 That is, Christ brings death to the Death-Giver.
The snake as the Death-Giver is epitomized in Aesop’s fable, “A
Countryman and a Snake.” The countryman found a snake under a
hedge in a very cold winter. It was virtually frozen to death. The man
picked it up and placed it on his warm chest. As soon as the snake
revived, he bit and killed the man who had saved his life. The man’s
last words were a question: Is the “Venemous Ill Nature of thine” to be
satisfied “with nothing less then [sic] the Ruine of thy Preserver?”70
According to the Gospel of Bartholomew, Death with his six sons
comes to the tomb of Jesus. They appear in the form of serpents.
Death asks Jesus: “Who are you?” Jesus, removing the napkin from
his face, looks into the face of Death and laughs. The serpent gods
flee.
The image of the snake as the Death-Giver appears throughout
Western culture. In one of Shakespeare’s most polished works, A
Midsummer Night’s Dream, Hermia elopes to marry Lysander. At one
point she feels he is lost—even dead. With passion she hisses at
Demetrius and accuses him of killing her lover:
And hast thou kild him, sleeping? O braue tutch!
Could not a worme, an Adder do so much?
An Adder did it: For with doubler tongue
Then thyne (thou serpent) neuer Adder stung.71

At this point, some readers may be satisfied that we have

adequately summarized serpent symbolism. They knew all along that
the snake is the one who causes death.72 The snake is the
bloodthirsty creature. After all, three hundred to four hundred
snakebites are reported each year in modern Israel.73 Such a
conclusion is not only unthinkable in light of the insights obtained in the
preceding pages, but it fails to perceive the true bloodthirsty creature
on this planet.
The mosquito bites more than five hundred million people each
year. This little monster, whose wings flap at the rate of six hundred
times a minute, causes plagues, including yellow fever, which killed
twenty thousand during the French attempt to dig the Panama Canal.
It is well known for delivering the deadly malaria. This creature never—
or barely—made it into the elite animal world of mythology. The lion
devours the human (GosThom), the serpent is the venomous Devil,
but the mosquito is unper-ceived to be the little vampire. It is actually
more misperception than perception that categorizes the snake as the
Death-Giver. Ophiologists agree that poisonous snakes are usually
reclusive and reluctant to attack and bite someone; perhaps they
conserve their venom for use in life-threatening circumstances or to
obtain life-sustaining food.
One of the symbolic meanings of the serpent is the Death-Giver.
Unfortunately, too many people today end with this mere beginning in
the study of serpent symbolism.

Destroyer (Impure One)

The unparalleled ability of a snake to force its mouth open to five times
its diameter and to swallow whole, and alive, a heavier (but not longer)
animal elicited reflections on the serpent as the ideal symbol of the
Destroyer (cf. 2.9). In Egyptian iconography the serpent god Apophis
(Apep) is the “Destroyer.”74 Not many humans would relish the task of
taking apart their own skeleton to eat; thus, the snake came to
symbolize the Destroyer.
 Today, especially in the desert and wilderness, Bedouin believe in
demons called jinn. These beings can intermittently take human forms,
but they are often perceived to be serpents with real bodies; they are
not phantasms.75 These jinn when disturbed will protect or avenge
themselves. They can spew forth sickness and madness. According to
many accounts, Muhammed ed-Dib, who found Qumran Cave I, fled,
initially, when he heard the sound of his rock careening off ceramics;
he feared that jinn inhabited the cave.
The one who expanded the sayings of the prophet Isaiah with
65:25 caught a vision of the future perfect time when no longer will
there be a destroyer in Zion. The wolf will no longer kill the lamb: “They
will feed together.” The lion shall no more devour the ox; both “shall
eat straw.” But the author, knowing that God had ordered the serpent
to eat dust forever (Gen 3:14), could only foresee that “dust
shall be the serpent’s food.” Yet, God did not say the serpent must
continue as the destroyer. He (or she) will henceforth eat only dust.
Why? The answer is because no creature “shall hurt or destroy in all
my holy mountain.”
Some Jews may have eventually imagined that the serpent had not
been eternally cursed. Perhaps some of the compilers or readers of
Perek Shi-rah imagined the snake, along with other creatures, could
quote Scripture and praise God: “The snake is saying: ‘God supports
all the fallen, and straightens all the bent’ (Psalms 145:14).”76
The author of 3 Baruch, in the Greek recension, records a tradition
that depicts the serpent’s belly as Hades. The Slavonic recension has
these words: “As great as its [the serpent’s] stomach, so great is
Hades.”77 The author of 4 Maccabees called the serpent “the deceitful
serpent” and “the destroyer” (18:8). Perhaps the bronze dragons from
east of Jerusalem denoted or connoted the destroyer (Fig. 16).
Reviewing the portrayal of the serpent or snake as the destroyer
reveals that this meaning is carried along with the opposite: the
serpent as the protector. A good example is found in Tanhuma, which
reached its present form after the compilation of the Babylonian
Talmud in the sixth century:

There is a story about a certain snake who came hissing from the field. He entered someone’s
house on the Sabbath eve at nightfall, and saw a bowl of crushed garlic placed on the table.
He put his mouth over it to eat the garlic. After he had eaten it, he vomited it into [the bowl].
Then he covered the bowl just as it had been at first. Another house snake saw it. What did he
do? He went and uncovered the bowl. When they found it uncovered, they emptied it out. Who
caused this householder not to die? The snake who uncovered [the bowl].78
From this parable we learn either that some Jews had pet or
household snakes or that Jews could relate positively to a story about
house snakes.
As with Numbers 21, and in light of our comments earlier, the
snake can represent opposites (the caduceus and the double entendre
of serpent sym-bology).79 As mentioned earlier, the caduceus was
esteemed—and perhaps intermittently conceptualized—by first-
century Palestinian Jews, since it appears on coins minted by Herod
the Great (73–4 BCE[reign: 37–4]) in Jerusalem, Archelaus (4 BCE-6
CE), and Valerius Gratus (15–26 CE).80

As G. St. Clair points out, the “serpent bites, and the serpent heals.
… People worship the serpent, or they worship Apollo for destroying it.
It is the serpent who tempts Eve, yet Eve herself is the serpent.” Is the
final sentence an example of rhetorical language living on itself? St.
Clair never again mentions Eve or substantiates his claim.81 Yet there
is linguistic evidence that suggests the author of Genesis 3, or some of
his readers, thought of Eve as, or in light of, the snake, who may have
been female (see Appendix I).
About 1600 BCE the Minoans created models and gems of women
with snakes. We have already seen the early Roman depictions of
Venus or Aphrodite with a serpent on her thigh (see Fig. 23). Not all
images of women with snakes are positive. For example, in the Middle
Ages women were imagined with serpents sucking their breasts. The
femme-aux-serpens may denote lust or, more likely, as A. Luyster has
suggested recently, bad mothers.82 The author of the Vision of St. Paul
(Apocalypse of St. Paul) envisioned in Hell the women who killed their
infants and were bad mothers (cf. ApVir [Greek]). These were tortured
by “dragons and fire and serpents and vipers.”83 The juxtaposition of
images of these bad mothers in chiseled porches of churches opposite
Mary, the perfect mother, supports Luyster’s argument. It is further
bolstered by the study of the “virgin ecclesia” contrasted on the
opposite side of a church porch by the wayward “female synagogue.”
84

In Leviticus 11:29–38 numerous “creeping things” are judged to

cause impurity. While none of the eighteen nouns for “snake” in the
Hebrew Bible (Appendix I) appears in these verses, some snakes are
included in the list of creeping things mentioned in verses 29–30.
These “creeping things” bring danger and make one impure. Snakes
are found in caves whose floors are piles of bat dung, and caves can
be perceived as the entrance to the world beneath: Sheol and the
abode of the dead. The snake frequents graves and tombs, bearing
the pollution of death and danger. Thus, the snake can denote
impurity.

Chaos and Darkness

The snake sometimes has a tail that is indistinguishable from its head;
this characteristic suggests undifferentiated chaos (cf. 2.30). The
snake’s deafness (cf. 2.2) to God’s creative word and its ability to scale
barriers (cf. 2.16) helped stimulate perceptions, especially among
Jews and Christians, that the serpent symbolized chaos.
In Purity and Danger, Mary Douglas rightly points out that negative
valence is assigned to whatever animal escapes space or place.85 The
creature, par excellence, that is the great barrier breaker is the snake
(as we indicated at the outset). Thus, the serpent, which disappears
beneath the horizon of the water and below the earth (a chthonic
creature), and leaves its skin behind, is dangerous because it seems
to have no assigned place, as do, for example, dogs, horses, cattle,
and sheep. The snake invades our dwellings and habitually comes
through apertures we cannot use. The snake has the uncanny ability
to slide over or around barriers and remain undetected. This habit
helps explain why the serpent was chosen by many to symbolize
monsters that represent or reflect chaos and the rebellious one in
creation.
The Hittite text known in second-millennium Anatolia called “The
Storm-God and the Serpent” relates how “the serpent smote the
Stormgod.”86 The Ein Samiya cup depicts serpent monsters that seem
to denote the chaos defeated by the gods or god at creation (see Fig.
19). The mythical monsters, the Tanninim, personify chaos in Isaiah
and the Psalms (see Appendix I). Note, especially, Psalm 74:13 (14 in
English):

You divided the sea by your strength;

You broke the heads of the dragons upon the water.

Note that the dragons may have more than one head (as in
Ugaritic, Babylonian, Persian, and Greek mythology). The serpent
symbolizes chaos in most world cultures and myths; he is Azi-Dahaka
in Persia, Tiamat and Labbu in Babylon, Apophis in Egypt, and the
Python in Greece.87
The Old Testament Apocrypha contains an expansion of Daniel
called Bel and the Dragon. In it, a large dragon-serpent is described; it
is worshipped by the Babylonians. Daniel feeds it its final meal: a
mixture of pitch, fat, and hair. The idolatrous dragon-serpent devours
the meal and bursts asunder. Such rhetoric is polemical and reduces
an enemy’s religiosity to falsehood; far too many scholars are thereby
misled to imagine that serpents are demonic.88
In From Chaos to Enemy: Encounters with Monsters in Early Irish
Texts, J. Borsje discussed the serpent monsters that are prevalent in
early Ireland.89 The serpent monsters include Apophis, Behemoth,
Cerberus, and Leviathan.90
In a Ugaritic text, Baal claims to have “crushed Tannin,” and
“shattered the wounded snake,” which had “seven heads.”91 The text
is reminiscent of Isaiah 27:1 in which “the twisted serpent” appears as
a monster of chaos.
In 1817, chaos was created by the alleged sightings of a sea-
dragon. General David Humphreys, formerly on George Washington’s
staff, interviewed “eyewitnesses” who believed it was over 18 meters
long. A research committee claimed to have discovered evidence of a
new genus dubbed Scoliophis Atlanticus. In the South, William Crafts,
a Charleston playwright, composed a play that lampooned the
monster; the play was entitled The Sea Serpent; or, Gloucester Hoax:
A Dramatic Jeu d’Esprit in Three Acts. 92 Accounts of seeing a sea
serpent appear intermittently in the United States, beginning in 1641
and continuing until the present.93 The monster symbolizes great
confusion (which to the ancients meant chaos).
From the third century BCE until the second century CE, the Jewish
apocalyptists talk about the order of creation. One repetitive note in
their symphony of perceptions is that all that is created runs according
to its assigned task. The lone exception is the moon, which, failing to
rule only the night because it wanders into the light of day, periodically
suffers by losing some of its light and wanes each month. The authors
of the Jewish apocryphal works never could describe the snake as one
who follows the order of creation; it was sometimes a symbol of
chaos.94
As one might imagine, the image of a snake that is so closely
linked with chaos serves as a symbol of darkness. The snake can
burrow deep into the earth or delve into the depths of the sea—each of
these, in contrast to the heavens, is perceived as the realm of
darkness. The snake is the only animal damned to eat dust (perhaps a
symbol of chaos and darkness). As J. Chevalier and A. Gheerbrant
state in The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols: “Throughout the world …
[the] great god of darkness … is a serpent.”95

Figure 65. Bronze Stamp, a Serpent with Bifid Tongue. Jerusalem. JHC Collection

A good example of the serpent as a symbol of darkness is found in

Egypt, after the Eighteenth Dynasty. The god Horus is portrayed as an
eagle, representing good and light, and is set over temples. He has
defeated Set, the monster who symbolizes evil and darkness—and
who is represented by a snake (often as two uraei).96 We shall see
that the uraeus symbolized not only evil and darkness but also power,
royalty, life, and divinity—especially on the crowns of the pharaohs.

Bearer of Corruptible Knowledge

The snake’s bifid tongue (cf. 2.8)97 and deafness (cf. 2.2) lie behind
the serpent’s ability to symbolize the one who brings corruptible
knowledge. Since it represents duplicity and cannot hear the Word, it
symbolizes corruptible knowledge. Many Ugaritic incantation texts
mention serpents, and even sorcerers being attacked by them.98 In the
Garden of Eden, the serpent was depicted as intelligent and clever; he
(or she) could talk with the woman. The serpent was not a liar; he (or
she) did point the way to knowledge, but it was a knowledge that
ultimately separated the created from the Creator. What the human
pair received was not wisdom; it was corruptible knowledge.
A Baraita preserved in the Babylonian Talmud (b. B. Bat. 17a)
warns of the evil knowledge one can derive from a snake. According to
this text, Rabbis taught that four people died “because of the counsel
(or advice) of the serpent” .
Ignorant of ophiology and eager to stress that the snake is the
bearer of damnable knowledge, the fifth-century Spanish poet
Prudentius claimed that the female snake was impregnated by “oral
union.” This culminated with her devouring her “lover.” Proceeding
uninformed about biology, Prudentius claims that human sin is like the
offspring of a viper:

For because there is no passage to give them birth, the belly is tortured and gnawed by the
young as they struggle into light, till a way is opened through the torn sides … and the young
creep about licking the corpse that bore them, a family of orphans at their very birth. [The
Origin of Sin, 584–608]99

Intent on explaining the origin of sin, Prudentius reveals the hatred and
ignorance he has of vipers that, he assumes, transmit knowledge to
humans that damns them.

Liar

The bifid tongue of the snake symbolized duplicity, and thus lying (cf.
2.8). Many early Jewish texts interpret Genesis 3 so that the serpent is
the liar and the source of lies. Paul interprets Genesis 3 by placing the
blame on the serpent’s lying: “The serpent deceived
Eve by his cunning (2 Cor 11:3). Thus, Paul perceived
the serpent to be the Deceiver or Liar. The same interpretation of
serpent symbolism was expressed in the early first century CE by Philo
of Alexandria. He claimed that the serpent “deceives by trickery and
artfulness.”100 Sometime before 70 CE, the author of 4 Maccabees
called the serpent “deceitful” (18:8). One can readily understand why
many scholars, especially E. Williams-Forte, are convinced that in
Genesis 3 the serpent symbolizes evil and cunning, and that the
serpent is primarily the Deceiver or Liar.101
Geryon, the Monster of Falsehood, is imagined to resemble a
serpent. His face may be that of a pious man, his feet those of a bear,
but his body is a serpent with a long poisonous tail. Virgil spoke of him.
Dante put him in the eighth circle of Hell. This scene appears in vivid
colors in a fifteenth-century manuscript preserved in the Biblioteca
Nazionale Marciana in Venice (Cod. It. IX, 276 [= 6902]).102
Often the symbol of the serpent as the “Liar” appears when one
castigates an adversary. A good example is found in The Genuine Acts
of Peter. The author labels Arius a snake. Note this excerpt: “Nearly
about the same time Arius, armed with a viper’s craft, as if deserting
the party of Meletius, fled for refuge to Peter, who at the request of the
bishops raised him to the honours of the diaconate, being ignorant of
his exceeding hypocrisy. For he was even as a snake suffused with
deadly poison.”103
In To the Bishops of Egypt, Athanasius also likened the teaching of
Arius and those with him to the poison of a snake. He urged the
bishops in Egypt to “condemn them as hypocrites, who hide the poison
of their opinions, and like the serpent flatter with the words of their lips.
For, though they thus write, they have associated with them those who
were formerly rejected with Arius, such as Secundus of Pentapolis,
and the clergy who were convicted at Alexandria.”104
Much earlier, but sometime after 135/36 CE, the author of the
Apocalypse of Elijah records a tradition that “the son of lawlessness …
will perish like a serpent which has no breath in it.”105 In both Judaism
and Christianity, the tradition that the serpent denotes lying escalates
after the time of Bar Kokhba (132–35/36). One example must suffice.
A sage teaching is recorded in a Baraita in the Babylonian Talmud:
“They said to him, ‘It is not possible for a man to dwell (safely) with a
snake (V)ro) in a basket’ “ (Ketubot 72a). This use of serpent
symbolism was directed against a woman who habitually breaks her
marriage vows. The meaning is not in doubt; a man who continues to
live with a wife (like that) is like a snake. It cannot be trusted with true
behavior, since it will eventually bite and kill.106 The Arabic saying “The
serpent does not bring forth [anything] except a little serpent” is used
to denote someone who purveys mischievous or malignant
information.107 In his Finitude et culpabilité: Le symbolique du mal,
Paul Ricoeur explains why the serpent is the symbol of lying and
distortion.108

Duality
The two penises (hemipenes; cf. 2.7) and the bifid tongue (cf. 2.8)
helped the snake to symbolize duality. This concept is reflected in the
caduceus (two serpents facing each other, sometimes in opposite
ways). We have seen the amazing ability of the serpent to symbolize
two things at once (cf. the discussion of double entendre in Chap. 2).
In Euripides’ Ion, two drops of the Gorgon’s blood—equal to the viper’s
poison—can either bring death or heal sicknesses .109
The snake in The Shipwrecked Sailor is, on the one hand, frightening;
but, on the other hand, it is kind.110
Duality, not dualism, can be a negative concept, as in the duplicity
or the uncanny ability of politicians to be like a snake. When one labels
politicians snakes, one means that such persons are guilty of duplicity.
They have been speaking words that appease or mollify a constituent;
they have not been seeking to report objectively and with integrity the
true situation or possibilities.111 In antiquity and modernity, the serpent
symbolized such duplicity.

Self-made One

The deafness (cf. 2.2) and social independence of the snake (cf. 2.8
and 2.32) helped placard the serpent as the self-made one. The evil
serpent cannot hear God because it can only detect earthborne low-
frequency vibrations, and so will not (and cannot) acknowledge that it
was created by God. Its rebellion alters its memory, at least from the
perspective of the biblical writers. The classic passage in which the
serpent is depicted as the self-made one is Ezekiel 29:3,

Thus declares the Lord God:

“Behold, I am against you,
O Pharaoh, king of Egypt,
O great dragon who dwells in the midst of his rivers,112
Who has said, ‘My river is my own;
And I made [it] for myself.’ “

We should expect reference to the serpent within the Hebrew Bible,

since the uraeus of Pharaoh’s sun casts shadows on it and within it.113

Tempter

The snake’s bifid tongue helped make the serpent the symbol of the
tempter (cf. 2.8). In the Garden of Eden the serpent tempts the woman
to disobey God. The author of Pseudo-Philo, in a review of the Fall,
stated that the serpent “deceived” the first man’s wife (13:8). According
to the author of Jubilees 3:23, God cursed the serpent and remained
forever angry with the creature. In the Middle Ages, and especially in
art beginning in many circles in the late nineteenth century, the snake
is the tempter. Often it is shown with the dark, bewitching temptress.

Friendless One

The social independence of the snake (cf. 2.11), its inability to wink,
laugh, or talk (cf. 2.23), and above all its antisocial nature (cf. 2.32)
helped make it a symbol of the Friendless One. The snake does not
seem capable of any type of affection, not even paternal love. The
parents abandon their offspring. Some ophiologists claim that the
Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake stays with its hatch to protect and
mother the offspring. I would think that perhaps she remains with her
hatch because she is too exhausted to move, after suffering through
nine hours of labor. Since the mother snake shows no affection for her
young (as do most animals), she seems unfriendly to them, and is
perhaps the most unmotherly of creatures.
The Cincinnati Art Museum has a nude figure of a man with two
fish hanging from a neck ring that fits below his beard. His arms are
bound by four snakes that come from behind him. Two snakes curl to
face his beard, and the heads of two more appear above his waist. A.
Perrot was convinced that the piece was genuine and stolen from the
excavations at Tello.114 The meaning of this image is far from clear, but
since the man is bound by the serpents, they may symbolize the
animal that is unfriendly.115
According to Japanese myths, the wild god, Susanoh, was exiled
from heaven. On “Izumo” he learned that every year a serpent with
eight heads devoured a girl from the village. Surely, many Japanese
imagined the serpent as even worse than the Friendless One.
According to Josephus, the serpent in the Garden of Eden showed
“an envious disposition” and a “malicious intention.” God thus deprived
him of speech and made him an enemy to humans (Ant. 1.1.4).
Josephus thinks that the serpent has a cruel mind (Ant. 17.5.5). Most
of the rabbinic references to the serpent are negative; for example:
“No one can live with a serpent in the same basket” (m. Ketubot 72a).
As we saw when reviewing the physiological characteristics of a
snake, the snake cannot become a friend of the human; there is no
possibility of developing a trustworthy relationship, as humans
habitually do with dogs, horses, and some cats.
The snake as the Friendless One is adumbrated in God’s cursing
the serpent at the end of Genesis 3. It is found in Aesop’s fable of “A
Countryman and a Snake”:

There was a Snake that Bedded himself under the Threshold of a Country-House: A Child of
the Family happen’d to set his Foot upon’t; The Snake bit him, and he Dy’d on’t. The Father of
the Child made a Blow at the Snake, but Miss’d his Aim, and only left a Mark behind him upon
the Stone where he Struck. The Countryman Offer’d the Snake, some time after This, to be
Friends again. No, says the Snake, so long as you have this Flaw upon the Stone in Your Eye,
and the Death of the Child in your Thought, there’s No Trusting of ye.116

The serpent as the Friendless One often appears in the other fifteen
negative symbolic meanings of ophidian iconography and symbology.

Battler (or Enemy)

The snake has horrifyingly deadly venom (cf. 2.20). Its ability to
conquer larger foes is evident (cf. 2.9)—a king cobra can kill a large
elephant with one bite. These facts lie behind the serpent as
symbolizing the Battler or Enemy.
In the Akkadian Enuma Elish, we learn about the serpent as the
great warrior or battler at creation.117 Gods are depicted slaying
serpent-dragons (Fig. 8). God’s malediction to the snake in the Garden
of Eden, which was never rescinded, proclaims the snake in many
Jewish and Christian symbols and texts as “l’ennemi insidieux et
irréconciliable.”118 The Hymn of the Pearl, written sometime between
the second and fourth centuries CE, describes the search of a young
man for the priceless pearl. The youth discovers that the pearl is in the
depths of the sea surrounded by a serpent; he must battle against this
opponent.
A vast amount of art as well as serpent iconography depicts
Michael slaying the dragon, the one whom the gods and angels must
confront in battle. Amulets and texts are extant in which one calls on
God for protection against enemies, like the snake.119 Coptic and
Arabic art abound with illustrations of the serpent as the symbol of
hostile power.120 Constantine developed the symbol of the serpent so
that he, the Emperor, would be seen as the one who had slain the
dragon or serpent with the lance (La-barum).121 Medals were
circulated to announce the new symbolic meaning of the serpent, and
Eusebius heralded the proclamation in his Vita Constantin 3.3. A
considerable amount of early Christian art depicts the serpent or
dragon as the enemy defeated by Christ; sometimes the snake
appears at the foot of the cross.122

God’s Antagonist

The deafness of the snake (cf. 2.2) helped make it a symbol of one
who could not hear God’s word and was thus rebellious and
disobedient to God. Succinctly put, the serpent was God’s antagonist.
Although powerful now in this age, it will be judged in the coming age.
Many murals in churches feature this judgment, including the modern
mural in the monastery of the Greek Orthodox Church in Capernaum.
The leading word for “snake” in Assyrian is seru 123 or serru(m),124
which is very similar, and perhaps cognate, to serru. The latter noun
denotes not only a door-pivot that is an entryway for “demons,” but
also “enemy” or “adversary.” The worship of the serpent was an aspect
of the Canaanite cult at Timnac(Fig. 22), Beth Shan, Hazor (Fig. 21),
and elsewhere (Figs. 29-33). While the snake often denoted to the
Israelites, in contrast, the antagonist of God, it is clear that at biblical
Dan the snake house, which was probably modeled after a temple,
and the three pithoi (large vessels) with serpent decorations from the
time of Jeroboam I, found only in the sanctuary area, indicate the
importance of snakes to the cult at Dan.125
In Euripides’ Ion, the son of Zeus, during the gigantomachia (battle
of the gods with the Giants), slays Zeus’ adversary. The latter is the
snake of Lerna .126 According to Pseudo-Apollodorus’
Library, Periclymenus turned himself into various forms, including a
snake ( ), but he was eventually slain by Hercules (I.9.9).127
Recognizing that Canaan provided much of the iconography and
sym-bology for ancient Israel, F. Hvidberg concluded that, according to
Genesis 3, the serpent brought death and not life. He was the deceiver
who is not synonymous with Satan but with Baal, Yahweh’s old
adversary.128

Devil

The snake is perceived to be slimy. He is not warm and fluffy like a

puppy (cf. 2.25); thus, the apparently disgusting feel and behavior of
the serpent (e.g., swallowing another animal whole and sometimes
while it is still alive) caused the creature to become a symbol of the
Devil. The snake’s elusiveness (cf. 2.6), deafness (cf. 2.2), and
fearlessness (cf. 2.15), as well as its cold-bloodedness (cf. 2.12),
made him an ideal symbol for the Devil, Satan.129
In Second Temple Judaism, the serpent is most often identified with
the Devil or equated with the Devil, Satan. In the first-century CELives
of the Prophets, Habakkuk is reputed to have forewarned the faithful
that they will be pursued “by the serpent in darkness as from the
beginning.”130 Sometime at the end of the first century CE, the author
of the Vita Adae et Evae presented an expansion or Midrash on
Genesis. In his retelling the story of the Fall, the serpent is replaced by
the Devil, the adversary. Hear the words placed in the mouth of Adam:
“The Lord God appointed two angels to guard us. The hour came
when the angels ascended to worship in the presence of God.
Immediately the adversary, the devil, found opportunity while the
angels were away and deceived your mother so that she ate of the
illicit and forbidden tree. And she ate and gave to me.”131
In the Greek recension of this Pseudepigraphon, the serpent is not
the Devil. They become one in the dastardly act of Genesis 3. Note the
following excerpt:

And the devil spoke to the serpent, saying “Rise and come to me, and I will tell you something
to your advantage.” Then the serpent came to him, and the devil said to him, “I hear that you
are wiser than all the beasts; so I came to observe you. I found you greater than all the beasts,
and they associate with you; but you are prostrate to the very least. Why do you eat of the
weeds of Adam and not of the fruit of Paradise? Rise and come let us make him to be cast out
of Paradise through his wife, just as we were cast out through him.” The serpent said to him, “I
fear lest the LORD be wrathful to me.” The devil said to him, “Do not fear; only become my
vessel, and I will speak a word through your mouth by which you will be able to deceive
him.”132

The author is more interested in expanding and obtaining moral

lessons from Genesis 3 than in understanding it (as we shall see);133
he does not grasp that the serpent in the beginning had feet and did
not have to eat “weeds” or dust. He does, however, portray the serpent
as the vessel into which the Devil entered. The serpent and the Devil
are then one and the same.
In the New Testament, two authors equate, indirectly or directly, the
serpent with the Devil. Luke associates Satan and the serpent. Alone
among the Evangelists, he has Jesus state to the Seventy when they
return joyful: “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I
have given you authority to tread on serpents” (Lk 10:18–19). Within
the New Testament clearly, and within Early Judaism (300 BCE-200 CE)
probably, the clearest equation of the dragon, the serpent, the Devil,
and Satan is in Revelation 12:9. The passage is thus singularly
important to warrant a full citation: “And he was cast down—the great
dragon, the ancient serpent, the one called Devil and the Satan, the
one deceiving the whole world. He was thrown down to the earth, and
his angels with him were cast down.” Sadly missed in modern
translations is the intricately crafted inclusio: “He was cast down,” “they
were cast down.” The completed action of the thrice-used Aorist
passive is also impressive. Yet no translator could miss the equation:
The dragon is the serpent; he is the Devil, the Deceiver, and Satan.
Later, the author of Revelation sees another vision in which an angel,
holding a key and a great chain, seizes the dragon, that ancient
serpent, the Devil and Satan, and binds him within the bottomless pit
for a thousand years (20:1–3). The equation is so clear,134 graphic,
and pictorial that it has influenced almost all biblical scholars,135 who—
without hesitation—have told me for six years that I was wasting my
time because the serpent is simply Satan. A symbol clearly defined,
and in a canonical book that completes a perceived climax to
revelatory literature, should not determine how the selfsame symbol
was understood by others.
In the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the New Testament,
Satan appears as a snake. Only two examples must suffice. According
to the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy of the Savior 16, Satan takes the
form of a serpent. According to the First Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus
Christ 23, Satan appears as a dragon.
By the time of the Quran, the equation between the serpent and
Satan is so ingrained in consciousness that it influences Muhammad.
Note his words in “the Heights”: “Children of Adam, do not let Satan
tempt you just as he turned your two ancestors out of the Garden,
stripping them of their clothing in order to show them their private
parts.”136

Evil

The fierce independence (cf. 2.11), cold-bloodedness (cf. 2.12), and

sudden appearance of a snake (cf. 2.6) made it a good symbol for evil.
Among the Semites, especially those in the south, the serpent tended
to symbolize demons in the desert,137 a tradition that clearly appears
in the Books of Enoch. The Arabic jinn denotes both a desert evil spirit
and a snake.
The serpent often symbolizes the source of evil. In Sumerian and
Akkadian mythology, the serpent often symbolized evil.138 In ancient
Egyptian religion, Apophis, the serpent, was perceived as the
archenemy of the Sun God Re. In Indian religion, Kaliya, who is the
prince of serpents, symbolizes evil; he is conquered by Krishna.139 In
Native American lore, the dark of winter is perceived according to the
myth about the beginnings of time: then the sun was covered by the
powers of darkness, which are controlled by Sisiul, the serpent.
In biblical lore, the snake sometimes symbolized evil. A passage in
the Psalms that is well known announces that no evil will befall those
who make the Most High their dwelling place; indeed, note what they
will be able to do:

You will tread upon the lion and the cobra ,

The young lion and the dragon you shall trample under foot. [Ps 91:33]

We have seen how this biblical image was represented on clay by

Christians in North Africa sometime after the fourth century CE(Fig. 7).
According to Revelation 12:1–6, evil in the form of “a great red dragon”
pursues a “woman” who is depicted in terms of astrology and may well
symbolically represent the Church (and perhaps at the same time
Mary [double entendre]).
In the Song of Moses (Deut 32:1–43), the enemies of God and the
Hebrews are depicted as the poison of serpents and the venom of
asps. This passage is quoted by the author of the Damascus
Document who employs it to denote his hatred of kings (cf. also 1 En
37–71) and “the head of the kings of Greece” that render vengeance
on God’s people:

And each chose according to the wantonness of his heart, and did not remove himself from
(the) people. And they arrogantly became unruly, walking in the way of the wicked ones, of
whom God said, “The poison of serpents (is) their wine and the head of asps (is) cruel.” “The
serpents” are the kings of the peoples and “their wine” is their ways, and “the head of the
asps” is the head of the kings of Greece, who will come to do vengeance among them. [CD
MS A 8.8–12a]140

It is clear that the metaphor of the serpent and asp was chosen by the
author of the Damascus Document to stress the evil among the
leaders on earth: kings and the head of kings.
 We have examined ophidian and anguine golden jewelry.141 The
women of Pompeii were especially fond of these ornaments; many
examples are preserved in the world’s museums, including the Benaki
Museum in Ath-ens,142 and the Archaeological Museum in Naples (see
Appendix III).143 A stunning confirmation of our search for the serpent
as a symbol of evil and the evil one is found in The Instructor by
Clement of Alexandria (c. 150215 CE) of whose biography very little is
known. He castigates women who wear golden serpentine jewelry:

But now women are not ashamed to wear the most manifest badges of the evil one. For as the
serpent deceived Eve, so also has ornament of gold maddened other women to vicious
practices, using as a bait the form of the serpent, and by fashioning lampreys and serpents as
decoration. Accordingly the comic poet Nicostratus says, “chains, collars, rings, bracelets,
serpents , anklets, earrings.” [Paedagogos 2.13]144

Notably, Aphraate also uses the serpent to symbolize evil.145

According to the compiler of the Lives of the Prophets, the serpent is
evil and pursues people in darkness (as we mentioned earlier).146
The Rabbis tended to attribute sin to the snake in Eden. We even
hear that the snake shook the tree of knowledge and its fruit fell to the
ground. Then “he pushed” the woman and “she touched the tree.” The
serpent becomes the source of evil.147 Again, in an impressive
fashion, the Genesis story has been read with eisegesis and
impressionistically.
Although the Gnostic who composed the Teaching of Silvanus
refers twice to the “intelligence of the snake,” according to the Gnostic
who gave us the Apocryphon of John (the long version), Sophia of the
Epinoia gave birth to an evil monster named Yaltabaoth. This monster
is “ignorant darkness” and has a form different from her. He has the
shape of a lion-faced serpent.
Literary evidence that the serpent symbolizes evil comes from an
unexpected source. In The Acts of the Disputation with the Heresiarch
Manes, Archelaus claims that while the serpent symbolizes evil now,
he originally was not evil, but “willed” himself to be evil when he
encountered the human. Note this excerpt:

Even that great serpent himself was not evil previous to man, but only after man, in whom he
displayed the fruit of his wickedness, because he willed it himself. If, then, the father of
wickedness makes his appearance to us after man has come into being, according to the
Scriptures, how can he be unbegotten who has thus been constituted evil subsequently to
man, who is himself a production? But, again, why should he exhibit himself as evil just from
the period when, on your supposition, he did himself create man? What did he desire in him?
148

This is a rather odd and novel interpretation of Genesis 3.

Lions and snakes are joined iconographically in the ancient world.
For example, a fourth-century BCE funerary monument shows a lion
with a snake on its right hip.149 Lions and snakes appear in more
recent iconography. At St. Quenin, in southeastern France, one can
see a capital with two asps facing each other. Just below St. Quenin
and at St. Christol in the apse of a church is a capital with the depiction
of a lion biting a serpent.150 The lion seems to symbolize God and
resurrection, and the serpent death and the earth. If that is the
meaning, then the symbol of the serpent has been altered by Christian
ideas.
St. Patrick did not drive snakes out of Ireland. They ceased to exist
there after the Ice Age. This well-known myth developed because
Patrick became a saint, and he drove evil out of Ireland. The best
symbol to represent this belief is the serpent.

Evil Eye

The lack of movable eyelids and the inability to blink make the snake a
perfect symbol for the evil eye (cf. 2.4).151 One of the Greek words for
“snake” means the blind one . In many late Jewish and Christian
amulets, the snake appears to represent the evil eye.
It is not clear what the two snakes that end as ribbons on the lintel
stone of the School of Rabbi Eliezar ha-Kappar at Dabara mean. But,
given their time period and the fact that the snakes’ heads are in
eagles’ mouths, they suggest that the serpent imagery may denote the
evil eye.
The meaning of serpent imagery has come full circle. In Babylon,
the serpent symbolized the protection of the palace, but at Dabara the
snakes had to be killed by the ever-protective eagle. The geographical
setting is also important. I have seen eagles soaring around Gamla
and other places in the Golan. These birds of prey search out and eat
snakes.
In the late 1930s, R. Wittkower drew attention to the universal use
of iconography that showed the serpent and eagle together. Such
images are found in Sumer and Babylonia (c. 3000 BCE),152 India (c.
3000 BCE), Scythia (sixth-fifth cent. BCE), Turkestan (fourth-ninth cent.
CE), Java (eleventh cent. CE). Today images of the serpent and eagle
are seen in Mexico and Costa Rica.153 The snake appears with the
eagle in iconography found in many cities, including Alexandria,
Athens, Rome, Canterbury, and Constantinople.
The image of an eagle holding a snake continues into the modern
era; the symbol appears on medals, engravings, etchings, paintings,
doorknockers, mirrors, and sculptures.154 A good example of this
imagery appears in Blake’s Marriage of Heaven and Hell. The
reactionary forces in France chose the eagle, so the revolutionary
forces and Napoleon adopted the snake as their symbol.
Throughout the lore and myths of the ancient Near East are tales
about harmful and fearful monsters that are snakes. Sometimes they
have names like Behemoth, Leviathan, and Rahab (see Appendix I).
The human imagination and lack of knowledge of antiquity and of the
earth and its oceans led to dreams and speculations on the ferocity
and size of these ancient serpent monsters. This recognition helps us
comprehend why serpents appear with seven heads and other
oddities. MacCulloch stated so perceptively the relation between the
snake and the evil eye:

Although the serpent is frequently worshipped, its harmful character and the repulsion which it
arouses, its frequent large size and strength, and the mystery of its movements have often
caused a sinister character to be given it, and made it an embodiment of demoniac powers.
Because of the brightness of its eye and its power of fascination over animals the serpent was
commonly supposed to have the evil eye.155

The Jewish, Christian, and Gnostic amulets with serpents often reveal
the evil-eye power of the serpent (Fig. 87). Perhaps the same attribute
was embodied in the wooden and bronze images of serpents shown
earlier (Fig. 85).

Fear

The soundless swiftness of the snake, and its ability to appear

unexpectedly, helped to make the snake a symbol of fear (cf. 2.6).156
The need for a snake to swallow its victim whole, at once, and often
while alive also stimulated fear (cf. 2.9). The sheer size of snakes can
cause fear; the anaconda and reticulated python can grow to at least 9
meters, the king cobra to over 5 meters, and the Diamondback
Rattlesnake can weigh over 15 kilograms.157 No creature seems to
strike fear in the heart of the human as much as the snake.
 This fear aroused by the deadly snake is obvious to most humans,
especially when one is suddenly aware that one is too close to a rattler
whose unexpected warning sends shivers up and down the spine. I
remember a harrowing moment near dusk one summer in the
mountains of North Carolina. Without warning, and with shocking
suddenness, I had confronted at least five large rattlesnakes. I could
not imagine how I had become so unlucky. The whole area seemed
unexpectedly alive with the sound of rattlers. As my eyes became
accustomed to the dusk of the evening, I realized that in the darkness
—only 2 meters in front of me—were five large rattlesnakes.
Fortunately, they were housed in cages. They had been collected from
various areas of the mountains by the camp manager.
The snake is often a symbol of fear in Rabbinics. For example,
Rabbi Ben Azzai is reputed to have said, “Lie on anything but on the
ground for fear of serpents” (m. Ber. 62b).

Symbol of Corrupted Sex (the Phallus)

The elongated nature of the snake and its imagined phallic shape,
especially when aroused, stimulated reflections on sex (cf. 2.5 and
2.22). Also, the male serpent has two penises (hemipenes); thus, the
serpent symbolizes, sometimes, the phallus and sex (cf. 2.7). Plutarch
relates how Philip, the father of Alexander the Great, lost the sight of
his eye, which had been “applied to the chink in the door when he
espied the god, in the form of a serpent, sharing the couch of his
wife.”158 The association of the snake with the penis is widespread; it
may be mirrored in the early fear of Jews that in the privy a snake
might curl around one’s penis (/’. Ta’an 4.69a). The serpent often
symbolizes sex in dance and art.159
Due to the snake’s ability to represent opposites, as in the
caduceus, it can also symbolize the womb. From very ancient times,
serpent iconography appears with circles. This symbol is present in
pre-70 Judaism, as in the Herodian serpent pendant with circles.
These circles are called lozenges and signify the vulva. The serpent
with lozenges might symbolize the gates to the chthonic world.160
Sex can be violent, and sex crimes are as old as humankind. Today
we baptize them with less odious terms like “crimes of passion.” The
wild orgies of antiquity degenerated into corrupted sex. The gods with
a serpent as a phallus, especially Priapus,161 displayed the erotic
power of the lin-gam, but also connoted violent and corrupt sex (if sex
is defined as a caring and physical dialogue between two lovers).
We have seen significant evidence that the serpent is often a
negative symbol. The author of 4 Maccabees refers to “the seducing
and beguiling serpent” that defiles young women.162 In 2 Corinthians
11:2–3 Paul expresses a similar thought. Metaphorically, he compares
his converts to “a pure bride” who may be deceived, as Eve, by a
serpent.163
Should we agree with R. H. Isaacs: “The biblical snake is
continually used to represent temptation and power of evil”?164 Was P.
Haupt correct to conclude that in “the Story of Paradise the serpent
symbolizes carnal desire, sexual appetite, concupiscence”?165 Should
we concur with H.-G. Buchholz, who contended that in biblical lore the
serpent plays a negative role and is an unclean animal?166
That should now be unthinkable to the reader. Such conclusions
would create a biblical text from our own misperceptions. The serpent
is not necessarily an evil creature in Genesis 3, as we shall see. In
Numbers 21 two serpent symbols appear and one is clearly good and
salvific. Dan is likened to a serpent that guards Israel: “Dan shall be a
snake by the roadside” (Gen 49:17 [NRSV]).
Another fallacy needs to be clarified, exposed, and rejected. First,
some thinkers imagine that the serpent is primarily a negative symbol.
Second, others imagine that the snake symbolizes one of the sixteen
meanings previously described. Third, other thinkers imagine that
many of the images appear in a complex collage. All represent
misleading and misinformed positions. The snake can symbolize one
or more of these negative images, but it also can symbolize one or
more of the following positive concepts or images. Emphatically clear
is the perception that while the taxonomy of serpent symbology divides
into sixteen negative symbolic meanings, it also continues into no
fewer than twenty-nine positive symbolic meanings, as we shall see.
Moreover, some serpent symbols, like the caduceus, are clearly a
double entendre, and the paronomasia is most likely intentional; that
is, the serpent symbolizes both light and goodness as well as
darkness and evil. Let us now turn to examine how the biblical authors,
and others, saw the snake as a positive symbol.

POSITIVE SYMBOLIC MEANING

Twenty-nine positive meanings of serpent symbolism may be
discerned in the data already collected. Unfortunately, scholars and
nonspecialists have missed the positive symbolic meaning of the
serpent, myopically taking medicine without seeing that it is almost
always administered with a symbol: the caduceus or a snake curled
around a lance or staff.167
In ancient Greece, we noticed the preponderance of ophidian
imagery; some of it is clearly negative. Hercules is constantly
confronted with serpents. As a baby, he must struggle against two
snakes. Later he fights the Hydra, meets the snake in the tree in the
Hesperides, and is confronted by the serpent-dog Cerberus. Laocoon
and his sons are strangled to death by snakes. The Scylla often is
depicted with a dragon as a torso. Jason can obtain the Golden Fleece
only when Medea diverts the attention of the snake-dragon.168
Orpheus descends into Hades, searching for his beloved wife, a
beautiful nymph, who had been fatally bitten by a snake. At “the navel
of the earth,” Delphi, Apollo defeats the python.169
Despite these depictions of the snake as evil or harmful, ophidian
iconography in Greek mythology and theology was emphatically and
pervasively positive. Zeus, Apollo,170 Asclepius, Athena—virtually all
the Greek gods and goddesses—are presented as snakes or
accompanied and identified by snakes or serpents.171 The “Good-
Spirit” (Agathadaimon) appears as a large upraised snake; it was later
identified with the god Aion.172 Galen found amulets with
Agathadaimon helpful, advising that, when worn on the throat and
chest, they benefit the internal organs: “Some, indeed, set the stone in
a ring and engrave upon it a serpent with his head crowned with rays,
according as is prescribed by King Nechepsos in his thirteenth
book.”173 And at Delphi, a large column with three serpents (the Tripod
of Plataea) was erected near the temple of Apollo.174 A candelabrum
with a serpent with beard, eyes, and open mouth with its tongue visible
was found;175 archaeologists have also uncovered the Fountain of
Asclepius and a sanctuary of Asclepius.176 In Athens, three gods were
revered with ophidian iconography: Athena, Hermes, and a giant
snake.177 In the agora in Athens, the temple of Agrippa boasted
columns that featured Giants having anguipedes.
Figure 66. Left. Agrippa’s Temple. Right. Giants with anguipedes (close-up). Athens Agora.
JHC

Similar positive use of the serpent may be found in Jewish sources.

For example, according to the compiler of the Hellenistic Synagogal
Prayers, God has filled the world with, inter alia, the “hissings of
serpents” and “many-colored birds.”178
While sixteen negative symbolic meanings of the serpent have
been illustrated, at least twenty-nine positive symbolic meanings may
be ascertained. Thus, we shall now succinctly discuss the following
positive meanings of serpent symbolism:

Phallus, Procreation, Fertility,

Magic Mystery, Wonder, and Awe
and Good Sex
Fruitfulness Wisdom
Energy and Power God’s Messenger
Beauty (Judgment and Revelation)
Goodness Life
Guardian Water
Creation and Light Soul (and Personal Names)
Cosmos Health and Healing
Chronos Purifying
Kingship Transcendence
Divinity Rejuvenation
Unity (Oneness) Immortaility, Reincarnation,
Ancestor Worship and Resurrection
Earth-Lover Purely Decorative
Chthonic Riches and Wealth

Most examples of positive serpent symbolism come from the

Levant, even the land of Israel. We have seen that in antiquity positive
serpent symbolism was much more prevalent in the ancient Near East
(although not in the religion of Israel, especially after Hezekiah).179
The examples of positive serpent symbolism markedly outnumber
those of negative symbolism.
The Seraphim most likely were serpents with six wings (see
Appendix I). In ancient Christian illuminated manuscripts, paintings,
and frescoes, they appear with six wings (two over the genitals) and
with human faces, but they are not depicted with features of a serpent.
This is especially true in the monasteries of Meteora,180 near Thessaly,
the birthplace of Asclepius.181 Today, in virtually all parts of the world
the serpent symbolizes medical research and pharmacies. The
serpent is placed on medicines and prescription drugs. Note the signs
in Fig. 67 seen in Greece, West Jerusalem, and East Jerusalem.
While the snake is almost always regarded as a symbol of Satan or
evil today, the positive meaning of ophidian symbolism frequently
remains unperceived. The serpent is highlighted in the signs of
pharmacies and medical colleges (as just intimated). Quite
surprisingly, a drawing of three intertwined snakes (like the Tripod of
Plataea) appears as an embellishment of the first word in “T” in
numerous chapters in Sister Theotekni’s Meteora: The Rocky Forest of
Greece. 182 On Mount Nebo, the cross almost always is shown with a
serpent draped over it—clearly an interpretation of John 3 in light of
Numbers 21.
Figure 67. Serpent Signs in Greece (fop left), West Jerusalem (Israel Medical Association, top
right), East Jerusalem (bottom). JHC

While some of the data we have collected as serpent symbolism

cannot be neatly arranged under only one of these categories, most
are easily placed in one, or two, of the forty-five categories. There is
now no basis to doubt that the snake, above all animals, has provided
the human with the most varied and complex symbology. As
mentioned in Chapter 2, we need to recall that at the same time the
serpent may symbolize opposites (double entendre) as with the uraeus
and caduceus. The bearer of evil is neutralized (and perhaps
superseded) by the bearer of good. Each is symbolized as a serpent.
Perhaps the first is an evil snake, the second a benevolent serpent.

Phallus, Procreation, Fertility, and Good Sex

The male serpent has two phalli (each is a hemipenes). The female
produces an abundant number of offspring, as Aristotle knew (but he
may not have known that the reticulated python can produce a clutch
of one hundred eggs).183 These two characteristics—the male’s two
penises and the female’s fecundity—make the snake an ideal symbol
of sex and fertility (cf. 2.7). We have previously mentioned that the
physical appearance of the snake, especially when aroused, is
reminiscent of the engorged phallus (cf. 2.5). As many have observed,
and the Freudians popularized myopi-cally, the serpent can remind the
viewer of the lingam. Additional symbolic meanings of the serpent,
therefore, are procreation, fertility, good sex, and power.
 In the ancient Near East, the serpent played a part in sacred
marriages.184 According to Eusebius in his Preparation for the Gospel,
Porphyry wrote: “[The] phallic Hermes represents vigour, but also
indicates the generative law that pervades all things.”185
The bronze serpent pendant found in or near Jerusalem is also
strikingly reminiscent of the phallus. I have seen many images of the
hand and the phallus as amulets that were worn by soldiers who lived
in the first century; some of these images seem to be Jewish because
the marks of circumcision are clear. I have not found an amulet with
the depiction of a hand, a phallus, and a serpent. Such an amulet
would strikingly denote serpent symbolism as representing power.
Perhaps someday one will show up in the antiquities shops of Old
Jerusalem, but it might be a gifted forger’s attempt to supply such an
amulet.
Dionysus was symbolized as both a snake and a phallus.186
Sometimes it is far from clear what the cysta mystica (“the mystical
chest”) contained. What was inside? Did it include a snake or a
phallus? Were both symbols conflated?187 On coins the cysta mystica
often appears with one or more snakes.188 Generally, but not always,
the Greeks and Romans considered the snake, among other things, a
phallic symbol.189 According to Clement of Alexandria, as quoted by
Eusebius in his Preparation for the Gospel, the “mystic chests”
contained not “holy things,” but various common items such as a
“sesame-cake, and pyramids, and balls, and flat cakes full of knobs,
and lumps of salt.” What else was in the box? It included “a serpent
also, mystic symbol of Dionysus Bassarus.”190 Post-second-century
Christians, like Clement, were offended by serpent symbolism: “The
mysteries of the serpent are a kind of fraud devoutly observed by men
who, with spurious piety, promote their abominable initiations and
profane orgiastic rites.”191
With an awareness of Clement’s own disdain for serpents, we
should read his report about the bacchanals with some skepticism.
Clement reported that they

hold their orgies in honour of the frenzied Dionysus, celebrating their sacred frenzy by the
eating of raw flesh, and go through the distribution of the parts of butchered victims, crowned
with snakes, shrieking out the name of that Eva by whom error came into the world. The
symbol of the Bacchic orgies is a consecrated serpent. Moreover, according to the strict
interpretation of the Hebrew term, the name Hevia, aspirated, signifies a female serpent.192

There may be some historical truth in Clement’s account, but he is

striving to denigrate the worship of Dionysus.
No one should doubt that the serpent was used to symbolize illicit
sex. We should recall the iconography of the Greek and Roman erotic
gods whose phallus was upraised and sometimes resembled a
serpent.193 For example, Bes is frequently shown ithyphallically, and
sometimes his exaggerated protrusion is a snake.
Numerous gods or heroes were also believed to be Ophiogenae;
that is, they were born from mothers who had been impregnated by a
god that had appeared to them as a serpent in a dream or often as
beings in the temple of Apollo. Thus, the ancients linked the birth of
great men with a serpent. Such luminaries were Aristomenes,
Alexander the Great, Aratos of Sikyon, Scipio Africanus, Caesar
Augustus, the twins Commodus and Antoninus, Alexander Severus,
and Galerius.194 Was Jesus’ birth celebrated in myth only by a virgin
birth, as many of these other “Great Men,” to use a sociological term,
or was Mary also visited by an Agathadaimon? An apocryphal story
recorded in Aelian’s De natura animalium, seems to indicate that the
Jewish girl visited by a serpent during the time of King Herod was
none other than Mary, the mother of Jesus.195
A singularly important passage for comprehending serpent
symbology and procreation appears in another section of Aelian’s De
natura anima-lium. Halia, the daughter of Sybaris, entered a sacred
grove of Artemis in Phrygia.196 A “divine serpent” ( ,
draco quidam sacer) appeared to her; he was of “immense size.” He
lay , et cum ea coivit) with the young girl, “and from this union
sprang the Ophiogenis [snake-born ] of the first generation”
(12.39). While different interpretations seem possible, it is not clear
what the symbolic meaning is of the two serpents tied around the waist
with upraised heads on a god, dated to 580 BCE, in the Temple of
Artemis at Korfu.197
 The faience Minoan serpent goddesses or priestesses symbolized
many things desired by human; we have suggested fertility and the
need to protect the earth from destructive earthquakes. Their ample
hips, small waists, and full exposed breasts indicate they also
connoted good sex and fertility (see Fig. 28). The stunning artwork
showing Aphrodite with a serpent on her thigh, found on Mount
Carmel, clearly signifies good sex, power, and fertility (Fig. 23). The
same interpretation applies to the Aphrodite with a serpent curled
around her right arm; the figure found at Agrigento dates from the
second or first century BCE.198
The symbol of Diana or Artemis as a deer with a serpent around its
neck brings to mind many positive perspectives. Perhaps the snake
and the deer symbolized the fertility of the earth for humans.
In Peru, scholars have been impressed with figures having human
and serpent features. They date from approximately 200 BCE to 700 CE
and convey ideas preserved in sixteenth-and seventeenth-century
Spanish lexicons that are still evident today. According to A. M.
Hocquenghem, these images embody symbolically immortal power.199
In 1999, in the Museum of Ethnology at Rotterdam, the
Netherlands, African art was featured. One modern work was striking.
It depicted a woman with a pink serpent, with two large eyes, placed
on her chest.

Fruitfulness

The snake digs in a garden and aerates and irrigates it. The snake
also kills rodents that destroy vegetation (cf. 2.26). The serpent,
consequently, may symbolize fruitfulness. Sometimes this symbolism
is also related to the phallus and fertility.200 Kuster’s chapter on the
fruitfulness of the serpent is divided into sections, with the serpent
symbolizing the fruitfulness of: (1) vegetables and (2) animals.201 He
grounded his thoughts, typically, on the central theme of the serpent’s
chthonic character; from this basic concept comes the most important
symbolic meaning of ophidian symbolism: the serpent’s fruitfulness.
Along with the Earth-Mother goddesses, the serpent provides for the
fruitfulness of trees and also for the fertility of animals (including
humans). That symbology makes eminent sense in light of the
conceptual link between the serpent and the tree with its fruit, not only
in the Hesperides but also in Eden. The serpent is often depicted as
part of the tree or wrapped closely around it. Both the tree and the
serpent are chthonic; they are ones who can delve deep into the earth.
The relation between serpent and tree is evident from earliest times
and can be seen most likely on Late Bronze pottery from Betula.202
While the trees are stylized, they remain unmistakable. The
serpents appear with large eyes, as in other examples from the
second millennium BCE. The serpents seem to be depicted eating
something (probably fruit that is not shown) at the base of the
triangular upper part of the tree. If the one who painted the bowl or if
those who used or saw it imagined this interpretation, then we have
iconography and symbolism similar to and prior to the Yahwist who
composed Genesis 3 from earlier cultures such as the one
represented by this bowl. Note, especially, that the serpents are
depicted upright and standing, but no feet are drawn.

Figure 68. Ceramic Late Bronze Pot Probably with Tree and Serpents; from Betula, near Beth
Shan. JHC Collection

Most likely the serpent goddesses or priestesses of ancient Crete

also symbolized the link between the serpent and the fruitfulness of
nature. The images of a man holding two serpents upright, in a fashion
reminiscent of the Minoan goddesses or priestesses, also seems to
symbolize fruitfulness.203 The dove and serpents on the Canaanite cult
stands found at Beth Shan probably, as indicated earlier, denoted the
serpent’s relation with fruitfulness. The spring harvest festivals often lift
up the serpent as a symbol of the earth’s return to rejuvenation (viz.
with Agathadaimon and in the Demeter festivals in Athens in which
Demeter and the serpent were intertwined). The power of the serpent
to symbolize fruitfulness is linked with its presence and role in creation
in so many of the world’s myths (as, e.g., in Persephone and Zeus
Meilichios).

Energy and Power

Although the snake is without legs (now), it is amazingly swift and

energetic (cf. 2.1).204 The serpent is strong and powerful (see Fig. 13).
From the ancients we learn (of a myth) that there are snakes in India
that can strangle and swallow a full-grown elephant. This mythic lore is
grounded in the awesome power of snakes. They seem to be one big
muscle (and, to some ancients, symbolic, as just said, of a fully erect
phallus). It is clear why H. Egli in Das Schlangensymbol devoted a
chapter to the serpent as the symbol of power.205 Cassandra, Helenus,
Melampus, and Iamos received power from serpents when they were
sleeping.206
W. Foerster pointed to the “twofold character of the serpent.” The
animal represented the “primal power.” He offered the opinion that this
power resided in the ability of the snake to kill.207 This interpretation is
typically one-sided, as Foerster stressed only the negative features of
ophidian symbolism. Snakes are characteristically docile. Hence, the
Rabbis, observing that a poisonous snake will not bite if not aroused,
advised that even if a snake is coiled around one’s heel, one should
still continue to recite the Amidah (b. Ber. 5:1) and, if one is about to
be attacked, one may defend oneself while praying (b. Ber. 9a).208
When Foerster claimed that the power of the serpent resided only
in its ability to kill, he apparently never felt awe before an upraised king
cobra or held a part of a two-hundred-pound boa. If one studies the
anguipede Giants on the Pergamum altar,209 or the massive stone
Giants with one anguipede in Agrippa’s Odeion in the Agora of
Athens,210 or examines the ancient depictions of Laocoon, one feels
the power of serpent iconography. One does think immediately about
the lethal bite of a snake.
What is stressed iconographically is the awesome power of the
muscular and speedy serpent. The artists bring out the power of
serpent symbolism by revealing the way the anguipede Giants strangle
the gods and highlighting the tensed and mighty muscles of Laocoon.
Today one associates the power of a snake with its ability to administer
swift death, but in ancient iconography more stress is placed on the
serpent’s awesomeness and mys-teriousness, and its ability to avoid
illness and regain the look of youth at least once each year.
In interpreting Job, the Rabbis offered an example of God’s power.
They tell a story. God prepared a dragon-snake for a
female gazelle whose birth canal was too narrow for easy birth. The
snake bites her in the birth canal. It subsequently becomes stretched,
and the gazelle finally gives birth (b. B. Bat. 16b). The bite of the
dragon-snake did not kill; it possessed the power to assist God in
enabling the gazelle to give birth.
On the western wall in the Greek Orthodox Church at Capernaum,
one may look up to see an attractive new mural. Christ sits enthroned
in judgment. On his left and below him are two large figures. One is
the earth (ge). How is Christ depicted? He sits on two lions and holds
a serpent in his right hand. The other “being” judged is the sea
(thalassa). How is she portrayed? She is also with a serpent. What do
these ophidian symbols represent? I directed this question to a young
monk in the Greek Orthodox Church. Pondering Greek traditions, he
instantaneously answered, “power.”
Today fast and powerful sports cars are sometimes given the name
“cobra.” The Alfa Romeo’s logo has the sign of the upright serpent on
it. Lingering, sometimes unperceived, are examples of serpent
symbolism that are positive. The serpent continues to symbolize
power.

Beauty

The snake is simply one of the most beautifully decorated creatures

(cf. 2.19; also see Figs. 10, 15, 18). If it were not for the fear of an asp,
a cobra, a black mamba, and a Boomslang, the snake would be widely
hailed as one of the most attractive creatures on earth. While traveling
in the Sinai in 1877, A. F. Buxton saw a snake he described as “about
2 feet long, of a most gorgeous colouring.” In his journals he described
it as “lame-coloured.”211 In December 2002, Natalie Angier, in
“Venomous and Sublime: The Viper Tells Its Tale,” wrote her subjective
reflections on vipers: “Is there anything cooler than a snake or more
evocative of such a rich sinusoidal range of sensations? Snakes are
beckoning. Snakes are terrifying. Snakes are elegant, their skins like
poured geometry.” In the same publication, Dr. Jonathan A. Campbell
of the University of Texas at Arlington added, “Even those who don’t
like snakes have to admit their beauty.”212
Those who say they despise snakes are often found staring,
somewhat mesmerized, at a captive snake. If the snake is so horrible,
as most assume today, then why are there often four people in a zoo
standing watching elephants, six observing lions or bears, but dozens
investing their time within a serpentarium?
One reason we all watch snakes, in a place safe for us, is our
fascination with the snake and its innate beauty. As I said at the
beginning of this work, the large golden king cobra that rose and
looked me in the eye when I had just become a teenager was, and
remains, one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever confronted.
The Greek and Roman women who wore the gold bracelets and
rings with serpents depicted in the most realistic manner most likely
chose them—or were given the jewelry as a gift—because of the
serpent’s beauty. As we have seen, this serpentine jewelry is
astonishingly beautiful and often realistic (see Figs. 34, 35; cf. Figs.
18, 37, 39). In fact, the usual Greek noun for “serpent,” ophis, also
signifies a bracelet in the form of a snake.213
Josephus apparently thought the serpent provided appropriate
imagery for describing beauty. He mentions that the sumptuous linen
garment of the high priest was loosely woven as if “were the skin of a
serpent” (Ant 3.7.2).

Goodness

The snake does not aggressively attack, except for food. It protects
humans from harmful animals (cf. 2.27) and helps cultivate the garden
(cf. 2.26); hence, the serpent symbolizes goodness.
When I was in Galilee, in November 2002, while the present work
was in its final stages, I encountered two snakes. One was on the
Mount of Beatitudes. An Arab had cleared some brush and was
burning it. A small gray snake emerged. It was frightened and sought
every avenue for escape. The next day, while driving from Capernaum
to Gamla, I sped past a long black object on the road. I stopped the
car and slowly backed up. I found my camera and slid out of the car;
soon I was about 6 meters in front of a large black snake. It raised its
head, moved its body in contradictory directions, and then shot away
to my right, to hide—thus, proving that, for snakes, as for most
animals, the first line of defense is avoidance.214 The farmers in the
Golan protect these large harmless snakes because they rid their
farms of mice and other harmful creatures. For the farmers, long ago
and now, the snake was often a friend, and a symbol of goodness. The
snake in the Golan is called “Bashan” by the Arabs (cf. Appendix I).
Perhaps the best example of the serpent as the symbol of
goodness is the ubiquitous Agathadaimon, the good serpent that was
so popular in many cities,215 especially at Alexandria and Pompeii (see
Figs. 34–36). In the Agora Museum in Athens one can see a bronze
Agathadaimon with a human face and long hair. It is almost 8
centimeters high and dates from the Roman Period (Box 50). The
goddess Isis, who is often shown with a serpentine lower torso, also
represents goodness (see Figs. 50, 51). Athena symbolized wisdom
and might in battle; the ancients often depicted her with serpents on
her chest (Fig. 52). Sometimes Athena appears as Hy-gieia, as in the
phrase “Athena Hygieia,” and with realistic snakes on her
breastplate.216 In Palmyra, the statue of the goddess Allat is influenced
by those of Athena; notably, she is depicted with curled snakes on her
upper garment.217
Among Aphrodite’s many attributes—beside might, beauty, and sex
—is goodness; recall the serpent sometimes disclosed on her thigh
(see Fig. 23). Rabbi Shimon ben-Menasya lamented that the serpent
could have been “a great servant.”218 He also claimed: “[T]wo good
serpents” would have been given to each Israelite, to
serve them and assist in their work.219 In analyzing the votive feet and
the statues of Asclepius and Hygieia found in Roman Caesarea
Maritima, R. Gersht rightly stressed that the serpent “was perceived
not only as the being that is able to heal, like a dog, with the licks of his
tongue, but also as the embodiment of the mildness, goodness and
the philanthropy of the god and his daughter.”220 Such insights bring to
memory Plutarch’s report that Demosthenes pronounced Asclepius’
name so that the accent fell not on the final syllable, as is customary,
but on the third syllable so that the god was perceived to be “mild”
(epios). 221

Guardian

Our ancestors perceived the snake as the one who kills animals
harmful to humans, like rodents, mice, and rats (cf. 2.27); thus, it came
to symbolize the Guardian. The snake has no eyelids, so it cannot
close its eyes. This physiological characteristic has helped develop
such symbols as the uraeus (the rearing cobra) that represents the
Egyptian cobra (Naja haje), which can grow to about 3 meters.222 The
uraeus is not only the symbol of the Egyptian cobra goddess who
represented “life, order, and legitimate kingship,”223 it is also the
quintessential symbol of the divine guardian (cf. 2.4). As W. A. Ward
has demonstrated, a four-winged uraeus of the first millennium BCE on
Hebrew seals is clearly the Egyptian uraeus-snake. The uraeus
symbolizes the protection of gods and kings and destruction of all
enemies. Ward concludes: “Within its Hebrew context, the flying
serpent was both a protector and destroyer.”224 It is understandable,
therefore, why Egli, in his Das Schlangensymbol, devoted a chapter to
the serpent as guardian.225
In world folklore and myth, the serpent indeed symbolizes the
guardian. Ladon guards the golden apples in the Hesperides. A snake
watches Apollo’s gold in Scythia. A snake is sentinel of the rowan tree
of the Celts’ Fraoch. A “hissing serpent” (in Syriac)226 guards the
priceless pearl of the Hymn of the Pearl; and a serpent was guardian
of Athena’s temple in Athens.227 The Ishtar Gate was guarded by
monsters with a dragon’s tongue and a serpent tail.228 Fearsome
serpents, according to a text in Old Babylonian, were placed on a
temple gate bolt for apotropaic purposes.229 The Babylonian temple in
Neriglissar’s time boasted eight bronze serpents; two guarded each
entrance.230 Perhaps “the most accomplished piece of Middle
Kingdom prose literature”231 is the narrative about the Egyptian
attendant to Sesostris, named Sinuhe. He is in danger before the
pharaoh because he is a nomad and “roamed foreign lands.” Notice
how “the royal daughters” pleaded to the king for Sinuhe:

While the Cobra decks your brow,

You deliver the poor from harm.232

The reference is to the uraeus and it is a serpent that symbolizes the

protector of the poor.
The use of the uraeus to represent the serpent extended far
beyond the borders of Egypt. A four-winged uraeus from the seventh
century BCE has been found on a red jasper seal containing in Hebrew:
“Belonging to De-layahu, son of Gamliyahu.”233 The seal represents
culture in ancient Palestine. One of the most remarkable works of art
that heralded the beginning of the Classical Period in Amathus, on the
southern coast of Cyprus, is a limestone polychrome Hathor capital
with the image of two cobras above a small chapel. The two upraised
snakes have prominent eyes and wings and face in opposite
directions.234 From Amathus, then, comes a uraeus with serpents
facing in diametrically opposed ways. They are guardians.
We have examined and discussed the many serpents that appear
on Canaanite pottery, especially during the second millennium
BCE(Figs. 29-33). These serpents were placed on jars to protect the
contents, especially wine, oil, and water. Long ago, in the seventh
century CE, Topsell pointed out that serpents are the guardians of
treasures.
Plutarch reports that Demosthenes became jaundiced about public
service. He reputedly railed against Athena, the guardian of Athens
who was symbolically related to serpents, as we have seen, and the
owl, as illustrated on the many coins honoring her. Demosthenes, as
he was leaving Athens, asked: “O potent Guardian of the City, Athena,
how, pray, canst thou take delight in those three most intractable
beasts, the owl, the serpent, and the people?”235 Clearly, the guardian
of Athens is not only Athena but also the serpents that are with her.
Later, the Romans also put serpents on their coins to announce to the
world the protection provided by Rome. For example, Nero put snakes
on his coins.
A marble stele of about the third century BCE, now in the Thebes
Museum, has the inscription:

Zeus
The Guardian236

Many in antiquity probably perceived in this stele an allusion to the

guardian serpent, and few readers of the present work will miss a
possible link with the serpent Zeus Meilichios (Fig. 11).
We have frequently observed that serpents occupy a distinctive
place in the iconography of Athena, who played the greatest role in
public and private life in Greece. According to L. Bodson, among the
symbolic meanings of the different snakes depicted on the sculptures
of Athena were the protection of Greeks (the snake called Elaphe
quatuorlineata) and the destruction of their enemies (the Vipera
ammodytes). Herodotus (Hist. 8.41.3–4) reported, with amazement,
that Athenians continued to believe that a sacred snake dwelt in the
Erecthium.237
Serpents were often painted on warriors’ shields. Examples may be
found in most archaeological museums that feature Roman and Greek
antiquities, including the Vatican, the British Museum, the National
Museum in Athens, the Hermitage, and the Museo Archeologico di
Pithecusae on the Isle of Ischia at Lacco Ameno. In this museum are
the earliest remains of Magna Graecia (the great expanse of Greek
culture): ceramic cups and pitchers from about 700 BCE contain wavy
lines, either water or serpents, perhaps both. A fifth-century BCE
painted krater shows a coiled serpent on a soldier’s shield.238 No
details highlight the snake; its head is raised and on a diagonal line
with the head of the soldier. Most likely Greeks painted serpents on
shields to symbolize the warrior’s guardian.
A bronze serpent, without its head, was found beside a bust of
Tiberius and Livia in a Roman ruin at Ephesus. It has markings for
scales, seven curves, rises up, and is approximately 7 meters long.
According to M. L. Robert, this bronze serpent is an example of the
domestic cult in which the serpent symbolized protection and
prosperity.239
The monstrous gorgons, especially Medusa, symbolized the
protection offered by these deities (Figs. 17, 47, 48).240 The Medusa is
also found outside the Holy Land; a Medusa with serpent hair is
chiseled on the basalt stone in the third-century synagogue at
Chorazin. Many, including the famous Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598–
1680), crafted a marvelous statue or replica of Medusa; most
prominent are the serpents in her hair.241
The serpent has been seen as the perfect symbol of the guardian
(cf. esp. Constitutions of the Holy Apostles 4.4). He or she is placed on
gates and fences. The Vikings carved a dragon-snake and put it on the
prow of their ships to protect them from the dragon-serpent of the
deep. Serpents and dragons interchange or are indistinguishable in
iconography and sym-bology.
The Hebrew Bible seems to reflect the symbolism of the serpent as
the quintessential guardian. The author of Ecclesiastes advises that
one who “breaks through a wall” that protects another will “be bitten by
a serpent (V)ro).” Dan is heralded, as we have seen, according to
Genesis 49:17, as the guardian of Israel; he is like the adder that
causes one on a horse to fall. Recall the passage:
Dan shall judge his people
As one of the tribes of Israel.
Dan shall be a serpent on the way,
An adder on the path,
The one who bites the hoofs of the horse
So that its rider falls backward. [Gen 49:17]

Dan is here clearly portrayed as the serpent that guards the tribes of
Israel.

Creation and Light

The snake goes into the earth from which new life was perceived to
originate (cf. 2.18 and 2.24), and it disappears into the mysterious
depths of the sea (cf. 2.16) that was frequently mythologized in
creation accounts. Thus, the serpent became a symbol of creation in
almost all the myths.242 Many ancient thinkers and compilers of lore
and myth imagined an earlier day in which primal floods and large
serpents abounded (Leviathan especially). Winter’s work removes any
doubt about the abundant evidence from antiquity of the relation
between creator gods (and goddesses) and the serpent.243
In southern Mesopotamia, millennia before the beginning of the
Common Era, Akkadians used the serpent to signify birth, but our
understanding of early Mesopotamian symbolism is far from clear
since there is presently no comprehensive scientific study of serpent
iconography and symbolism in Mesopotamia.244 The emergence of a
human or god from the mouth of a large serpent is depicted in an early
Sumerian bowl now on display in the Staatliche Museen in Berlin. The
birth of a god from a serpent is featured also in early Akkadian and
Sumerian narratives.245
In many world cultures the serpent is seen as the source of
creation. In some myths, it is often conquered and divided into the
material world.246 Thus, only after Marduk slays Tiamat can he shape
heaven and earth out of her remains. According to the sagas of India,
Vasuki, the world serpent, is pulled in diverse directions by not only
gods but also demons; the result is the creation of the world. In ancient
Mexico, according to Nahuatl mythology, creation is dramatically
described as occurring after the slaying of a female monster by
Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca; the latter are gods who became
serpents. In Melanesia, some natives believe that their islands were
created by Wonajo, who was formed like a serpent. The Aborigines of
northwestern Australia attribute creation to the eggs of Ungud, the
serpent.247 A legend associated with New Guinea and the Admiralty
Islands indicates that the first humans came from a serpent.
Preserved on Coffin Texts of the Middle Kingdom in Egypt are the
words of the creator; he has performed four good deeds, and he is
with a serpent: “I repeat to you the good deeds which my own heart
did for me in the midst of the serpent coil.”248 In “Conversation of
Osiris with Atum,” part of the Egyptian Book of the Dead, the creator
god, Atum, discloses that he sometimes takes the form of the serpent:
“I alone am a survivor—together with Osiris—when I have changed my
form again into a serpent, which no man knows and which no god has
seen.”249
In the preceding chapter, we reviewed how serpent symbolism
helped the Greeks, Romans, and their contemporaries imagine the
creation of the world. The symbol looms large especially in the myth of
the Giants with anguipedes etched in the Pergamum temple. Other
myths of creation that shaped the Greeks and Romans come to mind.
The serpent is associated with an egg and often is imagined
impregnating a woman. Eurinome, one of the first Titans, the daughter
of Ocean and Teti, was the celestial queen until she was banished to
the sea. Her male counterpart is Ofione. He is the cosmic serpent who
is imagined, and portrayed, as encircling her.250

Figure 69. Arch of Titus. Roman Forum. Note the menorah from the Temple. JHC
 We have seen that the serpent can symbolize chaos and darkness.
In antiquity it also could denote creation, just discussed, and light. I
have selected only four examples of the serpent as a symbol of light.
First, the image of the serpent representing light appears in the
Melanesian, Finnic, and Aztec mythologies; in these myths the serpent
symbolized lightning. Second, inside the Second Shrine of Tut-ank-
amon,251 who is the “bodily Son of the Sun,” and on the ceiling, is a
depiction of Nut, under the solar disk. On her right and left are five
flying vultures; two of them have snake heads. On the left panel is a
“large mummiform figure of the king, his head and feet encircled by
two serpents biting their tails.”252 This figure may show one of the
earliest representations of the Ourobo-ros. Third, perhaps our best
insight into the serpent symbolizing light is a comment by the Egyptian
scribe called Epeis, whose work was translated into Greek by Areius of
Heracleopolis. The scribe reported that the “first and most divine being
is a serpent with the form of a hawk.” When this serpent opened his
eyes, he “filled all with light,” but “if he shut his eyes, darkness came
on.”253 Fourth, perhaps this early Egyptian serpent symbolism
influenced the author of the Pistis Sophia, who thought of the sun’s
disk as a large serpent-dragon with its tail in its mouth (Ouro-boros).
The Psalms constituted the hymnbook of the Second Temple.
According to Psalm 27:1, God is “my light .” According to Psalm
18:28, Yahweh is “my lamp .” The concept of God as light appears
in personal names: Neriah means “Yah[weh] is my lamp.” The original
form of “Abner” was “Abiner,” as confirmed by the Greek translation in
the Septuagint (LXX), and it means “My [divine] Father is a lamp (or
light) [for me].”254 Perhaps more memorable are Psalm 119:105, “A
lamp to my feet [is] your Word and a light to my path,” and Psalm
36:10 [9]: “In your light we see light.” Light was a prominent feature of
the Jerusalem Temple. Most important, the flames from the Menorah
filled the temple with light.255 According to the depiction on the Arch of
Titus, on the eastern end of the via sacra of the Roman Forum, two
serpents, as Leviathan,256 appear on shields of the octagonal base of
the menorah (candelabrum), which was taken as a celebrated spoil of
the Jewish War (66–70 ce).257 God was perceived as light and lamp to
Israelites and Jews, and in some way serpent symbolism was
included.258
One may wonder to what extent the brilliant light reflected from the
head of a cobra, especially a golden king cobra, may have aided in the
development of the symbol of the serpent as light. While the king
cobra is indigenous to India, one can imagine that some were brought
to ancient Palestine. Such reflections about the relation of light and
serpent symbolism are not restricted to the light seen stunningly
reflected from one type of snake. Many types of snakes, with their
glistening spotless skin, flash in the sun, especially cobras when
upraised.

Cosmos

The limbless snake can form a circle. By holding its tail in its mouth (cf.
2.5), it becomes a symbol of the cosmos. In many cultures, the snake,
or serpent, not only symbolizes but also shapes the concept of the
cosmos. The Ouroboros often depicts the unity of the universe (cf.
AcThom 31–33).
In India, Shiva is frequently depicted dancing within a circle,259
which may represent a serpent that has formed its body into a circle.
Shiva is also imagined as dancing with one pair of arms holding a
large cobra overhead.260 Kundalini, the divine cosmic energy of our
body, is called Bhujangi, the serpent.261 This serpent imagery reflects
the anatomy of a serpent, which is sometimes longer than a human
and essentially one united tube of muscle. The serpent as a symbol of
power and energy, from prehistory to the present, has helped humans
not only articulate or imagine but also perceive the energy that shapes
and defines the primordial essence of the universe, or cosmos, as
revealed in such natural phenomena as “bradisismo,”262 volcanic
activity, and the seemingly infinite gravitational pull of black holes.263 If
our human bodies are primarily empty space, then it is the cosmic
energy that unites the atoms of our bodies, which may be similar to the
power that enables planets to revolve around a sun. After spiritual
experiences, the human seeks to imagine or conceptualize the
somatic indwelling of the supernatural and mystical (the feeling of the
soprannaturale e misterioso). For the ancients and some today, the
symbol of this cosmic energy is the serpent. We perceived it earlier
when we focused on Zeus (Asclepius) Meilichios.
In western Europe, Thor is sometimes represented within a cosmos
shaped by the serpent Miogarosormr. In the New Testament, “a great
red dragon” defines the cosmos (Rev 12:1–6). M. Lurker summarizes
the cosmic nature of the serpent in diverse world cultures:
In Melanesian, Finnic, and Aztec mythologies, snakes represent the lightning; among the
Babylonians, in India, and in ancient Mexico the Milky Way was associated with a serpent. The
motif of the rainbow as a snake is found in Oceania and tropical Africa; the Dogon of West
Africa, for example, think of the rainbow as the serpent of the water god Nommo. Australian
tribes regard the rainbow snake, under the name of Yulunggul, as a creative divinity and
bestower of culture.264

In the Egyptian Book of the Dead, the cosmos was defined by the
serpent; the creator god, Atum, transforms himself into a serpent, and
the primeval monster is the snake Apophis. The solar boat must
transverse areas inhabited by snakes, change itself into a serpent,
and, inter alia, pass through a long snake before it reappears each
morning. According to Coffin Text 160, Re (the sun) tells the serpent
god who tries to obstruct him: “O you who goes on his belly, your
strength belongs to your mountain. But watch me as I go off with your
strength in my hand!”265 Also in Egypt the uraeus had solar
significance, and in some Greek magical papyri Helios (the sun) was
often portrayed as a serpent. In Egypt, the astral significance of the
serpent was clearly recognized and celebrated.266 In his “Conceptions
of the Cosmos,” Keel points out that in an Egyptian drawing of the
heavens (Fig. 19) the “space between the two pillars and the sky is
filled … with the king’s name (‘Serpent’) inscribed on it.”267
Thus, it is evident that R. S. Hendel was on target about the cosmic
dimension of serpent symbolism when he wrote: “The semantic range
of the snake in Egypt is well-illustrated by the contrast between two
cosmic snakes: Apophis and Ouroboros.” He argues, correctly, that in
the contrast between the two cosmic snakes the serpent “appears as
both exponent of and limit on the powers of chaos and
nonexistence.”268 Again, we confront the striking double entendre of
serpent symbology.269
In some legends and myths, rainbows are serpents touching the
earth or drinking water.270 The Aborigines developed a myth of the
rainbow serpent, as mentioned earlier.271 In Persian lore and
elsewhere, the rainbow is explained as a great snake, and eclipses are
understood as the attempts of dragon-serpents to swallow the sun or
moon.272 Apparently, the author of Job perceived the serpent in
cosmic terms:

By his spirit he adorned the heavens,

His hand pierced the fleeing serpent Job 26:13]

In Greek, Arabic, Syriac, and Latin the word for “snake,”

respectively drakon, hayya, hawwdya, and serpens, also denotes the
constellation Draco, which is between Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, as
well as the constellation “Serpens,” which is in the hand of
Ophiuchos.273 Servius reports that there are three serpents in the
heavens.274 The monument (c. 161 CE) celebrating the apotheosis of
Antoninus Pius and Faustina features Mars holding a globe, the
cosmos, around which is curled a large snake.275 As we have seen,
Zeus is often depicted as a serpent or partly serpentine, and it is no
surprise that volume 1 of the magisterial work on Zeus by C. Cook is
entitled Zeus, God of the Bright Sky.
In ancient times, the serpent is sometimes positioned entwined
around a tree, with a piece of fruit on each side of its head and with the
sun to the left and the moon to the right.276 The author, or at least
those who saw this symbol, thought about the ways the serpent helped
the human conceive the cosmos.
Epiphanius mentions a gnostic system in which the archon of the
lowest sphere is a dragon that swallows the souls without gnosis.277
As Hans Jonas perceived, the serpent often symbolizes the cosmos
and gnosis.278 Serpents formed into a caduceus are featured on the
Zodiacal Disk from Brindisi.279 The heavens are sometimes imagined
in the Hellenistic and Roman world as snakes. They appear either as
stars or the stars are their symbols.280
These reflections disclose another meaning of the incense stands
found at Beth Shan. The serpents and birds probably symbolized
spring and the return of fertility. They also signified, at least to some of
the Canaanites, something more. An informed imagination allows the
human who participated in the serpent cult at Beth Shan often to
perceive the serpent and dove as symbolizing the cosmos. Most likely
for many in ancient Palestine, especially the Canaanites, the serpent
symbolized the chthonic world, the human the earthly realm, and the
dove the heavenly spheres.
The symbolism can be reversed. The snake could be depicted as
threatening the dove, as in the Roman sculpture of a girl protecting a
dove from a snake.281 Then, the cosmic dimension of serpent
iconography and symbol-ogy has been lost.
Shelley perspicaciously grasped the cosmic symbolic significance
of the serpent. Note his words:
When priests and kings dissemble
In smiles or frowns their fierce disquietude;
When round pure hearts a host of hopes assemble;
The Snake and Eagle meet—the world’s foundations tremble!282

Figure 70. China. Gold Cobra, about five hundred years old. JHC Collection

Jerusalem was built by Solomon and his descendants to replicate

the cosmic garden: Eden, or Paradise. The western side of the Kidron
Valley was sculptured into “a cascade of gardens and parks.” As L. E.
Stager states: “The original Temple of Solomon was a mythopoeic
realization of heaven on earth, of Paradise, the Garden of Eden.”283
Would snakes have not crept into this earthly paradise, and would that
fact not have marred the symbolism? Was not the snake banished
from the Garden of Eden? Surely, not only the author of Genesis 2:4b-
3:24 (the Yahwist known as “J”), but many Israelites knew that,
according to the Genesis myth, the serpent was never banished from
Eden. Why would the Yahwist conclude his story with the expulsion of
only the humans: “So he drove out the man ” (Gen 3:22–24)? If
the Yahwist wrote at a time when Jerusalem was richly endowed with
flowering parks and gardens, undoubtedly an attractive habitat for
crawling things like serpents, would he not have been motivated to
keep the snake in the edited story also?284

Chronos

The snake is elongated and limbless (cf. 2.5). When shaped into a
line, it can symbolize linear time. The ubiquitous and circuitous
Ouroboros frequently, and perhaps fundamentally, symbolized time
and eternity; it was not only beginning but also end. Time was often
perceived, as among the Stoics, as circular.
The shape of the serpent symbolized oneness, unity, and
completion. It could also symbolize time for the ancients.
In south-central Ohio there is a “Serpent Mound.” It is a more than
400-meter-long image of a snake. The date now suggested, thanks to
radiocarbon dating, is 900 to 1600 CE. Some experts believe that the
Serpent Mound is aligned with the summer solstice sunset and
perhaps with the winter solstice sunrise. The dating of wood charcoal
found in situ points to circa 1070. Is it mere coincidence that Halley’s
comet appeared in 1066?285

Kingship

The snake shows no fear (cf. 2.15) and appears never to age and to
be immortal (cf. 2.17). It (he, she) has a regal bearing (cf. 2.19 and
2.28), is physiologically unlike humans (and most creatures; cf. 2.23),
and can administer death (cf. 2.20). These physical characteristics of
the snake lie behind the perception of the serpent as denoting and
connoting kingship. Analogous to the concept of the serpent
symbolizing wisdom is the depiction of the “king” or ruler as protected
or framed by serpents.
From Mesopotamia come mythological scenes in bas-relief on a
steatite basin. These depict a man holding two serpents that are larger
than he; they most likely date from the end of the fourth millennium
BCE.286 Likewise, from Mesopotamia (but from c. 2275 to 2260 BCE)
comes a libation beaker that shows two serpents coiled around an
upright staff. On both sides one can see a winged dragon with a
serpent’s head topped by a horned crown; it has front legs with lion
paws and back legs with bird’s claws.287 Assyrian seals depict a
serpent, thus representing godly and kingly powers and protection.
In various, sometimes antithetical, ways, the serpent represented
“power.” For Isaiah, the threatening powers were Leviathan and a
dragon (Isa 27:1). For the Egyptians the uraeus, an aroused cobra or
asp, was placed in royal palaces and on the heads of pharaohs to
symbolize their godly and kingly powers (see Figs. 24 and 25). It is
thus no surprise to see on Tutankhamen’s throne winged serpents
rising majestically from the back.
In the Greek world, the supreme God was Zeus and in the Latin
world Jupiter (Fig. 57). He was sometimes challenged by the
popularity of Asclepius, who promised health, healing, and immortality
(e.g., Figs. 1 and 58). Both supreme gods appear with, and sometimes
as, serpents and they sometimes conflate or merge (Fig. 11). Both
were perceived to have kingly powers, especially Zeus, who is
sometimes depicted as Zeus Meilichios.
In myths, especially in the Greek and Roman world, the divine
kings were depicted as serpents or had serpent features.288 Citing
Pausanias (1.36.1), W. R. Halliday pointed out: “These snake kings
were sometimes the slayer of snakes. Kychreus appeared in snake
form at the battle of Salamis to help the patriot Greeks.”289
Long ago, Wellhausen pointed out that the princely family of Taiji
ofthe Arabian dynasty in Edessa and the kings of Abyssinia (Ethiopia)
were supported by lore that claimed they were descended from
serpents.290 In Taiwan, the Paiwan chieftains during festivals are
portrayed with a serpent. As is well known, the dragon (a mythically
large serpent) signified the emperor in China.

Divinity

The apparent invisibility and elusiveness of the snake have evoked

reflections on its divinity, since God has been experienced as not only
invisible but also elusive (cf. 2.13). The same reflections apply to the
snake’s ability to symbolize the hidden one (cf. 2.14). The snake also
appears to show no emotion (cf. 2.21); its expressionlessness
suggests superiority, even divinity. The snake can only hiss and is
without voice; its inability to make sounds like other animals might lead
to reflections that it lives within the world of silence in which
communication with God is possible (cf. 2.3). The snake’s simulated
smile might lead to reflections that it is at peace because it is one with
the source of peace: God. The ability of the snake to forgo eating for
months elicited reflections on its divinity (cf. 2.10). The fact that the
snake is rare and unusual since it does not smell and is thus invisible
and elusive (cf. 2.29) helped stimulate reflections on ways the serpent
symbolized God.
In the preceding study, we saw ample evidence of ophiolatry, the
worship of the snake.291 Surely, many of the snakes made of gold and
silver once belonged to an ophiolater (a worshipper of snakes). The
second millennium BCE was a time of snake worshipping, and not only
worshipping through snakes; the best examples are on Crete with the
Minoan snake goddesses (or priestesses) and in the Canaanite snake
cults at Beth Shan and Hazor. The Sinaitic Inscriptions contain a
reference to a goddess of snakes, “the Serpent-Lady, my mistress.”292
As H. Frankfort showed, the entwined serpents that form a
caduceus on the steatite Gudea Vase from Lagash symbolized the god
Ningizzida.293 According to the author of the Prayer of Jacob, the
Father of the Patriarchs, the Creator, sits upon “the s[er]pen[t]
gods.”294
According to Eusebius in his Preparation for the Gospel, Sanchuni-
athon, through Philo of Byblos’ translation, explains how the serpent
symbolizes divinity:

The nature then of the dragon and of serpents Tauthus himself regarded as divine, and so
again after him did the Phoenicians and Egyptians: for this animal was declared by him to be
of all reptiles most full of breath, and fiery.… It is also most long-lived, and its nature is to put
off its old skin, and so not only to grow young again, but also to assume a larger growth; and
after it has fulfilled its appointed measure of age, it is self-consumed.295

We are also dependent on Eusebius for the claim of the Egyptian

scribe Epeis, which was noted earlier, that the “first and most divine
being is a serpent with the form of a hawk.”296
In Greece, as we have demonstrated in Chapter 4, gods appear
with serpents and as serpents. Earlier in Egypt the same was
widespread; in hieroglyphics the snake is drawn to indicate ideograms,
including “goddesses.”297 The hieroglyphic sign of a snake with horns,
probably a horned viper (f), combined with t dejotes a “viper,” and as
f’g.t (with a horned viper at the beginning and a cobra at the end)
specifies the goddess Nech-bet.298 The “living god” Netjerankh is
represented as an upright snake.299 Josephus reports that the
Egyptians believe that one who is bitten by an asp is “happy” and
approved by the gods (Against Apion 2.7).
We need to add what has already been said about Zeus as a
serpent. The Greeks believed that he transformed himself into a snake
to woo his bride.300 Herodotus (Hist. 2.74) reports that “sacred snakes”
were “buried in the sanctuary of Zeus.”
In the Agora Museum in Athens, one can see a ceramic plaque
from the seventh century BCE(no. 21). It shows a goddess with both
hands raised. On each side of her is a raised serpent.
In Persia, according to the historian Philo of Byblos, who wrote
about the same time as the author of the Fourth Gospel, Zoroaster
was sometimes celebrated and honored as a god who had the form of
a serpent, but a hawk’s head. According to this Philo, Zoroaster, in his
teachings, held that the one

who has the head of a hawk is god. He is the first, imperishable, everlasting, unbegotten,
undivided, incomparable, the director of everything beautiful, the one who cannot be bribed,
the best of the good, the wisest of the wise. He is also father of order and justice, self-taught,
and without artifice and perfect and wise and he alone discovered the sacred nature.301

There is no reason to doubt that Philo of Byblos depicts Zoroaster as a

serpent god. He includes this excerpt in his section on serpents, and
prior to this excerpt refers to the “snake with the form of a hawk.”302 It
is interesting to observe and ponder why centuries earlier the artisans
who constructed the mask for Tutankhamen placed above his eyes the
hawk and the serpent.
An Elamite seal impression of circa 1600 BCE depicts the Elamite
serpent god seated on a snake and above a column of two entwined
snakes.303 This is reminiscent of the bronze column showing a serpent
with three heads at Delphi. According to Herodotus (Hist. 9.81), the
column commemorated the defeat of the Persians in 479 BCE.
Constantine moved the snake column to Constantinople; it was
unearthed in 1855 and what remains of the masterpiece can be seen
today in Istanbul.304
Figure 71. Byzantine Glass Appliqued with Serpent with Prominent Head. Found in or near
Jerusalem. JHC

Hezekiah destroyed the Nechushtan. Most likely this name

represented a huge image of a serpent in the Jerusalem Temple (2
Kgs 18). Those who worshipped this serpent image could appeal to
the tradition that Moses had created it, or one like it. And Moses had
followed God’s command, according to the ancient traditions (Num
21).305 According to the Acts of Philip, Bartholomew and John suffer
hardships because of much wickedness from those “who worship the
viper, the mother of snakes” (8:94). The ways a snake may symbolize
the divinity are thus not only varied and complex but also transcultural,
even when we allow that in the Levant there was much shared
symbolism.

Unity (Oneness)

No other animal is as streamlined as the snake. It is simple and sleek.

The ancients perceived it as the quintessential symbol of unity or the
symbol one. Thus, the limbless snake in its sheer simplicity represents
unity and completeness. It can also, because of its lack of
appendages, symbolize one (cf. 2.5). This aspect of serpent
symbology is best represented by the Ouroboros that sometimes has
inside it a Greek inscription that means “all (is) one.”
The bronze, silver, and gold bracelets, earrings, and rings complete
a circle (Figs. 34, 35, 38–40). Such serpent jewelry can represent
more than apotropaic power.306 They symbolize also unity or the
symbol one.

Ancestor Worship

The snake often lives deep in the earth where the ancestors are buried
(cf. 2.14, 2.18, 2.24); hence, the serpent came to symbolize ancestor
worship. In Hastings’ classic Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics,
MacCulloch offered the opinion that ancestor worship was a dimension
of the ancient serpent cult “in so far as certain snakes haunting houses
or graves were associated with the dead.”307 Snakes are sometimes
perceived as an embodiment of one who has died. Seeing snakes
living near or in graves and tombs stimulated the imagination of the
ancients. Perhaps such belief was enhanced if one, descending into a
burial chamber, especially in or near Jerusalem in antiquity, notably
during the Iron Age, approached a body that had lost its flesh and saw
a snake slither away into the darkness.
In the Greek world, the snake could be a personification of the
grave and bearer of the soul of the dead.308 As W. Burkert states, the
Greeks believed not only that “the deceased may appear in the form of
a snake;” they also thought that “the spinal cord of the corpse” could
be “transformed into a snake.”309 Plutarch, Ovid, and Pliny the Elder
record the folk belief that the marrow of the dead could metamorphose
into a snake.310

Earth-Lover

The snake must receive its warmth from the sun or the earth; hence, it
is often associated with the earth and perceived as the Earth-Lover (cf.
2.12). In Babylon, the serpent is the offspring of Ka-di, the earth
goddess. Küster devotes a full chapter to the serpent as the spirit of
the earth (Erdgeist). This seems especially appropriate for legends
and myths associated with Cybele, Cerberus, the Giants, Hydra,311
Tryphon, and others.312 Serpent symbolism is associated with the
earth deities, like Demeter, Hecate, and Kore. In some myths,
Asclepius was imagined to have originally been an earth god.
According to the Hermetica, when Isis instructs Horus, we hear that
“snakes and all creeping things love earth .”313

Chthonic

The snake can disappear into the earth (cf. 2.18), lives in caves
beneath the earth, frequents graves, and hibernates within the deep
recesses of the earth for months (cf. 2.24).314 Thus, the serpent is the
primal symbol of the chthonic world.315 Such iconography and
symbology appear in neo-Assyrian and neo-Babylonian art and in the
Egyptian Coffin Texts.316 The numerous images of three chthonic gods
standing on a serpent are a significant indication of the Egyptian
perception of the serpent as a symbol of the underworld.317 One can
easily comprehend why Egli, in his book on serpent symbolism,
emphasized that the serpent was the symbol of the underworld.318
In Mythologies of the Ancient World, S. N. Kramer points out that
the serpent was customarily perceived as “the primary ‘body’ of any
autoch-thonic deity in historical times.”319 Ancient Hittite mythology
involved tales that served cultic needs. Perhaps the best known of
these myths entails the fight between the Storm-god and the Dragon
who is called illu-yanka. This is both the proper name of the monster
and the common noun for “dragon” or “serpent.”320
Long before the Greeks and Romans, Assyrians and Egyptians, as
well as others, observed the snake and accorded it mysterious
chthonic knowledge. In The Gods and Symbols of Ancient Egypt, M.
Lurker succinctly and accurately accesses this dimension of serpent
symbolism:

As a chthonic animal the snake was one of the life-creating powers, for example, the four
female members of the Ogdoad bore snake heads and Amun appeared as a primeval deity in
the form of he serpent Kematef. When the corn [= wheat]321 was brought in and wine was
pressed, an offering was made to the harvest goddess, Thermuthis, who was serpentine in
form or was depicted as a woman with a serpent’s head. Furthermore, the demons of time and
certain divisions of time were in the same form; the two-headed snake Nehebkau appears in
the book of the netherworld, Amduat, and the attendant vignettes.322

Critical studies on hieroglyphics stress that Amun is symbolized in a

serpent’s body.323
When we discussed the Minoan serpent goddesses or priestesses
we suggested that these images denoted chthonic power. Perhaps
some Minoans saw in such images a way to control earthquakes and
certainly to stimulate the fertility of the earth (Fig. 28). A. Evans offered
his erudite opinion that the Minoan snake goddesses or priestesses
signified “apparently the Underworld form of the great Minoan
Goddesses.”324 As A. Golan states in Myth and Symbol: “The serpent
was the preferred incarnation of the deified lord of the lower world.”325
Küster arrived at the conclusion that, for the Greeks, the major
characteristic of the serpent is its chthonic character. Serpents were
“chthonic gods” (x86voi 8EOI).326 We have seen funeral dedicatory
reliefs that suggest that the serpent is chthonic. Asclepius and his
companion snake were also considered to be chthonian. The dream of
devotees of Asclepius, when they learned that an illness was fatal,
could be comforted by the thought that Asclepius was chthonic. He
controlled the next world; moreover, Asclepius had the power of
resuscitation.

Magic
The snake is open-eyed (cf. 2.4) and elusive (cf. 2.6), can live for very
long periods without food (cf. 2.10), can be almost imperceptible (cf.
2.13), and appears to have magical knowledge (cf. 2.16 and 2.17).
These physiological characteristics and mysterious habits of the snake
made it a symbol of magic. It appeared and disappeared without
sound or warning. It can move through grass almost unperceived; the
leaves do not even move.327 In antiquity, the serpent’s ability to move
and climb became proverbial; for example, note the following imagery
in twelfth-century BCE Assyria: “Like a viper on the rugged mountain
ledges, I climbed dexterously” (Annals of Tiglath-pileser I 2.76–77).
The Ugaritic snakebite incantations use paronomasia (a play on
words) to cause the desired magic.328 MacCulloch surmises that the
armlet or charm and other serpent iconography from the Paleolithic
Period “might have been for some such magical rite as that of the
Arunta.”329
The hand of the god Sabazius is often shown holding a pinecone
and animals, especially a snake. The depiction reflects some form of
magic, since the pinecone, frog, lizard, and snake were imagined to
possess magical powers.330 In Oneirokritica 4.67, Artemidoros tells of
a dream in which a woman sees herself giving birth to a snake who
becomes a mantis.
Not only in the ancient world but also in modernity, snakes
symbolize magic. The Australian shaman can claim that a snake is his
Budjan (friend who supplies any necessary magic). Citing Hunt’s Drolls
and Romances of the West of England, Halliday reported that, within
the past two hundred years, a Cornish magician was seen to appear
as a large black snake.331
According to the authors and compilers of the Hebrew Bible (Old
Testament), Moses’ ability to change a staff into a snake is saluted as
the presence and support of the only God. It is an example, however,
of magic. Moses’ use of the staff that he turned into a snake was a
potent symbol because the snake was imagined to possess magical
powers. This aspect of Moses’ skills is highlighted in the Qur’an. Note
the passage in “Poets”: “So he (Moses) cast his staff down and
imagine, it was clearly a snake! He pulled out his hand [from his
shirtfront], and imagine, it was white to the spectators! He (Pharaoh)
told the councilmen around him: ‘This is some clever magician who
wanted to drive you out of your land through his magic’ “ (26.32).332
In Hebrew, denotes not only snake [with accent on the
ultimate syllable]) but also “divination” or “magic curse” (nahal [with
accent on the first syllable]). The latter provides the meaning of nhl in
Syriac; that is, means augury, or “divination.” While it is
conceivable that the two meanings are related etymologically in
Hebrew, some, maybe many, Hebrews, Israelites, and Jews imagined
the “serpent” to be related to divination. Evidence of ophiomancy,
divination through serpents, continued from the ancient world through
to the medieval world, and is prevalent today in India and Africa.

Figure 72. Aramaic Incantation Bowl with Serpent on the Handle. Circa 600 ce. JHC
Collection

Mystery, Wonder, and Awe

The unfathomable mechanisms of snakes, their ecological diversity

and fascinating evolutionary process, their ability to retain feces
(sometimes fecal matter can constitute 20 percent of a snake’s
weight), their skill in remaining inert 95 percent of their lives, and their
ability to remain in or return to one home, cumulatively have elevated
the snake so that it is mysterious, wondrous, and awesome to
humans.333 The quiet and swift movement of the snake and its
elusiveness caused it to become a symbol of mystery, wonder, and
awe (cf. 2.6). The snake’s disturbing independence enabled it to
symbolize mystery and wonder (cf. 2.11). The snake’s grandeur and
majestic beauty and size (cf. 2.28) helped to support the ability of the
serpent to symbolize awe.334
In his Histoires de serpents dans I’Egypte ancienne et moderne,
Keimer includes an insightful study of snake charmers. Most
interesting is his study of serpents on ancient Egyptian monuments.
According to some ancient authors (viz. Diadorus Siculus and Pliny the
Elder) and ancient drawings, snakes were once imagined to be longer
than full-grown elephants.335 The uraeus, “the one who rises”
according to hieroglyphics (I’r-t), appears today when a cobra rises
before his charmer. The Arabic noun for cobra is ndsir, “the one which
unfolds (or spreads out).” References to a snake charmer are ancient;
they appear in Sumerian literature.336
In the distant past, before human recorded history, marvelous and
mysterious creatures lived on this earth, according to ancient lore.
Only two examples must now suffice to illustrate the wonder and
mystery associated with snakes or serpents.
First, according to the Middle Kingdom Egyptian tale The
Shipwrecked Sailor, an attendant to an official tells about a mysterious
island that can disappear. The sailor relates how on this island he met
a snake 30 cubits (about 16 m) long whose body is overlaid with gold
and whose eyebrows are of “real lapis lazuli.” This snake has
awesome powers and can foresee the future. He is “the lord of Punt”
and “the lord of the island.”337
Second, a certain Babylonian named Berossus sometime
before the second century BCE, because Alexander Polyhistor cites
him, composed a history of Babylonia. In his work, Berossus referred
to the primordial time “in which there was nothing but darkness and an
abyss of waters” (cf. Gen 1). Then, Berossus adds, “mysterious
animals … BauLtaata]”338 like the snake appeared, mixing in their
own forms the shapes of other animals.339 The Dionysiac mysteries
cherished a cysta mys-tica; that is, a box in which most likely a snake
was kept. The snake was perceived, sometimes, to be Dionysus
himself. As H. Leisegang pointed out, the serpent symbolized mystery
to the Greeks.340
The author (or compiler) of Proverbs counts four things that are
“too wonderful” for him so that he cannot understand them. The
second listed is “the way of a serpent on a rock” (Prov 30:19). As
Halliday stated: “[The] snake has everywhere been an object of awe
and reverence. The deadliness of the snake’s bite and its uncanny
appearance have marked it out for fearful adoration.”341 Thus, the
serpent instills awe in many; he or she is the one filled with awe, and
perhaps awful, whether one uses the category of the “Holy” with Otto,
the “Powerful Awful” of Lang, or the “Zauberkraft” of Preuss. From
ancient times until today the serpent symbolizes the awe-filled
presence of “Le sacré.”

Wisdom

The snake can descend into the bowels of the earth and learn the
origins of plants and life (cf. 2.24); thus, the serpent can symbolize
wisdom. The snake has no ears; its silence probably leads to
speculations that it is attuned to the wisdom of the spiritual world (cf.
2.2). The snake also has no eyelids and cannot stop staring; this open-
eyed quality of the snake gives grounds for reflections on how it
represents wisdom, which is often associated with the eye.342 W.
Foerster rightly points to the “distinctive and often hypnotic stare” of
the snake.343 I recall this look in the eyes of the cobra that rose up
before me when I was on my knees photographing it in Marrakech. As
pointed out repeatedly, the eye is the one feature that appears most
prominent in ancient ophidian iconography. The eye symbolized the
wisdom of the serpent.344 There is a proverb in Arabic: “He is more
sharp-sighted than a serpent.”345
In Utrecht, the Netherlands, an antiquarian bookseller has given
the name “Cobra” to his store.346 Why? It cannot be that he wants
something devilish to be associated with his name; he is most likely
thinking about the serpent as the symbol of wisdom. Beginning in the
early second century CE, the Ophites imagined that the serpent
embodied divine wisdom (see Appendix IV).347
Advanced research on serpents seeks to understand why and how
so many different species of snakes can inhabit the same area. Is it
because various snakes seek different prey? Is it because of the
different times snakes devote to hunting: morning, noon, or night? Is it
because the snake is one of the most inquisitive animals? Is that not
related to the serpent as symbolizing wisdom?
The serpent denoted the ability to comprehend and obtain wisdom.
Philo contended that the serpent symbolized “a bond of love and
desire . The serpent was under the rule and dominion
of pleasure ” so that the apprehension of objects is possible.348
According to the author of the Apocalypse of Moses, the serpent is
portrayed as the wisest of creatures. Thus, the Devil makes the
serpent his vessel and speaks through him in order to deceive
Adam.349
Another aspect of the serpent that is important for a perception of
the intended meaning of John 3:14 is that the serpent represents
Wisdom or the source of wisdom. Some ancient Greek myths, such as
the story of Laocoon, suggest that one will understand the language of
animals when the aspirant is touched on the ear by a serpent’s tongue.
By this means, the children of Hecuba, the Queen of Troy, were able to
utter prophecies. In ancient Greece, Athena, the goddess of wisdom,
was depicted as accompanied by serpents (see Fig. 52). In Aztec
religion, the “feathered serpent,” named Quetzalcoatl, was saluted as
the source of wisdom, and the cultic priest was called “Prince of
Serpents.” As should be expected, the most famous connection
between the serpent and wisdom is placed on the lips of Jesus by
Matthew, as he sends out his disciples “among the wolves”: “Be wise
as serpents” (Mt 10:16).

God’s Messenger (Judgment and Revelation)

The serpent represents God’s messenger. Often biblical authors

choose the serpent to symbolize the agent of God’s judgment, usually
punishment. According to Amos 9:3, God states that the end has come
for “my people Israel”: “I shall command the serpent , and he shall
bite them.” Thus, the serpent is God’s messenger and the one who
delivers divine judgment.350
Verses illustrative of the serpent as God’s agent and the one who
will bring justice and peace are found in Isaiah 14:29,

Rejoice not, all you of Philistia,

Because the rod that struck you is broken;
For out of the serpent’s root shall come forth a pit viper,
And his offspring shall be a flying serpent.

Here we confront in one self-contained passage the use of the serpent

and the pit viper to symbolize God’s messenger.
In “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” Le Grande Davies claimed
that the God who sent “ ‘fiery flying serpents’ was the God of Israel
whose symbol of the bronze serpent stood before the people.”351 He
suggested that the serpents were to administer justice. It seems more
likely that “the serpent’s root” of Isaiah 14:29 designates King Ahaz of
Judah who has just died, as stated in Isaiah 15:28. The broader
meaning seems to be that from the root of Judah, “the serpent’s root,
the deliverer shall come to save Israel.” This one is symbolized as “a
flying serpent.” The importance of this point for an exegesis of John
3:14 will seem clear to most readers. God, of course, is identified in
Isaiah and John with the final messenger from God, and both
passages employ serpent imagery.
According to the author of Ecclesiastes, the one who breaks a
hedge shall be bitten by a serpent (10:8; cf. Amos 5:19). Le Grande
Davies claimed that the hedge and serpent are metaphors that denote
the consequences of our actions; the serpent appears “as a symbol of
the just judgments of God: whoever breaks down his law will be
destroyed by the poisonous bite of the serpent.”352 This exegesis
tends to paraphrase poetry—the symbol of the serpent is more
multivalent than Davies realizes. The serpent, inter alia, symbolizes
God’s messenger who brings justice, judgment, and goodness. As L.
H. Silberman pointed out: “The concept of a serpent as dispenser of
divine justice was far more widespread than some commentators
bothered to learn.”353
Cassandra and her brother, Helenus, were left inadvertently in the
temple of Apollo. Cassandra did not become pregnant as did the
mothers of Alexander the Great and Augustus, but something
prophetic happened. Their parents found them with two serpents. The
serpents were licking their ears and eyes. Both Cassandra and
Helenus, consequently, became messengers, or prophets, of the gods.
Other Greek heroes and heroines, like Iamos and Melampus, had their
ears purified by serpents and so obtained unusual, divine gifts.354 As
Chevalier and Gheerbrant state, in The Penguin Dictionary of
Symbols, “the two facets of divination, both Apollonian and Dionysiac,
derived from the serpent.”355 This means that the serpent sometimes
symbolized God’s messenger and brought God’s voice to those who
could hear.
Genesis Rabbah contains a story about a snake seen by Rabbi
Jannai who was sitting and lecturing at the gate of a city. The Rabbi
saw a snake ) skimming along the ground, going from side to side.
The Rabbi exclaimed, “This [snake] is going to carry out his mission
. ”356 The snake had been sent on a mission. It accomplished its
task. Soon the Rabbi heard a report that someone in the city had been
bitten and died (10:7).357 The snake was God’s messenger it
delivered God’s judgment.
In his masterpiece, Dante portrayed the snake as one who
administers God’s judgment. Note how Dante depicts the punishment
of a thief:

At once I liked the snakes; for one came sneaking

About his [the thief’s] throat, and wreathed itself around
As though to say: “I will not have thee speaking;”
Another wrapped his arms, and once more bound
All fast in front, knotting their coils till he
Could give no jog, they were so tightly wound.
[Inferno, Canto 25]358

Dante was inspired by reflections on other myths. Most likely he had

been pondering the legend that snakes wreathed themselves around
Laocoon. Dante “liked the snakes” because they caught, stopped, and
punished thieves.
Beginning with the earliest examples of Christian art, Christ is
shown defeating or trampling on a serpent or asp, and sometimes
both, as we have seen. The depictions of Christ slaying a serpent were
pictorial means of explaining to those who could not read that the Lord
has defeated sin now and he will judge and condemn the serpent at
the end of time.
The snake comes up from the earth (cf. 2.18) and ascends from
the sea (cf. 2.16), thus symbolizing the one who has a message from
the gods of the netherworld. The serpent becomes the consummate
Revealer. In the Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, MacCulloch
opined: “The serpent is a revealer of the arts of civilization, this is
probably because, where it was worshipped, it was often grafted on to
a mythic culture-hero or eponymous founder.”359
Hermes is the messenger of the gods. He reveals their will to
humans. Hermes is usually identified with the caduceus.360 Thus, the
serpent is the symbol of the gods’ messenger and the revealer of their
will (Fig. 5). Infrequently, Hermes appears with a winged staff in his
right hand and one snake curled around it; a rare example of this
iconography is found in the Capitoline Museum (just inside the front
door of the Palazzo Nuovo and to the right).361
The Ophites rejected the “Great Church’s” interpretation of the
importance of the historical Jesus and the perception of the salvific
importance of the Old Testament (see Appendix IV). They rejected the
concept of a historical religion. They saw the serpent as symbolizing
the heavenly realm of meaning, in a revived Platonic sense (with
considerable Docetism).362 The Ophites thus distorted the age-old
symbol of the serpent as the one who revealed God’s will.

Life

Since the snake is forced to swallow its food whole and usually alive
(cf. 2.9), the serpent often symbolizes the embodiment of life. Whereas
the lion kills and then eats sections of the kill periodically, the serpent
often does not kill but swallows its prey alive and all at once. I have
seen a snake with another snake, still alive and alert (with the
mesmerizing unblinking eye), protruding from the victor’s mouth. Thus,
the snake does not always kill its prey; but, expanding its jaws perhaps
five times the width of its neck, it absorbs life, swallowing it whole.
Thus, the serpent becomes the symbol of life.363 In Das
Schlangensymbol, Egli devoted a chapter to the serpent as the symbol
of life.364
In Arabic, hayya means “snake,” hayy denotes “living,” and baydh
indicates “life.”365 In Persian, haydt denotes “life” and haiydt indicates
“serpents (the plural of haiyat).” 366 In Syriac, hewd is the verb “to be,”
but hayye signifies “life,” and hewyd denotes “snake.”367 The sounds
are similar, even if we might become lost searching for etymological
links. Perhaps among some Semites “snake” and “life” were
associated not only symbolically but also linguistically; in many Semitic
languages and dialects, the sound of “snake” echoes the word “life.”368
In Babylonian religion, Marduk struggles against and eventually
slays the serpent-like (or dragon) Tiamat. Likewise in the Hebrew
Scriptures (Old Testament) and the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha,
the Creator is mythologically portrayed in a cosmic struggle with
Leviathan, the sea serpent or dragon (see Appendix I). Also, in ancient
Egyptian religion, Me-hen, the serpent, was the god who protected Re
on his journey through the sky. Likewise, in Indian mythology, the
serpent Sesa is the companion of Vishnu, the god of preservation.369
In ways conceptually odd for post-Enlightenment Western thinkers, the
slaying of the dragon, or serpent, provides life.
Nourishment necessary for life is also often associated with the
serpent. In many cultures, especially in Melanesia and South America,
the serpent is the one who informs humans of the plants that are
edible. In Egypt, the goddess of agriculture was revered as a serpent.
In Southwest Asia, in China, and among the Hopi Indians, the serpent
is the deity who provides rain. The Aztec feathered serpent,
Quetzalcoatl, becomes flesh, sacrifices itself for humans, and—
according to the Dresden Codex—is the god that is “the cloud and his
blood is the rain which will enable the maize to grow and mankind to
live from the maize.”370 The serpent symbolizes life and sustenance.

Figure 73. Ceramic Middle Bronze Pot with Serpents. Hebron, time of Abraham. JHC
Collection

The authors of the biblical and related literatures knew the snake’s
mys-teriousness and chthonic nature. They thus chose it as an ideal
creature for symbolism. The snake’s ability to discard its old skin and
grow more youthful evoked reflections by many humans on the
fundamental relation between life and death.371 According to the
author of Numbers 21, and John 3 (as we shall see), the serpent
represents life.

Water

The snake is amphibious (cf. 2.16); it can move over, through, and
under water. Thus, it can symbolize water (both salt water and fresh
water can be the snake’s habitat). Numerous Greek names for a
“snake” are associated with water (see Appendix II); for example, the
Columber natrix is the “water snake” ( [see Appendix II, no. 36]).
Not only in Greek thought and myth but also in Etruscan, Roman,
Egyptian, and Mesopotamian cultures, the serpent can symbolize
water.372 In discussing the serpent as a symbol of chaos and the
cosmos, we confronted the many connections between this creature
and water. The symbolism is grounded in reality. The snake can live in
salt water and fresh water; it thrives in marshy land and in wetlands. It
is clear why the serpent came to symbolize water, and why the
hieroglyphic symbols for snake and water are so similar.
It is evident that the ancient symbol for water may be a double
entendre: the serpent was included in the water symbol. The complex
wavy line is prehistoric. Indeed, one of the oldest graphemes is a wavy
line or zigzag. It appears in Paleolithic times and is prominent in the
Levant and Asia Minor. In Sumerian cuneiform and Egyptian
hieroglyphics, the ideograph for “water” is a zigzag or wavy line.
Zigzags or waves decorate vessels on Crete, Asia Minor, ancient
Palestine, and elsewhere. As A. Golan shows: “The zigzag as a
graphic symbol had a specific meaning: it designated snake or
water.”373
The snake is often associated, from early times, with springs and
gushing water.374 The snake as a symbol of water is also evident when
one observes that snakes and fish, so dissimilar, are ideologically
associated and appear together iconographically and
mythologically.375 Of course, there is also the water snake that
counters any suggestion that the serpent belongs on land and the fish
in the water.376 In Sumerian, mush-ki signified “snake-fish,” and in
Phoenician nun denoted “fish” as well as “water snake.”377 Apparently,
the fascination with snake gods waned in Mesopotamia, beginning in
the first half of the second millennium BCE. 378
The Native Americans believed in a large serpent. He is often
portrayed as a personification of water. According to the Ojibwa, he is
connected with the primordial flood. According to the Hopi, the dance
of their priests, holding rattlesnakes in their mouths, can produce rain.
Although in China the snake is usually feared, the dragon is
understood as one who can provide rain.379
MacCulloch suggested that the mythic association of the serpent
with water and the waters is “either because some species lived in or
near them or in marshy ground, or because the sinuous course and
appearance of a serpent resembled those of a river.”380 Two Bactrian
seal-stones, one in the Louvre and the other in the Kovacs Collection,
were found in East Iran. The male figure on these seal-stones is
similar to a man with serpents as arms known on other seals.
According to G. Azarpay, this glyptic tradition suggests that the serpent
symbolized longevity, immortality, fertility, and the fruitfulness of plants;
moreover, the serpent also has phallic meaning and serves “as a
reference to hidden sources of water.”381
Adonijah, rivaling Solomon for David’s throne, made sacrifices by a
place called “the Serpent’s Stone” (Heb.: ‘eben hazzohelet [1 Kgs
1:9]).382 This stone is near En Rogel, which is usually identified with
the spring at the southern end of the Kidron Valley where it meets the
Hinnom Valley. Since “En” denotes a spring or well, in this ancient
tradition we find an association of the concept of serpent with water.
Assyrians and Babylonians believed in the serpent god of the
Euphrates or the deep. Leviathan and Rahab are monstrous dragon-
serpents of the deep waters.383 In the Ugaritic literature, for example,
we find the statement that the Tanninim are “in the sea.”384 Psalm 74
contains a parallel thought to Babylonian and Assyrian myths. The
Hebrew poet likewise identifies Leviathan with the flood and the mighty
waters:

You, you broke the heads of Leviathan in pieces,

You gave him as food to the people inhabiting the wilderness.
You, you broke open the fountain and the flood (or river);
You, you dried up mighty rivers. [Ps 74:14]

Another important biblical passage that clarifies the link between water
and serpent symbolism is Isaiah 27:1 (TANAKH):

In that day the Lord will punish,

With His great, cruel, mighty sword
Leviathan, the Elusive Serpent—
Leviathan, the Twisting Serpent;
He will slay the Dragon of the sea.

In this passage it seems evident that the serpent personifies Assyria.

Note the insightful comments by Le Grande Davies: “It is quite evident
that Isa 27:1 used Leviathan-nahash in a general historical context as
the symbol of the once powerful Assyria, about to be destroyed. What
appeared in the texts was a mythological symbolical personification of
opposition and death to ancient Israel” (p. 43). Thus, the serpent as
primordially a symbol of water has been shifted to a historical context.
In Arabia and Palmyra, the flow of wells or springs is imagined in
lore to be controlled by serpents.385 The concept of a serpent as
present in such life-giving locales (genius loci) is well known in Greek
and Roman times.386 Clearly, not only in the Hellenistic and Roman
periods but also in most world cultures, the sea, rivers, and springs
were revered, even considered part of worship; the serpent is almost
always present explicitly or implicitly in such contexts.387
In the previous chapters, we have studied the many pots or vessels
with serpents depicted on them, usually with their heads near or on the
rim.388 The serpents may have been placed there to symbolize water
and not only the protection of it, along with other liquids.

Soul (and Personal Names)

The snake was perceived to be chthonic,389 immortal (or the creature

that did not die),390 and without distorting appendages;391 hence,
Greeks and Romans imagined the serpent as the animal that
represented the soul. This perception derived primarily from its
mysterious chthonic character. It could descend into the earth; it is
there that the souls of the dead resided. Since snakes frequent tombs
and graves,392 the ancient Greeks, and others, associated the serpent
with the soul of the departed.393
Evidence that the serpent was admired in antiquity is found in the
names of different individuals. We find “dove” (Yona), “bee” (Deborah),
“sheep” (Rachel), but also “adder” (Shepiphan) and “serpent”
(Nachash), especially in 1 Samuel 11:1.394

Health and Healing

Since the snake is never perceived to be in pain or sick and

rejuvenates itself through ecdysis or molting (cf. 2.17), it symbolized
health and healing.395 Maringer studied serpent images from the
Paleolithic (at least 30,000 years before the present) to the Iron Ages.
He perceived that, as early as the Iron Age, the serpent symbolized
healing and medical properties. He surmised this meaning of serpent
iconography because of the discovery of serpent images near thermal
healing springs.396
Asclepius appears in dreams as a snake and is usually shown with
a snake as a companion. His statues, with a staff around which a
snake is entwined, permeated the ancient world. Today, Asclepius and
his serpent can be seen as elegant sculptures in almost all the
museums that feature ancient art, notably the British Museum, the
Hermitage, the Greek National Museum in Athens, the museum at
Epidaurus, the many museums in Rome, the archaeological museum
in Naples, and elsewhere. For example, in the Capitoline Museum of
Rome, a fourth-century dark bronze sculpture of Asclepius is on public
display (no. 659). Asclepius is shown with a staff that is a small tree
with broken branches and a serpent depicted realistically, with mouth,
eyes, and scales. R. Jackson concluded that Asclepius’ snake was the
harmless Elaphe longissima. 397 Near the bronze statue of Asclepius is
an image of Hygieia with a serpent in her right hand (no. 647).398
We need to recall that the son of Apollo, Asclepius, was not only
associated with the serpent, but also often became the serpent. One
example must now suffice. In Metamorphoses, Book 15, Ovid reports
that Asclepius said: “Only look upon the serpent which twines about
my staff [hunc modo serpentem, baculum qui nexibus ambit].” Then he
announces his transmogrification: “I shall change myself to this [vertar
in hunc].” 399
By at least the first century CE, Asclepius seems to have reigned
supreme as the god of healing. According to Porphyry’s Of the
Philosophy Derived from Oracles, as quoted by Eusebius in his
Preparation for the Gospel, Asclepius spoke, revealing that he
controlled wisdom and healing, and would answer requests. Note this
excerpt:

From sacred Tricca, lo! I come, the god

Of mortal mother erst to Phoebus born,
Of wisdom and the healing art a king,
Asclepius nam’d. But say, what would’st thou ask?400

Not only Aslcepius but also Eshmun, a Phoenician god often

identified with him, is placarded as the god of healing; and the two
gods share the same symbols and become identified. Each is
portrayed either as a serpent or accompanied by serpents, as we have
seen numerous times in earlier chapters (see Figs. 1 and 53).
Hygieia, the daughter of Asclepius, is the goddess of healing; she
is often depicted holding a bowl and tenderly feeding a large snake
(see Fig. 60). On a bronze coin minted in 100 CE at Tiberias she is
shown holding a ritual bowl (Greek: phiale; Latin: patera) in her right
hand and a large snake in her left.401 The snake is eating out of the
bowl.402 The date, 100 CE, is near to the final edition of the Gospel of
John, about 95 CE. And a similar image appears on a bronze coin of
250 CE that was struck in Aelia Capitolina, the city that replaced
Jerusalem, now utterly destroyed for a second time within one hundred
years. It shows Hygieia holding a bowl in her lap and a large snake
rearing up to eat from it.
In Aelia Capitolina (and perhaps earlier in pre-70 Jerusalem), an
Ascle-peian was erected in Bethzatha (in the northeast part of the
city), as we have already indicated. Archaeologists have found ex-voto
offerings; one depicts an impressive upraised serpent,403 and the
rustic Bethzatha Vase is loaded with serpents. At Roman Caesarea
Maritima, experts have found evidence of an Asclepeian, with marble
votive feet and statues of Asclepius and Hygieia.404 Asclepius was
associated with the hot springs at Hammat Tiberius; a coin struck at
Tiberius in 99 CE shows on the obverse the bust of Trajan and on the
reverse Hygieia holding the sacred snake.405
Before the time of the Fourth Evangelist and the culture in which
his gospel took shape, Livy (died at Padua in 17 CE) explained why
Asclepius was invited to come to Rome from Epidaurus. There had
been a pestilence (pestilentiae) that had ravaged not only the city but
also the countryside. Only Asclepius could heal this sickness. In Book
10.47.6–7, Livy preserved this report: “The Books [libri] were consulted
to discover what end or what remedy the gods proposed for this
misfortune [eius mali]. It was discovered in the Books that Aesculapius
must be summoned to Rome from Epidaurus [Aesculapium ab
Epidauro Romam].” 406 Eventually, a serpent was sent from Epidaurus
to Rome; the Romans imagined the serpent was Asclepius.407 It is
remarkable that Livy recorded the tradition of how Greece and its gods
helped the Romans and their gods, since he stressed in his History of
Rome, which was written in the 20s BCE(when Herod the Great began
the rebuilding of the Jerusalem Temple), that Rome had been blessed
with a religious founding. He also emphasized the “necessity for the
ancient cults to be located in Rome and the significance of Rome’s
sacred boundary, the pomerium (5.52).”408
A relief from circa 370 BCE shows the Greek hero healer named
Amphiaraus. In the stone is carved a scene in which a serpent licks
the wounds on a man’s shoulder. The latter is sleeping in a sanctuary
(incubation).409 As R. Parker states: “There were healing gods and
heroes throughout Greece, their shrines bedecked, like those of
Catholic saints, with the votive offerings of grateful patients (often clay
images of the affected organ).”410 We discussed these ex-voto
offerings to Asclepius and the Asklepieion at Corinth in an earlier
chapter.
The image of the serpent as the symbol of salvation should be
categorized under healing since healing and salvation are cognitively
synonymous. The best example of the serpent as savior appears in a
Jewish writing from the second century BCE. The author of the Wisdom
of Solomon perceived Moses’ raised serpent as a “symbol of salvation”
( [15:6]). The serpent was a sign of salvation; God
was the one who healed the Hebrews: “For he that turned himself
toward it [the serpent] was not saved by the thing that he saw, but by
you who are the Savior of all” (Wis 16:7).
Not only Native Americans, but also Arabs, Greeks, Jews, and
Romans often believed that eating a snake’s flesh, or placing its fat on
one’s skin, especially in the area bitten, would heal the person and
protect him or her from dying.411 In the ancient world, and not only in
modernity, venom was extracted from a snake and used to heal
humans. Thus, the connection with healing and the serpent is not only
ancient but continues today.
Evident in most discussions of Numbers 21, and lacking in most
interpretations of John 3:14–15, is the perception that the serpent is
the symbol for healing in many cultures.412 Those who trusted in God
and looked up to the serpent were healed from the bite of a venomous
snake. Thus, the lore reflected in Numbers 21 is paralleled by
Phoenician culture, since Esh-mun, the Phoenician god of healing, is
symbolized by a serpent. About the same time in Egypt, amulets
shaped like serpents were worn to protect not only the living but also
the dead.413 According to the Babylonian Talmud, portions from the
snake were efficacious for healing skin diseases (Shabbat 133b).414
In Hinduism, Manasa, the snake goddess, is invoked from time
immemorial to heal one who has been bitten by a cobra. The ancient
Assyrians, Babylonians, and Egyptians revered the serpent as the
creature that heals. In ancient Syria and Greece, Shadrapa and
Asclepius, the gods of healing, were symbolically associated with the
serpent. Today, the caduceus is the symbol of physicians and
pharmacists; sometimes the staff of Asclepius with the snake
symbolizes the medical profession. In the Hellenic, Hellenistic, and
Roman worlds the caduceus was the staff of Asclepius with serpents
curled around it.
Figure 74. Remains of Sculptured Boat, Asclepius Temple (above), and close-up of staff with
serpent and bust of Asclepius (left). Tiber River, Rome. JHC

Purifying

The limbless and elongated snake symbolized not only unity and
oneness, but also purity (cf. 2.5). The Hebrew noun , “burning-
serpent,” seems to have a connotation for purifying a human of
sickness. In contrast to most other nouns for serpent or snake in
biblical Hebrew, “burning-serpent” derives from and is etymologically
grounded in the verb “to burn” (see Appendix I). Thus, the many
passages in which appears in the sense of burning to purify as in a
sacrificial offering carry over to the noun, “burning-serpent.”415 It is
possible that the “burning-serpents” sent by God to “punish” Israel
were actually sent to purify it (Num 21). As stoning was a purifying act
—to drive out the demon inside the possessed person416 —so the bite
of the “burning-serpent” may have been perceived as God’s way of
purifying those who had doubted and rejected the only true God.
In “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” Le Grande Davies astutely
suggests that an “examination of the contexts of seraph indicates its
‘burning’ aspects are related to cleansing, purifying or refining of
objects, people, cities, etc.” (p. 83). The clearest example of the
relation between the Seraphim and purification is not grounded in the
verb. Isaiah laments that he is impure: “A man of unclean lips I am;
and in the midst of a people of unclean lips I dwell” (Isa 6:5). How is
this great prophet cleansed? One of the Seraphim—winged serpents
(see Appendix I)—takes a hot coal from the altar and touches his
mouth. The divine burning-serpent declares:

Behold, this has touched your lips;

Your iniquity is taken away,
And your sin purified. [Isa 6:7]

In Greek and Roman myth and folklore, the lick of the serpent is
purifying and imparts unusual abilities. For example, snakes purified
the ears of Melampus. On awakening, he could understand bird
language and became a prophet.417 Likewise, serpents licked the ears
of Cassandra and Helenus, in the sanctuary of Apollo. So purified,
they also were able to understand the language of birds.418
In our attempt to organize and categorize the symbolic meanings of
the serpent, some reflections by Ambrose might be placed here. In his
Of the Christian Faith, Ambrose urges his fellow Christians to be like
serpents. Note his exhortation:

For those are serpents, such as the Gospel intends, who put off old habits, in order to put on
new manners: “Putting off the old man, together with his acts, and putting on the new man,
made in the image of Him Who created him.” Let us learn then, the ways of those whom the
Gospel calls the serpents, throwing off the slough of the old man, that so, like serpents, we
may know how to preserve our life and beware of fraud.419

Transcendence

The snake does not show emotion, fear, or pain (cf. 2.3, 2.15, 2.21), is
fiercely independent (cf. 2.11), and can transcend the limitations of
other creatures (cf. 2.17). These physiological and habitual
characteristics of snakes helped stimulate the perception that the
serpent symbolized transcendence.
In Man and His Symbols, C. G. Jung stressed the ability of the
serpent to symbolize transcendence. Jung published the following
conclusion: “Perhaps the commonest dream symbol of transcendence
is the snake, as represented by the therapeutic symbol of the Roman
god of medicine Aesculapius, which has survived to modern times as a
sign of the medical profession.”420
J. L. Henderson and M. Oakes point to the serpent as the symbol
of transcendence. Especially noteworthy are the ways Hermes
acquired wings and symbolized spiritual transcendence. The authors
focused on the entwined serpents, the caduceus and the Indian Naga
serpents; they explained this serpent iconography as an “important
and widespread symbol of chthonic transcendence.”421
It does seem clear that when Hermes becomes Mercury, he
obtains wings. He became “the flying man” and possessed the winged
hat, sandals, and even a dog as companion. Henderson and Oakes
appear to be right in interpreting the iconography of Hermes: “Here we
see his full power of transcendence, whereby the lower transcendence
from underworld snake-consciousness, passing through the medium of
earthly reality, finally attains transcendence to superhuman or
transpersonal reality in its winged flight.”422

Rejuvenation

Because the snake sheds its skin (ecdysis) and regains a youthful
appearance (cf. 2.17), it came to symbolize rejuvenation. Without
wrinkles and with no signs of old age, the serpent, through ecdysis,
was imagined to symbolize youthfulness and rejuvenation. In the
Asclepian cult, the serpent symbolized new life and health. Nicander
preserves an old myth in which humans did receive the gift of
youthfulness, but, being lazy, they let an ass carry the gift. The ass
bucked and eventually sought a snake to quench his thirst. The
serpent was pleased to bear the burden on the back of the ass
because he then obtained eternal youthfulness or rejuvena-tion.423
Once again, as in the Gilgamesh epic, the serpent wins the prize
sought by humans. Of all creatures, the serpent symbolized the one
who had the secret of rejuvenation.

Immortality, Reincarnation, and Resurrection

The Greeks and Romans knew that immortality without youthfulness

would be a curse.424 The lover of the goddess Dawn—who appears
fresh and resplendent each morning—obtained immortality. There is
an ironic twist; he continued living but he simply grew older each day
(Homeric Hymn 5.218–38). Endymion receives eternal youth from
Zeus, but he cannot sleep (Apollodorus 1.7.5). Juturna receives
immortality from Zeus, but must witness the death of loved ones
(Aeneid 12.869–86).
Because the snake sheds its skin and apparently obtains new life
(cf. 2.17), it became the quintessential symbol of immortality and
reincarnation. Among the Jews and Christians who held a belief in
resurrection, sometimes the serpent represented that belief.
This point, at least for Sumerian culture, was clarified and
emphasized by V. Lloyd-Russell in his 1938 PhD dissertation at the
University of Southern California. It is entitled “The Serpent as the
Prime Symbol of Immortality Has Its Origin in the Semitic-Sumerian
Culture.” His dissertation, while interesting and informative, is
undermined by the claim that the cradle of serpent symbolism must be
in or near Sumer or Akkad and from “this homeland, the symbol
followed the great migrations of people from the Old World to the New”
(p. iii). While Küster sought to subsume all serpent symbology under
the concept of the chthonic, Lloyd-Russell sought to prove that the
primary and dynamic meaning of serpent symbolism is always
immortality.425 The result is the degeneration of an interrogative thesis
into an attempted demonstration of an idea. We have seen that
serpent symbolism does not suggest one originative locale; it is an
aspect of the commonality of the human who lives in and near snakes
and perceives something important for meaningful life. Without doubt,
the human aspires to escape death and has often employed serpent
symbolism to articulate this common, but elusive, dream.
The snake (like some other animals, especially the lizard) sheds its
skin. When one walks in the wilderness or any place where snakes
dwell, one often sees the sign of death: discarded snakeskin. But the
reflective person readily knows that there is a live snake not far away.
This rather “unique” habit of the snake influenced religious symbolism.
In the world’s religions, the serpent symbolized rebirth, reincarnation,
and even (later) resurrection, because the snake leaves its old skin (it
only apparently dies) and moves into what looks like a new body. The
Phoenicians celebrated the rebirth, perhaps resurrection, of Adonis
and chanted something analogous to resurrexit dominus: “The lord is
resurrected.”426 Since the snake appears to die and live again, the
waxing and waning moon is often depicted symbolically as a
serpent.427 This concept may help explain why in the Congo the
Nagala believe that the moon was formerly a python on earth.
 When the snake is depicted coiled, it may symbolize immortality.428
The “Coiled One” (mhn) game, with the serpent in a coil, in the
Pyramid and Coffin texts was a means of transformation to rebirth and
even ascension into heaven.429 The serpent represented eternal life.
As V. Lloyd-Russell stated: “It is not paradox that the reptile, whose
venom caused the annihilation of the life of man, should be chosen to
articulate eternal life. He might destroy but he contained life. If he were
propitiated, if one could ingratiate oneself before him, the eternal Sa
might even be communicated in the bite.”430
In antiquity, the Gilgamesh epic, “the most famous literary relic of
ancient Mesopotamia,”431 which influenced some traditions in the Old
Testament, solidified in writing the legend that the serpent alone
possessed the plant of immortal life. W. F. Albright called the
Gilgamesh epic “that remarkable work of early Babylonian genius …
which attains its culmination in the hero’s vain quest of eternal life.”432

Figure 75. Bronze Stirrers. From Jerusalem (left) and Jericho (right); both are early Roman,
probably Herodian Period. Note each serpent head. JHC Collection

In Egypt, the serpent is connected with some form of immortality or

“resurrection.” In the Pyramid Texts, the dead king is awakened and
his odor is like that of a special serpent; he does not rot (Utterance
576). Utterance 683 has the following: “It is Horus, who comes forth
from the Nile … it is the d.t-serpent which comes from Rëc; it is the5
icr-t-serpent which comes from Set.”433
In numerous Greek legends, especially concerning Glaucus and
Tylon, serpents are depicted as those that can bring back the dead to
life. Hercules leaves the snake in the tree in the Garden of the
Hesperides and makes off with the golden apples of immortality (see
Fig. 56). S. Reinach pointed out that at the heart of Orphism is the
birth, death, and resurrection of Za-greus, who appears
iconographically as a serpent with a small crown.434
The serpent can symbolize many ideas and concepts; some are
negative and others positive. Among the latter are images of the
serpent that reveal its symbolic power to represent rejuvenation,
immortality, reincarnation, and resurrection.

Purely Decorative

On those occasions when human beings view the snake as attractive

(cf. 2.19), they choose serpent images to exemplify that beauty. In this
study, our focus has been on serpent symbolism. Hence, sometimes a
drawing of a serpent or a golden serpent bracelet may merely be
intended either for decoration or to enhance someone’s attractiveness.
Symbolism thus ceases and the symbol no longer has meaning; when
the symbol is seen only as embellishment, symbolism ceases.
Images that had been richly symbolical can become merely
decorative or aesthetic. In the Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et
de liturgie H. Leclercq rightly stated that sometimes “the serpent
appears simply to fulfill a decorative role.”435 While I disagree with him
that a serpent on a sarcophagus is mere decoration (it probably
signals a belief and hope in some new and better life after death),
some lintels and jewelry may have been designed or intended only to
appear attractive and decorative.
While I am persuaded that originally, at least, most of the serpent
imagery had deep and complex symbolic meanings, many
intellectuals, especially in the middle and later Roman periods, would
have thought an anguine object was merely ornamental. The Roman
bronze ladle for dipping wine mixed with water may have connoted for
some guests many positive feelings, but other guests probably took
them only as attractive decoration (see Fig. 63). Serpents on vases
(Fig. 61), and the numerous bronze, silver, and gold serpent bracelets,
rings, and earrings certainly connoted positive symbolic meanings, but
for many they were mere jewelry (see Figs. 34, 35, 38, 39, 40, 41, 62).
Elegantly made glass objects with serpent appliqué denote many
symbols, but they were also ornamental (Fig. 71).436
The silver Viking serpent ring probably had mythological meanings,
but it was also attractive, and the bearer may have worn it only for
decoration (Fig. 9). The Minoan serpent goddesses or priestess (Fig.
28) and the Carmel Aphrodite with a serpent on her thigh (Fig. 23)
symbolized many attributes, but some who viewed them may have had
no symbolic imagination and took them as only artworks of magnetic
attraction. The tattoos of snakes in ancient and modern Egypt, and
elsewhere, may be merely for decorating the body, or they may have
special meanings perhaps known only to those who wear them.437
No serpents appear on Jewish ossuaries (stone containers for the
bones of the deceased); images on these ossuaries eventually lost the
symbolic meaning given to them by Greeks and Romans.438 The
Medea sarcophagi—the depictions of Medea in a chariot pulled by
winged snakes—originally symbolized that the serpents pulling her
chariot knew the way to the abode of the deceased.439 As stated many
times before, we living today have lost the naïveté of the ancients and
their feeling for symbolic language. How many of us still think about
the symbolic meaning of the caduceus on our medical prescriptions?
Long ago, A. D. Nock made a comment about serpents, symbols,
and decoration that deserves highlighting:

A serpent can evoke a variety of associations—death, the renewal of life (as suggested by its
sloughing its skin), the protective Hausschlange, the healing power of Asclepius, fecundity, a
hostile power to be crushed etc. When however a Greek gem of the late sixth century B.C.
shows a snake rising behind Nike, need it carry any meaning? Is it not a fallacy to suppose
that what an artist produces must involve or repeat something which could be put into words?
The world of forms has a certain autonomy, smaller if you will than of the world of music, but
undeniable.440

Riches and Wealth

The natural beauty of the snake (cf. 2.9) and its grandeur (cf. 2.28)
helped stimulate thoughts about the serpent as a symbol of riches and
wealth. The rich decorations in the tomb of Tutankhamen, for example,
used the serpent to symbolize many things, including riches and
wealth. The image of the serpent was used for games in ancient
Egypt, and it sometimes lost its complex symbolism, degenerating into
denoting the playful search for wealth.441
In West Africa, a heavenly serpent is worshipped. This rainbow
serpent offers riches and wealth to its devotees. Sometimes it is
perceived to be a python that promises the best weather, fertile crops,
and abundant cattle. On the Bass River, a python is revered as the
great warrior who promises, among other gifts, riches. Something
similar is found in the Voodoo serpent cult in Haiti.442
These reflections clarify why ophiophilism, the love of snakes, has
continued among humans for millennia. We humans once needed
snakes for protection, even companionship. Those who fear them are
usually those who are far removed from nature. I still marvel at the
professor’s wife in South Africa who told me, without emotion, how she
had been forced to kill a mother cobra and her hatch when she
cleaned up her backyard. I know Americans and Europeans who have
not shared her experience feel that her actions are exceedingly
foreign.
The snake has been erased from our perception. This costly
reduction occurred by the fourth century CE. Prior to the first century
CE, the snake was one of the animals most represented in mosaics,443
but the relegation and pejorative treatment of the snake are reflected
in later mosaics. The pagan mosaics of Orpheus include the snake,
but the Christian mosaics of Orpheus delete it.444 For example, in the
extraordinarily decorated late third-or early fourth-century mosaic floor
at Lod, Israel, the artist depicts numerous animals, notably a lion,
rabbit, giraffe, elephant, and dolphins, bulls, birds, deer, and fish, but
he does not celebrate the snake. If anguine symbolism is clear in the
Lod mosaic, it is a snake biting a stag or a mythological dragon
between two lions.445 The appreciation of the serpent, as in the
Asclepian cult, has not influenced the artist or the owner of the villa.

Figure 76. Bronze Serpent Bracelet, Lead Inkwell. Herodian Period. Jerusalem. JHC
Collection

Summary

Why have snakes provided such various and diverse symbolic

meanings? Clearly, the multivalence of serpent symbolism results from
the fact that humans have experienced and expressed the most varied
emotional reactions to this animal. From sometime about 40,000 BCE
to the present we have amassed evidence that humans consistently
fear and revere snakes. Why?
We fear snakes primarily because they can inflict death, spewing or
injecting venom that attacks the blood and heart or the nervous
system. The venom is lethal and has killed humans. We also fear
these animals because it is impossible to control or communicate with
them, let alone tame them. We abhor snakes because they can
appear without warning in our homes. Finally, reflecting on past
encounters with snakes and imagining future confrontations with them
provide us no paradigm for avoiding being inadvertently controlled by
them.
Having articulated what seems so obvious, even to those who have
not and will not encounter snakes, can anything be said on why Homo
sapiens have for forty-three millennia admired, even worshipped,
snakes? Without striving to order the reasons why humans have found
snakes symbolical of positive concepts (any such ordering would
misrepresent the varieties of cultures and times to be covered), I can
list no fewer than fifteen reasons why the snake was chosen as a
positive symbol:

1. Snakes can rejuvenate themselves, appearing with new skin at

least once a year, seemingly to live for ever.446
2. They never appear tired, sick, or old.
3. They are astonishingly beautiful.
4. Their bodies are smooth and glisten.
5. They never give off a smell.
6. They do not need washing or cleansing.
7. They (in contrast to humans) seldom defecate, never urinate, and
relatively do not pollute the air (like dogs).447
8. They may have a rare tick or other parasite, but they are not
bearers of pestilence or vermin (like mice).
9. They protect us from rats and other pests.
10. They can go deep into the earth or the sea but we cannot follow.
11. They aerate and enrich our gardens.
12. They provide venom for healings.
13. They are admirably independent of us.
14. They taste good.
15. They provide attractive skins for accessories and shoes.
 At this point, some attentive readers might object, claiming that
more should be added to the list of negative characteristics of snakes.
They might contend that snakes are slimy and clammy and awful to
touch. They would perhaps argue that snakes are aggressive, seeking
by their nature to attack and kill humans. They probably would claim
that snakes are filthy since they spend their lives in the filth of the
earth.
What can we reply to these claims? Are they not patently accurate?
These claims do accurately reflect the fears of many, but they
derive from mythology and not fact. Children who have not been
taught to fear snakes find that when they hold a garden snake or a
black indigo, they admit that the feeling is attractive and comfortable.
Ophiologists have proved, from years of study and experimentation,
that snakes are not aggressive; by nature they are defensive. Snakes
do not seek to kill humans; in fact, when threatened they often release
only a minor amount of venom (snakes can control the amount of
venom excreted). If snakes come into the home from the sewer, they
are filthy and dangerous as we would be if we had been in a sewer.
The Ophites would never have imagined a serpent could consecrate
the bread for the Eucharist if it were in any way perceived to be a
bearer of pollution or filth.
Gifted symbologists and phenomenologists will now feel that the
main issue has become distorted. They will point out that even though
it has been proved that ophidian iconography and symbology derive
from the physiological characteristics of snakes, a major point has
been lost. They will stress—and rightly so—that it is not the physical
characteristics of snakes that undergird ophidian symbolism, it is the
human perception of these characteristics.
No one should deny that perception helps create symbols. Yet
perception precedes symbolism. Our perception of snakes defines and
allows for ophidian symbolism. We never see snakes sick or old; we
see them rejuvenated periodically. That stimulates reflections on
immortality (which eludes us as well as snakes). We sometimes
cannot discern which end of a snake is a tail or a head, which is
especially unclear in some earthworms or small snakes. Our
perceptions of beginning and end—the continuum of philosophical
reflections—are deepened when we see a snake’s head protruding
from another snake’s mouth or a snake’s tail close to or in its own
mouth (Ouroboros). How did time begin and what is time and eternity?
Ophidian iconography helps us broach and represent such perennial
questions.
Around humans the heads of snakes are almost always raised and
alert. The upraised snake is a fact of nature (Figs. 13 and 15) and of
serpent iconography (e.g., Figs. 42 and 49). The upraised serpent
provides the symbol-ogy we see in the uraeus, as well as in Numbers
21 and John 3. Thus, as we proceed, we should keep in mind the
recognition that behind ophidian symbology lies the fascination of
humans with snakes, the physiology of snakes, and most notably the
perception of the phenomenology of snakes.
Now we may return, with deeper insight, to the fifteen reasons why
humans have found snakes to be attractive and desirable. These
reflections help us imagine the millennia when our ancestors lived in
caves, with snakes, and the millennia others worked in the fields or sat
in huts or houses in which a snake was welcome. The almost global
penchant of frantically killing snakes, especially in Ireland and the
United States, has changed the world that had been created. We also
have become divorced from the earth and from nature. The words
“Mother Earth” have disappeared from our lexicons. They no longer
bring comfort to our lips.

CONCLUSION

Paul Tillich argued that a symbol obtains some of the meaning of what
it points to, but a sign only points to something else. He influenced
such luminaries as Reinhold Niebuhr, Paul Ricoeur, Langdon Gilkey,
and David Tracy. We have seen that serpent images were not only
signs; they were symbols that made present the ideas and concepts
imagined. We have seen reasons to agree with C. G. Jung that
serpent symbols appear in all human cultures, suggesting a shared
archetypal collective unconscious in humans. I would agree with Ernst
Cassirer that humans are distinct from other animals by their ability to
create symbols.
Serpents symbolize neither something bad nor something good.
They even provide more than just symbolically portraying both these
opposites together (double entendre). Biblical scholars and experts in
other fields of antiquity should grasp more fully a fact seldom
perceived today but articulated in 1850 by F. G. Welcker: of all
animals, the serpent has provided the richest and most complex
meanings to the human.448 Because of the extraordinary physiological
and habitual characteristics of these creatures, and their complex,
contradictory relations with us humans over time and at the same time,
they have become a symbol that reveals the vague, often
contradictory, boundaries of the language of symbolism.449

Figure 77. A Scarab Found in or Near Jerusalem. A man with a flute and an upraised cobra
behind him. Circa eighth century BCE. J HC Collection

We must be careful not to overinterpret symbols. As music cannot

be said and poetry only misrepresented by prose, so symbols must not
be equated with what are articulated concerning them. They have a
language of their own. Their abilities to evoke thoughts and emotions
cannot be reduced to words. Symbols do not display, not even when
they are voluptuous serpent goddesses; they point to that which the
human yearns for and needs for sustenance, survival, and—most of all
—meaning in a phenomenologically chaotic world. It would not be in
our own best interest to reduce the ophidian object in Fig. 77 to a
limited number of meanings. The importance of this illustration may be
in its power to evoke and instill wonder. Why is a man playing a flute
with an upraised cobra behind him?
We humans named animals. We also gave animated
onomatopoeic names to snakes—like nachash, seraph, eph’ee,
shephiphon, and ophis (to bring out the hissing sound of these nouns;
see Appendix I). Reading Numbers 21 aloud in Hebrew, as it was
intended, brings to the attentive ear the sounds we have heard from
snakes. With imaginative reflections on Genesis 3, we may hear from
the animal world the remains of the serpents’ speech in the hissing
vibrations that accompany their names as we mention them in Hebrew
and Greek (the languages of the texts we are about to explore). With
their ability to spirantize, the ancient Hebrews read the Torah,
customarily aloud, with a better intuitive feeling of the language that
originates in another world.
The research discussed here is a summary of what I have learned
over the past six years of focused explorations into serpent
iconography and symbology. I began with the fear that images have no
set denotation because the viewer supplies any meaning. Erwin
Panofsky offered this warning: “There is admittedly some danger that
iconology will behave, not like ethnology as opposed to ethnography,
but like astrology as opposed to astrography.”450 We have seen that
serpent symbology has a discernible denotation, even if it is
multivalent. How, for example, can a uraeus be meaningful if it is a
symbol of both evil and goodness?
We exegetes now have a guide to serpent iconology and
symbology. Humans, virtually everywhere and from earliest times,
have chosen a similar mass of limited images. It is now possible to
reexamine the biblical texts in which serpent symbolism is prominent.
 Serpent Symbolism in the Hebrew Bible
6
(Old Testament)

Why was it necessary to emphasize the polyvalent symbolic meanings

of the serpent in antiquity? It was necessary in order to stress the rich
varieties of meanings in ancient serpent iconography and symbolism
and to repeat them from different vantage points because biblical
scholars are systematically trained in the biblical languages, but not
sufficiently introduced to the worlds of iconography and symbology.
Moreover, it is clear from my conversations with colleagues that they
almost always are eager to confess an abhorrence of snakes. These
colleagues do not seem to comprehend that they also, as did the
ancients, almost always possess in tension a fear of and a fascination
with enchanting snakes. In fact, my associates are sometimes misled
by fallacious reports that are taken as factual. Such antipathy to
serpents prohibits a sensitive exploration of the symbolic meaning of
the serpent in ancient literature, especially the Hebrew Bible and the
Gospel of John. The authors and editors of the Bible were surrounded
by serpent cults and images that appeared at the beginnings of human
drawing and art.1
One example only must now suffice. It is taken from the prestigious
and influential Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Three
entries in TDNT are devoted to the serpent. These three are SpaKtov,
which appears only in Revelation (12:3, 4, 7, 9, 13, 16, 17; 13:2, 4, 11;
16:13; 20:2),2 e/iSva, which is found only in Acts 28:3,3 and , which
appears fourteen times in the New Testament.4 W. Foerster
contributed each of these three entries, and each is marred by his
penchant to portray the serpent as a diabolical symbol. Note this
excerpt:
Of all beasts, the serpent was regarded as demonic in antiquity, thereby revealing the duality
of the ancient conception of demons. It plays a great part in Persian, Babylonian and Assyrian,
Egyptian and Greek mythology and in essence this role is always the same; it is a power of
chaos which opposed God either in the beginning or at the end of things, or both. [TDNT 3
(1964) 281]

The quotation represents Foerster’s perspective. It does not accurately

summarize the meaning of the serpent and serpent symbolism in
biblical and parabiblical documents.
We have demonstrated that while the serpent can denote chaos
(Neg. 3), the serpent does not “always” bear the same symbolic
meaning. Foerster’s report is not only one-sided; it is simply
inaccurate. His work is typical of the lack of careful, disinterested
research that grounds biblical exegesis in archaeology, iconography,
and symbology. It seems evident why generations of biblical exegetes
have been misled regarding symbology, especially serpent symbolism.
The whole enterprise of exegesis and theology is undermined if biblical
symbology is misperceived, since all Scripture is symbolical. And,
moreover, symbols are often presented in dynamic, even contradictory,
ways, since it is in the tension they arouse cognitively that reality is
pointed at, not displayed.5
We must ever keep in mind what H. and H. A. Frankfort, and their
colleagues, stressed long ago. Early humans did not distinguish
between either the so-called objective and subjective or between the
“real” and “appearance.” For the early humans who created the world
of symbology, “thoughts are not autonomous.” We should try, as we
proceed further, to comprehend “that our categories of intellectual
judgment often do not apply to the complexes of cerebration and
volition which constitute mytho-poeic thought.”6
Foerster, in discussing ophis (Greek for “serpent”) claims: “[T]he
snake is the sinister and peculiar animal kat’ exochen.” 7 This
judgment is not presented within a context, and it is not balanced by
an equal stress on the positive symbolism of the serpent, even though
Asclepius is mentioned (somewhat in passing and without perception).

BEING HONEST ABOUT HOW THE HEBREW BIBLE (OR

“OLD TESTAMENT”) WAS “WRITTEN”

We now turn to the question, “How has ophidian iconography helped

shape the formation of the Hebrew Bible?” That is, how has the image
and symbol of the serpent affected narratives and stories, or been
reflected (or refracted) in them?
When we pick up a bound book called the Hebrew Bible, we do not
pick up one book.8 We hold a library, as it were. The library is a
collection of writings that were composed from about 950 BCE to
approximately 164 BCE. On the one hand, these writings absorb and
inherit many ancient stories that have a history of developing in oral
traditions long before they were written down by the Israelites. On the
other hand, these books were often edited by later authors. In
antiquity, learned persons did not imagine they were independent
authors; they (like Plato) stood within a cherished tradition and
sometimes school.
The twenty-four books in the Hebrew Bible9 originally circulated in
separate scrolls. The earliest known copies are those found among the
Dead Sea Scrolls. Thus, when we read the “Bible,” we read a library of
books that represent different centuries, contexts, and peoples
(Hebrews, Israelites, and finally Judahites). The process of collecting
these different works into one book, and arranging them into a canon,
was preceded by oral traditions, writing, and expanding and editing the
documents that were almost always separated into individual scrolls of
varying lengths. Despite what is assumed far too often, no official body
in Early Judaism (or Second Temple Judaism) ever promulgated what
was to be in or out of a biblical canon. The myth of Jabneh (Jamnia)
derives ultimately from Spinoza, was intimated by H. Graetz, and
developed by H. E. Ryle and F. Buhl. No canon was defined by the
Rabbis who met at Jabneh; this well-entrenched myth was exploded
by D. E. Aune, and the latter’s contention was supported and
confirmed by S. Talmon, and many others, especially L. M.
McDonald.10
In search of the influence of serpent iconography in the Hebrew
Bible we need to remember how the writings took shape. Texts were
shaped by “con-text”—the social and intellectual world of the writer. In
that world, the serpent was a pervasive, and indeed a multivalent,
symbol. Hebrews, Israelites, and Jews stand behind and within the
books collected into the Hebrew Bible. They caused it to be written, to
be expanded, and later to be edited and copied. Generations of Jews,
long before the burning of Jerusalem and the Temple in 70 CE, also
showed us how to read some of the sections, as the scribal notations
in the Dead Sea Scrolls, especially the Isaiah Scroll, help us
comprehend.
In studying biblical serpent symbolisms, we appreciate more
fundamentally that the Bible is not only from a culture of “the People of
the Book.” It is also “the Book of the People.”11 That is, the book—the
Bible—reflects a long and intricate process by which the words of
humans to God became the Word of God to humans. The books in the
Bible were written by people like you and me, but they sometimes
claimed to be inspired; that is, as Mozart contended he was not
composing music but recording what he heard, so Isaiah, Jeremiah,
Ezekiel, and many others professed they were saying to Israelites
what they heard God say to them. For many Jews and Christians
today, the Bible is thus an intricate mixture of divine timeless
revelations and human timely conceptions.
Symbolism belongs to both worlds: the eternal Word and human
time-bound expressions. Serpent symbolism deeply colored the
garments of ancient biblical societies. While “the serpent” appears in
numerous passages in the Hebrew Bible,12 three are outstanding.
First, Genesis 3 is important because of the prominence attributed by
the author (the Yahwist)13 to the serpent in the so-called “Fall”
(Sundenfall)14 of the human from grace and a blessed life in Paradise
and the beginnings of sin, pain, suffering, and death. Second,
Numbers 21 is also exceptional because of the narrative according to
which Moses made a copper (or bronze) serpent and placed it on a
pole so that the Hebrews, who looked up to it as God’s sign, would not
die. Third, 2 Kings 18 is chosen because its author reports that
Israelites were worshipping a serpent (or through it),15 Nechushtan,16
in the Temple. All three texts are not only shaped by serpent
symbology but are so singularly important that they have developed
the understanding and explication of biblical theology or “Old
Testament Theology” (i.e., the theologies preserved in the Hebrew
Bible). Unfortunately, none of the three texts central for the present
research has been found among the scrolls once preserved in the
eleven Qumran caves.
After working through the commentaries on Genesis, Numbers,
and 2 Kings, I was surprised by the lack of interest in the symbol of the
serpent. Numerous scholars translated Genesis 3 so as to stress a
negative image of the serpent; hence, the image of the serpent is
presented from preconceived, and misleading, notions and not from
interrogative investigations and research. This discovery was
surprising to me because biblical scholars seek to be grounded in the
world in which the scrolls and stories took shape. In that world, as is
now clear to the reader, no symbol was so pervasive, so dynamic, and
primarily so positive as the serpent.
As is well known to virtually all biblical exegetes, the serpent
appears on the heads of the pharaohs, with Hermes (Mercury), on
Asclepius’ staff, on the walls of the Assyrian and Babylonian kings, and
on gems, jewelry, seals, and scarabs. Moreover, when coins were
invented for commerce, one of the prevalent symbols was the serpent.
As the caduceus, the serpent was found on the coins of the early
Herodian dynasty, as discussed earlier. We have reviewed the
evidence of the symbol of the serpent in the previous chapters. Now,
we can ask, “How have the various symbolic meanings of the serpent
helped shape the words and worlds of the biblical authors?” By
entering the world of the biblical authors, we obtain controls and
insight for exegesis. We thus will be guided away from uninformed,
indeed foolish, pronouncements, and avoid such claims as René
Guénon’s speculation that the tree of life17 symbolized and in a way
described the celestial Jerusalem.18

Figure 78. Babylonian Clay Table with a Serpent in the Center. Circa 2000 BCE. JHC
Collection

Before proceeding further, I may now introduce an example of

ancient iconography that is challenging and enlightening. An artifact
was found recently in the area of Hebron. It was made about 2000 BCE.
It is a Babylonian clay tablet (9.2 centimers x 10.1 centimeters) with
two male figures; the one on the left is fully garbed (8.6 centimeters
high), and the one on the right is nude (8 centimeters high). The figure
on the left seems to be a priest, which makes sense since he is taller
and clothed in a long garment. His eyes, ear, and headdress (or
braided hair) received the artist’s attention. He holds an object in his
right hand, and his left is lifted up toward something in the center. The
man on the right has an object below his mouth and holds something
upright before him with his left hand. His ear, eye, widely open mouth,
and phallus are detailed.
What is in that something in the center? The central figure is either
a tree or a serpent. The latter becomes more obvious after close
examination. The upward curved circles on its body simulate the ribs
of a reptile. The serpent’s mouth is open, and a tongue protrudes. An
eye is visible. The bottom of the serpent is turned upward and to the
right. Most likely “a foot” is intended. The serpent is able to stand
upright because of this foot and the help of the nude man.
What are the objects in the priest’s right hand and below the nude
man’s mouth? The priest seems to be holding a harp under his right
elbow, strumming it with a curved object in his right hand. The harp
seems to have fourteen horizontal strings. His left hand rises upward
and holds a rattle or a scepter. The nude man seems to be blowing
into some object that hangs from his mouth, and a similar object,
perhaps a rattle, is held in his right hand. His left hand holds the
serpent. The viewer perhaps is to imagine a liturgical dance with
music. The object of veneration by the priest and nude man is clearly
the serpent, who is strong, mighty, and full of life. He is not only in the
center but also clearly longer than either male (from tongue to tail is
10.1 centimeters). The scene is not erotic; it is cultic. We have been
given a glimpse into the worship of and through the serpent at the
beginning of the second millennium BCE.

DEVELOPMENT OF RESEARCH

From about the tenth century BCE until less than two hundred years
ago, the Genesis account of creation was assumed to be factual and
reliable by most in the West, but critics of the biblical story of creation
began to appear with regularity in the seventeenth century. Many
around the world today also assume it is a definitive account of
creation. Most learned individuals know that the account is not about
how the world began, but about who is behind the processes that
continue until today. Two major events in the nineteenth century
changed the presuppositions by which we now read Genesis. In 1853,
the library of Ashurbanipal was unearthed, and it revealed a creation
story prior to and strikingly similar to the famous stories in Genesis.
The second event was even more mind-altering. In 1859, Charles
Darwin published On the Origin of Species, which eventually made
“evolution” a household word.19
The biblical text is not an “inanimate thing.” It is alive. The ancient
authors filled it with passion and dynamic meaning that is available to
even those not professionally trained in biblical research.
Once Jerome was asked by a hunter what he did. Jerome replied
that he studied a text until something moved, then he went after it. A
similar thought was shared by Matthias Flaccius Illyricus. Illyricus, the
father of biblical hermeneutics, was a Lutheran whom Melanchthon
called “the Croatian snake.” He wrote and published 263 publications
in this field. Along with Luther, Melanchthon, and Calvin, Illyricus is one
of the four geniuses of the Reformation. In 1555, he stressed that the
Bible is alive like a living body, and that the three dimensions of
hermeneutics are analytic, heuristic, and synthetic.
Biblical scholars today know the dangers of theological exegesis
that is shaped by dogmatics. They do not make the mistake of
assuming, as had M. J. Gruenthaner, that the “Serpent who plays such
a sinister part in the fall of our first parents is the first principle of evil
which we encounter in the Bible.” Contextualizing the text, we know
that the Yahwist is not one who was convinced that the “response of
the Serpent” attempts “to dethrone God in the heart of His creatures,
by inciting them to rebellion; at the same time it is an effort to destroy
these creatures, body and soul.”20 Such interpretations arise out of
Christian dogmatics; sound scholarship derives from a study of the
historical context of the text, and—for us—the presence of serpent
symbology in a text that the biblical author composed.
Two fundamental presuppositions shape the following search for a
refined exegesis of the biblical passages in which serpent symbolism
dominates. First, texts obtain meaning from contexts; these contexts
are not only textual and narrative but also historical and sociological.
Second, the biblical authors, editors, and compilers—and especially
those who read and memorized the Scriptures—lived in cultures
virtually teeming with serpent iconography and symbology.
The following work will proceed by focusing on the four main
biblical passages in which serpent symbolism is focused: Genesis 3,
Numbers 21, 2 Kings 18, and subsequently John 3. Each text will be
studied according to the following paradigm:

1. Initial Observations
2. Text and Translation
3. Questions
4. Scholars’ Reflections (which are not always scholarly)
5. Serpent Symbology and Exegesis
6. Summary

GENESIS 3
Initial Observations

Clearly, more than one reading of a story is permissible, indeed

required. I shall offer an interpretation of Genesis 3, with a focus on
the serpent, that significantly differs from the traditional one in which
the serpent is simply the origin of evil. A penetrating study of serpent
symbolism, evident in the preceding chapter, precludes assuming that
the serpent of the Eden Story is a kakodaimon, an evil demon or
snake, whose bite brought death to humans. This interpretation, found
in M. Giebel’s Tiere in der Antike, shows no exegetical examination of
Genesis 3 and fails to observe that the Nachash has no venom and
does not bite Adam and the woman.21 Furthermore, I doubt that the
Yahwist would agree that the serpent functions only to clarify the origin
of evil.
I agree with D. Patte that it is illusory to imagine that a story or
narrative presents us with only a monolithic meaning. Patte rightly
points out that the search for the transparent literal meaning of a text
leaves aside its traditional mysterious power, and that “the meaning of
a story cannot be posited anymore than can the glitter of a jewel.”22
In light of the previous excursions into serpent symbolism, I am
convinced that what is about to be proposed now is not only in tension
with the traditional exegesis but approximates the original meaning
obtained in the paradigm from author, through text, to reader. We have
demonstrated repeatedly that those who take a “mono-think” approach
to serpent symbolism and those specialists who conclude that one
meaning is always dominant simply have read their own
presuppositions into the text or have not immersed themselves in the
multiple, often intentionally conflicting, meanings of serpent
symbolism.
Studying the story of the Garden of Eden in Genesis 3 involves
examining a pictorial narrative that probably has had more impact on
Jewish and Christian exegesis and theology—and art—than any other
biblical story.23 The explanations of human beginnings in Eden, the
“Fall,” and God’s curse appear on center stage today during
discussions of creation, evolution, and ecology. Humans in diverse
sections of world culture have memorized the story, or portions of it,
and understand it from divergent presuppositions, assuming the story
is historical, mythical, folklore, or legendary. Put in central focus is the
greatest human dream and dread: paradise and punishment. We will
be entering the dramatic world of one of the earliest and best literary
artworks in human culture.
The major theological libraries contain thousands of publications
directly or indirectly devoted to a better understanding of this
notoriously difficult narrative. Most of them are Christian and
presuppose the story is about “the Fall of man” who was tempted by
Satan in the form of a snake. Following the equation found in
Revelation 12:9, St. Augustine identified Satan with the dragon (Hom.
36). In Albania, the devil is called dreikj (dragon); in Romania, he is
dracu. Noting this and reading Genesis 3 in terms of the equation that
the serpent equals Satan, A. de Gubernatis claimed: “A devil without a
tail would not be a real devil; it is his tail which betrays him; and this
tail is the serpent’s tail.” As will become clear, this presupposition is
misleading and distorts the complex drama.24
The widespread assumption of biblical scholars and theologians,
for millennia, has been that the serpent is and symbolizes evil. This
presupposition has shaped the interpretation of Genesis. J.
Morgenstern, for example, claimed: “The basis of the folk-tale in Gen 3
is, of course, the natural human horror of serpents.”25 We have seen
that recent ophiologi-cal research proves that fear of snakes is
learned, not experienced; it is an aspect of nurture, not nature.
One of the most insightful publications on the linguistic and
theological subtleties of Genesis 2–3 is R. W. L. Moberly’s article
entitled “Did the Serpent Get It Right?”26 Yet Moberly’s skills are
philological and theological; he has not devoted himself to
archaeology, iconography, and symbology. Thus, rather surprisingly,
he can claim that “in the Old Testament, with the one notable
exception of the brazen serpent made by Moses (Num. 21:4–9), the
serpent consistently represents hostility and threat to man.”27 If the
serpent tells the truth and what he predicts happens, as Moberly rightly
perceives, how can the serpent be hostile and a threat? If Moses uses
the magic of the serpent to win Israel’s release from Egyptian
bondage, how can the serpent be a threat? If Dan is like a serpent that
protects Israel, how can the serpent be hostile and a threat? The
preceding forays into serpent symbology should prove to assist, and
ground, an exegesis and hermeneutical explication of Genesis 2–3.
The presupposition that the serpent symbolizes evil has also
misled those psychologists and biblical scholars too influenced by
Freudian psychoanalysis. In Symbolism in the Bible, Paul Diel, for
example, examines the symbolical meaning of Genesis 3. He claims
that the serpent “symbolizes a psychic function devoid of elevation,
more or less impossible to grasp consciously, and whose bite is no
longer lethal for the life of the body but for the life of the soul.… The
serpent is therefore the symbol of guilty vanity, of exalted imagination
with respect to oneself and one’s desires.”28 Much earlier than Diel, E.
Hampton-Cook presented a novel interpretation of Genesis 3 that was
not based on philological analysis. He argued that the serpent in
Genesis 3 “appears to be intended as a striking symbol of our lower,
earthly nature, consisting of both mind and body, in rebellion against
duty and conscience and the will of God.”29 The Freudian and Jungian
psychologists should have known about the positive attributes of the
serpent since they reputedly studied the dreams in which Asclepius
appears as a serpent.30
It is startling how blind some biblical scholars can be to the images
in the story of Eden. Despite the fact that the woman remains
anonymous during the story,31 or is only defined as “wife,” exegetes
habitually call her “Eve” and distort the narrative by discussing how the
serpent lied to Eve.32 An example is found in the “fully revised”
International Standard Bible Encyclopedia. Note the double error: “In
Gen 3 the serpent, chara-racterized by his craftiness (‘drum, v. 1),
beguiles Eve.”33 Yet, in Genesis 3:1 the woman has no name until the
narrative reaches its climax;34 then, the anonymous woman is given a
name: “And Adam called his wife’s name ‘Eve,’ because she35 was the
mother of all life” (Gen 3:20).36 Likewise, the unattractive features of
God are either unperceived or sidestepped. Many to whom I point out
the apparent correct interpretation (see the following “Questions”)
recoil with shock that conceivably God could say something
misleading and the serpent speak the truth.
Even more misinterpretation is read eisegetically into the image of
the serpent. Despite the ambiguous and sometimes positive image of
the serpent in Genesis 3, some distinguished scholars presuppose
that the serpent is an evil figure and slant both translation and
exegesis so that a negative image of the serpent emerges.37 The
disparaging symbolic meaning of the serpent that begins to appear in
the fifth century in some Christian regions is read back into the
Genesis story, recasting and misrepresenting one of the main
characters. This penchant not only fails to let the images be seen, it is
also tantamount to refashioning them.
 The eisegesis not only miscasts Genesis; it fails even to
comprehend the symbolism of the serpent in subsequent Christian art.
As L. Réau, in Iconographie de l’art chrétien, stated: “The serpent … is
generally the symbol of a demon, but it may also, as we have seen,
symbolize Christ, where it is the attribute of Prudence (wisdom).”38
This quotation was not chosen to suggest that the serpent is a type of
Christ in Genesis 3; the comment only suffices to show that the
popular understanding of one of the most famous stories in the Bible
fails to represent the complex nature of ophidian symbolism in
Christianity. While in the eighteenth century it was still possible to
claim that the serpent in Genesis 3 was the embodiment of evil and
indeed both Satan and the devil ,39 this interpretation is
no longer possible in light of our insights obtained from studying
serpent symbology. It cannot be said too forcefully or with too much
necessary redundancy: the serpent must not be presupposed to
symbolize Satan, or evil, in the Eden Story.40
What then is the popular understanding of the Temptation and Fall?
41 In sermons, popular publications, lore, and even books
masquerading as scholarly, the following ten misinterpretations of
Genesis 3 seem regnant in Christian lore and teaching, especially in
Western culture. I have found the miscasting of the serpent especially
fashionable in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, while the
snake appears often with vigorious positive denotation in the second
and third centuries CE. Here are ten misinterpretations regnant among
Christians, and also frequently among Jews, as they interpret Genesis
3.
First, the serpent is simply the Devil, Satan. With all the power of
evil, Satan is the serpent who tempts “Eve” (actually the woman).
Second, the serpent lies. Satan is the Liar. In Genesis 3, Satan
appears for the first time in biblical literature and lore, and he is the
grand antithesis to God. Satan lies. God speaks the truth.
Third, the serpent is the trickster. He beguiles “Eve.” She is tricked
into doing what she would never herself think of doing.
Fourth, the serpent—and the serpent alone—is responsible for all
the evils in the world. The serpent, Satan, forced the woman to sin.
Fifth, the serpent cannot be one of God’s creatures. He is not
mentioned in Genesis 1–2, in which God’s creation of the animals is
described. The serpent is not one of God’s creations because he is too
evil.
 Sixth, the serpent was ugly and a horrible-looking animal. He is
imagined to be dark, black, and full of evil.
Seventh, the serpent is a male. He entices the woman, perhaps
using some erotic powers to entrap her. When pushed on this point,
people often resort to the unexamined and false assumption that the
serpent is first and foremost a phallic symbol.
Eighth, the serpent is beastly. He has only male features and is an
ugly beast. Here the image of Satan, especially in medieval
Christianity, conflates with the image of the serpent in Genesis 3.
Ninth, before the serpent corrupted “Eve,” all was peaceful in Eden.
The male and female walked with God, together, in the cool of the
evening. There was no tension. All was of one will and harmoniously
unified: the human with all animals, all with the earth, and all with the
Creator.
Tenth, the serpent alone is responsible for the entrance of sin into
creation, the appearance of death. The serpent alone is the cause of
punishment, suffering, and ultimately of banishment from Eden.
This understanding of the Story of Eden is so deeply entrenched in
Christian (and often Jewish) culture, from the pulpit to the pew and
from music to museum, that most would be aghast to hear that each of
these ten so-called insightful readings are either false or a distortion of
the original story in Genesis 3.

Text and Translation

Before we can reveal, and dismiss, these far too pervasive

misinterpretations and misperceptions, we need first to revisit Genesis
2 and 3. Here is E. A. Speiser’s translation from his Genesis in the
Anchor Yale Bible Commentary (he was also the leading translator of
the Torah published under the auspices of the Jewish Publication
Society of America):
God Yahweh planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and placed there
the man whom he had formed. And out of the ground God Yahweh
caused to grow various trees that were a delight to the eye and good
for eating, with the tree of life in the middle of the garden and the Tree
of Knowledge of good and bad….
God Yahweh took the man and settled him in the Garden of Eden,
to till and tend it. And God Yahweh commanded the man, saying, “You
are free to eat of any tree of the garden, except only the tree of
knowledge of good and bad, of which you are not to eat. For the
moment you eat of it, you shall be doomed to death.”
God Yahweh said, “It is not right that man should be alone. I will
make him an aid fit for him.” So God Yahweh formed out of the soil
various wild beasts and birds of the sky and brought them to the man
to see what he called them; whatever the man would call a living
creature, that was to be its name…. yet none proved to be the aid that
would be fit for man.
Then God Yahweh cast a deep sleep upon the man and, when he
was asleep, he took one of his ribs and closed up the flesh at that
spot. And God Yahweh fashioned into a woman the rib that he had
removed from the man, and he brought her to the man. Said the man,
“This one at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. She shall be called Woman
[‘Ishsha], for she was taken from Man [’Ish].”42

Thus it is that man leaves his father and mother and clings to his
wife, and they become one flesh. The two of them were naked, the
man and his wife, yet they felt no shame. Now the serpent was the
sliest of all the wild creatures that God Yahweh had made. Said he to
the woman, “Even though God told you not to eat of any tree in the
garden …” The woman interrupted the serpent, “But we may eat of the
trees in the garden! It is only about the fruit of the tree in the middle of
the garden that God did say, ‘Do not eat of it or so much as touch it,
lest you die!’ “ But the serpent said to the woman, “You are not going
to die. No, God well knows that the moment you eat of it your eyes will
be opened and you will be the same as God in telling good from bad.”
When the woman saw that the tree was good for eating and a
delight to the eye, and that the tree was attractive as a means to
wisdom, she took of its fruit and ate; and she gave some to her
husband and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened and they
discovered that they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together
and made themselves loincloths.
They heard the sound of God Yahweh as he was walking in the
garden at the breezy time of day; and man and his wife hid from God
Yahweh among the trees of the garden.
God Yahweh called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?”
He answered, “I heard the sound of you in the garden; but I was afraid
because I was naked, so I hid.” He asked, “Who told you that you were
naked? Did you, then, taste of the tree from which I had forbidden you
to eat?” The man replied, “The woman whom you put by my side—it
was she who gave me of that tree, and I ate.” God Yahweh said to the
woman, “How could you do such a thing?” The woman replied, “The
serpent tricked me, so I ate.”
God Yahweh said to the serpent:
“Because you did this,
Banned shall you be from all cattle
And all wild creatures!
On your belly shall you crawl
And on dirt shall you feed
All the days of your life.
I will plant enmity between you and the woman,
And between your offspring and hers;
They shall strike at your head,
And you shall strike at their heel.”

To the woman he said:

“I will make intense
Your pangs in childbearing,
In pain shall you bear children;
Yet your urge shall be for your husband,
And he shall be your master.”

To the man he said: “Because you listened to your wife and ate of
the tree from which I had forbidden you to eat,
Condemned be the soil on your account!
In anguish shall you eat of it
All the days of your life.
Thorns and thistles
Shall it bring forth for you,
As you feed on the grasses of the field.
By the sweat of your face
Shall you earn your bread,
Until you return to the ground,
For from it you were taken:
For dust you are
And to dust you shall return!”

The man named his wife Eve [hawwa], because she was the
mother of all the living [bay]. And God Yahweh made shirts of skins for
the man and his wife, and clothed them.
God Yahweh said, “Now that the man has become like one of us in
discerning good from bad, what if he should put out his hand and taste
also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever!” So God Yahweh
banished him from the garden of Eden, to till the soil from which he
was taken. Having expelled the man, he stationed east of the garden
of Eden the cherubim and the fiery revolving sword, to guard the way
to the tree of life. [Gen 2:8–9, 15–23; 3:1–23]43

Questions

What a story! This is a folktale that must have had a long life in oral
traditions before it was compiled from disparate sources by some
unknown writer. During its oral stage, the story grew and was enriched
by Canaanite culture that was shaped by Mesopotamia and Egypt.44
The influences on the author of Genesis 3 from the creation myths of
non-Israelite cultures are certain and not limited to oral traditions.
These were often shaped by earlier accounts that reached a literary
stage; paramount among these would be the Gilgamesh epic. The
Yahwist’s story is indebted to Akkadian, Canaanite, Egyptian, Hittite,
North Arabian, and Ugaritic myths.45
The story is thus symbolical. The archetypal symbols are the story,
not its embellishment.46 Eliade rightly stressed an important insight:
“Myth means a ‘true story.’ “47 Myths are almost always about creation
or origins, and these are always hidden from view. If one ignores the
orality and metaphorical nature of the story and takes it rather literally,
questions (even absurdities) pop out and begin to multiply. Here are
some of them:

1. It is clear that “the tree of life” is in the middle of the garden (2:9),
but where is “the tree of knowledge,” and why is the relationship
between them so ambiguous that some passages imply there is
only one tree (2:9)?48
2. Why did God Yahweh think that man was alone when there was a
deep relationship between the human and God, on the one hand,
and the animals, on the other, and when the human had not
complained of loneliness (2:18)?
3. In the whole history of salvation, recorded in the Bible, why are
God’s first words to the human a command and a prohibition?
4. What does that observation reveal about the relation between the
 divine and the human, according to the Yahwist?
5. Why does the author mention the tree of life only at the beginning
and end of the story (Gen 2:9 and 3:22, 24)?
6. Why are trees so significant to the narrator, and are they
symbolically related to the serpent that often appears in or with a
tree (cf. the images of Hercules in the Hesperides)?
7. Why does the woman later describe the tree of life as being “in the
middle of the garden” (3:3)?
8. Is there some confusion between the relations of the two
significant trees? Do the words in Genesis 3 tend sometimes to
imply that there is only one tree in Eden?49 Did an original story
behind Genesis 3 have two trees? Was one the tree of life and the
other the tree of death? Did the humans eat from the tree of death
and the serpent from the tree of life, as J. G. Frazer suggested?50
9. From what place did God Yahweh take Adam when he “took the
man and settled him in the Garden of Eden”?51
10. What kind of knowledge does the man have when God Yahweh
commands him not to eat of the tree of knowledge?
11. Can the human know that the tree is “the tree of knowledge of
good and evil,” and if God has revealed what that means, then
what does the serpent disclose (in Gen 3:5)?52
12. Why does the narrator not provide explanation for God’s
command and prohibition?
13. The serpent is a wild beast and appears already named, is he
then not one of the “wild beasts” that God Yahweh had made
(2:19) and the man named (2:20)?
14. Why was a rib taken from the man and not something else?
15. Is it because a rib could be taken and no difference would be
noted?
16. Where on a man is the spot of the flesh that “was closed up”?
17. Why does the man refer to, or give two names to, the creature
formed from him: “Woman” (2:23) and “Eve” (3:20)?
18. Are not two tales or myths being merged here?
19. Where does the serpent come from, who named him (or her), and
why does the author claim that God Yahweh “made” it (him or
her)?
20. What is the meaning of the description: “the sliest of all the wild
creatures” (3:1), and does the serpent know good from evil, like
God?
21. Is “sliest” representative of the Hebrew word and context, and
since this characteristic defines not only the serpent but also the
 fox, why was the latter not chosen by the author?53
22. Are the serpent’s first words a statement (“God has forbidden”) or
a question (“has God forbidden”)?
23. Why has the Yahwist avoided his usual way of referring to God,
“God Yahweh” (3:1), and placed merely “God” in the mouth of the
serpent (3:1)?
24. Why are the serpent’s first words inaccurate (3:1)?
25. Is the serpent the only creature, beside the human, who can talk?
26. Why does the woman speak to the serpent; is he attractive?
27. Is the serpent being presented as a male or female?
28. How does the woman know of the command God Yahweh gave to
the man, and why is she responsible for a command given to
another (2:16–17, 3:3)?
29. Why does the woman add to the commandment: “or so much as
touch it” (3:3)?
30. What is meant by the words “Your eyes will be opened” (3:5), and
how are they related to the shamelessness of the man and his
wife (2:25)?
31. What does the author mean by the words “knowing good and
evil,” and why does he place them in the serpent’s speech (3:5)?
32. Is “knowing good and evil” mere discernment, or does it also
involve moral perception?
33. Why did the author write the words “like God knowing good and
evil” and not “knowing good and evil like God”?
34. If the tree of knowledge “was attractive as a means to wisdom”
(3:6), then why would desiring it and taking from it be an act
against God when wisdom was seen as a means to God, and in
Judaism wisdom was equated with Torah, God’s will (cf. viz.
Sirach)?
35. What is meant by “the eyes of both were opened” (3:7), and how
is that related to their physical awareness of being naked?
36. Is not their action of making garments from fig leaves (3:7) morally
superior to God Yahweh’s actions of making them out of “skins”
(3:21)?
37. The humans hide “among the trees” (3:8), not behind them; is
there some link here with the traditions, albeit later, that the
righteous are like trees in the eternal planting or in Paradise?54
38. God told the man that he must not eat of the “tree of knowledge of
good and evil” because “on the day [DTI] that you eat of it you
shall surely die” (2:17); hence, since they do not die immediately,
did God lie?
39. Why should one conclude that the serpent lied? Did he not tell the
woman that if she eats of the tree she will not die but will have
knowledge? And did she not obtain knowledge and does not die
immediately on eating the forbidden fruit (3:7)?
40. Is not the veracity of the serpent underscored when God knows
that the humans know because they ate of the forbidden fruit
(3:11)?
41. The author portrays God Yahweh calling for the man, which is
clearly rhetorical, but is God’s ignorance here related to an
apparent lie?
42. Who could have told the man he was naked (3:11)?
43. What is meant by the woman’s excuse: “The serpent tricked (or
deceived) me” (3:13)?
44. If the serpent told the truth, what portrayal of woman is being
reflected?
45. What does the author mean by stating that the serpent is banned
from “all cattle” and “all wild creatures” (3:14)?
46. If the serpent now must crawl, how did it move before?
47. Did the author imagine or presuppose that his readers knew that
the nachash originally had legs, as we know from ancient Near
Eastern iconography (see Fig. 27)?
48. What kind of a God is being portrayed when God is the source of
“enmity” (3:15)?
49. What kind of a God would be the one who is responsible for pains
of childbirth and the man’s laborious anguish all his life?
50. Is the woman’s urge for her husband not sexual, and why is she to
have a master, her husband? Is it because the reader is to
assume now that she cannot be trusted (3:16)?
51. If God Yahweh made “skirts of skins” for the man and his wife
(3:21), then has someone killed one or more animals, and, if so,
who?
52. To whom does God Yahweh speak, and who is meant by God’s
words: “like one of us in discerning good from bad” (3:22)?
53. Why were the man and woman banished from the garden? Is it
because of God Yahweh’s fear that they would eat of the tree of
life and “live forever” (3:22)?
54. Does the author or the source not comprehend God’s
omnipotence, or is there a residual of ancient myths (esp.
regarding the anguipede giants) that God is vulnerable, even from
humans, his creatures?
55. Why does an author (the same one?) state that only “the man”
(3:24) was banished from Eden (3:22–24)?
56. Where is the Garden of Eden in the author’s mind, and why does
it seem Eden is protected only from the east (3:23)?
57. What would “the cherubim” look like to the author and what is the
meaning of “the fiery revolving sword” (3:24)?

Even more questions could be listed, but at least one point has
been made strikingly lucid. It is clear that a familiar story now seems
strange. A once straightforward account now appears chaotic.
While there are answers to some of these questions, most lead
beyond exegesis (which is focused on the probable meaning of the
words) into unsupported speculation. Our focus will remain on that
mysterious character in the story called simply Nachash; is “serpent”
what the Yahwist had in mind for this noun from the beginning of
Genesis 3?

Scholars’ Reflections

These questions expose tensions and inconsistencies in the first

biblical story, the Eden Story.55 The Genesis story may be well written,
but it is replete with problems. The story is not well constructed. Yet
that is not the evaluation of Speiser, whose translation we quoted. He
wrote: “There is action here and suspense, psychological insight and
subtle irony, light and shadow—all achieved in two dozen verses. The
characterization is swift and sure, and all the more effective for its
indirectness.”56 Where is there any description of or use of “light and
shadow”? With so many contradictions, how can Speiser claim the
narration is “swift” and “sure”?
Speiser’s own pejorative opinion of the serpent apparently has
brought more harmony to the Eden Story than is present in the
Hebrew. Is not Speiser distorting the narrative when he reports that the
serpent “is deliberately distorting a fact” in his first statement to the
woman?57
Th. C. Vriezen summarized scholars’ opinions regarding the form
and function of the serpent in Genesis 3.58 The serpent is interpreted
to be a disguised Satan (the usual Christian interpretation), purely
mythological (in the Talmudim; cf. N. P. Williams), a mythological being
transformed into an animal (viz. H. Gunkel), or a very clever animal
(Vriezen, Westermann).
It should be obvious why so many scholars, especially E. Williams-
Forte, are convinced that in Genesis 3 the serpent symbolizes evil and
cunning, not death, and that the serpent is primarily the Deceiver or
Liar.59 A careful analysis of serpent symbolism in Genesis 3, attention
to details, and repeated attempts “to live in the story” reveals
numerous meanings such as chaos, youthfulness, and wisdom, as
Joines proved.60 Among all of these, the serpent primarily symbolizes
wisdom. The text vitiates the claim that the serpent is the Liar.
In the early centuries of this era, those interested in the Eden Story
sometimes exaggerated the wisdom of the serpent. In Adam, Eve, and
the Serpent, for example, E. Pagels points out that the author of the
Testimony of Truth told “the story of Paradise from the serpent’s point
of view, and depicted the serpent as a teacher of divine wisdom who
desperately tried to get Adam and Eve to open their eyes to their
creator’s true, and despicable, nature.”61
Even in the past few centuries, far too much nonsense has been
devoted to an explication of Genesis 3. In his book, The Ophion or the
Theology of the Serpent and the Unity of God, J. Bellamy sought to
rebuff the supposedly prevalent claim that it was a monkey rather than
a serpent that “was the agent employed in the Fall of Man.” He sought
to lead readers so they will comprehend that “it was a Serpent instead
of a Monkey” that “brought about this business.”62 Such
misconceptions seem to reflect the fear of Darwinism in London in
1911. They are far from the world of scholarship in which questions,
not answers, guide a study.
Many more examples could be selected of how scholars have
failed to see the world of serpent symbology reflected in Genesis 3.
Far too often scholars have read the Eden Story with presuppositions
that were never examined and most likely unperceived. It seems best
to keep the examples at a minimum now and to allude to them or
present them as our exegesis proceeds.

Serpent Symbology and Exegesis

Before proceeding further, I must express, briefly, my deep

indebtedness to the great minds that have helped us comprehend the
oral and literary origin of the first books in the Hebrew Bible. In
focusing on Genesis 1–3 and in particular the symbology of the
Nachash in chapter 3, unfortunately I cannot now assume a
consensus regarding the composition of the Pentateuch, the first five
books of the Hebrew Bible (a better word than Hexa-teuch or
Tetrateuch). The sequence of literary sources in the Pentateuch, J, E,
D, and P, developed especially by Reuss, Graf, Kuenen, and
particularly Wellhausen, is no longer a firm consensus, even if we add
the possibility of a G document underlying J and E (Noth).63 It also
seems evident that Gunkel in 1895, in Schöpfung und Chaos, rightly
perceived a long and ancient oral tradition behind the alleged Priestly
document of Genesis 1. Yet, the existence of J, E, D, and P, their
redactors, the exilic Dtr2, and the editors and compilers of the
prophetic and psalmic texts is a widely held con-sensus;64 it seems
strengthened, if not proved, by the study of the scribal activity evident
in the biblical texts found in the eleven Qumran caves.65
Because there is no longer unanimous agreement on the existence
of J, E, D, and P, there is no solid consensus regarding the date of
Genesis 3. Some views now seem highly unlikely; for example, J.
Morgenstern opined that the story originated “long before the time of
Moses, when our ancestors still roamed the great Arabian Desert.”66
Young opts for the traditional view: Moses was the author of the
Pentateuch, but there are some later editorial additions.67 These views
are not widely held today.
More representative of scholars’ dating of Genesis 3 are the
conclusions by Eissfeldt and Joines. While O. E. Eissfeldt argued for
the composition of Genesis 3 sometime between 968 and 721 BCE,68
K. Joines was convinced we should narrow the range. She suggests
some time between 950 and 850 BCE.69
The earliest possible date for the composition of Genesis 3 is thus
clearly uncertain. Perhaps Genesis 3 was composed, from older
traditions, sometime in the tenth century BCE. Yet, even this prevalent
view reflects our own individual training and perspective. As S. R.
Driver pointed out, in making judgments regarding the date of Genesis
3, we are primarily reflecting our own particular view of a dark period in
history.70
I shall base my reflections on the consensus that, during the reign
of Solomon, in the middle of the tenth century BCE(perhaps 970–931)
when Israel had established prosperous relations with the Philistines
and Egyptians, a person, the Yahwist, composed the earliest
document in the Pentateuch (the first five books in the Hebrew Bible).
In contrast to the later Elohist, who was a moralist and nationalist, the
Yahwist cast the history of Israel with a universal perspective. The God
of Israel is the Creator of the world, humans, and animals, including
the serpent.71
Where does the Eden Story begin and end in Genesis? The story
seems to begin in 2:4b and continues until 3:24. Genesis 2:4b shows a
shift from calling the Creator Elohim to Adonai (YHWH) Elohim; 2:4b
clearly represents another author and the beginning of another
tradition. After the end of chapter 3, “the woman” is given a name. She
is called “Eve,” and then a new story begins; it is about the birth of
sons to Adam and Eve and the tragic relation between Cain and Abel.
This division is affirmed by many, including I. Engnell, who perceived in
the Genesis story of the first man and woman divine beings, king and
queen, and the remnants of a royal annual ritual. When God places
skins on Adam and the woman, they receive royal investiture.72
Genesis 3 no longer is a ritual, if it ever had been. For a study of
serpent symbolism in Genesis 3, the division is crucial; in his masterful
Genesis, Gunkel defined the “Paradiesesgeschichte” as covering
Genesis 2:4b to 3:24 and attributed the composition to “Je” and “Ji.”73
In proceeding, it is essential to comprehend that the first four
chapters of Genesis are not the work of only one author or source. The
maior criteria for discerning more than one source are the doublets,
the two stories of the creation of the human, and the two different
names for the Divine: Elohim and YHWH Elohim (and sometimes merely
YHWH, esp. in chap. 4). Also important is the first use of the toledot (the
generations of) formula in 2:4a that shapes Genesis. It appears in
Genesis 2:4a, and these words seem to be P’s introduction to the J
source [pace BHS and RSV].
In what follows, I have come to agree with G. von Rad in seeing the
author of Genesis 2:4b-4:26, the Yahwist, as the first genius in the long
line of perspicacious Hebrew theologians.74 In the following, it
becomes clear, because of the theological integrity and linguistic skill
throughout the source (2:4b-4:26), that the Yahwist who composed the
second account of creation in Genesis was an individual (the narrative
is not the product of a school [pace Gunkel]). It also seems likely that
the Yahwist wrote because of some crisis (political or theological) in
the tenth century BCE, as G. von Rad and W. Brueggemann concluded.
It is conceivable also that P is a source or the result of redaction of J
and E, as seems likely in Genesis 1–4, as F. Cross has argued.
Today the debate over the compositional character of Genesis
rages, and the old form-critical consensus seems to be in shambles.
While I cannot appeal to a consensus, it is only fair to admit that I find
much insight from sociological sensitivities to the authors, P (broadly
defined) and J (the Yahwist), and the fruitful insights from
religionsgeschichtliche examinations (as with Gunkel). I tend to shy
away from seeing tradition criticism in the rather narrow, traditional
ways of critical orthodoxy. The author of Genesis 3, our focus, was
deeply influenced by earlier myths found in Canaanite culture, and
these (as I discovered and should now be evident) had not only
originated locally in Palestine but had been inherited from
Mesopotamia and Egypt,75 as well as elsewhere (including Hittite
culture). Now I focus on the work of the Yahwist. What has he given
us, and what does he know about serpent symbology? Let us return to
Speiser, since his translation has been chosen to represent a maior
position in advanced research.
Speiser offers misleading advice, based on his misperception of
serpent symbolism, when he argues that the Hebrew in Genesis 3:1,
aph ki, means “even though.” That puts the serpent in a bad light.
Martin Luther also took aph ki to denote something sinister about the
Nachash. He offered this advice: “I cannot translate the Hebrew either
in German or in Latin; the serpent uses the word aph-ki as though to
turn up its nose and jeer and scoff at one.”76 Is this really what the
Yahwist had in mind?
Far more likely than Speiser’s exegesis and Luther’s opinion is the
well-accepted assumption that this expression opens a question. That
is, the Nachash is not “distorting a fact;” he is asking a question. As G.
von Rad pointed out, what the Yahwist has put into focus is not “what
the snake is” but what the Nachash says. The Nachash “opens the
conversation—a masterpiece of psychological shading!—in a cautious
way, with an interested and quite general question (not mentioning the
subtly introduced subject of the conversation, the tree of knowledge,
which it leaves to the unsuspecting woman!).”77
In asking a question, the Yahwist thus portrays the serpent as
being closer to the woman. This insight does not warrant, however, U.
Cassuto’s exegesis, which tends to remove the Nachash from the
narrative. According to Cassuto, the only way to explain the
conversation between the Nachash and the woman is to assume the
“dialogue between the serpent and the woman is actually, in a manner
of speaking, a dialogue that took place in the woman’s mind, between
her wiliness and her innocence, clothed in the garb of a parable.” He
continued, noting that this interpretation allows us “to understand why
the serpent is said to think and speak; in reality it is not he that thinks
and speaks but the woman does so in her heart.”78
The serpent’s cleverness is reflected in his first revealed
characteristic: asking a question. To ask questions and draw close to
others is a positive trait in Israelite and Jewish Wisdom, yet E. Wiesel
imagines the serpent “meddles in affairs that do not concern him.”79
Speiser thinks that aph ki cannot have an interrogative sense.80
One should not be concerned that aph ki appears only in Genesis 3, in
biblical Hebrew, as an introductory phrase. What should be in central
focus are the vestiges of antique Hebrew in the language of the
Yahwist,81 his diverse and probably multilingual sources, the
complexity of the Hebrew elsewhere in this story, and the clear
meaning of the Greek, the other ancient Jewish source of this Eden
Story:

82

And the serpent said to (or questioned) the woman, “Why did God say, ‘you may not eat
from each tree in paradise?’ “

The Greek is clearly an interrogative sentence: note the opening with

the interrogative, “Why” ( ) and the question mark at the end of the
sentence (; [which is a question mark in Greek]).83
Speiser ignored a major obstacle to his understanding of the
Hebrew: the witness of the Greek version. Once we scholars tended to
mistrust the Greek version as a witness to a Hebrew version. We
incorrectly assumed that such differences from the Hebrew were
caused by the work of a translator. Now, we know from the Qumran
Hebrew manuscripts that some (perhaps many) of the “variants” in the
Septuagint are not the creation on the part of a translator; they often
represent early Hebrew texts.84 That observation indicates that we
should keep in focus both the Hebrew and the ancient Greek.
It seems clear, therefore, that the serpent is not deceiving the
woman. It is misleading to label the serpent “ill-omened.”85 He is
addressing a question to the woman. That the serpent asks a question
does not indicate that he is ignorant. Rather the interrogative aligns the
serpent with God Yahweh, who asks the man, “Where are you?” Both
interrogatives are rhetorical dimensions of the Eden Story. Both the
serpent and God are related: God creates the serpent, and both God
Yahweh and the serpent serve the Yahwist to move the narrative along
by asking questions.
Thus, it is best to translate Genesis 3:1 as a question in Hebrew, as
have most commentators and as is found in most popular translations;
here are a few representative translations:
Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made.
And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the
garden’?” [NKJV]
Nun war die Schlange listiger als alle Tiere des Feldes, die Jahve Gott geschaffen hatte; sie
sprache zum Weibe: “sollte Gott euch denn wirklich verboten haben, von allem Bäumen des
Gartens zu essen?”86
Il dit ä la femme: “Alors, Dieu a dit: Vous ne mangerez pas de tous les arbres du jardin?”87
Et le serpent dit a la femme: “Pourquoi Dieu a-t-il dit: ‘Ne mangez pas de tout arbre dans le
jardin’?”88
And he said to the woman, “ ‘Is it true that the Lord God said, ‘You shall not eat of any tree of
the garden’?”89

These reflections lead to an appreciation of the clever use of

language in Genesis 3:1. The Yahwist has adeptly composed Genesis
3:1 so that it is possible to understand, in paradigmatically opposite
ways, the first spoken words in the narrative: the serpents’ words
addressed to the woman . How should one translate
the Hebrew words in parentheses? Although the prohibition or
command is in the emphatic form ( and not ), God’s words may
mean either “You may not eat from every tree of the garden” or “You
may not eat from any tree of the garden.” As Moberly reports, “The
range of options given is as wide as it could be”;90 the Hebrew means
either “every tree” or “any tree.” The ambiguity underscores a little-
known fact; the serpent points out the problem with the prohibition. We
may assume that the humans lack knowledge, so they might have
understood God’s prohibition to mean that all the trees contain
forbidden fruit (“que tous les arbes sont prohibes”).91
Speiser’s negative view of the serpent, which is presupposed and
un-examined, led him to mistranslate the Hebrew that introduces the
serpent: “Now the serpent was the sliest of all the wild creatures.”92 In
fact, the Hebrew ‘rwm, in Genesis 3:1, does not have a negative
meaning, as too many exegetes, like Speiser, assume or claim. It is
rather neutral, and obtains the meaning “sly” or “clever”—even
“wise”—according to the context. The Hebrew noun (from ) is
used twice in Proverbs 12 to denote a wise or prudent man in contrast
to a fool (vv. 16, 23). The translators of the Septuagint chose three
words to translate this Hebrew noun:93 , which can have a
positive sense but usually, especially as used by Aristotle, Philo,
Josephus, and the New Testament authors, signifies one who is
“clever,” “crafty,” or “sly;” , which in classics, the Septuagint, the
Pseudepigrapha, Philo, Josephus, and the New Testament authors
indicates one who is “intelligent,” “wise,” or “sagacious;” and ,
which in all ancient Greek literature specifies one who is “wise,”
“prudent,” and “thoughtful.”
What is found in the Septuagint for ‘rwm in Genesis 3:1? It is the
superlative form of the Greek noun just discussed. The word is
(ppoviLicbtatoq and it means “most intelligent.”94 The Greek noun was
chosen by Plato and Aristotle to describe the most sagacious of all
animals.95 Elsewhere in Septuagint Greek, phronimos is used to
describe the knowledge and wisdom of Joseph. Indeed, the Greek
noun is used by Jesus, according to Matthew, to refer to the
cleverness and wisdom of a serpent.
Later Jewish authors, working under the influence of the increasing
perception of the negative meaning of the serpent, devalue the
positive meaning of phronimos. 96 In fact, they replace this noun found,
in the superlative, in the Septuagint, meaning “most intelligent.” This is
true of Philo (QG 1.32) and Theodoret (Questions on Genesis 31). It is
typical of the Greek translations by Theodotion and Aquila, who chose
to introduce the serpent with the Greek panourgos, “clever,” “crafty,” or
“sly.”
The Targumim also should be included, to see how one should
translate Genesis 3:1, or to learn how later Jews understood ‘rwm. As
one might expect from studying the development of Jewish animosity
to ophidian symbolism, the translator of Targum Pseudo-Jonathan
stresses the serpent’s evil knowledge: “Now the serpent was more
skilled in evil than all the beasts of the field which the Lord God had
made.”97 The Aramaic ( ) means “wiser for evil.”98 This
understanding of serpent symbolism is typical of Palestinian traditions
after the second century CE, and Pseudo-Jonathan represents
Palestinian Targumic traditions. It is interesting that the older symbolic
meaning of serpent has shaped this Targum; the noun chkm,” 99 “wise
one,” is employed, signifying one of the meanings of ‘rwm. The serpent
is recognized to have skills and wisdom, even if it is perverse or evil.
Other Targumim do not, however, stress the pejorative sense of
Genesis 3:1. The reading of Targum Onkelos is much more positive:
“And the serpent was more crafty (or intelligent) than all the
animals.”100 The Aramaic ‘rym ( ) simply represents the Hebrew
‘rwm.101 Thus, studying this Targum would be circuitous and add little
to our understanding of the original Hebrew.
The positive meaning of Genesis 3:1 is preserved in Targum
Neofiti, “The serpent was wiser ( ) than all the beasts.” A. Díez
Macho’s translation thus rightly brings out the positive sense: “Y la
serpiente era más sabia [wiser] que todos los animales.”102 The
Aramaic ( ) means “wiser than” and not “shrewder than.”103
Targum Neofiti, therefore, preserves one of the earlier possible
meanings of the Hebrew in Genesis 3:1, and, in light of the narrative
and the preponderance of positive serpent symbolism before the
second century CE, it probably represents accurately the original
meaning of ‘rwm in Genesis 3:1.
A study of Targum Neofiti brings into focus the linguistic art of the
Yah-wist. Why did he not simply use the noun hkm to reveal that the
Nachash was “wise”? In doing so, he would not be able to bring out
the unity between the Nachash (“the serpent”) and the humans. He
does this in many subtle ways, especially in moving from one line in
which he described the man and wife as “naked,” ‘rwmym, to the next
line in which he introduces the Nachash as “clever,” ‘rwm. The Yahwist
is a gifted linguist; he knows how to use paronomasia with subtle force
to unite his narrative.104
The Yahwist’s attempt to show the unity between the Nachash and
the humans is missed by modern commentators. Early Jews did not
miss the point, however. Note, for example, the following excerpt from
the To-sephta:105
A. And so you find in the case of the snake ( ) of olden times, who was smarter than all
the cattle and wild beasts of the field, as it is said, “Now the serpent was smarter than any
other wild creature that the Lord God had made” (Gen. 3:1).
B. He wanted to slay Adam and to marry Eve.
C. The Omnipresent ( ) said to him, “I said that you should be king ( ) over all
beasts and wild animals. Now that you did not want things that way, You are more cursed than
all the beasts and wild animals of the field” (Gen 3:14).
D. “I said that you should walk straight-up like man ( ). Now that you did not
want things that way, Upon your belly you shall go” (Gen 3:14).
E. “I said that you should eat human food and drink human drink. Now: And dust you shall
eat all the days of your life” (Gen. 3:14). [t. Sotah 4:17]106

According to this interpretation of Genesis, the Nachash was not

originally a serpent. He (not she in Sotah) was smarter than all cattle
and wild beasts (cf. the LXX), desired to kill Adam and marry Eve (cf.
Oedipus), had been promised kingship, walked upright like humans,
and ate human food and drank human drink. While the tradition shows
attentiveness to Genesis 3, it is also expansionistic and midrashic. Yet
the Rabbis knew more about the snake than biblical scholars today;
they knew, for example, that the pupil in the eye of animals is oblong,
but round in humans and snakes (see b. Niddah 23a).
In numerous ways, the Yahwist presents the serpent as “clever”
and “intelligent.” Speiser misses the point, mentioned by Gunkel
earlier, that the serpent is more clever than the human. According to
Genesis 3:5, the serpent has mysterious knowledge known only to
gods.107 He knows what God knows; the serpent says to the woman,
“God knows [ ] that in the day you eat of it your eyes will be opened,
and you will be like God, knowing [ ] good and evil.” Perhaps the
verb “know” provides an inclusio for the thought in this verse. The
humans are to experience good and evil; that is what “to know” entails
in Hebrew. As G. von Rad stated in his commentary on Genesis, the
verb “to know” in Hebrew “never signifies purely intellectual knowing,
but rather an ‘experiencing,’ a ‘becoming acquainted with’ (cf. at Gen
3:5).”108 The spotlight is cast again on the serpent as one who has
godly knowledge. As J. F. A. Sawyer stresses, it is “thanks to the
serpent that Adam and Eve [sic] came to resemble God, ‘knowing
good and evil’ (3.22).”109
The supernatural knowledge of the serpent, reflected in Genesis 3,
aligns it with the gods and reveals the world of mythology and lore
focused on the serpent, which was central to worship and a grasp of
the cosmos in ancient Palestine, especially at Beth Shan in the second
millennium BCE and at Bethzatha in the Roman Period. In 1895 and in
his influential Schöpfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit, H. Gunkel
demonstrated the significance of the serpent motif in the history of
religions and in Ancient Israel.110
Since the Yahwist announces from the outset that the Nachash is
one of God’s creatures, the Nachash cannot be a demonic being of
chaos or represent a power or might opposed to God.111 Even though
nachash is used to denote Leviathan (Isa 27:1) and a monster in the
sea (Amos 9:3),112 the serpent in Genesis 3 is not one of the mythical
monsters. In contrast to Moses’ serpent staff,113 the Genesis serpent
has no magical powers.114
The Yahwist understood what scholars have failed to grasp; he
knew about the mysterious power and knowledge of the serpent. He
possesses supernatural knowledge and knows about life and death.
 The Yahwist may have known and been influenced by the
Gilgamesh epic, since fragments of this epic were found at Megiddo
and it antedates the Yahwist. According to this influential and well-
known tale in antiquity, the serpent possesses supernatural knowledge
and has obtained the secret of “everlasting life.” Only the crucial
sections of the Gilgamesh saga of seventy-two poems may be
excerpted now. The key passage for us is in Tablet 11, col. 6:115
Utnapishtim said to him, to Gilgamesh:
“Gilgamesh, you came here; you strained, you toiled.
What can I give you as you return to your land?
Let me uncover for you, Gilgamesh, a secret thing.
A secret of the gods let me tell you.
There is a plant. Its roots go deep, like the boxthorn;
its spike will prick your hand like a bramble.
If you get your hands on that plant, you’ll have everlasting life.”

Gilgamesh … saw the plant.

He seized the plant, though it cut into his hand;
he cut the heavy stones from his feet;
the sea cast him up onto its shore.
“Urshanabi, this is the plant of Openings,
by which a man can get life within.
I will carry it to Uruk of the Sheepfold; I will give it to the
elders to eat; they will divide the plant among them.
Its name is The-Old-Will-Be-Made-Young.
I too will eat it, and I will return to what I was in my youth.”

The words “return” to “my youth” are a foreshadowing of who will

finally possess the secret of being made young again. Thus, a snake
takes the secret knowledge, and can now be seen everywhere to have
the power to regain its youth. Note how the saga continues:
Gilgamesh saw a pool of cool water.
He went down into it and bathed in the water.
A snake smelled the fragrance of the plant.
It came up through the water and carried the plant away.
As it turned it threw off its skin.

Few would deny the similarity between Genesis and the earlier myths
to the East. As H. and H. A. Frankfort pointed out, in such ancient
myths as Genesis 3 and Gilgamesh, “the assimilation of a concrete
substance would have made the difference between death and
immortality.”116 Most experts, thus, rightly conclude that the Yahwist
was influenced by the Sumero-Babylonian literature,117 perhaps via
Canaanite culture.118
We find in Genesis 3 and the Gilgamesh saga the sacred plant or
tree that brings eternal youth, a woman, and the special garden. The
serpent also plays a prominent role in both stories, and he obtains
what is offered by the tree of life in Genesis 3.119 Note this passage
regarding the huluppu-tree:
On that day a tree, a huluppu-tree, a tree—
On the bank of the pure Euphrates it had been planted …
A lady walking in fear at the word of Anu …
Seized the tree in her hand and brought it to Uruk …
The tree grew large, but she could not cut off its bark.
At its base the snake who knows no charm had set up for itself a nest;
In its crown the Zu-bird had placed his young.

A major part of the Eden Story is missing from the Babylonian

myths. There is no Fall and the serpent does not mislead or cause the
woman to eat from the forbidden tree. There is no myth of temptation
and expulsion from a paradise in the East. There are no etiological
concerns and cures as in Genesis 3. Thus, Cheyne turned to see an
influence on Genesis 3 from elsewhere. He was convinced that the
origin of the Eden Story is with the North Arabian kinsfolk of the
Israelites; these had infiltrated Canaan, although most remained in
Arabia. They had a “Paradise story on which the Israelitish tale is
based;” indeed they “became to a large extent the religious tutors of
the Israelites.”120 If ultimately a Babylonian origin is more attractive for
the Yahwist, Cheyne drew attention to Ea, the lord of wisdom, who
appears frequently as a serpent; he was especially interested in
human affairs.
The issue is not if influences came from Gilgamesh to the Yahwist,
but how, and through which media. Most likely the Yahwist knew the
Gil-gamesh saga and many other similar tales about serpents from
Canaanite culture that was still present, though waning in influence,
near Jerusalem. The purpose of the Gilgamesh saga for us is the ways
in which it helps us understand serpent lore prior to the Yahwist and
the link between serpent symbology and the concept of renewed life, a
return to one’s youthful-ness. This perennial search for youth and
immortal life is embodied by the serpent that does not seem to grow
old and renews its skin or, as the Gilgamesh saga states, the snake
“threw off its skin.”
A ceramic tablet—perhaps from the first half of the first millennium
BCE—seems to depict a scene reminiscent of the Eden Story, the
Gilgamesh epic, and the description of the Hesperides. The tablet,
now in Madrid and allegedly Phoenician, shows from left to right a
winged upraised serpent with a white face (perhaps human), a tree full
of fruit, a woman with “milk” flowing from her exposed breast, a fire at
her feet, a man with a phallus out of which pours “semen” highlighted
by what appears to be a scorpion (a symbol of fertility), a second tree,
and a winged upraised serpent having a dark animal’s head.121 A fish
(most likely part of the zodiac),122 the sun, and three stars are depicted
overhead. Something seems to be flowing between the mouths of the
man and the woman—is it language? If the scene is primarily sexual,
why are both humans clothed?123 The scene with serpents and trees
may have many meanings; one is fertility. The serpents are prominent
and standing upright, as the position of their wings shows. The one on
the left seems to have feet.124
The ongoing study has opened our eyes to the complexity of
serpent imagery preserved in a refracted form in Genesis 3.125 As we
probe deeper, we observe that the genre of Genesis 3 helps one grasp
this insight. Genesis 3 is an early example of Wisdom literature. In it
the Yahwist explains how to live in a world sometimes filled with pain
and death: the excruiating pangs of the woman while giving birth and
the extended burdens of the man while working in the field. And there
he confronts hostile snakes who threaten death.126
In “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” Le Grande Davies offers
these sane reflections:
The serpent of the garden appeared—not as the malevolent, diabolical serpent, but the loving,
kind, powerful, benevolent serpent. He appeared as the serpent of glory, “one of the divine
beings” who saved and imparted wisdom to the world. The serpent of the Garden appeared as
one of the benevolent “anthropomorphical gods” who placed Adam and Eve in the Garden.127

For those who read this story and believed that the God of Israel was
symbolized as a serpent, then we have a dualism. The first story
recorded in the Bible seems to inherit the concept of two serpents: the
obvious serpent who imparts wisdom but also initiates “the Fall” and
the apparent serpent who is elusive, sometimes absent, but related to
the wise Creator.128
In this context, one should observe how the Yahwist portrays the
relation between the serpent and the woman. The woman seems to be
confused. She knows supposedly only what the man had told her. She
has no reason to doubt the sagacity of the serpent, who has the power
of speech (the serpent is unlike Balaam’s ass whose mouth was
opened by God). Apparently, she thinks the serpent is attractive and
knowledgeable because she talks with the Nachash. To her, the
serpent appears to have secret knowledge that was seductive and
would make one like God. This means that she knew God was greater
than she was, or at least had something she desired. Thus, the
serpent is an agent of wisdom and was most likely intended to appear
wise and conferring wisdom, or at least knowledge of good and evil, on
humans.129 This claim may shock many scholars who are familiar with
the usual approach found in commentaries on Genesis.
Yet this claim is not without some precedence in critical research.
For example, C. Meyers indicates this “little-noticed feature” of
Genesis 3. Meyers points out that the woman has a prominent role in
this chapter. The woman, not the man, “perceives the desirability of
procuring wisdom.” She is the first human to represent language, the
divine attribute in humanity, and she does not speak to Satan, despite
later misinterpretations by Jewish and Christian scholars.130
The anonymous woman talks to God’s creature who also can
speak and who is wisely discerning.131 She alone is the “articulate
member of the first pair who engages in dialogue even before the
benefits of the wisdom tree have been procured.” As Meyers indicates:
“The woman’s dialogue with the prudent reptile should be considered
not a blot on her character but rather a comment on her intellect.”132
In Israelite and Jewish literature, including the document Dame
Wisdom and Lady Folly found at Qumran, the woman is the
spokesperson for Wisdom. In Proverbs and in the Wisdom of Solomon
the portrayal of woman takes on a dominant role as the source of
Wisdom; in the latter document Wisdom becomes a feminine
personification (see esp. 6:1–7:30). The woman, like the serpent, has
a close connection with Wisdom in the Bible.
It is now abundantly clear that the Eden Story became garbled and
the serpent was misrepresented. As MacCulloch stated:
The talking serpent of Gn 3 represents a primitive stage of thought…. It is doubtful whether the
serpent was intended in the original story to be evil. More likely he was a divine being, with
superior knowledge and a kindly desire to help man to knowledge denied him by other
divinities. A later recension made his act have evil consequences, and therefore he himself
had evil intentions. The story doubtless arose with a people to whom the serpent was sacred,
and who were impressed with its wisdom.133
It is clear that the serpent was misrepresented by interpretation; it is
less likely that the Yahwist’s account was marred by a later redactor.
The serpent as a symbol of Wisdom (Pos. 18)134 appears, for over one
thousand years, in biblical and parabiblical works. In the Christian
Bible, the serpent’s role in pointing the direction toward Wisdom, or in
symbolizing it, begins with Genesis 3 and culminates in Jesus’
injunction to his disciples to be wise as serpents.
The evidence from the ancient Hebrew and Greek texts of Genesis
3 indicates what we would expect from a careful analysis of ancient
serpent symbology. The author of Genesis 3 is reporting that the
serpent was created by God. The Nachash is associated with that
other world. He was the wisest of all the beasts on the earth. With
these newly acquired insights, let us return to ‘rwm of Genesis 3:1.
To what extent has the narrator intimated that the serpent was Dliy,
not in sensu bono but really a sinister character, and not only finally
but also originally? Long ago, J. Skinner, a professor at Cambridge,
overstressed the demonic features of the serpent, according to
Genesis 3. For Skinner, the serpent was a beast with demonic
wisdom. The Yahwist clarifies the serpent’s connection with the beasts
and concludes the story by cursing the serpent. The developing image
of the serpent in Genesis 3 indicates that Nachash cannot be
placarded as always good (Pos. 5). There are sinister features of the
Nachash; it is the serpent who initiates the process that led to the
banishment of Adam and all related and descended from him from
Eden. The serpent as the symbol of the Death-Giver (Neg. 1),135
Destroyer (Neg. 2), and Bearer of Corruptible Knowledge (Neg. 4) has
left its mark on the Eden Story.
Once again we should recall the complicated multivalence of
serpent symbolism and the fact that in the selfsame narrative—and at
the same time—the serpent may represent good and evil (double
entendre).136 Skinner offers additional advice regarding serpent
symbolism in Genesis 3, and this time his comments are more
representative of the narrative. He suggested that probably “behind the
sober description of the serpent as a mere creature of Yahweh, there
was an earlier form of the legend in which he figured as a god or a
demon.”137 Skinner meant that the serpent may represent a good
demon. Reminiscent of our previous reflections on Agathadaimon are
Skinner’s words: “In the sphere of religion the serpent was usually
worshipped as a good demon. Traces of this conception can be
detected in the narrative before us.”138 These words, added to the
previous reflections, help fill out the complex symbolic dimensions of
the serpent in Genesis 3.
The serpent symbolism of Genesis 3 has evolved within the
development of the story. The Yahwist inherited diverse and conflicted
meanings of serpent symbolism, and he sought to answer issues not
directly related to serpent symbology. He inherited over one thousand
years of finely developed images of the serpent. As Moberly states,
Genesis 3 “gives the impression of standing at the end point of a long
and diverse history of reflection upon the issues and motifs that are
central to it.”139 The long history reflected in Genesis 3 takes us back
into Egyptian mythology and into Assyrian and Babylonian symbolism;
we are also transported to ancient Canaan in which these, and other
traditions, were inherited and formed to make the epitome of
Canaanite mythology. When we look at Genesis 3, we might be
reminded of the many images of serpents that have been found in
controlled excavations in Israel today: the numerous pots with
serpents crawling up and near the rim, the serpents on incense
burners, the gold and silver serpents found in cultic settings, and the
serpent jewelry. When we let these images speak, we are allowed to
hear, in a purer form, the world of the Yahwist. It was a world in which
symphonies were created around the symbology of the serpent. The
Yahwist knew his readers would appreciate the mystery and complex
symbolic world evoked by a serpent in a narrative about creation (cf.
Pos. 7).
Again, we return to Speiser’s commentary on Genesis because it
represents some of the best work in the field. However, an immersion
into serpent symbology reveals that Speiser has not always heard the
images speak. There is no reason to assume, with Speiser, that the
woman “interrupted the serpent” (3:2); that again suggests a negative
view of the serpent. No one should think that the woman would
interrupt God Yahweh, for example. The second address to the woman
by the serpent in Genesis 3:4 may be translated more idiomatically:
“You are certainly not going to die! No, the celestial beings well know
that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be
the same as the celestial beings in knowing good from bad.” This
translation might make it easier to see the serpent as one of “the
celestial beings” since he knows “good from bad.” The woman thus
does not consider the serpent a lower being who could be interrupted.
The examination of Speiser’s commentary on Genesis—a superb
accomplishment that shows a master Semitist at work140 —highlights
how commentators simply assume that the serpent in Genesis must
be totally a negative symbol, and that translations must be slanted, or
skewed, to bring out only negative meanings regarding the serpent in
the Eden Story. We have seen that both an attentive focus on the
Hebrew and Greek primary texts and an appreciation of serpent
symbology reveal many areas in which the standard commentaries on
Genesis may be improved.
Yet one should not seek to portray the serpent only in a positive
light. He does represent the primordial chaos (Neg. 3). The well-
chosen words of Joines are now apposite: “The Yahwist has used the
figure of the serpent to objectify chaos, but not to personify it.” 141 That
is, the image of the primordial serpent as the beast of chaos that must
be slain for order and creation—which we analyzed in Chapter 5—is
present in the “serpent” of Genesis 3, but the serpent was not chosen
by the Yahwist to personify or symbolize chaos.
The serpent serves the Yahwist to elucidate the danger in Eden
and the problems with any commandment. The serpent begins the
process that results in the humans’ loss of innocence, happiness, and
life (not necessarily immortality). The Nachash embodies the
beginnings of pain, labor, danger, and death (see Ps 58:4–5, Prov
23:31–32, Amos 5:19, 9:3). Again, we see, as was demonstrated in
the preceding chapter, that serpent symbolism is multivalent, and
sometimes a good and evil meaning may be present at the same time
in one symbol or word.
The Eden Story elicits many questions. The narrative seems
surprisingly contradictory. For example, is Paradise situated in the
East, as stated in Genesis 2:8, or in the North, as implied in the
following verses (Gen 2:10–14)?142
Why does the story seem so crude and poorly composed? The
most likely answer is that the author was a compiler of diverse and
contradictory mythological traditions and different symbolic worlds;
most of these developed outside Yahwism or Israelite religion, and
certainly prior to and foreign from “Old Testament theology.” Some of
the influence on the Yah-wist certainly came from Mesopotamian
traditions143 and from Egypt. But now we know that Mesopotamian
and Egyptian influences had helped shape Palestinian culture before
the arrival of the Israelites. For example, as previously intimated, a
copy of Gilgamesh has been identified in the ruins at Megiddo, and an
abundance of serpent imagery from Egypt and Mesopotamia has been
found in the strata of ancient Palestine. In fundamental ways, the
Yahwist’s symbols, especially his serpent symbolism, came from
waning Canaanite culture. No one should doubt that the Eden Story
began as lore that was shaped by orality.144
 Immersing oneself in the context of the Eden Story and the myths
that shaped the cultures contiguous with that of the Yahwist, and
certainly impacted his own, helps one distinguish between exegesis
that is philologi-cally, historically, and symbolically formed from a
spiritualization of the story. One can avoid sweeping generalizations
and myopic spiritualiza-tions of Genesis 3 and protect the uninformed
reader from such misleading claims as the following: the temptation
induced by the bad appeared sub specie boni, and sin is “un rifiuto del
bene.”145 Moralizing sermons are not to masquerade as critical
scholarship.
The abundant questions generated by reading and and rereading
of Genesis 2 and 3 should not lead to a failure to appreciate the
artistry of the first biblical narrator: the Yahwist. There are many
attractive features of the story. It is memorable and keeps one’s
interest. The Hebrew contains wonderful subtleties. For example, the
Yahwist cleverly describes how Eve (hawwàh) is the mother of all the
living (hài). There is most likely much more than assonance here.146
The laryngeals, when the Yahwist wrote, were emphasized and the
first word echoed in memory and then was heard along with the
second. Formerly, the woman (‘issâh) was related to the man (‘is); 147
now, she is related to the generations to come, which included those
living in the time of the author. The Yahwist seems to underscore the
fact that humans originate somewhat mysteriously, and probably more
so to him than to us, even though we may need to be present at a birth
to realize it is a grand miracle and mystery. All humans are born out of
the woman, “the mother of all the living.”
The Hebrew of Genesis 3 abounds with evidence that the Yahwist
is a gifted author and has attentively crafted his narrative about the
serpent and the humans in Eden. A. Wénin understands the serpent in
Genesis 3 to symbolize limit, and he sees the concept reflected in the
play on two Hebrew words (both have the same consonants: ‘rm):
‘arôm, “nude,” and ‘arÛm, “wise” or “clever”:
Le serpent est donc ce qui fait miroiter la limite. Le narrateur a d’ailleurs prévenu le lecteur, en
l’avertissant à l’aide d’un superbe jeu de mots, que le serpent est “le plus nu” (en hébreu
‘arôm), “le plus rusé” (en hébreu ‘arûm) de tous les animaux. On a vu plus haut, à propos de
2,25, que la nudité représente entre autres choses l’exhibition, la mise en évidence de la
limite.148

The serpent is then that which mirrors limit. The narrator predisposes the reader to imagine,
with the aide of a superb play on words, that the serpent is both the “most naked” (in Heb.
‘arôm), and the most crafty (in Heb. ‘arÛm) of all animals. One sees earlier, in 2:25, that nudity
represents more than exhibition, it implies the limit.149
P. Haupt points out the paronomasia in the cursing of the serpent: sup
means first “to tread down” and then “to snap.” Translating this verb as
“will persecute,” he suggests understanding verses 14–15 as two
triplets:
Jhvh said to the Serpent,
Since thou hast done this thou art accursed
Of all the beasts all the days of thy life.
Thou shalt crawl on thy belly biting the dust.
I’ll put enmity between thee and her,
Between thy progeny and her progeny;
They will persecute thee [sup], thou wilt persecute them [sup].150
The observations by Wénin and Haupt help emphasize the many
uses of paronomasia in Genesis 3. Note the following examples of
careful composition by the Yahwist:

1. The serpent is clever (‘rwm) in Genesis 3:1, and the man and
woman are nude (‘rwmym) in Gen 2:25.151 The wisdom and
cleverness of the serpent help the human couple to see their
nudeness.
2. The serpent’s cleverness (‘rwm) echoes in the curse (‘rwr).

3. The sound of the word tree (‘s) is heard again in the pain (csb in
Gen 3:16 and ‘sbwn in Gen 3:16, 17) the humans will suffer.152
4. The double use of the verb “bruise” tends to unite the fate of the
serpent and humans.
5. The woman eats (t’kl) of the forbidden fruit so the serpent must
forever eat (t’kl) dust.
6. The serpent is condemned to eat dust (‘pr) and the human to
return to dust Cpr). Perhaps the Yahwist is intimating that when
humans return to dust they will be eaten by the one who eats dust
and—in terms of serpent symbology—never seems to die, or turn
to dust.
7. Adam (‘dm) “shall return to the ground [‘dmh],” according to
Genesis 3:19.

The careful use of words and repetitions sews the narrative

together attractively (each of these words is a Stichwort). Notice that
the author of Genesis 3 knew how to bring out the echoing memory of
previous sounds by repeating words that begin with a laryngeal (‘rwm),
which is often followed by a re-echoing plosive consonant (‘sb and
‘sbwn). The central idea of “tree” may have been highlighted for verbal
and narrative effect, since it begins with both a laryngeal and a plosive
(‘s). In Preexilic Hebrew, the consonants had more distinct and
distinguishing sounds than can be heard today, especially the sounds
demanding effort, like the laryngeals and plosives (as can be still
heard today among some Bedouins in the Arabah).
The linguistic “genius” of the Yahwist seems implied in more subtle
ways. First, the serpent does not use the familiar name of God:
Yahweh God (as the Hebrew order has it). He is permitted only to refer
to “God.” Thus, he is placed outside the framework in which a caring
relation with Yahweh God is experienced. Second, since the serpent
and the woman cannot quote Yahweh God accurately, they are thus
portrayed as adding to or subtracting from God’s word (cf. Deut 4:2
and Prov 30:6).153
The Eden Story elicits so many questions, was written so early, and
absorbs so many earlier symbols and ideas. Yet the later writers did
not rewrite or appreciably edit it, although the Priestly Writer added
Genesis 1:1–2:4a and so framed the prefatory comments. That means
the Eden Story had achieved an attractive status by the end of the
tenth century BCE(most likely). The beauty of the Eden Story comes
into focus again when we hear the words of Gunkel that are directed to
the “stories in Genesis”:
We certainly … are of the opinion that whoever passes over these stories without attention to
their artistic form is not only deprived of a great pleasure, but is also unable to carry out
properly the scholarly duty of understanding Genesis. Indeed, scholarship is fully justified in
asking the question; of what does the specific beauty of these stories consist? The answer
penetrates deeply into their content and religion.154

We have seen how an attention to ancient Near Eastern serpent

symbology has increased our appreciation of the artistic form achieved
by the Yah-wist in Genesis 3; he was a rare and gifted linguist. We
have also skirted a misleading dichotomy; we did not ponder whether
the Eden Story was the result of popular tradition or the creation of an
individual poet. Genesis 3 is not only reflective of both, but it is also
“ultimately a creation of the people in common,” as Gunkel
ascertained.155 Using language shared with me by S. Talmon, we can
perceive that the People of the Book have given us the Book of the
People. That is, the Yahwist represented the emergence of Israel and
the people united around a common story as Israelite religion took the
shape we now find at the beginnings of the Hebrew Bible. Genesis 3 is
not only at the beginning of the Hebrew Bible, it appeared at the
beginning of Israelite narrative history.
More examples of the careful use of language by the Yahwist could
be given. These would help us appreciate more deeply the beauty of
the Eden Story, but that is not our chosen purpose. Our present task is
to keep in focus the central question: What is the symbolic meaning of
the serpent in Genesis 3? Let us now isolate the issues that pertain to
the serpent.
First, the Nachash is one of the beasts of the field that “God
Yahweh had made” (3:1; cf. 2:19). This information raises doubts
whether the Nachash is adequately represented by “serpent” in
Genesis 3:1. The author introduces the serpent the way it appears
naturally; the serpent arrives unexpectedly and spontaneously. While
the author does not clarify who named the serpent (2:20), he makes it
clear that the serpent is one of God’s creatures.
Second, we are not told from where the serpent has come. That is
a part of the attractiveness of the narrative. The serpent simply
appears. The author does clarify, in contrast to much of Near Eastern
lore and symbolism, that the serpent is not a god and that he was
“made” by God Yahweh. To what extent is the serpent in Genesis 3
presented as if he were a messenger from another world?
Third, we are not told where the serpent is located in the narrative.
Most artists place him (her) on or around the tree. Far more likely, in
light of serpent iconography, he is standing, on two or more feet.156
Did the Yahwist imagine that the serpent stood face-to-face with the
anonymous woman?
Fourth, is the “focal point of the narrative” the tree of knowledge?
157 That places the serpent in a minor position. The story does focus
on knowledge and wisdom, but the serpent is as central as the tree.
Genesis 3 opens with the Nachash, and he remains dominant either
explicitly or implicitly from 3:1 until 3:15. At that point God curses him
(her).
We asked what the serpent might reveal or disclose in Genesis 3:5.
If there is a tree of the knowledge of good and evil, then it is either
unknown to the humans or some knowledge about this tree is revealed
to them by God Yahweh. G. von Rad points to the difficulty in the
Hebrew behind “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,” and asks:
“Does man already know it as such?” And if God here reveals the
mystery, what sense has the snake’s explanation (ch. 3.5)?” G. von
Rad continues by pointing out that the suggested emendation (cf.
BHS), “from the tree in the midst of the garden,” agrees “with what the
woman gives as the wording of the prohibition (ch. 3.7).” He then
notes, correctly, that such knowledge entails more than the “law of
psychological credibility.” It involves “omniscience in the widest sense
of the word.”158 Surely, knowing demands experiencing.
More in focus than any tree in these verses are the words between
the woman and the serpent (3:1–5). No conversation with her husband
is mentioned (3:6–7; cf. 3:12). After the conversation between God
and Adam becomes central (3:9–12), God addresses the woman and
she answers (3:13). God next addresses and curses the serpent and
the land (3:14–15). God does not curse the woman (3:16) and the man
(3:17–19).
Now, we may ask “Where is God in this story?” God does not
appear to be the protector of Adam and the woman. Is he not an
absent god (a deus absconditus)? Le Grande Davies offers some
insight: “The serpent of Genesis 3 most certainly is portrayed as part
of the Garden of Eden. He is the main character associating with
Adam and Eve. As a matter of fact more is stated about his
association with them than their association with their God, who seems
for a time to have left their presence.”159
The opening of Acts implies an absentee Christology: Christ has
left the disciples and will return as he ascended into heaven. Likewise,
the Eden Story God implies that Yahweh is absent in Genesis 3:1–7 so
that the Yahwist must introduce him again: “walking in the garden in
the cool of the day.” Then, as the narrative develops, Adam and his
wife can be shown to realize that they are now naked (not the of
Gen 2:25 but of Gen 3:10, 11) before the God who returns to walk
with them.
Adam had been assigned tasks in the garden, so work antedates
the punishment: Adam was to till the garden (Gen 2:15).160 Paradise
was no place of contemplation, rest, or sensual pleasure.
The narrative ends when God casts the man (and, by implication,
the woman but not the serpent) out of the garden (3:24).161 The
dialogue moves from interrogatives to curses and rejection. If dialogue
is central to this narrative, the serpent, the woman, and God are the
dominant characters. This conclusion is strengthened by the
recognition that in the patriarchal stories it is God’s word that
influences actions.162
 Fifth, are the serpent’s first words inaccurate (3:1)? According to
Speiser, the serpent “is deliberately distorting a fact.”163 Speiser
assumes the serpent is a male, since he uses the pronoun “he” in
referring to the creature.164 Speiser clearly believes the serpent is an
evil creature. The serpent’s words cannot be inaccurate if they are a
question, which we have seen to be highly probable.
According to Genesis 2:16–17, God Yahweh gave only one
command to Adam. Note the often-missed poetic form:
From every tree of the garden you may freely eat;
But from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you may not eat,
For in the day that you eat from it you will surely die.

My translation represents the Hebrew words that are omitted in

translating, and lays out God’s first command in poetic parallel lines
(parallelismus membrorum), a form that signifies exceptionally
important words165 that are often intended to be memorized.
How are God’s words reported by the serpent and the woman? The
serpent does not report God’s commandment to Adam; in 3:1, he asks
the woman, “Did God really state, ‘You may not eat from every tree of
the garden’?”166 If the Nachash asks a question, one cannot conclude
that he is deliberately misquoting God. The woman summarizes God’s
commandment, repeating that she and her man, Adam, may eat of the
fruit of the trees in the garden, but God had a proscription. Regarding
“the tree in the middle of the garden,” presumably the “tree of the
knowledge of good and evil,” God said, according to the woman, “You
may not eat of it, and you must not touch it, lest you die.” The woman
is not quoting God verbatim; she is summarizing God’s command and
clarifying that the “tree of the knowledge of good and evil” is in the
middle of the garden. Such repetition helps readers understand the
lone commandment and helps them comprehend and imagine the
scene: the place of the tree. The text does not suggest that the serpent
has failed to represent God’s commandment and thus has deceived
the woman. The presupposition that the serpent in Genesis 3 is an evil
symbol is not supported by the passage in focus.
Sixth, why does the serpent approach the woman and not the
man? Is it perhaps, in the eyes of the Yahwist, because the woman is
naïve and weaker than the man since she was taken from his body? Is
she chosen because she really needs a “master” (3:16)?167 Does she
remain nameless, until 3:20, and subsumed under the category of
“woman” and “wife” because of the dominance of men in the Yahwist’s
culture? Perhaps the correct answers partly lie along such lines that
expose the Yahwist’s patriarchalisms. This interpretation was inherited
and emphasized by Philo, who in Questions and Answers on Genesis
1.33, explained that the serpent by trickery and artfulness deceives,
and the woman “is more accustomed to being deceived than man.”168
Genesis 3:20 (“And Adam called his wife’s name Eve, because she
was the mother of all living [humans]”) seems out of context and
perhaps inserted in its present place by a later editor (redactor).
However, as A. J. Williams perceives, it actually provides “an important
insight into the whole context of Gen 3.”169 The verse reveals an
important relationship between Eve and the serpent, which was
already present in the narrative.
H. Gressmann probably erred in thinking that Eve and the serpent
were originally identical;170 although there was probably far more
kinship between “Eve” and the serpent in the mind of the Yahwist and
his contemporaries than Genesis 3 now suggests to modern minds.171
The ancient mother goddesses wreathed with serpents, or a serpent,
does not seem significantly to shape the presentation of Eve in
Genesis 3:20. Although too speculative to many biblical experts, W. F.
Albright’s claim that Eve had originally been a serpent goddess is
stunningly astute and perceptive.172
There is some enigma in Genesis 3:20. It should, however, be seen
against the context of Genesis 2–3. That is, “life” in Genesis 3:20 is
intended to be seen in light of the “curse” of Genesis 3:16 and the
“naming” in Genesis 2:20. Eve, the one who (along with the Nachash)
brought death to humans, is to be the mother of all life.
What new perceptions are released when we recognize that the
woman and the serpent may well both be feminine beings? If males
are dominant in the society of the Yahwist, what do we learn when we
comprehend that the serpent may well be feminine yet has a role more
dominant and powerful than Adam (the man) in the narrative?173
Again, with such penetrating questions the importance and positive
attributes of the serpent begin to appear.
Seventh, what is meant by the woman’s excuse, “the serpent
tricked (or deceived) me” (3:13)? Has the Yahwist’s source, or the
Yahwist himself, included the concept of the serpent as the cosmic
trickster, the Deceiver, or the Liar? The Hebrew verb translated as
“tricked” (the Hiphil of II) also means “cheat” or “deceive.” Thus, it is
misleading to assume that the Yahwist knew his reader would realize
the serpent was a trickster. The words in Genesis 3:13 appear in the
narrative to explain the woman’s attempt to escape blame and
punishment. The attempt of the woman to offer an excuse should not
be assumed to be an accurate assessment of what the serpent has
said and done.
Before proceeding further, we may learn from those who approach
Genesis 2–3 from structuralism. R. Couffignal follows C. Lévi-Strauss’
method for exploring the unknown realm (terra incognita) of the
Garden of Eden. Cleverly seeing that the introduction of the first
humans is “le commencement du commencement,” he imagines the
following structure in Genesis 2–3:
fruit not consumed nudity without embarrassment law accepted
fruit consumed nudity with embarrassment law violated
In this structure, Couffignal finds that the serpent is “the trickster par
excellence, the Deceiver” (“le trickster par excellence, le Décepteur”).
Is this “exegesis” a result of philological and textual analysis?
Focusing on myths and not examining the text misleads Couffignal.
For example, he imagines that “the serpent of Eden” (“le serpent de
l’Eden”) is “the Guardian of God’s treasure” (“le gardien du trésor des
dieux).”174 In Genesis 2–3, the fruit and the tree are not defined by the
Yahwist as God’s treasure, and the Nachash is not described as a
guardian, as in the Garden of the Hesperides.
Eighth, has the serpent or God lied? Moberly rightly points out the
“fact that apparently the serpent and not God spoke the truth.” He then
suggests that this point may be “the central issue that the story
raises.”175 How theologically sophisticated was the Yahwist? I shy
away from concluding that he knew that God Yahweh was
supercategorical and could not be subsumed under ethical norms,
such as “truth.” I can imagine, however, that the Yahwist grasped that
God Yahweh could not be controlled or understood, and that the
Creator remains far too elusive. He probably comprehended that God
cannot be defined by consistency.
In such reasoning, we must avoid another misleading dichotomy.
Far too often critical scholars distinguish too neatly between allegory
and reality, concluding that the Paradise Story is simply allegory. The
Yahwist did not fall into the trap of assuming that his stories were
merely allegories and not a description of reality. For him, the narrative
of Genesis 3 “really took place.”176 If we are to enter into his “real
world,” we need to imagine, on reading Genesis out loud, that the
Nachash was attractive as well as someone with whom the woman
could engage within a meaningful world of discourse. As von Rad
stated, what distinguishes the Nachash “from the rest of the animals is
exclusively its greater cleverness.”177 He was indeed the cleverest of
all the beasts of the field created by God Yahweh.
If the serpent lied, then he is indeed the Deceiver or Liar (Neg. 5). If
he had not lied, then he may symbolize a wise creature that knew and
told the truth. God had said to Adam that if he ate from the forbidden
tree, he would die on the same day. The serpent disagreed with God;
he said if the woman ate from the forbidden fruit she would not die but
obtain knowledge. Thus, the Nachash is portrayed as an authority on
life and, as Joines stated, “This reptile was a respectable
representative of life or recurring youthfulness.”178 These deep
meanings of serpent symbology were clarified in the preceding chapter
(cf. Pos. 20, 23, 26, and 27) and are evident when one sees a snake
rise up before one, defining life and its limits.
In his Slaying the Dragon: Mythmaking in the Biblical Tradition, B.
F. Batto perceptively writes: “In Christian tradition the serpent has been
maligned as a figure of Satan, who duped an innocent couple through
a blatant lie. But that is hardly the figure the Yahwist intended.” Batto
stressed: “The serpent spoke the truth.”179 Many scholars point out
that the cleverness of the serpent is underscored in the narrative by
his (or her) telling the truth; what he predicts is what happens. The
couple gains knowledge.180 And the acquisition of knowledge is a
divine attribute, as becomes clarified in the Hebrew Bible and
throughout Jewish and Christian literature.
The truthfulness of the serpent’s prediction, and correction of God,
is clarified twice in the narrative. First, God directly supports the
serpent’s wise perception, informing Adam that since he knows he is
naked he must have eaten the forbidden fruit. The Yahwist does not
inform us about the type of forbidden fruit on the tree. It is not the fig
that appears later. It is not the apple, which arose in early Latin
Christianity because malum, “apple,” rhymed with malus, “bad.”181 The
forbidden fruit, according to the Yahwist, would be some mysterious
and attractive fruit known perhaps only in Eden (cf. Gen 3:6).
Second, upon eating the forbidden fruit, the woman lives to give
some of it to her husband, and they both live to receive God’s
banishment. The narrator relates how the serpent’s understanding and
prediction are true. Adam must return to dust. Adam and presumably
the woman are banished from Eden; later they die. The Yahwist would
disagree with those exegetes who conclude that Adam and Eve die
because they ate from the forbidden fruit. He concluded his narrative
with God’s condemnations. The cause of human death is God
Yahweh’s edict concerning Adam, which includes Eve, in Genesis
3:19: Adam (‘dm) will return to the ground (‘dmh), because he is from
dust and shall return to dust.
The Yahwist’s narrative does not imply, though it is prima facie
conceivable, that the serpent has immortality. The Yahwist does
suggest that God Yahweh announces that only the humans will die,
but that scarcely implies that the serpent will not die. The serpent is
cursed, and he is not banished from Eden, but that does not indicate
he remains in the garden. He is not damned to mortality and death as
is Adam, but that does not imply the serpent obtains immortality. Does
the Yahwist know that the serpent symbolized immortality (Pos. 27),
and does this understanding prohibit him from stating clearly that the
serpent is condemned to death? The serpent symbolized immortality
and eternal life in Canaanite culture and in all the cultures contiguous
with ancient Palestine (Pos. 20). Has the ambient culture helped to
shape the Yahwist’s magnificent story regarding the serpent’s only
apparent immortality?
D. Jobling argues that the main problem in the Eden Story is the
portrayal of God. Jobling even suggests that to “characterize him [God]
as villain is not impossible, in view of 3:8 (the Garden is for his own
enjoyment), and vs. 23 (where he feels ‘threatened’ by the man!). As
villain, he is the opponent of the main program.”182
Jobling frames the problem of God in the Eden Story. God is
indeed the liar, in some ways, but he is primarily the Creator and has a
right to make demands. Without any demand or prohibition there
would be no possibility of human freedom, and God would not have
created something “free” of him. The importance of Jobling’s insight
and exegesis for us should be clear. It frees us from the millennia of
misguided exegesis of Genesis 3 and helps thinkers escape from the
misperception that the serpent is the villain in the story.
Retrospectively, in the theology of the Pentateuch, the serpent
receives the blame for sin. Death is associated with him (cf. Neg. 1).
God proves to be benevolent and prescient; humans die as God
predicted. One might even perceive that God’s prediction of death was
immediate—life was not defined quantitatively.183 After the act of
disobedience, the human, for the first time, and immediately, fears
God. And, since the story concludes with etiological concerns, what
was predicted by God must come true; that is, since the story is about
the origins of such problems as childbirth,184 hard physical labor, and
death, any prediction about their future existence is proved by the
retrospective explanation.
In Genesis 3, however, the serpent is at best indirectly related to
the death of Adam and the woman. The threat of death antedates the
appearance of the serpent. God had stated emphatically that, if Adam
eats of the tree, he would certainly die (Gen 2:17). God’s prohibition
may have been comprehended as a prediction, since God foreknew
that the command would be broken: “For on the day that you eat of it
you shall surely die.” The word “you eat” is a verb with a pronominal
suffix; it literally means “your eating.” Genesis 2:17 could be
understood to mean that God Yahweh, whom the Yahwist knew was
not limited by time, said: “And from the tree of the knowledge of good
and evil you must not eat from it, for on the day of your eating from it
you shall most certainly die.” Perhaps there is foreshadowing here in
the Yahwist’s narrative, and conceivably he, and certainly subsequent
readers, observed that God Yahweh knew that the prohibition would
be broken. Indeed, in Genesis 3:11 God Yahweh does not seem
shocked or surprised that Adam has broken the single commandment.
The serpent appears to tell the truth. The humans do not die “on
the day”;185 that is, they do not die immediately.186 One could argue
that “on the day” eventually included the death of Adam and Eve
because the length of days was presupposed.187 One might claim that
God does not allow Adam and the woman to die immediately because
God is full of grace,188 but that forces Christian theology on an ancient
Israelite text. Such arguments reveal self-pleading and miss the
philological fact that (Gen 2:17, 3:5) denotes not only “on the (that)
day,” but also “concomitantly” (i.e., when you eat you die),189
“when,”190 and “immediately.”191 The serpent was correct; the woman
and Adam ate and did not die immediately.192 As Batto states:
In Christian tradition the serpent has been maligned as a figure of Satan, who duped an
innocent couple through a blatant lie. As D. O. Procksch, H. Seebass, and others have stated,
the Nachash is the last figure in the drama to be introduced; he is one of God’s creations, a
beast of the field, and cannot be Satan, a demon, or any mythological creature.193 But that is
hardly the figure the Yahwist intended. In his telling, the serpent spoke the truth. The woman
and her husband did not die, as Yahweh God had said, “on the day you eat of it” (2:17).194

Upon eating of the forbidden fruit, Adam and the woman

instantaneously obtain knowledge. They also are now afraid of God
Yahweh. Did not this “enlightenment” prove the veracity of the
serpent?
According to the narrative, the serpent (to a minor extent), the
woman, and the man (clearly and emphatically) are revealed as
creatures who cannot accept responsibility for being disobedient to
God Yahweh. We learn that it is the concept of disobedience, not
falsehood, that defines “sin” in the Eden Story. G. von Rad accurately
defined the Eden Story in light of ancient Near Eastern mythology:
“How simple and sober is our narrative, compared to the sensual
myths of the nations, in letting the meaning of life in Paradise consist
completely in the question of obedience to God and not in pleasure
and freedom from suffering, etc.”195
Since God’s command did not include the serpent and since he did
not eat from the forbidden fruit, one should be cautious in concluding
that the serpent was disobedient and sinful. Artists know what biblical
scholars fail to discern. In painting the expulsion from Eden, one can
depict the banishment of Adam and possibly Eve, but not the serpent.
He was not banished from Eden. Why? Is it because he did not eat of
the fruit and thus did not disobey God Yahweh’s command—which
was addressed only to Adam?
Ninth, what does the author mean by stating that the serpent is
banned from, or cursed among (which is better), “all cattle” and “all
wild creatures” (3:14)? The concept of banning seems inappropriate
since the author might have been expected to have mentioned that the
serpent was also banned from the birds (2:19–20), with which it is
often connected phenomenologically, iconographically, and
symbolically (as at Beth Shan). The Hebrew verb Yr—translated as
“banned” by Speiser—is the customary word for “cursed,” especially
when God is the subject, as in Genesis 3:14. The verb also seems to
mean to “restrain (by magic)” or “bind (by a spell).” Perhaps the
Yahwist has inherited words and concepts from Canaanite serpent
cults in which the serpent’s magic was honored or worshipped.196 He
certainly would not want to give the impression that the serpent was to
be worshipped because it had magical powers. It is far from clear what
serpent symbolisms the Yahwist inherited. It is certain, however, that
he did not create the symbolism, but was deeply influenced by earlier
serpent symbology, much of which was too contradictory for him, or
anyone, to comprehend.
Tenth, if the serpent now must “walk [crawl] on its belly” ( )
(Gen 3:14),197 how did he move before? Did he originally have legs as
we know from ancient Near Eastern iconography (see esp. Fig. 27)? If
the author did not have this thought in mind, the author of his sources,
and those who knew them, passed them on, or read his account of the
Eden Story would have often made such an assumption. Possibly
Jubilees 3:23, at least according to Glycas (c. 1150) and R. H.
Charles, concluded with a mention of the serpent having his legs cut
off.198 Does this interpretation of Genesis 3:14 appear in Jewish
documents?
According to Josephus, the serpent “maliciously induced the
woman to taste of the plant of wisdom” and so lost the ability to talk,
received “venom beneath his tongue,” and was deprived of feet (Ant
1.42, 50).199 Ephrem Syrus also seems to assume that the Nachash
originally had feet.200
The serpent’s transgression was not to use reason or to talk; these
were gifts from God. The serpent’s transgression was to use physical
force; according to Midrashic exegesis, the serpent pushes the woman
into the tree.
The Targum Pseudo-Jonathan adds to Genesis 3 the removal of
the serpent’s feet. Note the addition by the Meturgeman: The Lord
God “said to the serpent [ ], ‘Because you did this, cursed are
you…. Upon your belly you shall go about, and your feet shall be cut
off ].’ “201 According to R. Simeon b. Lakish, in Midrash Kabbah,
Ecclesiastes, when God had cursed the serpent (Gen 3:14), “the
ministering angels descended and cut off its hands and legs [
], and its cry went from one end of the world to the other.”202
The same interpretative expansion of Genesis 3:14 appears in
Midrash Kabbah Bereshith (Genesis) 20.5.203
Are these Jews who report that the serpent originally had hands
and feet (or legs) merely speculating, or are they perspicacious
exegetes? They are assuredly the latter, and they saw what is in the
text. They spent their lives debating the meaning of the text: focusing
and digesting, and imagining the scene. They did not devote a large
portion of their time to research reading and regurgitating the
comments of others. Let us go back to Genesis 3 and see what should
be before our eyes.
Biblical scholars have assumed the Nachash ( ) is a reptile.204
Everyone can defend such a translation by simply citing a lexicon. But
the narrative is definitive in ascertaining the meaning of the Nachash.
The author presents his composition with echoes; these clarify that the
so-called serpent is not a reptile. Genesis 3 begins with the words that
the Nachash ) was the cleverest “beast of the field [ ] that the
Lord God had made.” The Nachash is thus one of the beasts of the
field, not one of the cattle or reptiles. The author cannot expect his
reader to know that this verse echoes the subsequent chronologically,
yet preceding literarily (P) account in Genesis 1:24. Yet, it is the
Priestly Writer who makes it clear that the Nachash cannot be a
reptile.
According to this passage (1:24), God created three types of living
creatures on the earth: the cattle ( ), the creeping animals (or
reptiles [ ]), “and the beast of the earth” ( ). It should be
obvious that the Nachash ( ) is not like the cattle. Biblical exegetes
may be astounded to discover that, in its final form, Genesis does not
categorize the Nachash with reptiles.205
The categorization occurred even earlier. The Yahwist reports,
according to Genesis 3:1, that the Nachash is one of the beasts of the
field (or earth). The Yahwist seeks to stress that the Nachash was
originally very much like the human: wise, able to speak, upright, and
most likely with feet (at least, and maybe hands).206 In Genesis 3:1–
13, the Nachash ( ) chould be imagined as beautiful and attractive,
as the great artists, like Mosolino (see the following), imagined and
represented; after all, the woman associates and talks with him or her.
The comment that the serpent must now crawl on its belly refers back
to the beginning of the account. Is Genesis 3:14 (the Nachash is now
clearly a crawling serpent) not an echo of 3:1 (the Nachash
adumbrates a serpent who will have to crawl)?
It is clear that the Nachash has been altered. He formerly did not
have to crawl on his belly; now, he must eat dust and crawl on his
belly. This seems obvious now, but the perception has been missed by
many scholars. For example, the esteemed Semitist P. Joiion argued:
“[The] serpent, before the curse, was not able to move except creeping
on his belly; after the curse, he continued to move on his belly: Nothing
changed” (“[Le] serpent, avant la malédiction, ne pouvait marcher
qu’en rampant sur le ventre; après la malédiction il continue à marcher
sur le ventre: il n’y a rien de changé”).207 Being ignorant of the
iconography and symbology that clarify the contexts of our biblical
texts leads to such misperceptions. The Yahwist most likely knew the
regnant serpent symbolism in the Levant by which the serpent had
legs; he makes it clear that God Yahweh cursed the serpent and
declared that “because you have done this” (3:14)—that is, deceive
the woman—you are now cursed, and you shall henceforth crawl on
your belly. Has not the Yahwist cleverly elevated the human above the
beasts of the field by narrating that when Yahweh God again appears
in the garden, he asks Adam, but condemns the serpent?208
Eleventh, to whom would the Yahwist imagine Yahweh God spoke
when he said, “Now that the man has become like one of us in
discerning good from bad”? To whom could Yahweh God be referring
by “like one of us” (3:22)? The Yahwist does not inform us, but the text
invites us to imagine who could be Yahweh God’s interlocutor. Texts,
no less than art, remain lifeless and meaningless without the reader’s
active imagination, which must be stimulated and guided by attention
to the details in the narrative.209 Thus, with erudition and imagination
controlled by the details and innuendoes of the Yahwist, the Aramaic
translators of the Targumim can surmise that God was talking to the
administering angels. Yet angels are not mentioned in the Hebrew text.
Another, probably divine, being is, however, present; and his role has
been to be the talking creature.
In the narrative, beside Yahweh God, only the woman, the man,
and the serpent speak. The first two are omitted as possibilities
because God is speaking to someone about them (I assume “the man”
in 3:22–24, because of its connection to the previous verses, is a
collective for man and woman). The only option left open, in terms of
the story, is the serpent. Could these words, somewhere in the past,
have included the serpent? In the present narrative, one learns that
only God and the serpent originally knew about good and evil. Perhaps
the Yahwist, as editor and compiler, has left an echo of traditions that
portrayed the serpent as a god among other gods, now dethroned by
the Yahwist and the growing influence (or foreshadowing) of
monotheism.
In the Yahwist narrative, the serpent seems to possess divine
knowledge. He apparently has the knowledge of what will happen if, or
when, the human eats of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. Thus, he
has the knowledge that only God seems to possess. Does the serpent,
then, also know what is in the future? How else could the serpent
predict—correctly in contrast to God—what will happen when the
woman and man eat of the forbidden fruit? The serpent also knows
what only God Yahweh knows: he knows the difference between good
and evil. Thus, the Nachash seems to have features of a god.
Pondering these aspects of the story, one can imagine that perhaps
Nachash had already eaten of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. That
exegesis would explain why the Nachash is introduced as “clever,” and
speaks with assurance of what will happen when the human eats of
the fruit. It then becomes remarkable that the Nachash would choose
to share this knowledge with these humans, who otherwise would be
left in a state of pitiful ignorance.210
The serpent has intimations of divinity in the biblical story of Eden,
although the Yahwist most likely tried to remove them. The Yahwist
attempts to tone down the possibility of many gods, including the
serpent, by categorizing the serpent beneath God. He is among God’s
creatures. The Yahwist moves the story in the direction of portraying
the serpent as an adversary of the Creator.211 Hence, in speculating
on pre-Yahwistic serpent symbolism, we are not seeking to discern the
theology of the Yahwist.212 We are exploring pre-monarchic serpent
symbolism that may still be mirrored in Genesis 3 and causing the
narration to be less than clear, evoking numerous questions. It is thus
conceivable that the Yahwist has left a trace of an earlier myth in which
a god speaks with a serpent god about knowledge (of good and
evil)213 and eternal life. According to H. Ringgren, the serpent of
Genesis 3 is to be identified with either El, the supreme god in the
Ugaritic pantheon, or Baal, the god of lightning and storms.214
The possibility that the one to whom Yahweh God is speaking may
have been the serpent—in an earlier version of the story—arises
because the Yahwist has left in his narrative traces from older myths
and legends regarding the serpent. These make sense within Near
Eastern serpent iconography and symbology in which the serpent is
portrayed as divine and a god (Pos. 11). These traces suggest that, in
traditions inherited by the Yahwist, the serpent may have been
addressed by God. He discerns “good from bad” and was thought by
some ancients to “live forever.” By focusing on serpent iconography
and symbolism, we come closer to perceiving the editorial work of the
Yahwist and the possible contours of some of his more ancient
sources. We approximate the goal of biblical exegesis in the historical-
critical perspective: to grasp the formation of texts, the ancient
traditions refracted in texts, and to strive for a hermeneutic that is
informed by the original context of texts.

Summary

Serpent symbolism in Genesis 3 has now been studied philologically,

exegetically, contextually, and symbolically. We may thus review the
ten points of the Eden Story that, as stated earlier, are so popular in
Christianity and Judaism (and also, in many ways, the culture of
Islam).215 Each of the ten points is now exposed as false.
First, the serpent is not the Devil or Satan. 216 Neither the Devil nor
Satan is mentioned in the Eden Story; other names for “Satan” also do
not appear in this first great story in the Bible. Yet Jews, especially in
the first century, often intimate that either the serpent was really the
Devil or the Devil used the form of the serpent; even Paul refers to the
way the serpent cunningly deceived Eve (2 Cor 11:3). The early Syriac
exegetes equated the serpent of Genesis 3 with Satan.217
Second, the serpent does not lie. The serpent is also not portrayed
as the Liar. What he predicts if the woman eats of the forbidden fruit
transpires: she does not die immediately, and she becomes like God in
that she knows good and evil.
The snake does not lie, but he does not tell the whole truth. The
humans do become like God in that they know good and evil. But,
most important, they do not become God and have immortality.218 The
author of Genesis 2 and 3, the Yahwist, does not suggest that Adam
was created with immortality. He may imply that the man and the
woman had to eat daily, or at least periodically, from the tree of life,
and that after the expulsion from Eden they could not do that.219 Thus,
the Jew who composed the Wisdom of Solomon erred, as do many
modern exegetes, in ascribing immortality to Adam and death to the
action of the serpent, who is the Devil :
For God created the human to be immortal,
He made him as an image of his own nature;
Death came into the cosmos only through the Devil’s envy,
As those who belong to him find to their cost. [Wis 2:23–24]

Finally, according to the narrator, the humans do not become like God.
They die; there is no implication that God had made the humans either
immortal or eternally youthful.220
It is clear that the Yahwist has not presented the serpent as the
grand antithesis to God. Not only does the serpent not lie, God is
depicted narratively as failing to speak the full truth. This insight
clashes with the affirmation in the Bible that there is only one God and
he is trustworthy and faithful; he is the God of truth (cf. e.g. Pss 19:10,
31:6, Deut 32:4; cf. also Jn 17:17, Tit 1:2, Heb 6:18).221 Yet biblical
theology does not ring with the affirmation that God is always truthful.
 The Nachash, alone among the animals, is presented as able to
speak. If the serpent alone speaks the truth in this Eden Story, and
since in the mind of the Yahwist truth was associated with wisdom and
unthinkable without it, then the serpent is associated not only with truth
but also with wisdom. The stage is set for the later Jewish authors who
see the serpent as a symbol of wisdom (Pos. 18). Not only is that
evident in the Apocalypse of Moses, but it is also attributed to Jesus,
who told his disciples, according to Matthew, to be wise like serpents.
The significant impediment to seeing the Nachash as the “truth-
teller” is the fact that both Adam and Eve died. Their death became a
major theme of the first-century writing called the Vita Adae et Eva.
This author of this work portrays Seth and Eve going to Paradise in
order to obtain “the oil of mercy” (40:1) so Adam, who is sick and
appears dying, could be healed. On the way, Seth is attacked by “a
serpent” (37:1–3), a “cursed beast” (37:3); eventually the angel
Michael informs the two: “Truly I say to you that you are by no means
able to take from it, except in the last days” (42:1).
Two points must be repeated and emphasized. First, God said that
anyone who ate of the forbidden tree would die “on the (that) day;” but
Eve lives to entice Adam, and both live until they are banished from
the garden by God. Second, God tells Adam (and, by the concept of
inclusion, also his wife) that since he heeded his wife and ate of the
forbidden tree he will die. Why does death occur? It is not because
God “curses” the humans and they subsequently die. It is because
they are banished from the garden and cannot eat regularly from the
tree of life, which alone provides continuous life. Thus, the author of
Genesis 3 assumes that the key to living forever is to be in the garden
and periodically to eat the fruit from the tree of life. Perhaps he
assumed, as did all who lived in the early centuries of the first
millennium BCE, that death was a natural part of living, and the end of
it. Thus, God announces to Adam that he will “return to the ground.”
The point is repeated: “For dust you [are], and to dust you will return”
(Gen 3:19). The first human, Adam, returns to the ground, adamah. 222
Third, the serpent is no trickster. He does not beguile the woman.
The narrator does not depict the woman being tricked into doing what
she would never herself think of doing. It is the Rabbis, through
midrashic expansion, who added that the serpent pushed Eve into the
forbidden fruit. The woman was not tricked; the Yahwist suggests that
she willingly participates in the act. Note that after the serpent’s
advice: “The woman saw that the tree [was] good for food, that it was
pleasant to the eyes, and [that] the tree would make [her] wise.” (3:6).
The narrator does not suggest that the serpent caused her—or
bewitched her so as—to see the tree in this manner. As Paul Tillich
claimed, the serpent does not symbolize disintegration but integration
(cf. Pos. 12, “Unity [Oneness]”).223
Fourth, the narrator does not depict the serpent—and the serpent
alone—as fully responsible for all the evils in the world. The serpent
does not force the woman to appreciate the forbidden fruit, take it, and
eat it. The author does not primarily intend to explain the origin of sin
and evil.224 Yet, long before 70 CE, Jews interpreted Genesis 3 as an
explication of the origin of sin. The ancient people of the Book saw no
problem with the two accounts of how evil and sin appeared on this
earth: the serpent and woman in Eden (Gen 3) and the fall of the
angels (Gen 6; cf. esp. 1 En). Probably many Israelites and Jews
imagined that the two accounts could be conflated. Most likely some
early Jews imagined that the “serpent” was originally a fallen angel.
Fifth, the narrator clearly states that the serpent was one of God’s
creatures. As snakes often do in homes near the equator, on hiking
outings, or in forests, the serpent appears suddenly and mysteriously.
There is no introduction. In a moment, the serpent is present in the
narrative. Once present, he acts or speaks. The narrative thus
embodies the symbol of the serpent as being swift and elusive (cf.
Pos. 3). The serpent does not come with the announcing roar of a lion.
It does not arrive with the trumpeting of an elephant, or the pounding
hoofs of a horse. It comes silently and unexpectedly. The serpent’s
ability to symbolize swiftness and elusiveness is reflected in the Eden
Story. One thinks about the metal serpents, which are abundant now
from ancient Palestine. They have numerous curves, and usually the
head is shown upright.
Genesis 3:1 thus introduces the serpent abruptly; there is no
transition from what precedes. The “serpent” had not been mentioned
before; it is suddenly present in the narrative. It is one of God’s
creations, but the reader is not prepared for the appearance of the
serpent and the resulting story. While there are echoes in Genesis 3 of
previous verses, there is no foreshadowing of the serpent by the
Priestly Writer in Genesis 1:1–2:4a, or by the Yahwist in 2:4b-3:1.
Sixth, the Nachash was not depicted as ugly or as a horrible-
looking animal. The Nachash in fact appears without any description.
We may assume he has legs because of God’s curse on him, but we
are not told how the Nachash looks. He must have a mouth and a
larynx since he talks with the woman. We are not told if he has eyes,
as one might assume from the study of ancient Near Eastern serpent
iconography (but there are also images of snakes without eyes). We
do not know if the Nachash has a nose or scales. We do not know how
tall the Nachash is or what he looks like. Perhaps this is intentional,
since what is important are the serpent’s wisdom or cunning and ability
to talk with the woman. Most likely, not only did the Yahwist know that
a full description would detract from the reader’s ability to grasp his
important point, but “serpents” were very familiar in life, image, and
myth to his audience.

Figure 79. Adam and Eve, According to Masolino in the Cappella Brancacci. JHC

Seventh, we may assume the serpent is probably a male, but he

has no sexual approach to the woman. There is no evidence that the
serpent entices the woman, and the assumption that the serpent uses
some erotic powers to entrap her comes out of the misguided
imagination of the modern person. There is no evidence that the
serpent is first and foremost a phallic symbol (Neg. 16 or Pos. 1).
A study of how gifted artists depict Adam,225 the woman, and the
serpent is revealing. Unlike exegetes, artists must decide if the serpent
is male or female, in the tree or beside it, beautiful and appealing or
ugly and disgusting.226 To demonstrate the paradigmatic difference
between artists and exegetes—one would hope that this ceases to be
the rule—only a few select illustrations must suffice. The most riveting
might be Masolino’s painting in the Capella Brancacci in Florence.
Note how feminine and appealing the serpent is depicted in the
painting.227 The serpent is inviting, clean, and intelligent looking. She
and the woman are closely related to the tree and appear as virtual
twins.
The depiction of the serpent as feminine and similar to the woman
is exceptional, but not unique. In 1508, Raphael, when he was about
twenty-five, painted on the walls of Pope Julius II’s study in the Vatican
a serpent that is angelic and cherubic. It is close to “the woman,” and
one is given a sense of tranquility as the friendly serpent winds its way
up the tree. Adam’s right hand and the woman’s left hand are depicted
moving up toward the serpent. Raphael seems to have influenced
Michelangelo, who also presented the serpent with an appealing, even
feminine, face.
Michelangelo thus depicted “the serpent” in Eden as a woman. The
Nachash is similar to “the woman” except that her torso, as in
Masolino’s masterpiece, is a serpent, and it likewise winds around the
tree. In Michelangelo’s art, as in Raphael’s masterpiece, both Adam
and the woman are reaching up toward the serpent.228
Finally, in the Strasbourg Cathedral and in St. Catherine’s Chapel,
which was completed in 1349, there is a depiction of Adam and “Eve”
(at that point in the narrative she is “a woman” and not yet Eve) with a
serpent. The creature also has a feminine face. The crucifixion above
them, based on the Fourth Gospel, is a depiction of Numbers 21.
These artists rightly perceived the attractiveness of the serpent.
None of them, however, knew enough about ancient serpent
iconography to depict the serpent upright, with hands and feet, and
conversing animatedly with the woman. They did, nevertheless, bring
out in their portraits of the Nachash the attractive features of the
human in God’s creation.
These later artistic renderings of the Genesis story must not
influence our reading of Genesis 3. In the Hebrew text, the nachash is
a masculine noun. The verbs associated with him are masculine.
Though the wise creature is often depicted as a female, that should
not be the guiding principle in studying the Nachash in Genesis 3. The
creature seems to be male, both grammatically and conceptually in the
Hebrew Bible. Moreover, images of serpents in ancient Palestine
about the time of the Yahwist depict the serpent as a male (or at least
devoid of feminine features).
Eighth, it should now be obvious that the author of Genesis 3 does
not depict the serpent as beastly. The serpent does not have the
features of an ugly beast. The imagined shape of Satan, especially in
medieval Christianity, must not be imposed on the image of the
serpent in Genesis 3. The woman speaks with the creature; that
should indicate that she is not afraid of the animal nor finds it
repulsive.
Ninth, can one really be certain that, before the serpent spoke with
“Eve” (she is not named until 3:20), all was peaceful in Eden? It seems
too imaginative and romantic to surmise that in Eden the male and
female walked with God, together, in the cool of the evening. How
much harmony was there, at the beginning, in creation? Did not the
Creator’s prohibition of Adam to eat from the fruit of the tree in the
middle of the garden cause some tension? If Adam was human, was
he not tempted by the Creator’s prohibition? Since the human was
bereft of knowledge and the forbidden fruit was not on a tree on the
edges—but in the center—of Eden, did God not make it virtually
impossible for the human to obey the commandment? Was Adam not
like Paul who found that prohibitions became temptations (Rom 7–8)?
How peaceful and idyllic was Eden? What kind of an Eden can be
bereft of knowledge? In apocalypticism, we might imagine that the
Jewish author sought at the End-time a return to the First-time. This
repeated cliché derives from Gunkel’s claim that the Endzeit wird
Urzeit, “the Endtime shall be (a return to) the Firstime.” However, there
are major differences: there is no commandment, and there is no
foreboding future of disobedience with another disastrous distance
between the human and others, nature, and the Creator. Moreover, if
the first Eden depicts a human without any knowledge or experience of
good and evil, the final Eden imagined by Jewish apocalyptic writers
results from the human’s experience of good and especially evil. There
cannot be a return to a dialogue with a Nachash since God’s curse on
him was irreversible, as the Jewish sages knew and stressed.
Tenth, no one should imagine that the serpent alone is responsible
for the entrance of sin into creation, the appearance of death, and the
cause of punishment and ultimately of banishment. The one who
compiled the story in Genesis 3 shared the blame with all—the
woman, the man, and the serpent. That is why all three were punished
by God. The narrator would have been surprised that he allowed for
some blame to reside even with God, not only in the statement that the
serpent was created by God, but also in God’s prohibition to eat from
the fruit of one tree. Thus, the Yahwist avoids an error that sometimes
appears in apocalypticism: the infinite separation of the created from
the Creator. God was also included in the drama; after all, if God had
not provided a prohibition, there would have been no possibility of
disobedience.
Thus, by focusing on the symbol of the serpent in Genesis 3, we
become sensitive to contradictions in Christian theology and the age-
old misinterpretations of the story of Eden. God is the creator of all,
even the Nachash—a beast of the field who becomes the serpent. If
the definition of truth is what God states, then God spoke the truth in
Eden. If, however, truth is defined by relationships, then what
happened is not what God predicted: the humans do not drop dead
immediately; they obtain knowledge of (and experience) good and evil.
Perhaps the Yahwist attempted to bring God into the world of humans
and to make God one with whom humans could have a covenant
relationship. The Yahwist put human qualities on God. He portrayed
God as apparently lying and not knowing what would happen when the
woman, or anyone, ate from the forbidden fruit. According to the Eden
Story, God also seems to have lost touch with the human, calling out
to Adam: “Where [are] you?” (Gen 3:9).
It is not correct to claim that God did not make demands on the first
humans (the protoplasts). The Yahwist pointed out that the Creator
always comes to us as one who makes demands. According to the
narrative, the Creator seems also responsible for the so-called Fall.
The story binds the Creator to his creatures. The story is complex,
somewhat inconsistent, but its main point comes home: sin (and evil)
is disobeying God. According to the Yahwist’s composition, God is not
distant and categorically above human aspirations, like telling the truth
and being consistent. Yet, in mysterious ways, God and the serpent
represent another dimension of reality.
The Yahwist shows an inordinate amount of interest in and
fascination with the serpent. The Nachash once spoke clearly and
wisely, and he presumably walked. Now the snake has no eyelids to
protect it from the sun or dirt. It no longer can speak or hear (it has no
ears [the one who gave us Ps 58:5(4) seems to err and assume a
snake can hear]). It now must crawl on its belly and be fearful of any
relation with the human, who may crush it. According to the Midrash
on the Psalms (Midrash Tehillim), which probably reached its present
shape in the ninth century CE, there is a deep meaning in Psalms
58:5–6. Note this exegesis attributed to David, who composed the
Psalms, according to ancient traditions: “David said further to them:
Know ye not what the Holy One, blessed be He, did to the serpent [
 ]? He destroyed his feet [ ] and his teeth so that the serpent now
eats dust.”229 According to this same text, if the snake still had feet: “It
could overtake a horse in full stride and kill him.”
How does one explain the observations that God has cursed the
serpent to eat dust forever and snakes do not eat dust? The Rabbis
knew and observed that snakes drank milk and ate food left for them,
but the power of Genesis 3:14 is significant. The compilers of the
Babylonian Talmud preserved the tradition that although a snake can
eat “the delicacies of the world [ ],” it will only have “the taste of
dust [ )]” (b. Yoma 75a).
Ironically, the serpent—the quintessential and pervasive symbol of
immortal life, especially in antiquity (Pos. 27)—becomes in the Bible
the one who symbolizes the humans’ loss of immortality. The author or
compiler of the account in Genesis 3 knew some of the Near Eastern
myths and legends, such as the Gilgamesh story.
The Yahwist seems obsessed with etiological issues when he
compiled the Eden Story. He wanted to explain the following:

Why a woman and a man are so similar, in contrast to the animals

(“she was taken from a man” [2:23])
Why a man leaves his parents and clings to his wife (2:24)230
Why there was no shame about nakedness at the beginning
(2:25, 3:7, 10)
Why the serpent seems isolated and is often a loner (3:14)
Why the serpent must crawl on its belly (3:24)
Why there is enmity among serpents and humans (3:24)
Why women have such pain in giving birth (3:15)
Why women are passionate about their husbands (3:16)
Why women must have their husbands as a master (3:16)
Why men must till the soil sometimes fruitlessly (3:17)
Why humans return to dust (3:19)
Why the humans were banished from Eden and cannot return
there (3:22–24)
Why the paradisiacal life was once experienced but now lost
(3:22–24)

The Eden Story is centered on etiological concerns, more so than

any other biblical story. In so casting the story, the Yahwist miscasts
not only the serpent but also God. For example, God is the cause of a
woman’s birth pangs and man’s often-fruitless labor. God is
responsible for the earth’s lack of fruitfulness. God is responsible for
the “enmity” on the earth. Yet God is not omnipotent; God fears his
creations and expresses the fear that they might “become like one of
us” (3:22). God does not want the human to live forever. As Gunkel
saw: “The narrative [Erzählung] does not report that Yahweh knows all,
sees all; but much more, that he likes to saunter in the garden, by
chance to discover a violation. An (absolute) all-knowing Yahweh is
thereby not presented.”231
In the Eden Story, the Yahwist explains too much. He explains why
men have to work so hard for sustenance and why women suffer so in
childbirth. He also explains the origin of the fear that defines the
human-snake relationship, and why the serpent crawls on its belly (a
description that brings to mind the ways the serpent symbolizes the
earth and the chthonic world [Pos. 15]).
What did the Nachash do to deserve such long-lasting
punishment?232 In some ways, the Yahwist leaves the impression, to
those who indwell the story (i.e., those who so imagine the story that
they become part of it), that the serpent comes off as more attractive
than God Yahweh. In so doing, he reflects the pervasive depictions of
the serpent as a good symbol in his time, but perhaps not in his
theology in Jerusalem at that time. Some of the tension in his story of
Eden derives from the tension between Israelite and Canaanite
culture. Much of this tension may be caused by serpent symbology, a
too multivalent symbolism. We have seen, inter alia, that it is
misleading to conclude that, in Genesis 3, the “mention of the snake
here is almost incidental.”233 This opinion of G. von Rad misled
Westermann (p. 238), who then goes on and perceives that the
“masterly dialogue holds the center of the scene.” Who are the main
actors? Westermann rightly answers: “The serpent and the woman are
the sole actors.”234
In the narrative of Genesis 3, the Nachash appears suddenly and
mysteriously. He is defined as one of the beasts of the field created by
God Yah-weh, except he is distinguished by his cleverness or wise
character (Gen 3:1). He is the first interlocutor to speak and asks a
question (3:1). Then, he launches out with a declaration that discloses
unusual knowledge of what will, and does, happen after the woman
eats of the forbidden fruit (Gen 3:4–4). The Nachash reveals that he
knows what “God knows” (Gen 3:5). The Nachash does not push,
force, or even suggest that the woman eat of the forbidden fruit, but
the Nachash does play a major role. He provides the stimulus that is
essential for the initiative of the human. The Yahwist eventually
discloses—through the woman’s defense—that the serpent is one who
“deceived” the woman (Gen 3:13). Then God Yahweh curses the
serpent, condemns him to henceforth crawl on the earth and to eat
dust; the serpent is not condemned to death (to dust), however, and is
not expelled from the Garden of Eden.235 The serpent is the source of
enmity (Gen 3:15). In this narrative, we see refracted ancient myths
and serpent symbology: the serpent represents knowledge,
cleverness, and wisdom (Pos. 18), but also power (Pos. 3) and some
divinity (Pos. 11), and seems to possess continuous or immortal life
(Pos. 27). The symbolic meanings of the ancient Ouroboros,
caduceus, and uraeus may be seen to cast shadows on the Eden
Story. In summation, the Nachash remains in the shadows and is
never clearly described; he remains, as it were, a mysterious character
(Pos. 17). He is not so much presented incognito, as God’s creature
who elicits fascinating attention. Such is the nature of the snake in real
life.
Most important, we have perceived the marvelous literary skills of
the Yahwist. He is a master in developing the characters of his
dramatis personae. The Nachash is a beast of the field, according to
Genesis 3:1. He becomes a serpent who crawls, according to Genesis
3:14. The “woman” is presented in Genesis 3:1, but she becomes
“Eve” only in Genesis 3:20. The Nachash does not tempt “Eve;” he
asks her a question. Thus, there are three errors in the oft-repeated
claim that “the serpent” talked to “Eve” and he “tempted” her.

THE UPRAISED SERPENT OF MOSES: NUMBERS 21:4–9

Initial Observations

It is necessary to study Numbers 21:4–9 and then 2 Kings 18:4 in

conjunction with it. The first passage is a narrative about the serpent
Moses made in the wilderness; the second one refers to the worship of
a serpent called Nechushtan in the Temple and Hezekiah’s
banishment of this serpent cult from the Temple, Jerusalem, and the
Land. Both passages refer to a similar phenomenon—the upraised
serpent. Commentators on Numbers find it necessary to include 2
Kings 18:4 in their search for the meaning of Numbers 21:4–9, and
commentators on 2 Kings 18:4 must include some evaluation of the
meaning of Numbers 21:4–9.
 One of the well-known features of the narrative of the Hebrews
wandering in the wilderness, after the Exodus, is their grumbling about
their present condition. Their final complaint occurs after the death of
Aaron and before the blessing of Balaam. The people’s complaint over
the bread and water was egregious; it was not primarily a yearning for
the comforts of Egypt, albeit in slavery. This lament was an open
defiance of Yahweh and his chosen one, Moses (contra Deum et
Mosen 21:5).236 They had forgotten the wonders performed by God,
sometimes through Moses, as when he was able to turn his staff into a
serpent.237

Text and Translation

Here is the translation of Numbers 21:4–9 in J. Milgrom’s masterful

commentary on Numbers:
They set out from Mount Hor by way of the Sea of Reeds to skirt the land of Edom. But the
people grew restive on the journey, and the people spoke against God and against Moses,
“Why did you make us leave Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread and no water,
and we have come to loathe this miserable food.” The LORD sent seraph against the people.
They bit the people and many of the Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We
sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you. Intercede with the LORD to take away
the serpents from us!” And Moses interceded for the people. Then the LORD said to Moses,
“Make a seraph figure and mount it on a standard. And if anyone who is bitten looks at it, he
shall recover.” Moses made a copper serpent and mounted it on a standard; and when anyone
was bitten by a serpent, he would look at the copper serpent and recover.238

In Hebrew, the “the seraph” ( ) are literally “the fiery

serpents.” In Hebrew, “the serpents” is the collective meaning of the
singular “the serpent” ( ). The Lord commanded Moses to make “a
seraph figure,” which is “burning serpent” (IIW; see Appendix I).

Questions

The questions regarding serpent imagery and symbolism that are

raised by Numbers 21:4–9 and that we shall address are the following:

1. What is meant by seraph; that is, what kind of a snake does the
author have in mind?
2. When the poisonous snakes bite the people, why do not all die?
3. Why does the Lord command Moses to make a seraph and place
it on a standard?
4. What did the copper serpent look like or resemble?
5. What symbolic meaning would be conveyed by a metal serpent on
 a standard?
6. Does the Lord’s command not break the commandment that the
human must not make any image?
7. Why are those who look up to the copper serpent healed?
8. How does the study of ophidian iconography in Near Eastern
culture, and especially in ancient Palestine, help us understand
this passage in Numbers?
9. Our central question is “What does ‘the serpent’ symbolize in
Numbers 21:4–9?”

In the endeavor to answer these questions, we should read not only

the Hebrew text but also heed the Septuagint’s translation of the
Hebrew. For example, the word to denote the “standard” ( ) which
Moses placed the copper serpent has unusual symbolic power. The
Greek means “upon a symbol-stake” ( [21:8, 9]) and the
239
emphasis is on “sign.” The selfsame Greek noun, semeion, was
chosen by the author of the Gospel of John to represent the “miracles”
of Jesus as “miraculous signs.” This observation seems important; we
will conclude by exploring to what extent the Fourth Evangelist was
influenced by Numbers 21.

Scholars’ Reflections

Scholars’ work on Numbers 21 is more informed by serpent

iconography and symbology than we have seen in Genesis 3. Their
attention to the serpent in Numbers 21 and 2 Kings 18 is not so
distorted by misleading exegesis and interpretation. Most
commentators know the importance of serpent imagery for the authors
of these sections of the Hebrew Bible. Hence, our examination will not
need to be so extensive or corrective.
While it is not certain whether Numbers 21:4–9 belongs to the
Yahwist or the Elohist,240 it seems likely that the narrative is the work
of the Elohist who has inherited a considerable amount of diverse
earlier traditions.241 The narrative in Numbers 21:4–9 thus may well be
a composite work by a northern Israelite writer (the Elohist) who was
indebted to and incorporated (perhaps earlier) Judean sources
(perhaps ultimately from the Yah-wist). While the earliest source may
go back to the ninth century (or even earlier), the present narrative
reached its present form sometime about the seventh century BCE and
in Judah.242 More than one tradition in the account is evident, notably
in the mixing of singular and plural verbs (cf. vv. 6 and 7), and the
confusion of one (v. 9) or many serpents (vv. 6, 8).243
Both the author of Numbers 21:4–9 and the author of 2 Kings 18:4
attribute to Moses the making of a serpent of copper (or bronze).244 Do
these passages reflect some historical event or are they mere
fabricated leg-end?245 There seem to be three possible explanations
to ponder.
1. The first possible explanation is that the account in Numbers
21:4–9 is legend without any historical reliability. There are problems
with taking Numbers 21 as strictly historical. As G. B. Gray stated, the
story of Moses’ making a copper (or bronze) serpent contains neither
an adequate explanation of the choice of this particular form of
miracle, nor any clarification of how the Israelite nomads on the march
were in a position to manufacture, with the speed which the
circumstances demanded, so important a work in metal.246
The historicity of the Pentateuchal narrative depends on authors
who wrote hundreds of years after the events they describe and relate.
That is, Moses would have made a copper serpent sometime in the
thirteenth century BCE, but the account would have not been written
until the tenth century BCE and most likely much later. The transmission
of oral traditions during these centuries was altered by nonhistorical
interests, such as the movement from nomadic to urban settings and
the continuing influence of myths and ideas that developed from
Moses to David, and most likely later. The author (or editor) who gave
us Numbers 21:4–9 was not seeking to be an objective historian; he
was interested in reporting how the Lord heard the cries of the
Israelites and provided a means so that those bitten could, through
faith, look up to the copper serpent made by Moses, “and (continue) to
live” ( ; Num 21:8, 9). The motives for writing the account, therefore,
were to provide comfort for Israelites who were suffering from snakes,
and to celebrate Yahweh, who brings healing and life.
These comments are generally acknowledged by the experts, but
such arguments leave open the possibility that there may be reliable
historical traditions linking Hezekiah’s time with Moses’ time. One
should observe that to choose between legend and history is to
categorize ancient texts, such as Numbers 21, within false
alternatives. History may be transmitted in myths, legends, and
liturgies.
2. The second possibility is that the narrative in Numbers 21:4–9 is
grounded in history. The story is not only about the upraised serpent; it
depicts the plague of serpents (die Schlangenplage) and the upraised
serpent. Moses made a copper serpent that was not regarded as an
idol, but later in the Temple in Jerusalem it may have been treated in
this fashion.
Some scholars conjecture that Moses most likely did make a
serpent and placed it on a pole. They point out that, after all, as
previously discussed, a copper serpent—with cultic significance—has
been found at Timna’, which was a copper-mining region in the Arabah
just north of the Red Sea, and it is roughly contemporaneous with the
action attributed to Moses (see Fig. 22). A study of this copper snake
idol with gilded head, not a photograph, awakens in one the feeling
that it is alive and moving. The seven curves may also be more than
ornamental. The clear eyes, which are prominent as in almost all
serpent images, awaken in the observer thoughts about intelligence
and wisdom. Clearly, the metal serpent was crafted to signify many
symbolic meanings; all would be positive since it is an idol and found
in a cultic setting. One should not overlook the fact that the serpent is
made with imperishable material; it has lasted in perfect condition
since the twelfth century BCE. The material itself thus has symbolic
power.247
According to some experts, this archaeological fact adds historical
credence to the story in Numbers 21. There is much wisdom in
Milgrom’s comment that the copper snake found at Timna’ supplies
iconographical and archaeological evidence that lends credence to the
story in Numbers 21. He judges that since the copper snake of Timna’
dates approximately from “the same time and place that Moses
fashioned a similar snake,” this suggests “that the snake story was
inserted into the itinerary precisely when Israel was in the vicinity of
the Timna’ copper mines. This thesis is further supported by textual
evidence of a break in the next stage of the itinerary.”248
According to tradition, Aaron’s rod (Num 17:25) and the receptacle
of manna (Exod 16:34) survived from Moses’ day. They may have
been visible on occasion in Solomon’s Temple. Some scholars
contend that Moses’ copper serpent was also on public display in the
Temple. Note the insight shared by Milgrom, that while the meal
offering

was sacrificed on the altar, the officer would stare at the snake, hoping to repeat the Mosaic
miracle of healing. Thus the sacrifice could in effect have been offered to the snake rather than
to Israel’s God. Moreover, since the Canaanites regarded the snake as a cultic symbol of
renewed life and fertility, it may have become over time a bridge to pagan worship within the
Temple itself.249

Milgrom’s judgment is undergirded by the vast amount of ophidian

imagery we have from about 1300 to 700 BCE and not later, as we
have presented selectively in the previous chapter. It is also likely that
a serpent placed in the Temple could be a way to combat idolatry by
absorbing its meanings and powers within the cult of Yahweh.
3. The third possible explanation is that, in the seventh century BCE,
the author of Numbers 21:4–9 inherited and developed a story that
had evolved to explain the origin and power of serpent symbolism and
the worship of the serpent in the Temple during the time of
Hezekiah.250 As long ago as the beginning of the twentieth century,
scholars saw major difficulties with Numbers 21:4–9. For example, H.
Holzinger interpreted Numbers 21:4–9 to be a cult legend (“eine
künstliche Legende”) that provided legitimacy to the cult of the serpent
in the Temple, but did not embody a “Jahwe-idol.”251 Thus, we are left
with a possible explanation for the composition of Numbers 21: the
story of Moses’ making a metal serpent in the wilderness is an
etiological legend that explains and gives legitimacy to the appearance
of Nechushtan and its cult in the Temple.252 In the words of Gray: “The
responsibility of Moses for the making of the bronze serpent is
probably merely traditional, this indicating the antiquity of this cult-
symbol in Jerusalem. The story of its role as a prophylactic against
serpents in Num. 21.6–9 (E) is an aetiological myth.”253
Many scholars, like B. Baentsch, see the account in Numbers 21 to
be linked with the worship of a serpent mentioned in 2 Kings. Thus,
Numbers 21 is a cult legend (Kultussage) that was composed to add
legitimacy to the Nechushtan in the Temple. The author sought to trace
back to Moses the Nechushtan, and to legitimate the worship of a
serpent in the Temple.254 It is conceivable that the cult of Hezekiah’s
time originated prior to David within local lore and worship; perhaps
the image had originally been Canaanite or Jebusite.255
Is it possible that Numbers 21:4–9 reflects an attempt to legitimize
the worship of a serpent in the Temple? Yes, it is possible that some
traditions in this section of Numbers antedate Hezekiah’s reform.
Before this king, Israelite worship was varied and not clearly centered
only in Jerusalem. At the beginning of Hezekiah’s reign, it apparently
was not unusual or inconsistent to worship Yahweh as the only God
and to acknowledge how he heals his people through the symbol of
the serpent (Pos. 23). The raised serpent in the Temple—at least prior
to Hezekiah’s time—was not seen, by at least some Israelites, as
inimical to Yahwism. M. Noth disagreed with the scholars who saw that
Numbers 21:4–9 was an etiology, but he did point out that the story in
Numbers was composed because there was a metal serpent in the
Temple.256
It is clear, regardless of how one chooses among these previous
three possibilities, that according to the author of Numbers 21:4–9,
Moses’ intention was not to establish a serpent cult, but to use the
symbol of a serpent to heal those who had been bitten by a poisonous
snake (Pos. 23). The Hebrews therefore were aware of the connection
between the serpent and healing, which was well known in ancient
Palestine from the serpent cult at Beth Shan in the middle of the
second millennium BCE to the Asclepian cult in Jerusalem in the
Roman Period. And we can continue such a rapid survey to the
present, since the Bedouin believe that jinn, the desert demons, are
like serpents and they congregate around healing waters.

Serpent Symbology and Exegesis

The author of Numbers 21:4–9 constructs a wordplay, nehas nehdset,

“a serpent of bronze;” this symbol is represented by Nechushtan,
which is another paronomasia on “serpent” and “copper.”257 As D. T.
Olson states: “[The] serpent was a symbol of evil power and chaos
from the underworld as well as a symbol of fertility, life, and
healing.”258 In Numbers 21 and 2 Kings 18, the serpent symbolized,
most likely, power (Pos. 3), life (Pos. 20), healing (Pos. 23), and even
rejuvenation (Pos. 26). All of these human ideals were possible
because of the intervention of Yahweh in the lives of the people, Israel.
That is, serpent symbology was subsumed under Yahwistic theology.
The author of Numbers 21:4–9 may have sought to emphasize that
the serpent cult in the Temple was within Yahwism, and that it
absorbed all the competing serpent deities and cults, such as those at
Hazor and especially at Beth Shan. If this is an accurate assessment,
then the Elohist sought to legitimize the serpent cult in the Temple. He
anchored the cult traditionally by making it part of God’s saving action
for his people during the time of Moses and in the wilderness, which
was not the time or place of punishment but the time and place of
preparation. We may now answer, seriatim, the questions raised by
reading Numbers 21:4–9.
 1. Our first question was “What is meant by seraph; that is, what
kind of a snake did the author have in mind?” We can only guess.259
As with the Yahwist in Genesis 3, the Elohist in Numbers 21:4–9 does
not provide a detailed description of the snakes that bite the Israelites.
The Hebrew noun seraph, “a burning one [or fiery serpent],” is
synonymous with nachash, “serpent,” in Numbers 21. Seraph denotes
a serpent that burns; the noun signifies that the serpent kills by burning
poison.260 What kind of a snake could have been meant? The author
uses this noun to signify a poisonous snake whose bite “burns.”261 The
Greek of the Septuagint offers “deadly serpents”
;262 and the Aramaic in Targum Onkelos signifies “burning or fiery
serpents” .263 The Elohist clarifies only that the snakes are “fiery
serpents” that are killing people; hence, they may have been any type
of poisonous snake known in the lower Negev whose bite causes a
fiery sensation. The viper palestinensis seems rather likely. Since the
author depicts the Israelites leaving Egypt, he may have imagined that
the “fiery serpents” were Egyptian asps.
Other possibilities are conceivable, including horned vipers,
puffadders, and cobras;264 in fact, these snakes were mentioned by T.
E. Lawrence when he described an abundance of snakes that plagued
him in Wadi Sirhan east of the Dead Sea.265 Numbers 21:5–7 may
represent an imagined retelling of an actual event, since Esarhaddon,
in his Annals, refers to serpents on the ground as numerous as
grasshoppers, and Alexander the Great, according to Strabo (15.2.7),
lost many soldiers from snakebites.
Whether the account is basically historical or imagined on the basis
of known experiences, we might err in assuming only one type of
deadly snake was represented by seraph; that may be the reason the
Elohist added that seraph was synonymous with nachash.
2. Our second question was “When the poisonous snakes bite the
people, why do not all die?” Again, the Elohist has not provided an
answer. It was not something that concerned him. The narrator first
makes it clear that some “people” had died because of the food, lack
of water, and hard ships of the journey from Egypt. The point the
Elohist makes is that “many of the people of Israel died” (Num 21:6).
The author does not say that every person was bitten. Those who lived
after being bitten may have been considered people who had not,
finally, been disobedient in murmuring against Moses and God.
Perhaps some were thus assumed to have murmured only against
Moses.
It is possible that one can be bitten by a poisonous snake and not
die. As with Paul in Acts 28:4–6, sometimes it is assumed by those
nearby that a person has been bitten when in fact the individual was
not. We have pointed out that a poisonous snake can regulate the
amount of poison administered, and that when a person is not
threatening to an aroused snake, only a small portion of poison is
injected. The snake saves venom to kill other animals, so that it can
eat and survive.
3. Our third question was “Why does the Lord command Moses to
make a seraph and place it on a standard?” God’s instructions to
Moses immediately follow Moses’ prayer. He prayed to God on behalf
of God’s people (Num 21:7). The murmuring against God is the first
significant unfaithful action of the Israelites; now, they direct their
complaints directly against God. Paul referred the Pharisee to
Numbers 21:4–9 and stressed that this account revealed how people
“tempted” God (1 Cor 10:9). This action is so exceptional and
unthinkable that both the Targumists and the Greek translator change
the meaning of the Hebrew to minimize the full force of the original
text.
In the Hebrew, the preposition placed before “God” and Moses is
the same: b (1; see Num 21:5, 7), so the people “spoke against God
and against Moses.” The Greek translation, like some Targumim, has
two different prepositions: “The people spoke to God and against
Moses.” This translation misrepresents the Hebrew, and the Greek
may be an attempt to remove the theologically unattractive point that
the people of Israel directed attacks against God. I do not think it is
wise to conclude that the Greek states basically the same thing as the
Hebrew, and the difference can be explained by pointing out that the
Greek language has far more prepositions than Hebrew.266
The translators of the Targumim are most likely offended by
Numbers 21:5. In a narrative about how Israel was saved from Egypt
by God, it seems unacceptable that a narrator would report that God’s
people would turn on their only benefactor. How did the Aramaic
translators avoid such unthinkable actions? The translator in Targum
Onkelos employed the customary circumlocution: “The people
grumbled against the Memra of the Lord ( [A K]),267 and
contended with Moses.”268 The translator of Targum Neofiti devised
the following: “And the people spoke against the Memra of the Lord
 269 and murmured against Moses.”270 The expansive translator
of Targum Pseudo-Jonathan imagined that the Hebrew meant: “Then
the people complained in their hearts and talked against the Lord’s
Memra, and they quarreled with Moses.”271 In every case, the
circumlocution seems an example of typical Targumic usage, yet it
does appear that the Aramaic translators are trying to tone down the
people’s quarreling against Yahweh. This exegesis seems valid since,
while the Hebrew text uses one verb (“the people spoke against God
and Moses”), the Targu-mists use different verbs for talking against
God and quarreling with Moses.
This is the first time in the history of salvation, according to the
Bible, that God will not do everything for his chosen people. Now, God
requires some participation in the process of salvation. The Lord
demands more than that one who is bitten merely look up at the
serpent. The Elohist does not say it explicitly, but he assumes
something more than looking up at the copper serpent is required.
Surely, looking up entails obedience; that is, by looking up, “the people
of Israel” were obeying God. God demands some obedience; hence,
there is a theological and ideological link between Genesis 3 and
Numbers 21. According to Genesis, the humans disobeyed God
Yahweh and died; according to Numbers, those people who looked up
obeyed God and obtained life (Num 21:9).
Thus, the individual Israelite must participate in his or her healing
(or salvation); Moses must become involved in a unique way. He must
make the copper serpent and place it on a standard. From henceforth,
as the story of God and his people unfolds in the Bible, emphasis
almost always will be placed on individual responsibility and on some
personal response in the process of being helped or saved by God. As
K. Sakenfeld states, God provides the means of healing: “Yet some
level of personal human believing and initiative is required for its
efficacy.”272
4. Our fourth question was “What did the copper serpent look like
or resemble?” The Elohist states only that Moses made some type of
metal serpent; he does not tell us how Moses made it. G. Garbini
argues that Moses’ historicity is confirmed because his portrayal in the
pre-Deuteronomic sources is different from the “canonical Moses.”
According to Garbini, these earlier sources portray Moses as from
Egypt and as a craftsman who made a bronze snake.273
It is likely that Moses made not a bronze serpent, as in many
translations of Numbers 21, but “a copper serpent.” The Hebrew
denotes either a bronze or a copper serpent; the latter is more
likely, since a gilded copper serpent was found in a cultic shrine at
Timna’, which dates from the second millennium BCE; that is, roughly,
1550–1200 BCE, which is near the time imagined by the Elohist when
Moses made the copper serpent (see Fig. 22).
Our question entailed what this metal serpent looked like. The
Elohist does not provide a clue that would help us imagine the copper
serpent. One might suggest that it may have been like the uraeus, and
it is conceivable that it had wings.274 On Tutankhamen’s throne were
placed prominently winged serpents. The seraphim of Isaiah 6 most
likely had not only wings but feet (see Appendix I). According to Isaiah
14:29 and 30:6, the seraph was a flying serpent ;275
throughout the Middle East we find images of flying and winged
serpents. Often these are made of stone and are amulets worn around
the neck to protect against snakebite (cf. the Ugaritic snake texts
mentioned previously).
5. Our fifth question was “What symbolic meaning would be
conveyed by a metal serpent on a standard?” For Philo, while the
serpent who tempted Eve represented pleasure,276 the copper serpent
Moses raised in the wilderness symbolized endurance (Kaptepia)
since metal indicated firm stability (see Leg. 2.20 and Agr. 22; also see
m. Rosh Hash. 3.8). Because metal signifies endurance, the
symbolism of a copper serpent would make many think of the
creature’s power (Pos. 3) and divinity (Pos. 11). Most significant, it
would be the symbolic power of the serpent to represent youthfulness
and rejuvenation (Pos. 26) and not to disintegrate through sickness,
old age, and death.
Since weapons were made of metal, the copper serpent might elicit
the serpent’s ability to symbolize protection (Pos. 6). Clearly, the
narrator specifies that the copper serpent primarily symbolized the
healing of those who had been bitten, so the upraised copper serpent
was fundamentally a symbol of healing (Pos. 23), health, and life (Pos.
20).
6. Our sixth question was “Does the Lord’s command not break the
commandment that the human must not make any image?” The Ten
Commandments were for the human, not for God. The Creator is
above any commandment, so God may instruct Moses to make an
image and, in so doing, Moses would be obeying God, which
supersedes all commandments. Neither God nor Moses should be
imagined breaking the second commandment, which forbade the
making of any image and worshipping it (Ex 20:1–17 and Deut 5:6–
21): “You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness
[of anything] that [is] in the heaven above, or that [is] on the earth
beneath, or that [is] in the water under the earth. You shall not bow
down to them, and you must not serve them” (Ex 20:4).277 The Elohist
never intimated that the Israelites were to worship the copper serpent
lifted up on the pole.
One should not imagine that Moses disobeyed the Lord because
the Lord told him to make a “burning serpent” and he constructed “a
copper serpent.” The different Hebrew nouns were most likely
employed for literary variety, not conceptual distinction. When read
aloud with dramatic intensity, this passage in Numbers is
onomatopoeic; one can hear the hissing of serpents when the Hebrew
is read with precision and elocution.
The ambivalence of religious symbols can be disconcerting. The
context or the narrative is essential for careful and informed exegesis.
For example, the golden calf and the copper serpent are both images
of animals manufactured from metal, and both were revered in Israelite
shrines, Bethel and Jerusalem, respectively, according to the ancient
texts.278 One brings condemnation and death; the other, acceptance
and life.279 Here texts and narrative force help to explain the meaning
of the symbols as used by the respective authors. The difference in the
two accounts is the one important aspect of any biblical narrative: the
will of God. The golden calf was fashioned against God’s will, the
copper serpent by the command of God. Yet, later, Hosea polemicized
against the golden calf and Heze-kiah smashed the copper serpent.
7. Our seventh question was “Why are those who look up to the
copper serpent healed?” Due to God’s instructions to Moses, which
were fully completed, those bitten could, through faith, look up to the
copper serpent made by Moses, and continue to “live” ( ; Num 21:8,
9).280
We must avoid merely transferring what we know about serpent
symbolism to Numbers 21. For example, in this passage we have
people dying and a serpent used with great symbolic power. It would
be methodologically imprecise, however, to suggest that because
Cadmus and Harmo-nia were transformed into snakes and the
departed kings and queens of Thebes were probably perceived to
have transmigrated into serpents,281 that the deceased were in any
way identified with the copper serpent.
In the ancient Near East, as in many parts of the world today, the
cause of the problem is at the same time its solution. Thus,
homoeopathic, or sympathetic, magic is being employed. The seraph
is confronted by the seraph. Thus, we have a type of the caduceus,
which we have traced back into the centuries before the second
millennium BCE. The caduceus is pervasive today on the walls of
medical colleges (even in Amman and in Jerusalem), on the signia of
the medical corps of some countries, and most conspicuously on
prescriptions. In antiquity, as today, some medicines come directly
from the venom of serpents.
The Elohist makes it clear, however, that the serpent is not the
source of healing. One bitten is healed by his action of looking to the
upraised serpent on the pole, and believing that God, the source of all
healing, will make good on the promise to heal those who look up to
the symbol of life (Pos. 20) and healing (Pos. 23). According to the
compiler of m. Rosh Hash. 3:8, the copper serpent did not heal; it
reminded the Israelites to serve God. This passage in the Mishnah,
and the section of the Wisdom of Solomon (see the following), reveal
an interpretation of Numbers 21 that is important as we continue to
move toward a search for the symbolic meaning of John 3:14.
8. Our eighth question was “How does the study of ophidian
iconography in Near Eastern culture, and especially in ancient
Palestine, help us understand this passage in Numbers?” We can
answer this question after we look again at the Targumim. The later,
early medieval Aramaic translations and sermonic expansions of the
Hebrew texts of Numbers 21:4–9 are revealing. On the one hand, the
Targumim often reflect centuries of oral evolution of thought and also a
concern with the contemporary conditions of Jews. On the other hand,
especially with regard to the Targumic version of Numbers 21:4–9,
they preserve oral traditions that often extend into the period before
the first century CE. It would be foolish indeed to claim that the
narrative expansion of Moses’ upraised serpent in the Targumim
appears for the first time in the Middle Ages. It does not reflect or
serve the needs of the Jewish community, and it preserves serpent
symbolism that antedates the first century CE by at least a millennium.
Note how the translator of Targum Neofiti emphasizes the
difference between the two serpents of Numbers 21. One serpent “was
cursed from the beginning;” the other serpent “will come and rule over
the people which have murmured concerning their food.” The
expansive midrash in Targum Neofiti after verse five is indicative of the
continuing importance of serpent symbolism:

The Bath Qol came forth from the earth and its voice was heard on high: “Come, see, all you
creatures; and come, give ear, all you sons of the flesh: the serpent was cursed from the
beginning and I said to it: ‘Dust shall be your food.’ I brought my people up from the land of
Egypt and I had manna come down from heaven, and I made a well come up for them from
the abyss, and I carried quail from the sea for them; and my people has turned to murmur
before me concerning the manna, that its nourishment is little. The serpent which does not
murmur concerning its food will come and rule over the people which has murmured
concerning their food.”282

This is a remarkable sermonic expansion of Numbers 21.283 The

Targu-mist has taken the upraised serpent in the Hebrew text and
elevated it so that it “will come and rule over the people.” This
interpretation, which may antedate the first century CE, brings out the
symbolic meaning of the serpent, as previously interpreted. The
serpent represents judgment, divinity (Pos. 11), power (Pos. 3), and
divine kingship (or, at least the right to rule [Pos. 10]).
We need to pause and contemplate the positive meaning given to
the serpent in this exceptional passage in Targum Neofiti. Like the
Egyptian uraeus, the serpent here is a symbol of divine kingship (Pos.
10), eternal power (Pos. 3), and healing (Pos. 23). McNamara rightly
sees the handiwork of the Targumist.284 In Neofiti, the texts of Genesis
3 and Numbers 21 are combined. The people in Numbers 21 murmur
against God, although he has blessed them: bringing them out of
Egypt from slavery, creating a well of water for drink, and providing
manna and quail for food. The serpent who was cursed by God in
Genesis 3 does not complain about his food: dust. He obediently
accepts God’s condemnation; hence, God rewards and elevates the
serpent so that he will rule over God’s people.
The juxtaposition of two serpents is remarkable: “The serpent who
was cursed from the beginning” and “the serpent who
will come … and rule over the people” . Of these two
serpents, the more outstanding symbolically is the latter. The cursed
serpent of Genesis 3 will be the ruler of God’s people because he did
not question or dare to dispute God’s divine authority and curse. It is
conceivable that for some Jews the serpent represented messianic
power and rule (Pos. 10, 11, 19).
9. Our final and central question is “What does ‘the serpent’
symbolize in Numbers 21:4–9?” The creativity of the Elohist should not
be overlooked. He does not simply portray the upraised serpent as a
symbol of healing. He does not appeal to serpents as guardians of
houses, temples, springs, or people. He does not present the serpent
as the source of life and rejuvenation. He also does not suggest that
the serpent symbolizes Yahweh. While most of these symbolic
meanings of the serpent are contemporary with the author, and also
with the time of Moses as depicted, and while such symbolic meaning
lies in the background of the story,285 the serpent is raised by Moses to
fulfill the word of God.
The raised serpent was a sign of God’s benevolence. In anger,
God could have killed all the Israelites; they blamed him for the food
and water that kept them alive in the desert. What did God do? God
asked Moses to make a sign of his healing powers.
What sign was chosen? Was it a dove or a lion, both well-known
iconographies in the ancient Near East? Was it a scorpion that often
appears on seals and images and signifies life? The image was none
other than a serpent—the quintessential symbol of healing, health, and
rejuvenation in the ancient Near East, including Palestine from circa
1850 BCE to at least 135 CE.
This interpretation is undergirded elsewhere in biblical Hebrew; for
example, a seraph provides healing for Isaiah (Isa 6:5–7). Milgrom
sees here in Isaiah “a link” between Isaiah’s vision and Moses’
serpent.286 There should be no doubt that the author of Numbers 21
and his readers (hearers) would have known that the upraised serpent
symbolized divine power (Pos. 3), healing (Pos. 23), purifying (Pos.
24), health (Pos. 23), rejuvenation (Pos. 26), and especially life (Pos.
20; ; Num 21:8, 9).
Joines offers an assessment of the symbolic meaning of Moses’
serpent in term of ancient Near East mythology:

The most prominent element in the tradition of Moses and the bronze serpent seems to be that
of sympathetic magic—the belief that the fate of an object or person can be governed by the
manipulation of its exact image. Thereby a representation of a noxious creature could best
drive off that creature, and an adversary could most effectively be controlled by the
manipulation of his exact image.287

This paragraph is well stated and provides a good perception of

ancient symbolism. There should be no doubt that some form of
sympathetic magic is entailed in the act, or account, of Moses’ making
a likeness of the snakes that were killing the people. For the Yahwist,
however, the emphasis is to be placed elsewhere. This emphasis is on
God’s graciousness and willingness to remain with those who turn
against him. As T. Fretheim so cogently explains, when interpreting
Numbers 21:4–9:

Yet even in the wilderness God is responsive to the needs of these his complaining people….
There is a gift of healing where the pain experienced is the sharpest. Deliverance comes, not
in being removed from the wilderness, but in the very presence of the enemy. The movement
from death to life occurs within the very experience of godfor-sakenness. The death-dealing
forces of chaos are nailed to the pole. God transforms death into a source of life.288

The author of Numbers 21:4–9 seems to have acknowledged that

serpents are important for healing, but he wanted to attribute this
power to God, who told Moses to make a metal serpent as a means of
healing those stricken. Even if we agree with Dillmann that there is no
trace of the symbolic significance of healing in the narrative of
Numbers 21:4–9, we should also agree with him that the evidence of
the serpent as a symbol of healing was widespread in the ancient Near
East.289 Many centuries later, perhaps in the second century BCE, the
author of the Wisdom of Solomon also stressed that the raised serpent
was a “symbol of salvation” ( [15:6]). As a sign of
salvation, it was understood that God, not the serpent, was the source
of healing (Pos. 23): “For he that turned himself toward it [the serpent]
was not saved by the thing that he saw, but by you who are the Savior
of all” (Wis 16:7). As D. Flusser clarified, the bronze serpent did not
save; it was not efficacious in itself. The real purpose of the bronze
serpent made by Moses “was to cause the people to turn their hearts
towards their Father in heaven and to awake their faith in Him who
commanded Moses to perform” this act.290
The serpent is a symbol to which those who are stricken can look
up, so that God may heal them. Yahweh—and Yahweh alone, without
any mediator or mediation—is the source of forgiveness, requested by
“the people,” and of healing, for those bitten by the poisonous snakes.
At the center of the story is not the serpent,291 and not even Moses; in
central focus is Yah-weh: he sends the vipers. God commands and
Moses obeys. God tells those who are dying from snakebite to look up
to the copper serpent on the pole. When they do so, God is the source
of acceptance, healing, and life.
God’s healing occurs within the context of the sickness, since the
biting vipers are not removed by God and the Hebrews are not taken
out of the wilderness. As T. Fretheim states: “Deliverance comes, not
in being removed from the wilderness, but in the very presence of the
enemy. The movement from death to life occurs within the very
experience of godfor-sakenness.”292 In this context, in the wilderness
with vipers, God offers to help all who have been bitten. God will not
do everything for the Hebrews now, as he has in the past. Moses must
make a copper serpent and place it on a staff. Those who are bitten
must look up to it, believing God will heal them. God will do the rest.
The serpent symbolizes the presence of God who wills to heal his
chosen people.
The image and symbolism that shape the narrative in Numbers 21
are powerful and are reflected in Jewish thought long before the
composition of the Fourth Gospel. The salubriousness alleged to come
from placing a serpent on a stake was also a part of the Fourth
Evangelist’s culture. For example, Pliny informs us: “The head of a
viper (Viperae), placed on the bite, even though the same viper did not
inflict it, is infinitely beneficial, as is the snake itself, held up on a stick
in steam (in vapore baculo sustineat) —it is said to undo the harm
done—or if the viper is burnt and the ash applied.”293
The Brazen Serpent became a part of Western memory, and
served not only theologians but also artists. For example, one of the
worst plagues struck Venice in 1576. Not coincidentally, the Brazen
Serpent was graphically depicted by Jacopo Tintoretto between 1575
and 1576. The painting may be overly dramatic, but serpents, in
demonic forms, appear among the Hebrews in the lower part of the
painting and the Brazen Serpent is prominent above and to the left of a
burst of light shed on Moses. The Brazen Serpent twists around the
stake that is in the form of a cross. The head of the serpent is a fish.
Clearly, not only healing but also salvation are depicted on the ceiling
of the upper hall in the Scuola Grande of San Rocco in Venice.294

Summary

The author of Numbers 21:4–9 was not creating a story out of nothing.
His account may seem strange to modern readers, but to his intended
audience such a tale was normal and expected. He did not have to
describe the serpents in his narrative. Unlike us, his intended readers
knew well what snakes were like. They were abundant in and around
Jerusalem, and images of serpents were pervasive both in his culture
and especially in all contiguous cultures. He lived in a world filled with
serpent iconography and symbology. Images of serpents were
pervasive in ancient Palestine. The images of serpents on jars, or
serpents fashioned out of silver, gold, bronze, or copper, placed in
cultic settings, or hung around the neck as amulets were well known to
the author of Numbers 21:4–9, and we have abundant evidence today
of these serpent images.
There were serpent cults in ancient Palestine, especially at Hazor,
Beth Shan, and Jerusalem. Most of the evidence of a serpent cult in
and around Jerusalem was destroyed by the reforms of Kings
Hezekiah and Josiah. Hezekiah, it is clear according to the Hebrew
text, smashed the copper serpent, so there is no possibility of
discovering the Nechushtan. The Hebrew verb for “he smashed” ( )
means to “crush to fine little pieces.” Also, Hezekiah “cut down the
pole of Asherah;” that is, he also broke all the figurines of Asherah he
could find. The evidence of this action is abundant in and around
Jerusalem, as hundreds of images of Asherah have been found.
Almost always their heads have been broken off or cut off with a
sword. The date of these idols corresponds with the date assigned to
the action by Hezekiah. These reflections, as intimated at the
beginning of a study of Numbers 21, have led us into an exegesis of 2
Kings 18:4.

THE UPRAISED SERPENT IN THE TEMPLE

(NECHUSHTAN): 2 KINGS 18:4

Initial Observations

One verse in 2 Kings is closely aligned with Numbers 21:4–9, as we

have already observed and discussed. If the author of Numbers 21:4–
9 attempted to add legitimacy to the serpent cult in the Temple, the
author of 2 Kings 18:4 had the opposite motive. The Elohist in
Numbers 21 sought to salute God’s graciousness in giving his people,
the Israelites, a chance to regain life when they were bitten by
poisonous snakes in the wilderness. The author of 2 Kings 18:4 was
vehemently opposed to any semblance of idolatry and included
“Moses’ copper serpent” in his equation.
Hezekiah was the thirteenth king of Judah. He reigned from 727 to
698 BCE. He witnessed the defeat and demise of Israel, to the north in
circa 722, and fervently sought to deepen the allegiance to and
worship of Yahweh in Judah, especially in the Temple. He thus initiated
a massive program against any form of idolatry. Any explanation of
Hezekiah must acknowledge that his motives were not purely religious;
he wanted from his God political stability and protection. His actions
are the result of religious conviction and political savvy.295

Text and Translation

Here is the context of the verse:

It was in the third year of Hoshea son of Elah, King of Israel, that He-zekiah son of Ahaz, King
of Judah, became king. He was twenty-five years old when he became king, and he reigned
twenty-nine years in Jerusalem. His mother’s name was Abi, [she was] Zechariah’s daughter.
He did what was pleasing to YHWH, just as David, his ancestor, had done. It was he who
abolished the high places, and broke the sacred pillars, and cut down the pole of Asherah and
smashed the bronze serpent that Moses had made. For until those very days the Israelites
were offering sacrifices to it. It was called Nechushtan. [2 Kgs 18:1–4]296

After the usual formal introduction—the synchronistic accession

formula and regal resume297 —comes the brief, but riveting, comment:
He-zekiah “smashed the bronze serpent that Moses had
made; for until those very days the Israelites were offering sacrifices to
it .”

Questions

Eleven key questions are raised by 2 Kings 18:4 as we seek to

comprehend serpent symbolism in the Hebrew Bible. A reading of this
one verse, focused on serpent symbolism, raises at least the following
questions:

1. What is meant by “the high places” Hezekiah abolished?

2. What is the meaning of “the sacred pillars” Hezekiah broke?
3. What is meant by “the pole of Asherah” Hezekiah cut down?
4. What is meant by the statement that Hezekiah “smashed the
bronze serpent”?
5. What is the relation among the high places, the sacred pillars, the
pole of Asherah, and the copper (or bronze) serpent?
6. Why is the copper (or bronze) serpent placed last?
7. Was it really the copper (or bronze) serpent “Moses had made,”
and why would this connection be indicated at this point?
8. If there were Israelites devoted to the copper (or bronze) serpent,
and if they “knew” it had been made by Moses, then would they
not have been outraged at the smashing of a sacred and long-
cherished artifact from Moses’ own hand?
9. What is meant by “the Israelites were offering sacrifices to it,” and
 is that the only, and accurate, translation of the Hebrew?
10. Why does the author add that the serpent “was called Nechushtan

11. How does the study of serpent iconography and symbology help
us comprehend this passage?

Before attempting to answer these questions, it is prima facie evident

that such questions arise only after a detailed examination of serpent
imagery and symbology in antiquity.

Scholars’ Reflections

It seems probable that as the Yahwist wrote Genesis 3 and the Elohist
Numbers 21, the Deuteronomist has given us 2 Kings 18. In the
following discussion, thus, I shall assume that the Deuteronomistic
Historian (Dtr) is responsible for 2 Kings 18:4.298
Did Moses make the serpent mentioned in 2 Kings 18:4? Some
biblical experts claim that the answer is simply “yes.” Other specialists
ponder the question, but do not attempt to answer it. They sometimes
simply assume the reference is not to Moses but to Moses’ time; thus,
Montgomery wrote that the serpent “was a surviving ancient fetich,
coming down, as the annalist artlessly recorded from Moses’ day and
authority.”299 Many commentators do not perceive the question.
Cogan and Tadmor claim that the image of the serpent was within
“Ju-dahite tradition identified with the standard fashioned by Moses in
healing those attacked by the fiery serpents; cf. Num 21:9).”300
Perhaps the tradition was not Judahite, but the Deuteronomist sought
to make it so. Their claim also may be misleading if it excludes the
possibility that the Nechushtan was not related to Moses’ copper
serpent, but that it was a remnant of Canaanite or Jebusite serpent
cults.
Some scholars claim that one should observe that, according to a
late mi-drash, Yahweh becomes a large serpent and swallows Moses.
They then assume that 2 Kings 18 reflects an ancient tradition “that
Yahweh had at one time been identified with a Serpent-god.”301 Such
speculation needs more foundation and attention to datable texts and
archaeological artifacts.

Serpent Symbolism and Exegesis

Before discussing these eleven questions and attempting to answer
them, we should first make some exegetical and historical
observations. In the process, we shall be indebted, especially with 2
Kings 18:4, to the careful research of others. Comments, reflections,
and a search for answers involve four related issues: (1) Hezekiah’s
reform; (2) Hezekiah’s smashing a bronze serpent that was
presumably in the Temple; (3) the evidence that Moses had made the
bronze serpent; and (4) the offering of sacrifices by Israelites “to it.”
Our desire to answer our questions will be frustrated by the paucity of
historical data in these verses and our ignorance of worship in the
Temple, in all its diverse forms from Solomon to Hezekiah. These brief
verses provide rare glimpses into the creative diversity in the
Jerusalem cult. Apparently before and at the beginning of Hezekiah’s
reign, we must allow for the influence of non-Yahwistic worship (at
least as presented by the Deuteronomist), and even possible remnants
of Canaanite and Jebusite worship in the Temple cult.
1. Hezekiah’s reform was not an innovation. It was not capricious
or dominated by political exigencies or opportunities. It was a
conservative religious move to restore the worship of Yahweh,
according to the tradition of his ancestor, David (cf. also 20:5), and to
purify the worship in the Temple. Although preceded by the reforms of
Asa, Jehu, Joash, and Jehoiada, Hezekiah’s effort at restoration was
the first great reform of the cult within the history of Israel. It was
followed by the even greater religious reform by Hezekiah’s grandson,
King Josiah.
Hezekiah’s reform, doubtless undertaken by the pious king under
the influence of the great prophets of the eighth century, should be
understood as the preparation and prelude to the revolt against
Assyrian domination of the whole area, and Hezekiah is rightly
credited with being the leading figure in the coalition assembled and
reorganized to overthrow the Assyrians. A major purpose of the reform
was to unite the countries, Israel and Judah, around a common faith
and a common practice, reflected in the Deutero-nomic Code,
preserved in the biblical text. In the end, both undertakings failed—the
reform was terminated and reversed by the worst king in Judah’s
history: Manasseh. And the Assyrians overran the whole coalition,
including Hezekiah, who barely survived his revolt. In other words,
Hezekiah was smart enough to know that the country must be united
to withstand the Assyrian invasion. His plan was to bring everyone
under the banner of reform, and at the same time eliminate or
suppress any dissent from the Deuteronomic Code.302 In the
beginning he was quite successful, as the Assyrian records show, but
ultimately the greater power prevailed.303
Hezekiah had the backing of the leading Yahwistic prophets, in
particular Isaiah, and there is reason to contend that his reform was
developed along with a revival of the prophetic spirit in Judah. For the
first time in the history of Israel, one of the great prophets, as J. A.
Montgomery stated long ago, “[a]ppears in the active politics of the
state.”304 There can be no doubt that the Deuteronomistic Historian
wanted to portray Hezekiah as an exemplary reformer and one who
marked a major turning point in the history of Israel. Hezekiah did what
was “upright in the eyes of Yahweh” (18:3).
2. There seems no reason to doubt that there was a metal serpent
in the Temple, that sacrifices were being made to (or through) it by
Israelites, and that King Hezekiah had it smashed. As many
commentators point out, the same verb, “to smash,” or “crush fine
,” is used to denote both the smashing of the golden calf (Dt 9:21
and the copper (or bronze) serpent .305 Thus, as Cogan and
Tadmor comment, “Like Moses before him, Hezekiah is depicted as
ridding Israel of an idolatrous relic.”306 As a Yahwist and in the mind of
the Deuteronomistic Historian, Hezekiah’s reasons for this action are
understandable. Only Yahweh should be worshipped; in the mind of
Dtr, Israelites had been offering sacrifices to the serpent. The action of
smashing the serpent also would have entailed the proscription
against such practices and the banishing of any priests or followers
devoted to serpent worship not only from the Temple but also from
Jerusalem and the Land. According to Dtr, the people—and all priests
—had now only two options: either be banished or follow the edict,
customs, and beliefs of Hezekiah and his royal group.
3. Most interesting is the claim that Moses is the one who made, or
actually commissioned the making of, the serpent. Moses’ making the
serpent is the primary link with Numbers 21:4–9. The real question is
whether the Nechushtan is the copper serpent Moses made, or
whether Nechushtan represented a remnant of Canaanite or Jebusite
serpent worship. According to the text of 2 Kings, it was accepted
tradition in Judah that Moses had fashioned the copper serpent that
was worshipped in the Temple. Hence, we dare not read Numbers
21:4–9 (the work of the Elohist) into 2 Kings 18:4 (the work of the Dtr).
This issue cannot be fully discussed at this point.
4. Did the Israelites offer sacrifices to the Nechushtan? We must
forgo a discussion of this question until later. Now, it is imperative to
make clear that if the Israelites thought that the serpent was a symbol
of healing, then the Deuteronomist has a different claim to set before
them. According to him, the word of Yahweh came to Isaiah to
announce to King Hezekiah: “I will heal you” (2 Kgs 20:5). Thus,
Yahweh, and Yahweh alone, is the source of health and healing. If
there were Israelites in the Temple worshipping the Nechushtan as the
source of healing and health, as is possible in terms of serpent
symbology of that period, then the oracle of Isaiah corrected such
misinterpretations.
When did the author of 2 Kings 18:4 live? It is far from certain. A
case may be made for him writing these verses during the time of
Josiah,307 but many commentators now think this introductory formula
was composed during the exile and by the Deuteronomistic
Historian.308 Thus, under or after the influence of the reforms of the
Judean Kings Hezekiah (727–698) and Josiah (640–609), the author
of 2 Kings 18:4 reported why the serpent and those who were
members of its cult had to be eliminated from the Temple and probably
also banished from the Land.309 The reason is that the symbol of the
serpent was seen as an idol. It mattered little that the one intended
might have been Yahweh. This option would be inappropriate to Dtr
who believed in the commandment that forbids the making of any
image. It also did not matter if the one intended was another god. This
option was impossible within this author’s monotheism (belief in the
existence of only one God). Such an idea was inappropriate in the
Temple, even for a henotheist (one who worshipped only one God, but
acknowledged the existence of other gods). Thus, the Nechushtan had
to be removed from the Temple. It had to be pulverized.
Most likely under the influence of Isaiah’s attack on idolatry,310 King
Hezekiah banished from the Temple and Judah the worshippers of a
copper (or bronze) serpent, called Nechushtan. Presumably, they had
been offering sacrifices to it, and not only ostensibly through it to
Yahweh. Now, we can examine the questions raised by 2 Kings 18:4.
First: What is meant by “the high places” Hezekiah abolished? In
antiquity, the high places (habbamot in 2 Kgs 18:4) were sacred sites
on which shrines were built. Thus, the Deuteronomistic Historian
stresses that all the structures for the worship of any deity, including
Yahweh, at the high places were demolished. Henceforth, worship was
only to be to the one God, Yahweh, and this worship was to be
celebrated only in Jerusalem. Worship was no longer permitted in such
old traditional sites as Dan, Bethel, and Shiloh. Thus, “the high places”
denoted elevated spots, on mountains or hills, in which worship of any
deity had been organized. These high places ceased to be places for
worship with Hezekiah’s reform. It is conceivable, indeed likely, that
serpent cults had continued not only in Jerusalem, with the
Nechushtan, but also in these high places.
Second: What is the meaning of “the sacred pillars” Hezekiah
broke? In Canaanite religion, notably in northern Galilee at Hazor and
near Jerusalem especially at Gezer, there are massive stone
monuments (massevót in 2 Kgs 18:4) erected for worship. These
massevot were seen by Hezekiah and the Deuteronomistic Historian
to rival the supremacy and exclusivity of Yahwism. Since stone pillars
and a metal serpent would both symbolize permanency—and perhaps
longevity or long life (if not immortality [perhaps too early in the
evolution of human thinking]), there could be a relation between the
worship through or to large raised stone pillars and the Nechushtan.
Both pulled the eyes of the worshipper upward to what extended
beyond the short life of humans.
Third: What is meant by “the pole of Asherah” Hezekiah cut down?
We cannot be certain how to answer this question since a wooden
pole would not survive 2,700 years, from Hezekiah’s time to the
present. Most likely the fertility goddess Asherah was worshipped in
groves and was associated with a sacred tree. The tree and the
serpent are related icongraphi-cally and symbolically; both are
chthonic symbols (Pos. 15) since the tree and serpent descend deep
into the earth, the nether region and the source of life (Pos. 21).
Hence, there could be a relation between the worship of the Canaanite
Asherah and the Nechushtan, a serpent; both symbolized power (Pos.
3), divinity (Pos. 11), fertility (Pos. 1), and life (Pos. 20). Joines restricts
the options for serpent symbology and opts only for the symbol of
fertility: “Nehustan was borrowed from the Canaanites to affirm the
agricultural powers of Yahweh.”311 While I am now persuaded that Ne-
chushtan was inherited from Canaanite culture, I am even more
convinced that it symbolized not only fertility but healing, divinity, and
power.
Jerusalem had commercial and diplomatic links with the coastal
cities, like Sidon to the north. Perhaps the worship of Nechushtan was
influenced by worship in Sidon. Among the gods revered in Sidon was
Eshmun, who was in Hellenistic times equated with Asclepius.312 Both
were “serpent gods.” In Sidon, Eshmun was closely related to Astarte
(who is identified with Aphrodite in the Greeek tradition) perhaps the
most important deity in Sidon, and perhaps also in Ashlekon and
Gaza.313
The veneration of Nechushtan, the copper serpent in the Temple,
may be analogous to the worship of Asherah mentioned in 2 Kings
18:4. She is the goddess associated with the serpent cult in the
ancient Near East. She often appears nude holding serpents in one
hand or both hands. In the Ugaritic texts from Ras Shamra,314
Asherah, in Ugaritic Athirat, is the consort of El, the supreme deity, and
“the procreatrix” of all the lesser gods. In 2 Kings 23:7, Asherah is
most likely linked with sacred prostitution. There can be no doubt that
the snakes shown with her help indicate her symbolization of fertility
(Pos. 1).
Fourth: What is meant by the statement that Hezekiah “smashed
the copper (or bronze) serpent”? Note that Hezekiah did not merely
destroy the copper serpent; he pulverized it. That means he forced out
all its alleged power and positive symbolism. The object could no
longer convey power, divinity, and life; it was obliterated by Yahweh’s
chosen ruler.
There is no reason to question the existence of a copper (or
bronze) serpent in the Temple during the time of King Hezekiah.
Copper and metal serpents or serpent images have been discovered
throughout ancient Palestine, especially at Nahariyah, Hazor, Gezer,
Megiddo, Tel Mevorakh, Timna’, Tel El-Ajjul, Beth Shan, Kinneret,
Ekron, and Shechem. Clearly, worshippers of God and God Yahweh
knew about the serpent cults and, before Hezekiah’s reform, allowed
them to flourish within ancient Palestine, and also within the Yahweh
cult.315 Perhaps pre-Hezekiah devotees of Yahwism either saw no
threat from such worshippers, or sought to bring them into line with the
monotheism (or henotheism) of Yahwism. Hezeki-ah’s reform is
documented by controlled archaeological research; no metal serpents
or serpent images that postdate the seventh century and antedate the
Roman Period have been found in ancient Palestine. The many metal
serpent images found in ancient Palestine all date from the Early
Bronze Age (c. 2250 BCE) at Ein Samiya near Ramallah to Iron Age II
(c. 586 BCE) at Ekron.316 The metal serpents, serpent art, and other
forms of serpent iconography peak in the Late Bronze Age in ancient
Palestine, but they do not disappear until the end of the Iron Age.317
Fifth: What is the relation between the high places, the sacred
pillars, the pole of Asherah, and the copper (or bronze) serpent? In his
religious (and political) reform, Hezekiah had the Nechushtan
smashed so that no one could continue to worship either the serpent
or God through it. There is every reason to assume that this metal
serpent had been revered in the Temple for centuries before the time
of Hezekiah. There is no evidence that it had appeared recently; in
fact, the text assumes that it antedates the dedication of the Temple by
Solomon—that is, it dates back to the time of Moses.
We have seen that it would be absurd to assume that the copper
serpent was the only serpent cult object in and around Jerusalem
known to Hezekiah and the Deuteronomistic Historian. As should now
be evident, serpent cult objects have been discovered in controlled
archaeological excavations in sites near Jerusalem, and these serpent
images or serpents always antedate Hezekiah’s time or are roughly
contemporaneous with it. The Nechushtan could have served as the
main representative of a serpent cult in and around Jerusalem. With
the action of Hezekiah, serpent cults ceased to exist in the Holy Land,
and not only in and near the Holy City. Thus, as suggested earlier,
there is most likely a connection between the abolishing of the holy
places, the breaking of the sacred pillars, the cutting down of
Asherah’s tree, and the shattering of the Nechushtan. All may have
been related—or some worshippers of the Nechushtan may have seen
a connection among them. Hence, Hezekiah’s actions are centered;
he seems to be destroying the last vestiges of a serpent cult, and
related cults, in and around Jerusalem. Hezekiah is not only
centralizing the worship of Yahweh, he is making it possible to worship
Yahweh, and Yahweh alone, in Jerusalem. The political implications
can be discerned. Jerusalem becomes the undisputed capital as David
had envisioned. Hezekiah proved to be a true son of David, his
ancestor (2 Kgs 18:3).
Sixth: Why is the copper (or bronze) serpent placed last? The
question is not easily answered by a scrutiny of the text. The
Nechushtan is placed last probably because it was the most important
and threatening place or object. The Nechushtan was not out of
Jerusalem on some high place. It was in Jerusalem, and it was in the
Temple. Most important, some Israelites felt they were good and
faithful worshippers in the religion of Israel by worshipping at, or
through it. What had been originally intended, according to the Elohist
in Numbers 21, as a point of focusing the worshipper on being
obedient to Yahweh had been reinvented. Now, the means became an
end. Now, the benevolent Yahweh had been replaced by Nechushtan,
a sacred serpent.
If we are correct in surmising that there is a relation among the high
places, the sacred pillars, the tree of Asherah, and the Nechushtan,
then the latter was mentioned last because it was not only in the
Temple, but it was central to a serpent cult that surrounded Jerusalem.
Seventh: Was it really the copper (or bronze) serpent “Moses had
made,” and why would this connection be indicated at this point? As
mentioned while studying Numbers 21:4–9, some scholars think the
Nechushtan is indeed the serpent made by Moses. Others think that
Moses never made such a serpent, and that the account in Numbers
21 is an etiological cult legend; that is, the passage in Numbers was
composed to give legitimacy to the worship of a metal serpent in the
Temple. In either case, the historicity of a metal serpent in the Temple
and the adoration of it by Israelites are accepted as an historical fact.
Certainly, both the Elohist and Deuteronomic Historian report that
there was a metal serpent in the Temple.
The connection with Moses may represent what Moses made—that
is, a copper serpent—but the connection can also denote only
chronology and the esteem and reverence provided by a long-
cherished item. In religion, asserting longevity provides, or enhances,
sacredness. The reference to Moses may simply indicate a connection
with the time of Moses. In that ancient time, before David and
Solomon, the serpent had certainly been worshipped, or revered, in
the place now called Jerusalem. If the text is primarily a connection
with Moses’ time and not with Moses, then the possibility of some
connection with a Canaanite or Jebusite serpent deity or cult is at least
conceivable.
Eighth: If there were Israelites devoted to the copper (or bronze)
serpent, and if they “knew” that it had been made by Moses, would
they not they have been outraged at the smashing of a sacred and
long-cherished artifact from Moses’ own hand? How could Hezekiah
and those around him—especially the Yahwists of his time—remove
from the Temple and its surroundings a cult object that was associated
with Moses? Hezekiah and the Yahwists were attempting to revive the
religion of Moses. The Elohist who composed Numbers 21:4–9 did not
deny the connection with Moses; he clarified its emphasis. Denying
what some in Israel must have thought—that is, Moses had
established the serpent cult and the worship of Nechushtan—the
Elohist sought to show that Moses had emphasized a means, a cult
object, through which Yahweh could heal “the people.”
 It is dubious that Hezekiah and the Yahwists around him believed
that Moses had made the copper serpent, the Nechushtan. Perhaps
they knew that it derived from a Canaanite or Jebusite cult. It is
possible, though speculative,318 that, as H. H. Rowley maintained,319
the worship of Ne-chushtan, which was banned by Hezekiah, may
have originated within a Jebusite cult that had been conceivably
administered by Zadok, who became David and Solomon’s high priest.
The genealogies of Zadok seem manufactured to link him with
Gibeon or even with Aaron, but he seems to be the Jebusite priest in
Jerusalem when David conquered the city.320 He then serves
alongside David’s own priest, Abiathar, until he becomes the sole “high
priest” in the Temple, when Abiathar backs Adonijah against Solomon.
The connection with a Canaanite or Jebusite cult seems much more
likely than assuming the historicity of the connection between
Nechushtan and Moses. There was clearly much borrowing in the
tenth century. Joines thus, in my judgment, correctly concludes that
the Nechushtan “was introduced into the Israelite cult apparently
during either the time of David or Solomon.”321
It is possible that the Nechushtan was a remnant of earlier non-
Israelite beliefs and religious customs in ancient Palestine; after all,
Hezekiah also “abolished the high places” and he “cut down the pole
of Asherah.” These latter two acts clearly denoted the removal of
Canaanite, and perhaps Je-busite, religious cults or practices in and
around Jerusalem. This account of Hezekiah and Nechushtan shows
that serpent cults were not only present in ancient Palestine, they were
connected with Moses by the Elohist, and had penetrated worship in
the Jerusalem Temple.
Ninth: What is meant by: “The Israelites were offering sacrifices to
it,” and is that the only, and accurate, translation of the Hebrew? Is it
clear that Israelites had been sacrificing to this serpent? The
Deuteronomist states that “until those very days the Israelites were
offering sacrifices to it .” The Deuteronomistic Historian
certainly would approve of the interpretation that stresses that
Israelites were worshipping the serpent, and not only worshipping
Yahweh through it. Does the Hebrew mean that the Israelites were
sacrificing to the image of a serpent, Nechushtan? One cannot be
certain; the lamad may be a note of the accusative or a note of the
dative. That is, the lamad can also denote that the Israelites were
sacrificing through the image to God Yahweh.
The Hebrew words clearly indicate that the Israelites, and not
others, were actively offering sacrifices to the image of a serpent in the
Temple. That means that the Israelites were either offering sacrifices to
God, Yah-weh, through this symbol, or more likely that some Israelites
were directly worshipping Nechushtan, a serpent. A serpent cult was
well established throughout ancient Palestine, especially at Beth Shan
and Hazor, and active during the time from Solomon to Hezekiah.
Many Israelites did not think that the second commandment was
binding or interpreted it differently than the Deuteronomistic Historian
did.
Tenth: Why does the author add that the serpent “was called
Nechushtan” ? Despite the usual hesitation by some scholars, I
am convinced that the author of 2 Kings 18:1–4 carefully crafted his
thought and produced paronomasia: nechash hannechosheth …
nechushtan. 322 Montgomery and Milgrom323 rightly draw attention to
the “play on the two words”: nechash hannechosheth. 324 The Hebrew
phrase, nechash han-nechosheth, means “the copper (or bronze)
serpent.” The selection of words seems deliberate; the
Deuteronomistic Historian chose his thought to bring out alliteration
and paronomasia. He also succeeded in putting the serpent, nachash,
in central focus. In English, the closest I can come to such a careful
choice of words is “the copper cobra.” Perhaps calling the serpent
nechushtan accentuated this paronomasia. The sound nechash han-
nechosheth may also be onomatopoeic; that is, it could recall the
hissing sound made by a serpent. I doubt that Deuteronomy sought to
appeal to the Moses tradition, since in Numbers the word for serpent is
seraph ( in 21:6 and in 21:8).
Eleventh: How does the study of serpent iconography and
symbology help us comprehend this passage? Perceiving how
widespread the worship and veneration of the serpent were in ancient
Palestine and neighboring countries stimulates the imagination:
perhaps ophidian symbolism was present and even a serpent
worshipped in the Temple before the purifying reform of Hezekiah.
Jerusalem was not cut off from the rest of the world.
I have found many serpents and serpent images in the antiquity
shops of the Old City of Jerusalem, dating from the Middle Bronze Age
to the Iron Age (and then beginning again in the Greek Period).
Archaeologists have recovered serpent images in and near Jerusalem.
Hence, merchants brought many serpent objects from Egypt,
Babylonia, and Canaan into Jerusalem. They could have been
personal belongings, accorded different levels of respect or attention,
and they could have been brought to sell to those living in this
metropolis.
It is unwise to think that before Hezekiah all Israelites or devotees
of Yahweh had a fondness for Yahweh alone. Henotheism would have
allowed for an amalgamation of non-Yahwistic religion. The religion of
Israel was far more latitudinarian and complex than one would imagine
from studying the religious beliefs recorded in the Hebrew Bible. In
fact, the prohibitions in the Bible are sometimes, perhaps usually, an
indication of the existence of a practice or belief deemed unattractive
to the Deuteronomist or prophet.
Since Hezekiah is said to have removed the high places in which
his father, Ahaz (16:4), had worshipped, and also to have cut down the
pole of Asherah , we may continue our investigation that
there was some relation between the Nechushtan and Asherah. This is
an option affirmed by Long: “This cultic object [the copper serpent] was
apparently a fertility symbol associated with the mother goddess
Asherah at Ras Shamra and pre-Israelite Beth-shan, and thus a
Canaanite legacy in the Israelite-Judahite religion.”325 It becomes
more and more likely that the copper serpent, the Nechushtan, was a
remnant from earlier religions competitive with Yahwism, but it is not
obvious that the religion was Canaanite or that the serpent was
associated with Asherah.326 We have also seen that far more options
are evident symbolically than “fertility” and that “life-giving” seems
more representative of the serpent symbols that antedate and are
contemporaneous with the time of Hezekiah. The Elohist in Numbers
21, as shown earlier, concluded his story of how Moses made a
copper serpent, but stressed that it brought life to those who looked up
to it.
The serpent cults near and within Jerusalem were perhaps “the
widespread folk religion in Canaan.”327 The cult was deeply
entrenched in ancient Palestine, and thinking about its power and
popularity helps us understand those who were Israelites and
sacrificing through, and even to, Nechushtan. Along with their other
contemporaries, that would have found the serpent to be an ideal—
indeed fascinating—symbol for some of their ideas and hopes. With
the Egyptians, they would have found the serpent to be a good symbol
for power (Pos. 3), deity (Pos. 11), eternity (Pos. 12, cf. Pos. 27),
royalty (Pos. 10), healing (Pos. 23), and life (Pos. 20). With the
Canaanites, and those who were attached in some fashion to the
serpent cults elsewhere, perhaps at Beth Shan and Dan, they would
have seen the serpent as a symbol of rejuvenation and of the new life
of spring (Pos. 26). With many others they could have seen the
serpent as the symbol of wisdom (Pos. 18) and adhere to the creature,
made by God (Gen 3), who knew what was beneath the earth (Pos.
15).

Summary

What then was the symbolic power of the serpent, according to the
words of the Elohist in Numbers 21 and the Deuteronomist Historian in
2 Kings 18? First and foremost, the serpent represented healing. Like
the caduceus that can be traced back to 3100 BCE,328 the upraised
serpent that Moses is supposed to have made in the wilderness and
that was worshipped later in the Temple was seen, at least in Numbers
21, to symbolize healing (Pos. 23) and life (Pos. 20). Those who were
bitten by vipers could look up and be healed by God. The healing
symbolic power of the serpent is deeply rooted in Near Eastern
iconography, as we have abundantly demonstrated. The serpent as
the symbol of life and healing extends in Western culture from at least
the second millennium until the present. Perhaps the peak of interest
in the serpent as the one who could heal and renew youth appeared in
the Asclepian cult of the first and second centuries CE.
Second, for the citizens of Judah the serpent in 2 Kings 18, but not
in Numbers 21, symbolized a god or divinity (Pos. 11). The Israelites in
the Temple who revered Nechushtan most likely perceived the serpent
as a celestial being either within God Yahweh’s heavenly court or a
god other than Yahweh. Analogous serpent symbolism appeared in
Egypt in which the serpent was a god. The serpent also symbolized
the deity of the pharaoh. One sees repeatedly the uraeus on the heads
of pharaohs and one is impressed by the winged serpents on
Tutankhamen’s throne. Similar serpent iconography appeared in
Mesopotamia and most likely in ancient Palestine. Henotheism never
really ceased in Israel, not even with the clear proclamation of
monotheism by Second Isaiah, and this author postdates Hezekiah’s
reform.
Third, it is conceivable and may be probable that the serpent in the
Temple also represented fertility and fruitfulness. This theme or
dimension of serpent symbolism in Palestine is well established. The
Beth Shan serpent cult comes immediately to mind. The serpents and
the doves on incense stands from Beth Shan most likely signified the
rebirth of the earth and its vegetation at springtime. The serpent, which
goes underground seemingly whenever it wishes and hibernates
during the winter because it is coldblooded, emerges with the coming
of spring and warmth. The connection between serpent symbolism and
Persephone, who also appears at spring from the underworld—the
world of death—is evident in Greek and Roman symbolism. The
connection in later Greek and Roman iconography and symbology
helps us comprehend how the serpent earlier could indicate the rebirth
of nature (Pos. 26). Most likely some who worshipped the serpent in
the Temple may have thought about the serpent as a symbol of the
fruitfulness of the earth (Pos. 2).
Fourth, the serpent Moses allegedly fashioned and the
Nechushtan, if it is different from the one Moses made, most likely
would have been seen by the Israelites who worshipped it, or through
it, to embody power. It was upraised and perhaps denoted awesome
divinity (Pos. 11 and 17). Thus, the serpent symbolized power (Pos. 3).
Fifth, other symbolic meanings could have been represented by the
upraised serpent, both in the wilderness and in the Temple. It could
symbolize God’s creative powers (Pos. 7), mystery (Pos. 17), and
beauty (Pos. 4). These characteristics are almost always present in
serpent symbolism.
I have become persuaded that the origins of the story about the
Nechushtan are not to be found within Yahwistic belief, but outside it.
Perhaps the serpent symbol—the Nechushtan ( 2 Kgs 18:4)—
originated, and had its background, in Egyptian, Babylonian,
Canaanite, or Jebusite religion. Since archaeological evidence of the
Canaanites and Jebusites cannot be distinguished by
archaeologists,329 it is a moot point whether the Nechushtan was
inherited by Israelites in Jerusalem from one or the other. The answer
is probably that both helped to supply the image of and the worship of
Nechushtan, or through it, in the Temple.
We have heard the words of three great authors. We have listened
to the Yahwist who compiled from earlier myths the Eden Story in
which the serpent has a voice. We have been attentive to the Elohist
who described how Moses made a metal serpent in the wilderness
that brought new life to those who were dying. We have learned from
the Deuteronomistic Historian who explained how Hezekiah pulverized
the Nechushtan. Cumulatively, we have seen how a study of serpent
iconography and symbology in antiquity shines much light on
previously dark passages.
 The Symbolism of the Serpent in the
7 Gospel of John
In the preceding chapters we examined the symbolic meaning of the
serpent in many cultures and texts, especially in Greek and Latin
literature and in the Hebrew Bible. We also noted the full spectrum of
serpent symbolism, drawing attention to the symbol of the serpent in
the so-called intertestamental writings. Now we come to the New
Testament corpus. We may now conclude, as H. Gerhard surmised in
1847, that no animal symbol has such importance and such diverse,
even contradictory, meanings as the serpent.1
There are forty-one nouns in ancient Greek to denote various types
of snakes (see Appendix II). Only five of these nouns appear in the
Greek New Testament.2 This proportion, 5/41, should not seem
surprising. The documents in the New Testament are theological
works. They should not be imagined as quasi-zoological treatises (or a
De Natura Animalium). Moreover, the Greek in the New Testament
was used to convert the masses. Only on rare occasions (as in Luke’s
Prologue) was New Testament Greek directed to highly educated
persons. This observation should be combined with the recognition
that many New Testament authors knew and did occasionally use
sophisticated Greek (see, e.g., Lk 1:1–4, Rom, and Heb; contrast Rev,
whose author thought in Aramaic and Hebrew but wrote in Greek).
The five Greek nouns for snake or serpent that appear in the New
Testament corpus are “asp” ( , Rom 3:13), “dragon” ( , Rev
3
12:3, 4, 7 [bis ], 9, 13, 16, 17; 13:2, 4, 11; 16:13; 20:2), “snake” ( ,
Acts 10:12; 11:6; Rom 1:23; James 3:7), “viper” ( , Mt 3:7; 12:34;
4
23:33; Luke 3:7; Acts 28:3), and “serpent” (and sometimes “snake;”
, fifteen times in the NT [including Mk 16:18]).5
Perhaps the most interesting insight regarding ophidian symbology
in the New Testament is the fact that the common word for serpent in
Greek is the usual word for serpent in the New Testament corpus.
Surely this insight helps us grasp the desire of the New Testament
authors to use common words, as had Jesus of Nazareth; that is,
these authors chose simple language that was devoid of pretense or
ostentation.

REVELATION
The “serpent” has positive and negative meanings in the New
Testament, but only the negative meanings seem to have impressed
the exegetes and commentators.6 Our Western culture has too often
featured sin as a serpent or as a human entwined by an evil serpent.7
The key passages are in Revelation. The central text, as implied
previously, is Revelation 12 in which the “serpent,” the dragon, is
equated with Satan and the Devil. The setting is a war in heaven;
Michael and his angels fight against “the dragon” and his angels (cf.
1QM). After Michael and his angels win, there is no place for Satan
and the Devil who is “the dragon.” Thus, the author of Revelation
offers this stunning equation: “And the great dragon was thrown down,
that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of
the whole civilized world. He was thrown down to the earth, and his
angels were thrown down with him” (Rev 12:9). The author of
Revelation has inherited the concept of the serpent as a negative
symbol, and emphasized it as the symbol of the Devil (Neg. 12), God’s
Antagonist (Neg. 11), and Liar or Deceiver (Neg. 5).
Why has this symbolic meaning of the serpent been embedded in
the minds of so many scholars? Perhaps the answer lies in the
recognition that the equation is so clear and so well known. Perhaps
some have the impression that with Revelation we come to the
conclusion of “the Book.” While New Testament exegetes simply state
that in the Bible the serpent is a symbol of evil, misreading Genesis 3
and exaggerating its importance, they do ultimately confess that the
serpent, intermittently, has a positive meaning. In the preceding pages
we saw that the serpent was predominantly a positive symbol in
antiquity. In the following pages I shall attempt to show that the serpent
is also fundamentally a positive symbol in the New Testament writings.

PAUL, ACTS, THE GOSPELS

The serpent has a quasi-positive or clearly positive meaning in some

New Testament passages. While Paul is depicted as one who always
uses the serpent as a negative symbol, a close examination of his
works reveals not only negative ophidian symbolism but a remnant of
positive symbolism. Obviously, as many Pauline scholars have
emphasized (viz., C. H. Dodd, E. P. Sanders, and H. Raisanen), Paul
did not strive to be consistent according to our post-Enlightenment
criteria.8 And as K. Ehrensperger shows, Paul must not be interpreted
by a modern Western male-oriented agenda.9
 A study of ophidian nomenclature in the New Testament discloses
Paul’s sophistication and learning, as well as his frequently erudite
Greek audience. Both are reflected in his vocabulary. Paul employs
more words for snake or serpent than any other New Testament
author, including “asp” ( , Rom 3:13), “snake” ( , Rom 1:23),
and “serpent” ( , 1 Cor 10:9, 2 Cor 11:3).
Paul uses refined words for “snake” in Romans and the generic
term in the Corinthian correspondence. This fact presents one with
intriguing questions: Was Paul’s intended audience more sophisticated
in Rome than in Corinth? Or was he elevating his language so as to
present himself authoritatively to the unknown Romans who belonged
to the Jesus Movement?
In Romans 1:23, Paul’s reference to “the snake” is generic and
non-symbolic. In this verse he refers to humans who make idols that
resemble snakes. In Romans 3:13 Paul argues that all people, Jews
and Greeks, are “under the power of sin,” and that no one does good;
indeed: “[T]he venom of asps is under their lips.” The ophidian
symbolism is negative. Paul clarifies that such people “use their
tongue to deceive.” Uppermost in Paul’s mind in Romans 3:13 seems
to be the serpent as the symbol of the Liar or Deceiver (Neg. 5).
In 1 Corinthians 10:9, Paul warns against idolatry, pointing out that
we must not test the Lord: “[A]s some did and were destroyed by
serpents.” The asps sent by God are apparently represented in Paul’s
next words: “[N] or grumble, as some of them did and were destroyed
by the Destroyer.” He assumes his readers know the story in Numbers
21:5. He is using the symbol of the serpent primarily to denote the one
who is the Destroyer (Neg. 2) and the one who kills (Neg. 1). Also
implicit is the symbolic meaning of the serpent as the one who carries
out God’s intentions (Pos. 19).
In 2 Corinthians 11:3, Paul reveals his exegesis of Genesis 3. He is
convinced: “The serpent deceived Eve through his cunning.” Paul
rightly imagines that the serpent is masculine. But the serpent is not
clever or wise, as indicated by the Hebrew text and clarified by the
Septuagint. He is diabolically “cunning” . The serpent
did not ask Eve a question and provide insight into what would happen
if, or when, she ate of the forbidden fruit. He “deceived” Eve. The
serpent is a knave or a rogue.10 Paul seems also to miss the Yahwist’s
subtle use of language and careful development of the dramatis
personae. At this point in the Eden Story, the serpent’s interlocutor is
an anonymous woman; she is not yet named “Eve.” Paul misses the
opportunity to point out the Yahwist’s intention and insight: Humans
are also partly responsible for evil. That position would have been
helpful to Paul as he warns his readers of the false apostles, the
theme of 2 Corinthians 11:1–15. In 2 Corinthians, Paul has inherited
the concept of the serpent as the Liar or Deceiver (Neg. 5). While Paul
knows the positive meanings of the serpent in his culture, he almost
always emphasizes the negative meaning of the serpent—at least in
his writings that have been preserved.

Figure 80. Christ Enthroned on Lions. Note serpent in his left hand. Greek Orthodox Church.
Capernaum. JHC

The author of Acts uses the word “viper” to describe an event

that occurred on Malta. Paul, along with supposedly all on board a ship
that was destroyed by a violent storm, made it to shore. The natives
built a fire and Paul helped gather kindling. A viper shot out of a bunch
of sticks and fastened on Paul’s hand. The natives assume that the
viper had been sent by a god to punish Paul, who must be a murderer.
Paul shakes off the viper into the fire, suffering no harm. When Paul
does not swell up and die, the natives conclude that Paul “was a god”
(Acts 28:6). The narrator does not mention that the viper bit Paul.
Perhaps the viper did not bite Paul, and that is likely in terms of
ophiology, given the attempt of a viper to escape the fire and find
safety in an “arm.”
The author of Acts 28:1–6 inherits and uses many aspects of
serpent symbolism. All are positive. Two are most important. The viper
is initially perceived to be one who is a messenger of the gods; one
who carries out a god’s judgment (Pos. 19). Second, the appearance
of the viper reveals Paul may be a god. Is that because the viper could
not kill Paul? If so, the serpent may first symbolize the Death-Giver
(Neg. 1) and then reveal Divinity (Pos. 11).
Numerous questions arise that are not discussed by the
commentators. Is the relation between the viper and Paul a disclosure
that Paul, like the gods, is symbolized by a serpent (Pos. 11)? To what
extent is magic (Pos. 16) involved in this story? The author may have
employed ophidian symbolism to bring out mystery, wonder, and awe
(Pos. 17). To what extent is the author imagining the serpent to
represent immortality (Pos. 27)? A study of ophidian symbolism has
brought out dimensions of the story or history in Acts 28:1–6 that have
been missed by exegetes, commentators, and even those who have
mastered narrative exegesis.
The most stunning use of positive ophidian symbolism found in the
Synoptics is attributed to Jesus. He sends his disciples out “as sheep
in the midst of wolves” and instructs them to be “wise as serpents and
innocent as doves” (Mt 10:16). This is a most intriguing passage that
deserves study informed by ancient serpent symbolism. Now, only
three points may be clarified. First, the symbolic association of
serpents with doves antedates Jesus by at least fifteen hundred
years.11 For example, as we have already seen, serpents and doves
appear on incense stands found at Beth Shan. The serpents seem to
denote spring, life (Pos. 20), and the appearance of new life (Pos. 27).
Second, since Jesus is depicted sending his disciples out as sheep
among wolves, his injunction to be like serpents may mirror the
serpent symbolizing the guardian (Pos. 6). Wolves eat sheep and the
disciples need protection. Third, and clearly the prima facie meaning of
Matthew 10:16, Jesus’ saying brings out the predominantly Jewish
symbolic meaning of the serpent: It represents wisdom. Jesus may be
alluding, or the Evangelist may have him allude, to Proverbs 30:18–19.
Jesus is not therefore mixing metaphors; he is not pointing to a
deceptive serpent, but to the shrewdly alert serpent.12 The serpent as
a symbol of shrewdness and wisdom is found in the Jewish apocryphal
works, as we have seen, and is clear in the Septuagint rendering of
Genesis 3:1 (see that discussion). Most likely Matthew’s choice of
words—”be wise as serpents” —was shaped in light of
the Septuagint’s version of Genesis 3:1: “And the serpent was the
wisest” .
According to Matthew 10, Jesus is speaking to men who know
about daily life in Palestine. Jesus is sending out his disciples as
sheep among wolves. The latter represent the ravenous ones who
resist the disciples’ good news and strive to devour them. Jesus tells
his disciples in such circumstances to be as wise as serpents and
innocent as doves. The serpents represent cunning, prudence,
caution, and wisdom. The doves signify fidelity, revelation, simplicity,
and innocence.13 Thus, in Matthew 10:16, the serpent primarily
symbolizes wisdom (Pos. 18).
Ignorant of the Jewish perception that the serpent can symbolize
wisdom, Gregory of Nyssa in On Virginity quoted Jesus’ words
(probably from Matthew) but shifted Jesus’ positive symbolical use of
the serpent. Note how the Jesus tradition is rewritten:

It is clearly contained in that passage where our Lord says to His disciples, that they are as
sheep wandering amongst wolves, yet are not to be as doves only, but are to have something
of the SERPENT too in their disposition; and that means that they should neither carry to
excess the practice of that which seems praiseworthy in simplicity, as such a habit would come
very near to downright madness, nor on the other hand should deem the cleverness which
most admire to be a virtue, while unsoftened by any mixture with its opposite; they were in fact
to form another disposition, by a compound of these two seeming op-posites, cutting off its
silliness from the one, its evil cunning from the other; so that one single beautiful character
should be created from the two, a union of simplicity of purpose with shrewdness. “Be ye,” He
says, “wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.”14

In On Christian Doctrine, Augustine cites Jesus’ saying in Matthew 10,

but he also is preoccupied with the serpent’s negative symbolism.
Note how far off from Jesus’ positive use of the serpent is Augustine’s
teaching: “We were ensnared by the wisdom of the SERPENT: we are set
free by the foolishness of God.”15 In his Sermons on New-Testament
Lessons, Augustine repeats the misinformed exegesis: “The devil
again is a serpent, ‘that old serpent’; are we commanded then to
imitate the devil, when our Shepherd told us, ‘Be ye wise as serpents,
and simple as doves’?”16 Augustine seems lost for an answer because
he misses the rich positive symbolism of the serpent. The answer is
“yes;” the wise, intelligent, truth-speaking animal created by God (cf.
our exegesis of Gen 3).
In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus is portrayed twice using serpent
symbolism. In Luke 10, referring to the imagery in Psalm 91, Jesus
gives the group of seventy followers authority “to tread upon serpents
and scorpions” (Lk 10:19). In this verse, the serpent represents
something negative, perhaps the Destroyer (Neg. 2), God’s Antagonist
(Neg. 11), and the Devil (Neg. 12).
According to Luke 11:11, Jesus asks: “What father among you if his
son asks (for) a fish will give him a serpent instead of a fish?” What
does “serpent” signify in this verse? When one fishes in the Sea of
Galilee, a serpent may be caught in the net along with fish. The
fisherman does not have to be very discerning to distinguish the
serpent from the fish; he can easily cast the serpent back into the
water and keep most of the fish. As the fish denote sustenance and
renewed life, the serpent may symbolize death or the Death-Giver
(Neg. 1).

MATTHEW 3:7 AND THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS

Three times Matthew uses a rare expression: “you brood (offspring) of

vipers” ; 3:7, 12:34, and 23:33); the reference is clearly to
a dangerous and poisonous snake.17 This odd expression is first
attributed to John the Baptizer, who according to John 3:7 calls the
Pharisees and Sadducees a “brood of vipers.” The expression is
clearly negative, but its exact meaning is opaque. Perhaps it denoted
that these Jewish leaders were Bearers of Corruptible Knowledge
(Neg. 4). In Matthew 12:34 the selfsame expression is attributed to
Jesus, perhaps mirroring the fact that Jesus had begun his public
career as a disciple of John the Baptizer (cf. John 1:29–42, 3:22–30).
According to Matthew 12, Jesus calls his opponents, most likely the
Pharisees mentioned in verse 24, a “brood of vipers.” That epithet is
directed against Jesus’ opponents because they do not speak the
truth. They are evil (verse 34). In this passage, the serpent, the viper,
symbolizes the Liar (Neg. 5) and Evil (Neg. 13).
In Matthew 23:33, Jesus again calls his opponents a “brood of
vipers.” The noun “serpent” appears before the formula found in
Matthew. That is, Jesus addresses his opponents, now clearly the
scribes and Pharisees (23:29), with ophidian symbolism: “you
serpents, you brood of vipers.” The meaning of the symbolism is clear.
Matthew, through Jesus, portrays the scribes and Pharisees as
“hypocrites,” which is a Matthean theme. The Pharisees claim to honor
the prophets, but are exposed to be the sons of those who murdered
the prophets (23:30–31). Thus, the scribes and Pharisees are a brood
of vipers. That expression may also imply that they are children of the
Devil (Neg. 12). The expression “brood of vipers” in Matthew 23
symbolizes the Bearer of Corruptible Knowledge (Neg. 4) and the Liar
(Neg. 5). They oppose Jesus, who is God’s son. A study of ophidian
symbology suggests that they are therefore God’s Antagonist (Neg.
11).
 This expression, “brood” or “offspring” of vipers, appears not only in
Jewish texts; it is also found in Greek and Latin literature. For
example, the expression appears in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. When
Pentheus sees a reveling mob rush out of a city to celebrate some
new religious rites, he shouts against them these words: “ ‘You sons of
the serpent, you offspring of Mars, what madness has dulled your
reason?’ Pentheus cries” (“Quis furor, anguigenae, proles Mavortia,
vestras attonuit mentes?” Pentheus ait).18 Thus, the expression—
brood of vipers—known to be typical of John the Baptizer’s language
was an expression known elsewhere in the Hellenistic world. It may
have been common coin in the Mediterranean world, thus signifying
the prevalence of serpent imagery.
The same Greek noun that denotes “viper” in Acts 28:1–6 and in
Matthew 12:34 and 23:33 appears also in Matthew 3:7 and Luke 3:7 (it
is ). In the 1950s, O. Betz argued that a phrase in the
Thanksgiving Hymns reappears in the New Testament and links John
the Baptizer with Qumran.19 Betz argued that the Hebrew phrase
meant “creatures of the viper” and that this same phrase appears on
the lips of John the Baptizer, according to Matthew 3:7: “You brood of
vipers [ ]! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to
come?” During some discussions in Germany, the late Professor Betz
reiterated to me this equation and interpretation. Earlier I thought it
was stretching the point because the Hebrew phrase usually means
“works of the asp,” but some newly published Dead Sea Scroll
fragments strengthen and tend to support Betz’s interpretation.
In this hymnbook (1QHa), in column 11 (= old 3) an author, surely
not the Righteous Teacher, predicts the punishment to come to “the
works of the sand viper” (literal rendering). What does “the works of
the sand viper” ( ) mean in 1QHa11.17? Note the final lines of
this section of the Thanksgiving Hymns:
And they shall open the gates of […] the works of the sand viper. (18)
And they shall close the doors of the pit
upon the one who is pregnant with perversity
and the bars of eternity upon all the spirits of the sand viper.

Although we do not now know what was on the torn leather before “the
works of the sand viper,” it must be parallel to “the doors of the pit” in
the following line; hence the line may have read as: “shall open the
gates of [Sheol before] the works of the sand viper.” The “works” are
clearly the products of the sand viper. They are to be punished, and
that means “works” most likely means “creatures” or “children.” The
children of the sand viper are thus synonymous with the “Sons of
Darkness”—that is, all those on the earth who are not “Sons of Light”
(or Essenes).
This derived meaning of “works”—children or brood—is now found
in a recently published Dead Sea Scroll. In 4QMysteries (4Q299 Frg.
3a ii-b) we find the expression “every [or all] work,” which in context
idiomatically means “every creature” ( ).20 The author intends to
denote active beings. The full phrase appears in line 10, “the devices
(or schemes) of every creature” and in line 15, “the destructions (or
tribulations) of every creature.” It makes no sense to translate the
Hebrew as “the devices of every work.” Hence, Betz’s argument that
the selfsame phrase appears in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the New
Testament is strengthened and should be sustained.
Clarification of what “vipers” might denote among the Qumran
Scrolls may be provided by a passage in the Damascus Document. In
the copies of the Damascus Document found at Qumran we find a
reference to those who are like “[vip]ers” ;21 4Q266 Frg. 3.2.2).
The context refers to those who lack understanding and trespass
God’s commandments. The author of this passage chose “vipers” as a
pejorative term to denote sinners.
Something further may be added. The author of the Thanksgiving
Hymns probably was calling the Pharisees and Sadducees “creatures
of the sand viper.” It is thus significant that Matthew has John the
Baptizer call Pharisees and Sadducees “creatures of vipers.” Second,
the final lines of the psalm in the Thanksgiving Hymns envision the
punishment of these creatures at the end of time. The words attributed
to John the Baptizer ring with this same accent: “You creatures of the
viper! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?”

MARK 16:9–20

The appendix to Mark, 16:9–20, has a famous reference to serpents

that has been taken literally by some fundamentalists in southern
sections of the United States. In “the longer ending of Mark,” the
resurrected Jesus tells his eleven disciples that “the one who believes
and is baptized” will be able to “pick up serpents” and not be harmed
(16:18). It is interesting to observe that poisonous snakes are denoted
by “serpent” ( ) and not by “asp” ( as in Rom 3:13) or “viper” (
as in Mt 3:7; 12:34; 23:33; Luke 3:7; Acts 28:3).
 The compiler of this appendix to Mark was influenced by Greek
mythology. Dionysus, who appears as a serpent, gave his devotees
the power to handle serpents. Thus, like Athena, they, the Bacchantes,
were possessed and could hold deadly snakes. Most likely in Mark
16:18 the serpent primarily symbolizes the Death-Giver (Neg. 1).

JOHN 3:14

Initial Observations

The Gospel of John was composed and edited over three or four
decades, reaching its present form, without the story of the adulterous
woman (7:53–8:11), which was inserted later, about 95 CE.22 The work
may have been first composed in Jerusalem in the mid-sixties and
later edited and expanded elsewhere, perhaps in Antioch or
Ephesus.23 For almost two thousand years, Christians have assumed
that the Fourth Evangelist, of all the Evangelists, was the one most
influenced by Greek thought and was dependent on the Synoptics (Mt,
Mk, Lk), and that the Beloved Disciple who appears only in the Fourth
Gospel as the disciple “whom Jesus loved” (Jn 13:23) is to be
identified with the Fourth Evangelist. Since the discovery of the Dead
Sea Scrolls, it has become obvious to many Johannine experts that
the Fourth Gospel is the most Jewish of the Gospels.24 Recently, P.
Borgen, D. M. Smith, and other Johannine experts have rightly pointed
out that the Fourth Evangelist may have known one or more of the
Synoptics, but wrote “independently” of them.25 In the past fifty years,
Johannine experts have demonstrated why the Fourth Gospel is
probably not apostolic or connected with the Apostle John but took its
final form, perhaps, in Ephesus. Among the most important insights is
the perception that this John and his brother—the sons of Zebedee—
never appear in the Fourth Gospel, and it would be inexplicable why
the Transfiguration, which was witnessed by John and would be so
appropriate for the Fourth Evangelist’s cosmic theology, would be
omitted.26
Figure 81. Bronze Symbol of Diana (Artemis). Deer with serpent around neck. From Ephesus
[?]. Early Roman Period. JHC Collection

M. L. Robert draws attention to an approximately 7-meter-long

headless bronze serpent, rising up, with markings for scales and
seven curves. Found with a bust of Tiberius and Livy in a Roman ruin
at Ephesus, it is highly symbolical, representing a domestic cult. Most
likely it symbolized protection (Pos. 6) and prosperity (Pos. 2).27 Such
images helped to clarify that only Rome was powerful and that the
emperor was like a god, since the images of human heroes must be
life-size but emperors and gods could be over 7 meters high.28

Text and Translation

There can be little doubt that the passage on which we are focusing
was carefully composed by the Fourth Evangelist and reflects the
culture of the first century. Here is the text and translation, with key
symbolical words italicized in the translation:

29

And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,

So it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up
In order that all who are believing in him may have eternal life.
[Jn 3:14–15]30

Arriving at this point in the study of ancient serpent symbolism, many

readers might assume that the author of John 3:14 makes some
connection between Jesus and the serpent. That is the understanding
that slowly impressed me.
The possibility that the Fourth Evangelist is drawing some analogy
between the serpent and Jesus is unthinkable if the serpent
symbolizes evil.31 However, the reader now knows that serpent
symbolism was multivalent especially when the Gospel of John was
being written and shaped.32 Most readers will now comprehend why
the Apocalypse of John and its portrayal of the serpent as Satan is not
the proper perspective from which to understand chapter three of the
Gospel of John.

Questions

As with Genesis 3 and Numbers 21 some questions arise, although

they are not so numerous. Why does the Fourth Evangelist turn to an
exegesis of Numbers 21 to make a point? Why does he attribute the
teaching to Jesus? Was he imagining Moses’ serpent as a “pre-
Christian” symbol of Jesus? Was he imagining Moses’ serpent as a
type of Jesus? If so, what meaning was the author attempting to
communicate and why?
Does the Fourth Evangelist in John 3:14–15 only make a
comparison between the serpent and Jesus in terms of the verb “to lift
up”? That is the usual advice of commentators,33 but is it accurate,
partially correct, or misleading? Does “to lift up” refer to the lifting up
on a cross and, if so, why does the Greek verb never have that
meaning? Does the verb denote Jesus’ being lifted up into heaven and
returning to the Father? What is the meaning of the “as” and “so” that
begin the first and second stichoi? What is the precise meaning of the
passive verb “be lifted up”? Who is the Son of Man? What is meant by
“believing in him”? Is there any connection between “the serpent” and
“eternal life”?
The well-known zodiac circle and its animal signs were employed
symbolically by many Christians; they appear, for example, in
Revelation. The palm and the crown were accorded Christian
meaning. The vine and the tree of life from the Genesis story were
used symbolically.34 The ship was used to signify the early church
buffeted by the seas of time. The plow and the axe symbolized the
Christian interpretation of Isaiah 2:3–4 and the dream when people
“will beat their swords into plowshares.” Especially the fish, which is
ichthus in Greek (an acronym: ich denotes Jesus Christ, th is Theou [=
of God], u is huios [= Greek for “ the Son,” and s [= Savior]), and “living
water” were employed to represent the Christian confession.35 These
symbols, some of which clearly originated in “pagan” cultures, were
incorporated and redefined by Christians. Why was the serpent not a
symbol widely used in Early Christianity as it was in the Asclepian cult
—and was serpent symbolism employed in some communities? Why
has virtually no Johannine scholar seen that Hellenistic and early
Jewish serpent symbology may also clarify and enrich our
understanding of the serpent in John 3:14–15?
One explanation is that the serpent is often always misperceived as
a symbol of evil. Jews, Christians, and Muslims tell me repeatedly,
before we discuss the traditions, that the serpent symbolizes Satan or
the Devil. Another reason for the failure to perceive the richness of
serpent symbol-ogy in antiquity is that the animal, concept, and
symbolism are surprisingly absent in many reference works. For
example, there is no entry for “serpent” or “snake” in G. Cornfeld et al.,
eds., the Pictorial Biblical Encyclopedia (1964).

Scholars’ Reflections

Do Johannine experts not clearly see a connection between Jesus and

the serpent in John 3? Fortunately, the specialists on the Fourth
Gospel avoid the temptation to see Jesus as an evil or poisonous
snake. The closest to this absurdity would be the suggestion that the
Son of Man represented poison. In fact, J. G. Williams argued the “Son
of Man who is lifted up was accused of being ‘poison.’ “ He continued:
“Unlike the serpent Moses held up, he [Jesus] is not poison.”36
Nowhere in early Jewish thought or in traditions that have shaped or
appear in the New Testament can I find textual support for such a
supposition. Fortunately, Johannine scholars are more informed and
perceptive.
The German M. Claudius, by his own admission, loved to study the
Bible, especially (“am liebsten”) the Gospel of John. Using the
exegetical method that was acceptable in his time, but is today
recognized as conflationism (e.g., the mixing of Moses’ ideas with
those of the Fourth Evangelist), Claudius argued that Moses, in the
upraised serpent of the wilderness period, perceived what would
transpire centuries later and in Jerusalem: the crucifixion of the Son of
Man.37 Johannine scholars are more diachronically sophisticated than
Claudius; they do not make the mistake of assuming Moses had
foreknowledge of Jesus.
Yet we must ask again: Do they see a connection between the
serpent and Jesus? The answer is clearly “no;” they either miss the
poetry that makes “the serpent” parallel to “the Son of Man” (see the
following discussion) or they assume no comparison was intended by
the Fourth Evangelist. This should not be revolutionary news, since we
drew attention to commentators’ failure to include ophidian symbology
in an exegesis of John 3:13–16 in the opening pages of this book.
The commentators have unanimously opted for another
comparison, observing that the grammar demands a comparison (note
“as” followed by “so;” see the following discussion). Johannine experts
conclude that the comparison in John 3:14–15 applies only to the verb
“to lift up.” Note again some pertinent comments:
The phrase “to be lifted up” refers to Jesus’ death on the cross. This is clear not only from the
comparison with the serpent on the pole in vs. 14, but also from the explanation in xii 33.
[Brown, 1966]38
…. the deepest point of connection between the bronze snake and Jesus was in the act of
being “lifted up.” [Carson, 1991]39
And, just as that snake was “lifted up” in the wilderness, so, Jesus says, “the Son of Man must
be lifted up.” This must refer to his being “lifted up” on the cross. [Morris, 1995]40
Und wie Gott in der Wüste seinen Zorn gegen das rebellische Volk durch die Rettungsgabe
der erhöhten Schlange überwunden hat, so hat er Jesus … durch seine Hingabe und
Erhöhung an das Kreuz—zu retten. [Wilckens, 2000]41
In dem Johannes den “erhöhten” Menschensohn … gibt er den gekreuzigten Jesus als
Zeichen zu verstehen, das auf Gott weist. [Wengst, 2000]42

In an erudite and insightful study on John 3:14–15, R. R. Marrs shows

no interest in serpent iconography or symbology and misses the
comparison between Jesus and the serpent.43 For him, “the point of
comparison” is clearly “not between Moses and Jesus, since Moses is
the lifter of the serpent, while Jesus is the one lifted. The immediate
point of comparison seems simply the lifting up that occurs in both
scenes” (p. 146).
One of the most distinguished and gifted Johannine experts, and
one who is probably the most informed specialist on what is a
consensus in the study of John has served us well. In a book that
appeared when the present work was nearing its completion, D. M.
Smith summarizes the consensus on the meaning of John 3:14. Note
his words:
The biblical scene in view here is Num 21:8–9, where the Lord instructs Moses to make an
image of a serpent and elevate it on a pole, so that the rebellious Israelites, against whom the
Lord had actually sent serpents in the first place, might, if snake bitten, look on it and live. The
analogy with the work of the crucified Jesus, the Son of Man who is lifted up, is very striking
indeed. It is a classic typology. The element that is new in John, and characteristically
Christian, is the emphasis on belief, which is absent from the story in Numbers. (Of course,
comparisons of Jesus with the serpent are misplaced; the analogy applies only to being lifted
up.)44
Succinctly, and accurately, Smith reports what we surmised in the
beginning of this book. There is a consensus among Johannine
scholars: in commenting on John 3:14–16, either they fail to see the
possibility of the parallel between the serpent and Jesus or they deny
any “comparison” between Jesus and the serpent.
In Smith’s clear assessment of the consensus several questions
arise: (1) Does the Fourth Evangelist offer us a classic typology
whereby Jesus, as the Son of Man lifted up, is portrayed as Moses’
upraised serpent? If so, how can “comparisons of Jesus with the
serpent” be “misplaced”? (2) While an element in the Fourth Gospel is
clearly a reference to “believing,” should it be categorized as a “new”
element since the Hebrews who look up to the metal snake must trust
in God’s promise to heal them so they may live? (3) Would the Fourth
Evangelist have agreed that “the emphasis on belief” is a “new”
element and “absent from the story in Numbers 21”? (4) Does “the
analogy” apply “only to being lifted up”? The research summarized in
the following pages casts doubt on each of these claims.
Before proceeding further, I must record some concern, having
checked over six hundred commentaries on the Fourth Gospel. It is
astounding how focused some of the best exegetes are on philology;
yet they show no interest in symbology. John 3:14–15 is not
problematic philologically; it is complex symbolically. That has become
pellucid. Virtually no commentary on the Fourth Gospel over the past
hundred years shows interrogatives directed to the “serpent” in John
3:14. Contrast, however, the brilliant and focused attention of John
Chrysostom (italics mine):
“That whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.” Seest thou the
cause of the Crucifixion, and the salvation which is by it? Seest thou the relationship of the
type to the reality? There the Jews escaped death, but the temporal, here believers the
eternal; there the hanging serpent healed the bites of serpents, here the Crucified Jesus cured
the wounds inflicted by the spiritual dragon; there he who looked with his bodily eyes was
healed, here he who beholds with the eyes of his understanding put off all his sins; there that
which hung was brass fashioned into the likeness of a serpent, here it was the Lord’s Body,
builded by the Spirit; there a serpent bit and a serpent healed, here death destroyed and a
Death saved. But the snake which destroyed had venom, that which saved was free from
venom; and so again was it here, for the death which slew us had sin with it, as the serpent
had venom; but the Lord’s Death was free from all sin, as the brazen serpent from venom….
For as some noble champion by lifting on high and dashing down his antagonist, renders his
victory more glorious, so Christ, in the sight of all the world, cast down the adverse powers,
and having healed those who were smitten in the wilderness, delivered them from all
venomous beasts that vexed them, by being hung upon the Cross. Yet He did not say, “must
hang,” but, “must be lifted up” (Acts xxviii. 4); for He used this which seemed the milder term,
on account of His hearer, and because it was proper to the type.45

It is impressive how many times John Chrysostom mentions the

serpent, the dragon, and the snake.

Serpent Symbolism and Exegesis

Despite insights into the positive symbolism of the serpent by Ephrem

Syrus and Cyril of Jerusalem, as well as Augustine and Calvin, the
prevailing mood of New Testament exegetes who turn to John 3:14 is
that snakes, or serpents, are vile animals who are simply pejorative
symbols. This concept can be found in the New Testament, as we
have just seen, but the turning point in exegesis of John 3:14–15 may
well be seen in the writings of Eusebius (c. 260-c. 340 CE). In
introducing Philo of Byblos’ alleged excerpt from Sanchuniathon, which
celebrates the mythological importance of the serpent, Eusebius
cannot restrain himself. This genius, often celebrated as the father of
Church history, prejudices the reader with these comments: snakes
are “creeping and venomous beasts which certainly perform nothing
beneficial for humans, but rather effect ruin and destruction for
whomever they strike with deadly and cruel venom.”46 Under such
denigration of the serpent, which became characteristic of the church,
subsequent interpreters of John 3:14 will miss the rich symbolism
provided by the culture in which the Fourth Gospel took shape. It was,
as we have seen, filled with positive images of the serpent as the
source of life, health, rejuvenation, new life, and resurrection. Recall
again the epic of Gilgamesh, which was an ancient well-known legend
a millennium and more before the Fourth Evangelist. According to
Tablet XI, a snake, the “lion of the ground,” steals from Gilgamesh the
plant called “The Old Man Becomes a Young Man.” Having obtained
the plant, the snake “sloughed off its casing” and became eternally
youthful.47
About the same time as Eusebius, the Christian apologist Arnobius
(who died about 330 CE) ridiculed those who portrayed Asclepius as a
serpent. He argues that “a serpent” crawls over the earth “as worms
are wont to do, which spring from mud.” The serpent “rubs the ground
with his chin and breast, dragging himself in sinuous coils.”48 In this
section of his seventh book, Arnobius reveals how powerful was the
cult of Asclepius and what a threat it was for the success of
Christianity. In such a setting, so different from the time in which the
Fourth Gospel took shape, it will become more and more difficult to
grasp the original intention of the symbolism in John 3:14–15. The
backdrop for this stage of history was even set earlier by Tertullian. He
was sidetracked from developing his own insights on the typology of
the serpent for Christ because of the Ophites who exaggerated the
literal meaning of 3:14–15.49
The time of the first Council of the Church—at Nicea in 325 CE—
seems to be a barrier that separates a period when the serpent was
predominantly a positive symbol from one in which it is almost always
a negative symbol (cf., e.g., Fig. 7). It is abundantly clear, both from a
study of Christian thought from the late second century CE to the fourth
century CE and from conversations with learned colleagues in New
Testament research, that the exegete is now prejudiced against the
serpent symbolizing something positive. That attitude causes a
misreading and a misinterpretation of New Testament passages.
The habit of assuming that the serpent symbolizes only evil has
been a hallmark of Christian exegesis since about the fourth century.
For example, even though Theodoret (c. 393–466), a bishop in Syria,
grasps that the Fourth Evangelist drew a parallel between Jesus and
the serpent, the serpent must symbolize something negative. Note the
following excerpt from Theodoret’s Dialogues (the characters are
fictitious: “Eranistes” represents the opponent of “Orthodoxus,” the one
who argues on the basis of apostolic decrees):
Eranistes.—Do you not think it irreverent to liken the Lord to goats?
Orthodoxus.—Which do you think is a fitter object of avoidance and hate, a serpent or a
goat?
Eranistes.—A serpent is plainly hateful, for it injures those who come within its reach, and
often hurts people who do it no harm. A goat on the other hand comes, according to the Law,
in the list of animals that are clean and may be eaten.
Orthodoxus.—Now hear the Lord likening the passion of salvation to the brazen serpent.
He says: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness even so must the Son of Man be
lifted up: that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.” If a brazen
serpent was a type of the crucified Saviour, of what impropriety are we guilty in comparing the
passion of salvation with the sacrifice of the goats?
Eranistes.—Because John called the Lord “a lamb,” and Isaiah called Him “lamb” and
“sheep.”
Orthodoxus.—But the blessed Paul calls Him “sin” and “curse.” As curse therefore He
satisfies the type of the accursed serpent; as sin He explains the figure of the sacrifice of the
goats, for on behalf of sin, in the Law, a goat, and not a lamb, was offered. So the Lord in the
Gospels likened the just to lambs, but sinners to kids; and since He was ordained to undergo
the passion not only on behalf of just men, but also of sinners, He appropriately foreshadows
His own offering through lambs and goats.50

Far too often biblical scholars tell me, over and over, that they hate
snakes and are afraid of them. That viewpoint seems myopic—even
unreflective. These scholars celebrate the power of the bull and with
admiration hold a bronze bull artifact from the second millennium BCE;
they exuberantly exclaim what a powerful and appropriate symbol the
bull is for God’s power. They never seem to grasp how dangerous and
destructive the bull is. The same scholars write about the lion and
admire it as the quintessential symbol of the king and the messiah.51
They seem to forget that “the king of beasts” is far more ferocious and
fearful than a snake. Such scholars’ research is corrupted by
unperceived presuppositions and nurturing (i.e., instruction that
presupposes snakes are always to be feared, hated, and killed).
Indeed, the serpent is perceived to be feared not because of
experience with nature but from nurturing. We do not obtain a fear of
serpents only, or primarily, from experience or nature. The point I have
been making, from the outset of the present book, was popularized in
M. Ridley’s “What Makes You Who You Are,” in Time (June 2, 2003):52
Fear of snakes, for instance, is the most common human phobia, and it makes good
evolutionary sense for it to be instinctive. Learning to fear snakes the hard way would be
dangerous. Yet experiments with monkeys reveal that their fear of snakes (and probably ours)
must still be acquired by watching another individual react with fear to a snake. It turns out that
it is easy to teach monkeys to fear snakes but very difficult to teach them to fear flowers. What
we inherit is not a fear of snakes but a predisposition to learn a fear of snakes—a nature for a
certain kind of nurture.

We should avoid the error of positing a false dichotomy between

nature and nurture. Is it not clear that we are taught to hate snakes?
This is not a native disposition inherited. To appreciate ancient serpent
symbolism we must be constantly aware to avoid the nurturing that
brands snakes as dangerous, evil, and fearsome.
If we are to comprehend successfully the symbolism inherited by
and developed by the Fourth Evangelist, we must immerse ourselves
in his time. We must indwell the culture that shaped his thoughts and
provided the symbolism and metaphors by which he could articulate
his own thoughts. His context provided perceptions and symbolism by
which he crafted his challenging Christology. G. Theissen, with
erudition and sensitivity, illustrates how immersing oneself in the
cultural and political context of a text creates new insights for
reflection.53 We have been attempting to demonstrate this point by
focusing on serpent imagery and symbolism in the cultural and
historical contexts of our texts, especially Genesis 3, Numbers 21, and
John 3.
During the period when the Fourth Gospel was taking shape and
for the next three centuries, the Asclepian cult and its bewitching
serpent symbolism were a threat to Christian theologians and church
leaders. In A Plea for the Christians, the second-century Athenagoras,
the Athenian Christian apologist, reported that Hesiod said the
following of Asclepius:
The mighty father both of gods and men
Was filled with wrath, and from Olympus’ top
With flaming thunderbolt cast down and slew
Latona’s well-lov’d son—such was his ire.54

Tertullian helps us understand Hesiod’s cryptic verse. Citing the lyric

poet Pindar, Tertullian comments that “Aesculapius,” the god of
medicine, was “deservedly stricken with lightning for his greed in
practising wrongfully his art. A wicked deed it was of Jupiter—if he
hurled the bolt—unnatural to his grandson, and exhibiting envious
feeling to the Physician.”55
Asclepius was thus killed by Zeus’ thunderbolt, but Asclepius’ story
did not end with his death.56 His devotees claimed to experience him
alive again, as Origen reports in Against Celsus 3.24. Such beliefs and
hopes challenged the kerygma (proclamation) in the Christian
movement (cf. esp. Augustine, The City of God 7.23 and 10.16).
Asclepius remained very popular, especially for all who were sick or
injured.57 In his On the Incarnation of the Word, Athanasius lists some
of the connections between Asclepius and Christ and denies that there
is any conceivable parallel. Note his reflections:
You call Asclepius, Heracles, and Dionysus gods for their works. Contrast their works with His,
and the wonders at His death.
For what man, that ever was born, formed a body for himself from a virgin alone? Or what
man ever healed such diseases as the common Lord of all? Or who has restored what was
wanting to man’s nature, and made one blind from his birth to see? Asclepius was deified
among them, because he practised medicine and found out herbs for bodies that were sick;
not forming them himself out of the earth, but discovering them by science drawn from nature.
But what is this to what was done by the Saviour, in that, instead of healing a wound, He
modified a man’s original nature, and restored the body whole. Heracles is worshipped as a
god among the Greeks because he fought against men, his peers, and destroyed wild beasts
by guile. What is this to what was done by the Word, in driving away from man diseases and
demons and death itself? Dionysus is worshipped among them because he has taught man
drunkenness; but the true Saviour and Lord of all, for teaching temperance, is mocked by
these people.58

Quite significantly, the noun “Savior” appears more than once in this
passage; that is because both figures, Asclepius and Christ, were
proclaimed to be the Savior. While it is possible that the prior use of
“Savior” by the devotees of Asclepius influenced Christology, it is clear
that the two “Roman cults” clashed. Both could not be the only Savior
of the world.
Even Clement of Alexandria, who has some harsh things to report
about Asclepius, recorded the claim that “the Phoenicians and the
Syrians first invented letters; and that Apis, an aboriginal inhabitant of
Egypt, invented the healing art before Io came into Egypt. But
afterwards they say that Asclepius improved the art.”59 A vast number
of Greeks and Romans agreed with Pindar that Asclepius was the
“gentle craftsman who drove pain from the limbs that he healed,—that
hero who gave aid in all manner of maladies.”60 Tertullian’s comments
mirror the threat of the Asclepiads to Christians; in his judgment they
were all demons. Note his words:
Let that same Virgin Caelestis herself the rain-promiser, let Aesculapius discoverer of
medicines, ready to prolong the life of Socordius, and Tenatius, and Asclepiodotus, now in the
last extremity, if they would not confess, in their fear of lying to a Christian, that they were
demons, then and there shed the blood of that most impudent follower of Christ.61

This confusing excerpt is chosen to make only one point. The words of
Tertullian mirror the threat of Asclepius (Aesculapius) for Christ; the
former seems merely to be an “impudent follower of Christ.” In The
Chap-let, Tertullian rejects the claim that Asclepius was “the first who
sought and discovered cures.” Tertullian claims that much earlier
“Esaias [Isaiah] mentions that he ordered Hezekiah medicine when he
was sick. Paul, too, knows that a little wine does the stomach good.”62
Origen knew the claims that Jesus’ death was similar to Asclepius’
death. He rejects such claims and similarities between the two most
famous miracle workers before the time of the Fourth Evangelist. Note
Ori-gen’s words:
But we, in proving the facts related of our Jesus from the prophetic Scriptures, and comparing
afterwards His history with them, demonstrate that no dissoluteness on His part is recorded.
For even they who conspired against Him, and who sought false witnesses to aid them, did not
find even any plausible grounds for advancing a false charge against Him, so as to accuse
Him of licentiousness; but His death was indeed the result of a conspiracy, and bore no
resemblance to the death of Aesculapius by lightning.63

The threat to Jesus’ followers from the devotees of Asclepius

resulted not only from the popularity of the Asclepian cult but also
because Asclepius’ life was virtually a mirror of the story of Jesus.
Asclepius was originally perceived as a human. In Homer and other
early authors, Asclepius is a human. He is the great physician. He
dies, and appears again in dreams, and, according to some of his
devotees, he is alive again. He becomes a god equal to Zeus, an
elevation that seems to have taken place during the time when the
Fourth Gospel was being composed and edited.64 Note these
reflections by Justin Martyr: In what was it possible for Jesus Christ to
make “whole the lame, the paralytic, and those born blind, we seem to
say what is very similar to the deeds said to have been done by
Aesculapius.”65 The similarities between the story of Asclepius and the
gospel about Jesus are thus undeniable. The followers of Jesus were
challenged not only by the Asclepiads and their devotion to Asclepius,
but also by the story of Asclepius and his promise of health and
everlasting life.66
Two of the most significant works on Christ and Asclepius were
published in the 1980s. In 1980, E. Dinkler focused on the Christ
typology reflected in a polychromatic scene of a meal and healings.
This scene is found in high relief on a broken plaque in the Mesa
National Romano.67 He points out that the sculpture seems to depict
Christ in light of Asclepius. The second is a 1986 Harvard University
dissertation by R. J. Riittimann: “The Form, Character and Status of
the Asclepius Cult in the Second Century CE and Its Influence on
Early Christianity.”
Rüttiman has missed two of the major publications on Asclepius
and Jesus. He seems not to know about Dinkler’s publication, which
appeared eight years earlier. He does know and benefit from a major
study by K. H. Rengstorf that is devoted to the beginnings of the clash
between Christians and devotees of Asclepius.68 While Rengstorf
dates the beginnings of this sociological and religious confrontation to
the middle of the second century CE, there are reasons to assume it
may already be present earlier.
We have obtained some insight into why the serpent was not a
positive symbol for most early Christians. Those with whom Christians
were struggling to survive and develop a normative self-understanding
had appropriated the positive symbol of the serpent. It would have
made an appropriate symbol, however, in light of Numbers 21 and
John 3.
In the following pages we shall ask the questions allegedly already
asked and answered if Johannine experts have concluded that Jesus
cannot be parallel to the serpent in John 3:14. Are comparisons
between Jesus and the serpent “misplaced”? Does the analogy in
John 3 apply “only to being lifted up”?
What is the “classic typology” to which D. M. Smith refers? How
can the typology be only to lifting up? Was it not important to the
Fourth Evangelist that it was necessary for Jesus to be lifted up? Does
not John 3:14–15 also include the full typology: Moses’ serpent placed
on a pole represents Jesus’ “exaltation” on the cross? In John 12:32–
33, the Fourth Evangelist makes it clear that to lift up refers to Jesus’
crucifixion; is only crucifixion intended in John 3:14–15?
 Is Smith correct to report that “comparisons of Jesus with the
serpent are misplaced; the analogy applies only to being lifted up”?69
How could the Evangelist think only about lifting up and never about
the lifting up of Jesus? Are such comparisons misplaced, if Jesus is
then portrayed to be the one who brings life abundantly, a key attribute
of serpent symbology?
The interpretation of John 3:14 entails searching for the meaning of
a symbol: the serpent. Four components are involved: the symbol
maker (the Fourth Evangelist), the symbol, the meaning of the symbol,
and the interpreter of the symbol (in antiquity and today). Clearly, the
central concern for us is the third component part: the meaning of a
symbol. Does it reveal or point toward meaning? We shall see that
both are involved, especially the latter.
To establish the point that the Fourth Evangelist thinks about Jesus
as Moses’ serpent, and to forge against the stream of Johannine
research, we need to demonstrate nine points:

1. The serpent was a powerful and positive symbol in the culture of

the Fourth Evangelist.
2. The grammar of John 3:14 indicates some relation between Jesus
and the serpent.
3. The syntax indicates that Jesus and the serpent are related.
4. The poetry of the passage draws a parallel between the serpent
and Jesus.
5. The Son of Man traditions employed in this verse, John 3:14, are
ancient and already rich with Christological overtones that would
accommodate serpent imagery and symbolism.
6. The key symbols in Johannine theology support the insight that
Jesus is seen in John 3 as a mirror reflection of Moses’ serpent on
the pole. Both demand commitment or belief and both promise
“life.” This is the dominant symbolic meaning of the serpent in the
first century CE; for example, the Asclepiads claimed that
Asclepius could heal and bring new life—and he was symbolized
as the serpent in dreams and with shown with a serpent on his
staff in paintings and sculptures.
7. Intertextuality.
8. The possible remnants of a synagogal sermon.
9. The evidence of an underlying anguine Christology in the Gospel
of John.70

These explorations will help clarify to what extent the Fourth

Evangelist imagined Jesus as a type of Moses’ serpent as well as
confirm that ophidian symbolism is found in John 3:14–15.
Cultural Symbolism. I have asked research assistants and
colleagues what they think when they hear “Jesus, the serpent.” They
answer, “Jesus, the Devil.” Their response is immediate and no
reflection seemed required. If we were able to ask members of the
Johannine community what they might think if they heard that a man
was thought of as a serpent, they most likely would answer that he
was divine. At the outset, we need to be aware of the vast difference
between two cultures: that of the United States in the twenty-first
century and that of the Fourth Evangelist in the first century.
A study of serpent symbolism in antiquity has proved to be
revealing. The first emperor of Rome, Augustus (63 BCE-14 CE), was
considered a god, even if he suffered occasionally from diarrhea. The
Roman historian Suetonius (c. 69-c. 140 CE) in his only extant work,
The Twelve Caesars, recorded the following startling account of the
birth of Augustus Caesar:71
Then there is a story which I found in a book called Theologumena, by Asclepiades of
Mendes. Augustus’ mother, Atia, with certain married women friends, once attended a solemn
midnight service at the Temple of Apollo, where she had her litter set down, and presently fell
asleep as the others also did. Suddenly a serpent glided up, entered her, and then glided away
again. On awakening, she purified herself, as if after intimacy with her husband. An
irremovable coloured mark in the shape of a serpent, which then appeared on her body, made
her ashamed to visit the public baths any more; and the birth of Augustus nine months later
suggested a divine paternity. 72

Figure 82. The Resurrection. Christ holding a serpent. Mount Athos, Philopaedia Monastery.
JHC
 The spirit of the time when the Fourth Gospel was composed was
imbued with the understanding and belief that serpents were positive
symbols. The story of Augustus’ birth from a serpent (although it was
also acknowledged that he was the son of a novus homo) was well
known and widely assumed to be accurate.73 It shaped beliefs, myths,
and reflections on other individuals deemed divine. Augustus was
none other than the son of Apollo, the son of Jupiter and Latona.
In evaluating this story of Augustus’ “divine paternity” by the great
god, Apollo-Zeus, it is imperative to observe that Suetonius’ account of
the lives of the Caesars continues until the death of Domitian in 96 CE.
That is about the time the Fourth Gospel reached its completion, or
second edition.74 During the time the Fourth Gospel was taking shape
and moving through two editions,75 the divinity of Augustus was widely
expressed in terms of serpent imagery. It is thus prudent to ponder
how and in what ways the Fourth Evangelist sought to stress Jesus’
divinity by interpreting Numbers 21 so that Jesus is presented like
Moses’ upraised serpent.
The Fourth Evangelist completed his second edition of the Fourth
Gospel about 95 CE, at which time he added the Logos Hymn (Jn 1:1–
18), which was most likely chanted in the Johannine “school,” and
other sections of his Gospel, especially chapter 21. Also about 95 CE,
Philo of Byblos was working on his compositions. As we have already
seen, he discusses the divine nature of serpents. Philo of Byblos
emphasizes that the serpent sheds its skin and so is immortal. Philo of
Byblos refers to his own monograph, called Ethothion. In it he claims
to “demonstrate” that the serpent is “immortal and that it dissolves into
itself … for this sort of animal does not die an ordinary death unless it
is violently struck. The Phoenicians call it ‘Good Demon.’ Similarly the
Egyptians give it a name, Kneph, and they also give it the head of a
hawk, because of the hawk’s active character.”76 We can read portions
of the Ethothion, which is lost, because Eusebius, the first Christian
historian, cites it. According to Eusebius’ citation, Philo of Byblos calls
the serpent “exceedingly long-lived, and by nature not only does it
slough off old age and become rejuvenated,77 but it also attains
greater growth. When it fulfills its determined limit, it is consumed into
itself, as Taautos himself similarly narrates in his sacred writings.
Therefore, this animal is included in the rites and mysteries.”78
The excerpt from Philo of Byblos, regardless of his sources, is of
paradigmatic importance for us. First, it informs us of the mythology
and symbolic theology of the contemporaries of the Fourth Evangelist.
Second, there can be no doubt that this perspective of the serpent was
thought to belong not only to the Greeks, Syrians, Egyptians, but also
to the Phoenicians. Third, and most important, the serpent was lauded
for its ability to symbolize life without end (Pos. 27), new life (Pos. 20),
rejuvenation (Pos. 26), and immortality (Pos. 27).
The Fourth Evangelist and those in his circle, community, or
school, were reminded almost daily that the serpent symbolized
immortality, reincarnation, and perhaps resurrection (Pos. 27). Since
John 3:14–15 does portray Jesus as a type of the serpent raised up by
Moses, it is imperative to explore the possibility of a remnant of
ophidian Christology in the Fourth Gospel. Is it unlikely that the Fourth
Evangelist and those in the Johannine circle might have been
influenced by ophidian symbolism? Surely serpent symbology may
have been intended or seen in such words as the following: “I am the
way, the truth and the life” (14:6). And also “I am the resurrection and
the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and
whoever lives and believes in me shall never die” (11:25). The Fourth
Evangelist’s favorite word for life is . While Mark uses the noun
four times, Matthew seven, and Luke five, he uses it thirty-six times.79
Since in the Evangelist’s time the serpent was the quintessential
symbol for “life” (Pos. 20), is one to be blind to possible ophidian
symbolism in this noun?
A study of the serpent at Pompeii helps us grasp the culture of the
Fourth Evangelist.80 The serpent was extremely popular at Pompeii. It
looms large in murals painted on the outside walls of houses. It
appears within houses in small temples. It defines elegant gold rings,
bracelets, and armlets. At Pompeii there was a cult of the serpent (see
Appendix III). The serpent almost always symbolized life (Pos. 20),
beauty (Pos. 4), and protection (Pos. 6) at Pompeii. In 79 CE, Pompeii
was destroyed; what remains helps us contemplate the world of
serpent symbolism that shaped the Fourth Evangelist’s symbolism.
In light of what we have learned already about the concept and
symbolism of the serpent in the first century CE, and along with the
Fourth Evangelist’s accurate knowledge of the pools in and around
Jerusalem, it is necessary to think about the possible meaning of “the
Serpents’ Pool” in Jerusalem. This statement needs unpacking.
The Fourth Evangelist alone of all the ancient authors knows about
a pool in Jerusalem with five porticoes. Not too long ago Johannine
experts concluded that the Fourth Evangelist could not have known
about Jerusalem since he describes a pool that no ancient historian
mentions and one that was apparently five-sided.81 That is significant
since there were no pentagons in antiquity. Now, archaeologists have
unearthed a pool that is exactly where the Fourth Evangelist places
this monumental structure. It is “by the Sheep Gate” (Jn 5:2). The pool
dates from the early Roman Period, and it antedates Hadrian. Its
construction is according to the Fourth Evangelist’s description. It has
four porticoes on each side of a rectangle and a portico between two
pools; one of the pools is in the south and the other in the north. Thus,
the area boasts five porticoes, but only four sides. The Fourth
Evangelist knows about “the Pool of Bethzatha [Bethesda, or
Bethsaida]” (Jn 5:2).
Did the Fourth Evangelist also know about “the Pool of the
Serpents” that is mentioned by Josephus?82 Where was this
purification pool?83 Why was it linked with “serpents”? What does the
Pool of the Serpents inform us about serpents and cults in Jerusalem
during the lifetime of Jesus and that of the Fourth Evangelist? These
are questions that need deep examination; it is clear now that at
Bethzatha there was a shrine to Asclepius. Was there a cult of the
serpents near or in the Pool of the Serpents? How significant and
influential was serpent symbolism in Jerusalem before 135/ 36, when it
became a Roman city?
Before proceeding further to examine the theological symbolism of
the key words in John 3:14–15—with our focus on the symbolism of
the serpent—we should attend to the meaning poured into the
grammar and the syntax by the Evangelist.
Grammar. Both in English and in Greek grammar “as” ( ) and
“so” ( ) indicate a comparison of a word (noun, adjective, or verb),
phrase, or clause.84
If there is no discussion of the relation between Jesus and the
serpent, it is irrelevant who or what was on the cross. That makes a
travesty of the Fourth Evangelist’s theology. He is famous for the
words: “The Word became flesh and tented among us” (1:14).
Docetic Christology may be reflected in the myopic focus only on
the verb “to lift up.” The Fourth Evangelist also was interested in the
“who” and “why” of the One lifted up on the cross. The One on the
cross was the Son of Man, Jesus, the Son of the Father, who is
moving back to where he originated: above. The full drama of sending
(a clear Johannine motif) is climaxed as Jesus ascends from the earth
on the cross. And the full story is one of salvation for all humankind.
The moment of death is the moment of life; those who know ophidian
symbology will find an echo of it here.
The leading commentators, as we have just seen, assume that “as”
denotes only the verb. Grammatically, it can describe the verb, but it
can also define a verb with a noun, or a clause. One must argue which
of these was probably intended by the implied author or
comprehended by the reader.
It seems unlikely that the stress is placed only on “as” lifted up. The
Fourth Evangelist did not put the adverb “as” before the verb both
times; in the second clause he changed the verb from the active to the
passive voice. He did not write “as lifted up … so lifted up.” If he had,
then the adverb would govern the verb. The Fourth Evangelists is a
careful writer; he wrote: “And as Moses lifted up … so to be lifted up it
is necessary.”
The Fourth Evangelist three times mentions Jesus’ being “lifted up”
(3:14, 8:28, and 12:32–34). Too many commentators assume or even
argue that the verb refers only to Jesus’ being lifted up on the cross.
The argument is very impressive.85 In 8:28, Jesus tells “the Pharisees”
that they “will lift up the Son of Man.” That cannot refer to God’s
exaltation of Jesus as in Acts 2:33 and 5:31. In 12:32–34, Jesus
states: “[W]hen I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all to myself.”
The Evangelist adds: “He said this to show by what death he was
about to die.” The meaning of the verb “lifted up” in 8:28 and in 12:32–
34 clearly refers to Jesus’ death. Do they provide the only, or best,
basis for understanding 3:14?
Should we read 8:28 and 12:32–34 back into 3:14? That method
violates the integrity of chapter 3 and misses the double entendre:
Jesus was lifted up on the cross and thereby exalted on his way to
heaven and back to his Father. As T. Zahn explained in 1921 in his
Das Evangelium des Johannes: “[T]he lifting up is to be understood as
the elevation into heaven, the return of Jesus from the earthly world to
the otherworldly realm of God.”86 It must be stressed again, against
the tide of recent research, that “to lift up” in the Fourth Gospel does
not denote only lifting up on the cross; it is a lifting up on the cross that
symbolizes Jesus’ exaltation and return to heaven. R. Schnackenburg
stressed this point clearly: “The uplifted serpent in the wilderness
appears typologically for the cross and throughout [for Jesus’]
heavenly glory” (“[W]ie es die eherne Schlange in der Wiiste
typologisch anzeigt, am Kreuz, und dann und dadurch auch in der
himmlischen Herrlichkeit”). 87 A study of the ophidian symbolism in
3:14 helps protect the exegete from missing the full meaning of the
verse.
Immediate context determines a text’s meaning. The context of
3:14 thus is shaped by 3:13. That verse clarified that the Son of Man,
as R. Bultmann observed, is “the one who has come down from
heaven and who must again be exalted. That is stated explicitly in vv.
14f.” Bultmann continued: “V. 14 mentions only the exaltation;88 this is
the fulfilment of the Son’s mission, and by this alone is it made
effective (cp. 13.31f.), for it is the exalted, glorified Lord who is the
object of Christian faith. Yet the necessary condition of his exaltation is
his humiliation, as v. 13 has already said.89 The saving event
embraces both these elements.”90 As M. Hengel points out, the Fourth
Evangelist makes more references to Jesus’ death as salvation than
the other Gospels.91 Beasley-Murray wisely discloses the “simple fact
that the Evangelist views the death and resurrection of Christ as
indissolubly one. The redemptive event is the crucifixion-resurrection
of the Son.”92 H. Weder rightly saw that the “point de comparison” is
not primarily to the “le mode” of this elevation; verse 15 indicates “le
sens” of this elevation: the elevation of the Son of Man.93 Likewise, F.
Hahn, in his Theologie des Neuen Testaments, stresses correctly that
the Son of Man in Johannine Christology is revealed to be shaped by
“lifting up” and “glorification.”94 Thus, certainly not crucifixion alone is
meant by verse 14; both crucifixion and resurrection collapse into one
event for the Fourth Evangelist: the rising up of the Son of Man as an
antitype of Moses’ serpent.95
In On the Spirit, St. Basil “the Great” (c. 330–379) rightly perceived
that the serpent in John 3 typified Christ. Note his reflections on
typology: “The manna is a type of the living bread that came down
from heaven; and the serpent on the standard of the passion of
salvation accomplished by means of the cross, wherefore they who
even looked thereon were pre-served.”96 Though Augustine missed
the positive symbolism of the serpent, he did see the typology: the
serpent lifted up signifies Jesus’ death on the cross. Augustine argues
that as death came into the world through the serpent, its abolishment
was fittingly symbolized by the image of a serpent on the cross
(Augustine, On the Gospel of St. John 12.11–13; cf. Augustine, On the
Psalms 74.4 and 119.122).
Some scholars have also seen the brilliant typology of the Fourth
Evangelist; though it is missed by the mass of commentators who
simply repeat the threefold claim that 3:14 denotes only Jesus’
crucifixion, that only “lifting up” is implied, and that there is no
connection between the serpent and the Son of Man (in fact, most
commentators tend to ignore the serpent symbolism). Note, however,
these exceptions to the rule: E. Haenchen wisely pointed out that the
Fourth Evangelist avoids mentioning the crucifixion, except in the
Passion narrative. He refers rather to “its divine meaning, the
exaltation.”97 Long ago in his commentary on the Fourth Gospel, B. F.
Westcott astutely perceived that the words of 3:14 “imply an exaltation
in appearance far different from that of the triumphant king, and yet in
its true issue leading to a divine glory. This passage through the
elevation on the cross to the elevation on the right hand of God was a
necessity … arising out of the laws of the divine nature.”98 As R. J.
Burns states, in “Jesus and the Bronze Serpent,” the Evangelist uses
“lifting up” to refer “not only to Jesus’ death by crucifixion but to his
resurrection as well.”99 Beasley-Murray correctly claims: “To the lifting
up of the snake on a pole that all may live corresponds the lifting up of
the Son of Man on a cross that all may have eternal life.”100
The narrator indicates what is lifted up (active verb for serpent and
passive verb for Son of Man). One should not exclude what is lifted up:
Moses’ serpent and the Son of Man, Jesus. As Bernard stated: “Those
who looked up in faith upon the brazen serpent uplifted before them
were delivered from death by poison; those who look upon the
Crucified, lifted up on the cross, shall be delivered from the death of
sin.”101 Neither the author of Numbers 21 nor the Fourth Evangelist
expected the reader to look only at the verb; such a possibility seems
quite unlikely. Yet contemporary Johannine experts conclude, en
masse, despite the brilliant insights of earlier commentators and the
vast weight of serpent symbolism, that the emphasis is only on the
verb “lifting up.”
While the eyes of the Hebrews who trust God’s promise look up at
the copper serpent and the gaze of Johannine Jews is on Jesus, the
Son of Man and Son of God, there is a difference. In the Septuagint of
Numbers 21:8, the stake on which the copper serpent is raised is
called a “sign” (probably of God’s healing power).102 The “signs” in the
Fourth Gospel, Jesus’ mighty works (Jn 5:31–47), correspond to the
miracles of the Synoptics. These signs (td anLieia [Jn 2:23]) witness to
Jesus who is not a sign but the One to whom the signs point,
according to God’s plan (Jn 2:11, 23; 3:2; etc.). In light of this insight
and recognizing the stress on Jesus’ incarnation and physical nature
(only in John does Jesus collapse from exhaustion and thirst and cry),
it seems difficult to comprehend how Johannine experts can miss the
narrative force of John 3:13–16; the Fourth Evangelist is not interested
only in drawing attention to the verb “lifting up.” He is focusing the
readers’ mind on things above (Jn 3:12) and proclaiming that Jesus’
crucifixion was not a failure but his hour of triumph. While Luke
trifurcates the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension, the Fourth
Evangelist stresses, against polemical Jewish groups (some of whom
control the local synagogue), that Jesus’ crucifixion was his exaltation
(resurrection and ascension tend to be refocused on Jesus’ lifting up
on the cross; he will return to his Father finally, according to Jn 20).
As we intimated and is well known, the Fourth Evangelist stresses
more than the Synoptics that Jesus is God’s Son (cf. esp. Jn 3:13–16).
More in the Fourth Gospel than elsewhere in the New Testament
Jesus is portrayed as talking about God as Father (cf. esp. Jn 5:19–
47). To comprehend that for the Fourth Evangelist Jesus is God’s Son
brings us back into first-century serpent symbolism. As we have seen,
Caesar Augustus was portrayed as a god’s son because a serpent
impregnated his mother.
Theological aspects of the grammar. The simile includes a
necessity: it is necessary ( ) for the Son of Man to be lifted up. The
implied author appeals to the divine plan of salvation and employs the
word “necessary,” which is used in apocalyptic literature to stress that
certain events must take place before the End, when all normal time
will cease. The reader already knows, or will learn from the narrative,
that Jesus will die outside the walls of the Holy City, Jerusalem.
Again, commentators have assumed or argued that the very use of
the word “necessary” ( ) makes it obvious that 3:14 must refer only to
Jesus’ crucifixion. They point to the use of “necessary” in 3:13 and
12:34. The use of “necessary” ( ) in the Fourth Gospel may prove
them wrong. According to the Fourth Evangelist, the Scriptures prove
that “it is necessary [ ] for him [Jesus] to rise from the dead.” (20:9)
J. Frey rightly points out that Jesus goes willingly to his death,
according to the Fourth Evangelist. Jesus’ death is unlike the concept
of the hero who dies as an example, and it is not grounded in the evils
of men. Jesus’ crucifixion is a necessity; it is according to Scripture
and according to God’s will and love.103
What is parallel to “in the wilderness”? This dative phrase is
followed by the dative phrase in the result clause: “in him.” Hence, the
theological thought develops out of the grammar: As the believers who
looked up at the serpent lived in the wilderness, so all believers who
look up to the exalted (upraised) Christ will live eternally “in him” (
). Grammar indicates a connection between serpent in the wilderness
and the Son of Man, Jesus.
More may be learned by the implied author’s use of “must” or “it is
necessary” ( ). The Fourth Evangelist did not write: “[A]s Moses lifted
up, so the Son of Man is lifted up.” The implied author draws attention
to the connection between the serpent and the Son of Man. According
to the author of Numbers 21, it is neither Moses’ act of lifting up that
saves the people nor the serpent on the pole. What saves the people
in Numbers and the Fourth Gospel is God, and this saving power is
available because of the commitment of the people who follow God’s
directive to look to the serpent.
The Fourth Evangelist does clarify the importance of believing (a
fundamental word emphasized by him), but the concept is not entirely
new in the typology; it seems implied in Numbers 21. What is crucial in
Numbers is the commitment or belief of the people that God will save
them when they look up to the serpent as a sign of God’s power to
save. In the Fourth Gospel, the Son of Man, Jesus, tends to take on
the role of God. That is, it can be argued that Jesus is the one who
saves through his incarnation and crucifixion. Note John 3:16, which
follows 3:14–15: “For God so [ ] loved the world that he gave his
only son, that all who are believing in him may not perish but have
eternal life.” This verse (16) begins with “so;” thus, the parallel thought
continues in Greek. Note the following constructions:
And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,
So it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up,
In order that all who are believing in him may have eternal life;
So did God love the world that he gave his unique son
In order that all who are believing in him may not perish but may have eternal life. [3:14–16}

By seeing the serpent as representing the Son of Man, one

comprehends the intention of the Fourth Evangelist. No New
Testament author, except perhaps Paul, puts Jesus in such a central
focus. The Evangelist’s theology is focused to serve his Christology.
It seems difficult to agree that the one who wrote “and the Word
became flesh and tented among us” (Jn 1:14) would have intended to
stress only the verb and not the verb and the noun; that is, only the
lifting up and not the lifting up of the Son of Man. In the Fourth
Evangelist’s time and culture (whether he wrote in Jerusalem,
Alexandria, or Ephesus), the serpent symbolized precisely what the
Son symbolizes in the Fourth Gospel: life (Pos. 20) and eternal life
(Pos. 27). Hence, perceiving this point, one begins to see that the
intention of the Evangelist is most likely to draw a parallel between the
serpent and the Son of Man, Jesus.
The “lifting up” is crucial and should not be minimized. The Fourth
Evangelist’s own Christology does become apparent when he stresses
that the Son of Man must be lifted up (exalted) on the cross. The full
meaning must not be lost by looking only at the verb and not the
person. The Fourth Gospel is “good news” about a person. That
means the image of Christ or Son of Man in Numbers, God’s
foreshadowing of Christ according to the Fourth Evangelist, is the
serpent that symbolizes God’s salvation.104 As Saint Augustine (354–
430) stated, in his homilies on the Fourth Gospel: “Just as those who
looked on that serpent perished not by the serpent’s bites, so they who
look in faith on Christ’s death are healed from the bites of sin.” One
cannot look at a verb; one looks up at the serpent or up at the Son of
Man.105
Syntax. The syntax is attractive and impressive, as we have
already seen. The simile is followed by a purpose clause, which
signifies the necessary result of the comparison. The clause is a result
clause: “in order that [ ] all [ ] who are believing [ ] in him
may have eternal life [ ].”
Attribution. John 3:14–15 is attributed to Jesus. As Johann Philipp
Gabler stressed, we must “distinguish whether the Apostle [or
Evangelist] is speaking his own words or those of others.”106 It is clear
that the Evangelist wanted to stress that the interpretation of Numbers
21 was authoritative; it was not his own creation. It was divinely
sanctioned. The Fourth Evangelist attributes the claim to the only One-
from-above, Jesus. Jesus is informing “a ruler of the Jews” that the
Son of Man must be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent.
Setting. Verses 14 and 15 are placed at a crucial point in the
narrative. Jesus has been conversing with Nicodemus and the two
verses contain the closure of that pivotally significant dialogue;107 that
is, it comes both as the climax of Jesus’ words to this Pharisee and at
the close of the first revelatory discourse of Jesus—a pattern of
thought that characterizes and distinguishes the Fourth Gospel. And
3:14–15 immediately precedes one of the most stunning passages in
the New Testament, which bears repeating since it concludes the
thought: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth in him would not perish but have eternal
life” (3:16; KJV). It is in this narrative context that the Fourth Evangelist
turned to Numbers 21 to explain that Jesus must be lifted up as Moses
lifted up the serpent. A penetrating analysis of the Greek syntax helps
clarify that serpent symbolism discloses the point that Jesus is the one
who brings “eternal life” (3:14).
Poetry and Parallelismus Membrorum. As we have seen, the
Greek (and the English) sentence employs the adverb as a
conjunction to begin a sentence. “As” does not indicate only a
comparison between the verb “lift up” or the noun “Son of Man.” The
full sentence needs to be observed. By looking at the full sentence, we
should ask if the Evangelist has emphasized a major Christological
point by using a simile that compares the Son of Man with the serpent.
To reverse the order of the clauses makes the point perhaps more
apparent to those who have memorized the verse:
The Son of Man must be lifted up
As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness.

Often lost or unobserved by New Testament critics is the poetic

structure of John 3:14–15. The thought is structured harmoniously in
parallel lines of thought so that each word is then echoed by a
following word (parallelismus membrorum). 108 Because repetition (or
echoing) of thought or sound is the heart of all poetry, so parallelism is
the hallmark of poetry in biblical Hebrew and was observed and given
a technical name by R. Lowth in 1753 and 1778.109 Only two psalms
will be cited for clarification of the poetic attractiveness of parallelismus
membrorum.
The first is from Psalm 145:13–14. Here is my translation:
Your kingdom is a kingdom for all eternity,
And your dominion is for all generations.
The Lord upholds all who fall,
And raises up all bowed down.

The thought in line (stichos) one reappears in the second line.110 The
fourfold repetition of “all,” often not represented in translations, helps to
clarify the parallel thoughts. That is, each is a universalistic statement;
it is good for all places, times, and persons.
The second passage is from Psalm 8:
What is man (‘nwsh ) that you are mindful of him,
And the son of man (bn-’dm ) that you care for him?
 [Ps 8:5(4)]

The poetry is crafted so that lines of thought are in parallel lines; the
poetic form is synonymous parallelism (parallelismus membrorum).
The first two beats in each line are synonymous: the “man” in the first
line is synonymous with “the son of man” in the second line. The two
beats at the end of each line are also synonymous: God is “mindful” of
the human and does “care” for him.
The Fourth Evangelist, as M. Hengel demonstrated,111 knew well
the “Old Testament” and its literary forms. It is not a surprise, therefore,
to find poetic forms appearing in the Fourth Gospel, especially in the
words of Jesus. As D. N. Freedman has shown, poetry is central to the
biblical message; prose and poetry can be, and must be,
distinguished.112 The Fourth Evangelist chose parallelismus
membrorum to emphasize the divine words directed by Jesus to
Nicodemus. The poetic form is synonymous. Note the poetic structure
of John 3:14–15, following the Greek order:
And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,
So it is necessary to be lifted up the Son of Man
In order that all who are believing in him may have life eternal.
The parallelism is so clear as to need no discussion. It is also
synonymous. “And as Moses lifted up” is synonymously parallel to “so
it is necessary to be lifted up.” Most important, “the serpent in the
wilderness” is synonymously parallel to “the Son of Man.” The poetic
structure of the passage is carefully structured to clarify the virtual
identity of “the serpent” to “the Son of Man.”
The passage reflects careful thought and composition. Observe
how the Evangelist has constructed his simile:
Numbers Johannine Symbolism
As So it is necessary
Moses [God, according to the divine passive]
lifted up (active) be lifted up (passive)
the serpent (objective case) the Son of Man (objective case)
in the wilderness (dative) [see “in him” in 3:15 (dative)]
The two parallel columns raise the question of the appropriate parallel
to “Moses.” The passive voice “be lifted up” in the Fourth Gospel
needs no ruling noun to specify who is the one who has caused or
allowed the lifting up, but the attentive reader is stimulated to ask:
“Who is the actor?”
Could the passive verb “be lifted up” be a divine passive? When a
passive voice is employed in the New Testament and the antecedent
actor is not clear, the actor is often “God.” Thus, in Mark 16:6, “he has
been raised”113 means that God raised Jesus from the dead. God is
the actor. That meaning was most likely a common theme of the early
Christian preachers and prophets; it makes excellent sense here in the
Fourth Gospel, if we take “he was lifted up” ( ) to denote not only
crucifixion but also, as its literal meaning indicates, “to be exalted.”114
God has exalted Jesus and raised him “above.” This exegesis rings
harmoniously with the opening play on the double meaning of anôthen
( ): “again” and “above,” since Jesus has informed the ruler of the
Judeans,115 Nicodemus, that he must be born “from above.”
Nicodemus misunderstands; that is, one of the great teachers of the
Judeans is one who is characterized by misunderstanding.116
Nicodemus thinks Jesus means he must be born “again;” that is, to
enter again into his mother’s womb. The use of one adverb, which
signifies not only “again” but also “above,” makes sense within the
context of John 3:12–15; note the structure of thought:117
descended from
Earthly things Moses lifted up the serpent
heaven
Heavenly The Son of Man must be lifted
ascended into heaven
things up
Again the “serpent” and “the Son of Man” are parallel. In this context,
the lifting up on the cross is the Evangelist’s method of presenting
Jesus’ highest hour on earth. The unbelievers see only a dying man;
the Sons of Light see the exaltation of Jesus, who is from above and
returning again to his Father.118
The issue, however, is more complex. The verb “be lifted up” may
also have a literal meaning. But who would be those who literally lift
Jesus up on the cross? That is the unique meaning given to this verb (
) by the Fourth Evangelist. It means “lift up” or “raise.” Only in the
Fourth Gospel does the verb imply crucifixion. As we have seen, the
verb is used twice in 3:14, first as an active verb and then as a passive
verb.
Since the parallel is “Moses,” the most likely suggestion would be
that those who crucify Jesus are those who belong to Moses or the
followers of Moses. Does that possible interpretation make sense for
Johannine theology? The name “Moses” appears more often in the
Fourth Gospel than any other Gospel (7/8/10/12).119 It is clear from
5:46 that Jesus’ antagonists are those who set their hope on Moses;
quite significantly they are also those who refuse to come to Jesus that
they “may have life” (5:40). It is easy to hear an echo from 3:15—
specifically, all those who look to Jesus as the upraised one, like the
serpent in the wilderness, “will have eternal life.”
Our search for the ones who, according to the Fourth Evangelist,
lift Jesus up on the cross is rewarded by the Judeans’ declaration in
9:28: “We are disciples of Moses.”120 Here the Fourth Evangelist
makes it unmistakably clear that Jesus’ opponents are “the disciples of
Moses.” After this verse the name “Moses” never appears again in the
Fourth Gospel. It is at least conceivable that this use of words is
intentional by our gifted writer.
The antagonists in the Johannine drama are specified. The
disciples of Jesus (9:27) are opposed by the disciples of Moses (9:28).
Moreover, this clarification comes in the famous and pivotal passage in
which the Judeans caustically interrogate the man born blind because
Jesus healed him on the Sabbath. Observe that “the disciples of
Moses” (9:28) claim: “We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as
for this man, we do not know where he comes from” (9:29). The
members of the Johannine circle or school and the one who
comprehends the Fourth Gospel know where Jesus “comes from:”
Jesus is “from above.”
The irony of 9:29 is simply another example of the author’s
rhetorical skill. He has mastered the art of irony and
misunderstanding.121 These two aspects of the Fourth Evangelist’s
narrative art are first presented in the Fourth Gospel in the dialogue
between Jesus and Nicodemus that ends in 3:15.122 Jesus speaks not
only about anôthen, he also speaks about the Son of Man being a type
of the serpent raised up by Moses.
How do we locate irony in a document? As G. R. O’Day points out:
“ [S]ignals to irony are often difficult to detect, because the essence of
irony is to be indirect. A straightforward ironic statement would be a
contradiction in terms. The ironist’s challenge is to be clear without
being evident, to say something without really saying it.”123 Herein lies
the problem: the Fourth Gospel does contain narrative irony, but we
cannot be certain where it is and where it is not.
How should we recognize irony in the Fourth Gospel? One of the
best means is to feel the jar caused by a contradiction when the
symbolic is taken literally. This happens in the narrative when one of
the dramatis personae misses the symbolical meaning.124 Examples
help clarify this point; here are the clearest examples of irony revealed
through the narrative of the Fourth Gospel:
2:21–22 Jesus tells the Judeans that the Temple if destroyed will be raised; they understand
him to mean the Temple. (In this first appearance of irony, the narrator tends to clarify what
he means by the use of irony.)
3:4 Jesus tells Nicodemus he must be born “anew,” anôthen; Nicodemus thinks Jesus means
to he must reenter the womb.
4:15 Jesus offers the Samaritan woman “living water;” she thinks she will not need to return to
the well.
7:27 Some Jerusalemites claim Jesus may not be the Christ because they know his origins.
11:50 Caiaphas prophesies that it is expedient for one to die for the people (laos).

Irony and misunderstanding help the Fourth Evangelist make

several major theological points. Misunderstanding is an aspect of
irony; it clarifies revelation.125 Along with the Evangelist and Jesus,
only the reader who knows the “end” of the story and has received the
enlightening insights of the Holy Spirit can understand the drama of
salvation. The representative disciple seems to be Thomas, who
provides the final and perfect confession. The evangelist links 20:29
with 1:1. As Moody Smith states: “[W]hat is said in 1:1 about the word
is based on post-resurrection knowledge and confession of Jesus.”126
For the Evangelist, irony and misunderstanding are not primarily
rhetorical techniques. They are chosen to reveal that only one who is
born from above can comprehend why it is necessary for the Son of
Man to be lifted up like Moses’ serpent.
Moses, who raised the serpent in the wilderness, cannot be
contrasted with Jesus in the Fourth Gospel. Moses is the one through
whom God gave the Torah (Law) according to 1:17 and 7:19. He is the
one through whom God gave the manna (6:37).127 This verse is a
significant link with 3:14–15; both interpret the Torah so that Moses is
seen foreshadowing the ministry of Jesus.128 Most important, not only
does Jesus refer to what Moses did, according to 3:14–15, but the
Fourth Evangelist also stresses that Moses wrote the Pentateuch.
Philip announces to Nathanael: “We have found him of whom Moses
in the Torah … wrote” (1:45). This episode precedes and helps frame
the theologoumenon of 3:14–15.
Who then raises Jesus up onto the cross in the Fourth Gospel? In
Mark we come across the clause: “And they crucified him” (15:24). To
whom does this refer? It seems to refer back to “the soldiers” (15:16)
who are emphasized in the Markan narrative because they are
associated with “the whole battalion” (15:16). In the Fourth Gospel we
also find the possibly ambiguous verbal clause: “They crucified him”
(19:18). To whom does the pronoun “They” refer? It is remarkable to
discover that the antecedent is “the Judeans” in 19:14. John has
interpolated into an earlier story of the Passion, somewhat represented
by Mark, an account of the Judeans and the chief priests who are
explicitly mentioned in 19:15.
The Johannine addition to the Passion occupies two significant
sections: the Judaeans’ altercation with Pilate in 19:12–16 and Jesus’
crucifixion in 19:17–22. In neither of these sections are the Roman
“soldiers” mentioned.
According to John 19:16, Pilate hands Jesus over “to them to be
crucified.” Who are these people? They are the “chief priests”
mentioned in 19:15. According to 19:20, “They crucified him.”
According to John 19:23, it is “the soldiers” who “crucified Jesus.” The
“soldiers” are rein-troduced in this verse. They had not been
mentioned since 19:2. But who are “they” in John 19:18? The context
of this verse gives the impression that it is the “chief priests” and “the
Judeans.” It is none other than “the chief priests and the officers” who,
according to the Fourth Evangelist, cry out to Pilate: “Crucify him,
crucify him!” (19:6).129
How do we explain this tension in the Johnanine account? Who
crucified Jesus? The Evangelist again mentions “the soldiers;” it is
they who are said to have crucified Jesus (19:23). The Johannine
narrative implies that the disciples of Moses, the Judeans, are those
who crucified Jesus (unfortunately, the noun for “Judeans” is usually
translated simply, and incorrectly, as “Jews”). The point is not lost on
all who have already grasped that Nicodemus is none other than “a
ruler of the Judeans” (3:1). Hence, we see the thought implicit in the
carefully structured sentence in 3:14: “And as Moses lifted up the
serpent in the wilderness, so it is necessary for the Son of Man to be
lifted up.” The Fourth Evangelist has clarified through his narrative
those who have lifted up the serpent, Jesus, on the cross. It is the
Judean leaders. And he has implied who has “exalted” Jesus. It is his
Father, God.
In summation, it seems shocking to imagine that the passive verb
“be lifted up”—which refers, according to most commentators, only to
Jesus’ crucifixion—can be a divine passive. In one sense, the verb “be
lifted up” is a divine passive denoting the divine plan (“it is necessary”)
and the exaltation by God. In another sense, the passive verb reflects
the reason for the crucifixion. It was due to the Judeans.
Most important for our present research, a study of the poetry of
John 3:14–15 establishes the parallel between “the serpent” and “the
Son of Man.” Moreover, grammar also points out this fact. Both
“serpent” and “the Son of Man” are clearly in the objective case
(accusatives) and conclude the thought:
And as Moses lifted up ( ) the serpent in the wilderness,
So it is necessary to be lifted up ( ) the Son of Man.
Moreover, grammar, syntax, and poetic structure support the
conclusion that the Fourth Evangelist has paralleled the serpent in
thought and symbolism with the Son of Man.130
In his Reply to Faustus the Manichaean, Augustine perceived this
insight: “Thus also, the serpent hung on the pole was intended to show
that Christ did not feign death, but that the real death into which the
serpent by his fatal counsel cast mankind was hung on the cross of
Christ’s passion.”131 What Augustine missed was the positive serpent
symbolism: The uplifted serpent according to the authors of Numbers
21 and John 3 symbolized life.
According to the Fourth Evangelist, the Son of Man is Jesus. Recall
John 9:35–37, in which Jesus tells the man born blind, who now not
only sees, but perceives, that Jesus is the Son of Man. Thus, the
serpent is a type of Jesus, the Christ according to the Fourth
Evangelist. Ophidian symbolism helps ground the insight since the
serpent symbolizes liberation from death and new life (Pos. 20),132 as
well as rejuvenation (Pos. 26) and immortality and even resurrection
(Pos. 27).
John 3:14–15 is a significant passage. The unit is carefully
composed, and most likely reflects long and in-depth discussions in
the Johannine community of the meaning of Jesus’ death and his
relation to Moses. John 3:14–15 is shaped by a sociological context
that has separated Johannine Jews from those who claim to be Moses’
disciples. The latter introduce the Johannine narrative and are echoed
repeatedly throughout the narrative theology that follows after 3:14–15.
What is the meaning of “in the wilderness” in John 3:14? A focus on
3:14 awakens something that the Jews in the Johannine community
knew well. The phrase “in the wilderness,” would, most likely, remind
them of the heading of the fourth book of the Torah (= Pentateuch),
which we call “The book of Numbers.” The opening words of the
Hebrew text are: “And Yahweh spoke to Moses.” These are followed
by: “In the wilderness.”133 This observation reveals another careful use
of words by the Fourth Evangelist, and it would certainly have been
noticed by at least some of the Jews who read the Fourth Gospel and
the Book of Numbers as Scripture.
More than one typology from Numbers is evident in the Fourth
Gospel.134 The serpent was a type and Jesus the antitype; that seems
indisputable.135 This typology from Numbers is developed within a
larger typology. The final editor of Numbers recounts, with a ritual
celebration of God’s mighty acts in history, how Israel journeyed
through the wilderness successfully. They lived in tents. God’s
tabernacle was a tent. The people saw God’s glory as a cloud by day
and fire by night. Such imagery has shaped the Prologue of the
Gospel of John, especially in the climactic verse 14: “And the Word
flesh became, and pitched a tent among us. And we beheld his glory.”
The continuing presence of God, God’s glory, and the imagery of God
tenting among us were most likely derived by the Fourth Evangelist
from the Book of Numbers. It is no wonder, then, that he was fond of
this book of Scripture and obtained from it his typology of the serpent
for Jesus’ final day on earth: Jesus’ crucifixion was also his exaltation.
The Book of Numbers apparently supplied two journeys for the
Fourth Evangelist. First, it supplied the concept of Jesus’ journey from
above to the earth and his return above to the Father. Second, it
provided a paradigm: the journey of Jesus’ followers through the
wilderness of life, and drinking “the living water” that provides eternal
life. Thus, Jesus’ followers were to perceive that Jesus’ way led to the
necessity of the cross on which Jesus was exalted like a serpent (the
symbol of new life) and from which he was freed to return to his
Father.
The Book of Numbers is not the only source of the Evangelist’s
thought in 3:14. The verb “to lift up” does not derive from Numbers 21.
The Fourth Evangelist inherited it either from the kerygmata in the
Palestinian Jesus Movement or from a study (perhaps his own) of
Isaiah 52:13 (esp. in the LXX): “My Servant … shall be exalted” or
“lifted up.”136 The fact that the passages in the Fourth Gospel in which
the verb “to lift up” occurs (3:1415, 8:28, 12:32–34) are linked
traditionally with the Synoptic passion predictions (viz. Mk 831, 9:31,
10:32–33) should not suggest that the Fourth Gospel is dependent on
the Synoptics. All four Gospels were preceded not only by the early
proclamations (kerygmata) but also by the beginnings of teaching and
research (didache) in the Palestinian Jesus Movement.
One final word on “as” ( ) and “so” ( ) in John 3:14 seems
prudent. We have seen that “as” most likely modifies a clause: “And as
Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so it is necessary for the
Son of Man to be lifted up.”
This grammatical construction is used again by the Fourth
Evangelist in 5:21 and 5:26. Each time it seems to echo the leading
thought of 3:14–15; that is, this unit of thought stresses that Jesus is
the source of life. Note the construction:
For as ( ) the Father raises the dead and gives life ( ),
So ( ) also the Son gives life ( ) to whom he will. [5:21]
For as ( ) the Father has life (Zwi]v) in himself,
So ( ) he has given to the Son also to have life ( ) in himself. [5:26]

These verses seem to echo the thought of 3:14–15; that is, they stress
that belief that resurrected life is possible now through Jesus (cf. Jn
5:21 and 25). He, Jesus, conveys to the Johannine Jews what the
symbol of the serpent in the Asclepian and other cults conveyed to
their devotees. The serpent symbolized life (Pos. 20), renewed life
(Pos. 26), and immortality and resurrection (Pos. 27) for the Johannine
Jews. They shall have eternal life; the conclusion of the result clause
in John 3:15, “that all who are believing in him may have eternal life.”
Son of Man Traditions in John. The key Christological term in
John 3:14–15 is “the Son of Man.” As with the Synoptics (Mt, Mk, and
Lk) so with the Fourth Gospel, Jesus is portrayed as referring to
himself as the Son of Man. The Son of Man concept, not a title,
appears for the first time in Daniel 7:13. The seer Daniel has a dream
in which he sees “one like a Son of Man” who is “coming with the
clouds of heaven.” Scholars have assumed this figure represents
collective Israel, but Middle Aramaic and the picture of one coming on
clouds seem to indicate a cosmic person. This mysterious vision or
dream in Daniel influenced the author of the Parables of Enoch (1 En
37–71). We now know that this text was composed by a Jew and
perhaps sometime in the late first century BCE.137 The term, “Son of
Man,” is attributed to Enoch, but only in the conclusion of chapter 71.
The Fourth Evangelist inherits this traditional designation, but only
after it had become an established title within the Palestinian Jesus
Movement. E. Ruckstuhl rightly perceives that the Son of Man title in
the Fourth Gospel does not originate in Gnostic circles; for him, it
appeared within early Jewish wisdom traditions.138 O. Hofius correctly
stresses that the theme of John 3:14–15 is the way of the Son of Man
(much more than the crucifixion, as we have seen).139
More likely these wisdom traditions were shaped within Jewish
apocalypticism, since 1 Enoch is one of the most distinctive
apocalypses. The apocalyptic background of the Son of Man in the
Fourth Gospel is shown by the verses immediately preceding our
central passage, 3:14–15. The term “Son of Man” first appears in the
Fourth Gospel in 1:51. The meaning is clearly apocalyptic; the reader
is informed he will see “heaven opened and the angels of God
ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” Just prior to 3:14,
the reader is informed that no one has ascended into heaven; this is a
rejection of the claims made in many Jewish apocalypses. The Fourth
Evangelist then claims that the only one from above is the one “who
descended from heaven: the Son of Man” (3:13).
The Fourth Evangelist is stressing that the Son of Man—assumed
to be identical with the Word defined in 1:1–18—is the bearer of God’s
wisdom. The Son of Man brings God’s wisdom to earth.140 Since the
serpent, especially in Judaism and in Jesus’ teachings, is the symbol
of wisdom (Pos. 18), the Evangelist may have held some ophidian
image here. Most likely, many of his readers will know that the serpent
symbolizes wisdom.
The cosmic dimension of the Son of Man in Daniel, 1 Enoch, and
the Fourth Gospel is clear and needs no elaboration. According to the
Fourth Evangelist, the Son of Man, Jesus, is from “above” and is
returning to his Father who is above. Perhaps the Fourth Evangelist
did not intend in 3:14–15 to bring out the cosmic dimension of the
serpent, but we should not deny that he portrayed the Son of Man, as
the serpent, being “lifted up.” If he did not initially intend to bring
forward the cosmic dimension of ophidian symbolism, many of his
readers would most likely understand that the Son of Man, as the
serpent that is “lifted up,” has cosmic power (Pos. 8).
What are the consequences of such reflection? Two are most
important. First, the reflection is significant because it exposes the
error of the biblical experts who refuse to see any relation between
Jesus (the Son of Man) and the serpent reflected or explicit in John
3:14. Perhaps these scholars assumed that God was never
symbolized as, or by, a serpent in the Hebrew Bible. The serpent was
indeed a symbol of God. According to Numbers 21, the upraised
copper serpent signifies not only the power of God to heal; it also
symbolized the presence of God. Those who lifted up their eyes for
God’s help received it, because the upraised serpent symbolized the
presence of God. As L. Ginzberg stated: “It was not, however, the sight
of the serpent of brass that brought with it healing and life; but
whenever those who had been bitten by the serpents raised their eyes
upward and subordinated their hearts to the will of the Heavenly father,
they were healed.”141 Likewise, the passage in 2 Kings 18 points back
to Numbers 21; both use the serpent as a symbol of God. Those who
worshipped God or Yahweh through Nechushtan (or even worshipped
the image directly) most likely would have taken this image of a
serpent as a symbol of the Creator (Pos. 7) and Protector (Pos. 6). As
Augustine said, in The City of God, Moses’ serpent, “a symbol of the
crucifixion of death,” was preserved in memory by the Hebrews and
Israelites and later was “worshipped by the mistaken people as an idol,
and was destroyed by the pious and God-fearing king Hezekiah, much
to his credit.”142
The TANAKH (Old Testament) records that Moses, through divine
intervention, was able to turn his rod into a serpent. The serpent ( )
clearly signals that “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the
God of Jacob, has appeared to you” (Exod 4:5).
The farsighted vision of the Creator degenerated into the
nearsighted worship of Nechushtan. Hezekiah wisely had the image of
the serpent taken from the Temple. The Seventh Ecumenical Council
seems rightly to have understood that those in Jerusalem
(anachronistically called “Jews”), or at least some of them, began to
worship the symbol of God’s healing. They became idolaters. Note the
wording of Quaestio LVI:
Why was he praised in the Old Testament who broke down the brazen SERPENT(II. Kgs. xviii.
4) which long before Moses had set up on high? Answer: Because the Jews were beginning
an apostasy from the veneration of the true God, venerating that SERPENT as the true God;
and offering to it incense as the Scripture saith. Therefore wishing to cut off this evil, lest it
might spread further, he broke up that SERPENT in order that the Israelites might have no
longer that incentive to idolatry. But before they honoured the SERPENT with the veneration of
adoration, no one was condemned in that respect nor was the SERPENT broken.143

Second, the reflection is significant because it reveals the error of

scholars who assume or conclude that John 3:14–15 refers only to
Jesus’ crucifixion. For example, in Herrenworte im
Johannesevangelium, M. Theobald contends that the focus of the Son
of Man sayings in the Fourth Gospel, “without doubt” (ohne Zweifel), is
on the death of Jesus.144
We have pointed out that crucifixion and exaltation (resurrection)
are also intended in 3:14–15. These crucial verses are framed by the
cosmic dimensions of Jesus, the Son of Man and God’s unique son. In
3:13 the Fourth Evangelist stresses that only the Son of Man has been
in heaven and descended to earth. In 3:16 he again emphasizes the
cosmic dimension of 3:14–15: “For God so loved the cosmos that he
gave his unique Son, that all who are believing in him may not perish
but have eternal life.”
Jesus is intending to teach Nicodemus “heavenly” insights (3:12).
The Fourth Evangelist seeks to inculcate the poetic vision of the
crucifixion, an earthly event, as a heavenly event. Some readers of the
Fourth Gospel, and perhaps the author, might have imagined the cross
of Jesus, symbolized by Moses’ upraised serpent, as the pillar that
once again united heaven and earth (axis mundi) and the way for
Jesus to return to his Father. Perhaps, the Fourth Evangelist imagined
that some believers would comprehend that the cross was Jacob’s
cosmic ladder on which angels ascended and descended upon the
triumphant Son of Man (1:51).
Key Symbols in Johannine Theology. John 3:14–15 contains
some of the Fourth Evangelist’s technical terms (termini technici).
Highly charged with Johannine symbolism are the following: “Moses,”
“lifted up,” “wilderness,” “it is necessary,” “Son of Man,” “all who are
believing,” and “eternal life.” These have already been discussed;
perhaps it is necessary now only to point out the well-known fact that
the Fourth Evangelist puts more stress on the verb “to believe” than
any other New Testament author; it appears eleven times in Matthew,
fourteen in Mark, nine in Luke, but ninety-eight times in the Fourth
Gospel.145
The author of the Epistle of Barnabas, perhaps reading Numbers
21 through the lens of Johannine Christology, emphasizes that if one
were to be healed by the serpent, he must have faith: “Moses said to
them, ‘Whenever one of you … is bitten, let him come to the serpent
that is placed upon the tree, and let him hope, in faith that it though
dead is able to give life, and he shall straightaway be saved.’ “146 It is
likely that the author of the Epistle of Barnabas knew the Fourth
Evangelist’s interpretation of Numbers 21. He adds: “Moses makes a
representation of Jesus” to show that Jesus must suffer, and thereby
reveals how Jesus “shall himself give life.”147
The Semitisms in 3:14–15 indicate that this saying of Jesus
antedates the Greek of the Fourth Gospel. It may have originated in
the preaching of Jesus’ earliest Jewish followers. It is unlikely that it
can be taken back to Jesus himself since all the evidence suggests
that he imagined he might be stoned. Recall Jesus’ words: “O
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are
sent to you!” (Mt 23:37; Lk 13:34). Jesus thought he was a prophet. He
also felt sent to Jerusalem, and that he would be stoned there. I agree
with the numerous scholars who (perhaps disappointingly) have been
forced to conclude that no authentic saying of Jesus indicates he
contemplated that he would be crucified.
The double entendre of “to exalt” and “to lift up” on a cross is an
Aramaism,148 since the Aramaic ‘ezdeqeph 149 denotes not only “to be
erected” but also “to be crucified.”150 The paronomasia is not possible
in Hebrew or Greek. In 1936, G. Kittel, in a major article unknown to
many leading Johannine experts,151 argued persuasively that the
knowledge of this Aramaic verb indicates that the Fourth Gospel was
composed in Palestine or Syria.152
Now we may explore the remaining three issues: (7) intertextuality,
(8) the possible remnants of a synagogal sermon, and (9) the evidence
of an underlying anguine Christology in the Gospel of John.
Intertextuality. John 3:14–15 is not a clear case of intertextuality,
since no text appears within another text. Yet there is an echo of
Numbers 21 in these verses. What text was in the mind of the Fourth
Evangelist? That is impossible to discern, for two reasons. First, no
text is quoted. Second, while he usually prefers the Greek translation
of Israel’s Scriptures (the Septuagint), he is intermittently dependent
on the Hebrew text (as in 19:35; perhaps in 12:41 he is influenced by a
lost Targum).153
As Gabler long ago urged, we must ask if the Evangelist is
supporting an argument “from the sayings of the books of the Old
Testament, and even accommodating them to the sense of the first
readers.”154 When we hear the echoes of Scripture, we perceive that
the serpent symbolized not only wisdom (Pos. 18), but also life (Pos.
20), renewed life (Pos. 26), and eternal life (Pos. 27).
The importance of the allusion to Numbers 21 in the Fourth Gospel
is brought into bold relief by the recognition that the Fourth Evangelist
is unusually attracted by the vivid scenes from the Exodus narrative.155
Especially influential on his thought are the theologically significant
symbolism of the paschal lamb (1:29), the manna (6:16–21), and the
elusive quotation from some Scripture in 7:38 that may well be, as R.
E. Brown suggested, to the psalmic celebrations of the incident when,
according to Numbers 21, Moses struck the rock and water flowed to
quench the thirst of those dying from lack of water in the wilderness.156
The pole on which Moses hung the metal serpent (03) appears in the
Septuagint as “sign” (anLieiov); reflecting the Evangelist’s tendency to
stress that Jesus’ miracles are “signs” suggests he may have been
drawn to Numbers 21 because it was a “sign” that pointed to Jesus.
Thinking about how and why the Fourth Evangelist has interpreted
Numbers 21 suggests that he imagines that Jesus is like the serpent.
Both were raised up. Both provide healing and life.
What is the most important meaning of the serpent in the Fourth
Gospel? The symbol of the serpent most often represents life (Pos.
20), but it also symbolized eternal life (Pos. 27). I am convinced that
the Fourth Evangelist put the accent on the symbolism of eternal life;
that is, Jesus is raised up symbolically like Moses’ serpent. And while
Moses’ serpent gave life, Jesus guarantees eternal life for those who
believe. The grammar proves the points; the conclusion to the two final
purpose clauses is “eternal life”:
And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,
So it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up;
In order that all who are believing in him may have eternal life;
So did God love the world that he gave his unique son
In order that all who are believing in him may not perish but may have eternal life. [3:14–16]

According to John 3:14, Jesus compares himself, as the Son of

Man, to the serpent raised up by Moses. According to Matthew 10:16,
Jesus told his twelve disciples: “Behold, I send you out as sheep in the
midst of wolves, therefore be wise as serpents157 and innocent as
doves.” The only parallel is in the Gospel of Luke, and it has only: “Go
out, behold, I send you as lambs in the midst of wolves” (Lk 9:3). It
seems to me that this saying belonged to Q, the putative lost source of
Jesus’ sayings, and that Luke, due to a disdain for the symbol of the
serpent, removed the reference to the serpent. The two most clearly
positive uses of the serpent in the New Testament are attributed to
Jesus by the First and Fourth Evangelists, and—according to many
New Testament experts—these are our most Jewish Gospels (and,
ironically, sometimes the most anti-Jewish Gospels).158 It seems to
follow that Jesus’ followers portrayed him as a prophet who used the
serpent to symbolize wisdom (Mt 10:16) and eternal life (Jn 3:14).159
The Possible Remnants of a Synagogal Sermon. The preceding
reflections indicate that in Greece, Italy, Syria, Egypt, India,
Mesopotamia, indeed in all known cultures, the serpent was revered
as a positive symbol. An objection might be raised; some might claim
that while Jews in Palestine and Syria admired the serpent, they never
would have depicted it anywhere near a synagogue. That is now
proved to be another false presupposition.
The serpent is clearly shown iconographically in synagogues from
southern to northern Roman Palestine. From the fifth-century
synagogue at Gaza, once incorrectly identified as a church, comes a
mosaic depicting David. An upraised serpent, along with a lion cub and
a giraffe, is depicted listening to David, as Orpheus, playing a lyre.160
Moving from the southwest to the northeast of Roman Palestine, we
come to a serpent elegantly chiseled on a beam above a Hebrew
inscription. It is not from a so-called pagan temple; it is from the Golan
and the late fifth-century CE synagogue atcEn Neshut.161 Moreover, the
serpent is formed to represent a Hercules knot.162 Also from the
Golan, and this time from the village at Dabbura, and probably from a
synagogue that dates from the early fifth century, is found a lintel with
two eagles—each of them holding a serpent. Between the two eagles,
and above the long serpent, is a Hebrew inscription: “This is the
academy of the Rabbi Eliezar ha-Qappar.”163 Not only does this lintel
take us back to the second century CE, but a serpent is depicted above
the academy of a rabbi known to be famous according to the Mishnah
and Talmudim (e.g., t. Betzah 1.7; j. Ber. 1.3).164
While the image of the serpent is now clearly shown to be part of
the synagogue, and also of rabbinic academies, I would think it likely
that some Jews depicted the serpent in light of mythological
ideologies.165 The serpent is associated not only with Orpheus but
also with a Herculean knot; even still, the general absence of “pagan”
iconography lifts the serpent out of mythology into the religious
symbolic world of Judaism, both before and after 70 CE(when the
Temple was burned and the nation destroyed).
Within this cultural setting for early rabbinic teaching and worship, I
am persuaded that it is conceivable that the Fourth Evangelist had
been influenced by a synagogal sermon he had heard—or even
delivered—based on an exegesis of Numbers 21:8–9. He probably
inherited the serpent symbolism from the Son of Man sayings, which
he obtained from traditions known to the Johannine school or circle.166
The Fourth Evangelist is not dependent only on a so-called
Christian exegetical and hermeneutical use of Numbers 21, as
Bultmann claimed.167 He may have known the Jewish traditions that
shaped the Christological interpretation of Numbers 21 by the author
of Barnabas (12) and Justin Martyr (1 Apol. 60 and Dial. 91, 94, and
112). These authors inherited traditions that are clearly Jewish.168 The
importance of Numbers 21, as we have seen, was developed by the
author of the Wisdom of Solomon and later Jewish sources (esp. m.
Rosh Hash. 3 and Mekilta to Exod 17:11).
Six observations have led me to the conclusion that the Fourth
Evangelist was influenced by a synagogal sermon when he composed
3:14. These may now be mentioned only briefly:
1. The Fourth Gospel is very Jewish, and is shaped by the
celebration of the Jewish festivals in synagogues after 70.
2. The members of the Johannine community desired to attend
synagogal services.
3. Philo of Alexandria based two homilies on Numbers 21:8–9. He
stresses, under the influence of the Septuagint, that “the serpent” is
“the most subtle [ ] of all the beasts” (Leg. 2.53). In Legum al-
legoriae 2.76–79, Philo claims that Moses’ uplifted serpent symbolized
“self-mastery” or “prudence” ( ) (cf. Pos. 6), which is a
possession only of those beloved by God or God-lovers ( ). In
De agricultura 94–98, Philo centers again on serpent symbolism to
assist his allegorical interpretations of Scripture. Philo perceives the
serpent to be of “great intelligence,” and able to defend itself “against
wrongful aggression.” Eve’s serpent is an allegory of lust and pleasure
(cf. Neg. 6), but Moses’ serpent represented protection from death and
self-control (cf. Pos. 6).169 The serpent also symbolizes “steadfast
endurance,” and that is why Moses made the serpent from bronze.
The serpent of Moses also symbolizes life; the one who looked on with
“patient endurance,” though bitten by “the wiles of pleasure, cannot but
live” (98 [cf. Pos. 20, 26, 27]).170
4. The importance of Numbers 21:8–9 would be familiar to all early
Jews who knew the Wisdom of Solomon 16:6–7, 13. Noteworthy are
especially the interpretations that “the one who turned toward it [not
the serpent but “the commandment of your Law”] was saved,” and that
God alone is “Savior of all.”171
5. The Johannine emphasis of being from above—stressed in
Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus—is the theme that leads to and
frames 3:13–15. It is the same exegetical meaning brought out of
Numbers 21:8–9 according to the Mishnah; that is, the Israelite must
remain faithful, direct thoughts to heaven above, and remain in
subjection to the Father. After quoting Numbers 21:8, Rosh Hashanah
has this ethical advice (halacha): “But could the serpent slay or the
serpent keep alive!—it is, rather, to teach thee that such time as the
Israelites directed their thoughts on high and kept their hearts in
subjection to their Father in heaven, they were healed; otherwise they
pined away” (3:8 [italics mine]).172 J. Neusner presents the following
translation: “But: So long as the Israelites would set their eyes upward
and submit to their Father in heaven, they would be healed.”173 Some
readers might even be forgiven for imagining, before reflection, that
Rosh Hashanah has a Johannine ring to it.

Figure 83. Gnostic Amulet. Roman Period. Jerusalem? JHC Collection

6. The Targum interprets Numbers 21 to denote that believers are

to turn their heart toward the Memra of God (i.e., the divine Word of
God).174
Do portions of John 3:13–15 derive from a synagogal sermon? For
me, this question remains unanswered yet intriguing. It is likely, as
many scholars have concluded (viz. M. E. Boismard and A. Lamouille),
that John 3:14 develops from an old Jewish tradition that has been
expanded by the Fourth Evangelist.175
I am now more interested in the possible evidence of ophidian
symbolism and perhaps ophidian Christology (which was distorted by
the Ophites) left elsewhere in the Fourth Gospel. It seems to me that
serpent imagery is not a central concern of the Fourth Evangelist, but it
may have been of keen interest to some in his circle (especially all the
former devotees of Asclepius).
An Underlying Ophidian Christology in the Gospel of John? It
is now virtually certain that the serpent served as a typology of Jesus
for the Fourth Evangelist, and it is imperative to recall that, before the
Fourth Evangelist, Moses’ serpent was a symbol of salvation.
According to the author of the Wisdom of Solomon 16:6, Moses’
serpent was “a symbol of salvation” ( ). As M.-J. Lagrange
stated in 1927: “Jesus shall be reality” (“Jésus sera la réalité”)—that is,
Jesus is salvation.176
Now, we can ask to what extent the Evangelist left traces of an
incipient ophidian Christology in the Fourth Gospel. While I am uneasy
about clarifying what an ancient author might have meant by a symbol,
I am convinced that the Fourth Evangelist thought things out along the
lines already explained. The penchant of denying such thoughts to the
Evangelist also seems unwise when one realizes that the Fourth
Gospel reflects a living history. The Evangelist and others in the
Johannine school reshaped and edited the gospel over forty years.
The text was most likely discussed in the Johannine school, and
concepts latent in the text might have become clearer to the Evangelist
through his own study of the text or through discussions with others.
If the Evangelist did not think about some passages in the Fourth
Gospel as mirroring serpent symbology, it would be rash to claim that
none of his readers would be blind to what seems clear, after exploring
the labyrinth of meanings attributed to the serpent by the ancient
thinkers. Not only audience criticism and reader-response criticism but
also narrative criticism allows us to ask to what extent the Evangelist
or his readers might have seen the serpent, the symbol of life (Pos.
20) and immortality (Pos. 27), mirrored in chapters subsequent to John
3:14.
Eternal Life and Life Abundant. Since in the first century CE the
serpent was the quintessential symbol for denoting abundant life and
eternal life, to what extent did the Evangelist or his readers ever
imagine that the “Gospel of Eternal Life” mirrored serpent symbolism?
177 Did he or they ever imagine a connection between the symbols of
the serpent which were regnant around them, in the following selected
passages:
3:15 in order that all who are believing in him may have eternal life.
3:16 in order that all who are believing in him may … have eternal life.
3:36 the one believing in the son has eternal life.
5:24 the one who is believing in him who sent me has eternal life.
6:40 so that all who are seeing the Son and are believing in him may have eternal life.
6:47 the one who is believing has eternal life.
10:10 I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.
11:25 I am the resurrection and the life.
11:26 and all who are living and believing in me shall never die.
20:31 and that believing you may have life in his name.

Jesus’ Legs Were Not Broken. The Fourth Evangelist

distinguishes his presentation of Jesus on the cross by stressing, even
redundantly, that Jesus’ legs were not broken. What is the meaning of
this aspect of Johannine theology? Is it because of the law recorded in
Numbers 9:12? Recall the text: “They shall leave none of it until
morning, nor break a bone of it; according to all the statute for the
Passover they shall keep it” (NRSV). Or is the author thinking about
Psalm 22? Numbers 9 seems without basis in the text and Psalm 22
has not been employed as in the other Gospels. What is the source of
the Evangelist’s inspiration and reason to include it in his narrative,
and what images might come to the mind of a reader of the Fourth
Gospel?
The answer may lie in the portrayal of Jesus. If he is a serpent on
the upraised tree, then his legs cannot be broken. That is, when we
study the serpentine feet of Yahweh—or, better, some depiction of his
power—in images roughly contemporaneous with the composition of
the Fourth Gospel, then we see legs that are bent. A bone can easily
be broken. But the curved and flexible body of a serpent bends to a
blow, such as that attributed to a Roman soldier’s weapon. Similarly,
the Fourth Evangelist knew the curse of the serpent, according to
Genesis 3; since he loses his legs, no one can break them. Perhaps
the Fourth Evangelist imagined such concepts. Or perhaps some in
the Johannine school or circle might have developed such thoughts. Is
it not absurd to imagine that we are the first to imagine such imagery
and symbolism?
The Fourth Evangelist and most of his readers knew well the
account of how Hezekiah broke the copper (or bronze) serpent in the
Temple (which is an echo of Num 21). Did the Evangelist ever and
some of his readers occasionally think that while the serpent was
broken by Hezekiah, Jesus—the antitype of Moses’ serpent—could not
be broken?
Nicodemus Brings the Corpse Down from the Cross. Jesus’
last words to Nicodemus are evident in John 3:14–15. Jesus tells this
leading Jew that he, as the Son of Man, must be raised up on the
cross like the serpent lifted up by Moses. Nicodemus appears on stage
again briefly when he apparently defends Jesus by pointing to legal
procedures (7:50–52). He is on center stage at the end, when Jesus
has already died. He brings Jesus’ corpse down from the cross.
 Only the Fourth Evangelist mentions the so-called Beloved
Disciple. He is at the foot of the cross and sees Jesus die. Why does
the Evangelist have him leave the scene? Would not the Beloved
Disciple be the ideal person to honor the corpse?
The Evangelist has a secret disciple of Jesus, Joseph of
Arimathea, and Nicodemus obtain and honor Jesus’ corpse. Then they
laid Jesus’ corpse in a garden. Why?
The passage is as full of emotion as it is of symbolism. What could
be in the mind of the Evangelist or in the minds of some of his
readers? Is it not possible that they understood the remains
Nicodemus received in terms of a metaphor, that Jesus’ corpse was
seen as the abandoned skin of a serpent gone on to a better, even
eternal life?
In the so-called Epistle of Barnabas, we find an exegesis of
Numbers 21 and John 3. Note this excerpt:
Moses makes a type of Jesus, [signifying] that it was necessary for Him to suffer, [and also]
that He would be the author of life [to others], whom they believed to have destroyed on the
cross when Israel was failing. For since transgression was committed by Eve through means
of the serpent, [the Lord] brought it to pass that every [kind of] serpents bit them, and they
died, that He might convince them, that on account of their transgression they were given over
to the straits of death. Moreover Moses, when he commanded, “Ye shall not have any graven
or molten [image] for your God,” did so that he might reveal a type of Jesus. Moses then
makes a brazen serpent, and places it upon a beam, and by proclamation assembles the
people. When, therefore, they were come together, they besought Moses that he would offer
sacrifice in their behalf, and pray for their recovery. And Moses spake unto them, saying,
“When any one of you is bitten, let him come to the serpent placed on the pole; and let him
hope and believe, that even though dead, it is able to give him life, and immediately he shall
be restored.” And they did so. Thou hast in this also [an indication of] the glory of Jesus; for in
Him and to Him are all things. (Barn. 12:5–7)178

A later tradition attributed to Ignatius reflects on the meaning of John

3:14–15. An expansion to Ignatius’ Epistle to the Smyrnaeans reads,
“The Word, when His flesh was lifted up, after the manner of the
brazen serpent in the wilderness, drew all men to Himself for their
eternal salvation.”179 This reflection seems to suggest that the “flesh”
denoted, or would have been understood by some readers to mean,
the skin left by the serpent who had apparently died, but had actually
gone on to a better and fuller life.
Does not the mention of a garden evoke the Eden Story, so that the
end of salvation of history was mirrored in the beginning of history?
What lies hidden behind John 19:38–42? Perhaps this passage was
informed by discussions in the Johannine school of the serpent who
brought death in the Garden of Eden and the antitype, Jesus, who
brought eternal life from the final garden.
 Appearance in a Garden. Only the Fourth Evangelist stages the
first resurrection appearance of Jesus in a garden. If Jesus has been
portrayed as an antitype of Moses’ serpent, then it is symbolically
significant that Jesus, as the life-giving serpent, appears in a garden.
The garden is the mythical abode of the life-giving, perceptive, or
guardian serpent, as we have seen from Gilgamesh, the Eden Story,
and the Hesperides. The garden is also the natural habitat of the
serpent. Did such myths and folklore help shape the Evangelist’s
creation or inform readers’ imaginations?
The scene in John 20:11–18 is so reminiscent of the Eden Story
that the Evangelist must have perceived the symbolic power of his
account of Jesus’ first resurrection appearance. His last story seems
shaped by the first story in the Bible. Both stories highlight a garden, a
man, and a woman. In both the man is portrayed as a gardener (Gen
2:15 and Jn 20:15). Both stress misperception and revealed
knowledge. As the first story is shaped by the loss of life, the final story
is defined by the proof of unending life.
A key link between the first biblical story and the last biblical story
(Jesus’ first resurrection appearance) has been missed by exegetes
and commentators. Mary Magdalene hears Jesus call her by name,180
and is told by him: “Do not touch me” (Jn 20:17); later she informs the
disciples what Jesus had told her (Jn 20:18). The linguistic link
between John 20 and Genesis 3 is interesting ( in John 20:17
and in Gen 3:3 [LXX]; MT = ). John 20:17 is an
echo of what the first woman added to God’s command when she tells
the Nachash: “And you must not touch it” (Gen 3:3).181 Would the
Fourth Evangelist miss the link he had made when he created his own
resurrection account? Should we imagine that he was deaf to the
echoes from Genesis? Did he not imagine that the new creation
(Jesus’ resurrection) was parallel to Creation?
The echo has many sounds. The echo occurs when the woman in
the garden is told by the one who has been lifted up as Moses’ serpent
that she must “not touch” him. The “original sound” was the woman’s
addition to God’s command when she spoke to the serpent in the
Garden of Eden: “And you [plural] shall not touch it.” The serpent, as
we have seen, was one of the major characters in the first story. Is the
life-giving serpent missing in the final story, or have Johannine experts
simply missed him among the trees in the garden?
Such reflections derive from contemplating, under the stimulus of
John 3:13–16, that some readers of the Fourth Gospel imagined Jesus
on the cross in light of Moses’ upraised serpent. The brilliant
interpreter John Chrysostom, in his Homilies on Colossians, obviously
thinking about John 3:14–15, argued that Jesus was crucified in public
as a serpent. Here are his words: “[W]hile the world was looking on,
the serpent should be slain on high upon the Cross, herein is the
marvel.”182

DOUBTING THAT JESUS IS PARALLEL TO THE

SERPENT IN JOHN 3

It is easy to doubt an exegesis that is directed against the tide in

Johannine research. Here are some objections that may be raised
against the exegesis that the Fourth Evangelist presents a typology of
Jesus as Moses’ upraised serpent and that Jesus is one who
embodies the positive symbolic power attributed to the serpent.

1. The fact that the Ophites and others interpreted John 3:14–15 to
signify that Jesus is like the serpent implies that the Fourth
Evangelist did not intend that interpretation.
Response: The Ophites’ misleading interpretation cannot
be a means of discerning the intention of the Fourth
Evangelist. The only means of grasping the meaning in
John 3:14–15 is to study the Greek within the immediate
context of the Fourth Gospel and to comprehend the text
within the social and historical context of the symbols
that were known to and shaped the symbolic world of the
Fourth Evangelist.
2. The Ophites are certainly heretical; their exegesis must be
ignored in seeking to understand the Fourth Gospel.
Response: Many mainline Christians in the second and
third centuries CE thought the Fourth Gospel was
heretical. The terms “orthodoxy” and “heresy” should not
be labels that adequately define thinking within and on
the borders of Christianity before the promulgation of
orthodoxy in the fourth century.183 In fact, some leading
scholars today have judged the Fourth Gospel to be
quasi-Docetic or to preserve a naïve Docetism (cf.
Kásemann).
3. The portrayal of Asclepius with a serpent and as a serpent, which
was dominant in the first century CE, would make it unlikely that
the Fourth Evangelist would depict Jesus as a serpent,
especially since there was tension between the devotees of
Asclepius and the followers of Christ.
Response: The tension between Asclepius and Christ
does not appear before the late second century CE, at the
earliest. There are no innuendoes in the Johannine
writings of any tension from those who worshipped
Asclepius. In fact, one should contemplate that not only
Samaritans and Essenes were probably in the Johannine
circle or school; some Greeks in it (cf. 12:20) may have
once been devoted to Asclepius. They would have joined
the “new movement” because they found a far better
“story” or convincing gospel. For them, and for many
others, the serpent was sacred and a symbol of life and
eternal life, not only among the Asclepiads but among
the devotees of Athena, Apollo, Zeus, and others. Thus,
the serpent was a most appropriate symbol for the Jesus
who said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who
believe in me, even though they die, will live, and
everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (Jn
11:25–26 [NRSV]).
4. The Greek of John 3:14–15 does not state that Jesus is a
serpent. This insight is significant since the Fourth Evangelist
habitually declares, especially through words attributed to Jesus,
that he is the Lamb of God, Rabbi (and Rabboni), the prophet,
Light, the Shepherd, the Way, the Truth, the Life, the Son; and he
implies rather directly that Jesus is the Son of Man and the
Messiah.184
Response: This insight is correct. The Fourth Evangelist
does not declare that Jesus is a serpent or even “like
Moses’ serpent.” An ophidian Christology is not
proclaimed by the Fourth Evangelist. Yet, he attributes
the words that reveal the Son of Man is parallel to Moses’
serpent to Jesus.185 He does not proclaim that Jesus is a
serpent or should be symbolized as a serpent. He uses a
simile; Jesus is like the serpent raised up by Moses, at
God’s command, in the wilderness. Jesus is not a
serpent; he is like Moses’ upraised serpent of copper.
 Like Moses’ serpent, Jesus brings life, even eternal life, to
all who look up to and believe in him who is from above. The
metaphor is clear: In the Book of Numbers, sin is associated
with poisonous snakes, but salvation comes with commitment
to God represented by the image of the upraised serpent.
Intimations of idolatrous meaning are erased by the memory of
Hezekiah’s reform and smashing of the Nechushtan; the
serpent is not to be worshipped. Trust is not put in Moses or in
the image; trust is placed in God’s promise that all who look up
to the raised serpent on the stake may live and not die. The
divine sanction is accomplished by the Evangelist’s placing of
the words in Jesus’ mouth. Perhaps the Fourth Evangelist is
appealing to those who in his community and region are
imagining Jesus as Moses’ serpent; some of them could have
been former devotees of Asclepius, Apollo, or Athena—to
name only a few deities who were portrayed as serpent gods
or gods with serpents. The Evangelist depends on Jewish
exegesis of Numbers 21 because, as Jesus said, “The
Scripture cannot be annulled” (10:35).
5. The exegesis presented in this study is weakened by the
observation that the “serpent” appears in the Fourth Gospel only
in John 3:14, and even in this passage the image is not
developed.
Response: That is a caveat found in the preceding
pages. The simile is introduced; Jesus is an antitype of
Moses’ upraised serpent. The Fourth Evangelist does not
seem interested in developing the typology. He thus
probably inherited this tradition. Does it derive ultimately
from some teaching of Jesus not recorded elsewhere?186
Is it a part of the early kerygmata in the Palestinian Jesus
Movement? Does it provide a window into the kerygma
and didache found in the Johannine school as Jewish
scribes and sages searched the Scripture to prove that
Jesus is the one who fulfills all prophecies and
typologies? I am convinced that this latter possibility is
more likely than the others.

Finally, we may return to the enigmatic report in Plato’s Phaedo

that Socrates, on his deathbed, ordered a student to offer a cock to
Asclepius. Earlier we drew attention to this incongruous aspect of
Socrates’ life. What could it mean?
A rather scathing explanation was offered by Lactantius (c. 240-c.
320). He judged Socrates’ actions to be not those of a wise man but of
a deranged mind. Note his words in the famous Divine Institutes:
For who can dare to find fault with the superstitions of the Egyptians, when Socrates confirmed
them at Athens by his authority? But was it not a mark of consummate vanity, that before his
death he asked his friends to sacrifice for him a cock which he had vowed to Aesculapius? … I
should consider him most mad if he had died under the influence of disease. But since he did
this in his sound mind, he who thinks that he was wise is himself of unsound mind.187

Such a critique reflects more the “Christianity” of Lactantius—the

Divine Institutes were replies to attacks against Christianity by a
philosopher—than the motives behind Socrates’ apparently
incongruous actions on his deathbed.
One of the best explanations of Socrates’ instruction is provided by
Ter-tullian.188 In his Apology, Tertullian offered the explanation that
Socrates customarily said: “ ‘If the demon grant permission.’ Yet he,
too, though in denying the existence of your divinities he had a glimpse
of the truth, at his dying ordered a cock to be sacrificed to Aesculapius,
I believe in honour of his father for Apollo pronounced Socrates the
wisest of men.”189
For approximately two thousand years, when the serpent is seen in
the text, two categorically different interpretations of John 3:14–15
have been offered. One regards the serpent only as symbolic of evil.
The other views the serpent as symbolic of life. Both frequently placard
Moses’ serpent as a typology of Christ. Four fourth-century authors
who should help us understand the proper exegesis have been chosen
to make this point: Ephrem Syrus (c. 306–373), Cyril of Jerusalem (c.
315–387), Gregory Nazianzus (329/30–389/90), and Ambrose (c. 339–
397).
Ephrem Syrus, under the influence of the Fourth Gospel, perceived
the parallel between Jesus’ cross and the serpent.190 In his Hymns on
the Nativity, Ephrem offers this exegesis and hermeneutic: “His cross
would eat the serpent up that had eaten Adam and Eve. Moses saw
the uplifted serpent that had cured the bites of asps, and he looked to
see Him who would heal the ancient serpent’s wound.”191
The link between Christ and the serpent is also stressed in the
exegesis of John 3:14–15 by Cyril of Jerusalem. In his Catechetical
Lectures, Cyril presents an interpretation of John 3:14–15 clarifying the
comparison as focused not on the verb, “to lift up,” but on the serpent
as a typology of Christ: “This was the figure which Moses completed
by fixing the serpent to a cross, that whoso had been bitten by the
living serpent, and looked to the brazen serpent, might be saved by
believing. Does then the brazen serpent save when crucified, and shall
not the Son of God incarnate save when crucified also?”192
The paradigmatic opposite interpretation of Ephrem and Cyril is
presented by Gregory of Nazianzus. In his The Second Oration on
Easter, Gregory claims that the serpent is not a type of Christ because
it was so evil it deserved to be destroyed. Note his apparent
insensitivity to the wide range of serpent symbology:
But that brazen serpent was hung up as a remedy for the biting serpent, not as a type of Him
that suffered for us, but as a contrast; and it saved those that looked upon it, not because they
believed it to live, but because it was killed, and killed with it the powers that were subject to it,
being destroyed as it deserved. And what is the fitting epitaph for it from us? “O death, where
is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” Thou art overthrown by the Cross; thou art slain by
Him who is the Giver of life; thou art without breath, dead, without motion, even though thou
keepest the form of a serpent lifted up on high on a pole.193

A similar exegesis of John 3 was provided by Ambrose, who

subsequently influenced Augustine. In his Of the Holy Spirit,194
Ambrose offered the following interpretation that reflects a
preoccupation with the negative image of the serpent:
And well did the Lord ordain that by the lifting up of the brazen serpent the wounds of those
who were bitten should be healed; for the brazen serpent is a type of the Cross; for although in
His flesh Christ was lifted up, yet in Him was the Apostle crucified to the world and the world to
him; for he says: “The world hath been crucified unto me, and I unto the world.”(1) So the
world was crucified in its allurements, and therefore not a real but a brazen serpent was
hanged; because the Lord took on Him the likeness of a sinner, in the truth. Indeed, of His
Body, but without the truth of sin, that imitating a serpent through the deceitful appearance of
human weakness, having laid aside the slough of the flesh, He might destroy the cunning of
the true serpent. And therefore in the Cross of the Lord, which came to man’s help in avenging
temptation, I, who accept the medicine of the Trinity, recognize in the wicked the offence
against the Trinity.195

The verbosity should not camouflage the fact that the serpent
symbolizes sin, weakness, and the Liar.196
Ephrem Syrus and Cyril of Jerusalem comprehended the typology I
am convinced was intended by the Fourth Evangelist: the serpent is a
type of the Son in the Fourth Gospel. Unfortunately, modern
commentators either have been blind to the serpent symbolism that
expresses the masterful insights in John 3:13–16 or have followed
Gregory and Ambrose. Perhaps more now will see the wisdom and
perceptions of the Fourth Evangelist as Cyril and Ephrem did.

SUMMARY
We began this study with questions that arose from focused reflections
on John 3:14–15. Our central question may be rephrased: “How, why,
and in what ways, if at all, is Jesus compared to Moses’ upraised
serpent?” We observed that the commentators on the Fourth Gospel
failed to raise this question adequately and to explore the meaning of
serpent symbolism in antiquity. Over one hundred years ago,
commentators placed the Greek text of the Fourth Gospel on their
desks and surrounded themselves with ancient sources. They asked:
“What did the text mean in the first century?” In recent decades, the
computer is placed on the desk. The Greek text is to the left and
commentators are customarily surrounded by other commentaries.
The question has changed; scholars ask: “What have others recently
been saying about this text?” Commentaries now are too often “rush
jobs” to meet publishers’ deadlines. Far too often, regurgitation of
others’ thoughts replaces creative fresh reflection on what an author
and his or her audience would have imagined a text to mean or
suggest.
By focusing on one text and one central question and by exploring
serpent symbolism, we obtained many surprising insights and were
challenged by the creative mind of the Fourth Evangelist. We have
seen how normal images of snakes were in antiquity and that the
serpent symbolized, inter alia, life and eternal life. The serpent was a
perfect image for portraying the theology of the Fourth Evangelist. In
the Fourth Gospel we do not confront “one of the strangest images for
Jesus Christ in Scripture.”197
What are the significant discoveries of our exploration into John
3:1316? Here is a summary of the major insights.
The intended thought is not only “to lift up.” The Fourth Evangelist
stresses the descent of the Son of Man (3:13) and his ascent again to
his Father. In this narrative context, the lifting up of a serpent on a pole
symbolizes Jesus on the cross.
The “as” and “so” construction of John 3:14 defines two clauses.
The adverbs reveal the Evangelist’s thought: “[A]s Moses lifted up the
serpent … so it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up.”
The impersonal verb “it is necessary” does not refer only to the
crucifixion. The Fourth Evangelist uses this construction to refer to the
fulfillment of God’s purpose revealed in Scripture. It thus refers to both
crucifixion and resurrection (20:9; cf. also Mk 8:31).198 Thus, serpent
symbolism is apparent in 3:14; the serpent is the primary symbol for
signifying new or renewed life (Pos. 26), and unending or eternal life
(3:15 and 3:16; cf. Pos. 27).
The poetic structure of 3:14–15 is synonymous parallelismus
membro-rum. The serpent in stichos one is parallel to the Son of Man,
Jesus, in stichos two.
The grammar of 3:14 points to the identity of the Son of Man as the
serpent; only “serpent” and “Son of Man” are placed in the accusative
case and aligned. John 3:15 has one noun in the accusative case:
“eternal life.” Thus, the thought moves from “serpent” to “Son of Man”
and then to “eternal life.” Looking up to the Son of Man and believing
in him reveal the continuing influence of Numbers 21 and the life-
giving serpent who symbolizes eternal life. The influence of ophidian
symbology becomes clear: The serpent symbolizes life and immortality
(Pos. 20 and 27).
A study of ophidian symbology in antiquity clarifies, sometimes for
the first time, some major dimensions of the theology and Christology
of the Fourth Gospel. To summarize:
1. Jesus is the Son of Man who is like the upraised serpent that
gives life to those who look up to him and believe. The Fourth
Evangelist describes Jesus’ crucifixion so that only his mother and the
Beloved Disciple are narratively described looking up to Jesus on the
cross (19:26–27, 35).
The serpent raised up by Moses is a typology of the Son of Man,
Christ. The history of salvation does not begin at the baptism. As the
Fourth Evangelist made clear in the Prologue to his Gospel, it began
“in the beginning.” That is, Jesus’ life must be understood from the
perspective of God’s actions in history and foreshadowing in Scripture,
especially Genesis 1:1, “In the beginning …”
2. As God gave life to those who looked up to the serpent and
believed God’s promise, so Jesus gives life to all who look up to him
and believe in him. By looking up to Jesus, lifted up on the cross, one
is looking not only at an antitype—the upraised serpent, the crucified
Jesus. One is looking up to heaven—the world above. It is from there
that the Johannine Jesus has come and is returning. He, the Son of
Man, alone descended to earth (3:13) to prepare a place for those who
follow him. In the words of conservative Old Testament scholar R. K.
Harrison: “In the same way that the ancient Israelite was required to
look in faith at the bronze serpent to be saved from death, so the
modern sinner must also look in faith at the crucified Christ to receive
the healing of the new birth (Jn 3:14–16).”199
3. Trust or believing is required so that God through the serpent
and Jesus can provide life to all who look up to the means of healing
and new life, including eternal life. No other New Testament author
employs the verb “to believe” as frequently and deeply as the Fourth
Evangelist. He chooses it, and accentuates it pervasively, and he
indicates the dynamic quality of “believing” by avoiding the noun
“faith.”
4. The paradigmatic importance of “up” and “above,” so significant
for Johannine Christology, is heightened by a recognition that Jesus
represents the serpent raised up above the earth. It helps us
understand the double entendre Jesus is making while talking with
Nicodemus. Jesus tells Nicodemus he must be born anothen, which is
a wordplay denoting both “again,” and “above.”
5. The serpent was chosen symbolically to indicate healing in the
cult of Asclepius. The same symbol was used in Jewish groups
contemporaneous with the Fourth Gospel. Later “Jews” and
“Christians” created and employed amulets that depict the powers of
Yahweh with serpent feet or other features taken from serpent
iconography. Ophidian symbolism and iconography help us
comprehend why the Fourth Evangelist indicates that Jesus, as the
serpent, provides healing for all who turn to him.
6. We have seen ample evidence that the serpent is a symbol of
immortality or resurrection in many segments of the culture in which
the Fourth Gospel took shape. This dimension of serpent symbolism
may be seen as undergirding the thought expressed by the Fourth
Evangelist. Indeed, the Fourth Gospel appears to be a blurred mirror in
which we see reflected discussions on this topic in the Johannine
community, school, or circle.
Figure 84. Jewish-Gnostic Amulet Showing Lion, Stork, Scorpion, Serpent, and Ram [?].
Greek inscription: IAW (= Yahweh, God’s name in Hebrew), Sabao (Sabaoth), Michael. Third-
fifth centuries CE. Jerusalem? JHC Collection

7. Finally, Numbers 21:8–9 is a text used intertextually by the

Fourth Evangelist. It helps shape his narrative and enables him to
present the profundity of his Christology. We have also seen that
Moses’ upraised serpent was a subject of interest for many Jews (viz.
in Wis 16, Philo’s Leg. 2 and Agr. 94). A study of the Fourth Gospel
needs to be informed by such Jewish exegesis of Genesis 3 and
Numbers 21. In light of such traditions, it becomes clearer how and
why the Fourth Evangelist perceived Jesus’ crucifixion. The crucifixion
was not a failure; it was a necessity and mirrors Jesus’ exaltation and
return to the world above.
8. The Fourth Evangelist shapes his thoughts and symbols by the
use of the light–darkness paradigm. Johannine thought is enriched by
the recognition that the serpent god is depicted as controlling light and
darkness. According to an excerpt that Philo of Byblos derived from a
“sacred scribe,” when the serpent opened his eyes, “there was light”
and when he shut his eyes “there was darkness.”200 For those in the
Johannine community who were deeply influenced by the power of
serpent symbolism, this allegorical imagery would help them
understand a key passage: “I am the light of the world” (8:12; cf. 3:19,
12:35–36).201 There should be no doubt that some who read the
Fourth Gospel in antiquity would have seen Jesus in light of serpent
symbolism. Both symbolized light (Pos. 3 and 7).
Figure 85. Left. Serpent on Cross. Picture, “St Virgil,” in the Bildunghaus in Salzburg.
Courtesy of Professor P. Hofrichter.
Figure 86. Right. Serpent on Cross. Mount Nebo. Modern. JHC

As we have already seen when studying Genesis 3, artists often

serve as more perceptive biblical exegetes than biblical scholars. That
is because they must live in the scene and story depicted, imagine all
descriptions, and then transpose the prose and poetry into art.
Artists sometimes depict Jesus as a serpent on a cross. Two
examples must suffice. One is in a painting in a church in Salzburg.
The cross is clear, as is the serpent who symbolizes Jesus. On Mount
Nebo today, Numbers 21 conflates with John 3. Not a stake but a
cross is artistically depicted. The one on it is clearly a serpent who
represents Jesus.
The Warburg Institute in London has collected many symbolic
representations of the Son of Man (Jesus) as the serpent, according to
John 3:14. Two examples may now be chosen to make the point that
artists, under the influence of John 3:14, often see Jesus as a serpent
on the cross. In his S. Ioannes, Jacques Callot (1592–1635) depicted
a person kneeling and praying beside a small staff on which a serpent
is entwined; a large tree is above both. Wolf Huber, also named
Barthel Beham (1502–40), portrayed Jesus on the cross and to the left
of him is the serpent on the pole.202
Other examples may be mentioned, but I shall limit my presentation
to just three.203 First, a lead sarcophagus in Jerusalem, from the early
Christian period, shows a cross with serpent feet. The imagery most
likely derives from imaginative reflections on John 3:14. Second, the
upper part of a gravestone, found perhaps in Luxor in 1906, contains a
cross under which are two serpents with heads uplifted.204 Third, a
pottery figure from Drenthe in the Netherlands shows a large serpent
coiling upward and around a cross or outstretched arms. As Leclercq
concluded, most likely the figure represents the serpent of the
wilderness as a symbol of Christ.205 The ceramic figure thus was an
interpretation of John 3:14 that equated “the Son of Man” with the
serpent that Moses lifted up in the wilderness.

Figure 87. Mater Auxiliatrix. Naples. JHC

The painting in Fig. 87 focuses the viewer’s attention on Jesus with

Mary, a saint, and, most important, centered between them a cup with
two upraised serpents. What does this picture symbolize? Is it possible
that a gifted artist has created a scene that is based on an insightful
interpretation of John 3:14–16? If so, this meaning has been lost for
those who have studied it, as I learned talking with a priest who
published a work devoted to it. The colorful painting seems to mystify
those who focus on it. In order to perceive the in-depth meaning of this
painting, I have divided the following presentation into facts, opinions,
and my own explanation.
Facts. The painting has been moved many times. It was originally
in the convent of Santa Maria di Casarlano, a village that is presently
incorporated within Sorrento. The impressive painting is now in a
chapel, Cappella del Noviziato, on an upper floor within Gesù Nuovo,
the Jesuit residence in downtown Naples. The date of composition and
the artist are unknown. Thus, any basis for interpretation cannot
appeal to date or creator. What is the meaning of this picture? What do
the two serpents symbolize?
Opinions. Some priests in Naples told me that the painting may
have been composed to celebrate the founding of the convent, Santa
Maria di Casarlano. If so, then the work would have been created
about 1496. I asked a Jesuit who had studied the painting what the
meaning of the two serpents was. He was drawn primarily to the
dominant figure of the Virgin Mary, and admitted that, perhaps, the
serpents represented some heresy. He confessed that he did not
know.
My Interpretation. The painting has been moved because of
embarrassment. Many consider the images of serpents in a cup to be
heretical.
The painting is probably not connected with the founding of the
convent.206 It is later than the fifteenth century. It did exist in the
sixteenth century because the Turks—who sought to desecrate a
celebration of Christian symbols—shoved their swords and knives into
it in 1558.207 Its style seems to connect the painting with the school of
Giotto. One may surmise that the painting dates from the middle of the
sixteenth century.208
Why is the painting impressive? Most viewers have been drawn to
it because of the beatific view of the Virgin Mary. She is the dominant
figure, situated in the middle and elevated above the males on her
right and left. She is feminine and attractive, especially as she leans
her cheek adoringly on the head of the Christ child. One can
appreciate why the “Madonna di Casarlano” is revered “come Auxilium
Christianorum” or, more affectionately, “Mater Auxiliatrix.” 209
Our gaze is riveted by an unusual detail. A man, obviously a saint,
holds a cup, but this is no ordinary depiction of the chalice. From it two
small serpents ascend.210 Prominence is given to the two bifid
tongues. Who is the man holding the chalice? What is the meaning of
the two serpents? Why are two depicted?
As one stands before the painting, one sees a man on the left (not
shown). He is John the Baptizer, who is revealed by the animal skin
around his chest. The man on the right is John, perceived to be the
Beloved Disciple. He is the one who holds the cup with the two
serpents.211
Two major questions arise: What is the meaning of the cup? What
do the two serpents symbolize?
 Alan Culpepper shared with me his impression that the cup with the
serpents might signify the manner in which John the Evangelist
died.212 According to some texts and legends, John was forced to
drink poison or was killed by a deadly snake.213 This interpretation
rightly grounds an interpretation with the Fourth Evangelist, but it
focuses again only on the negative meaning of serpent symbolism.214
If the serpents represented death, then why are Mary and John the
Evangelist portrayed oblivious of any danger? If the cup is a chalice,
then it represented Jesus’ blood. It symbolized the source of eternal
life, which—as we have seen—is first and foremost associated with
the serpent in the first century CE.
The cup appears to represent the chalice in which the Eucharist
contains the blood of Christ. The identification of John the Evangelist
shows that the correct interpretation of the symbolism of this painting
is to be found in the Fourth Gospel. And the only mention of the
“serpent” in this Gospel is found at 3:14. While John the Baptizer
points to the Virgin with his right hand, John the Evangelist lifts the
chalice with two serpents in his right hand.215
The serpents do not seem to have negative meaning because they
do not startle the baby, Virgin, or Evangelist. The serpent closest to the
Virgin seems almost to touch her, but rather than threatening her with
his deadly fangs, he seems to be communicating power and
immortality through his tongue. The other serpent seems to be pointing
the viewer’ eye toward heaven. The most arresting aspect of the
painting is also its spark of creativity: the serpents lift themselves up
from the chalice.
Two serpents are depicted, perhaps, to remind the observer of the
caduceus (cf. Fig. 5). The bifid tongue indicates the power of the
serpents, which are clearly poisonous (as indicated by the triangular
head). An exegesis of Genesis 3 or Numbers 21, whereby a serpent
brings death, seems “checkmated” by the serpent, Christ, who
restores life and promises “eternal life” (Jn 3:14–15). As indicated by
the caduceus and pointed out in our exegesis of Numbers 21, the
serpent who brings death is bested by the serpent who brings life. As
Moses lifted up a serpent, and Jesus, the Son of Man, was lifted up on
a cross, the two serpents are lifted up out of the chalice.
The unknown artist depicts a pensive John the Evangelist holding
his Gospel in the left hand and lifting up the chalice with two serpents
in his right hand. The artist seems to be stressing that the cup of
Christ’s blood brings immortality; the appropriate symbol for this
thought is the serpent (Pos. 27). The artist knew the meaning of John
3:14–15: “the serpent” symbolizes that “the Son of Man” provides
“eternal life” to all who look up to him and believe in him. The full
symbolism breaks forth on observers when they realize what is on
each side of the Virgin: John the Baptizer holds a wooden cross, John
the Evangelist lifts up two serpents. Thus, she is framed by a cross
and serpents. Our examination of serpent symbolism thus allows us to
conclude that the symbolism in this painting is grounded in John 3:14–
15.
We now turn to a painting in Hawaii; it is similar to the one in the
Cappella del Noviziato. The painting shows a woman or man before a
chalice with a serpent curled over it. The art is by Piero di Cosimo of
the fifteenth century. It is now in the Samuel H. Kress Collection,
Honolulu Academy of Arts, Honolulu, Hawaii.216 This painting is also
an interpretation of John 3:14–15. The chalice contains an
inexhaustible supply of Christ’s blood, the symbol of eternal life (Pos.
26, 27). The complexity of ophidian symbolism probably inspired Piero
di Cosimo.
The serpents in the chalice that contains Christ’s blood are
indicative of the immortality symbolized by the “serpent” imagery in
John 3:14. One is reminded of the teaching of Ignatius of Antioch: The
Eucharist is “the medicine of immortality.”217 A fourth-century amulet
with Samaritan writing, a cross, and a serpent may also indicate an
interpretation of Christ’s death as regeneration and eternal life.218

CONCLUSION

We have observed something remarkable and revealing. Modern

scholars who work on the theology and Christology of the Fourth
Gospel stress that 3:14 refers only to the “lifting up” of Jesus. Those
who have focused on symbology and iconography perceive only that
Jesus is symbolized as the serpent. In the present work, we have
learned that each of these is only partially correct. The truth entails
both: the typology entails both Jesus’ being lifted up and his portrayal
as the serpent on the pole or cross.
J. Asurmendi explains how the serpent symbolism of Numbers 21
was transformed into a spiritual symbol by the Fourth Evangelist. He
argues that the typological analogy is between the serpent and the
Son of Man (“El famoso texto opera una analogia entre la serpiente y
el Hijo del hombre”). Asurmendi contends that “the serpent has been
transformed by the Fourth Evangelist into the Son of Man” (“la
serpiente se convierte en del Hombre”).219 This seems to be a
perception of many early readers of the Fourth Gospel and perhaps
many in the Johannine circle, but it is not clearly developed by the
Fourth Evangelist.
In Le Tohu-bohu, le Serpent et le bon Dieu, A. Houziaux points out
that no animal receives such an important place in the Hebrew Bible
as the serpent. Indeed, we have seen that serpent symbolism appears
at the beginning of Genesis, reappears in Exodus with Moses’ magical
staff, and explodes with symbolic significance in the wilderness with
Moses uplifting a copper serpent on a pole. This famous and
paradigmatic episode in the wilderness shapes the early centuries of
worship in the Temple. Finally, Hezekiah destroys the copper serpent
in the Jerusalem Temple. What about the Fourth Gospel? Houziaux,
unlike other Johannine experts, contends that in John 3:14 the serpent
became the symbol for Christ being lifted on a cross.220 It seems clear
from our research that as Moses’ bronze serpent represented God’s
saving of those dying in the wilderness, so Jesus on the cross
symbolized the saving of all humanity.221 As H. Lesêtre stated: “Jesus
was raised on his cross like the serpent on his pole” (“Notre-Seigneur
sera donc dressé sur sa croix comme le serpent sur son poteau”).222
In his thirty-seventh homily on the Fourth Gospel, John Chrysostom
explained why Jesus did not simply declare: “I am about to be
crucified.” Jesus wanted his hearers to think about the analogy with
the Old Testament, because “the old order was akin to the new.” Note
that Chrysostom sees more than merely a parallel between the lifting
up of the serpent and the lifting up of Jesus. The parallel is also
between the serpent and Jesus:
In the former, the uplifted serpent healed the bites of serpents;
in the latter, the crucified Jesus healed the wounds inflicted by the spiritual dragon.
In the former, he who looked with these eyes of earth was healed;
in the latter, he who gazes with the eyes of his mind lays aside all his sins.

Chrysostom sees indeed a parallel between Jesus and the serpent: “In
the former, there was the uplifted brass fashioned in the likeness of a
serpent; in the latter, the Lord’s body formed by the Spirit.”223
It should not be surprising to see Jesus (the Son of Man) as a
serpent. According to the Fourth Evangelist, Jesus was the One-who-
was-to-come. One of his favorite Scriptures was the Book of Isaiah.
This eighth-century prophet claimed that the One-who-was-to-come
would be a serpent. Recall, Isaiah’s prophecy:
Rejoice not, all you of Philistia,
Because the rod that struck you is broken;
For out of the serpent’s root shall come forth a pit viper,
And his offspring shall be a flying serpent. [Isa 14:29]

Clearly, the serpent in the wilderness is a symbol of the Son of Man,

Jesus, the Christ, according to the Fourth Evangelist.224
Conclusion
We have successfully fulfilled all six criteria established at the outset:
(1) An abundance of evidence, iconographical and literary, has been
amassed to prove that the serpent not only represented negative
thoughts and concepts but also has often been a good symbol in world
cultures. (2) The serpent was frequently admired in Old Testament
times, not only in Near Eastern cultures but also within ancient Israel.
The Yahwist in Genesis 3 portrays the Nachash as a beast of the field
created by Yahweh God. He or she can talk and appears to represent
the truth better than the Creator. The Brazen Serpent is created under
God’s orders so that those who look up toward it and trust in God’s
healing do not die but live. (3) The serpent was appreciated positively
in the Greek and Roman periods. All the leading deities, especially
Zeus, Apollo, Athena, Hermes, Asclepius, and Hygieia, were
represented as serpents or are shown with serpents. (4) The serpent
was sometimes a positive symbol in Judaism before and during the
time of the Fourth Evangelist. (5) We found an exegesis of Numbers
21 by a Jew who lived in the same century as the Fourth Evangelist,
and the Jewish expositor Philo stresses the positive symbolism of the
Brazen Serpent (also see the m. Rosh Hash. and the Mekilta of Rabbi
Yishmael).1 (6) The Fourth Evangelist does not cavalierly treat the
symbolism of the serpent he inherits directly from the text of Numbers
21, and he is indebted to Jewish reflections on the formative and well-
known upraised serpent of Moses. The Evangelist is most likely also
significantly influenced by ophidian symbol-ogy in his environment. He
appreciates the power and positive dimensions of serpent symbolism,
reflecting the prevalent viewpoint that the serpent symbolizes life and
eternal life.
Finally, we may summarize the high points of my six years spent
exploring ancient serpent iconography and symbolism. We started with
one focused question, which arose from studying John 3:14–15: “What
did the serpent symbolize in antiquity?” This focal question led to many
others; in fact, over sixty questions ultimately appeared from
examining Genesis 3.
We learned that the serpent is the most multivalent of all symbols.
We recognized that serpent symbology should be categorized; indeed,
the serpent symbolized sixteen negative and twenty-nine positive
meanings, concepts, or ideas. This taxonomy was often grounded in
serpent physiology (and ophiology). We observed that in the first
century CE the dominant meaning of serpent symbology was positive.
One reason was the serpent’s association with the emperors (along
with their quislings like Herod and Archelaus) and especially the
healing god, Asclepius (see esp. Figs. 1, 58–60).
We comprehended that the serpent appears significantly in
creation myths in all known cultures. These extended from
Mesopotamia to Egypt, and from the Middle East and Africa to Mexico
and Australia. A study of shared serpent symbols led us to appreciate
the commonality of the human, even if in the Levant, Egyptian,
Mesopotamian, and especially Canaanite symbolism influenced the
great minds of ancient Israel, particularly the Yahwist, the author of
Psalm 68 (David?), and Isaiah and his school.
We noted that Old Testament scholars often, and New Testament
experts usually are insufficiently trained in iconography and
symbology. The richest collection of books shaped by symbolism is
clearly the Bible; yet Scripture is habitually read, even by the savants,
without an informed perception of the world of symbols that stimulated
the authors. Consistently, texts are studied without the requisite
sensitivity to iconography and the meaning of symbols in the contexts
that produced them. Most important, we saw that the biblical experts
were often blind to the complex and rich serpent symbolism in Genesis
3, Numbers 21, and John 3.
We discovered that serpent symbolism in the Middle East absorbed
many contradictory meanings—light and darkness, life and death,
good and evil, Satan and God. The serpent ceased to be a dominantly
positive symbol in our culture about the fourth century CE. Why?
Perhaps serpent symbolism ceased (beginning with Eusebius) being
widely perceived as multivalent because the image and symbol
became so heavy with diverse meanings that it lacked clarity. Perhaps
more so, the serpent became a predominantly negative symbol in
Western culture (despite the serpents on medical notes and
prescriptions) because of the leading minds in the triumphant Church.
On the one hand, they were over-influenced by the negative serpent
symbolism of “the final book of the Bible,” Revelation 12. On the other
hand, they sought to establish Christianity against some powerful and
well-established religions; that is, they developed Christological
symbols that would replace Hermes’ caduceus and especially
Asclepius’ and Hygieia’s serpent (see Fig. 60). Subsequently, in
Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, the serpent ceased to be a
multivalent symbol. In Western and Near Eastern cultures, the symbol
of the serpent devolved until it became a synonym for Satan.
 What was our most surprising discovery? There was more than
one.
It was startling to discover the linguistic brilliance of the Yahwist,
who lived about the same time as Homer. He was gifted with
language. But he could not systematize all the previous and diverse
folklore and myths into one coherent Eden Story. Was his creation
marred by the clash of Canaanite and Israelite cultures (Kulturkampf)?
Or was his story confused because the diverse mythologies, shaped
by oral and literary history, simply could not be merged with the
emerging new religion, Yahwism? The latter seems likely. Although
Yahwism derives ultimately from Moses, it was shaped more
definitively from 1100 to 800 BCE.
The Nachash appears suddenly in the Eden Story. Slowly it
became apparent, through our research, that “Nachash” should not be
translated as “serpent” in Genesis 3:1 because he is a “beast of the
field” (3:1 = 3:14) and because he is transformed by God’s curse (Gen
3:14). Jews who have given us documents in the Pseudepigrapha and
in Rabbinics wisely imagined that the Nachash lost his legs when
Yahweh God cursed him and was for-evermore condemned “to walk”
on his belly as a serpent.
Thus, it is surprising to hear, almost constantly, in many settings
that “the serpent tempted Eve.” As we have demonstrated, this one
short sentence contains three misconceptions. The Nachash in
Genesis 3:1 is a “beast of the field.” The woman has not yet been
named “Eve.” The Nachash does not tempt; it asks the woman a
question. These discoveries reveal that exegesis has been too
focused on philology and lexicography; it needs to be enriched by
symbology, narrative exegesis, and especially an immersion in the
context of the text.
Why did the serpent lose most of its pellucid symbolic power in the
work of the Yahwist? Was it because of the threatening power of
serpent symbolism among the Canaanites (and Jebusites in and near
Jerusalem)?
Yahweh God is portrayed as one who could not tell “the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” God is the one who receives
the credit (really blame) for a woman’s pains in childbirth and a man’s
fruitless toiling with a hardened earth (was not the earth also cursed?).
Why is God so miscast?
Yet Yahweh God appears alive in the world created by the Yahwist.
He knew that idolizing God and portraying God as perfect removes
God from the human world. The Yahwist seems to have grasped a
thought lost in recent theological works. He seems to have perceived
that a deity can become a god only by entering the human realm. He
also probably grasped that such a journey demands obtaining some
human characteristics. Thus, anthropomorphism is a divine feature
that weds the divine and human worlds.
We were astounded by the ancients’ thoughtful attachment to a
living being, the earth. They lived close to snakes, who knew the
water, earth, and subterranean regions in ways unimagined by
humans. The snake is not to be dreaded. The serpent is to be
admired; it will not attack until threatened. Its venom is reserved for
killing a prey that is necessary for survival.
Why is the serpent to be admired? Snakes have survived on this
planet longer than humans—well over seventy million years longer.
And the serpent is celebrated by Jews and Greeks as the animal who
has wisdom. What an accomplishment! The snake was elevated
above all beasts of the field, even though it could not close its eyes,
cannot hear, and has to swallow its food whole, often by dislocating its
jaw. It must slither on the earth without feet or arms.
The story of the serpent in our culture is a tale of how the most
beautiful creature became seen as ugly, the admired became
despised, the good was misrepresented as the bad, and a god was
dethroned and recast as Satan. Why? Is it perhaps because we
modern humans have moved farther and farther away from nature,
cutting the umbilical cord with our mother: earth?
We came eventually to the Fourth Gospel. We saw that the Son of
Man, Jesus, was a typos of Moses’ upraised serpent. As God told
Moses to make a metal serpent and lift him (or her) up on a pole so
those bitten might live by looking up through him (or her) to God’s
power of healing revealed through him (or her), so God announces
that it is necessary for Jesus to be lifted up on the cross so that all who
believe in him may have eternal life through him. We observed in John
3:14–15 the poetic parallelismus membrorum that clarifies a parallel
between “the serpent” and the Son of Man, Jesus. We perceived that
the positive features of the serpent, regnant in the time and culture of
the Fourth Evangelist, are harmonious with Johannine Christology:
Jesus comes from above to bring life and eternal life to those on the
earth. We speculated about possibilities in which an ophidian
Christology may have existed behind the Fourth Gospel and within the
Johannine community or school. We wondered to what extent serpent
imagery and symbolism is mirrored, perhaps imperfectly, in the
present, heavily edited, narrative of the Fourth Gospel.
We were amazed at the power in symbols. For reflecting minds,
they create an exciting world of thought and imagination. The Yahwist
gives us an Eden Story that is known throughout the world. We
humans who know the Eden Story dream of a far-off day when God
appears in the cool of the evening, takes our hand, and walks with us
in Paradise. In such an environment are animals, especially a serpent
that is attractive and converses with us, asking questions?
Epilogue
We have searched for the meaning of serpent symbolism over time
and through all known cultures. We have perused ophiology, and
exposed ophiophilism and ophiolatry.1 We have pointed to the
distorted exegesis of the Ophites who simplified the complex ophidian
symbolism of John 3, in which Jesus is “like” Moses’ upraised serpent.
They erred in seeing Jesus as a snake.
Now we shall conclude by reflecting on one of the great masters of
symbolism in our own time. He preserves the ancient richness of
serpent symbology. His name is Marc Chagall. Again, our observations
must be succinct and selective.
Through his genius with vivid and living colors, Chagall painted the
scene envisioned by the author of Genesis 3:6: “And the woman saw
the tree [was] good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and
a tree desirable to make [one] wise. Then she took of its fruit and ate.
And she gave [the fruit] also to her husband [who was] with her; and
he ate.” To the right of center of the painting, which is now on public
display in the Musée National in Nice, are two nudes, in pale blue; they
are holding each other. The woman lifts up her right hand and offers
Adam a bright red apple. They are contented and peaceful. Behind
them, in bright red, is the tree of life.
Around the tree curls a serpent whose colors blend with its
surroundings. The serpent is thus green at the bottom and red at the
top. Its face features a broad smile; it also seems happy. The serpent
is certainly not dangerous or threatening.
Chagall returned to the image of the serpent again when he
created the stained-glass windows for the Fraumunster in Zurich. The
scene also is paradisiacal. The time, however, is the future. Chagall
was trying to represent the time from the giving of the Torah to Moses
to the end of time. The effect of his work is so significant in itself and
as a fitting conclusion to a study on the meaning of serpent symbolism
that it deserves more than a perfunctory presentation.
The Chagall windows are placed in the restored late-Romanesque
chancel in the Fraumunster. They are featured within five vertically
curvilinear windows. The chancel, dating from 1250 CE, is a simple yet
austere feature of the Fraumunster, which contained colored windows
as early as the ninth century. Chagall is reputed to have fallen in love
with the chancel, stating that he felt it was there that he could best
express his biblical images in a holy setting. In fact, he went to Rheims
to paint the figures on the glass surfaces in grisaille.
It is surprising how Christian symbols are featured in the work of an
artist who comes from a strict and Orthodox Jewish background in
Eastern Europe. Russian icon paintings, with their interpretations of
Christian symbols, seem to be what first instilled in Chagall a means
for expressing ideas and feelings in art. And his chosen themes were
usually derived from biblical stories. At the center of Chagall’s work is
frequently a portrayal of the obedience and suffering of God’s chosen
people; at the heart of the art is often Jesus’ crucifixion.
This focal point comes into blazing view in the right window of the
chancel in the Fraumunster in Zurich; that is, in the “Law” Window on
the south side.2 Here Chagall’s oeuvre reaches a rare burst of
perfection, and he chose to achieve it in a grand scale (9.77 meters
high by 0.96 meters wide). This far right window is primarily dark blue
with drippings of red, perhaps representing blood that increases in
volume as it proceeds downward. At the top, suspended above the
tortured world, is a depiction of an enthroned Moses receiving the
Torah. The tables of the Law are in vivid white, stressing the purity and
truthfulness inherent in them. Rays of light from Moses’ head denote
his exalted status. A space separates this scene with the depiction of
disobedience and suffering, culminating in Jesus’ crucifixion—a band
of red streaks through Jesus’ chest and heart. Such colorful details
provide their own hermeneutic.
As our eye continues downward, we see a blue space that
separates this scene from a depiction of the Kingdom of Peace and
the appearance of the Messiah to come. The Messiah is depicted in
living red. Beneath him is an imaginative reconstruction of Isaiah
receiving the message of peace.
Only one item has not yet been mentioned. It is what is held in the
left hand of the coming Messiah. What is it?
As one might have guessed by now, it is an upraised serpent. The
serpent is larger than the Messiah. While Moses and Jesus occupy
two panels, the serpent fills two and parts of two more. That is, the
serpent occupies about twice as much space as the other dominant
figures. Appropriately for our improved perception of serpent
symbolism, the serpent is depicted in offwhite.
Most important, the serpent is the dominant figure in the depiction
of “The Kingdom of Peace of the Messiah to Come.” Here Chagall
seems to have captured the prophecy of Isaiah 11, which was so
instrumental in shaping the concept of the Messiah, the Christ, by
author of the Psalms of Solomon. Note now, Isaiah 11:8, the infant
shall play over “the cobra’s hole” and the child shall dance over “the
viper’s nest.” The serpent, the feared one, is transformed back into the
adored one through Chagall’s brilliant exegesis of scripture. The
restoration of creation is symbolized by the retransformation of the
Nachash. Has not Marc Chagall urged us to return to the source of our
expressive symbols and recover the positive force primordially
inherent in ophidian symbolism?
Appendix I: Biblical Hebrew Terms for
Various Types of Snakes
Prolegomena: Caveats
Perfunctory readers of the Hebrew Bible tend to think that there is only
one word for “snake” or “serpent” (V)!”!}).1 More learned individuals
might be able to suggest, in addition, and
.2 That would indicate that the erudite Semitist knew eight words for
“serpent” in the Hebrew Bible. Over a century ago in one of the most
informed publications on the serpent in the Bible, the learned scholar
T. K. Cheyne reported that in the TANAKH (or Old Testament) “writers
use eleven different words for serpents of one kind or another.”3 This
number appears again in The International Standard Bible
Encyclopedia, “Fully Revised” in 1988.4
Are there eleven different nouns for a “snake” or “serpent” in the
Hebrew Bible? Many readers of the Bible will find that number
exaggerated. In fact, I have discovered that there are eighteen
different nouns for “snake” or “serpent” in the Hebrew Bible.5 These
nouns are sometimes interrelated Hebrew terms for various types of
snakes. I have been surprised to discover that many of these nouns
for a snake appear only once in the Hebrew Bible; these hapax
legomena frequently occur in the Book of Isaiah.6
No one will be able to discern which type of snake each Hebrew
noun designated, not only because different names were given to the
same reptile in ancient Palestine (as in modern Israel and Palestine
today),7 but also because the ancient Hebrew-speaking sages were
not interested in a taxonomy of ophiolatry. Yet it would be unwise and
misrepresentative to translate so many different nouns with the one
word “serpent.” Thus, some order and a better relation between the
Hebrew and the English will result if we agree to translate each
Hebrew noun with only one English word. This method will establish
consistency between the Hebrew and English nouns, and thus avoid
the confusion found in translations produced by many different
individuals, as in the Septuagint and modern publications of the Bible
(notably such distinguished productions as the KJV, the NKJV, the
RSV, and the NRSV).8
Any good translation strives for consistency and avoids indicating
that all authors of books in the Hebrew Bible were simply thinking,
unreflectively, about some nondescript snake or asp. Thus, I supply
here not only the English supposed equivalent of a Hebrew word but
also the various meanings of the ancient Hebrew word. That is, that
while consistency in translating is an art and goal, the ancient Hebrews
tended to think generically. It is prima facie obvious that appears at
times to be synonymous with other terms; for example, it is parallel to
(“crawling things of the earth”) in Micah 7:17, (“asp”) in
Psalm 140:4[3], (“cobra”) in Psalm 58:5[4], and (“vipers”) in
Jeremiah 8:17 and Proverbs 23:32. The noun also seems synonymous
with (“Leviathan”) and (“dragon”) in Isaiah 27:1, and with
(“fiery serpents”) in Numbers 21:6–7. Obviously, all snakes
belong to the reptile family.
Since Egyptian phenomena lie behind some Hebrew thoughts on
and images of the snake, it might be helpful to state that reptile in
hieroglyphics is ddft, which gives us the Coptic . As we attempt to
understand ancient herpetofauna, we should remember that the snake
remains, even today in some ways, only a partially known reptile.9
It is imperative also to stress that biblical scholars and other
experts have uncritically assumed, without studying ophidian
iconography, that the serpent often, or always, denotes a negative
symbol.10 This tendency reads Paul (2 Cor 11:3) and Augustine back
into Genesis 3,11 and imagines unreflectively that Revelation 12:9 and
20:2 explain Numbers 21:6–9, John 3:14, and Barnabas 12:5–7. In
light of the professed conviction that we biblical scholars usually strive
to understand texts within contexts, it is disconcerting to observe the
failure to see the links between the Hebrew Bible and the ancient
Palestinian serpent cults (especially at Beth Shan and Hazor). The
“religion of Israel” is allowed uncritically to define “the multifarious
religions of Israel.” Imaging the serpent as dominantly a negative
symbol is myopic and uninformed; it fails to engage the complex
symbology of the “serpent” in Genesis 3, the traditions concerning
Moses’ staff, the upraised serpent in the wilderness, as well as the
tradition and cultic celebrations in the Jerusalem cult represented by
Nechushtan. Moreover, ophidian iconography increased with deeper
and wider positive symbolical meanings, especially from circa 1600
BCE to the first-century world, and especially in Minoan and Canaanite
cultures, climaxing, in many ways, in the Asclepian cult at Epidaurus12
and probably also in Jerusalem at Bethzatha.13
Only two examples seem necessary. First, to suggest, as too many
established scholars have done in widely influential commentaries,
that the Seraphim in Isaiah 6:2–7 cannot be examples of serpent
symbolism because “serpents do not have feet”14 misses the fact that
they do, not only in ancient iconography,15 but also in prehistory in the
Middle East (the Haasiophis with “well-developed hindlimbs”),16 and in
large snakes (in atrophied forms).17 Ancient iconography showed
animals with human elements or creatures with a mixture of animal,
reptile, and human elements.18 The Brooklyn magical papyrus of the
fourth or third century BCE depicts a serpent with two human hands
and two human feet (Fig. 27).19 The biblical exegetes who claim that
the Seraphim cannot be serpents have not read the early Jewish
sources and the evidence that suggests Israelites and even Jews
sometimes adored serpents. Such modern scholars, for example,
probably have missed the reference in the Prayer of Jacob that salutes
“the Father of the Patriarchs,” the Creator who sits upon “the
s[er]pen[t] gods.”20
Second, to claim that there cannot be any parallel between serpent
symbolism and Jesus, the Son of Man, in John 3:14 is to fail to let the
images be seen, as O. Keel showed some time ago.21 Hence, we
must avoid the simplistic assumption that the serpent symbolized
destruction and powers opposed to God, a position found, for
example, in W. Kramp’s Protest der Schlange: Signale zum
Umdenken. 22 It is now becoming obvious that in antiquity the serpent
symbolized not only sixteen negative concepts but also twenty-nine
positive meanings, including the complex ideas poured into the
uraeus, Ouroboros, and caduceus. Moreover, it is now certain that
these symbols often shown in works of art covered more than three
millennia and were popular in many lands, including the Holy Land.

A List of Words for “Snake” in the Hebrew Bible

In the following chart, I list the major biblical passages, and whether
the noun symbolically represents something Positive (P), Negative (N),
or Both (B). For convenience, the Hebrew words are presented in
alphabetical order.
Term Translation Major Biblical Passages Symbol
1. “sand viper”23 Isa 30:6, 59:5 N

This Hebrew noun can denote any poisonous snake,24 yet A. Bahat
and M. Mishor suggest is the echis colorata. 25 The noun is a
figure of speech in Job 20:16, “He sucks the poison of cobras; The
tongue of the sand viper kills him.” The Hebrew ‘eph’eh may be
onomatopoetic; that is, it may originate from an attempt to mimic the
hissing of a snake.26 The same may be said about all Hebrew names
for a serpent in which p or ph appear. In Isaiah 30:6 the “sand viper,”
along with other creatures, especially the lion, are “the beasts of the
South” who come from “the land of trouble and anguish,” namely,
Egypt. In the Hebrew Bible, the verb nV3 appears only once, in Isaiah
42:14; it represents the groaning when one is in pain, as a woman in
labor. The verb seems cognate to and the noun would then have
arisen from thoughts on the pain when the “sand viper” bit a human.
The translators of the Septuagint rendered the Hebrew noun
variously (octnq in Job 20:16, aomSeq in Isaiah 30:6, paoiliOKoq
[exi8va in Aquila] in Isa 59:5). The Hebrew can be equivalent to
exi8va,27 “viper,” in Acts 28:3. This Greek noun in Matthew and Luke
signifies “unbelievers,” “hypocrites,” and “evil people” (Mt 3:7, 12:34,
23:33; Lk 3:7).28 The noun nVQH appears among the Qumran Scrolls,
notably in the Thanksgiving Hymns. 29
2. “dragon-snake” Deut 33:22 ?
The meaning of the Hebrew noun was once clear to scholars. It
denoted only a proper name of a place, Bashan,30 which was identified
as the Kingdom of Og, the territory east of the Jordan, extending from
the Jabbok River to Mount Her-mon.31
Does this noun also have another meaning? The translator of the
Septuagint in Psalm 68(67):23(22) seems to have been somewhat
confused; he capitalized “from” and merely transliterated Bashan” (‘EK
Baoav).32 The translator of the passage in the Peshitta has rendered
(and there is no reason to postulate a variant)33 with the interesting
“which [is] from the house of teeth,” or better idiomatically
“from the edge of a steep rock.”34 The Peshitta text probably resulted
from a Syriac scribe’s guess concerning the meaning of the Greek.
That translation presents a meaningful rendering of Psalm 68 [67 in
the LXX, but 68 in the Peshitta]. A lucid translation, however, should
not be misleading in regard to the sense of the original Hebrew.
We receive no help in understanding this Hebrew noun from the
hundreds of manuscripts found in the Qumran caves.35 The word does
not appear; a similar form is found, however, but the form is the noun
“tooth” with a preformative beth. In the Copper Scroll we find “in a rock
peak (or cliff)” , which is literally “in the tooth of a rock”). The
form in the Temple Scroll,] , is again simply “tooth” plus the
preposition (11QT 61.12 [an echo of the lex talionis following Deut
19:21]). Both passages in these scrolls parallel what we observed
regarding the Peshitta of Psalm 68. Thus, while we have more data for
ascertaining the meaning of the noun and root in antiquity, there is still
no convincing evidence in extant Hebrew manuscripts that denoted
a snake.
The most help in comprehending as having a second meaning,
“dragon-snake,” comes from cognate languages.36 The Ugaritic
triliteral root b th n37 (btn) and the Akkadian basmu are cognate to the
Hebrew triliteral b sh n and the Aramai n. These terms are equal to the
Arabic batan. 38 All these nouns denote some type of “dragon” or
“snake.” Koehler and Baumgartner (et al.) indicate that the Hebrew
denotes a type of serpent similar to , “cobra.”39 As already intimated,
the key to the Hebrew may now be found in the Ugaritic btn, which is a
type of serpent akin to , “dragon.”40
This research leads us to a well-known vexing problem in Psalm
68:23[22]. Here is the usual translation:
The Lord said, “I will bring back from Bashan,
I will bring [them] back from the depths of the sea.”41

The translation is far from lucid and transparent.

Long ago, W. F. Albright contended that Psalm 68:23[22] is a
passage with at least one word missing.42 He restored the second
colon as follows:

The bicolon thus means:

YHWH said,
From <smiting the Serpent I return,
I return from destroying the Sea!

This meaning depends on the presupposition or perception:

that Psalm 68 is a catalogue of the beginnings of poems

that verse 23(22) is the incipit of a poem
that one cannot appeal to a general context for this verse
that a word has been lost
that this word is
 that the Psalm is to be interpreted in light of south Canaanite,
especially Uga-ritic poems43
and that the verb is a Qal, “I will return,” and not a Hiphil, “I will
bring back” (this seems to demand an emendation from 2’V)K to
44

Most drastic, as Albright admitted, is the emendation of .

The change of the lamed to a mem is extreme. It is an emendation “for
which no similarity of form or mechanical error of a copyist can be
adduced.”45 This admission reveals that perhaps there may be a less
drastic solution to this verse.46 Moreover, Albright claimed that one
should not appeal to context, in rendering this verse, since Psalm 68 is
basically a catalogue containing incipits from early Canaanite or
Hebrew poems.
What seems persuasive now, so many years after Albright’s
ingenious hypothesis? It appears obvious that the Ugaritic language
and Canaanite myths are essential in understanding the Psalms, that
the meter demands restoring a word in colon one, and that this
restoration must be in line with the synonymous parallelismus
membrorum of the bicolon so that this restoration is harmonious with
“from the depths of the sea,” or some similar understanding, as in
Albright’s restoration and rendering.
Albright argued that we “must almost certainly insert here in
order to complete both sense and metric form.” These three
consonants were presumably lost “by a combination of vertical
haplography and homoioarkton.” 47 Most important, Albright rightly
perceived that]? denoted a serpent in verse 23(22). He was the first
scholar to argue that this noun must mean a serpent, and he derived
this meaning from an intimate understanding of Akkadian, Syrian
Arabic, and especially Ugaritic.48
Does “Bashan” mean a type of serpent or snake? It is now certain
that “Bashan” means “serpent” in Northwest Semitics (including
Akkadian, Ugaritic, Hebrew, Aramaic, and related dialects)49 because
of a reading in the Ugaritic text RS 15.134. This mythological text
presents a discussion between Baal and Anat after their victory over
the dragon Tannin. In line six we find hr bsnm,50 which means “the
hole (or den) of snakes.”51 C. Virolleaud took hr bsnm to mean “trou de
vipères” (“cave of vipers”) and drew attention to the famous in
Isaiah 11:8, which denotes “the den of a cobra.”
 This Ugaritic text serves to guide us in restoring Psalm 68:23(22). It
is possible, perhaps probable, that this section of Psalm 68 (now vv.
23–24[22–23]) once read:
The Lord spoke:
“From [the den of] the dragon-snake I will bring [them] back,
I will bring [them] back from the depths of the sea,
So that your foot might crush [them] in blood,
And the tongues of your dogs [may have] their portion from [your] enemies.”

This rendering restores, within brackets, an original . 52 The

original 3 + 3 meter is also restored; thus, the bicolon has a
harmonious rhythm of 3 + 3 followed by 3 + 3.53 Experts may have
overlooked the missing beat in the first colon since they may have not
observed that “ that begins what we call verse 23(22) is outside
the meter of the first colon and was intended to introduce the bicolon.
What is the date of Psalm 68? Many scholars date it early; that is,
long before the exilic period. A very early date for the traditions in
Psalm 68 seems demanded since God is associated with the
mountains of Bashan.54 Note S. Terrien’s translation of 68:16,
The mount of Bashan would be the mount of God,
Mount of a thousand hills, the mount of Bashan.55

The text continues to stress that this “mount of Bashan” is where God
desires to dwell, and that he will “dwell [in it] forever” ( ; Ps 68:16–
17[15–16]).56 Such an affirmation is impossible in Israel and Judea
after the sixth century BCE. That is the period either of the sixth-century
BCE editor known as “the Deuteronomist” (Dtr), advocated by M.
Noth,57 or of the slightly earlier Deuteronomistic school, espoused by
E. W. Nicholson and M. Weinfeld.58 This school, among other
tendencies, emphasized that Jerusalem, and only Jerusalem, was the
abode of YHWH. Thus, the celebration of Bashan as God’s abode
antedated by a considerable margin the Deuteronomic affirmation that
became authoritative in Judaism.
The emphasis on Jerusalem as YHWH’S home clearly antedates the
sixth century BCE. As recorded in 1 Kings 11:36 and 15:4 and 2 Kings
8:19, God gave David, and his descendants, a lamp in Jerusalem.59
The Zion tradition definitively shapes Psalms 78:68 and 132:13, and
as J. J. M. Roberts states: “[I]ts crystallization point must still be sought
in the Davidic-Solomonic era.”60 Perhaps Psalm 68 is as early as
Albright suggested: in the Solomonic period. Anderson offers a viable
suggestion that the Sitz im Leben is the autumnal festival when YHWH’S
kingship was celebrated and his mighty deeds acclaimed.61 Surely, the
traditions we have isolated in Psalm 68, especially verse 16, must
antedate the Zion tradition that in the tenth century BCE began to be
dogma. Note Roberts’ words: “The fundamental point necessary for
the formation of the Zion tradition was the belief that Yahweh had
chosen Jerusalem as his permanent abode. That dogma could not
date much later than David’s decision to move the ark to Jerusalem,
and certainly not later than the decision to build the temple there.”62
Verse 16(15), “the mountain of Elohim [is] the mountain of Bashan,”
clashes with verse 30(29) (“your Temple at Jerusalem”), which refers
to Solomon’s Temple.63 It seems prima facie evidence that verses
16(15) and 23(22) preserve traditions that both antedate the monarchy
and reflect the popular Canaanite myth about Baal and how he
defeated Bashan.
Is not some restoration needed in Psalm 68:23(22)? Something in
the first colon needs to parallel “the depths of” in the second colon. On
the basis of the poetic meter and syntax, and in light of the Ugaritic
phrase, which was perhaps a cliché, the meaning of Psalm 68:23(22)
may be restored. The context implies the word “them,” which is to be
understood as a reference to “God’s enemies” mentioned in the
preceding verse (68:22[21]). The “God of our salvation” will bring back
“his enemies” from far distant regions: “the [den of] the snake” and “the
depths of the sea.” It seems that the God of salvation, the one to
whom belongs “escape from death,” is bringing into judgment his
enemies, those still alive (68:22[21]) and those who are in the den of
the dragon-snake or in the depths of the sea; that is, all who have
died, either on land or on sea. Thus, it is not necessary to emend the
texts, which is always a precarious act, to obtain, as Gunkel did, a
translation that is appealing: “From the furnace of fire I will bring them
back.”64
M. Dahood, who wisely employed Ugaritic to shine light on dark
passages in the Psalms, has provided a different understanding of
Psalm 68:23(22). What is important is that he perceives that Bashan in
this verse refers to a dragon-snake or serpent:
The Lord said:
“I stifled the Serpent,
muzzled the Deep Sea.”65

In his notes, Dahood points out that bdtdn “is another name for
Leviathan, as appears from UT 67.I.12.”66 The translators of the NEB
also opted to bring out a reference to a snake in Psalm 68:23(22):
“from the Dragon.”
It now becomes clearer that in biblical Hebrew “Bashan” can
denote a mythical snake: a dragon-snake. With this lexical insight and
a restored text and meter, we can now appreciate the synonymous
parallelismus membrorum. It is between “from the den of the dragon-
snake” and “from the depths of the sea” ( ).67
Is Psalm 68 fundamentally a catalogue of early Hebrew poems as
Albright argued long ago? Most scholars have not been persuaded by
his attempt to solve the seeming disjunctions that define this psalm.
Many experts have followed Mowinckel, mutatis mutandis, in seeing
Psalm 68 with some unity and as a processional psalm for the
Jerusalem cult. Thus, it is helpful to quote Mowinckel’s conclusion. He
grouped Psalms 24, 68, 118, and 132 as festal procession psalms. Of
them he wrote:
They can only be understood in connexion with a vision of the procession itself and its different
acts and scenes. The interpreter has to use both the descriptions of such cultic processions
and the allusions to them in other Old Testament texts, and his own imagination, to recall a
picture of the definite situation from which such a psalm cannot be separated. Only thus it is
possible to find the inner connexion between the apparently incoherent stanzas of, e.g., Ps
68.68

This interpretation gives pride of place to verse 25 in Psalm 68; it

follows the verse in focus now, verse 23(22). Note Mowinckel’s
translation (vol. 1, p. 11):
We are seeing thy processions, O God,
The procession of my God and my King in the sanctuary,
Singers in front, musicians behind,
Between them girls with tambourines. [Ps 68:25–26]

Mowinckel read Psalm 68 in its present (corrupt) form and with an eye
on 68:25. There is far more discontinuity than he allows,69 even when
we try to imagine the procession toward the enthronement of YHWH.
One should admit that there is nothing in verses 25–26 that suggests,
let alone demands, that one think about Jerusalem and its Temple. It
may originally reflect a procession at Bethel, Shiloh, Dan, or even a
Canaanite sanctuary as at Megiddo or on Mount Bashan. Yet in their
present setting, verses 25–26 are followed by verse 30(29), which
refers to “your Temple in Jerusalem.” Thus, Mowinckel’s emphasis on
unity in Psalm 68 lies behind the following reflections concerning
echoes and connections within Psalm 68 (in the previous paragraphs, I
was more influenced by Albright and the echoes from Canaanite cults
and myths).
If Psalm 68 is not a catalogue of early Hebrew poems as Albright
concluded,70 or if it is a catalogue of incipits but there is in some
passages a remnant of an original extremely early poem or extended
selections from an early poem,71 or a later compiler (the Elohistic
editor) placed similar thoughts sometimes contiguously, or if the Psalm
obtains its unity from the procession within the Temple cult (as I deem
likely), then one should seek to understand 68:23(22) within its
immediate context. With contextual insight is surely the way
generations subsequent to its editing would have read Psalm 68.
Terrien indicates that Psalm 68 “reveals a rather spectacular
structure of eleven strophes.” One of them is our focal point: verses
23–26 that Terrien concludes reflect an editor’s fascination with temple
music.72 As Roberts perceived, Albright’s thesis of incipits is
“unconvincing” and while parts of Psalm 68 lack clarity, “there are large
blocks where there are more logical connections than one would
expect in a random collection of incipits.”73 Roberts sees verses 22–24
as “connected;” they “may lead into the description of the processional
in vv. 25–28.”74 Roberts, and many others, are influenced by
Mowinckel’s position. He saw Psalm 68 as devoid of meaning until we
comprehend it within its edited context: a cultic processional psalm for
the enthronement of YHWH in Jerusalem, perhaps during the new year
festival and the festival of lights at Tabernacles.75 We should not judge
the ideas in Psalm 68 in terms of the logical progression of post-
Enlightenment poems; there is hardly a logical progression in Ugaritic
and Mesopotamian hymns (let alone in some sections of the Hodayot
or Odes of Solomon). 76 Even today, those who live in the West tend to
appreciate logic, while those in the East often find it annoying and
misrepresentative of life.
Assuming that Psalm 68 reflects some unity, we may look for
possible echoes of our restored text. First, the noun “n, “den,” seems
to echo “n, “mountain” in a preceding verse. In early square Hebrew
scripts, the two forms, n and n, frequently appear identical. The text
was intended to be read out loud. The two Hebrew nouns for “den” and
“mountain” sound similar. They can be indistinguishable when the
speaker does not bring out the force of the laryngeal (the ).
By choosing his words carefully, a poet (or the compiler) may echo
in 68:23(22) a passage in Psalm 68:16(15). Note the latter verse:
A mountain of God [is] the mountain of Bashan;
A mountain [of many] peaks (is) the mountain of Bashan.77

In this verse, appears in colon one and in colon two. The poet
then proceeds to develop his thought, so that a similar phrase evolves
into the meaning “the den of the dragon-snake.” Note how similar the
two passages appear:
har-’elōhîm har-bāšān
har gabhnunnîm har-bāšān [Ps 68:16(15)]

This text seems to be echoed in the restored text:

mihur bāšān ‘āšîbh
‘āšîbh mimmesulōth yām

Because an echo of a sound bouncing off mountains does not

identically reproduce the original sound, so the repetitive har-bāšān
(bis) is echoed in memory when one hears hur bdsdn. Even if Psalm
68 is fundamentally a compilation of incipits, some postexilic readers
would likely have heard the echo. It is also conceivable that the two
passages, now verses 16(15) and 22(23), were originally much closer
than in the miscellany; both reflect early Canaanite myths (“Bashan” as
the abode of God and “Bashan” as the enemy of Baal [the likely
Urtext]) and the similar lexemes are not only harmonious but most
likely created by the same poet.
Such a reader may have perceived an evolution of thought from the
mount of Bashan as the place where God dwells forever (68:16–
17[15–16]) to the extremities in which God’s enemies now hide
(68:20–24[19–23]). We have amassed additional data to demonstrate
that once also denoted a “dragon-snake.” Surely, it is not wise now
to follow the advice of H.-J. Kraus who has argued that in Psalm
68:23[22] Bashan is “certainly a designation for the ‘highest height.’ “78
Second, the context suggests that the thought of verse 23 flows
from verses 20–22. In 68:23(22) the poet (through the paronomasia of
double entendre) is drawing attention to the power of “the God of
salvation” (68:21[20]). God will bring everything and everyone to
judgment—that is, bring them back from a place poetically
representing Sheol (the den of the dragon-snake and the depths of the
sea).79 The Warrior-God, YHWH, is bringing to judgment all his
enemies.
My interpretation is not far from that of P. D. Miller. Note how he
renders verses 22–24:
How “Yahweh” has smitten
The head of his enemies
The head of the “wicked”(?)
Roaming in his guilt.
The Lord said:
I muzzled the Serpent,
I muzzled the Deep Sea. 80
That you may wash
Your feet in blood,
The tongues of your dogs
From the enemies their portion. [?]81

Miller was focused on the image of the “Divine Warrior in Early Israel.”
I am focusing on “Bashan” as denoting a serpent. Miller rightly found
Albright’s emendations “too extreme and actually unnecessary” (p.
111). He also is deeply influenced by Ugaritic, especially ‘nt: III:37–38
(= CTA 3.III.37–38),82 which he renders as follows:
I muzzled Tannin, I muzzled him.
I smote the twisting Serpent.83

In contrast to Miller, I prefer to see Psalm 68:23[22] in light of RS

15.134 in-stead of CTA 3.III.37–38. I take the verb in Psalm
68:23(22), in which it appears in colons one and two, as a Hiphil from
the familiar (with most scholars), and not as Miller, who follows
Dahood,84 from , “muzzled,” which is a verb known from Ugaritic
and Arabic, but not extant in biblical Hebrew.85
My restoration does not appeal to any emendation, as many
experts have concluded Psalm 68 must receive. It is not an unfounded
speculation. It restores the meter and the parallelismus membrorum.
That is, “the den of the dragon-snake” is parallel and synonymous to
“the depths of the sea.” The passage fits the early Canaanite origins of
this psalm that reflects the Canaanite myth of how Baal defeated both
Ydm (the Sea) and Bashan (the Monster). This dating of the traditions
behind Psalm 68 is in line with many experts who follow Albright in
tracing the traditions to pre-Solomonic Canaanite culture.86 As Miller
contends, “when verse 23 is translated correctly, we see that Yahweh’s
enemies are also the monsters of the cosmos.” Miller then salutes
Albright for being “one of the first to call attention to this theme in the
verse and particularly to the mention of the serpent Basan.”87
There is more that may be speculated. What is the etymological
link between the two meanings of “Bashan”? The putative verbal
source of this noun,)V2, may be bdsdn, and analogous with the
cognate Arabic; it would mean “to be smooth.” The connection
between the Bashan plain and the smooth skin of a snake becomes
obvious. As a place, “Bashan” denotes the smooth fertile and
stoneless plain east of the Jordan River with Hermon on the north and
Gilead on the south, so as a dragon-snake “Bashan” denotes the
unparalleled smoothness of a serpent’s skin.88 It is also possible that
in the second millennium BCE the place called Bashan, which is ideal
for snakes then and now, was noted for its vipers or “dragon-snakes.”
What then evolves regarding the meaning of other passages with
in the Hebrew Bible? More challenging than the passage in Psalm
68, which most likely refers to a dragon-snake,89 is the use of the noun
in Deuteronomy 33:22. This verse contains the only other time
appears in the Hebrew Bible with the possible meaning of “dragon-
snake.” Little help is obtained from the Targumim in ascertaining the
meaning of “Bashan” in Deuteronomy 33:22. The translator who gave
us Targum Onkelos paraphrased the line, explaining of Dan that “his
territory is watered by the wadis that flow from Matnan [Bashan]. ”90 In
contrast to the Targum, note the following translation of the Hebrew:
And concerning Dan he [Moses] said:
Dan [is] a lion’s cub;
He shall leap from the dragon-snake [or from Bashan ( ].91

This passage provides additional evidence that in biblical Hebrew

also meant “a dragon-snake.” In the parallel tradition in Genesis 49:15,
Dan is compared to a and a ; hence, as in Deuteronomy 33:22,
Dan is compared to a type of “snake.” The parallelismus membrorum,
which seems synonymous, indicates that “lion’s cub” is followed in the
second line by another powerful creature. Perhaps help comes from
iconography, since an abundance of iconographical images shows
lions and snakes appearing together. The translator of the Septuagint
again chose to transliterate, or perhaps knew the name of the snake (
).92
As just translated, the Hebrew makes eminent sense; there is
every reason to speculate that denoted “dragon-snake” in biblical
Hebrew. Perhaps the author is saying that Dan is like an agile lion’s
cub that jumps from a snake. Little sense is provided by the usual
rendering that indicates Dan is “a lion’s cub” that shall leap from
Bashan (a place).
 Albright offered a similar interpretation. He emphasized that
denoted a serpent. He suggested the following translation of
Deuteronomy 33:22,
Dan is a young lion
Which attacks = Akkad. sanāqu] a viper [bāŝān].93

No doubt should remain that denotes a snake in biblical Hebrew.

Research published in the late 1940s by Frank Moore Cross, Jr., and
David Noel Freedman should eliminate any conceivable hesitation.94
They offered this insightful rendering of Deuteronomy 33:22,
Dan is a lion’s whelp
Who shies away from a viper.95

Their note underscores much of what has just been argued; it

deserves quoting in full:
Contrary to the usual view, there is no natural association between Dan and Bashan.
Professor Albright has suggested to the writers the rendering bdsdn = serpent, viper; cp.
Proto-Sinaitic and Ugaritic btn, “serpent,” and Arabic btn, “viper.” Hebrew peten is possibly a
very early Aramaic loanword, ultimately derived from the same root. We read mibbdsdn for
metrical reasons; in any case, the article is not expected in early Hebrew poetry. bdsdn may
have a similar meaning (“sea-dragon”) in Ps 68 23; cf. also Ugaritic 67:I:1. It is interesting to
note that in Gen 49 17 Dan is described as a viper.96

There is now available abundant evidence that signifies a type of

snake in early biblical Hebrew; it denoted a mythical snake-like
monster: a “dragon-snake.”
3. “snakes of the earth” Deut 32:24 P for Israel97
“snakes of the dust” Mic 7:17 P for Israel
The literal meanings of both Hebrew expressions just cited are
“crawling things of the earth” and “crawling things of the dust.”
According to Micah, the nations that have persecuted Israel will “lick
the dust like a serpent [ ]” and they will “crawl from their holes like
snakes of the dust” (7:17). Compare the rendering of the LXX: “[A]s
serpents crawling [on the] earth” (coq ocpeiq oxipovteq yffv). Since in
antiquity a worm (in Hebrew )98 and a snake were classed together
as a crawling thing, it is conceivable that “crawling things” sometimes
meant a “worm.”99 According to the author of Deuteronomy 32:24, God
will send against the idolaters “the poison of snakes [or crawling
things] of the dust.”
The phrase in 1 Kings 1:9 seems to denote a place near En
Rogel at the southern end of the Hinnom Valley where it joins the
Kidron Valley. It was called “the Stone of the Crawling Thing (or
Snake),” “the Stone of Zoheleth,” “the Gliding Stone,” or simply “the
Serpent’s Stone.”100 It is clear that by the third century BCE was
a recognized, perhaps well-known, place, since a translator of the
Septuagint simply transliterated the Hebrew of 1 Kings 1:9 (“near the
stone of Zoheleth”): Jtapa tov)d6ov tov Zcoe)ie6eL
Most likely the “Zoheleth” on which Adonijah offered sacrifices was
an altar associated with ophiolatry and perhaps it bore serpent
iconography. Recall 1 Kings 1:9: “And Adonijah sacrificed sheep and
oxen and fattened cattle upon (or by) the stone of Zoheleth, which is
by En rogel.”101 Altars with horns have been found in many excavated
sites in ancient Palestine, and an altar with an inscribed serpent was
found at Beer-Sheba.102 Most likely “the stone of Zoheleth” denoted
(perhaps for the Canaanites) “the serpent’s stone;” but, for Israel,
these serpents were “snakes of the dust.”103
4. “Leviathan”104 Isa 27:1 N105
Job 3:8; 40:25; 41:1 N
Ps 74:14 B?
Leviathan, mentioned five times in the Hebrew Bible,106 is the name of
a mythical and legendary serpent that lives in the sea and is primordial
(note the German: “Meeresurdrache”).107 Most likely, the name
“Leviathan” was inherited by the He-brews and Israelites from south
Canaanite myths and traditions.108 Ancient translators of the Hebrew
Bible usually transliterated , as in the Peshitta ( [Isa 27:1, bis]). In
the Septuagint, the Greek translators choose not only “dragon” (tòv
SpaKovta [Isa 27:1 (bis)] and similarly in Psalm 74:14 and Job 40:20
LXX) but also “great sea-monster” ( [Job 3:8]). The fullest
description of Leviathan in the Hebrew Bible appears in Job 40:25–
41:26(41:1–34). According to Isaiah 27:1, a section of the so-called
Isaiah Apocalypse, Leviathan is a large, terrifying dragon that is a
“fleeing serpent” and a “twisted serpent”;109 it will be punished by the
Lord when the beast exits his place.110 According to some ancient
texts and iconographical items, this serpentine monster has seven
heads (OdesSol 22:5),111 an indeterminable number of many heads
in Ps 74:14), or only one head ( in Job 40:31[41:7]).112
Some positive symbolic meaning is also found in the noun.113 After
the Lord punishes Leviathan, he will become food for God’s people in
the future, latter days, or End-time (Ps 74:14). Thus, while was a
symbol of evil for the Israelites and other Near Eastern cultures,114 in
one sense, Leviathan will have a positive meaning for God’s people in
the future. This positive meaning—the body of Leviathan will supply
the meat course for the eschatological banquet—is usually paramount
when Leviathan is mentioned in early Jewish texts, like 1 Enoch
60:7,115 4 Ezra 6:50–52, and 2 Baruch 29:1–8.116 The much later
(probably post-seventh-century) Targum Pseudo-Jonathan renders
Gen 1:21 as follows: “God created the great sea monsters, Leviathan
and his mate [n’JU ““21]TP V?],117 that are designated for the day of
consolation [KnOTO Dl’?].”118 According to the compilers of Perek
Shirah, circa tenth century CE(but with older traditions),119 Leviathan is
depicted as saying: “Give thanks to God for God is good, for God’s
kindness endures forever” (Ps 136:1).120 Likewise, if the Lord made
Leviathan to play in the sea (Ps 104:2426), he cannot be simply a
negative symbol. “Leviathan” may have a neutral, ambiguous, or both
positive and negative symbolic meaning in such passages.
The negative meaning for Leviathan continued. According to the
author of the Ladder of Jacob, probably composed in the first or
second century CE:“[W]hen the king arises” (LadJac 6:1), “the Lord will
pour out his wrath against Leviathan the sea-dragon.” (LadJac 6:13; cf.
Apocalypse of Abraham 10:12, 21:4). Leviathan is mentioned in the
Qumran Scrolls, but what remains of the manuscript is only a tiny
fragment that yields no help in discerning the meaning of the noun (cf.
Qumran Pseudepigraphic Psalms; 4Q380 Frg 3.1). The author of the
Ladder of Jacob helps us comprehend that Leviathan is a snake-like
monster; for him “the sea-dragon.”
5. “serpent” Gen 3:1 P?
Gen 49:17, Ps 140:4[3] N
Exod 4:3, 7:15 P?
Prov 23:31, Ps 58:5[4] N
Isa 14:29 P for Israel
“serpents” Jer 8:17, Amos 9:3 N for Israel
Appearing thirty-one times, is the usual word for “serpent” or
poisonous snake in the Hebrew Bible; the plural is the expected .
The noun may be an example of onomatopoeia since nachash sounds
like a human’s approximation of a snake’s “hissing.”121
The noun first appears in Genesis 3:1 in which it is portrayed as
a “clever” (not negative “cunning;” cf. Prov 12:23) animal who can
talk.122 It is unlikely, despite the tendencies of translations and
commentaries, that the “serpent” represents only evil in Genesis 3:1.
For example, the translator of Genesis 3:1 in the Septuagint chose the
rendering “a most sagacious” animal ( ).123 According to
Exodus 4:3 and 7:15, God’s legitimizing of Moses (Exod 4:1, 5) is
placarded by the rod that is turned into a serpent ( ).124 When Isaiah,
according to 14:29, states that the Philistines shall be plagued by a ,
that symbolizes something good for Israel.125 The “serpent” is thus
parallel to a messenger from God; he aids and protects Israel. In
contrast to Isaiah, Jeremiah reports that the Lord God will send
serpents and vipers among those in and near Jerusalem because they
have sinned against the Lord (Jer 8:17). Again, the “serpent”
administers God’s will.
Rather than denoting only a biological reptile called a snake, this
Hebrew noun can denote a fantastic or mythological creature (cf. esp.
Gen 2–3, Exod 4:3, 7:15, Amos 9:3). The translators of the Septuagint
almost always chose to represent this Hebrew noun with the generic
term for “serpent” in Greek, octnQ126 however, in Job 26:13 and Amos
9:3 they preferred SpaKovu.127 The translators of the Peshitta usually
choose to translate as “serpent” ( ).
The noun (and 6c| h£) is generic;128 hence, in postbiblical
Hebrew a qualifying term or adjective like ‘OIK, “venomous” or
“poisonous,” is added. Hence, ‘DTK signifies “a poisonous
snake.”129 The solution for specificity with this generic noun is only
partly helpful, since one can think of numerous types of very different
poisonous snakes in pre-70 Palestine.130 Other constructs with are
known and they provide more helpful specificity, but do not inform us
regarding the exegesis of biblical texts.131
In the ostraca, letters, and texts found in the Judean Desert and at
Petra, V)n] appears. In these nonbiblical writings the noun means only
“copper” (viz. at Petra and dated to 28 CE and in the Nahal Hever and
dated to 94 CE).132
The negative connotation of increases in postbiblical or modern
Hebrew, since “an evil man” DTK) is simply, as in English, called “a
snake.”133 While the negative meaning of the noun is paramount in
postbiblical Hebrew, the compiler of Perek Shirah has the saying:
“God supports all the fallen, and straightens all the bent” (Ps
145:14).134
Evidence of serpent cults in ancient Palestine, though not
necessarily within the religion of Israel or represented in “Old
Testament Theology,”135 may be reflected in the meaning of the verb
. This verb appears only in the Piel in biblical Hebrew. It denotes “to
seek and give omens.”136
In the Qumran Scrolls, WTO appears in the Pesharim. In Isaiah
Pesher 3 we find the following collection of Hebrew words for serpent
or snake:
[O Philistia, a]ny of you, that the rod [that smote you] is broken, [for from the root of the] snake
will co[me] [a viper, and its off]spr[ing will be a] flying f[iery] s[erpent.]137

These lines are taken from Isaiah 14, beginning with verse 28.
In Hebrew, the root nhs denotes not only snake (ndhds [with accent
on the second syllable]) but also “divination” or “magic curse” (nahas
[with accent on the first syllable]). While it is conceivable, but unlikely,
that the two meanings are related etymologically in Hebrew, some,
maybe many, Hebrews, Israelites, and Jews imagined the “serpent” to
be related to divination. Evidence of ophiomancy, divination through
serpents, was well known in the ancient world and no doubt was
practiced by many in Israel since passages in both the Law and the
Prophets repeatedly condemn such practices.
6. “bronze serpent” Num 21:4–9 P
Moses made a “bronze serpent” so that those who had been bitten by
“fiery serpents” ( )138 and looked up at the “bronze serpent”
would be cured from the deadly bite (Num 21:4–9). Early worshippers
in Jerusalem, up until the time of Hezekiah (who destroyed it), thought
the bronze serpent in the Temple, apparently worshipped by some
devotees of Yahweh, was the one Moses had made in the wilderness
(2 Kgs 18:4). The Tlttn:) seems to be a mixture of , “serpent,” and
Tlttn:), “bronze.” Clearly, the apotropaic function of the “bronze
serpent” is salubrious and positive.
7. “asp” Ps 140:3[4] N
The noun can denote any viper or an asp.139 Evil and violent men
sharpen their tongues “like a serpent [ ]” and the “poison of an asp is
under their lips” (Ps 140:3[4]). Since in the Hebrew Bible the noun for
“asp” appears only in Psalm 140:3[4] and there it draws attention from
the asp to evil men, it is far from clear what type of serpent or snake
the author had in mind (and it is not to be presumed that he could
distinguish among the various species [which had not yet received
names]). The English “asp” seems the best choice for 21V)DV, since
the Greek translators of Psalm 140, who had access to a vocabulary
more advanced than in Hebrew for snakes, chose “the poison of asps”
(Eoq aojtiScov) in verse 4 (as also in the Peshitta: cK-ajDrrr:!). The
sound ‘khshubh may have originated from the attempt to mimic the
sound of an asp.140
8. , “cobra”141 Ps 91:13 N
“cobras” Deut 32:33, Job 20:14, 16 N
The noun appears only in Isaiah 11:8 and Psalm 58:5; is found
in Deuteronomy 32:33 and Job 20:14, 16. The best choice, in light of a
full study of all Hebrew nouns denoting a type of snake, seems to be
“cobra.” While the noun can denote any asp or viper (KB 3.990
chooses “horned viper”),142 the terminus technicus seems to be naja
haje. One cannot expect the translators of the KJV of 1611 to chose
“cobra,” since the noun “cobra” was not an English word until about
1668.
Those who make the Lord and the Most High their dwelling place
“shall tread on the cobra” (Ps 91:13).143 This passage in Psalm 91 is
significant for a better understanding of ophidian vocabulary. Note the
comparison of the Hebrew and Greek:
You shall tread upon the lion [Gk “asp,” aoniSa] and the cobra [ , ],
The young lion and dragon [ ] you shall trample underfoot.
[Ps 91:13]

The Greek translators apparently did not know what] denoted,

choosing in Psalm 58[7]:4, in Psalm 91:13 as well as
Deuteronomy 32:33, and in Job 20:16.144
While gives us ptn, it is unlikely that it explains the Greek
“Python” (n-uGcov).145 The Greek had a separate history; for example,
Apollo defeated the Python at Delphi.
The present comparison discloses not only the broader vocabulary
for snakes and serpents in Greek over Hebrew, but also the creativity
of the translator and probably not a putative divergent Hebrew
manuscript behind the Greek. The parallel to Hebrew ptn is the
Ugaritic btn; it also denotes a certain type of poisonous snake.146
Perhaps ptn originated and was pronounced pthn to approximate the
hissing of a snake.
Iconographers focusing on this passage usually depict a cobra or
perhaps a basilisk (“little king”).147 Not necessarily negative, and
perhaps neutral and even positive, is Isaiah’s prophecy of the child
who will be safe with, or playing near, the cobra (Isa 11:8). According
to Deuteronomy 32:33, perverse children are like cobras’ venom. The
term]nQ probably represented the uraeus;148 and scarabs with a
uraeus have been discovered at Lachish, Beth-El, Beth Shan, Ashdod,
Tel el-Ajjul, and elsewhere in ancient Palestine, usually on the coast or
in Egyptian garrison outposts.149
Only the plural form, , appears in the Qumran Scrolls. In the
Thanksgiving Hymns it is chosen to represent the poison spewed out
by the men of Belial (1QHa13.27 [Sukenik 5]). In 4Q381 Frg. 26.1, it
appears with D’3’3n, “dragons,” but the meaning is lost since the
fragment provides no context. The plural noun appears three times in
the Damascus Document. In CD MS A 8.10, the author quotes
Deuteronomy 32:33: “The poison of serpents [is] their wine and the
head of asps [is] cruel,” then explains its meaning: “‘The serpents’ are
the kings of the peoples and ‘their wine’ is their ways, and ‘the head of
the asps’ is the head of the kings of Greece, who will come to do
vengeance among them.”150 In CD MS B 19.22–23, Deuteronomy
32:33 receives a similar interpretation. In both passages, serpent
imagery is used to bring out the negative aspects of the Greek
invaders of the Land and in CD 19 the unfaithful in Judea (cf. “the
princes of Judah” in CD 19.15).
9. “pit viper” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
The noun appears only in Isaiah 14:29 in which it is one of the
serpents or vipers that plague the Philistines on behalf of Israel.151 The
noun may also denote the legendary cockatrice or basilisk.152 No help
in discerning the type of snake imagined by Isaiah is provided by the
Greek translator who renders (“pit viper”) as “the young of asps”
(EKyova aaniScov). Perhaps sph’ is also onomatopoeic; it does sound
like a hissing snake, especially when the plosive and laryngeal are
accented.
10. “viper”153 Prov 23:31 N “vipers” Isa 59:5, Jer 8:17 N
Wine if not controlled will bite like a serpent ( ) and sting like a viper
(Prov 23:31). The LXX renders the former noun with the familiar and
generic “serpent” ( ) and the latter noun with “horned viper”
(KepaoTou) that is probably the Cerastes cornutus. 154 Again,
according to Isaiah’s prophecy in 11:8, the child will be safe playing
near the cobra and viper (LXX: ). According to Isaiah 59:5,
those whose iniquities have separated them from God have hatched
viper’s eggs from which a “sand viper” appears. This verse shows that
, “viper,” and , “sand viper,” are closely related, at least in the
mind of the author of Isaiah 59.155 The onomatopoeic nature of this
noun also seems apparent.
The form , with the mater lectionis, appears in CD MS A 5.14:
“[A]nd eggs of vipers [are] their eggs.”156 The author castigates those
who profane the Torah in the Land.
11. “arrow-snake” Isa 34:15 N for Israel
This hapax legomenon in Isaiah 34:15 seems to describe a snake who
shall “make her nest” in Zion. The relation with a hawk, in the same
verse, may indicate some type of snake. The English “arrow-snake” is
found in some lexicons157 and translations;158 the RSV and NRSV
erroneously opted for “owl.”159 An analogy seems to be with Arabic
qafazat, which means “arrow-snake.” Fabry thinks the VIQp denotes
“the arrow snake,” the most common reptile in Palestine, and identifies
it with the Coluber jugularis. 160 The translator of the Septuagint has
either reworked the passage or worked from a different text tradition;
hence, the translator’s choice of “hedgehog” (Exivoq) is of little help in
discerning the meaning of VIQp (which may not have been in his
exemplar). The Peshitta also has “hedgehog” ( ), but the translator
may be simply working from the Septuagint and cannot constitute a
separate witness. Likewise, Targum Jonathan has: “There the
hedgehog shall make a nest” ( ).161
The Septuagint, Peshitta, and Targum (and there is most likely
some interdependence here) cumulatively suggest that “T19p
—”hedgehog,” or “short-eared owl”162 —was in the Hebrew text behind
these translations.163 On the one hand, we need to recall that often in
Hasmonean scripts the dalet and zayin are indistinguishable; indeed in
many manuscripts VIQp looks very similar to 119p. On the other hand,
it is evident that in the centuries before 70 CE the Hebrew texts were
copied by Aramaic-speaking scribes who knew well the substitution
between Hebrew and Aramaic.
It is clear that 1QIsa has 191p,164 “hedgehog” (perhaps under the
influence of Aramaic pronunciation the waw was transposed).165 The
dalat is certain in this most ancient copy of Isaiah. Focusing myopically
only on the ancient texts of Isaiah, we are left with the possibility that
tlQp never existed in biblical Hebrew. One might be forgiven for
thinking that the noun existed only in the minds of some biblical
scholars.
At this point one might conclude that the scribe of 1QIsadid not
know about the existence of a word tlQp. That would reflect poor
methodology and confuse two questions:

1. “What is the text of Isaiah 34:15?” is not equivalent to

2. “Is there evidence that ‘arrow-snake’ is a biblical noun?”

We need also to ask, “Does the scribe of 1QIsaever employ the name
under scrutiny?” In fact, the scribe of 1QIsaknew the noun under
investigation. At Isaiah 14:23 he wrote:
166 And I will make [it]167 [Babylon]168

a possession of the arrow-snake.

The zayin is unmistakable in the handwriting. No one should expect
orthographi-cally tIDp and be concerned about the lack of a mater
lectionis; the noun is simply an example of the well-known, but poorly
named, scriptio defectiva. 169 In fact, the Isaiah Scroll has a remnant of
ancient orthography.170
In Isaiah 14:23 the MT has , “hedgehog.” This is a very
interesting reading, especially when one knows that , “serpent,” ,
“pit viper,” and , “flying-serpent” appear only a few lines later, in
Isaiah 14:29. Surely, it is wise to follow the lead of Kutscher, who
stated long ago that the scribe of 1QIsa“[W] as aware of the existence
of both words in Isa, but he wrote them in the wrong places.”171
In terms of primary data presently available, it seems wise to
imagine that tIDp in biblical Hebrew denotes “arrow-snake.” There is
evidence that proves this noun might well have been known to Isaiah
and was certainly familiar to the gifted scribe who copied 1QIsa. The
preceding study of the Psalter raises the possibility that tIDp meant
“arrow-snake” to a probability.172
12. “Rahab” Ps 89:11, Isa 51:9–11 N
Job 9:13–14, 26:12–13 N
It is unlikely that is merely a personification of the chaos of the
sea, even though the verb, with the same radicals, , means “to
173
behave stormily (boisterously, arrogantly).” The Hebrew radicals
seem to denote “Rahab,” the name of a mythical sea monster,
probably a serpent or dragon,174 slain by the Lord at creation.175 Thus,
the verb may reflect the stormy attributes of a mythical sea monster.
The conception of what God did at creation, calming the waters,
was mixed with a celebration of the divine intervention that parted the
sea and allowed the Israelites to escape the Egyptians.176 Note
especially Isaiah 51:9–10:
Awake, awake, put on strength,
O arm of Yahweh!
Awake as in the ancient days,
In the generations of old.
Are you not the arm that cut Rahab ( ) apart,
And pierced the dragon ( )?

Are you not the one who dried up the sea,

The waters of the great deep;
That made the depths of the sea a way
For the redeemed to cross over?

Observe how “cut Rahab apart” is placed in synonymous parallelism

with “pierced the dragon;” thus, Rahab is conceptually similar to “the
dragon.”177 The same identity seems evident in Job 26:12–13;178 there
“Rahab” is equal to the “fleeing serpent .” The origin of the noun,
and concept, seems to be Canaanite mythology.179
In Psalm 89:11 we are told that the Lord God has “crushed Rahab
like a carcass.” This verse certainly does not indicate that Rahab
denotes the chaotic sea. It suggests that “Rahab” is a serpent-like
creature that has been killed.180
13. “burning-serpent” Isa 14:29 P for Israel Num 21:8 P for Israel
The Hebrew noun seems etymologically linked with the verb with
the same radicals that means “to burn;” hence, the snake imagined is
one whose bite causes a burning sensation or a red (burning) color on
the skin.181 When one studies snakes and ophidian iconography,
which stresses the eyes of serpents, one may also imagine that
saraph denoted the red or fiery eye of the snake. According to Isaiah
14:29, the Philistines will be plagued by various serpents, including a
“burning-serpent.” According to Numbers 21:8, Yahweh told Moses to
make a Tit) and “set it on a pole” so that “everyone who is bitten (by
the burning-serpents), when he looks at it, shall live.”
The Greek translator chose for this noun an idiomatic rendering
“flying serpents” ( ), and that is the terminus technicus found
in Isaiah 14:29 and 30:6. Most likely, as so many nouns in this list (and
in contrast to Greek nouns for “snake”),182 srph sounds onomatopoeic.
The noun appears in the Qumran Scrolls. In 4QpIsaaFrag. 8–
10.13 it appears in a quotation from Isaiah 14:28–30 (see former
comments). In 4Q159 Frag. 1.2.17 it is the verbal form “burned.”
Under the basic root are categorized two Hebrew expressions
that denote various types of snakes. On the one hand, it is obvious
that not all adjectives associated with a “serpent” designate another
type of serpent; for example, in Isaiah 27:1 we hear about Leviathan
as a “fleeing serpent” and a “twisted serpent.” But, on the other hand,
some compound forms do seem to indicate a type of snake; at least
two with are significant. The first is combined with :
14. “fiery serpent” Deut 8:15 N
“the fiery serpents” Num 21:6 N
The author of Deuteronomy 8:15 states that the desert is defined by a
“fiery serpent and scorpion” (lipVI). According to Numbers 21:6, the
Lord sent “fiery serpents” to bite the Hebrews who had murmured
against God and Moses. Many of “the people of Israel” died from the
bites.
15. “flying serpent” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
Isa 30:6 N for Israel
Though some translators and compilers of lexicons prefer “winged
serpent,”183 it is best to follow, in seeking to comprehend , the
Greek translators, who had an advanced vocabulary for speaking
about snakes. See especially the Septuagint of Isaiah 14:29:
, which means “flying serpents.” This rendering is also supported by
the translators of the Peshitta. The translators of the Targumim prefer
“biting serpent.”
According to Isaiah 30:6, “flying serpents” and the “sand viper”
came from the South, which is “a land of trouble and anguish” (Isa
30:6). That seems to suggest that the creatures are negative for Israel.
The creature that swallowed Jonah, according to the Hebrew Bible
(and the Peshitta) is a “large fish” (!?VD 51 [Jon 2:1 (1:17 in English);
]). In the Septuagint, this creature becomes “a great sea-monster
(or whale)”:184 In the earliest iconography represented in the
frescoes of the catacombs, beginning in the late second century CE,
the great fish is perceived to be a sea monster like a dragon
reminiscent of Leviathan.185
16. “winged-serpents” Isa 6:2–6 P
In the Hebrew Bible, the Seraphim are mentioned in Isaiah 6 (cf. Num
21:6, 8; Ezek 1; cf. Rev 4). They should not be equated with the
Cherubim.186
The Book of Isaiah (esp. First Isaiah) has the most extensive
vocabulary for serpents in the Bible. Thus, the author (editors and
possible additional authors) shared an interest in serpents and serpent
iconography that distinguished them among the authors and editors of
the books in the Hebrew Bible. Since Isaiah is especially influenced by
Egyptian lore, it is wise to see the “winged-serpents.”187
Informed experts are no longer influenced by Origen’s suggestion
that the two Seraphim in Isaiah 6 denoted the Logos and the Holy
Spirit. Yet, some scholars still claim that the Seraphim cannot be
serpents because they have feet and wings.188 Note this sample of
opinions:
They [the Seraphim] have nothing in common with serpents except the name. (1941)189

It may suffice to state that the are … not snake demons … they are preponderatingly of
human type—though winged—as they have a face, feet, and evidently, hands, since one of
them can handle a pair of thongs. (1949)190

The word means “burning ones” in the transitive sense; the fact that it is used to describe the
serpents in the wilderness (cf. Num. 21:6,8) has led some commentators here to the illogical
conclusion that the seraphim of the vision were serpentine in form…. The seraphim … have
the hands, faces, and voices of men, and stand upright; and they have three pairs of wings.
(1956)191

Seraphim (lit. “fiery ones;” the English simply transliterates the Hebrew) elsewhere are
serpents (Num 21:6; Isa 14:29; 30:6; cf. 1 Kgs 6:23–28; 2 Kgs 18:4), but here they have six
wings. (2001)192

The Seraphim have wings, faces, feet, and human features; these
characteristics have confused some scholars who assume they thus
cannot be serpents. Near Eastern iconography, as the present book
illustrates, is replete with images of serpents with faces, feet, wings,
and human features.193 Thus, K. Joines and O. Keel rightly understand
this noun, Seraphim, in light of the cobra and the Egyptian uraeus.
Both were well known in Palestine during and before the time of the
eighth-century prophet Isaiah.194 It is interesting to note that the Greek
translator chose to transliterate the Hebrew: “seraphim” ( ).
The author of 1 Enoch stated that the archangel Gabriel was in
charge of paradise, the serpents (SpaKovteq), and the cherubim. G.
W. E. Nickelsburg suggests that these serpents “may be seraphim,
identified with the fiery sword of Genesis 3:24.”195 The author of
Genesis Rabbah 21:9, on the basis of Psalm 104:4 (God’s ministers
are like flaming fire), identified the Genesis sword with angels.196
17. “adder” Gen 49:17 P for Israel
The Hebrew noun , shephiphdn, can denote an “adder,”197 as well
as any type of viper including the horned viper.198 According to
Genesis 49:17, Dan shall guard Israel, being like the adder that
causes one on a horse to fall. It is not easy to discern which type of
poisonous snake this noun denoted, since the word is a hapax
legomenon in Genesis 49:17 and there had not evolved a taxonomy
for serpents when the author wrote these words.199 That is, as we
have seen, there are numerous words in biblical Hebrew to designate
a snake, but they were used sometimes interchangeably.
The sound of the Hebrew, shephiphdn, seems to be onomatopoeic;
thus, the one who originated this noun probably was trying to imitate a
hissing serpent. The Greek translator probably did not know what type
of snake the author had in mind, and rendered]9’ with the generic
octnq. The translator of the Peshitta chose “basilisk” or “cockatrice” (
).200 H. R. Cohen draws attention to the fact that]9’ certainly
denotes a snake, since it is cognate with Akkadian sibbu/ sippu that
are included in the lexical snake list.201
18. , “dragon”202 Ps 91:13, Job 3:8 N
203 “dragons” Ps 74:13, Deut 32:33 N

This noun denotes the mythical serpent that shall be trampled in the
future (Ps 91:13).204 While the etymological derivation of is
uncertain, it may be related to the Aramaic noun , “fish.”205 Perhaps,
since the verbal root of means “to wail” (cf. Jud 11:40), the noun
may have originated with sailors who, at sea, heard from the deep the
sounds of the whale.
Psalm 91:13, as we saw earlier, indicates that “dragon” is a good
choice for . The translators of the Septuagint chose, in Psalm 91:13,
the noun SpaKovta.206 The translators of the New King James Version
(1982), which is part of The Hebrew Scriptures: Hebrew and English,
offered this attractive rendering of Psalm 91:13:
You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra,
The young lion and the serpent ( ) you shall trample underfoot.207

The parallelism of the poetry, which is synonymous, indicates that is

similar to “the cobra.”
While the “serpent” symbolically was multivalent—representing
both positive and negative concepts—the “dragon” (which frequently
meant “serpent”) as a dragon represented the demonic (as in the
Babylonian Tiamat and Labbu, the Egyptian Apophis, the Persian Azi-
Dahaka, and the Greek Python).
A background for the Hebrew tnnin is the Ugaritic tnn; note this
passage:
H 37 I muzzled Tannin [tnn] 208 [the Sea Dragon], yea, I muzzled him,
38 smote the Crooked Serpent [btn],
39 the monster of seven heads.209
Again, the synonymous parallelismus membrorum indicates a
similarity between the “Tannin” and “the Crooked Serpent.” The
compilers of the Perek Shirah have the saying: “Praise God from
the land, the sea monsters and all the depths” (Ps 148:7).210

Summary

We have discovered that there are eighteen words, certainly not

termini technici, for snake or serpent, in the Hebrew Bible. Here is the
summary:
Term Translation Major Biblical Passage Symbol
1. “sand viper” Isa 30:6, 59:5 N
2. “snake” Deut 33:22 ?
Ps 68:23[22] N
3. “snakes of the earth” Mic 7:17; cf. Deut 32:24 P for Israel
4. “Leviathan” Isa 27:1 N
Job 3:8; 40:25 [41:1] N
Ps 74:14 B?
5. “serpent” Gen 3:1 P
 Gen 49:17, Ps 140:4[3] N
Exod 4:3, 7:15; Num 21:7 P
Prov 23:31, Ps 58:5[4] N
Isa 14:29 P for Israel
6. “bronze serpent” Num 21:4–9 P
7. “asp” Ps 140:3[4] N
8. “cobra” Ps 91:13 N
9. “pit viper” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
10. “viper” Prov 23:32 N
11. “arrow-snake” Isa 34:15 N for Israel
12. “Rahab” Ps 89:11, Isa 51:9–11 N
Job 9:13–14, 26:12–13 N
13. “burning-serpent” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
14. “fiery serpent” Deut 8:15 N
15. “flying serpent” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
Isa 30:6 N for Israel
16. “winged-serpents” Isa 6:2–6 P
17. “adder” Gen 49:17 P for Israel
18. “dragon” Ps 91:13, Job 3:8 N
To discover eighteen different, but sometimes interrelated, expressions
for snakes and serpents in the Hebrew Bible may be a surprise to
biblical experts, especially when approximately thirteen nouns are
known to denote a snake in Aramaic and Syriac, and these cognate
languages have a vast vocabulary that covers more centuries than
biblical Hebrew, and include the influence of Arabic.211 It is not clear
how many words for “snake” exist in Aramaic and Syriac because of
the lack of a taxonomy of snakes and the vast corpus of texts (some
not edited critically) that covers over two thousand years. Here is a list
featuring the major words for snake in Aramaic and Syriac:
= perhaps an indeterminate type of snake that causes
fear212
= Hebrew loanword
“cobra”? [see below]
viper?213
14 = Hebrew [cf. Peshitta of Isa 14:29]
= 215
 216 = snake
= Hebrew and other Hebrew nouns for “snake”217
218 = a type of viper?219
= Leviathan or “snake”
= some type of large snake220
= Hebrew loanword
= perhaps a small snake221
= Hebrew loanword (that explains )222
= a “creeping thing,” “reptile,” or “snake”
To ophiologists, the number of words in Hebrew for “snake” will not
be remarkable since there are at least forty-four types of snakes
known in the Near East.223 Moreover, eighteen is not a large number
compared to the nouns in Greek for snake (see Appendix II). That is,
thanks to the study of a large collection of Greek books on poisonous
animals, Philumenus’ book on poisonous animals, and especially an
Egyptian Brooklyn papyrus on ophiology,224 we can ascertain that the
Greek language in antiquity developed at least forty-one names for
snake.225
A study of words for snake and serpent in the Hebrew Bible is not
complete, even with a study of the previous eighteen nouns or
expressions. Other Hebrew nouns probably also indicated not “lizard”
or “crawling animal,” but some form of unclean reptile, including a
snake. Only four possibilities must suffice for now.
First, Leviticus 11 is devoted to the dietary laws, and 11:29–38
focuses on the regulations regarding the creatures that swarm on the
earth. In 11:30 the meaning of the hapax legomenon is uncertain.
It may denote a gecko,226 which is a type of small lizard that has
obtained its name, onomatopoeically, from the sound of its cry.227 If
corresponds to (= ), as in the Septuagint of
228
Leviticus 11:30, then the Hebrew noun was understood by many
Greeks as denoting a “spotted lizard” or “gecko.” This rendering,
however, is unattractive, since “gecko” is represented by , which
appears first in the list in Leviticus 11. 229

The noun may also denote “sand snake (or reptile).” In

discerning the meaning of the Hebrew noun, we receive no help from
cognate languages, such as Persian, Arabic, Aramaic, or Syriac. The
translators of the Peshitta chose a word for “salamander.” If nKVJ?
denotes some type of lizard, then the author of Leviticus 11:30 lists five
types of lizards without mentioning any type of snake: “[T]he gecko,
the land crocodile, the lizard, the sand lizard, and the chameleon”
(NRSV). Such a rendering is unattractively redundant. Far better is the
NKJV, 1982: “[T]he gecko, the monitor lizard, the sand reptile, the sand
lizard, and the chameleon” (my italics).230 This translation seems
preferable to those that opt merely for transliterations: “gecko, koah,
letaah, chameleon and tinshamet” (New Jerusalem Bible). We should
conclude that nKVJ? may denote a type of small snake.231
Second, also in Leviticus 11:30, onn probably means “lizard,” but it
may also denote an impure reptile, like a snake. This speculation is
stimulated by a study of languages cognate to Hebrew, since the root
hmt appears in other Semitic languages. In Akkadian, the cognate
form means “a lizard” or “a snake.” In Syraic, denotes not only a
chameleon but another reptile like a snake.232
Third, the noun ,” “crawler,” can generically denote a serpent
because it crawls on the earth (cf. Gen 3:14). The noun ”
corresponds to epnetoq which means anything that moves on all fours;
the Greek noun can also denote a snake.233 According to the author of
Genesis 7:21, the list of creatures that died in the Flood included
“creeping” animals. Some of these included species of snake (see next
paragraph).
Fourth, the generic noun seems to include snakes. The clause
, which appears twice in Leviticus 11:41–42, means “all
creeping (creatures) that creep.” The clause includes snakes. A similar
clause, , which appears three times in Leviticus 11:20–23,
denotes “all swarming (or flying) insects,” like bees, flies, or edible
locusts (recall Qumran and John the Baptizer); in this passage it does
not include snakes. In Genesis 7:21, however, the clause
, “the creeping [creature] that creeps on the earth,”234 includes a snake
(cf. Lev 11:29, 41–42 [compare Aramaic which also means a
“creeping thing,” “reptile,” or “snake”]).235 As we saw with Genesis
7:21, the verb ( eres) in the Qal means not only “to swarm” or “to
fly,” but also “to creep.” In his commentary on Genesis,236 Rashi
insightfully opined that the Sheratzim could include a reptile.237
Biblical scholars have incorrectly presupposed that the was
originally a reptile and a serpent. The Yahwist, who compiled Genesis
3 from ancient lore and myths, presents his composition with echoes.
Through his gifted ability to develop the characters in his story, he
presents the Nachash with human characteristics; he does not yet
crawl as a reptile. Genesis 3 begins with the words that the serpent
was the cleverest “beast of the field [ ] that the Lord God had
made.” The is categorized among the beasts. The author expects
his readers to know the concept later added to Genesis by the P-writer
in 1:24. God created cattle , creeping animals (or reptiles [ ]),
“and the beast of the earth” ( ). It should be obvious that “the
snake” is not like the cattle. And he is not categorized with reptiles.238
He is one of the beasts of the field or earth. After God curses “the
serpent,” the Nachash loses his earlier characteristics and is virtually
indistinguishable from the “creeping animals,” which includes, after
God’s curse, not only crocodiles and lizards, but also the snake.
Finally, more words for “snake” were probably known to the
Israelites and Jews than those that we can now find in the Hebrew
Bible.239 First, the books collected into the Hebrew Bible are now
heavily edited and reflect the needs of the exilic and postexilic Jewish
community in Judea in which, as we have seen, an interest in snakes
and serpent symbolism had already waned, especially from the period
of the prophet Isaiah. Second, the lexicon of ancient Hebrew has been
significantly increased due to the study of inscriptions and especially
the Hebrew of the Dead Sea Scrolls.240 Third, words known in public
parlance do not always make their way into written records. For
example, in the United States, Europe, and Israel, many people are
familiar with the word “arachnophobia” (the fear of spiders), but this
word is not found in the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) or in its
supplement.241 Thus, it is conceivable, but nondemonstrable, that Din
(hawwdh) meant “snake” in Old Canaanite (an ancestor of biblical
Hebrew). This suggestion is not novel and has been offered by other
scholars.242 Perhaps this noun for snake, hawwdh, never made it into
biblical Hebrew because it became established as the name of “Eve.”
The mother of life cannot be confused with the source of temptation or
evil, according to biblical theology.
This scholarly speculation is supported by a study of cognate
languages.243 In Arabic, hayya means “snake.”244 In Persian the plural
of haiyat, haiydt, indicates “serpents.”245 In Aramaic, , (viz. in
Onkelos), and (viz. in Neophiti) denote snake,246 and in Syriac
hewyd denotes “snake.”247
J. Wellhausen surmised that the striking similarity of the first
woman’s name Din (hawwdh) with the Arabic and Syriac noun for
“snake” should be explained by the assumption that the author of
Genesis 3 or his source knew this noun and imagined the woman
(Eve) in a serpent form.248 Wellhausen’s insight is in line with Philo’s
contrast between a dragon that is cunning and a friendly serpent that
is called Eve: “[T]hat friendly serpent, the counselor of life, which is
wont to be called Eve” (Agr. 95).249
In 1904, R. G. Murison asked: “Is the name given to the woman
(Hawwah, Gen 3:20) connected with the name for serpent in Arabic
(hayyat) and in Syriac (hewyd)?” 250 Despite the vast increase in our
knowledge of West Semitic philology since 1904, we cannot answer
Murison’s question with precise philological data. The name Eve,
hawwdh, may well be related to “serpent,” Kin, but this relationship is
no longer clear in Genesis because the editor of the myths behind
Genesis 3 often shows signs of not fully comprehending them.
Unobserved evidence of a possible relation between “Eve,” the
mother of all humans, and “Heva,” the name of a female snake in
ancient nonbiblical Hebrew, is found in Clement of Alexandria’s
Exhortation to the Heathens, as recorded by Eusebius in his
Preparation for the Gospel. Clement reports that the Bacchanals
celebrate Dionysus with eating raw flesh and being crowned with
“wreaths of serpents.” Most significant for our present purposes, with
these serpents representing a deity around their heads, they shout for
help to “Eva, that Eva, through whom the deception crept in [and death
followed in its train].” Clement adds the insight that “a consecrated
serpent, too, is the symbol of the Bacchic orgies.” Having reported this
aspect of the Bacchic orgies, Clement adds this impressive
information: “[A]ccording to the exact pronunciation of the Hebrews,
the name Heva, with an aspirate, is at once interpreted as the female
serpent.”251
The eighteen nouns for snake in biblical Hebrew can be organized
into three categories: specific terms, generic terms, and fundamentally
mythological terms.252 Here is a suggested categorization:
Specific Terms for Snake
1. “sand viper” Isa 30:6, 59:5 N
6. “bronze serpent” Num 21:4–9 P
7. “asp” Ps 140:3[4] N
8. “cobra” Ps 91:13 N
9. “pit viper” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
10. “viper” Prov 23:31 N
11. “arrow-snake” Isa 34:15 N for Israel
13. “burning-serpent” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
14. “fiery serpent” Deut 8:15 N
15. “flying serpent” Isa 14:29 P for Israel
Isa 30:6 N for Israel
16. “winged-serpents” Isa 6:2–6 P
17. “adder” Gen 49:17 P for Israel
Generic Terms for Snake
2. “snake” Deut 33:22 ?
Ps 68:23[22] N
3. “crawling things” Mic 7:17, Deut 32:24 P for Israel
5. “serpent” Gen 3:1 P
Gen 49:17, Ps 140:4[3] N
Exod 4:3, 7:15 P
Prov 23:31, Ps 58:5[4] N
Isa 14:29 P for Israel
Fundamentally Mythological Terms for Snake or Serpent
4. “Leviathan” Isa 27:1 N
12. “Rahab” Ps 89:11, Isa 51:9–11 N
Job 9:13–14, 26:12–13 N
Job 3:8; 40:25[41:1] N
Ps 74:14 B?
18. “dragon” Ps 91:13, Job 3:8 N

The Ancient Hebrews and Snake Physiology

The snake was well known in ancient Israel. It seems obvious, from a
close examination of the Hebrew Bible, that Israelites had carefully
studied the snake and knew its physical characteristics. The zoological
information regarding the snake or serpent in the Hebrew Bible often
reflects careful observations.253 Thus, the snake:

lives, or hides, in the desert (Deut 8:15), under a rock (Prov

30:19), or in the sea (Amos 9:3)
builds a nest in which it hatches its young (Isa 34:15)
moves in an unusual way (Num 21:7,9)
 strikes suddenly (Gen 49:17)
has a deadly bite (Gen 3:15, Amos 5:19, Ps 58:5[4], Job 20:14)
has a forked tongue (Ps 140:4[3]), hisses (Jer 46:22)
devours other snakes (Exod 7:12)
eats dust with its prey (Mic 7:17, Isa 65:25)

Except in the Golan and Negev, in which the large black snake is
appreciated for its protection of crops from mice and other harmful
rodents, most Israelis today fear snakes and seldom see one. Perhaps
only an Israeli ophiologist could match the ophidian knowledge of
Isaiah and his school.

Conclusion

The symbol of the serpent is multidimensional in biblical Hebrew. In

the Hebrew Bible, serpents are used to represent both a negative and
a positive symbol. The upraised serpent made by Moses is a symbol
that helps save people from deadly bites (Num 21), and the other
positive uses of serpent symbolism reflected in the Hebrew Bible lead
me to disagree with Fabry, who contends: “Nowhere in ancient Israel
do we find any possibility of developing a positive attitude toward
serpents.”254
There certainly was no serpent cult in biblical theology, but there
probably were at least innuendoes of such cults in the religions of
ancient Israel. Hezekiah had to banish from the Temple precincts
those who were devotees of and probably worshipped (perhaps
through) Nechushtan. Overall, it is surprising how Isaiah and the
School of Isaiah stand out in the Hebrew Bible in terms of an interest
in serpents, as represented by Hebrew philology.
Finally, any attempt to be precise in terminology—except in English
words to represent Hebrew nouns—fails to realize that the ancients did
not develop a taxonomy for animals. Even Aristotle’s Historia
Animalium is a factual survey; he did not try to construct a system for
classification.255 As F. S. Bodenheimer stated in Animal and Man in
Bible Lands: “[T]he large majority of animal names of the Old
Testament are definitely nomina nuda: empty names which cannot be
ascribed to any species, and often even not to a definite class of
animals.”256
Appendix II: A Lexicon of Words for
“Serpent” in Ancient Greek
Though Latin has primarily only two words to denote “snake” (serpens
and ser-pula ), and Coptic scribes usually chose only one word to
translate many Greek words for “snake,”1 the ancient Greeks
developed, by the first century CE, an extraordinarily rich vocabulary for
snakes. While there are eighteen nouns that denote a snake or
serpent in the Hebrew Bible (see Appendix I),2 forty-one words
probably denote a type of snake in ancient Greek texts.3 In Die
Schlangennamen in den ägyptischen und griechischen Giftbüchern, C.
Leitz reported on Greek names for serpents in an ancient book on
poison.4 This list significantly increases our knowledge of ancient
Greek words for the various types of snakes; however, it needs to be
supplemented by the names for the mythical or legendary serpents
that are found in E. Küster’s Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst
und Religion (on p. 56), a noun in the Septuagint, one in the Greek Old
Testament Pseudepigrapha, and studies of lexicons and ancient Greek
texts. In order to be consistent, I have organized the Greek nouns in
terms of the classical definition and English equivalent; as will be
evident, some Greek terms represent the same English noun. I shall
now present the Greek, Latin termini technici, and English words for
snakes known to the ancients who knew or spoke Greek.

This “good spirit serpent” or “good Genius serpent” produces good

(agathopoieö ) because it is benevolent (agathotheles ). It was
especially popular in Alexandria, but also appears throughout the
Greek and Roman world; for example, a fresco featuring
Agathadaimon was found in Pompeii. The noun ‘ specifies
devotees of the god Agathadaimon. 5

This “viper” is probably so named because of the “discharge of blood”

(haimor-roia ) when a person is bitten by it (cf. Epiphanius, Pan.
48.15).6 This explanation is also supported by comments by the third-
century CE physician named Philumenus (De Venenatis Animalibus 21)
and the second-century BCE Epicurean named Nicander (Theriaca
282).7
The “Asian viper” most likely derives its name because some Greeks
thought of the quickness of the snake (Nicander, Theriaca 491,
Philumenus, De Venenatis Ani-malibus, and Lucian, Dipsades 3)8 or
because of the “shooting forth” ( ) of poison from (or the tongue
of) the reptile (cf. Epiphanius, Pan. 61.8).9

The etymology of “Persian viper” is not clear. Most likely the name of
the snake is associated with the sandy soil in which it is found since
means “sand-burrower” (see next entry).

The fundamental meaning of “Horn-viper” in Greek is “sand-

burrower”10 since means “sand” or “sandy ground.”

While virtually every species of snake is amphibious, being equally at

home in water or on land, the Greek noun denotes a type of
11
serpent that moves backward or forward. Perhaps the noun denotes
the small snake (and worm) that has a head virtually indistinguishable
from its tail.

The noun also means “bright,” as in bright and flashing lightning.12

Perhaps the meaning originates from the lightning-fast movement of
the snake or its shining skin, especially in bright sunlight.

This name is the one the author of the Lives of the Prophets (De Vitis
propheta-rum ) chose to indicate the species of snake that Jeremiah
used to rid Egypt of poisonous snakes (Jer 2:6).13 The name of this
reptile is also probably etymologically derived from the Greek word
meaning “bright” or “flashing.”

The English word “asp” is a transliteration of the Greek name for the
adder that is more threatening to humans than the cobra because it is
more aggressive.14 Most likely this Egyptian cobra provided the idea
for the uraeus that signified royalty and kingship for the pharaohs.15
This is the first word in our list that appears in the New Testament (see
final comments). The word may be onomatopoeic since asp sounds
like the hiss of an asp.
Again, the English word is basically a transliteration of the Greek noun.
Etymo-logically, the word relates to , “king.” The Basilisk is a
mythical creature in Greek and Roman mythology. is also a
diminutive of ßaoOieuq, denoting “princelet” or “chieftain.” 16

Conceivably, the “Persian horn viper” derives its name from its
association with water, since means “to thirst.” Among many
possible etymological meanings of the Persian horn viper is the
concept of the one who causes intense thirst.17 In antiquity, the
serpent often symbolized “water” or was the guardian par excellence.
In Palestine in the Middle Bronze Age, many ceramic water jugs were
“decorated” with serpents whose heads were close to the top of the
vessel. They most likely were added to the vessel to protect the
contents, which could have been water, milk, wine, or other
commodities.

This noun does not appear in LSJM,18 Lampe, or Preisigke’s

Wörterbuch der griechischen Papyrusurkunden,19 but the author of the
Egyptian and Greek book on poison, highlighted by the work of Leitz,
made a distinction between SpaKca and SpaKtov.20 The etymology of
this Greek noun may be explained by the following entry.

The “dragon” or “snake” was often conceived to be a god worthy of

worship (cf. Aristides, Apologia 12).21 This is the second word in our
list that appears in the New Testament. The noun may develop
from , which means “to see clearly” and was used to denote the
fire that can flash from one’s eyes (as in the Odyssey 19.446);22 the
derivation is supported by a study of ophidian iconography, which often
stresses the eye of the serpent. Often interchangeable with ,23 as in
Revelation 12:9, sometimes was synonymous with the mythical
serpent-monster of chaos, Rahab. Some Christians identified the
“dragon” with Satan (cf. Rev 12:7–9).24 The dragon appears on shields
and military banners since , a Latin loanword (draconarius ),
denotes a “bearer of the serpent standard.”25 The word SpaKtov can
also denote serpent jewelry, notably the silver and gold bracelets,
rings, and earrings that were so popular in the Greek and Roman
world. It also signified the constellation called Draco (cf. Aratus, 46).
This Greek noun does not appear in Lampe or Preisigke, but it is listed
in the Egyptian and Greek book on poison. The compilers of LSJM, p.
450, suggest the snake is one who lives in hollow oaks. This may be
taking etymology too literally; it is true that means “oak,” but it also
denotes various types of trees. Perhaps the ancient Greeks thought of
this viper as one who would be found near or under a tree. While
iconographically the snake is associated with a tree, as in the Hes-
perides and the Garden of Eden, it seems there is no textual evidence
for seeing a mythological meaning for .

The noun or can mean a “fish” or “sea-fish,” but it also denotes

26
a snake. Perhaps the name derives from the snake’s association
with “marshy ground” ( ), but the rough breathing reduces the similar
sound of the two Greek nouns.

The noun denotes not only an animal that goes on all fours but
also a snake. The basic meaning is an animal that crawls. The verb
behind this noun is , which is found only in Homer (Odyssey
1.193, 13.220 and Iliad 23.225); it means “to creep” or “to crawl.”27
Thus, signifies a snake generically as a crawling creature. This is
the third word in our list that appears in the New Testament (see final
comments).

This is the fourth noun in our list that appears in Classical Greek, New
Testament Greek (Mt 3:7, Acts 28:3),28 and Patristic Greek (under the
influence of Mt; viz. John Chrysostom, Hom II.2 in Mt [7.150D]). 29 The
etymology of the noun is unclear. In Classics (viz. Aeschylus,
Choephori 249 and Sophocles, Antigone 531) and the New Testament
(viz. Mt 3:7; 12:34; 23:33; Lk 3:7),30 the noun can connote or denote a
negative meaning. The noun is also the proper name of a monster
(Hesiod, Theogony 297). It would be misleading to assume that this
noun always had a negative connotation. It can represent something
positive; for example, it can denote the heavenly chariot drawn by
vipers (Nonnus, Dionysiaca 13), which is elegantly shown on Medea
sarcophagi (especially the one in Basel). In the Sibylline Oracles 5.169
we find the noun (not found in LSJM or Bauer [6th ed. of
1988]), which means “delighting” or “rejoicing in vipers.”32 Sibylline
31
Oracle 5 was composed by a Jew, living in Egypt, between 70 and 132
CE; the author disparages those living in Rome and rejoicing in vipers.
Those against whom he polemicizes revered snakes since they found
“grace,” “goodwill,” and “beauty” ( ) in a “viper” ( ). Related to
is the noun , which specifies a young viper (cf. Aristotle, Hist.
a
an. 558 29). 33

The Greek that is listed in the lexicons as the messenger of the gods
among themselves (cf. Iliad 8.398),34 the Iris (as the iris of the eye), an
iridescent garment, a brightly colored circle, especially the rainbow,35
also denotes a “rainbow dragon.”36 The origin of the name resides
most likely in the bright or iridescent color of this snake.

This noun is previously known to denote the summer heat or

heartburn;37 hence, it seems that the name of the snake derives from
the burning sensation in the skin when bitten.

The noun also denotes numerous objects: eggs of a fish,38

something reminiscent of grains of a metal (iron or gold), and eruptions
on the skin. It thus seems likely that the Asian viper derives its name
from the perception that it had protuberances that resembled small
grains of iron.39 Epiphanius refers to a serpent by (Pan. 66.88);
there is no reason to imagine that this noun is to be distinguished from
. Another name for perhaps the same snake is .40

The Persian horn viper apparently derives its name from the stinging
sensation one feels when bit since the verb means “to furnish
with a sting.” The noun needs to be added to LSJM and perhaps
to other lexicons of ancient Greek.41

The Horn-viper is the proper name for this snake mentioned by

Nicander (The-riaca 258) and used by the Greek translator of Proverbs
23:32, since means the “horn” of an animal and means
something “horned.” The Horn-viper may also be associated with the
Cerastes cornutus. 42

The compilers of LSJM suggest that the noun denotes a “burrowing

snake” (see Aelian, Nat. an. 8.13 [of the second or third cent. CE]).
Since means “to be silent,”43 most likely the name of the snake
derived from observations of its silent movement, which is an
astonishing feature of how snakes move effortlessly and silently
without disturbing thin grass.44

The compilers of LSJM suggest that the noun meant “a kind of snake.”
They pointed our attention to Aelian’s Nat. an. 6.51, and thought
may be equal to (= no. 11). We agree and suggest that
, like , is to be identified as pseudocerastes persicus. To
preserve the distinction between the two Greek nouns, we suggest
“Persian horn viper” for and “the Persian horn viper” for .45
Lampe did not find the latter word in Patristic Greek. The name may
derive from its color since denotes “black,” and can also
denote a “black-tailed sea fish.” 46

This indeterminate snake probably was revered by Greeks,47 who

often kept pet snakes in the home. These snakes killed mice and rats;
etymologically, the present noun derives from the appearance of ,
“mouse,” or “rat” in its name.

This noun is the generic name for “snake” or “serpent” in Greek. It is

the fifth and final word in our list that appears in the New Testament,
and it is the word for snake or serpent that is most frequently used by
New Testament authors.48 The word can also denote serpent
jewelry, notably the silver and gold bracelets, rings, and earrings that
were so popular in the Greek and Roman world. The word also
denotes the constellation “Serpent.”49 The noun may be onomatopoeic
since ophis sounds like the hissing of a snake. Some Greeks may
have associated with , as the animal from “a hole.”50

The “four-striped adder” is the reddish-brown snake that was sacred to

Asclepius.51 The search for the etymology of this noun appears too
speculative.

The noun that now appears in the Egyptian and Greek book on poison
is not listed in LSJM and other similar lexicons. Is the name of an
unknown snake? We have not offered a name for the present snake
since it may be another means of pronouncing , discussed in the
previous entry.
This noun also is not listed in the major lexicons. Perhaps the “new”
word may have developed from perceiving the red coloring of the skin
when one is bitten since denotes the discoloration of the body “by
52
extravasated blood.” The new noun is not to be confused with the
similar sounding or “fruit-pigeon.”53

This noun denotes some genus of poisonous snake.54 It derives its

name probably from the burning caused when one is bitten, a pain
somehow associated with lightning, since means “to burn up
as with lightning.”

The is a species of spitting cobra.55 It etymologically derives its

name from the habit of spitting since means “to spit.”

This is a kind of snake whose venomous bite causes putrefaction

since means fundamentally “decay” and “putrefaction.”56

This snake derives its name from two possible meanings. The name
may have arisen because the snake, when it bites a human, causes a
putrid sore (from ) [or (N.B. the Future: ) which means “to
be rotten” or “to be putrid”]).57 It is less likely that the name was given
to the snake because it arouses intense thirst (from , which means
“thirst”).58

This noun signifies a serpent that is like a round stick,59 since

fundamentally denotes a “baton,” “staff,” or “stick.”60

Since specifies someone who is “blind,” the name was probably

given to a snake that seemed blind (some small snakes are blind). The
compilers of LSJM suggest that denotes a “blind snake” and
perhaps Pseudopus pallasi. 61

The snake probably does not denote a “viper” or vipera lebetina, as

suggested by C. Leitz in his Die Schlangennamen in den ägyptischen
und griechischen Giftbüchern. The noun evolves from xiScop,
“water.”62 The noun appears frequently in Classical Greek, being used
by Homer (Iliad 2.723), Herodotus (2.76), and Aristotle (Hist. an.
487a23 and 508b1). It may evolve further into , “an amphibious
reptile,” found in Patristic Greek (cf. Epiphanius, Pan. 25.7).63

64 The compilers of LSJM reported that denoted “a kind of toad

said to puff itself up” and “a poisonous fish which puffs itself out.” 65
Now we need to add the meaning “puff adder.” The noun
signifies a snake that “puffs”—obviously a “puff adder”—since
means “to puff.” The Greek noun does not appear in Patristic Greek.66

According to the compilers of LSJM, indicated only a “swallow’s

nest.” This is the meaning in Aristotle’s Historia Animalium (626a12),
but we now know, thanks to the newly published papyrus on ancient
poison, that the Greek noun also denotes a poisonous snake, perhaps
a “desert cobra.” Note that, according to the third-century CE physician
Philumenus, specified a kind of asp;67 hence, in light of the
new philological data, “desert cobra” seems a good choice. The
etymology of the new noun seems uncertain. The noun (note the
shift in accent) has long been known to denote a certain type of fig.

The second-century BCE Epicurean Nicander in his Theriaca (411)

used this noun to denote, perhaps, an “amphibious snake.”68 The base
meaning, of course, is a snake associated with water ( ); hence,
“water viper” seems appropriate. The Greek noun does not appear in
ancient Christian literature.69

The noun is not known to the compilers of the Greek lexicons. It

seems to derive from a poisonous snake that inhabits desert land (
denotes “arid land”).70 The Greek noun is not cited by Lampe,
and thus it appears not to be used by the ancient scholars of the
Church who wrote in Greek.

In his Theriaca (359), Nicander seems to use the Greek noun to

indicate some generic amphibious snake.71 Again, some type of
poisonous water snake is indicated for since it bears the Greek
word for “water.”
I have erred in the direction of being conservative regarding the
English equivalents. Thus, I have not sought to identify the Greek
names with English nouns not found in the list, such as black mamba,
Boomslang, garden snake, coral snake, copperhead, moccasin,
rattlesnake, black indigo, and others. Most of these names did not
appear in ancient Mediterranean culture. Translators of ancient Greek
documents, including the Classics as well as the Septuagint and the
Greek New Testament, have too often misrepresented the
sophistication of the ancient Greeks simply by equating the forty-one
Greek nouns with generic terms as “snake” or “serpent,” and
occasionally “viper” or “cobra.”
Etymological research provides two insights. First, many nouns
derive from the habits, effect on humans, or frequent location of a
snake. Second, the ancients knew the phenomenal world of nature
intimately. They lived in, among, and often with snakes; they frequently
adored, even worshipped, serpents. We have lost not only the
ancients’ language of symbolism (symbology), but also their
experience of the beauty and friendliness of nature. Translations and
interpretations of such passages as John 3:14 have been marred and
corrupted by the unexamined presupposition that serpents are snakes
that are to be hated. Many biblical scholars tell me they despise
snakes, yet this presupposition distorts the positive symbolism of a
serpent found among many in antiquity; for example, Jesus,
representing an aspect of Jewish Wisdom literature, advised the
Twelve, when he commissioned and sent them into the world, to be
“wise as serpents” ( in Mt 10:16; see also The Gospel of
Thomas 39 and the Teaching of Silvanus ).
This initial list, especially the guesses as to proper English
equivalents, will need to be improved by others, especially ophiologists
and experts on ancient snakes, so that the uses of “unknown” or
suggestions followed by a question mark may be replaced with a
better guess. It is clearly amazing how many words the Greeks had for
the serpent (the same applies to English). Studies based on the
Egyptian book on poisons, the Brooklyn Egyptian Serpent Papyrus,72
which informed Leitz when he wrote Die Schlangennamen in den
ägyptischen und griechischen Giftbüchern, have greatly increased our
knowledge of Greek and Egyptian ophiolatry.73 On the basis of the
information found in these publications and a minute study of lexicons
and of ancient texts, it was possible to compile the first list of ancient
Greek words for the various types of snakes or mythological dragon-
serpents. Such research was fundamental for me as I wrote the
previous chapters.
Although there may be forty-one nouns in ancient Greek to denote
various types of snakes, only five appear in the Greek New
Testament.74 This figure, 5/41, should not seem surprising because
the documents in the New Testament are theological works and should
not to be confused with zoological treatises such as a Historia
Animalium or a De Natura Animalium. Moreover, the Greek chosen as
a vehicle by the New Testament authors was targeted for the masses;
it was not intended to educate the intellectual in an academy. This
perception is not diminished by the fact that many New Testament
authors knew and did occasionally use sophisticated Greek (e.g. Lk
1:1–4, Rom, and Heb; contrast Rev, whose author thought in Aramaic
and Hebrew but wrote in Greek).
The five Greek nouns for snake or serpent that appear in the New
Testament corpus are (Rom 3:13), (Rev 12:3, 4, 7 [bis], 9, 13,
75
16, 17; 13:2, 4, 11; 16:13; 20:2), (Acts 10:12; 11:6; Rom 1:23;
Jas 3:7), (Mt 3:7; 12:34; 23:33; Lk 3:7; Acts 28:3),76 and (fifteen
times in the New Testament [including Mk 16:18]).77 This
lexicographical study reveals the richness of ancient Greek, and the
interest of the Greeks in Egypt from which much of Greek ophidian
iconography derives. It also discloses the penchant of the author of
Revelation for .
Appendix III: Anguine Iconography and
Symbolism at Pompeii
August 24, 79 CE, was a fateful day for the inhabitants of Pompeii and
its environs. These Romans, as they headed toward their tasks while
looking up to a blue sky and bright sun, would never again see a
peaceful sky. Their frescoes, paintings, and gold jewelry remain. As we
look at them, it becomes clear how much has changed, especially
regarding anguine symbolism. Almost two thousand years later, we
can pause and remember that horrific day, as we look at the outlines of
their gray remains. Some Pompeians remind us how to die; for me
especially poignant are the lovers who did not flee into the inferno,
deciding to “go out” holding on to what was most dear.
About a decade earlier, in June 68 CE, the Qumranites also faced a
tragic day. These Jews who gingerly placed over seventy scrolls in jars
and on rocks inside what we call Cave I would never see the scrolls
again. Many of these Jews scampered up the limestone cliffs, heading
west to find safety behind the walls of Jerusalem. Some may have
paused, and looking backward would have seen Vespasian astride a
horse prancing before a massive tower behind which a community
went up in flames. What the Qumranites hid in Cave I have become
some of our greatest treasures from antiquity. These Dead Sea Scrolls
contain ideas and perspectives we humans have not yet understood
and practiced. They mirror minds who found secrets about the spiritual
that still elude many of us.
Only eleven years separate these monumental events in our past.
Both Pompeii before 79 and Qumran before 68 had been devastated
previously by earthquakes. Pompeii was hit in 62 CE and Qumran in 31
BCE.1 As N. Purcell states about Pompeii: “[T]he sudden destruction
crystallized a problematic moment: the damage of the earthquake of
62 was still being patchily repaired and the opulence and modishness
of some private and public projects of the last phase … contrast with
chaos and squalor.”2 At Pompeii, and also at Qumran, there are vivid
reminders of an earthquake that antedates the final destruction.
It is conceivable that one or more persons witnessed both horrors,
the one in Judea in 68 and the other in Campania in 79. Perhaps one
who had worked in the Qumran Library also slaved in the Herculanean
Library known as “the Villa of Papyri.” Why are these reflections not
simply outlandish fantasies?
The Hebrew graffiti being found on the western slopes of Vesuvius,
especially at Pompeii and Herculaneum, are often left by Jewish
slaves. The inscriptions are “recent”—they were made shortly before
79. The Hebrew is common and unskilled, probably written by
uneducated Palestinian Jews. Their vulgarity contrasts with the
elegant and refined Hebrew in most Qumran scrolls.

Figure 88. The House of Criptoportico, Close-up. Pompeii. JHC

Jewish slaves were certainly brought to Italy when Jerusalem fell in

70 CE. Hebrew scrolls are known to have been seen in Rome in the
decades after 70 and they contain readings now being found in the
Dead Sea Scrolls. Josephus tells us that he was allowed by Titus to
take scrolls that were in the Temple (see his Life). 3
One cannot refrain from wondering: “Were any of the Jewish slaves
in Italy, especially at Pompeii, originally Qumranites?” Vespasian, who
burned Qumran, enjoyed vacationing in the area highlighted by Cuma
(and the Grotta della Si-billa),4 Quarto, Puteoli, Baia, Capo Miseno,
Neapolis [Naples], Herculaneum, and Pompeii. A temple to Vespasian
was erected on the southern side of the famous forum in Pompeii. Did
Vespasian in Campania ever recognize a face he had seen at Qumran
or in Palestine? The answer is “probably no.” But one cannot be
certain, and good historicity requires such imaginative reflections.
Is it foolish to compare Roman Pompeii and Jewish Palestine?
Again the answer is clear: “certainly not.” Trade had long united the
two areas, and the relation seems to have increased before 70 CE,
when Titus took Jerusalem. Trade between Campania and first-century
CE Palestine has become palpably evident. The so-called “Pompeian-
red” ware has been found in Samaria and elsewhere in ancient
Palestine. Excavators working in Jerusalem recently discovered
Pompeian rim forms. Their date is singularly important for us. Why?
The answer lies in the recognition that the wares date from the time of
Augustine to the end of the first century CE.5 That covers the period in
present focus.
Many who have written on Pompeii stress the extreme distance
between rich and poor. The houses of the wealthy in Pompeii are often
more opulent than posh apartments in Manhattan; they were
decorated with frescoes and elegant bronzes that make the modern
usually pale into mediocrity. The average houses are frequently far
better than the tenant apartments that multiply in and around New York
City. Thus, contrasts must be understood in terms of contexts. Pompeii
was a place for the wealthy; I know of no dwelling there that should be
categorized as a dwelling for the abjectly poor.

Figure 89. House of the Hebrew. Pompeii. JHC

A closer look at the remains of pre-79 Pompeii reveals something

astounding. Serpent images are seen on private “chapels” in homes, in
public thoroughfares, and especially on gold rings, bracelets, earrings,
and armlets.
Larari with Serpents. In Pompeii and elsewhere in the Roman
world, larari are featured in houses and homes. They are essentially
little chapels and small shrines that remind me of a similar modern
practice. Today, outside Pompeii in all directions I frequently see
niches outside houses; these are for honoring the Virgin Mary. The
human perpetuates the need for divine presence and protection.
The larari represent the domestic cult. They were destined to
ensure the prosperity, health, and continuity of the household. Romans
focused religion on household gods and ancestors.
 In houses, the larari habitually feature elegant images of serpents.6
Only a selection may be presented now.7 In “the House of
Criptoportico,” in the lararium of the peristyle, are depicted three
ophidian images: a large Agathadaimon,8 a serpent encircling an altar
(or fountain) then rising above it, and a depiction of Hermes with the
caduceus (I-16–2).
The “House of Menandro,” so called for the presence of a fresco of
the poet Menandro, was restored recently by A. De Simone. The
house has in the atrium, on the right, a lararium with an interesting
representation of a snake, but it is not Agathadaimon. The
monumental form of the lararium is an index of the wealth of the
owners. This house belonged, in fact, to a libertus of the family of
Poppea, the wife of Nero. There are undeniable signs of the
inhabitant’s wealth. For example, the house has expensive mosaics
crafted from tiny tesserae, and archaeologists found 130 pieces of an
opulent silver service for sumptuous dining.

Figure 90. House of the Pig; Shrine to Asclepius. Pompeii. JHC

On the wall in front of the entrance to the House of Menandro, on

the left, we may admire a scene of Laocoon with his sons, the snake
(dragon ), and the sacrifice of the bull. Not only Greek mythology but
Jewish traditions left impressions on those who frequented the house.
Near the garden, images represent biblical scenes (e.g., the Judgment
of Solomon) with exotic characters as dwarves and pygmies.
Moreover, one can examine the “images of the ancestors” (immagines
maiorum ) in wood.
The “Two Plans House,” also called the “House of the Hebrew,”
was built during the Neronian Period. Particularly interesting is a
fresco, in front of which is an altar. Featured in the fresco are two
Agathadaimons, an egg, and fire.
A snake with an egg also is seen in Region I, insula 11, entry 10.
The depiction of a serpent with an egg and before an altar clarifies that
the serpent symbolizes something desirable and positive, perhaps
fruitfulness (Pos. 2), creation (Pos. 7), the cosmos (Pos. 8), chronos
(Pos. 9), divinity (Pos. 11), and rejuvenation (Pos. 26).
In Region I, insula 16, entry 4 (179), is a lararium featuring two
snakes. Also, in Region I, insula 16, entry 3, one can see, in stucco, an
embossed snake.
In Region I, insula 11, entry 8, one may see another impressive
fresco. Most interesting for us is a depiction of Hermes (Mercury) with
the caduceus, and a priest with the praetexta robe. He brings in his
hands the horn of abundance, a lares with horn, and wine in a bucket.
Below him are shown two snakes. In the “House of the Pig” is a
painting of a snake and a pig. There is also a shrine to Asclepius.
Figure 91. Left. Priapus. Pompeii. JHC
Figure 92. Right. Bacchus, Agathadaimon, and Vesuvius. Pompeii. JHC

In “the House of the Vettii,” in the central panel of the triclinium, is a

painting of Hercules, as a lad, strangling two serpents.9 In the “House
of the Criptoportico,” already mentioned because of its lararium, is a
painting of Hermes (Mercury) with the caduceus and the snake.
The “Brothel House” at Pompeii attracts a long line of visitors. Yet
most of them do not see the picture of Priapus, inside the door, above
and to the right.10 He has two phalli, and he holds each in his hand.
What could be the meaning of this symbol? Is it a male fantasy to
double penetrate a prostitute? Is it a sign of double power and fertility?
Is it not more likely that the painting of Priapus mirrors the
fascination of Pompeians with the serpent? Would it not be
unperceptive of us to imagine that only we know that male serpents
have two phalli? While there is no clear link between Priapus and
ophidian symbolism at Pompeii, he does appear elsewhere (like Bes)
with a phallus as a serpent. Perhaps specialists in symbology have not
sufficiently studied the anatomy of snakes to see analogies in art that
were put there, or seen there, by the Pompeians. The link between
Priapus with two phalli and the serpent may be also indicated by the
fact that he is standing near a tree; in ancient art, the serpent and tree
are often associated (as clarified previously).
While working in the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, I was astounded
by the attractive depictions of the serpent with Hygieia. In Pompeii and
in the Naples Archaeological Museum, I was impressed by the many
large serpents displayed in frescoes and paintings. For example, a
serpent is featured in Bacco e Vesuvio (No. 11986). It is
Agathadaimon. He fills the lower half of the painting, rising up beneath
Mount Vesuvius, which appears tranquil and with its pre-79 top.

Figure 93. Arrivo di lo a Canopo. Painting No. 9558. Pompeii. JHC

In Arrivo di Io a Canopo, found in the Temple of Isis, a woman sits

serenely. In her right hand she holds an asp, who rises with hood
spread and tongue projected (No. 9558).
Other serpents appear in paintings and frescoes for the visitor to
the Naples Archaeological Museum (viz. Oggetti del culto Dionisiaco ).
Most of the artwork is from Pompeii. I have the impression that the
serpent was the favorite animal for the Pompeians. For them, it clearly
symbolized many positive concepts, ideas, and ideals. We also need
to remember that living snakes were honored in homes for religious
and practical reasons.
Streets. In “Vicolo Storto,” one can still see a large painting of two
snakes on the external wall of a house. The place is close to a room in
which prostitutes worked. Surely Professor De Simone is right to point
out that there is no connection between this representation and the
exercise of such women.11 There is no relation between the wall
painting and the “Brothel House;” moreover, prostitutes could not
afford such a fresco. The painting represented not the imaginations of
sexually skilled women; it depicted the fascination of the average
Pompeian with serpents.
In Region I, insula 8, one may see another painting of a snake on
an external wall. The mural is badly destroyed, but the original size of
the painted serpent is evident. It is at least 5 meters long (over 15
feet).12 The undulating body of the depicted serpent most likely
symbolized, inter alia, life (Pos. 20) as well as riches and wealth (Pos.
29).
Jewelry. Working in the Medagliere e Collezioni del Museo in the
Naples Archaeological Museum, I learned that virtually all the
attractive jewelry found in Pompeii and Herculaneum is gold with
serpent images.13 Again, my report must be selective (see also Chap.
3, esp. “Archaeological Evidence of the Influence of Greco-Roman
Ophidian Iconography in Ancient Palestine: The Jewelry of Pompeii
and Jerusalem”).
Figure 94. Gold Serpent Ring. No. 25040. Pompeii. JHC

No less than ten gold rings were examined in the Medagliere.

Three of them are shaped so that at the ends of the open ring two
serpents face each other, perhaps signifying the caduceus (11159,
25039, 25040). The most intricate and heaviest ring is No. 25040; it is
2.7 centimeters wide and 2.7 centimeters high. Tongues protrude from
the serpents’ mouths. Four holes indicate the eyes; no jewels remain
in the holes and perhaps none were ever placed in them.
One gold ring is heavily worn (No. 113744). Probably this ring had
been worn by other women, perhaps a mother and conceivably a
grandmother. The ring is heavy and well made; it is 2.4 centimeters
high. The serpent has four curves.
One gold ring (No. 80) features a serpent; it also has four curves. It
is 0.8 centimeters high and 2 centimeters wide. When the ring lies on a
table, it looks like a coiled, upraised cobra. Ring No. 25043 has the
appearance of an Ouroboros.
The gold bracelets and armlets that are fashioned as serpents are
too numerous to discuss. Examining the serpents’ heads of some of
these, I had the impression that jewels once had been in the holes that
graphically represent the eyes of serpents. This assumption was
proved by an examination of a gold bracelet (No. 126365). It is 8.4
centimeters high and 7.9 centimeters wide. The bracelet is very heavy
and crafted from fine gold. It was intricately and artistically made. The
serpent is realistic—its scales are represented by numerous
indentations on the body.
This bracelet received minute attention from a skilled craftsman.
The serpent’s head obtained special focus. It is triangular; hence, a
poisonous snake like an asp was imagined by the artisan. The head is
2.4 centimeters long and 1 centimeter high. The details of the head
include the smooth area of a serpent’s head and the customary
prominent eyes. The circular depressions impressively indicate eyes in
which jewels were set. As just intimated, one eye still retains a jewel; it
is 0.3 centimeters in diameter and may be an emerald.
The serpent’s mouth is open. Under the head, indentations in the
gold denote scales. There are three curls. Studying the serpent
bracelet, I considered the symbolic meanings intended by the creator,
those added by the wearer, and those imagined by any who beheld it.
The Pompeians would have seen symbolically represented at least the
following: beauty, power, strength, and especially life.

Conclusion

In the first century CE, Pompeii was not a cult of serpents, but the
Pompeians encouraged many cults that deified and worshipped the
serpent—the evidence of Egyptian culture, with its many serpent gods
and goddesses, is palpable.
The veneration of the serpent existed in this part of the world for
centuries. A painted krater can be seen in the Museo Archeologico di
Pithecusae; it features a serpent on a shield, and dates from the fifth
century BCE. But the profusion of serpent images at Pompeii is
uncommon. This city was wonderfully situated, and all segments of the
populace were united by one image: the serpent.14 This animal
signified many aspirations and hope, notably, healing, long life,
renewed life, and continued life (see, respectively, Positive Symbols
23, 20, 27). Many in Pompeii would have agreed that the serpent was
a very positive symbol. An inscription celebrated love with the symbol
of a bee, amantes ut apes vitam mellitam exigent (“lovers like bees
make life [sweet as] honey”). I found no inscription that mentions a
serpent. Yet the bee was celebrated at Luxor, not Pompeii. In the
Roman city, the serpent was the dominant symbol.
 Imagining the symbolic world of the Pompeians, I may more fully
comprehend that a symbol is a synthetic reality. A symbol is obviously
more than a word or a picture. It has many meanings, as we saw
during our study of serpent symbolism in antiquity. Symbols embody
magical meanings (Pos. 16 and 17). Perhaps words are the best
medium for appealing to our intelligence. If so, symbols, pictures, and
images are human creations designed to evoke feelings, past
experiences, and future hopes. Perhaps at Pompeii the images of
serpents helped the Pompeians to imagine not only new life (Pos. 20,
26, 27) but also the continuation of the family and the household. As
the many notes in Mozart’s Don Giovanni constitute a symphony of
sound, so the many images at Pompeii create a world of symbology in
which the serpent symbolizes all human dreams and aspirations.
Appendix IV: Notes on Serpent
Symbolism in the Early Christian
Centuries (Ophites, Justin, Irenaeus,
Augustine, and the Rotas-Sator Square)
In the preceding pages, I frequently drew attention to the interest in the
serpent that was shaped by an exegesis of John 3:14–15. Now, I shall
organize some thoughts on the Ophites, add a select few comments
by the so-called Fathers of the Church, and introduce a challenging, if
speculative, meaning of the Rotas-Sator Square.

Ophites (Naasanes, Peritae)

The Ophites, a “sect” of Christians, appeared in the second century CE.

They apparently vanished sometime in the fourth century, with the
clarification of “orthodoxy” supported by the power of the “Holy Roman
Empire.”
Ophites. In the treatise Against All Heresies, dating perhaps from
the third or fourth century CE, an unknown writer castigated Christians
who were referred to as “Ophites.” According to this writer,
remembered as “Pseudo-Tertullian,” this group was so named
because of their interpretation of John 3:14–15 and the exaggerated
and literal interpretation of Christ as the serpent. Pseudo-Tertullian
claims that the Ophites “prefer” the serpent “even to Christ himself; for
it was he, they say, who gave us the origin of the knowledge of good
and of evil.”1 The writer continues to summarize the mythology of the
Ophites, and contends that the Ophites believe that “Christ himself …
in his gospel imitates Moses’ serpent’s sacred power, in saying: ‘And
as Moses raised the serpent in the wilderness, so it is necessary for
the Son of man to be raised up.’ “2 It is singularly significant for our
research to observe that John 3:14 is quoted. We should review
critically, and with requisite suspicion, any polemical representation of
another’s views.
In his encyclopedic refutation of the so-called heretics, Epiphanius
(c. 315–403) discusses the Ophite sect. He reports:

[T]hey are called Ophites because of the serpent which they magnify. … and in their deception
they glorify the serpent, as I said, as a new divinity. … But to those who recognize the truth,
this doctrine is ridiculous, and so are its adherents who exalt the serpent as God. … these so-
called Ophites too ascribe all knowledge to this serpent, and say that it was the beginning of
knowledge for men.3

Epiphanius is not attempting to represent or be sympathetic to this

sect; he unabashedly castigates it as “stupidities” (1.1), “foolishness”
(5.1), and “silly opinion” (5.2). Yet he provides valuable information on
this sect with its extreme exegesis of Numbers 21 and John 3, which
they cite directly, per Epiphanius (7.18.1). According to Epiphanius,
they hold a myth that the supreme god: “stared down at the dung of
matter, and sired a power that looked like a snake, which they also call
his son” (4.4). The Ophites apparently defended their mythology by
claiming that “the entrails” of all humans are “shaped like a serpent”
(5.1). Building their ideology on an exegesis of Genesis 3, they
magnify the serpent because “he has been the cause of knowledge for
the many” (5.2). They allegedly celebrate the Eucharist by allowing a
snake, which they subsequently kiss, to encircle the bread placed on
the table: “But they worship an animal like this, and call what has been
consecrated by its coiling around it the eucharistic element. And they
offer a hymn to the Father on high—again, as they say, through the
snake—and so conclude their mysteries” (5.7).
In refuting the Ophites, Epiphanius reveals that he metaphorically
interprets John 3:14 to mean that Christ is like the serpent, after the
typos of Numbers 21. He rightly claims: “[The] thing [that is the
serpent] Moses held up in those times effected healing by the sight of
it—not because of the nature of the snake but by the consent of God,
who used the snake to make a sort of antidote for those who were
bitten then” (7.1). He denigrates the Ophites because they interpret the
text of John 3:14 “literally” (7.6). His interpretation demands the
recognition: “Jesus Christ our Lord … is no serpent” (8.1), and his
portrayal of the serpent’s symbolism is purely negative: “There is
nothing wise about a snake” (8.1). Yet he perceives the metaphorical
meaning of John 3:14: “And as healing came to the bitten by the lifting
up of the serpent, so, because of the crucifixion of Christ, deliverance
has come to our souls from the bites of sin that were left in us” (7.5).
He notes that Jesus, according to Matthew, said that his followers
must be “wise as serpents,” and he struggles to interpret this saying.
He attempts to find something wise about the serpent, but only reveals
his ignorance of it. For example, he says that the serpent is wise
because it “does not bring its poison” when it leaves its den for a drink
of water (8.5).
 Naassenes. The noun “Naassene” derives from the Hebrew
ndhds, “snake” or “serpent.” Hippolytus reported that this “sect”
worshiped the snake. Note his words: “They worship nothing other
than the Naas, whence they are called Naassenes. Naas is the snake,
wherefore all the naoi [temples] under the heavens are so called after
the Naas” (Elenchos 5.9, 12 [italics mine]). Hippolytus does not explain
the relation between the Ophites, discussed by Pseudo-Tertullian and
Epiphanius, and the Naassenes. He does mention another word
(Peratae) for a sect similar to or perhaps identical with the Naassenes.
Peratae. In his Refutation of All Heresies (early third cent.),
Hippolytus reported that the Peratae was an early Christian sect that
understood John 3:14 in light of Numbers 21. This verse denoted the
“perfect serpent” that delivered those who had been bitten. The
Peratae held that the image of a serpent is in heaven and is constantly
conspicuous in light. The beautiful image of the serpent becomes “an
originating principle” of all life (Book 5, chap. 11).
Hippolytus continues to describe the doctrine of the Peratae, who
clearly have focused their thoughts on an exegesis of John 3:14.
Hippolytus claimed that “according to them, the universe is Father, Son
(and) Matter. … Intermediate, then, between the Matter and the Father
sits the Son, the Word, the Serpent, always being in motion towards
the unmoved Father, and (towards) Matter itself in motion.”4 In his
Elenchos (5.17, 8), Hippolytus stated that the Peratae held that

The cosmos consists of Father, Son, and Matter. Each of these three principles contains
infinitely many forces. Midway between the Father and Matter, the Son, the Logos, has his
place, the Serpent that moves eternally toward the unmoved Father and moved Matter … no
one can be saved and rise up again without the Son, who is the Serpent. For it was he who
brought the paternal models down from above, and it is he who carries back up again those
who have been awakened from sleep and have reassumed the features of the Father.5

The Peratae, clearly, were developing their doctrines out of an

exegesis of John 3:14–15.
The Peratae were defined by their interpretation of the Fourth
Gospel. They were also imagining the cosmos under the influence of
Aristotle, who conceived of God as “the Unmoved Mover.” Most
important for our work is the recognition that the Peratae developed
their theology by interpreting Jesus as the serpent, and their base text
is John 3:14–15.
We must emphasize the basis for the Peratae’s concept of the Son
as the Serpent: it is an exegesis of John 3:14 in light of Numbers 21.
Equally impressive as the preceding quotation is the following
summary by Hippolytus of the Peratae’s Christology: “No one, then, he
says, can be saved or return [into heaven] without the Son, and the
Son is the Serpent.” 6 Anatomically, the brain, because it is unmov-
able, symbolizes the Father, and the cerebellum, because of its motion
and form of a serpent, represents the Son.7
Hippolytus’ reference to the Peratae is so informative of serpent
symbolism, especially in light of an exegesis of John 3:14–15, that it
should be more fully quoted:

No one, then, he says, can be saved or return [into heaven] without the Son, and the Son is
the serpent. For as he brought down from above the paternal marks, so again he carries up
from thence those marks roused from a dormant condition and rendered paternal
characteristics, substantial ones from the unsubstantial Being, transferring them hither from
thence. This, he says, is what is spoken: “I am the door.” And he transfers [those marks], he
says, to those who close the eyelid, as the naphtha drawing the fire in every direction towards
itself; nay rather, as the magnet [attracting] the iron and not anything else, or just as the
backbone of the sea falcon, the gold and nothing else, or as the chaff is led by the amber. In
this manner, he says, is the portrayed, perfect, and con-substantial genus drawn again from
the world by the serpent; nor does he [attract] anything else, as it has been sent down by him.
For a proof of this, they adduce the anatomy of the brain, assimilating, from the fact of its
immobility, the brain itself to the Father, and the cerebellum to the Son, because of its being
moved and being of the form of [the head of] a serpent. And they allege that this [cerebellum],
by an ineffable and inscrutable process, attracts through the pineal gland the spiritual and life-
giving substance emanating from the vaulted chamber [in which the brain is embedded]. And
on receiving this, the cerebellum in an ineffable manner imparts the ideas, just as the Son
does, to matter; or, in other words, the seeds and the genera of the things produced according
to the flesh flow along into the spinal marrow. Employing this exemplar, [the heretics] seem to
adroitly introduce their secret mysteries, which are delivered in silence. Now it would be
impious for us to declare these; yet it is easy to form an idea of them, by reason of the many
statements that have been made.8

Centuries later in his homilies on the Fourth Gospel, John

Chrysostom (c. 347407) compared Jesus to the serpent. Here are the
four most important aspects of his homiletical interpretations for our
study of serpent symbolism. First, the Fourth Evangelist has chosen to
compare Jesus with the serpent described in Numbers 21 to
emphasize that “the old order was akin to the new.”9
Second, and far more important, Chrysostom argued: “[I]f the Jews
escaped death by looking upon the brazen image of a serpent, with
much greater reason would those who believe in the Crucified One
enjoy an even greater benefit.”10
Third, the clearest example of Chrysostom’s comparison of Jesus
and the serpent, following the lead of the Fourth Evangelist, follows:
“[I]n the former, the uplifted serpent healed the bites of serpents; in the
latter, the crucified Jesus healed the wounds inflicted by the spiritual
dragon.”11
Fourth, the comparison between the serpent and Jesus is without
any doubt: “In the former, there was the uplifted brass fashioned in the
likeness of a serpent; in the latter, the Lord’s body formed by the
Spirit.”12 Chrysostom can discuss how and in what ways the
comparison between Jesus and the serpent is apt because of the rich
positive symbolism given to the serpent in his time and culture.

Jesus and “the Serpent,” According to Justin, Irenaeus, and

Augustine

While modern commentators miss the symbolic meaning of the Fourth

Evangelist, ancient exegetes frequently perceive the meaning intended
by the Evangelist. Only three representative examples will suffice to
clarify this point. They are Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and St. Augustine.
Justin Martyr (c. 100-c. 165 CE), a Samaritan renowned for his
apologies, was scourged and then beheaded because he refused to
sacrifice to the emperor in Rome. After converting to Christianity,
Justin taught in Ephesus, where he debated with a Jew named Trypho
around the year 135. He then moved to Rome and published
sometime after 155 his work titled Dialogue with Trypho. It is an anti-
Jewish document; in it he argues that the Covenant God of the Old
Testament is superseded, that the God of the Old Testament is the
Logos, and that Gentiles replace Israel in the economy of salvation. In
this work, Justin claims that Joshua and the Israelites were able to
defeat the Amalekites because Moses stretched out his hands, and—
most important for our understanding of John 3:14—Justin asserts that
Moses had imitated the sign of the cross (Dial. 89). After this
comment, Justin proceeds to discuss “the mystery of the cross.” It is at
this point that he reveals his exegesis of John 3:14 and, of course,
Numbers 21 in light of it. The cross was “the type and sign” that God
devised for “the salvation of those who believe that death was
declared to come thereafter on the serpent through Him that would be
crucified.”13
Justin seems to perceive that Jesus, according to the Fourth
Evangelist, is symbolically the upraised serpent, but he cannot make
this exegetical move because of his interpretation of Genesis 3. He
affirms that the serpent “was cursed by God from the beginning” (Dial.
91). Justin may be contemplating that Jesus on the cross became sin
for the sinner; that is, he became the evil serpent so he could defeat
him. That is, he may be using a double entendre, thinking that Jesus
as the life-giving serpent was able to conquer the Devil, the serpent
(see Rev 20:2).
It is far from clear what Justin means in this passage. Is it a
“clumsy exposition of St. John, iii.14,” as Coxe claimed?14 I am
persuaded that this judgment is possible only when one assumes that
John 3:14 does not, and cannot, mean that Jesus is portrayed as
Moses’ serpent that has been raised up so that all who look up to it, or
believe in it, will live.
Irenaeus (c. 130-c. 200), the Bishop of Lyons in southern France, is
important in establishing the time when the Church, at least in the
areas he represents, accepted only four gospels: Matthew, Mark,
Luke, and John. In his major publication, Adversus omnes Haereses,
which is a virulent attack against Gnosticism, he exhibits briefly his
exegesis of John 3:14. He contends that humans “can be saved in no
other way from the old wound of the serpent than by believing in Him
who, in the likeness of sinful flesh, is lifted up from the earth upon the
tree of martyrdom, and draws all things to Himself, and vivifies the
dead.”15 Irenaeus is emphasizing the importance of Numbers 21 for
understanding John 3:14. The serpent raised up is the source of hope
and life. Thus, according to Irenaeus, the Law (the Torah) was the
pedagogue and the means for exhorting all to believe. Taken to its
logical consequences, which Irenaeus almost succeeds in doing, it
seems obvious that Moses’ serpent symbolizes Jesus. Thus, the old
serpent’s wound is healed by the upraised serpent, who is none other
than Jesus. Again, Irenaeus, as Justin before him, seems to equate
the serpent only with evil, since he refers to Jesus who “in the likeness
of sinful flesh” was raised up above the earth. The distance from the
time of the Fourth Evangelist becomes impressive. Yet, in so doing,
Irenaeus brings out one of the characteristics of Asclepius, the serpent
god—that is, Jesus and Asclepius raise the dead to life or vivify the
dead.
Augustine (354–430), the Bishop of Hippo in North Africa, was a
gifted rhetorician. His understanding of Christian theology was so
profound that he became the dominant force in Christian thought until
the thirteenth century when Aquinas (c. 1225–1274) became the
recognized master of Christian philosophy and theology. Skilled in
rhetoric, grammar, and syntax, Augustine might have grasped the
meaning of John 3:14. In addition to the numerous references to
Augustine’s exegesis of Numbers 21 and John 3 noted in Chapter 7,
we may now focus on his main perception of serpent symbolism.
Although Augustine’s exegesis is frequently marred by
inappropriate allegorizing, he rightly knew that Numbers 21, according
to Jesus’ words in the Fourth Gospel, was “a mysterious
foreshadowing of what was to come.”16 Augustine does not simply
state that the comparison is between the lifting up of the serpent and
the lifting up of the Son of Man. He knows that the Evangelist, through
words attributed to Jesus, is comparing Jesus with the serpent.
Augustine contends that “snakes” represent human sins that lead to
death. He also perceives that the serpent “up on the post” symbolizes
Jesus. Note Augustine’s exegesis of John 3:14: “What is meant by the
snakes? They are the sins of men doomed to die. And the serpent
lifted up on the post? The death of the master on the cross” (p. 75).
As the followers of Moses looked up to the serpent, so the
followers of Jesus look up to the crucified one. The Hebrews “have to
look at the snake in order to render the snake harmless.” So also “we
must look up at Christ crucified, in order that we may be healed from
sin. That is what the Master meant” in 3:14–16 (p. 75). Augustine
continues: “As none of those who looked up to the serpent died of the
bites, so none who look with faith on the death of Christ shall fail to be
healed of the poison of sin” (p. 76). In light of the pejorative meaning of
snake, which he often equates with Satan,17 Augustine refrains from
stating that the serpent is a typos of (typology for) Jesus Christ. He
perceives that the serpent adumbrates Christ’s death on the cross, but
he gives no impression that he knew the serpent could and did
symbolize “life” and “resurrection.”
Why has Augustine missed a major theological point? It may
perhaps be because of the threatening power of the Asclepian cult and
the “heretical” views of such groups as the Ophites, but the context
gives me the impression that Augustine is focused not on life and
resurrection. He was focused on the human’s condemnation and sin.

The Rotas-Sator Square

A Latin cryptic word square of twenty-five letters has frustrated

scholars’ attempts to comprehend it. This cryptograph has been
discovered in many parts of the Roman Empire, from the West in
Britain to the East in Dura-Europos. It was also discovered in Pompeii;
hence, it clearly antedates 79 CE when that Roman city was
destroyed.18 Here is the Latin cryptograph (note how TENET forms a
cross pattern):

The Rotas-Sator Square should not be called a “rebus”19 since that

term refers to a series of words represented by pictures or symbols. A
much better description would be to call it a cryptogram or better a
cryptograph; that is, something composed in a code or in a mystical
pattern.

The Square Is Not Christian

The square also hides a cruciform made from the word TENET(the
palindrome). This form is certainly no evidence that the Latin square is
Christian.20 The cruciform should not be deemed Christian prima facie.
It is ancient; for example, it can be seen in Mesopotamian art that
antedates the first century CE by millennia. It is evident in the following
works of art:

a bowl from Ur (second half of the fifth millennium BCE)

a bowl from Susa (beginning of the fourth millennium BCE)
stamps and seals (fourth and third millennium BCE)
proto-dynastic seals (end of fourth millennium BCE)
cylinder seals (second millennium BCE)21

Jews also used a form of the cross to signify various ideas; none of
them is to be confused with the meaning Christians give to the “cross.”
Many of these Jewish symbols that look like a cross date from near or
in the first century CE, but we should not be confused into thinking
about the development or even evolution of a cross symbol from
Judaism to Christianity.22
The attempts to read the Latin cryptogram as a Christian inscription
have proved unsuccessful. Christian scholars who imagined it as
designating “Pater Noster” have not been persuasive.23
Numerous scholars, notably Moeller, Last, Fishwick, and Gunn,24
were convinced that the Latin language makes it very difficult to
arrange letters so that a five-lettered cryptograph that can be read both
left to right and right to left is created. They were wrong. W. Baines
draws attention to eighty-eight possible squares that can be created
out of Latin, which he shows is “ideal for producing word-squares.”25
I am persuaded that the Rotas-Sator Square cannot be a Christian
composition because of the numerous presuppositions demanded by
such a hypothesis. Yet, unfortunately, the Rotas-Sator Square is cited
as a Christian creation in many handbooks and introductions to the
origins of Christianity.
Here are my reasons why the square is probably not Christian:
First, the cryptograph has been found in Pompeii. That means
Christians must be living there before 79 CE, and probably even before
62, which is the most likely date for the graffiti in Pompeii.26
Second, while this assumption is not impossible, there are no
supporting proofs for it,27 and it also demands that Christians chose
the cross to symbolize their religion by the early sixties, since TENET
forms a cross. Yet we have no evidence that the cross was a Christian
symbol in the first century; it most likely came into use after the first
century, but before Constantine’s vision in the fourth century (he saw a
cross in the sky and believed that with “this sign” you will conquer),
and is apparently to be discerned in the catacombs of Lucina and
Priscilla. The symbol of the cross is perhaps mentioned in the second-
century Epistle of Barnabas (9:8), but all of these examples are too
late to prove Christian use of the cross before 79.28
Third, the cryptogram is not fully understood by “Pater Noster”
since “A” and “O” are left out of the meaning. To suggest that they
represent Alpha and Omega smacks of special pleading.
Fourth, the Alpha and Omega symbolism associated with
Christianity is clear only in the Revelation of John,29 which is usually
dated to the nineties. That date is thirty years too late to indicate
Christian composition for the Rotas-Sator Square.

Attempts to Explain the Square

Why has the meaning of the Latin mystified scholars? Far too often,
scholars come to a symbol or mystical sign with preconceptions; as O.
Keel pointedly proved in Das Recht der Bilder gesehen zu werden, all
symbols have the right to be seen before they are interpreted.
Past attempts to discern the meaning of this Latin cryptograph,
which have been voluminous, allow the following possibilities:
 Sator. There is not only a square to the image, but a meaning that
seems to run around it. Sator is written at the bottom left to right, then
from the same starting point from bottom left to the top, and once
again from top right in both directions, left and downward. The
appropriate word with which to begin seems to be Sator. This crucial
word means “sower,” “progenitor,” and especially “creator.” What is the
sequence for the words?
To discern the meaning of this Latin cryptic word square we should
recognize that the square is magical or mystical and, thus, the author
is not referring literally to a sower who works a field. The author is
probably referring to “the Creator.” Such a meaning would have been
readily significant to the learned and average person in the Roman
Empire. And we should assume that many, if not most, of them knew
the meaning of the square.
Arepo, tenet, opera, and rotas. The sequence of words seems to
provide a sentence as follows: SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS. What
would that mean? The Latin Sator … tenet opera rotas, prima facie,
would mean “The Creator … holds with effort the wheels.” The Latin
word tenet means “to hold” or “to maintain” and it is the palindrome of
the square; that is, it provides the same meaning when read right to
left or left to right (as well as from top to bottom and bottom to top).30
Arepo. The suggested sentence, “The Creator … holds with effort
the wheels,” raises two questions and a problem. Why “with effort”?
And also why the plural “wheels”? A suggestion for each of these
problems must await the problematic word: arepo. As many have
pointed out, this is a word that is unknown. Most lexicographers either
speculate that it is the name of some unknown person or that it is
merely a meaningless series of Latin letters demanded by the opposite
of its mirror image in the cryptograph, opera. 31
The hallmark of research is not to give up with easy solutions or be
content with unattractive answers. Hence, what does arepo denote? It
looks like a verb, which means that the scholarly attempts to assume it
is the name of the “sower” is simply sufficient evidence that such a
hypothesis has collapsed from the weight of its own assumptions.
 The Latin arepo could be the first-person indicative of a verb. The
most likely suggestion is that it is from arrepo, which is also adrepo,32
or arepo and because of phonetics one “r” has elided; that is, to say
“arrepo” eventually evolves into the easier-to-pronounce “arepo.” Also,
the six-letter arrepo would not fit into the five-lettered square, so it
would be necessary to choose the truncated arepo. Thus, “to creep
toward” is a possibility worth pursuing. A cognate verb is r*p* (-ere,
r*psi, r*ptum), which means “to creep” and “to crawl.” Taking arepo as
a verb, we thus derive the meaning: “The creator, I creep toward.” The
problem with this explanation is that “creator” is nominative and an
accusative would be needed to clarify the object to which “I creep
toward.” Perhaps the sentence means, “The creator—[to whom] I
creep—holds the wheels with effort.” That is not attractive grammar,
but it is possible and fits nicely with the needs of a magical square. We
should not attempt to understand the Rotas-Sator Square primarily by
means of refined grammar; not only does that move the common or
“vulgar” cryptogram out of its sociological context, but it imposes false
criteria for discerning the intent of the author.
Sator and arepo. Who is this “creator”? Could it be Asclepius?
The key to unlocking this long too mysterious Latin word square is
the word immediately following “Sator”—that is, “Creator.” The Latin
word arepo, along with its cognate repo, provides us with “reptile” in
English. The “Creator” to whom the devotee crawls, like a snake, may
be Asclepius. This god is preeminently represented in the first century
CE by the symbol of the serpent. Thus, “I creep toward” is to take on
the symbolic meaning of the Creator, perhaps Asclepius.
It is good to select some ancient witnesses to the Asclepian cult to
stress, again, the symbolic identity between serpents and Asclepius:
“[S]erpents are just as much sacred to Trophonius as to Asclepius.”33
These are the words of Pausanias who wrote in Rome near the end of
the second century CE. Earlier in the first century BCE, Ovid portrayed
Asclepius saying: “Only look upon this serpent (serpentem) which
twines about my staff.”34 Between Pausanias and Ovid, and a
contemporary of the Fourth Evangelist, lived a man whose dedication
to study and exploration led him to become “the martyr of nature” since
his curiosity led him to Pompeii during the volcanic eruption of 79 CE.
This scholar, Pliny the Elder, reported: “[T]he Asclepian snake [Anguis
Aesculapius] … is commonly reared even in private houses
[vulgoquepascitur et in domibus].” 35
 Asclepius was revered from the West to the East of the Roman
Empire in the first century CE, thus explaining the widespread
distribution of the Latin magical cryptograph. Xenophon (c. 430-c. 354
BCE) celebrated Asclepius and reported “he has everlasting fame
among men.”36
Significant for understanding the square, Asclepius is also called
“savior.” Note these random examples:

Shall I go on to tell you how Helius took thought for the health and safety of all by begetting
Asclepius to be the Savior of the whole world.37 [Julianus, 332–63 CE]
… Asclepius, the Savior and the adversary of diseases.38 [Aelianus, c. 200 CE]
… Savior … they called Asclepius that.39 [Suidas, c. 950 CE]

Opera. Why “with effort”? Asclepius, as a demigod, is an excellent

fit for the inscription. As Edelstein states, Asclepius “had endured so
many hardships.”40 In fact, Porphyrius (232–304 CE), in his Epistle to
Marcellus, states that Asclepius completed: “[T]he blessed road to the
gods through toil and strength. For … the upward paths to god” are
attained “by those who have learned nobly to endure the hardest
circumstances.”41
Rotas. Why does the inscription have the plural rotas, “wheels”?
Would not the singular rota, “wheel,” more adequately denote the
wheel of the cosmos? Not necessarily, since the depictions of the
zodiac often have it within two circles, or wheels.
What is the meaning of “The Creator—[to whom] I creep—holds
the wheels with effort?” Aristides (129–189 CE) salutes Asclepius as
the god who: “[H]as every power.” Indeed, he is “the one who guides
and rules the universe, the savior of the whole and the guardian of the
immortals, or if you wish to put it in the words of a tragic poet, ‘the
steerer of government.’ “42 About the same time as the completion of
the Fourth Gospel, Philo of Byblos mentioned the snake-like god who
is named Ophioneus. Philo then mentions the Egyptians who portray
the cosmos according to the same notion. Philo reports: “They draw an
encompassing sphere, misty and fiery, and a hawk-shaped snake
dividing the middle. … the circle is the cosmos, and they signify that
the snake in the middle holding it together is Good Demon.”43
While this latter information pertains to a god other than Asclepius,
it is appropriate here as it helps us comprehend the relation between
the snake and the circle of the cosmos, which is apparent also in the
Asclepian cult. Asclepius, who is associated with Dionysus since both
were lauded as the god of the sun, is not far from mind when
Macrobius explains that Dionysus “moves in a circle round the infinite
broad Olympus.”44 That means the god whirls around or rotates
around the heavens.
To understand rotas as the second-person singular, indicative
mood, of roto, “to cause to turn around like a wheel” or “revolve” would
not improve the meaning of the group of words. We would have then
only understood the words to mean, “The Creator I creep toward holds
with effort, you rotate.” The second person seems out of place and the
sentence would then lack a direct object.
We might conceivably take rotas as a symbolic reference to the
chariot wheels on which the Sun rides on its daily route around the
earth—using the cosmology of the ancients. But is there any clear link
between Asclepius and the sun? The answer is emphatically “yes.”
Note the following statement by Proclus who wrote shortly after the
completion of the Fourth Gospel: “Porphyry declares it reasonable that
even the art of healing comes from Athena, because also Asclepius is
lunar intellect, just as Apollo is solar intellect. … In fact, one should
place also Asclepius in the Sun.”45 Later, in the fourth century CE,
Macrobius mentioned: “[T]he serpent is placed at the foot of the
statues of Asclepius and Health, because these gods are traced back
to the nature of the sun and moon. … the serpent is shown to be one
of the special attributes of the sun [ad solis naturam lunaeque
referuntur], because it derives its name from derkein, meaning ‘to see.’
“46 In the fifth century CE, Proclus advised: “[O]ne should place also
Asclepius in the sun letting him proceed from there to the world of
becoming.”47 The previous quotations prove that Leisegang was
correct when he reported: “ [T]he Roman Janus and likewise Liber and
Dionysus, Apollo, Asclepius, and Zeus are actually sun gods and are
all connected with one another.”48

Is Not Sator in the Nominative?

We turn now to a problem that seems to have hindered decipherment:

the assumed nominative noun Sator. In a well-crafted sentence, we
should expect precise grammar, and some experts seem to prefer the
accusative satorem. But the square is not a narrative statement.
Another word square found at Pompeii has the following:
The meaning is quite clear: “love of Rome.” But notice that the square
does not require the imposition of good grammar. Roma should have
been in the genitive Romae.
Grammar is not a primary key for unlocking a cryptogram like the
Rotas-Sator Square. On the one hand, such cryptograms are not to be
confused with narrative, but, on the other, they are not the
meaningless gibberish typical of the magical papyri.49
Sator, a third-declension noun, is most likely a vocative form. It
probably means “O Creator.”
Is Sator appropriate for Asclepius? It is used of Jupiter. Livy,
Plautus, and Virgil would have agreed: sator hominum atque deorum
(“Creator of men as well as of gods”). Asclepius is sometimes
identified with Jupiter or Zeus, who is frequently known as sator. Note,
for example, the following comment by Aristides: “Asclepius … has
every power … the people here [i.e., at Pergamum] have built a temple
[to honor] Zeus Asclepius.”50 Perhaps the one invoked is none other
than Zeus, who is also depicted with serpents (as is clear in the
previous chapters). The collapsing of any distinction between Zeus
and Asclepius, and the depiction of Zeus plowing, is not far from the
image of Sator as the “sower.” Sator is appropriate equally for Zeus
and Asclepius since it also means “Creator.”
The clear mythological dimension of the Rotas-Sator Square is
clarified by Philo of Byblos. His Phoenician History was composed in
the late first or early second century CE, and that is close to the time for
the completion of the Fourth Gospel (c. 95 CE). Philo reported: “Dagon,
since he discovered grain and plough, was called Zeus Ploughman.”51
One of the Titanids who mated with Sydyk is called the “ ‘just one,’ and
bore Asclepius.”52
The noun sator also means progenitor or father. That is important
because we do have references to Asclepius as “father.” Note, for
example, the words attributed to Asclepius by Herondas in the third
century BCE:“Father Paieon.” Paieon is a nickname for Asclepius.53
In order to explain the Rotas-Sator Square, I prefer to stay with
Asclepius. The Latin cryptic word square has been found in many
parts of the Roman Empire. The square became popular exactly when
Asclepius became the supreme god in many cities. An inscription from
the third century BCE refers to Ascelpius as “the best of all the gods.”54
Asclepius is the one to beseech, “if any of the gods is to be invoked.”55
The author of a second-century CE papyrus from Oxyrhynchus salutes
Asclepius as the “greatest of gods.”56 He is the god of healing, of
resurrection, and of light.
Soldiers, particularly those wounded or fearing battle, would have
been especially attracted to a mystical cryptogram honoring Asclepius.
Note Philostratus’ comment from the late second or early third century
CE that Asclepius easily heals wounds from war, the chase, and all
such chance occurrences.57
The Rotas-Sator Square thus does not seem to be Mithraic,58 but
devotees of Mithra most likely would have been attracted to it, since
they also revered Asclepius. The cryptograph is also unlikely to be
Orphic,59 but again worshippers of Orpheus also invoked Asclepius. It
is not Jewish.60 I am also convinced that the weakest solution is to
assume (or conclude) that the cryptograph is Christian.
My suggestion that the Latin cryptograph is a mystical invocation or
celebration of the god of healing and life, Asclepius, meets the
demands made on us by the archaeological settings in which it has
been found. Any solution to the mystical cryptograph must obviously
transcend all barriers and even cultures since the Latin square has
been found inscribed on leather probably found in Saxony, in the
Palaestra at Pompeii, on the wall of the Temple of Azzanathkona at
Dura-Europos, and in the Palace of the Governor at Aquincum (in
Budapest). As Julianus (332–363) commented, Asclepius “is present
everywhere on land and sea.”61
The cryptograph has been found in the parish church of Pieve
Terzagni near Cremona, but it dates from a later period (the eleventh
century).62 The Christian reuse of the cryptograph should not influence
our search for an understanding of its original meaning, and its
importance in the first century CE.
My hypothesis also nicely fits the phenomena that accompanied
the cult of Asclepius. In the first century CE, no other god was so well
and widely worshipped in shrines and in the home as Asclepius.
Apparently not only Romans but those living throughout the empire
needed Asclepius for adoration, and prayed to him, as in the Hymn to
Asclepius in the Orphic hymns: “Asklepios, Lord Paian, healer of all …
come, O Blessed One, as Savior and bring life to a good end.”63
Any interpretation of the cryptograph should explain the social
needs of those who revered it. That would be the case since Asclepius
was admired for good health and healing. That need transcends the
normal influences of a cult.
An indication that my solution for the decipherment of the mystical
cryptograph helps solve the mysterious Latin is the word that is
composed of all the letters: paterno. This Latin form means “paternal”
or “ancestor.” It is found in Juvenal’s Satires. He mentions a maiden
“who lives on her paternal farm [rure paterno].” 64 The form also
appears about the same time as the composition of the Fourth Gospel
since Tacitus in his Histories uses it when he describes how Domitian
was led to his “ancestral hearth” (in paternos penatis deduxit). 65
Is the arrangement of the letters in the cryptograph a subtle
indication that Asclepius is meant to be invoked? He is called the
ancestral god. For example, the famous Galen (129–199 CE) declared
himself to be a worshipper of “the ancestral god Asclepius.”66

Conclusion

The criteria for discerning the meaning of the Rotas-Sator Square

have been met. Former attempts have failed to discern the meaning of
this cryptograph. Some leave out letters, notably A and O. Others
present a translation that would be meaningless in a cryptic square.
That is, a nonmetaphorical meaning does not meet the requirements
of a cryptograph; for example, the following prevalent suggestion is not
cryptic: “Arepo the sower holds the wheels with labor.” Many are
content to give up with arepo, suggesting only that it is some unknown
name. I have endeavored to show that it is not “simply the reverse of
OPERA and that its form is determined entirely by the problems inherent
in constructing a twenty-five letter square from the intersecting PATER
NOSTER’s with two A’s and two O’s.”67

As Baines demonstrated, Latin offers itself easily for cryptic

squares.68 The key does not lie “with some unknown man called
Arepo.”69 The key is provided by discerning that arepo denotes “to
crawl toward.” And this insight brings forward serpent imagery and
symbolism; and that—in the historical context—suggests Asclepius.
He is the god who comes to those needing healing in the form of a
serpent.70
 We have endeavored to establish that the cryptograph seems to
mean “The creator—[to whom] I creep—holds the wheels with effort.”
Using this indicative sentence, soldiers and others could turn it into a
prayer with invocatory power. They could say the word at the base of
the square, sator, then the word at the top, rotas, which is its mirror
image. Third, the two other mirror images would be chanted: opera
arepo. Finally, the central—indeed structural importance—of tenet, the
palindrome, would be an invocation. What would such a plea mean?
The first word, sator, would be a vocative that could be repeated:
“O Creator, O Creator.” Then Asclepius’ desired attribute would be
lauded in the second person: rotas, “you who cause (all) to rotate.”
The promise of the petitioner seems represented by opera arepo,
“With effort I crawl toward [you].” Finally, the mantra would conclude
with the request: tenet, tenet, tenet, tenet, which is written in the
cryptograph, as it were, north to south, east to west, south to north,
and west to east. That would mean: “Maintain [the rotations from the
north, the east, the south, and the west].” Thus, the square would
replicate the cosmology of four corners. The invocation is strikingly
similar to others often connected with serpent mythology; note, for
example, the following cited by Macrobius, admittedly rather late (c.
fourth cent.) but recognized as containing ideas that originated much
earlier:

Hear, thou who [turns forever] the radiant sphere

of distant motion [that runs round the celestial vortices].71

The Prayer of Jacob comes to mind when I think about the Rotas-
Sator Square as an invocation. Recall the following from this Jewish
magical prayer: “Creator of the angels … I invoke you. … Father of the
[wh]ole [co]s[mos] [and of] all creation. … He[a]r me. … God of gods;
amen, amen. … [S]ay [the p]r[a]y[e]r o[f] Jacob seven times to [the]
Nor[th] and E[a]st.”72
An alabaster bowl, dating from the beginnings of Christianity,
depicts a very large serpent in the center. This artwork illustrates the
universal god: “[The one] moving the whole cosmos in harmonious
circles.”73 Invocations are found frequently in many genres; they shape
apocalypses and appear on papyri. Perhaps one of the most important
invocations for our present study is found on the Paris magic papyrus,
which salutes and invokes the great serpent:
Hail, beginning and end of immutable nature! Hail, rotation of the elements full of untiring
service! Hail, labor of the sunbeams, light of the world! Hail glittering nocturnal sphere of the
changing moon! … O great, spherical, unfathomable edifice of the world! … I praise thee God
of gods … great art thou, lord, God, ruler of the universe.74

Words linked with our research on the serpent are in italics that I have
added to this quotation.
All of the imagery of the cryptograph fits neatly within the
mythology of the serpent in the first century CE. The serpent is
depicted with his tail in his mouth, forming a complete circle (the
Ouroboros). This pictorial image symbolizes the oneness of the
universe. In Orphic etymology, we find these words: “Herakles”
(Hercules) denotes the coiling, or encircling, serpent.75
In summation, in light of the perceptions obtained by studying
serpent symbolism in antiquity, I offer for reflection the following
suggestion.
The Rotas-Sator Square appears throughout the Roman Empire in
this form:

The cryptogram seems to be an invocation to Asclepius, the serpent

god (and conceivably thence to all gods considered to be symbolized
as a serpent). It may mean: “O Creator, O Creator: You who cause [all]
to rotate, with effort I crawl toward [you].” Then a mantra may appear,
as words are repeated around the square: “Maintain [the rotations from
the north, the east, the south, and the west].”
Glossary

This glossary focuses on terms for snake or serpent and related

symbolism.
Agathadaimon a good god, spirit, or genius (Figs. 36, 92).
Anat (or Anath) a fierce warrior goddess, worshipped by the Amorites
long before the Hebrews entered the “Land.”
anguine the Latin loanword means “serpent-like.”
anguine Christology reflections on Jesus Christ as a serpent.
anguipede serpent-footed; a figure with serpent legs or feet. The
Giants and Sirenes often appear with anguipedes.
apotheosis the elevation or exaltation of a person to the status of a
god.
apotropaism an object that averts evil (from Greek apotropaion), often
by being the antidote for it; used in magic and ritual.
Asclepius, Asclepios (Greek), Aesculapias (Latin) Greek god of
healing.
Asklepieion the name of a shrine to Asclepius.
basilisk a mythical serpent-like creature, often gallinaceous (Fig. 7).
Bes Egyptian god; a dwarf who symbolized music and dance.
bibil jars ceramic jars that tilt when placed on a table, perhaps named
after the sound when a liquid pours from them (bibil).
bifid tongue the split tongue of a snake.
caduceus staff with two serpents facing each other; associated with
Hermes (Mercury) (Fig. 5).
chryselephantine an object made of ivory and gold.
Coffin Texts inscriptions from the First Intermediate period of Egypt
(7th through most of the 11th Dynasties: ca. 2150–2055 BCE). These
spells and incantations were derived from the earlier Pyramid Texts
but are now found in the tombs of those other than the pharaohs, for
whom the Pyramid Texts were apparently reserved. Though often
found on coffins, these inscriptions appear on tomb walls and
objects associated with the burial. These texts, like the Pyramid
 Texts, were to aid the dead in their journey into the afterlife.
cyathus an elegant ladle for serving wine (often mixed with water).
cysta mystica a box or chest in which secret documents were
deposited; in some, serpents were hidden, as shown on coin.
Eherne Schlange German for “upraised serpent;” that is, a serpent on
a cross. Sometimes the figure is iconographically a T-shaped cross.
Usually the artist is influenced by Numbers 21 and John 3.
faience a ceramic substance that looks like glass, but is glazed;
faience was usually chosen to make small objects.
fibula the clasp that held a garment (the toga) together.
gallinaceous resembling a fowl.
gastrostege scales serpentine-like markings on the belly of figures.
hemipenes the two phalli of a serpent; neither is for urination.
Hygieia daughter of Asclepius, goddess of good health; often shown
with a serpent (see Fig. 60).
incubation act of sleeping by a devotee, often in a temple, to obtain
healing, usually through dreams, especially in the Asclepian cult.
Johannine community the community whose traditions and sources
gave rise to the Gospel of John and perhaps the Johannine letters.
kerygmata related to the term “kerygma,” the preaching of the
Christian gospel message; kerygmata describes either the various
communications of the gospel or the specific contents of the
preaching itself.
leontocephaline lion-headed figure, often in the cult of Mithra,
frequently with serpent-entwined human figures.
mikva Jewish bath for ritual purification.
ophidian the Greek loanword denotes something having the features
of a snake or serpent.
ophidian Christology reflections on Jesus Christ as a serpent.
ophiolatry the worship of snakes.
ophiology the branch of zoology that studies snakes.
ophiophilism a love of snakes.
Ouroboros a figure of a serpent in a circle, swallowing its own tail. It
 can signify time being complete or repetitious and the male (tail) and
female (mouth). It is important in Greek iconography and symbolism
and in China (esp. the Yangshao culture of 4500 BCE).
Pharaonic snake-game a pre-dynastic (4000–3200 BCE) game that
uses a board that is circular with a serpent encircled within it.
Pyramid Texts inscriptions from Old Kingdom Egypt found in the
pyramids of Saqqarah on the sarcophagi of the pharaohs of the 5th
and 6th Dynasties (c. 2498–2183 BCE). These texts, which are
largely spells and incantations, were to aid the pharaoh in the
afterlife, reanimating his body and helping him in his ascent into the
heavens. They were also to help protect his remains from corruption
or disturbance.
simpulum an elegant ladle for serving wine (often mixed with water).
uraeus the raised cobra on the headdresses of pharaohs (Figs. 24,
25).
Notes
1. Introduction

1. The only noteworthy variant in these two verses is the different

order of words at the end of verse 14. See the convenient layout of the
important manuscript witnesses to these two verses by R. J. Swanson,
New Testament Manuscripts: Variant Readings Arranged in Horizontal
Lines Against Codex Vaticanus; John (Pasadena, Calif., 1995) pp. 29–
30.
2. The Greek verb is . I decided to remove almost all the Greek
and Hebrew scripts as well as other exotic scripts so that the
discussion will be attractive to a large audience.
3. Epiphanius referred to “their kind of stupidity” in his Panarion,
Section III, 37: “they are called Ophites because of the serpent which
they magnify.” See F. Williams, trans., The Panarion of Epiphanius of
Salamis, 2 vols. (Leiden, 1987–1994) vol. 1, p. 241.
4. C. G. Jung, “Approaching the Unconscious,” in Man and His
Symbols, ed. C. G. Jung et al. (New York, 1968) pp. 1–94; the
quotation is on p. 59.
5. J. Sandys-Wunsch and L. Eldredge, “J. P. Gabler and the
Distinction Between Biblical and Dogmatic Theology: Translation,
Commentary, and Discussion of His Originality,” SJT 33 (1980) 138–
39.
6. My colleagues here at Princeton Theological Seminary who are
focusing their work on Systematic or Dogmatic Theology would wish to
add, I am convinced, that their own disciplines must also be freed from
the control of any dogmatic system or ecclesiastical sanction. They do
not need to receive the approval of a biblical scholar before they
complete and publish their own research.
7. W. Wrede, “The Task and Methods of ‘New Testament Theology,’
“ in The Nature of New Testament Theology, ed. and trans. R. Morgan
(London, 1973) p. 71.
8. A. Schlatter, “The Theology of the New Testament and
Dogmatics,” pp. 117–166 in The Nature of New Testament Theology,
p. 118.
 9. By anguine Christology I mean a Christology that in some ways
portrays Jesus as a serpent or as having the powers culturally
associated with a serpent at the time of the Fourth Evangelist and in
his milieu. Those who do not read this book carefully and only wish to
caricature and criticize it will err in assuming that I am thinking of
Jesus as a snake. Obviously, I am not exploring this issue for those
who are not willing to be challenged or venture out into uncharted
waters.
10. See the reflections by E. Panofsky on the motif of Hercules as
an image of Christ in Studies in Iconology (Oxford, 1939; Boulder,
Colo., 1972) pp. 19–20.
11. See the color photograph in F. Mancinelli, Catacombs and
Basilicas: The Early Christians in Rome (Florence, 1981) p. 37 (no.
72).
12. See Charlesworth, The Beloved Disciple: Whose Witness
Validates the Gospel of John? (Valley Forge, Pa., 1995).
13. Charlesworth, The New Discoveries in St. Catherine’s
Monastery: A Preliminary Report on the Manuscripts (Winona Lake,
Ind., 1981); see Plate 3. The copy of Mark is from the sixth century;
over forty additional leaves have been recovered (it seems).
14. J. Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel (Oxford, 1993) p.
365.
15. F. L. Godet, Commentary on John’s Gospel (Grand Rapids,
1978 [1886]) pp. 391–92.
16. Translation mine. M.-J. Lagrange, Evangile selon Saint Jean
(Paris, 1925 [2nd ed.]) p. 81.
17. C. H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel
(Cambridge, 1960) p. 353.
18. R. Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. G. R.
Beasley-Murray (Oxford, 1964) pp. 151–53. In a note on p. 152,
Bultmann adds “John puts no emphasis on the identification of Jesus
with the serpent.” This is correct, but Bultmann perceived that John,
without emphasis, did identify Jesus with the serpent.
19. R. Schnackenburg, The Gospel According to St. John, 3 vols.,
trans. K. Smyth (New York, 1965) vol. 1, pp. 395–96.
20. R. E. Brown, The Gospel According to John, 2 vols. (Anchor
Yale Bible; Garden City, N.Y., London, 1966, 1971; reprint New Haven)
vol. 1, pp. 145–46.
21. W. R. Cook, The Theology of John (Chicago, 1979) p. 75.
22. E. Haenchen, John 1, trans. R. W. Funk (Philadelphia, 1980) p.
204, see p. 207.
23. G. S. Sloyan, John (Atlanta, 1988) p. 46.
24. D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John (Leicester,
England, Grand Rapids, 1991) p. 201.
25. L. Morris, The Gospel According to John (Grand Rapids, 1995
[rev. ed.]) p. 199.
26. T. L. Brodie, The Gospel According to John (New York, Oxford,
1993) p. 199.
27. Schnackenburg, The Gospel According to St. John, vol. 1, p.
396.
28. Translation mine. E. Ruckstuhl, Jesus im Horizont der
Evangelien (Stuttgart, 1988) p. 308.
29. P. W. Comfort and W. C. Hawley, Opening the Gospel of John
(Wheaton, 1994) p. 50.
30. Hellenistic Commentary to the New Testament, ed. M. E.
Boring, K. Berger, and C. Colpe (Nashville, 1995) pp. 260–61.
31. C. R. Koester, Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel (Minneapolis,
1995).
32. D. T. Olson, Numbers (Louisville, 1996) p. 137.
33. The Targum Onkelos to Numbers has the people grumble
against “the Memra of the Lord.” See I. Drazin, Targum Onkelos to
Numbers (University of Denver, 1998) pp. 208–9.
34. Also see Num 21:8. The translators of the TANAKH chose “the
Lord sent seraph serpents against the people,” and added a footnote:
“Others ‘fiery’; exact meaning of Heb. seraph uncertain” (their use of
italics). J. Milgrom also chooses not to translate seraph. He also points
out that the LXX has “deadly” and Targum Onkelos “burning.” J.
Milgrom, Numbers (Philadelphia, 1990) p. 174.
35. Olson, Numbers, p. 136.
36. Note that Philo of Byblos refers to the sacred serpents or
snakes that are “fiery” (HE 1.10.46).
 37. Also see the discussion of 2 Kgs 18:4 later in this book.
38. See B. Rothenberg, Timna: Valley of the Biblical Copper Mines
(London, 1972) pp. 129–32.
39. Milgrom, Numbers, p. 175.
40. S. R. Hirsch, The Pentateuch: Numbers, trans. I. Levy
(Gateshead, 1989) vol. 4, p. 382.
41. P. J. Budd fails to do so in his Numbers (Waco, Tex., 1984) pp.
232–35.
42. T. R. Ashley and J. Scharbert do not clarify that the serpent was
often viewed as a positive symbol in the ancient Near East. See
Ashley, The Book of Numbers (Grand Rapids, 1993) pp. 402–6; J.
Scharbert, Numeri (Wurzburg, 1992) pp. 84–85.
43. M. Noth, Numbers: A Commentary, trans. James D. Martin
(Philadelphia, 1968) p. 158.
44. B. Maarsingh, Numbers, trans. J. Vriend (Grand Rapids, 1985)
p. 75.
45. Translation mine. H. Jagersma, Numeri, 3 vols. (Nijkerk, 1983–
90) vol. 2, p. 89.
46. Milgrom, Numbers, p. 459.
47. R. K. Harrison, Numbers (Chicago, 1990) p. 278.
48. Olson, Numbers, p. 136.
49. Noth, Numbers, p. 157.
50. Maarsingh, Numbers, p. 76. Unfortunately, Maarsingh refers to
the copper (bronze) serpent as an “objectified evil.” The copper
serpent is symbolic of the good; it is the sign that God is the source of
healing.
51. Jagersma, Numeri, vol. 2, p. 90.
52. Milgrom, Numbers, p. 173.
53. Translation mine. Scharbert, Numeri, p. 84.
54. Harrison, Numbers, p. 277.
55. Ashley, The Book of Numbers, pp. 405–6.
56. Olson, Numbers, p. 137.
57. See esp J. G. Frazer, “The Story of the Cast Skin,” Folk-lore in
the Old Testament: Studies in Comparative Religion, Legend and Law
(London, 1918) vol. 1, pp. 66–74.
58. K. R. Joines, Serpent Symbolism in the Old Testament: A
Linguistic, Archaeological, and Literary Study (Haddonfield, N.J., 1974)
p. vi.
59. Barn. 12.6; for the Greek see either K. Lake, The Apostolic
Fathers (LCL 24; Cambridge, Mass., London, 1965) vol. 1, p. 384, or
A. Lindemann and H. Paulsen, Die Apostolischen Vdter (Tubingen,
1992) p. 56.
60. See the insightful comments and the abundance of
iconographical symbols in M. Avi-Yonah, Art in Ancient Palestine
(Jerusalem, 1981).
61. As W. B. Tatum proved, the LXX clarifies that some Jews after
the Exile understood the Second Commandment to be polemically
anti-idolic: “You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form
of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or
that is in the water under the earth” (RSV; Exod 20:4 = Deut 5:8).
Tatum rightly points out that in the Greek rendering the word for “idol,”
eidolon, receives a unique new nuance in Hellenistic Judaism. It
designates not something only partially real but “alien gods and their
images.” Tatum, “The LXX Version of the Second Commandment (Ex.
20, 3–6 = Deut. 5, 7–10: A Polemic Against Idols, Not Images,” JSJ 17
(1986): 176–95; see esp. pp. 184–86.
62. D. Simpson, Judas Iscariot: The Man of Mystery, History, and
Prophecy (Waterloo, Iowa, 1943).
63. M. Rudwin, The Devil in Legend and Literature (La Salle, 111.,
1931) p. 43.
64. J. B. Russell, The Devil: Perceptions of Evil from Antiquity to
Primitive Christianity (Ithaca, London, 1977) p. 218. M. Eliade’s
insights, quoted on p. 68, are not formative.
65. J. B. Russell, The Prince of Darkness (Ithaca, London, 1988) p.
63.
66. A. K. Turner, The History of Hell (New York, London, 1993) p.
64. In so far as this statement is focused only on the ApJn it is
somewhat accurate, but that is not clear in Turner’s book.
67. P. Stanford, The Devil (New York, 1996) p. 2.
68. A better paradigm for studying the symbols of Satan and the
various meanings of serpent symbolism is found in P. Carus, The
History of the Devil and the Idea of Evil (Chicago, 1900; New York,
1996).
69. See the similar reflections by P. Stanford, when he is
summarizing Jung’s thought, in The Devil, p. 273.
70. We will see that the name “Eve” does not appear this early in
the story; the quotation is from G. Messadie, The History of the Devil,
trans. M. Romano (London, 1996) p. 228.
71. The first one to suggest that the serpent is the Devil may well
be the author of the Wisdom of Solomon (cf. Wis 2:23–24). Also, see
the judicious comments by S. H. T. Page, Powers of Evil: A Biblical
Study of Satan and Demons (Grand Rapids, 1995) esp. pp. 14–15.
72. See esp. J. B. Russell, Lucifer: The Devil in the Middle Ages
(Ithaca, London, 1984) p. 67.
73. E. Gardiner, ed., Visions of Heaven and Hell Before Dante
(New York, 1989) esp. p. 177.
74. Lord Byron, “Cain: A Mystery,” in The Works of Lord Byron
(Ware, Hertfordshire, 1994) p. 511.
75. The Works of Lord Byron, p. 515 (italics not mine).
76. Calvin, The Gospel According to St. John, trans. T. H. L.
Parker, ed. D. W. Torrance and T. F. Torrance (Grand Rapids, 1988) p.
73.
77. Most of the books that bear the noun “serpent” in the title have
nothing to do with this creature. The fascination with snakes is simply
employed to sell a book. N. Jones’ Power of Raven: Wisdom of
Serpent (1994) is, however, a penetrating examination of Celtic
women’s spirituality. For lore on the serpent, see pp. 106–7, 127, 130,
179. For research on the Yoga of Kundalini Sakti, see A. Avalon (Sir
John Woodroffe), The Serpent Power (1919, 1964 [7th ed.]).
78. Far too many books also fail to include a discussion of the
serpent. See, for example, K. König, Bruder Tier: Mensch und Tier in
Mythos und Evolution (Stuttgart, 1967).
79. Some authors, whom one would expect to include a discussion
of ophidian iconography, provide no help. The serpent does not fear
the human when the latter is naked; pace O. Seel, Der Physiologus:
Tiere und ihre Symbolik (Zürich, 1995 [7thed.]) p. 20.
80. H. M. Westropp and C. S. Wake, Ancient Symbol Worship
(1875; Whitefish, Mont., 1997) p. 39.
81. J. Wyly examines the Priapus myth, moving “freely between the
realms of physiology and imagination,” and avoids any connection
between phallus and serpent, although he includes an image of
Priapus with a snake (from the archaeological museum in Verona).
Wyly, The Phallic Quest: Priapus and Masculine Inflation (Toronto,
1989). The quotation is on p. 12. The illustrations are frequently taken
from the Greek and Roman periods, and many of them are from
Pompeii or Herculaneum.
82. See the illustration on p. 39 in D. Leeming and J. Page,
Goddess: Myths of the Female Divine (New York, Oxford, 1994).
83. For a drawing, see S. Schroer and T. Staubli, Body Symbolism
in the Bible, trans. L. M. Maloney (Collegeville, Minn., 2001) p. 165.
84. The full bibliography for each work will be given in a note the
first time the publication is cited. The reference data will also be found
in the Selected “Serpent” Bibliography. I have cited only books at this
point; that is to stress the abundant—basically unknown—research on
serpent imagery.
85. K. Lapatin, Mysteries of the Snake Goddess: Art, Desire, and
the Forging of History (Boston, New York, 2002). Lapatin amasses
data that tend to discredit the authenticity of the statue of the snake
goddess in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. That figure and fifteen
other so-called Minoan statuettes can no “longer be employed as
evidence for Aegean Bronze Age art, religion, or culture” (p. 187).
86. Also, see R. W. Hood, “When the Spirit Maims and Kills: Social
Psychological Considerations of the History of Serpent Handling Sects
and the Narrative of Handlers,” IntJPsycholRelig 8 (1998) 71–96. See
the impressive bibliography on pp. 94–96.
87. Joines, Serpent Symbolism in the Old Testament.
88. See esp. regarding the serpent as the symbol of rejuvenation,
Eliade, “Myths of the Origin of Death,” in his Essential Sacred Writings
from Around the World (San Francisco, 1967) pp. 139–44.
89. U. Winter, Frau und Göttin (OBO 53; Freiburg and Göttingen,
1983); H. Brunner, Das Hörende Herz (OBO 80; Freiburg and
Göttingen, 1988); A. Berlejung, Die Theologie der Bilder (OBO 162;
Freiburg and Göttingen, 1998).
90. J. Milgrom, Handmade Midrash (Philadelphia, 1992).
 91. J. H. Charlesworth, “The Pictorial Apocrypha and Art History,”
in M. Bernabo, Pseudepigraphical Images in Early Art (North Richland
Hills, Tex. 2001) p. ix.
92. See, e.g., C. Luz, Das Exotische Tier in der Europäischen
Kunst (Stuttgart, 1987).
93. See S. Battaglia, Grande dizionario della lingua Italiana, 20
vols. (Turin, 1996).
94. Ibid., vol. 18, pp. 738–39. This noun appears in Dante’s Inferno
to denote the serpent that torments the wicked (Inf. 25–91).
95. Ibid., vol. 18, p. 739.
96. Ibid., vol. 18, pp. 740–41.
97. Ibid., vol. 18, pp. 741–42. For the meaning “to move elegantly
and with agility,” see Verga 2.308. For the meaning “to be astute,” see
Fausto da Longiano 4.43.
98. The Rainbow Spirit, the focus of all creation, is a serpent. See
esp. J. Corowa and N. Habel, for “the Rainbow Spirit Elders,” The
Rainbow Spirit in Creation (Collegeville, Minn., 2000).
99. B. Johnson, Lady of the Beasts: Ancient Images of the
Goddess and Her Sacred Animals (San Francisco, 1988) p. 124.
100. A. T. Mann and J. Lyle, Sacred Sexuality (Rockport, 1995) p.
16.
101. M. Gimbutas, The Language of the Goddess (San Francisco,
1989) p. 121.
102. See M. Girard, Les symboles dans la Bible (Paris, 1991) p.
827.

2. Physiology Undergirds Symbology

1. The sins of the institution called “the church” are many, of course.
See the work by H.-J. Wolf, Sünde der Kirche (Hamburg, 1998). I
celebrate the exposing of the sins of those who failed to lead the
church and recall the depiction of the leaders of Israel as the wicked
shepherds (1 En and Jn). Much of Wolf’s presentation is jaded: the
Christian belief is not a constructed picture of deception (“ein
konstruiertes Trugbild,” p. 443), and the Christian belief in the Devil is
not a false interpretation of history and groundless (p. 484), but it is in
need of demythologizing.
2. M. Martinek, Wie die Schlange zum Teufel Wurde: Die Symbolik
in der Paradiesgeschichte von der hebräischen Bibel bis zum Koran
(Wiesbaden, 1996).
3. J. J. Kambach, Betrachtung des Geheimnisses Jesu Christi in
dem Vorbilde der Ehernen Schlange (Halle, 1728). Kambach
explained “das alte Testament aus dem neuen zu erläutern” (p. 6). He
was convinced that “es habe die erhöhete eherne Schlange nicht
Christum, sondern den Satan abgebildet” (p. 6). The contrast is clear:
“Es ist allzu klar, dass in der Auslgegung Jesu Christi die erhöhete
Schlange und der erhöhete Menschen-Sohn einander entgegen
gesetzet werden” (pp. 6–7).
4. “Die alte Schlange, Sünd und Tod, / die Höll, all Jammer, Angst
und Not / hat überwunden Jesus Christ, / der heut vom Tod erstanden
ist.” Stuttgart, 1996, p. 242 (also see hymns 39, verse 5, 111, verse 9,
113, verse 2, 509, verse 1; all are negative images of the serpent).
5. A. Baeumler, ed., Friedrich Nietzsche Werke (Leipzig, 1930) vol.
4, p. 291.
6. See E. Fahmüller et al., Das grosse Lexikon der Malerei
(Braunschweig, 1982) p. 601.
7. In Anonymous, Meisterwerke der Kunst: Malerei von A-Z (Chur,
Switzerland, 1994) p. 694.
8. R. Briffault, The Mothers: The Matriarchal Theory of Social
Origins (New York, 1931) p. 48. Briffault is intent on establishing his
thesis that tender emotions and affection “have then their origins not in
sexual attraction, but in maternal reactions” (p. 51). He does raise
some valid points, and it is alarming to review the evidence that leads
to the claim: “All carnivorous animals and rodents are cannibalistic” (p.
47), and that lions, tigers, leopards, and wolves have been observed
eating their mates.
9. H. R. E. Davison, God and Myths of Northern Europe (London,
New York, 1990) pp. 26–27, 138–39, 188, 202.
10. I have amassed so much data to illustrate ophidian
iconography and symbology that it is difficult to be selective. One of
my discoveries is the vast evidence of ophidian (anguine) artwork
(esp. sculptures) and jewelry from antiquity. Much of it dates from or
near the first century CE. For bibliographical data to publications on
the items mentioned in the list, see the following pages and the
Selected “Serpent” Bibliography.
11. He stands on the backs of two lions. Perhaps the mix of images
(water, bulls, snakes, vegetation) was intended to support some
ancient rain rite. See the discussion and photograph in S. Piggott, The
Dawn of Civilization (New York, London, 1967) p. 69.
12. This ring was found at Vik in Sogn. It belonged to a woman and
dates from about 300 CE. The woman was probably wealthy. The
Vikings or Norsemen were gifted craftsmen, as we know not only from
this ring but from the intricate woodwork on their ships. I am grateful to
Professor P. Borgen for helping my study of Viking art. On Viking art
and myth, see M. J. Roberts, Mythologie der Wikinger (Kettwig,
[1997?]). The god Jormungand is a serpent (see the image of the god
swallowing his tail, as Orouboros, on p. 57).
13. See, notably, I. Clarus, Keltische Mythen (Augsburg, 1997) pp.
35–36; also see the snakes on pp. 302–3.
14. See the photograph and discussion in C. Meier-Seethaler, Von
der göttlichen Löwin zum Wahrzeichen männlicher Macht: Ursprung
und Wandel grosser Symbole (Zurich, 1993) esp. p. 214.
15. See E. J. Krige, The Social System of the Zulus (London, 1950
[2nd ed.]) p. 357.
16. The drum was found at Rio Grande de Nasca in southern Peru;
see the color photograph and discussion in E. J. Milleker, ed., The
Year One: Art of the Ancient World—East and West (New Haven and
New York, 2000) pp. 202–3. Also see the serpent images displayed
and discussed in K. Sälzle, Tier und Mensch: Gottheit und Dämon:
Das Tier in der Geistesgeschichte der Menschheit (Munich, 1965) pp.
50–51.
17. See G. W. Locher, The Serpent in Kwakiutl Religion (Leiden,
1932); B. Mundkur, “The Cult of the Serpent in the Americas: Its Asian
Background,” Current Anthropology 17 (1976) 429–55. Mundkur points
out that the serpent in American culture was venerated because of
“the awe it generated,” and because “man’s reverential fear of this
animal is extraordinarily primordial” (p. 429). A. M. Warburg, who
founded the Warburg Institute in London, was fascinated by the Native
Americans; note his publications on the serpent: Schlangenritual: Ein
Reisebericht (Berlin, 1988), Images from the Religion of the Pueblo
Indians of North America (Ithaca, London, 1955), and “A Lecture on
Serpent Ritual,” Journal of the Warburg Institute 2.277–92. Warburg
pointed out parallels between the Native American snake ceremonies
and the Dionysiac rituals in which “Maenads danced with live snakes
entwining their hair like diadems,” while holding a snake in one hand
(p. 288). This thought should be kept and rekindled when we examine
the Minoan snake goddesses (or priestesses). For the Hopi Indians,
see G. A. Dorsey, The Mishongnovi Ceremonies of the Snake and
Antelope Fraternities (Field Columbian Museum Publications 66;
Chicago, 1902). For the Native American snake dance, see J. W.
Fewkes, Tusayan Snake Ceremonies (Washington, 1897) and W.
Hough, The Moki Snake Dance (Sante Fe Route, 1898). Hough
published sixty-four photographs from the late nineteenth century; see
esp. p. 13 for the entrance of the snake priests.
18. See H. Zimmer, Myths and Symbols in Indian Art and
Civilization (New York, 1946, 1947). Also see A. Avalon, The Serpent
Power: Being the Shat-Chakra-Nirüpana and Püdukü-Panchaka
(Madras, 1924).
19. See E. A. W. Budge, Osiris and the Egyptian Resurrection, 2
vols. (London, New York, n.d. [1911]) vol. 2, pp. 237–38.
20. L. N. Hayes reported that 70 percent of the Chinese in the
1920s believed in the existence of “real dragons.” He pointed out that
these dragons are not “horrible monsters” but “friendly creatures.” See
his The Chinese Dragon (Shanghai, China, 1922 [3rd ed.]). Also see
J.-P. Dieny, Le symbolisme du dragon dans la Chine Antique (Paris,
1994) and M. W. de Visser, The Dragon in China and Japan
(Amsterdam, 1913). For a discussion of Chinese dragons and images
from the fifth century BCE to the eighteenth century CE, see Sälzle,
Tier und Mensch, pp. 233–76.
21. See H. Ritter, Die Schlange in der Religions der Melanesier
(Basel, 1945).
22. See J. Verschueren, Le culte du Vaudoux en Haiti: Ophiolätre
et Animisme (Belgium, 1948).
23. See H. Cory, Wall-Paintings by Snake Charmers in Tanganyika
(London, n.d.). H. Cory was the government anthropologist in
Tanganyika.
24. F. C. Oldham, The Sun and the Serpent (London, 1905) p. 5.
25. Scholars are often asked to explain how they work and proceed
with investigations. The published report cannot reflect the process. It
is always a mixture of what had been asked previously and what has
been discovered in the years of research. The previous statement,
although it comes at the beginning of this work, could only have been
written near the end of it.
26. R. C. Zaehner, Hinduism (London, New York, 1962) p. 191.
27. N. Smart, The Religious Experience of Mankind (New York,
1969) p. 120.
28. See I. Clarus’ discussion in Keltische Mythen, p. 309. For the
illustration of the three-headed god, see p. 39.
29. J. Boulnois, Le caducée et la symbolique dravidienne indo-
méditerranéenne, de l’arbre, de la pierre, du serpent et de la déesse-
mère (Paris, 1939).
30. J. B. Russell, The Devil (Ithaca, London, 1977) p. 69.
31. See B. D. Haage, “Das Ouroboros—Symbol in ‘Parzival,’ “
Würzburger Medizinhistorische Mitteilungen 1 (1983) 5–22; S.
Mahdihassan, “The Significance of Ouroboros in Alchemy and in
Primitive Symbolism,” Iqbal (1963) 18–47; and W. Deonna,
“Ouroboros,” Artibus Asiae 15 (1952) 163–70. Deonna rightly points
out that in the Middle East, Iran, and Rome, there is abundant
evidence “of the circular serpent, a symbol of the cosmos, and the
notion of eternity which obtains diverse nuances” (p. 170).
32. For a good illustration, see B. Johnson, Lady of the Beasts:
Ancient Images of the Goddess and Her Sacred Animals (San
Francisco, 1990) illus. no. 174.
33. Johnson, ibid., pp. 158–59.
34. See P. Foucart in Bull. Corr. Hell. 7 (1883) 511ff.
35. See K. H. Hunger, Der Äskulapstab (Berlin, 1978) p. 112. See
the other icono-graphical examples he presents, esp. on p. 113.
36. See the color photograph in Fahmüller et al., Das grosse
Lexikon der Malerei, p. 614.
37. Copies of Aurora consurgens are housed in Glasgow
(University Library; MS Ferguson 6), Zurich (Zentralbibliothek; MS
Rhenoviensis 172), Leiden (MS Vossiani Chemici F. 29), Paris (the
Bibliothèque Nationale; MS Parisinus Latinus 14006), Prague
(Universitni Knihovna; MS VI. Fd. 26 and in Chapitre Métropolitain; MS
1663. O. LXXIX) and Berlin (Staatsbibliothek Preussischer
Kulturbesitz; MS Germ. qu. 848).
38. D. Fontana, The Secret Language of Symbols (San Francisco,
1994) p. 8.
39. In western Europe, at the beginning of the twentieth century,
women would go to a cave in Lanuvium in which there was a snake. If
the snake ate what had been baked, their prayers would be answered.
See E. Rein, “Die Schlangenhöhle von Lanu-vium,” Annales Acad. Sc.
Fennicae B, XI, 3 (1919) 3–22.
40. See esp. E. Giancristofaro and I. Bellotta, Il culto di San
Domenico a Cocullo (Corfinio, 1998); N. Chiocchio, Iserparia Cocullo
(Tivoli, 2000). Also see P. D’Alberto et al., eds., Popoli e riti: Aspetti di
religiosità popolare nell’entroterra abruzzse (Corfinio, 2000) esp. pp.
11–21. I am grateful to Maria Adelaide Ghinozzi, mother of G.
Boccaccini, for helping me study this serpent cult now active in Italy.
Also see L. C. Smith, “A Survival of an Ancient Cult in the Bruzzi,”
Studi e Materiali di Storia delle Religioni 4 (1928) 106–19; N. Lewis,
“Snakes of San Domenico,” The Independent Magazine (21 October
1989) 74–76.
41. H. Bayley, The Lost Language of Symbolism, 2 vols. (London,
1912; reprinted by The Book Tree of Escondido, Calif. in 2000) vol. 1,
p. 11. It is frustrating to work with Bayley’s books; he illustrates his two
volumes with 1,418 images but never clarifies their source.
42. See esp. E. Schmidt, Le Grand Autel de Pergame (Leipzig,
1962); see esp. Plate 710, and notably 16 and 28; also see A.
Schober, Die Kunst von Pergamon (Vienna, 1951).
43. See esp. H. Busch and G. Edelmann, eds., Etruskische Kunst
(Frankfurt am Main, 1969) p. 95. The Etruscans also depicted
Persephone with snakes on her head, jewelry in the form of serpents,
dancing girls with serpents in the background or at their feet, and lions
with serpents as tails. See L. Banti, Die Etrusker (Essen, n.d. perhaps
1998).
44. J. A. Peters, “Serpents,” The New Encyclopeaedia Britannica;
Micropaedia (1968) vol. 16, p. 560.
45. J. Coborn, The Atlas of Snakes of the World (Neptune City,
N.J., 1991) p. 11.
46. See esp. the reflections in G. R. Zug, L. J. Vitt, and J. P.
Caldwell, Herpetology (San Diego, New York, London, 2001 [2nd ed.])
p. xi.
47. The snake appeared on the earth about 100 to 150 million
years ago. See “Die Stammesgeschichte der Reptilien,” in R. Bauchot,
ed., Schlangen, trans. C. Ronsiek (Augsburg, 1994) p. 33. Also see C.
Mattison, “Evolution,” in Snake (New York, 1999) p. 8, and Mattison,
The Encyclopedia of Snakes (New York, 1995) p. 11.
48. I am grateful to my numerous colleagues in South Africa with
whom I discussed the snake. For eighteen years I lived in southern
Florida and periodically near the Everglades. I frequented the
Serpentarium in Miami. Yet I have learned the most, it seems, from
reading ophiologists’ publications. I have been especially influenced by
the articles in R. Bauchot, ed., Schlangen; J. Coborn, The Atlas of
Snakes of the World; G. Z. Zug, L. J. Vitt, and J. P. Caldwell,
Herpetology; C. Mattison, Snakes of the World (London, 1992, 1998);
H. W. Greene, Snakes: The Evolution of Mystery in Nature (Berkeley,
London, 1997); C. Mattison, The Encyclopedia of Snakes, 1995); and
C. Mattison, Snake. I have also studied snakes in many zoos, notably,
the ones on Crete and in Berlin, Washington, London, Jerusalem,
Johannesburg, and New York.
49. Mattison, Snakes of the World, p. 19.
50. D. Botting, Humboldt and the Cosmos (London, 1973) pp. 105,
122.
51. Mattison, Snake, p. 6.
52. Vestigial limbs are found on some snakes today. It seems
evident that the snake evolved from lizards with legs. The legs were
worn away and became useless, perhaps due to burrowing. See
Mattison, Snake, pp. 8, 17 (photograph of vestigial limbs). Also see
Mattison, The Encyclopedia of Snakes, p. 10 and p. 13 (the color
photograph on the bottom right).
53. It is named Haasiophis terrasanctus; see “Fossil gets a leg up
on snake family tree,” Science News, April 1, 2000.
54. See J.-P. Gasc, “Fortbewegung,” in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen,
pp. 60–73.
55. Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics (New York, 1966) vol. 11,
p. 407.
56. Coborn, The Atlas of Snakes, p. 38.
57. Coborn, The Atlas of Snakes, pp. 19–20.
58. See Greene, Snakes, pp. 143–53. The South African Blind
Snake (Bibron’s Blind Snake, Typhlops bibronii) is covered with scales
and has minute eyes that “appear as black dots below the head
shields.” R. Patterson, Snakes (Cape Town, 1986) p. 4. R. Patterson is
the director of the Transvaal Snake Park. B. Branch points out that
snakes’ eyes, “when present, lack eyelids and have an unblinking
stare; many legless lizards retain eyelids. However, burrowing snakes
and lizards require neither eyes nor enlarged ventral scales, and many
have lost both.” B. Branch, South African Snakes and Other Reptiles
(Cape Town, 1993) p. 6.
59. For pictures of a Boomslang, see the photographs in Mattison,
Snake, pp. Hull; for a photograph of a Yellow Blunt-headed Vinesnake,
see the color photograph in Greene, Snakes, p. 29.
60. Lear has used the colloquial “sarpint” (which is not a word) to
stress the vulgarity of the limerick. The German version is a free
composition: “Es lockt’ ein Flötist vom Trifels / eine Schlange ins Innre
des Stiefels; / doch er spielte—o Graus!—/ tagein und tagaus—/ da
verliess sie den Mann vom Trifels.” See E. Lear, Sämtliche Limericks:
English/Deutsch, ed. and trans. T. Stemmler (Stuttgart, 1988) p. 15.
61. For a color photograph see Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, p. 102;
also see the diagram on p. 25. Also see Mattison, Snake, p. 30 (color
photograph at top right of page). A picture of hemipenes removed from
a rattlesnake is shown in J. Coborn, The Atlas of Snakes, on p. 95
(bottom right color photograph) and one removed from a cobra is
presented on p. 96 (top color photograph).
62. See the arresting color photographs in Bauchot, ed.,
Schlangen, p. 53.
63. Sometimes the snake swallows its prey headfirst, sometimes
tail-first; for the latter, see the picture of the Coral snake swallowing a
Northern Cat-eyed Snake, whose mouth protrudes from the victor’s
mouth. See Greene, Snakes, p. 67.
64. Using the language of W. Rose in Reptiles and Amphibians of
Southern Africa, according to Greene, Snakes, p. 143.
65. Greene reports that scientists discovered that a snake weighing
23 grams had eaten a 29-gram mouse. See Greene, Snakes, p. 51.
66. See the color photographs in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, pp.
108–17.
67. I am indebted to Dr. Haast who along with his assistants shared
similar thoughts with me in 1954.
68. Baltasar Graciän (1601–1658) thought that after “20 years the
human is a peacock, after 30 a lion, after 40 a camel, after 50 a
serpent, after 60 a dog, after 70 a monkey, after 80 nothing” (p. 275).
See B. Graciän, Handorakel und Kunst der Weltklugheit, trans. A.
Schopenhauer (Stuttgart, 1961). For the concept that the snake and
pigeon evoke wonder, see p. 103.
69. Anonymous, Meisterwerke der Kunst: Malerei von A-Z (Chur,
Switzerland, 1994) p. 403.
70. Note, e.g., how the green parrotsnake looks like depictions of
aliens. See the color picture in Greene, Snakes, p. 3. Long after
finishing this chapter, I came across J. Lewis’ “The Reptilians:
Humanity’s Historical Link to the Serpent Race,” Fate (June 1996). I
read the work from the web, Reptilian Research Archives. I wish to
disassociate myself from his claims. He seems not to know the
difference between the caduceus and the Asclepian staff.
71. For color photographs of cobras, see J. Coborn, The Atlas of
Snakes, esp. pp. 445–52.
72. See the color photograph in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, front
page, before title page, and p. 11.
73. See the color photograph in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, p. 83.
74. The behavior of snakes when faced with apparent danger is
difficult to access. In 2000, I was in a bass boat fishing with my son.
We saw what we thought might be three cottonmouth moccasins
swimming toward the boat. I watched as one swam by and climbed up
on the bank. It moved through the grass, without disturbing the grass
and without giving any sign of moving. I have been told, while living
near the Everglades, that moccasins are mean-tempered and have
been known to chase someone up a path. The published reports tend
to claim that “some cottonmouths are quick to retreat; others will coil,
vibrate the tail, and open the mouth in a threatening pose.” W. M.
Palmer, Poisonous Snakes of North Carolina (Raleigh, 1978) p. 13.
75. Mattison is convinced that snakes “rely on passive strategies as
a first line of defense.” Snake, p. 26.
76. The python is the longest snake; it has been recorded to reach
about 10 meters. There is reason to doubt the claim in 1907 that Sir
Percy Fawcett killed an anaconda that measured 19 meters. See
Mattison, Snake, p. 12.
77. See the magnificent color photographs and insightful reflection
in M. Klum’s “King Cobra: Feared, Revered,” National Geographic
(November 2001) 100–113, and p. 126 (not numbered).
78. C. Burland and W. Forman. Gefiederte Schlange und
Rauchender Spiegel, trans. H. Schmidthüs (Freiburg, Basel, 1977).
79. See esp. the photographs in M. Schmidt, Der Basler
Medeasarkophag (Tübignen, n.d. [c. 1998]) pp. 3, 28, 31, 32. The
Medeasage Sarkophag in the Antikensammlung of the Pergamon
Museum is arresting. It is Roman and dates from the second century
CE. The marble is intricately carved. On the right are two large
serpents with large eyes, scales, and wings. The serpents are curled
around the wheels of Medea’s chariot. She raises her right hand and
directs the powerful creatures forward to her destiny.
80. See R. Bauchot and Y. Vasse, “Die Häuntung,” in Schlangen,
pp. 18–21. Mammals and birds shed skin continuously, but shedding
“occurs from every four days for some amphibians to once or twice
every year for old, large reptiles” ([No editor], Reptiles and Amphibians
[Discovery Channel; New York, 2000] p. 34).
81. The serpent appears repeatedly in ancient fables, see esp. J.
Irmscher, trans., Antike Fabeln (Berlin and Weimar, 1991). See the
index, pp. 491–92.
82. T. Weber and R. Wenning, eds., Petra: Antike Felsstadt
zwischen Arabischer Tradition und Griechischer Norm (Mainz am
Rhein, 1997) illustrations 129a, 129b, 129c on p. 117.
83. R. Briffault, “The Serpent and Eternal Life,” in The Mothers: A
Study of the Origins of Sentiments and Institutions, 2 vols. (New York,
1927) vol. 2, pp. 641–51.
84. G. Balanchine and F. Mason, Balanchine’s Festival of Ballet
(London, 1978) pp. 204–5. See the color photographs on pp. 204–5.
The gold serpent was found in Chiriqui, Panama.
85. Mattison, Snake, p. 120.
86. See the color photograph in A. B. Amaducci, Die Brancacci-
Kapelle und Masaccio (Florence, 1978). Also see U. Baldini and O.
Casazza, The Brancacci Chapel, trans. R. Sadleir (Florence, 1996
[rev. ed.]) esp. p. 16.
87. See the color photograph of the cigarette case in G. von
Habsburg, Faberge: Hofjuwelier der Zaren (Munich, 1986) p. 237. Also
see the serpent on the sketches for an inkwell (p. 63). The sun
umbrella is shown in color on p. 123 (no. 122). The pen, also in vivid
color, is found on p. 169 (no. 237).
88. Greene points out the vast amount of unknown data regarding
biochemistry, pharmacology, and the biological roles of venoms. See
his Snakes, pp. 86–88.
89. See the color photographs in C. Laisne, Kunst der Griechen
(Paris, 1995) pp. 172–73.
90. Fahmüller et al., Das grosse Lexikon der Malerei, p. 265 (in
color).
91. See the color photographs in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, p. 23.
92. Priapus appears in a wall-painting in the House of the Vettii in
Pompeii. For a color photograph, see C. Jones, Sex or Symbol? Erotic
Images of Greece and Rome (London, 1989) illus. 6.
93. See, e.g., H. Schmökel, Ur, Assur und Babylon (Stuttgart,
1955) esp. Plates 58 and 83.
94. Farvardin Yasht (Yasht 13, 131); see V. S. Curtis, Persian
Myths (London, 1998) p. 26. Also see “Zahhak, the serpent-
shouldered ruler” on pp. 33–34. Curtis is the editor of Iran, which is
published by the British Institute of Persian Studies.
95. See W. W. Malandra, trans. and ed, An Introduction to Ancient
Iranian Religion (Minneapolis, 1983) p. 91.
96. The mithraea at Ostia are late, dating from the second to third
centuries CE.
97. In the second-century CE mural painting in Marino’s
Mithraeum, the serpent is depicted either drinking the blood of the
injured bull or helping Mithra defeat the monster. In the mural painting
in the Mithraeum in Via Morelli, S. Maria Capua Vetere, the serpent
occupies the ground beneath Mithra. In all scenes the serpent is
depicted as Mithra’s assistant. See B. Andreae, L’Art de l’ancienne
Rome (Paris, 1973) illustrations 105 and 106.
98. See the comments by E. M. Yamauchi, Persia and the Bible
(Grand Rapids, 1996) pp. 502–14.
99. I have been able to discern a vast difference among examples
of the Tauroctony in Cologne, Berlin, London, and elsewhere. In some,
I am convinced, the serpent helps Mithra to slay the bull. The scorpion,
which Cumont also thought was an evil creature, also helps Mithra; he
is often depicted biting the testicles of the bull. The scorpion is
frequently portrayed as a companion of the human as well as one who
helps in copulation and creation, providing nourishment and prosperity.
I am grateful to Professor O. Keel for discussion regarding the
meaning of the scorpion. See Keel and C. Ueh-linger, Gods,
Goddesses, and Images of God in Ancient Israel, trans. T. H. Trapp
(Minneapolis, 1998) esp. pp. 149–50.
100. R. Merkelbach, Mithras: Ein persisch-römischer Mysterienkult
(Wiesbaden, 1998) p. 91; see the serpent apparently biting the bull in
Plate 18 on p. 279. Also see p. 395.
101. See W. and B. Forman (illustrations) and N. Chotas, H. Kreutz
(text), et al., “Die Kunst der Luristanischen Hirten,” in Kunst ferner
Länder (Prague, [1969?]) pp. 28–33.
102. For a similar object, see H. Henning von der Osten, Die Welt
der Perser (Stuttgart, 1956) Plate 31, and [R. Ghirshman, ed.?], 7000
Jahre Kunst in Iran (Villa Hügel and Essen, 1962) Plate 139.
103. Dante Alighieri, Die Göttliche Komödie: Italienisch und
Deutsch, ed. and trans. H. Gmelin, 2 vols. (Stuttgart, 1949 [reprinted in
1988 by Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag in Munich]) vol. 1, p. 106. Also
see Canto Decimosettimo for the depictions of monsters with long tails
whose bodies are mostly serpents. In Canto Nono 76, Dante refers to
the frogs, the damned, that are devoured by the evil serpent (vol. 1, p.
110; cf. vol. 2, p. 174 for a commentary). For the water serpent
(chelidri), see Canto Ventesimoquarto 86 (p. 286). For the serpent with
six feet (un serpente con sei pie si lancia), see Canto Ventesimoquinto
50 (p. 296).
104. K. O. Conrady, ed., Das grosse deutsche Gedichtbuch
(Königstein, 1978) p. 861.
105. See the color photograph in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, p. 3.
106. This is true of the Uropeltidae family, in which there are two
types, Cylin-rophiinae and Uropeltinae. See Bauchot, ed., Schlangen,
p. 36, also see the color photograph on that page.
107. See the color photographs in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, pp.
106–7; also see G. Matz, “Teratologie,” on the same pages.
108. Mattison reports that much of “the information” in his Snake is
“quite new, since snakes, being secretive, are among the most difficult
animals to study in their own habitat.” Snake, p. 6. There are many
unresolved controversies among herpetolo-gists; see, e.g., Zug et al.,
Herpetology, pp. 3–10.
 109. See the color photograph in Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, p. 107.
110. Translation mine; for text, see Coborn, The Atlas of Snakes, p.
14 (with accent restored).
111. I am grateful to J. A. Peters for this suggestion. See his
“Serpentes,” Micropae-dia, vol. 16, p. 559.
112. M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion (New York, 1958)
p. 164.
113. In The Sacred and Profane: The Nature of Religion, Eliade
contended that the “dragon is the … symbol of the cosmic waters, of
darkness, night, and death—in short, of the amorphous and virtual, of
everything that has not yet acquired a ‘form’ “ (trans. W. R. Trask; New
York, 1959) p. 48.
114. See Mattison, Snakes of the World, p. 9. On the widespread
legend of the combat myth between the serpent and the hero, see
Eliade’s comments in Cosmos and History: The Myth of the Eternal
Return (trans. W. R. Trask; New York, 1959) pp. 37–48.
115. K. Sälzle, Tier und Mensch, p. 477.
116. See, e.g., M. L. Sancassano, Il Serpente e le sue immagini: Il
motivo del serpente nella poesia greca dall’Iliade all’Orestea
(Biblioteca di Atenaeum 36; Como, 1997).

3. Realia and Iconography

1. O. Keel, Das Recht der Bilder gesehen zu werden (OBO 122;

Freiburg, Göttingen, 1992).
2. See the reflections on this thought by J. V. Taylor and E.
Robinson in the latter’s The Language of Mystery (London,
Philadelphia, 1987, 1989). Robinson points out, correctly, that there “is
indeed an almost complete separation between the world of religion
and the world of the contemporary arts” (p. 1). This judgment does not
apply to antiquity.
3. A. Margulies, The Empathic Imagination (New York, London,
1989) p. 107.
4. E. Panofsky, Studies in Iconology (Oxford, 1939; reprinted in
1972, Boulder, Colo.) p. 12.
5. See H. Müller-Karpe, Geschichte der Steinzeit (Augsburg, 1998)
Tables 1 –20; note the serpent images in Tables 14.4, 15.1, 21.3 and
18.
6. See M. Ruspoli, Die Höhlenmalerei von Lascaux: Auf den
Spuren des frühen Menschen, trans. M. Ruck-Vinson (Augsburg,
1998). The French edition appeared in 1986.
7. See S. Giedion, The Eternal Present: The Beginnings of Art
(New York, 1962) pp. 308–9.
8. B. Johnson, Lady of the Beasts (San Francisco, 1990) p. 122;
see the drawing of the serpent on p. 123.
9. P. Graziosi, Le pitture prehistoriche e della grotta di Porto
Badisco (Florence, 1980); see the drawing on p. 55. The drawings
“costruzioni con spiraliformi e serpentiformi,” p. 55.
10. See ibid., Tabella XVII; see esp. no. 22; there appear to be two
serpents in T. XVIII.
11. See the following selection: W. R. Cooper, “Observations on the
Serpent Myths of Ancient Egypt,” Journal of the Transactions of the
Victoria Institute (London) 6 (1873) 321–91; E. Amélineau, “Du rôle
des serpents dans les croyances religieuses de l’Egypte,” Revue de
l’histoire des religions 51 (1905) 335–60; also see vol. 52 (1905) 1–32;
L. Keimer, Histoires de serpents dans l’Egypte ancienne et moderne
(Cairo, 1947); R. T. R. Clark, Myth and Symbol in Ancient Egypt
(London, 1959). L. Stork, “Schlange,” in Lexikon der Ägyptologie (ed.
W. Helck and W. Westendorf. Wiesbaden, 1984) cols. 644–52. Also
see Pritchard, ANEP, esp. Figs. 12 –17, 265–69, 376–426.
12. See the following: A. Deimel, “Die Schlange bei den
Babyloniern,” Orientalia 14 (1924) 49–57; E. D. Van Buren, Symbols of
Gods in Mesopotamian Art (Rome, 1945). The Gilgamesh epic is
central to our search for the meaning of ophidian symbolism, but
written sources are not necessarily a reliable guide to iconography;
nevertheless, see N. K. Sanders, The Epic of Gilgamesh: An English
Version with an Introduction (Baltimore, 1960). See also Pritchard,
ANEP, esp. Figs. 18 –24, 25–30, 427–54, 502–41. We shall examine
the literary evidence of the symbolic meaning of serpents in later
chapters.
13. See the numerous entries in Lexicon Iconographicum
Mythologiae Classicae and the following: E. Küster, Die Schlange in
der griechischen Kunst und Religion (Religionsgeschichtliche
Versuche und Vorarbeiten 13.2; Giessen, 1913); L. Bodson, “Les grecs
et leurs serpents: Premiers résultats de l’étude taxonomique des
sources anciennes,” L’Antiquité Classique 50 (1981) 57–78; Bodson,
“Observations sur la vocabulaire de la zoologie antique: Les noms de
serpents en grec et en latin,” Documents pour l’histoire du vocabulaire
scientifique 8 (1986) 65–119.
14. See the many entries in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae and B. Andreae, L’art de l’ancienne Rome (Paris, 1973). For
additional bibliographical works, see the Selected Serpent
Bibliography.
15. See, however, the excellent work by O. Keel, “Polyvalenz der
Schlange,” Das Recht der Bilder gesehen zu werden (Freiburg,
Göttingen, 1992) pp. 195–267.
16. J. B. Pritchard, Palestinian Figurines in Relation to Certain
Goddesses Known Through Literature (New Haven, 1943) p. 27.
17. For a succinct description of many of the sites to be discussed
and photographs, see Charlesworth, The Millennium Guide for
Pilgrims to the Holy Land (North Richland Hills, Tex., 2000).
18. Abbreviations: PN (Pottery Neolithic Age), EB (Early Bronze),
MB (Middle Bronze), LB (Late Bronze).
19. O. Bar-Yosef, “Munhata,” OEANE 4.63–64.
20. See Y. Garfinkel, The Pottery Assemblages of the Sha’ar
Hagolan and Rabah Stages of Munhata (Israel) (Paris, 1992) p. 84 (a
description of each), Figs. 139:12 and 13 (a drawing of each).
21. For a photograph see ibid., Plate 13:5.
22. See the drawing ibid., p. 81 (No. 22).
23. See the photograph in Highlights of Archaeology: The Israel
Museum, Jerusalem, p. 43. A drawing (p. 76) and photograph (p. 77)
also appear in M. Avi-Yonah and Y. Yadin, eds., 6000 Years of Art in
the Holy Land (Jerusalem, 1986). Also see J. P. O’Neill et al., eds.,
The Treasures of the Holy Land: Ancient Art from the Israel Museum
(New York, 1986) pp. 100–102 (with a color photograph on p. 101).
24. Z. Yeivin, “A Silver Cup from Tomb 204a at ‘Ain-Samiya,” Israel
Exploration Journal 21 (1971) 78–81. Also see the drawing on p. 79,
Figs. 1 and 2.
25. Y. Yadin, “A Note on the Scenes Depicted on the ‘Ain-Samiya
Cup,” Israel Exploration Journal 21 (1971) 82–85; the quotation is on
p. 83.
 26. Of special interest is the serpent-dragon on the Ishtar Gate; see
E. Lutz-Ruoff, “Die Schlangendrachen am Istartor zu Babylon: Eine
motivgeschichtliche Untersuchung” (PhD diss., Tübingen, 1986). Also
see B. Renz, Der Orientalische Schlangen-drache (Augsburg, 1930).
For a color photograph, see Sälzle, Tier und Mensch, p. 43.
27. See the illustrations in J. Black and A. Green, Gods, Demons
and Symbols of Ancient Mesopotamia (London, 1992) pp. 64–65, 96–
97, 165, 166–68. The illustrations are by Tessa Rickards.
28. E. D. Van Buren, “The Dragon in Ancient Mesopotamia,”
Orientalia 15 (1946) 1–46 (with thirty-two illustrations); the quotations
are from p. 45.
29. See K. M. Kenyon, “Jericho,” NEAEHL 2.674–81; E. Netzer and
G. Foerster, NEAEHL 2.681–92, R. Hachlili, NEAEHL 2.693–95.
30. J. Garstang and J. B. E. Garstang, The Story of Jericho
(London, Edinburgh, 1948) Plate 3 (a rather poor photograph); see the
discussion on p. 102.
31. Garstang and Garstang, The Story of Jericho p. 102 (see Plate
3).
32. K. M. Kenyon, Excavations at Jericho: The Tombs Excavated in
1952–4 (Jerusalem, 1960) vol. 1, figure 162; also see the photography
on Plate 18:3.
33. I am grateful to Ross Voss for this information, shared with me
at the dig in Ashkelon.
34. I wish to express appreciation to Larry Steger and Ross Voss
for the permission and opportunity to examine and photograph this
ophidian iconography.
35. Note, e.g., an engraved mirror, from the third or second
centuries BCE, that depicts the crowning of Hercules by Victory,
behind whom are two serpents, with four curves, and three lines
coming out of each mouth. See the photograph in Encyclopedia
Photographique de l’Art, vol. 3, p. 112:B.
36. The lion in the third-century CE mosaic at Hammat Tiberias
also has three horizontal lines coming out of the area of his nostrils
and mouth; two others seem to be radiating from its chin.
37. See the photograph in E. Sellin, “Die Ausgrabung von Sichem,”
Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palästina-Vereins 50 (1927) 205–11; Plate
20:e. Also see Sellin’s comments on p. 207, and G. E. Wright,
Shechem: The Biography of a Biblical City (New York, 1965) p. 82.
38. F. M. Th. Böhl, “Die Sichem-Plakette: Protoalphabetische
Schriftzeichen der Mittelbronzezeit vom tell balata,” Zeitschrift des
Deutschen Palästina-Vereins 61 (1938) 1–25.
39. W. F. Albright, “The Bronze Age,” Annual of the ASOR 17
(1936–1937) 43; and J. B. Pritchard, Palestinian Figurines in Relation
to Certain Goddesses Known Through Literature, p. 27, no. 240.
Pritchard also pointed to the similarity between the Shechem plaque
and the Tell Beit Mirsim limestone relief.
40. W. F. Albright, Annual of the ASOR 17 (1936–1937) 43.
41. G. E. Wright, “The Second Campaign at Tell Balätah
(Shechem),” BASOR (1957) 11–28. The article by H. Thiersch (“Ein
altmediterraner Tempeltyp,” ZAW 50 [1932] 73–86, esp. 77) was
severely criticized by E. Sellin (“Der gegenwärtige Stand der
Ausgrabung von Sichem und ihre Zukunft,” ZAW [50] 303–8).
42. See D. P. Cole, Shechem I: The Middle Bronze IIB Pottery, ed.
J. F. Ross and E. F. Campbell (ASOR Excavation Reports; Winona
Lake, Ind., 1984) Plate 29:h and i.
43. G. Loud, Megiddo II: Seasons of 1935–39; Text (Chicago,
1948) p. 5 (“Chronological Table”). Also, the more recent and precise
dating is in line with Loud’s stratigraphy; see the discussion in Y.
Aharoni and Y. Shiloh, “Megiddo,” NEAEHL 3.1003–23, and esp. “The
Megiddo Stratification” on p. 1023. Stratum I now also runs from 600 to
350 BCE, but it is clarified that we have entered the Persian Period.
44. G. Loud, Megiddo II: Seasons of 1935–39; Plates (Chicago,
1948) Plate 240:1.
45. Loud, Megiddo II, Plates 22:11 and 26.
46. So also, Keel, Das Recht der Bilder, p. 198.
47. For a photograph of the tomb and the vessel in situ, see P. L.
O. Guy, Megiddo Tombs (Chicago, 1938) Fig. 107. Note that “looting
had evidently taken place in antiquity” (p. 88), and that the “bones in C
had been badly disturbed” (p. 89).
48. H. G. May, Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult (Chicago,
1935) Plate 22: P4327.
49. May, Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult, Plate 22: P3060,
3083, 3061.
 50. May opined that the “unplaced fragment (P1. XIV 4) has near
the pigeonhole a hatched mold or relief which may even be a snake
motive.” May, Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult, p. 14. This is
possible, but far from certain. The fragment is small. The hole is rather
rectangular. No remains of a serpent are visible, but an appliqued
piece of clay, perhaps a serpent, may have once lain near the hole.
Also see May’s comments on Rowe’s discoveries at Beth Shan, and
his interpretations and method of comparing Palestinian ophidian
objects with much earlier ones in Egypt. May too closely follows Rowe
(pp. 15, 21). Refreshing, however, are May’s comments about the
indigenous quality of ophidian artifacts found in ancient Palestine (p.
31).
51. R. S. Lamon, G. M. Shipton, Megiddo I: Seasons of 1925–34;
Strata I-IV (Chicago, 1939) Plate 87:7, 8, 9.
52. The picture in Lamon, Shipton, Megiddo I, Plate 87, is too
vague. It is not clear if the object is a serpent with eyes indicated.
53. These dates have been challenged. See Aharoni and Shiloh,
“Megiddo.” Note that IVA continues until the Assyrian conquest in 732
BCE (also see “The Megiddo Stratification” on p. 1023).
54. Lamon, Shipton, Megiddo I, Plates 69:24 (3 uraei with a fish),
69:47 (uraeus facing a Hyksos-figured man), 69:48 (uraeus), 69:52
(winged uraeus), 69:54 (four uraei, perhaps), 69:55 (a uraeus?), 69:59
(a lion before a uraeus), 69:69 (sphinx before a uraeus).
55. See, e.g., R. Giveon and T. Kertesz, Egyptian Scarabs and
Seals from Acco (Freiburg, 1986).
56. See the massive work published by O. Keel, Corpus der
Stemplelsiegel-Amulette aus Palästina/Israel, 2 vols. (Freiburg and
Göttingen, 1995 and 1997). See esp. the illustrations in vol. 1, p. 76,
and vol. 2, pp. 13, 15, 41, 75, 97, 111, 119, 121, 127, 131, 149, 153,
155, 159, 171, 175, 189, 197, 199, 205, 207, 211, 213, 235, 237, 239,
243, 245, 543, 547, 549, 553, 597, 607, 611, 623, 627, 629, 633, 635,
665, 675, 687, 703, 709, 715, 717, 721, 725, 729, 735, 743, 749, 751,
767, 771, 780, 789, and 790.
57. Guy, Megiddo Tombs, Plate 161:20. Item no. 21 may also be
the remains of a serpent-headed bracelet.
58. Guy, Megiddo Tombs, Plate 166:5.
59. J. G. Duncan, Digging Up Biblical History (London, 1931) vol. 2,
p. 72.
 60. See the drawing in R. A. S. Macalister, The Excavation of
Gezer (London, 1912) vol. 2, p. 399, Fig. 488.
61. Macalister, ibid., p. 399.
62. Macalister, The Excavation of Gezer (London, 1912) vol. 1, p.
96.
63. Macalister, The Excavation of Gezer, vol. 1, p. 98. See the
drawing in Macalister, The Excavation of Gezer, vol. 3 (London, 1912)
Plate 26:13. For a photograph of Cave 15 IV see vol. 1, p. 97.
64. W. G. Dever et al., Gezer IV: The 1969–71 Seasons in Field VI,
the “Acropolis” (Jerusalem, 1986) Part I, vol. 4, p. 43.
65. Dever et al., ibid., p. 45.
66. See the drawing in W. G. Dever et al., Gezer IV: The 1969–71
Seasons in Field VI, the “Acropolis” (Jerusalem, 1986) Part 2, vol. 4,
Plate 51:2. Also, see the photograph on Plate 116B.
67. See J. D. Seger, Gezer V: The Field I Caves, ed. J. D. Seger
and H. D. Lance (Jerusalem, 1988) vol. 5, Plate 69: A-E, H.
68. Seger, in Gezer V, vol. 5, pp. 77–78. For Cypriot ophidian
iconography in the Cyprus Museum, see the early and dated report in
J. L. Myres, A Catalogue of the Cyprus Museum (Oxford, 1899) pp.
43:91 (snake ornament, Bronze Age pottery [= Plate II:91]), 43:96–100
(snakes on Bronze Age pottery), 47:255 (snake ornament, Bronze Age
pottery [= Plate II:255A]), p. 73:1114 (Greek-Phoenician Pottery with
handles like serpents’ heads), p. 86:1683 (a satyr attempts to catch a
serpent), p. 110:3151 (Hercules and a serpent), p. 130:4259–64
(serpents’ heads), p. 135:4566 (scarab showing a figure holding two
serpents [= Plate 8:4566]), p. 176:100 (silver serpent-head bracelets),
p. 182:76 (two silver spirals ending in serpent heads).
69. A. M. Roveri, “Qadesh,” EAA 5 (1965) 583–84; the photograph
on p. 583 shows a nude Qadesh holding a serpent in her right hand
and standing on a lion.
70. Macalister, Excavation of Gezer, Vol. 3, Plate 221:9.
71. See ibid., Plate 221:10. Pritchard (Palestinian Figurines, p. 7,
No. 11) and Joines (JBL 87 [1968]) interpret the art work to denote
serpents. This is conceivable, but far from probable (let alone certain).
72. See A. Ben-Tor, “Hazor,” in OEANE 3:1–5.
73. For a photograph of the site, before and after excavation in
1957, see Yadin et al., eds., Hazor III-IV: Plates (Jerusalem, 1961)
Plate 121.
74. Y. Yadin et al., Hazor III-IV, Plate 339:5–6. Joines (JBL 87
[1968] 245 n. 4) reports that “Yadin informed me of their provenance in
a personal correspondence.” The data given are taken from Yadin et
al., ibid., Plate 339:5,6, but they are not exactly the ones she provides.
Only the provenance of 139:5 is specified. The assumption is that both
were found in the same locus.
75. See the drawings in Keel, Das Recht der Bilder, p. 233:178,
182. Also see the Babylonian black limestone deed of gift, also from c.
1200 BCE, and showing a serpent with a scorpion.
76. A. Ben-Tor, R. Bonfil, and A. Paris, Hazor V (Jerusalem, 1997)
p. 42 (Photo II.20), p. 44 (Fig. II.14: L.628 no. 33 [drawing]).
77. Yadin et al., Hazor III-IV, Plate 313:13; also see Plate 196:13
and the description on the facing page.
78. Yadin et al., ibid., Plate 313:11 (photograph). Serpents seem to
be applied to the MBII jug shown on Plate 239:20.
79. Yadin et al., Hazor III-IV: Text (Jerusalem, 1989) p. 223.
80. Yadin et al., Hazor III-IV, Plate 260:24 (drawing) and Plate
313:12 (photograph).
81. Yadin et al., Hazor II (Jerusalem, 1960) Plate 181. For another
photograph, see [Y. Yadin, ed.], Hazor: Excavation of a Biblical City
(London, 1958?) illus. 6. A photograph is also published in NEAEHL
2:596.
82. In Yadin et al., Hazor II, p. 117, it is reported that the “crescent
is also found on the central stele (Vol. I, Pl. XXIX) among the elements
of the deity symbols. The crescent on the bronze standard permits us
to suppose that the latter’s use was associated with the nearby Shrine,
the subject of whose cult (as noted in Vol. I) was the Moon-god.” See
the photograph in Pritchard, ANEPTS p. 352:834.
83. See the drawing by Tadmor and the discussion by Keel, Das
Recht der Bilder, p. 202 (discussion) and p. 239:203 (drawing). Also
see Keel and Uehlinger, Gods, Goddesses, and Images of God, pp.
66–67.
84. See the drawings in Keel, Das Recht der Bilder, pp. 239–45.
85. Yadin et al., Hazor II, p. 118.
 86. Yadin, “Further Light on Biblical Hazor: Results of the Second
Season, 1956,” Biblical Archaeologist, 20 (1957) 43.
87. Yadin, “The Fourth Season of Excavation at Hazor,” Biblical
Archaeologist, 22 (1959) 5–6.
88. See Yadin, Hazor III-IV, Plate 282 (drawing and description),
and 309 (photograph).
89. See C. F.-A. Schaeffer, Ugaritica II (Paris, 1949) Plate 30
(photograph).
90. See esp. A. Caquot and M. Sznycer, Ugaritic Religion (Leiden,
1980) Plate 14a (standing goddess with a serpent), Plate 15a (seated
goddess with serpents), and Plate 19b (the Ugaritic pendant of a
goddess with serpents). M. Pope is convinced that a limestone stela
from Ugarit contains not only a uraeus but also a serpent held in the
hand of El. See Pope, “The Scene on the Drinking Mug from Ugarit,” in
Near Eastern Studies in Honor of William Foxwell Albright, ed. H.
Goedicke (Baltimore, London, 1971) pp. 393–405.
91. See Yadin, Hazor III-IV, Plate 282:1 for drawing and description
and Plate 309 for a photograph. Also see Yadin, Hazor II, p. 109 for
more details regarding the discovery of the vessel in 1957.
92. See Yadin, Hazor II, p. 109 (description), Plate 123:4 (drawing),
and Plate 177:6 (photograph).
93. See B. Rothenberg, “Timna‘,” NEAEHL 4.1475–86; W. G.
Dever, “Timna‘,” OEANE 5.217–18; D. W. Manor, “Timna (Place),”
AYBD 6.553–56. Also see A. Negev, The Archaeological Encyclopedia
of the Holy Land (New York, 1986 [rev. ed.]), pp. 507–8. the works of
Benno Rothenberg are essential, such as Timna’: Valley of the Biblical
Copper Mines (London, 1972); with Paul Tylecote, Chalcolithic Copper
Smelting (London, 1978); The Egyptian Mining Temple at Timna
(London, 1988).
94. See the color photograph in Negev, The Archaeological
Encyclopedia of the Holy Land, p. 49. A wonderful color photograph is
found in J. M. Landay, Silent Cities, Sacred Stones: Archaeology
Discovery in the Land of the Bible (London, Jerusalem, 1971) p. 88.
Excellent color photographs are found in Rothenberg, Timna, Plate 19
(full view) and 20 (close-up of head).
95. Timna’ is not the site of copper mines belonging to King
Solomon. See J. D. Muhly, “Timna and King Solomon,” Bibliotheca
Orientalis 41 (1984) 276–92.
 96. B. Rothenberg, Were These King Solomon’s Mines?
Excavations in the Timna Valley (New York, 1972) p. 154. Also see
Rothenberg, The Egyptian Mining Temple. The gilded copper serpent
from Timna’ is shown in Plates 11 (full) and 12 (head close-up).
97. See Keel and Uehlinger, Gods, Goddesses, and Images of
God, p. 68. Also, see F. M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic
(Cambridge, Mass., 1997); for the relation between Hathor and “the
serpent lady” inscription, see pp. 19, 32, 34.
98. See the large color photograph in R. Schulz and M. Seidel,
eds., Ägypten: Die Welt der Pharaonen (Cologne, 1997) pp. 446–47.
99. For an aerial photograph of the tell, see NEAEHL, 1:214.
100. See the refined chronology intimated by A. Mazar in OEANE
1:305–09. Also see S. Geva, “A Reassessment of the Chronology of
Beth Shean Strata V and IV,” Israel Exploration Journal 29 (1979) 6–
10.
101. Numbers in parentheses denote plates in A. Rowe, The Four
Canaanite Temples at Beth-shan (Philadelphia, 1940).
102. The drawing in Rowe, ibid., on Plate 14:1 is misleading; see
the photographs on Plate 58A:1–2, and the drawing on 58A:3.
103. The color photograph in A. Negev, The Archaeological
Encyclopedia of the Holy Land, p. 249 is attractive, but it scarcely
indicates how fragmented is the cult stand.
104. A decent photograph of the restored cylindrical cult stand is
found in Pritchard, ANEP 585 (on p. 194).
105. The cylindrical stand is too fragmented to be certain; the
drawing may be misleading. Too often the reality is confused with an
artist’s recreation.
106. The photograph in OEANE 1:222 can be misleading; the cult
stand is very fragmented.
107. The placement of many fragments, especially numbers 16:5,
7, 8, 9, is unclear; that is, I cannot discern with which cylindrical cult
stand they should be connected.
108. Rowe, The Four Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan, p. 43.
109. It is difficult to follow Rowe’s publications and too easy to
criticize him. We should, however, understand that he excavated after
World War I, in the 1920s, and had difficulty working and publishing
during the Depression, finally seeing his work published in 1930 and
1940. He also used Egyptian chronology to identify his finds; this is
lamentable, but he worked before the agreement to use the ages of
technology and before the refinement of pottery chronology by Albright
and others. I am indebted to R. A. Mullins, the Albright Montgomery
Fellow for 1998–99, for discussions about some of these insights.
110. H. Th. Bossert, Altsyrien (Tübingen, 1951) p. 196:646.
111. Rowe, The Four Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan, p. 36.
112. See the references and insights in Rowe, The Four Canaanite
Temples of Beth-shan, pp. 50–51.
113. See also F. W. James, P. E. McGovern, and A. G. Bonn, The
Late Bronze Egyptian Garrison at Beth Shan, 2 vols. (Philadelphia,
1993) vol. 2, Plates 83:1–84:1.
114. See the drawing in James, McGovern, and Bonn, The Late
Bronze Egyptian Garrison at Beth Shan, vol. 2, 58:7 (see the
descriptions on plate 57 where the item is misidentified as Rowe, Plate
33:11 [uraeus is also misspelled]).
115. Also see the drawing in James, McGovern, and Bonn, The
Late Bronze Egyptian Garrison at Beth Shan, vol. 2, 60:1, 2. Each is
called a pendant and a uraeus. The photograph is in vol. 2, Plate 26:d
and e.
116. James and McGovern also suggest that this object is a cobra.
See their “Zoo-morphic Objects: Cobra Figurines (Figs. 83–85),” The
Late Bronze Egyptian Garrison at Beth Shan, vol. 1, pp. 171–72. Also
see “Cobra Figurines” on pp. 95–96 and “Cobra Figurines:
Construction Methods” in vol. 2, Fig. 3. They proved that the cobra
figures were hand formed, without a mold, with appliqués attached in
two main ways.
117. See the drawing in James, McGovern, and Bonn, The Late
Bronze Egyptian Garrison at Beth Shan, vol. 2, Plate 84:2, 85:2.
118. For photographs of this item and the following ones, which are
cobra figurines, see James, McGovern, and Bonn, The Late Bronze
Egyptian Garrison at Beth Shan, vol. 2, Plate 39.
119. Also see the photograph in A. Rowe, The Topography and
History of Beth-shan (Philadelphia, 1930) vol. 1, Plate 35:4 (facing
view) and 35:5 (side view). On this plate the pottery figurine is
identified as “a serpent goddess in the form of a uraeus, with breasts
and a cup below for the lacteal fluid.” It is a pity that this insightful
information was placed only here.
120. Rowe, ibid., p. 44, thought that the men were “gods(?)” and
they were “in fighting attitudes(?).” This is too speculative. The other
side of this cult stand seems to be shown in a photograph in Pritchard,
ANEP 590 (p. 195).
121. See the drawing of one in E. D. Oren, The Northern Cemetery
of Beth Shan (Leiden, 1973) Fig. 41:31.
122. Oren, ibid., Fig. 51:9; see the description on p. 97. For a
photograph of Tomb 27, see Plate 2:3 (the plates are not numbered
and no page numbers are provided).
123. Oren, ibid., Fig. 51:25; see the description on p. 127, no. 17.
For a photograph of the tomb see Plate 3:1 (see preceding note).
124. Rowe wrote, “our excavations have shown that the site was
the centre of a serpent cult in Palestine.” Rowe, Topography and
History of Beth-shan, p. 1, n.5.
125. N. H. Snaith, ed., Leviticus and Numbers (London and
Edinburgh, 1967) p. 279.
126. See Rowe, The Four Canaanite Temples at Beth-shan, Part I,
p. 45.
127. See the similar comments by G. M. Fitzgerald in D. W.
Thomas, ed., Archaeology and Old Testament Study (Oxford, 1967) p.
196.
128. See the photograph in Charlesworth, Millennium Guide, p. 79.
129. A good popular synthesis, with color photographs, is found in
J. C. H. Laugh-lin, “The Remarkable Discoveries at Tel Dan,” BAR 7
(1981) 20–37.
130. A. Biran, Biblical Dan (Jerusalem, 1994) p. 165; see the
photograph of the “snake” pithos in situ in Fig. 125, and assembled in
Fig. 126, and the drawing in Fig. 128.
131. Biran, “Dan,” NEAEHL 1.323–32; see esp. pp. 327–29.
132. Biran, Biblical Dan, p. 165.
133. Recall the Phoenician silver bowl from Palestrina in Italy. It
shows a large serpent surrounding and on the circumference of a
scene. The serpent is like Ouroboros. See the drawing in R. D.
Barnett, “Ezekiel and Tyre,” Eretz-Israel [Albright Volume] 9 (1969) 6–
13; p. 12, Fig. 1.
134. See the photograph of one in Biran, NEAEHL 1.327, and the
photographs of another in Biran, Biblical Dan, Fig. 126. For a drawing
of two of them, see ibid., Fig. 128.
135. Biran, Biblical Dan, p. 153.
136. See the drawing in Fig. 79 and the photography on Plate 30 in
C.F.-A. Schaeffer, Ugaritica II.
137. I have checked all of the following books: C. Warren, The
Recovery of Jerusalem (London, 1871); F. J. Bliss and A. C. Dickie,
Excavations at Jerusalem, 18941897 (London, 1889); S. Merrill,
Ancient Jerusalem (New York, London, 1908); G. Dalman, Jerusalem
und sein Gelände (Gütersloh, 1930); J. Simons, Jerusalem in the Old
Testament (Leiden, 1952); P. L.-H. Vincent and P. M.-A. Steve,
Jérusalem de l’Ancien Testament, 2 vols. (Paris, 1954); K. M. Kenyon,
Digging Up Jerusalem (London, 1974); B. Mazar, G. Cornfeld, and D.
N. Freedman, The Mountain of the Lord (Garden City, N.Y., 1975); W.
H. Mare, The Archaeology of the Jerusalem Area (Grand Rapids,
1987); H. Geva, ed., Ancient Jerusalem Revealed (Jerusalem, 1994);
F. E. Peters, Jerusalem (Princeton, 1997).
138. Vincent’s words, “serait pour le moment prématurée,”
concerned the Jebusite city and not serpent symbolism. See Vincent,
Jérusalem: Recherches de topographie, d’archéologie et d’histoire
(Paris, 1912) vol. 1, p. 161.
139. Mazar, Cornfeld, and Freedman, The Mountain of the Lord, p.
159.
140. In Hebrew, the Serpents’ Pool was most likely , but
the Aramaic is not so clear. See G. Dalman, Jerusalem und sein
Gelände (Gütersloh, 1930) p. 201.
141. C. Schick, “Recent Discoveries at the ‘Nicophorieh,’ “
Palestine Exploration Fund: Quarterly Statement (1892) 115–19 (he
announces the discovery of Herod’s Monument); and Schick, “Birket
es Sultan, Jerusalem,” PEFQS (1898) 224–29 (Nehe-miah’s Dragon
Well was at Birket es Sultan and the latter is Josephus’ Pool of the
Serpents). Also see Schick, “The Dragon Well,” PEFQS (1898) 230–
32 (the Dragon Pool of Nehemiah is not the Birket Mamilla but its
lower pool, the Birket es Sultan).
142. D. Bahat, The Illustrated Atlas of Jerusalem (Jerusalem, 1996)
pp. 35, 38, 39, and esp. p. 49.
 143. E. Netzer and S. Ben Arieh, “Opus Reticulatum Building in
Jerusalem,” IEJ 33 (1983) 163–71; also see E. Netzer, “Herod’s Family
Tomb in Jerusalem,” BAR 9 (1983) 52–59.
144. M. Broshi, “The Serpents’ Pool and Herod’s Monument—A
Reconsideration,” MAARAV 8 (1992) 213–22.
145. D. Bahat, “The Hasmonean Aqueduct Near the Temple
Mount,” Ariel 57–58 (1988) 132–42 (in Hebrew).
146. G. Bresc-Bautier, Le Cartulaire du chapitre du Saint-Sépulcre
de Jérusalem (Documents relatifs à l’histoire des croisades 15; Paris,
1984) 314–15. I am grateful to Broshi for this reference.
147. For a drawing of the monument, in a reconstructed state, see
Bahat, The Illustrated Atlas of Jerusalem, p. 50.
148. I am grateful to Broshi for discussing the Pool of the Serpents
with me.
149. For succinct accounts, see T. Dothan and S. Gitin, “Miqne, Tel
(Ekron),” NEAEHL 3.1051–59; T. Dothan and S. Gitin, “Miqne, Tel,”
OEANE 4.30–35.
150. I express appreciation to Noel Freedman for conversations on
this point.
151. S. Gitin, T. Dothan, and J. Naveh, “A Royal Dedication
Inscription from Tel Miqneh/Ekron,” Qadmoniot 3 (1997) 38–43 (in
Hebrew).
152. For a photograph of the altar, in its reconstructed stage but
without the serpent image visible, see Z. Herzog, “Tel Beersheba,”
NEAEHL 1.167–73; see photograph on p. 171. No comment is made
in this article about ophidian iconography.
153. Z. Herzog, “Beersheba,” OEANE 1.287–91; Herzog discusses
the horned altar at length but does not mention a serpent (p. 290).
154. Pritchard, ANEP, p. 107.
155. For photographs of the horned altar with the engraved
ophidian iconography, see Y. Aharoni, “The Horned Altar of Beer-
sheba,” Biblical Archaeologist 37.1 (1974) 2–6, Fig. 2 (a good close-
up) and H. Shanks, “Horned Altar for Sacrifice Unearthed at Beer-
Sheva,” BAR 1.1. (1975) 1, 8–9, 15; see p. 8 (a photograph of the altar
reassembled). For a photograph of the altar in secondary use in a wall
of a storehouse, see Aharoni, Fig. 3. It is clear that the serpent image
is to be dated to the time of the construction of the altar and not to
some decoration applied later in the storehouse. I cannot see the
image of the serpent in the walls of the house; perhaps the image was
turned inward from the eyes of those working in the storehouse.
156. Aharoni, “The Horned Altar of Beer-sheba,” 4.
157. Keel, Das Recht der Bilder, p. 198.
158. Aharoni, “The Horned Altar of Beer-sheba,” 6.
159. See A. Kloner, Mareshah (Jerusalem, 1996 [in Hebrew]); the
centerfold has the photograph.
160. See the photograph in EAA 5 (1965) 674.
161. See O. Bar-Yosef, “Carmel Caves,” OEANE 1.424–28. See E.
C. M. Van den Brink, “An Index to Chalcolithic Mortuary Caves in
Israel,” IE] 48 (1998) 164–73.
162. Tacitus, Histories 2.78. An inscription found on Mount Carmel
proves that there was a cult of Zeus Heliopolitanus there.
163. See “Venere di Milo,” EDAA, Supplemento, 1970, pp. 895–98.
164. Aphrodite appeared clothed in a clinging gown on the
Parthenon; see L. Kreuz, Begegnungen mit Aphrodite: Eine
psychologische Studie zur Genetik des Schönen (Stuttgart, 1966); see
esp. the photographs of Aphrodite and Peitho (p. 259) and also of
Aphrodite and Eros (p. 260) who were on the Parthenon. Aphrodite is
shown in a clinging gown with right breast exposed on a statue in the
Louvre (see p. 270).
165. See the photographs in L. Kreuz, Begegnungen mit Aphrodite,
p. 275. In this statue Aphrodite has her weight on her right foot, and
her right hand is shown above her privates. For other depictions of
Aphrodite nude, see Aphrodite Crouching (p. 296), Aphrodite Bathing
and in a Crouch (p. 297), Aphrodite of Kyrene (p. 301), and Aphrodite
of Delos (p. 302). The depiction of Aphrodite with a garment only over
her lower body, that is, Venus de Milo, is shown in the photograph on
p. 299. Nike of Samothrace is shown in a full flowing garment (see p.
308).
166. Iliffe, “A Nude Terra-cotta Statuette of Aphrodite,” The
Quarterly of the Department of Antiquities in Palestine 3 (1934) 106.
167. We cannot be certain of the dates of Praxiteles’ life. For a
learned discussion, see R. Stupperich, “Praxiteles,” in Grosse
Gestalten der Griechischen Antike (Munich, 1999) pp. 287–95.
 168. I. Pomerantz, ed., Highlights of Archaeology: The Israel
Museum,]erusalem (Jerusalem, 1984) p. 94; also see the color
photograph on p. 95. A beautiful color photograph is also found in Avi-
Yonah and Yadin, eds., 6000 Years of Art in the Holy Land, p. 180. I
am grateful to the Israel Museum for permission to publish the present
photograph.
169. J. H. Iliffe, “A Nude Terra-cotta Statuette of Aphrodite,” pp.
106–11, with Plates 32 and 33 (the photographs show the many joins
of the fragments).
170. P. Diel, Symbolism in Greek Mythology: Human Desire and Its
Transformations (Boulder, London, 1980); Diel, Symbolism in the
Bible: The Universality of Symbolic Language and Its Psychological
Significance, trans. N. Marans (San Francisco, 1986).
171. Long ago W. F. Albright rightly warned against such
anachronistic interpretations. See his “The Bronze Age,’ II of the
Excavations of Tell Beit Mirsim,” Annual of the American Schools of
Oriental Research 17 (1936–37) 43.
172. See esp. E. Ghazal, Schlangenkult und Tempelliebe: Sakrale
Erotik in archaischen Gesellschaften (Berlin, 1995). The illustrations
are enlightening.
173. The Carmel Aphrodite is also similar to the Aphrodite with
Eros found in Egypt and dated to the first century BCE or first century
CE. See the color photograph in J. M. Eisenberg, Art of the Ancient
World (New York, 1985) vol. 4, p. 100, no. 282 (cf. the Roman
Aphrodite in no. 281—but neither of these bronze statuettes is
accompanied by serpents).
174. See N. Asgari et al., The Anatolian Civilisations II (Istanbul,
1983) B187 (color photograph), p. 89 (photograph with description).
175. This Aphrodite belonged to Dr. Elie Borowski and was part of
the Athos Moretti Collection. It was offered for sale in 2000. For a
photograph, see Christie’s New York (Tuesday 13 June 2000) pp. 58–
59. She is also featured on the front and back covers.
176. See Kreuz, Begegnungen mit Aphrodite. The focus is on the
depiction of Aphrodite in Greek art from circa 660 BCE to 335 BCE.
The aesthetic and beautiful are contemplated. Kreuz’s approach is via
psychology.
177. See esp. A. Gardiner, Egyptian Grammar (Oxford, London,
1957 [3rd ed.], reprinted many times) p. 27.
 178. See the beautiful color photographs in K. Michalowski, L’Art
de l’ancien Egypte (Paris, 1968) esp. Illus. 14, 42, 106, 107, 385, 386,
391, 392, 504, and 581.
179. E. A. W. Budge, “Snake-worship,” in Osiris and the Egyptian
Resurrection, 2 vols. (London, New York, n.d. [1911]) vol. 2, pp. 236–
38; the quotation is on p. 236. Budge points out that in the Book of the
Dead, chap. 108, the serpent Ami-hemf was 30 cubits long and that
the Papyrus Golénischeff refers to a serpent that was not only 30 feet
long but had a beard 2 cubits long.
180. The two images are taken from a painting on papyrus by the
Egyptian artist Monsef and an iron serpent.
181. See the Egyptian cobra (S. 408) with the “crown” (Vitrine 6,
no. 6) and consult A. Schweitzer and C. Traunecher, Strasbourg:
Musée archéologique (Paris, 1998) p. 27 (no. 6).
182. J. Y. Empereur, Alexandria Rediscovered (London, New York,
1998) p. 156. The work was translated from the French by M. Maehler.
183. See the close-up photograph in Empereur, Alexandria
Rediscovered, p. 160.
184. Note esp. A. Rixens’ “The Death of Cleopatra,” which is in the
Musée des Augustins in Toulouse; the seventeenth-century red chalk
drawing of Cleopatra by Giovanni Francesco Barbieri in the British
Museum (PD 1895–9–15–709); and the bronze statue of Cleopatra (c.
1636), with a serpent biting her breast, in the Royal Collection in
Hampton Court Palace, London (no. 39714). See E. Law, The History
of Hampton Court Palace II (London, 1888) p. 302. Note also the
miniature in the vellum manuscript of G. Boccaccio, De casibus
illustrium virorum et feminarum (BM Royal MS 14 E.V., folio 348v); it
depicts Cleopatra with her reddish gown pulled to the waist and
holding two asps, one before each breast.
185. See G. Neret, Michelangelo 1475–1564 (Cologne, London,
New York, 1998) p. 81.
186. See S. Walker and P. Higgs, eds., Cleopatra of Egypt: From
History to Myth (London, Princeton, 2001).
187. As quoted by E. Flamarion in her Cleopatra: The Life and
Death of a Pharaoh, trans. A. Bonfante-Warren (New York, 1997) p. 3.
188. See the handy translation in Penguin Books: Suetonius, The
Twelve Caesars, trans. R. Graves, rev. M. Grant (London, 1989) pp.
62–63.
189. A. Wallace-Hadrill in The Cambridge Ancient History, ed. A. K.
Bowman, E. Champlin, and A. Lintott (Cambridge, 1996) vol. 10, p.
284.
190. The entirely nude Esquiline Venus in the Capitoline Museum
in Rome (inv. 1141) has a serpent in relief beside her right leg.
191. H. B. Walters, Catalogue of the Engraved Gems and Cameos,
Greek, Etruscan and Roman, in the British Museum (London, 1926)
catalogue number 3085.
192. It is in the Charlesworth collection.
193. For literature and comments, see R. Stichel, Die Namen
Noes, seines Bruders und seiner Frau (AAWG 112; Göttingen, 1979)
p. 108, note 441.
194. See H. A. Kelly, “The Metamorphoses of the Eden Serpent
During the Middle Ages and Renaissance,” Viator 2 (1971) 301–28.
195. It is on public view in the Herakleion Museum; for a good
picture, see
196. C. P. Christ, Odyssey with the Goddess: A Spiritual Quest in
Crete (New York, 1995) p. ii. See S. Alexiou, Minoische Kultur:
Sternstunden der Archäologie, translated by W. Liebich (Frankfurt,
Göttingen, 1976) (also see the Greek original of 1964 or English
translation of 1969); see esp. Fig. 12 (the snake goddess), p. 113 (gold
amulet with serpent), and p. 119 (the serpents on a vessel). I studied
the serpents on ancient vessels or of gold at Chania’s Archaeological
Museum. Some are very impressive, adding to the vast evidence for
the appreciation of serpents on ancient Crete.
197. See J. Schäfer, “The Role of ‘Gardens’ in Minoan Civilization
(Plates XIV-XVII),” in The Civilizations of the Aegean and Their
Diffusion in Cyprus and the Eastern Mediterranean Around 2000–1600
BC, ed. V. Karageorghis (Larnaca, 1989) pp. 85–88.
198. The serpent goddesses were found in the Knossos palace.
For illustrations of two of them (the third is fragmented), and for an
insightful discussion, see L. Goodison and C. Morris, “Beyond the
‘Great Mother,’ “ in Ancient Goddesses, pp. 112–32. Also see the
snake goddess from Knossos holding two aroused cobras with
tongues extended; the serpents are wound around each arm. See the
photograph in R. D. Barnett, Ancient Ivories in the Middle East
(Jerusalem, 1982) Plate 28:a and b.
199. At least fourteen alleged Minoan goddesses are claimed to be
forgeries. See K. D. S. Lapatin, “Snake Goddesses, Fake Goddesses,”
Archaeology (January/ February 2001) 33–36.
200. The chronology for Crete used by me is not that of Sir Arthur
Evans. It is the revised one developed by N. Platon. See S. Alexiou,
Minoan Civilization, trans. C. Ridley (Herakleion, n.d. but 6th rev. ed.)
pp. 7–9. Stylianos Alexiou is a professor at the University of Crete.
201. See the color photograph in Higgins, Minoan and Mycenaean
Art (London, 1997), Illustration no. 202. Another impressive color
photograph appears in F. Durando, Griechenland, trans. D. Krumbach
(Erlangen, [1997?]) p. 23.
202. The day I spent in Knossos a gentle rain fell on the ruins, but
the setting was serene.
203. A. Kanta, Phaistos, Hagia Triadha, Gortyn, p. 28 (in full color).
204. See L. Nixon, “Changing Views of Minoan Society,” in Minoan
Society: Proceedings of the Cambridge Colloquium, 1981, ed. O.
Krzyszkowska and L. Nixon (Bristol, 1983).
205. R. Castleden, Minoans: Life in Bronze Age Crete (London,
New York, 1993) p. 161.
206. See the color photograph in A. Sp. Vassilakis, Crete, trans. W.
W. Phelps (Athens, n.d. [1995?]) p. 169.
207. A. Kanta, Phaistos, Hagia Triadha, Gortyn (Athens, 1998) p.
115.
208. See esp. the gold ring from Mykenai; see the drawing in
Schachermeyr, Die minoische Kultur des alten Kreta (Stuttgart, 1964)
p. 147.
209. Castleden, Minoans, p. 161.
210. Alexiou, Minoan Civilization, p. 44.
211. See J. Hawkes, Dawn of the Gods (London, 1968).
212. Alexiou, Minoan Civilization, pp. 30–31.
213. See Alexiou, Minoan Civilization, pp. 30–31, 50, and
Castleden, Minoans, p. 30.
214. See Alexiou, Minoan Civilization, p. 50.
 215. The Bronze Age (c. 1400–1200 BCE) came to a surprising
end around the twelfth century BCE. It is possible that earthquakes
contributed to this disaster. For a popular and succinct study, see W.
H. Stiebing, “When Civilization Collapsed: Death of the Bronze Age,”
Archaeology Odyssey (September/October 2001) 16–26, 62 (see the
bibliographical information on this page). A. Nur and E. H. Cline are
convinced that earthquakes did cause the end of the Bronze Age; see
their “What Triggered the Collapse? Earthquake Storms,” Archaeology
Odyssey (September/October 2001) 3036, 62–63 (a mine of
bibliographical references to ancient earthquakes).
216. This scenario is well accepted; see, e.g., R. Higgins, Minoan
and Mycenaean Art (London, 1997 [new rev. ed.]) pp. 17–18.
217. Schachermeyr writes, “Bei den Schlangen handelte es sich
um das chthonische Begleittier der grossen Erdgöttin.” Die minoische
Kultur des alten Kreta, p. 154.
218. See B. Röder, J. Hummel, and B. Kunz,
Göttinnendämmerung: Das Matriarchat aus archäologischer Sicht
(Munich, 1996) esp. see pp. 299–345.
219. Tablet Gg 702; see Castleden, Minoans, p. 125.
220. See the color photograph in Vasilakis, Herakleion
Archaeological Museum (Athens, n.d. [1998?]) p. 81.
221. See the ivory seal in the form of a dove with her two nestlings
in Alexiou, Minoan Civilization, p. 222 (also the doves above the
double axes, p. 104; see p. 109); also see Castleden, Minoans, p. 125.
222. See Higgins, Minoan and Mycenaean Art, p. 32.
223. As quoted by Christ in Odyssey with the Goddess, p. 73.
224. A. Michailidou, Knossos, trans. A. Doumas and T. Cullen
(Athens, 1998) p. 124. Michailidou is the archaeologist who has
recently excavated at Knossos.
225. See Vasilakis, Herakleion Archaeological Museum; for the
gold ring with dancing bare-breasted women, see p. 117; the gold
amulet is on p. 129.
226. There is a poisonous snake in the zoo at Herakleion, but it is a
sand viper (vipera ammodytes) and comes from northern Greece. I am
grateful to Mr. Liberakis, the herpetologist, for discussions on the
snakes on Crete.
227. Both vessels were purchased by Charlesworth in 2002 from
antiquities dealers in Jerusalem. They apparently come from
Jerusalem, or more likely from Jericho or its environs.
228. I am grateful to the Cousins Family Foundation for permission
to publish these Canaanite bowls.
229. F. R. Matson, “Potters and Pottery in the Ancient Near East,”
Civilizations of the Ancient Near East, ed. J. M. Sasson et al.
(Peabody, Mass., 1995) p. 1553.
230. Sample 914A2. Date: 5/3/01. At Daybreak, Guilford, CT.
231. Sample 914A1. Date: 4/01. At Daybreak, Guilford, CT.
232. An excellent example has just been found in Ashkelon. I
examined it, thanks to Ross Voss.
233. The cult standard is dated to the fourteenth-thirteenth cent.
BCE; see the discussion and picture in Y. Yadin’s “Hazor,” NEAEHL,
2.593–603; esp. see p. 596. A color photograph of the cult stand
appears in Yadin’s popular Hazor: The Rediscovery of a Great Citadel
of the Bible (London, New York, 1975) p. 54.
234. For a focused introduction to ancient pottery, see Matson,
“Potters and Pottery in the Ancient Near East,” pp. 1553–65.
235. See the helpful survey by W. G. Dever, “Ceramic
Ethnoarchaeology,” in OEANE, 1.448–65.
236. Mycenaean imports, including a highly sophisticated painted
Mycenaean krater, have been found at Dan, from the Late Bronze Age
(c. fourteenth-thirteenth cent.); see the color photographs in
Celebrating Avraham: Avraham Biran—The Excavator of Dan at 90
(Washington, D.C., 1999) esp. pp. 37, 49, 81. As with the two
Canaanite vessels that seem to antedate the entry of Joshua and the
Israelites into Palestine, so this Mycenaean krater antedates the
conquest of Dan by the Israelites (Josh 19:47; Jud 18:29). They
witness to the final heyday of Canaanite pottery.
237. While the two vessels now introduced generally contrast to the
Cypro-Phoenician juglets, No. 2 is reminiscent of one of these types
found at Horvat Rosh Zayit. See esp. the far-right jar shown in
NEAEHL, 4.1291. It is necessary to point out, again, that while debate
has continued over the time when Greek influence entered Palestine
after the Exile, it is certain that such influence did not begin with
Alexander the Great; as M. Hengel states, “Die Begegnung zwischen
Hellas und dem alten Orient begann durchaus nicht erst mit dem
Alexanderzug, sie hat eine sehr vielseitige Geschichte, die bis weit in
das 2. Jahrtausend, in die mykenische Zeit, zurückreicht.” Hengel,
Judaica et Hellenistica: Kleine Schriften I (Tübingen, 1996) p. 153.
238. See esp. the photograph in B. Mazar, Biblical Israel: State and
People, ed. S. Ahituv (Jerusalem, 1992) pp. 29–30.
239. See T. Ornan, A Man and His Land: Highlights from the Moshe
Dayan Collection (Jerusalem, 1986) pp. 86–87.
240. See K. M. Kenyon and T. A. Holland, Excavations at Jericho:
Volume Four—The Pottery Type Series and Other Finds (London,
1982) Fig. 177, esp. no. 12.
241. Kenyon and Holland, ibid., Fig. 180.
242. K. M. Kenyon, Excavations at Jericho: Volume Two—The
Tombs Excavated in 1955–8 (London, 1965) p. 1.
243. See Yadin’s suggestion, as reported by V. Goodside in “Why
Is a Bilbil Called a Bilbil?,” BAR 14 (1988) 60; and Queries and
Comments in BAR 15 (1988) 10.
244. Goodside reports Seger’s suggestion; BAR 14 (1988) 60.
245. See B. M. Gittlen, “The Cultural and Chronological
Implications of the Cypro-Palestinian Trade During the Late Bronze
Age,” BASOR 241 (1981) 49–59 and C. J. Bergoffen, “Overland Trade
in Northern Sinai: The Evidence of the Late Cypriot Pottery,” BASOR
284 (1991) 59–76.
246. E.g., A. Biran, Biblical Dan, esp. see illustrations 76 (p. 110),
82 (esp. no 3, Cypriote Bibil and no. 4 “local imitation bilbil”). The two
vessels in my “Announcing the Discovery of Canaanite Ophidian
Vessels” have much thicker and rounded bodies. Thus, there is no
juglet impressively similar to the ones now published.
247. See Dever in OEANE, 1.445.
248. See A. Mazar, “The ‘Bull Site’—An Iron Age I Open Cult
Place,” BASOR, 247 (1982) 27–42. An attractive photograph appears
in J. P. O’Neill et al., eds., Treasures of the Holy Land: Ancient Art from
the Israel Museum (New York, 1986)) p. 153.
249. See the drawings of the bronze bull and the discussion in A.
Mazar, “Bronze Bull Found in Israelite ‘High Place from the Time of the
Judges,” in Early Israel, ed. H. Shanks and D. P. Cole (Washington,
D.C., 1990) pp. 108–14. These reflections are preliminary; experts on
early art and ceramics will certainly help refine my original
speculations.
250. Here, among all the fights between the minimalists and
maximalists, I follow B. Mazar; see esp. his succinct review of this
history in “The Philistines,” Biblical Israel: State and People, pp. 22–
40.
251. I am grateful to the Israel Museum for permission to publish
this work. See “Snake Jug,” in Highlights of Archaeology: The Israel
Museum, Jerusalem, p. 42.
252. Pliny the Younger, to Tacitus; Book 6.20. An authoritative and
popular work on Pompeii is the following: R. Brilliant, Pompeii—AD 79:
The Treasure of Rediscovery (New York, 1979). The work is an official
publication of the American Museum of Natural History. For a gold
anguine armband, see p. 72. I have quoted Pliny from this book; see p.
22.
253. Published by permission of the Museo Archeologico
Nazionale di Napoli and with the assistance of Dr. Marcello Del Verme.
See L. Breglia, Catalogo delle oreficerie del Museo Nazionale di
Napoli (Rome, 1941) and R. Siviero, Gli ori e le ambre del Museo
Nazionale di Napoli (Florence, 1954).
254. See J. J. Deiss, Herculaneum: Italy’s Buried Treasure (Malibu,
1989 [rev. ed.]) p. 153.
255. A. S. Walker, Animals in Ancient Art: From the Leo Mildenberg
Collection: Part 2 (Mainz, 1996) pp. 18–19.
256. Also see G. Zahlhaas, Aus Noahs Arche: Tierbilder des
Sammlung Mildenberg aus fünf Jahrtausenden (Mainz, 1996); see
esp. pp. 33–35, “Die Schlange.”
257. See the earlier discussion of the gold bracelets preserved in
the State Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg.
258. Charlesworth purchased them from antiquities dealers in the
Old City of Jerusalem.
259. See the photograph in Deiss, Herculaneum, p. 89.
260. This object also belongs to the Charlesworth collection.
261. While not dating from 100 BCE to 100 CE, the Collection
Stathatos in the Archaeological Museum in Athens houses some very
attractive gold serpent jewelry. Of note are the following: two gold
snake bracelets from the third cent. BCE or early second cent. BCE
[they boast red semiprecious stones]; seven gold snake armbands of
the same period; a gold serpent ring from the fourth cent BCE with two
red semiprecious gems near the first curve and one near the tail.
Stathatos was a private collector who gave her collection to the Athens
museum.
262. The Hermitage and the BM, as well as other museums,
feature earlier examples of ornate very advanced and expensive gold
serpent jewelry; see Greek Gold, pp. 114, 210 (in Russian).
263. See the picture in the present book.
264. See the color photograph in A. M. Liberati and F. Bourbon,
Rom: Weltreich der Antike (Erlangen, 1997) p. 91 (right).
265. Published and discussed earlier in this book.
266. See the color photograph in Liberati and Bourbon, Rom:
Weltreich der Antike, p. 91 (left).
267. I know only about the photograph in A. Böhme-Schönberger,
Kleidung und Schmuch in Rom und den Provinzen (Stuttgart, 1997) p.
58 (Abb. 46).
268. A gold piece of jewelry from an unknown site from the fifth or
fourth cent. BCE depicts a wolf struggling with a large snake. See
Busch, Gold der Skythen, p. 88.
269. See the discussion and photograph of a third-century CE
example in Highlights of Archaeology: The Israel Museum, Jerusalem,
pp. 116–17.
270. See the examples of “snake thread vessels” in Y. Israeli, The
Wonders of Ancient Glass at the Israel Museum, Jerusalem
(Jerusalem, 1998) p. 41.
271. The technique of decorating glass with snake-thread designs
reached its apogee of sophistication at Cologne by the end of the
second century CE; we know that glassmakers migrated from the
eastern Mediterranean to Cologne in the second century CE. See C.
W. Clairmont, “Snake-Thread,” The Glass Vessels (The Excavations at
Dura-Europos, Final Report, Part 5; New Haven, 1963) pp. 42–46; D.
B. Harden, “Snake-thread Glasses Found in the East,” JRS 24 (1934)
50–55; F. Fremersdorf, “Die Henkelkanne von Cortil-Noirmont im
Brusseler Museum, eine Kolnische Arbeit,” LAntiquité Classique 7
(1938) 201–14. Also, see the publication cited by Clairmont, esp. on
pp. xix-xx. For photographs of snake-thread glassware, see Clairmont,
Plates 22:162, 163, 164, 165, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174,
175, 176, 177.
272. See Clairmont, The Glass Vessels, pp. 44–46 (discussions)
and Plates 22 and 23.
273. See the photography in Highlights of Archaeology: The Israel
Museum, Jerusalem, p. 117.
274. The presentation by Clairmont needs to be updated and
corrected.
275. This is a very old symbol that considerably antedates its use
by the Greeks for Hermes and the Romans for Mercury; for example,
see the two serpents facing each other and standing on the Gudea
vase that dates from about 2100 BCE, in Pritchard ANEP 511. The
caduceus in the eleventh-century BCE limestone Neo-Punic votive
stele shows the serpents facing in opposite directions; see the
photograph in Encyclopédie Photographique de l’Art, vol. 2, p. 134.
276. Jalame is also called Jalamet el-Asafna and Khirbet el Asafnh.
277. See G. D. Weinberg, Excavations at Jalame: Site of a Glass
Factory in Late Roman Palestine (Columbia, 1988) pp. 81
(descriptions of 351 and 352), 330 (photographs of 351 and 352).
278. See Clairmont, “Pinched,” The Glass Vessels, pp. 46–54; see
Plates 5:180, 181, 185, 193, 194; 23:179, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190,
191, 195, 198.
279. See, e.g., the heroic votive bas-relief found at Piraeus and
dating from the third century BCE (a serpent is shown below the hero).
See M. Rostovtzeff, The Social and Economic History of the Hellenistic
World (Oxford, 1941) vol. 1, Plate 21:1. Also, see the serpent bracelet
in Plate 45:2.
280. I am indebted to the excellent reflections presented by P. de
Montebello and E. J. Milleker in The Year One: Art of the Ancient
World—East and West (New York, 2000) see esp. pp. vii, 62–67.
281. It is found in the Charlesworth collection and was purchased
in Jerusalem.
282. For a convenient glossary and drawings of glass shapes and
types, see N. Kunina, Ancient Glass in the Hermitage Collection (St.
Petersburg, 1997) pp. 341–47.
283. An example of glass tableware is found in the Israel Museum.
See the picture in Y. Israeli, The Wonders of Ancient Glass at the
Israel Museum, p. 39. The example in the Israel Museum has only a
thin snake-thread around the neck.
284. Note, e.g., how different it is from the examples shown in
Kunina, Ancient Glass, pp. 221–24.
285. The example in the Israel Museum has only “trails applied in
undulating, snake-like lines that are called ‘snake thread vessels.’ “ No
head, eye, or skin is depicted as in our example. See Israeli, The
Wonders of Ancient Glass at the Israel Museum, p. 40 (discussion)
and p. 41 (color photograph).
286. I am most grateful to Father Hermann Konings, curator of
Saint Anne’s Museum in Bethesda (Bethzatha), for allowing me to
publish the ophidian objects found at Bethesda, and for discussing
with me the evidence of an Asklepieion at Bethesda. We even
obtained ladders and workmen to explore a significant cave or cistern
in which a magnificent pillar and two arches were erected during the
Hasmonean Period.
287. Since I did not excavate the site and no excavation reports
were available to me, the present report is as precise as presently
possible. I have profited from conversations with Dr. S. Gibson and
Father Konings and am grateful to them for their suggestions and
insights. I was able to examine the artifacts in the museum at Saint
Anne’s Church.
288. It seems that the two pools, especially the southern one, were
shaped like trap-ezoids.
289. C. Clermont-Ganneau, “The Jerusalem Researches,” PEF
(1874) 261–80; see esp. pp. 264–69.
290. I am grateful to S. Gibson for drawing my attention to this
anguine vase.
291. This was also the judgment of Clermont-Ganneau, PEF
(1874) 268.
292. Clermont-Ganneau, PEF (1874) 264.
293. Can we be certain that Hermes and not also Asclepius were
intended? Asclepius was sometimes shown holding the pine cone; see
Pausanias, Descriptio Graeciae 2.10.3. The Greek and English are
conveniently collected in E. J. Edelstein and L. Edelstein, Asclepius:
Collection and Interpretation of the Testimonies, 2 vols. (Baltimore,
1998) p. 351. Also, see the comments in vol. 2, p. 226.
294. Clermont-Ganneau, PEF (1874) 2 65–66.
 295. Clermont-Ganneau, ibid., p. 266.
296. Clermont-Ganneau, ibid., p. 267.
297. Clermont-Ganneau thought the vase was for water (p. 267).
This is impossible, but I would think that it was designed for wine that
was often mixed with water for drinking.
298. See the short description and photograph in S. Gibson,
“Officers and Gentlemen,” Eretz 52 (1997) 19–25; see esp. p. 24.
299. Wine mixed with water was served at banquets by means of
an elegant ladle, called a simpulum or a cyathus.
300. Clermont-Ganneau, PEF (1874) 2 67.
301. For the Latin text and English translation, see Edelstein and
Edelstein, Asclepius, pp. 361–62.
302. Artemidorus, Onirocritica 2.13; for the Greek and English, see
Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, p. 367.
303. Festus, De Verborum Significatu 67 M; for the Latin and
English, see Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, p. 366.
304. Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, p. 229 (I added italics for
clarity and emphasis).
305. Clermont-Ganneau, PEF (1874) 264. The photographs of the
Bezatha Vase did not appear in this volume nor the next one of the
PEF, Quarterly Statement. For further reflections by Clermont-
Ganneau on ophidian iconography, see his “Les cerfs mangeurs de
serpents,” Recueil d’archéologie orientale (Paris, 1901) vol. 4, pp.
31922; cf. p. 90.
306. See esp. Z. Amar, “The Metamorphosis of Holy Sites for
Healing Purposes in Jerusalem,” Judea and Samaria Research
Studies: Proceedings of the Seventh Annual Meeting 1997, ed. Y.
Eshel (Kedumim-Ariel, 1997) pp. 207–22 (Hebrew).
307. Asclepius appears with a chiton and wearing shoes, while the
gods are depicted nude. See the draped Hygieia, e.g., in LIMC, vol.
5.2, pp. 380–95. Also see the discussions and illustrations in the
present book, in the chapter on Greek and Latin texts.
308. See the painting in LIMC, vol. V.2, pp. 380, 382:18.
309. See the coin showing Hygieia in LIMC, vol. V.2, p. 382:19.
310. See the sculpture shown in LIMC, vol. V.2, p. 395:3.
 311. See the female figure shown prominently in Gibson, ErIsr 52
(1997) 24.
312. Eusebius, Praeparatio Evangelica, 3.11.26: “A symbol is
Asclepius to whom they attribute a staff, as a sign of support and relief
for invalids.” See the Greek text and English translation in Edelstein
and Edelstein, Asclepius, p. 369.
313. See Cornutus, Theologiae Graecae Compendium, Cp. 33
(“The serpent is a sign of attention … The staff also seems to be a
symbol of some similar thing”); see the Greek text and English
translation collected by Edelstein and Edelstein in Asclepius, p. 368.
314. Metam. 15.654–59 (hunc modo serpentem, baculum qui
nexibus ambit, per-spice). See the Latin text and English translation
excerpted in Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, p. 361.
315. Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, p. 218.
316. Clermont-Ganneau, PEF (1874) 2 6 8–69.
317. The vase was given the number 11 for 1874. It is merely an
insignificant item in a list published by Clermont-Ganneau in his thick
Archaeological Researches in Palestine During the Years 1873–1874
(London, 1896) vol. 2, p. 484. For Clermont-Ganneau’s comments on
Bethesda, see Recueil (Paris, 1906) vol. 7, pp. 369–70.
318. I am grateful to Dr. R. Chapman III and Dr. F. Cobbing for
helping me examine this unique work. I am also appreciative to
trustees of the Palestine Exploration Fund in London for permission to
publish this anguine vessel. The object is reproduced by permission of
the Palestine Exploration Fund.
319. It was purchased by Charlesworth in the early 1990s from an
antiquities dealer in the Old City of Jerusalem.
320. I am grateful to the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum and in
particular to Dr. M. Piccirillo for permission to publish their serpent
realia. See Charlesworth, “Anguine Iconography in the Studium
Biblicum Franciscanum Museum and Biblical Exegesis,” Liber Annus
49 (1999) 431–42, Plates 5 and 6.
321. In D. F. Grose’s Early Ancient Glass, all three examples of
glass serpents are dated to the first century BCE or first century CE.
See Grose, Early Ancient Glass (New York, 1989) p. 372, nos. 678,
679, 680.
322. Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 246.
 323. Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 250.
324. When the serpent is shown with the eagle, however, battle
and conflict are intended, as in the Nabatean sculpture found at
Khirbet et-Tannur. It shows an eagle fighting a large serpent. See the
photograph in EAA 5 (1963) 325:439.
325. See esp. the elegant ophidian iconography found on a vessel
discovered at Dirmil near Bodrum in southwestern Anatolia. It is dated
to 750–700 BCE and is far more advanced artistically than any object
found in Palestine. See N. Asgari et al., The Anatolian Civilisations, p.
16 B19.
326. Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 250.
327. Macalister, Gezer II, p. 399, Fig. 488.
328. Yadin et al., eds., Hazor II, Plate 181.
329. See Rowe, The Four Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan, Plates
14:1,3,4,5; 16: 1–9; 17:1–3; 56A:1–4; 57A:1–4; 58A:1–3; 59A:3–4.
330. Rowe wrote, “The serpent on the cylinders certainly seems to
be a benevolent and not a malevolent one.” The Four Canaanite
Temples of Beth-shan, p. 53.
331. See, e.g., the sophisticated and refined ware with ophidian
iconography found at Tell Brak (741, 742, 747), at Byblos (744), and
the silver vessel from Palestrina (816). For photographs, see Bossert,
Altsyrien, pp. 219 (741, 742), 2 2 0 (744), 221 (747), and 230 (816).
332. For example, the cylindrical and rectangular incense stands
found at Hazor (see Yadin et al., Hazor III-IV, Plate 309:3–6), Lachish
(see Y. Aharoni, Investigations at Lachish: The Sanctuary and the
Residency [Tel Aviv, 1975; Plate 26:3–6 (photograph) and 43:3–6
drawing]), Beth Shemesh (E. Grant, Beth Shemesh, p. 103
[photograph]), Dan (Biran, Biblical Dan, Figs. 133–34), and Ai (J. A.
Callaway and W. W. Ellinger, The Early Bronze Age Sanctuary at Ai
Tell No. 1 [London, 1972] Fig. 73, 74) are devoid of ophidian
iconography. The rectangular cult stands found at Taanach, under the
direction of Sellin and later by Lapp, are quite different; the former
includes lions and human faces, the latter lions with humanlike figures
(see the photographs conveniently presented in A. E. Glock’s
“Taanach,” NEAEHL 4.1428–33 (see the full-page color photography
opposite p. 1476).
333. Rowe, The Four Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan, p. 52.
Rowe also draws attention to a “Garden of Adonis” on a fresco in
Pompeii. See Jeremias, The Old Testament in the Light of the Ancient
East, vol. 1, p. 97 (Fig. 30).
334. Song 2:11–12 and Jer 8:7.
335. Rowe refers us to Evans (The Palace of Minos, vol. 1, p. 508)
who suggested that the dove often symbolized inspiration that
descends, and the serpent, the ascent of the spirit from the
netherworld.
336. Ishtar (= Astarte) symbolized both the burst of life into the
world at spring and its decay in fall and winter. Tammuz represented
vegetation. Tammuz also was thought, during winter, to be in the
netherworld, and according to Ezek 8:14 women wept for him at the
northern gate of the House of the Lord.
337. The interpretation was advanced by Rowe, The Four
Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan, p. 53.
338. This interpretation was first suggested by Rowe, The Four
Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan, p. 54; also see “Additional Note:
Serpents,” p. 57.
339. See Rowe, The Four Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan, Plate
35:11, 12, 14, 15, 16; 64A:2; 68A:1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Also see the drawings
in McGovern, The Late Bronze Egyptian Garrison at Beth Shan, vol. 2,
Plates 76–77; and the photographs on Plate 37. Interpretations of
these naked goddesses must be balanced by the recognition that
women in Egypt often did not cover their breasts.
340. Isa 17:10.
341. See James, McGovern, and Bonn, The Late Bronze Egyptian
Garrison at Beth Shan, vol. 1, p. 171, 241. They also suggest that this
unique feature may “point to an amalgamation of Hathor, a principal
Canaanite goddess, and a snake goddess” (vol. 1, p. 241). Hathor was
an Egyptian goddess imported into the iconography of Canaan.
 342. See May, Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult, Plates 14
and 15; also see the discussion on p. 14.
343. Albright, “The Goddess of Life and Wisdom,” AJSL 36 (1919–
1920) 227.
344. Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 250.
345. Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 249.
346. Koldewey, The Excavations of Babylon, p. 45 (italics mine). I
am grateful to Joines for these references.
347. See S. Langdon, Building Inscriptions of the Neo-Babylonian
Empire. Part I: Nabopolassar and Nebuchadnezzar, pp. 79, 85, 105,
131.
348. See the description and photographs in Encyclopédie
Photographique de l’Art, vol. 1, pp. 266–67. Also see the limestone
deed from the eleventh century BCE with the massive serpent at the
top, ibid., p. 41.
349. Joines also interprets the ophidian symbolism this way; see
her article in JBL 87 (1968) 247; also see Rowe, The Four Canaanite
Temples of Beth-Shan, Plate 42A:5 and 45A:4.
350. Macalister, Gezer III, Plate 221:9.
351. Pritchard (Palestinian Figurines, p. 7 number 11) and Joines
(JBL 87 [1968]) interpret the artwork to denote serpents.
352. Stern, Excavations at Tel Mevorakh, Part 2, p. 23.
353. The serpent on this vase from Susa is a work of art. The head
is triangular and has two circles with black dots inside for eyes. Next to
the curved body is a row of black dots on each side. The serpent
curves upward in a S-shape until it runs perpendicular to the rim. See
the photograph in EAA 7 (1966) 568.
354. This well-known fact can easily be seen in Pritchard, ANEP
413–17 (note the prominent uraeus).
355. See the photograph of the eleventh-century BCE decorated
vessel with serpents on the shoulder in Encyclopédie Photographique
de l’Art, vol. 2, p. 260.
356. See esp. the color photographs in Perrot and Chipiez, History
of Art in Phoenicia, vol. 2, Plates 8, 9 (opposite p. 336 [unfortunately
inadvertently unnumbered]).
 357. See R. Boucharlat, “Archaeology and Artifacts of the Arabian
Peninsula,” Civilizations of the Ancient Near East 2. 1335–53; esp p.
1347.
358. Boucharlat, ibid., p. 1349.
359. Among numerous publications, many already cited, see E.
Hornung, “Ancient Egyptian Religious Iconography,” in Civilizations of
the Ancient Near East 3.171130; esp. Figs. 1, 4, 12, 15, and 20.
360. A convenient chart with drawings is found in A. Green,
“Ancient Mesopota-mian Religious Iconography,” in Civilizations of the
Ancient Near East 3.1837–55; esp see pp. 1838–40, 1848–49. Also
see the seven-headed dragon Mushmakkhu. In this regard, see the
seven-headed enemy mentioned in Ps 74:13–14, Ps 89:10, Isa
51:911, Rev. 12:3, 13:1, 17:3, OdesSol 22:5, and b. Qiddushin 29b.
361. Stunning examples of gold and silver jewelry with serpents
depicted, dating from the Greek and Roman periods, are housed in the
leading museums. I have been impressed by the examples, often in
areas for scholars alone to study, preserved in the Metropolitan, the
British Museum, and the Hermitage, and express appreciation for the
courtesy and support I always received from the knowledgeable staff.
For superb photographs of the gold serpent jewelry in St. Petersburg,
see [no editor], Greek Gold (London, 1955) pp. 114 and 210 (in
Russian). A vast amount of gold was recovered from the tomb of
Philip, the father of Alexander the Great. I studied it in Thessaloniki,
but did not find serpent jewelry.
362. R. S. Bianchi, “The Ancient Mediterranean: Good and Evil
Snakes,” Faces (October 1995) 6–9.

4. The Perception That the Serpent Is a Positive Symbol

in Greek and Roman literature

1. A. Mazahéri, Les Trésors de l’Iran (Geneva, 1970) p. 119 (with

photograph).
2. Persian Zarathustra is in Greek “Zoroaster.” Some of the
traditions in the Avesta are very old, in particular the Yasht and the
myths of the gods, antedating Zarathustra who seems to have lived
sometime between 900 and 500 BCE. See V. Sarkhosh Curtis, Persian
Myths (London, 1993) pp. 9–10.
3. See Sarkhosh Curtis, Persian Myths, p. 44.
 4. See, e.g., H. Henning von der Osten, Die Welt der Perser
(Stuttgart, 1956) Plate 90.
5. See the photograph in Carus, The History of the Devil and the
Idea of Evil (New York, 1996) p. 225.
6. See the illustration in Mazahéri, Les Trésors de l’Iran, p. 117.
7. See E. M. Yamauchi, Persia and the Bible (Grand Rapids, 1996)
p. 498.
8. See the Greek vase in the British Museum numbered BM GR
1873.8–20.375 (Vase E140). For a published drawing, see L. Burn,
Greek Myths (London, 1990) p. 9.
9. See Burn, in Greek Myths, p. 59.
10. J. Onians, Classical Art and the Cultures of Greece and Rome
(New Haven and London, 1999) pp. 12–13.
11. R. P. Martin, ed., Bulfinch’s Mythology (New York, 1991) p. 48.
12. I am grateful to Zanker for this insight; see his The Power of
Images in the Age of Augustus, trans. A. Shapiro (Ann Arbor, 1990) p.
98.
13. See J. F. Gardner, Roman Myths (London, 1993) p. 15.
14. Zanker, The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus, p. v.
15. I am indebted to Zanker for these citations; see his The Power
of Images in the Age of Augustus, pp. 102–3.
16. To make this work accessible to others besides specialists in
Greek and Latin, I have added the dates to the names the first time
they are given. Because it is often debated what dates are to be
assigned to individuals, and because some of them are unknown, I
have taken the dates (or approximate dates) from The Oxford
Classical Dictionary, ed. N. G. L. Hammond and H. H. Scullard
(Oxford, 1970 [2nd ed.]).
17. For photographs and illustrations, see LIMC, VI.2, pp. 94–95.
18. The Minoan culture influenced the Greek mind; see M. P.
Nilsson, The Minoan-Mycenaean Religion and Its Survival in Greek
Religion (New York, 1971 [2nd ed.]).
19. See the photograph of one of the goddesses in the preceding
pages and also in EAA 5 (1963) 68 and of another Minoan goddess
with serpents; it is from Iraklion; see p. 69.
 20. I imagine that few of the millions who have seen the wall
paintings in the Pen-theus Room of the House of the Vettii at Pompeii
will forget the depiction of Hercules as an infant struggling successfully
with serpents. See the photograph in M. Grant and R. Kitzinger, eds.,
Civilization of the Ancient Mediterranean (New York, 1988) vol. 3, p.
1782, Figure 8.
21. See LIMC, IV.2, pp. 552–56.
22. See the succinct summary in P. Preston, Metzler Lexikon:
Antiker Bildmotive (Stuttgart, 1997) pp. 165–69.
23. See the photograph of another gold serpent bracelet in EAA 2
(1959) 160. Also see the elegant ophidian bracelet pictured in EAA 5
(1963) 738.
24. See the photograph of the bronze fountain in the “palestra di
Ercolano” in EAA 5 (1963) 512.
25. See LSJM 1278 and 1279.
26. L. Banti, “Serpenti, Pittore dei,” EAA 7 (1966) 213–14.
27. See the photograph in EAA 7 (1966) 213.
28. BM EA 1539.
29. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 502–4.
30. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, p. 505. Also, see the
photograph of the large vase showing two roosters with two large
serpents in EAA 2 (1959) 265.
31. See F. J. M. de Waele, The Magic Staff or Rod in Graeco-Italian
Antiquity (Gent, 1927).
32. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, p. 523.
33. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 524–26.
34. See the informed discussion by M. Malaise, Les conditions de
pénétration et de diffusion des cultes Égyptiens en Italie (Leiden,
1972).
35. See the photograph in EAA 7 (1966) 853:961 (Typhon with
anguipedes) and 962 (Typhon with a serpent’s body). Also see the
illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, pp. 112–13.
36. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, p. 511.
37. See the photograph in J. Leipoldt and W. Grundmann, eds.,
Umwelt des Urchristentums, 3 vols. (Berlin, 1971, 1972 [both 3rd ed.],
1967 [2nd ed.]) illustration no. 25, also see p. 16 for a good discussion.
38. See esp. the articles collected in Les syncrétismes dans les
religions de l’antiquité, ed. F. Dunand and P. Lévêque (Leiden, 1975).
39. See the illustration in LIMC, VI.2, pp. 273–306.
40. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 217–83, and VIII.2, p.
382.
41. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 491–500, 518.
42. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 379–82.
43. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 373–76.
44. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 422–27.
45. See the illustrations in LIMC, III.2, pp. 490–503.
46. See illustration no. 5 in Leipoldt and Grundmann, eds., Umwelt
des Urchristentums, and the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, pp. 107–26.
47. See the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, pp. 110–12, 120–25.
48. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 376–79.
49. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, p. 606.
50. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 89–93.
51. See the illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, pp. 32–47.
52. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 655–60.
53. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 527–28.
54. See the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, pp. 148–52.
55. Consult Cumont, Recherches sur le symbolisme funéraire des
Romains.
56. A. D. Nock, “Sarcophagi and Symbolism,” in Essays on
Religion and the Ancient World, ed. Z. Stewart (Oxford, 1972) vol. 2,
pp. 606–41; see esp. p. 606, n. 2 (the article originally appeared in
1946).
57. H. Merguet, Lexicon zu den Reden des Cicero, 4 vols. (Jena,
1877; reprinted in Hildesheim by Olms, 1962). Also see K. M. Abbott et
al., eds., Index Verborum in Ciceronis Rhetorica (Urbana, Ill., 1964).
58. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 594–98.
 59. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 480, 484–85.
60. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 707, 716, 726–27, 747,
749–52, 754–55, 761.
61. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 717, 719, 757.
62. See the photograph in Encyclopédie Photographique de l’Art,
vol. 3, p. 166. This is the best copy of the Athena that loomed so large
in the Parthenon. Also see EAA 5 (1965) 1018.
63. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 723.
64. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 724.
65. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 748.
66. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 748, 763.
67. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 728, 753, cf. 754.
68. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 729, 730.
69. I am grateful for the superb assistance I received from the staff
at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens. Maria Zamanou of
the museum is writing a PhD dissertation on the first appearance of
the snake in Greek culture. The Varvakeion Athena is no. 129 in the
museum.
70. See the illustration in LIMC, VII.2, p. 275.
71. See the illustrations in LIMC, III.2, pp. 364, 370. Note the
reconstruction of the Erechtheum by L. Pallat; an upraised serpent is
shown. See EAA 8 (1973) Plate 59. Also, two serpents are shown
coming out of a circular object; see EAA 8 (1973) Plate 60. Note also
the depiction of Hercules fighting a large serpent (“Tempio di Efesto” in
Athens) Plate 65, (and the depiction of gods [?] fighting anguipede
Titans [?] in the Theater of Dionysus; Plate 66:2). Also in Athens (in
the “Monumento di Lisicrate”), a serpent is shown biting a man; Plate
69.
72. See the illustrations in LIMC, III.2, p. 430.
73. See the illustrations in LIMC, III.2, p. 477.
74. See the illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, p. 660.
75. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, p. 332.
76. See the photograph in EAA 6 (1965) 484.
77. See the photograph in EAA 6 (1965) 1087. Gina Salapata of
the School of History, Philosophy and Politics in Massey University in
Palmerston North, New Zealand, is writing an article on the image of
the snake drinking out of a bowl. Her study scans the Greek world
from prehistoric times to the Roman period.
78. See the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, pp. 98–101.
79. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 791.
80. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 793.
81. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 786.
82. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 794–806.
83. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, p. 562.
84. See the photograph in EAA 6 (1965) 5, 11.
85. See the color photograph in EAA 6 (1965) opposite p. 30. Note
the bust with a serpent on the left chest; EAA 6 (1965) 199.
86. It dates from the sixth century BCE and is from Samothrace.
The scene was part of one side of a stone chair. See the photograph in
Encyclopédie Photographique de l’Art, vol. 3, p. 135.
87. See the illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, p. 19.
88. See the illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, pp. 94–109.
89. See the illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, p. 92.
90. See the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, p. 455.
91. See the illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, p. 248.
92. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, p. 577.
93. See the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, pp. 673–719.
94. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, p. 306.
95. See the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, p. 51.
96. See the illustrations in LIMC, VI.2, p. 16.
97. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, p. 186.
98. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, p. 418.
99. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 159–70.
100. See A. M. Roveri, “Qadesh,” EAA 5 (1965) 583–84; see the
photograph of Qadesh standing on a lion and holding a serpent in her
right hand (p. 583).
 101. See M. J. Vermaseren, Cybele and Attis: The Myth and the
Cult (London, 1977); see illustration nos. 38, 25, 26, and 53.
102. See Vermaseren, Cybele and Attis, illustration nos. 16, 53,
and 77.
103. The silver patera is in Milan. See the photograph in G. M. A.
Hanfmann, Roman Art: A Modern Survey of the Art of Imperial Rome
(Greenwich, Conn., 1966) p. 222:144.
104. See the photograph in EAA 2 (1959) 250. The “Arca di
Kypselos” shows a mul-tiheaded hydra and also an anguipede and
winged “god;” see EAA 8 (1973) Plate 186.
105. Aelian, Nat. an. 16.42. For the Greek and English translation,
see Aelian, On the Characteristics of Animals, ed. A. F. Scholfield
(LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1972) vol. 3, pp. 318–19.
106. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 432.
107. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, pp. 540–41.
108. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 355–56.
109. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 559–61.
110. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, p. 428.
111. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 429–30.
112. See the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, p. 429.
113. Aelian, Nat. an. 10.25: serpents that have “beneath their chin”
a beard (into Tifv iirerivnv aïitoîç yévEiov). For the Greek, see Aelian,
On the Characteristics of Animals, vol. 2, p. 318.
114. For the Greek text and English translation, see Edelstein and
Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, pp. 364–65. A similar report that suggests
a shared tradition is found in Nicander, Theriaca, 438–57; see
Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, pp. 363–64.
115. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, p. 134.
116. See the illustrations in LIMC, II.2, pp. 421–22.
117. See the illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, pp. 527, 538. Also see the
photograph in EAA 2 (1959) 170.
118. See the photograph in Encyclopédie Photographique de l’Art,
vol. 3, p. 3:C. The serpent is upraised, rather proudly, and has five
curls. His skin is marked by dots within circles.
 119. See the illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, pp. 531, 546.
120. See the illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, pp. 784, 792.
121. See the illustrations in LIMC, III.2, pp. 206–08, 210, 212–13,
16–17.
122. See the illustrations in LIMC, VIII.2, pp. 22–23.
123. For the Greek and an English translation, see Cicero, De
Natura Deorum, ed. H. Rackham (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass.,
1979) pp. 98–99.
124.Nat. d. 327.
125. Note, for example, how Virgil refers to the Chimera in Lycia
that Aeneas must defeat (Aeneid 6.288, 7.785).
126. In the Schloessinger Collection of lamps one can see “a
hybrid male with a club.” The iconography looks to me more like a
Giant with anguipedes; see R. Rosenthal and R. Sivan, Ancient Lamps
in the Schloessinger Collection (Jerusalem, 1978) p. 29:92 (description
and photography).
127. In Rome and on Trajan’s Column one can see serpent-
demons aligned with Roman soldiers (EAA 8 [1973] Plate 94:LXXVII).
128. Translation mine. For the Latin (and another English
translation), see Lucretius, De rerum natura, ed. C. Bailey (Oxford,
1947) vol. 1, pp. 478–79.
129. James Elkins, The Poetics of Perspective (Ithaca and London,
1994).
130. Aelian, Nat. an. 11.17. For the Greek and English translation,
see Aelian, On the Characteristics of Animals, vol. 2, pp. 382–83.
131. Translation mine; for the Greek, see Edelstein and Edelstein,
Asclepius, p. 367.
132. See B. C. Farnoux, “Mercurio,” EAA 4 (1961) 1031–35.
133. A. L. Frothingham argued that the caduceus can be traced
back to the fourth millennium BCE; see Frothingham, “Babylonian
Origin of Hermes the Snake-God, and of the Caduceus,” American
Journal of Archaeology, Second Series 20 (1916) 175211; for more
recent research, see J. T. Bunn, “Origin of the Caduceus Motif,” JAMA
202.7 (1967) 163–67.
134. See the discussion and drawings in R. Ferwerda, “Le serpent,
le noeud d’Hercule et le caducée d’Hermès, sur un passage orphique
chez Athénagore,” Numeen 20 (1973) 104–15; see esp. p. 113. Also
see the drawing in Jung et al., Man and His Symbols, p. 154.
135. See the photograph in EAA 4 (1961) 1035:1227.
136. See the Roman art depicting a caduceus with serpents facing
in different directions. It is associated with Hermes and is a piece of
fabric. See the photograph in EAA 5 (1965) 1021.
137. See the references cited in LSJM, p. 1991.
138. Thus, Hermes dwells in the region often also associated with
Hades, Pluto, Demeter, and Persephone. Demeter is depicted with the
serpent known as the Python; the other chthonic gods are symbolized
as snake-like or accompanied by a snake.
139. See the photograph in EAA 4 (1961) 8. In the illustration in
EAA 4 (1961) 10, the caduceus has two entwined serpents who rise
and face each other. This is the usual iconography for the caduceus.
140. J. L. Henderson, “Ancient Myths and Modern Man,” in Man
and His Symbols, p. 155.
141. I am thinking in particular of the Indian concept of the
transmigration of the soul, which profoundly influenced Plato. Long
before the writing of the Fourth Gospel, so-called Greek ideas also
influenced Indian thought and culture: dyaus pitar derives from deus
pater, which is Greek for “God, Father.” Perhaps we should not think
only about Greece or India influencing each other, but also about a
common ancestor, the unknown and anonymous culture that poured
into Greece through the Achaeans and into India through the Aryans of
the second millennium BCE. See the fascinating discussion by H.
Zimmer in Philosophies of India, ed. J. Campbell (New York, 1956);
see esp. pp. 25–31, 311–12, 89 (note by Campbell).
142. See the reflections by H. Leisegang in his Das Mysterium der
Schlange: Ein Beitrag zur Erforschung des griechischen
Mysterienkultes und seines Fortlebens in der christlichen Welt (Zürich,
1940) pp. 151–251. For English translation see H. Leisegang, The
Mystery of the Serpent, trans. Apostolos Kontos (Athens, 1993).
143. I understand the references to “the waters under the earth” to
be still part of the earth.
144. The first “E” was written backward.
145. The first “E” was again written backward.
 146. The “H” is written defectively; it looks like an “F.”
147. The first and second “E” are written backward.
148. See the discussion of “der gute Genius” in Leitz, Die
Schlangennamen, pp. 3133. Also see G. B. Montanari,
“Agathadaimon,” EAA 1 (1958) 134–35 (with a photograph on p. 135).
Also see the photograph of the Agathadaimon in Pompeii in the
previous chapter.
149. Also see the discussion later in this chapter of the annual
festival in Alexandria that honored Aion. See notably, R. Ganszyniec,
De Agathodaemone (Warsaw, 1919); Jakobsson, “Daimon och
Agathos Daimon” (PhD diss., Lund, 1925); G. E. Visser, Götter und
Kulte im Ptolemaeischen Alexandrien (Amsterdam, 1938); F. Dunand,
Les représentations de l’Agathodémon: À propos de quelques bas-
reliefs du Musée d’Alexandrie (Bulletin de l’Institut français
d’archéologie orientale 167; [Paris?], 1967) pp. 7–48; and P. M. Fraser,
Ptolemaic Alexandria, 3 vols. (Oxford, 1972) vol. 1, pp. 209–11; vol. 2,
pp. 356–60 (= note 164–79). See esp. the publications he cites in
these note.
150. See R. Ganshinietz, “Agathodämon,” Pauly-Wissowa Suppl. 3
(1918) 37–59. See also O. Jakobsson, “Daimon och Agathos Daimon.”
151. See F. Dunand, “Agathodaimon,” LIMC pp. 277–82.
152. Fraser, Ptolemaic Alexandria, vol. 1, pp. 210–11.
153. See M. Pietrzykowski, “Sarapis—Agathos Daimon,” in
Hommages à Maarten J. Vermaseren, ed. M. B. de Boer and T. A.
Edridge (Leiden, 1978) pp. 959–66.
154. Pompeii IX.7.21; for a photograph see LIMC I.2, p. 203 (no.
7).
155. See the illustration in LIMC, I.2, p. 207.
156. See the illustrations in LIMC, I.2, pp. 203–4. Dunand points
out that on the marble, beneath the serpent, appear to be two humans
who perhaps portray Agatha-daimon and Agatha Tyche.
157. For the photographs, see LIMC, I.2, pp. 204–5.
158. See the photographs in LIMC, I.2, p. 206.
159. See the photograph in LIMC, I.2, p. 207.
160. Dunand, “Agathodaimon,” p. 277.
 161. Dunand, Les représentations de l’Agathodémon, pp. 7–48.
162. Fraser, Ptolemaic Alexandria, vol. 2, p. 357.
163. See Pietrzykowski in Hommages à Maarten J. Vermaseren,
pp. 964–66.
164. The word “Gigantes” does not occur in the Iliad. It appears in
the Odyssey three times (7.59, 7.201–6, 10.120) and seems to denote
a tribe of monstrous men, not unlike demigods, who lived in the past
and on the earth but in a far-off region. A reliable short introduction is
by W. Scott, “Giants (Greek and Roman),” in Encyclopedia of Religion
and Ethics (New York, 1966) vol. 6, pp. 193–97.
165. Prior to the fourth century BCE, Titanomachy was
distinguished from Gigan-tomacy, but the two were meshed in the
subsequent centuries.
166. See F. Vian with M. B. Moore, “Gigantes,” LIMC, IV.1, pp.
191–270.
167. See EAA 8 (1973) Plates 218–25. Also see M. Grant and R.
Kitzinger, eds., Civilization of the Ancient Mediterranean (New York,
1988) vol. 3, p. 1720, Fig. 15.
168. See E. Schmidt, Le grand autel de Pergame (Leipzig, 1962);
see esp. p. 17, and illustrations 5, 10, 15, 16, 28, 29, 35, 36, 37, 38,
and 39.
169. In biblical Hebrew there are numerous nouns that have been
translated as “Giants”: Gibborim, Anakim, Emim, Zamzummim,
Rephaim, and Nephilim. Most of these are either hyperbolas for great
fighters or mean “mighty warriors,” as Gibborim surely does (pace the
translators of the LXX, who took it to mean Giants). Nephilim denote
“Giants.” No skeletons of persons 3 meters tall, or near that size, have
been found in ancient Palestine.
170. See M. A. Harder in Lexikon des früh griechischen Epos
(Thesaurus Linguae Graecae, 1991) vol. 2, col. 147. Also see M.
Hofinger, Lexicon Hesiodeum cum indice inverso, 2 vols. (Leiden,
1978, 1985 [with D. Pinte]).
171. My translation is a revision of that by J. G. Frazer; for the
Greek and his translation, see Apollodorus: The Library (LCL; London,
Cambridge, Mass., 1967) vol. 1, pp. 42–43.
172. See the works cited by M. L. West—notably E. HF 853, Telecl.
1.15, Epig. Gr. Gr. 831.8, Epic. Alex. Adesp. 9.6.13–14, and Batr. 7—
in Hesiod, Theogony, ed. M. L. West (Oxford, 1966) p. 173.
173. See L. Kjellberg, “Die Giganten bei Homer,” Eranos 12 (1912)
195–98; and F. Vian, La guerre des Géants (Paris, 1952).
174. See West, “The Titanomachy,” in Hesiod, Theogony, pp. 336–
59. He discusses the Titanomachy found in Hesiod, Epimenides, and
Pherecydes, and ascribed to Eu-melus or Arctinus.
175. Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Suppl. Gr. 247; see the
illustration in EAA 4 (1961) 111.
176. See esp. the illustrations in LIMO, IV.2, nos. 24, 61h, 92, 93a,
93d, 400, 483, 501, 502, 511, 523, 571, 588, and 589c.
177. See the dracma of Telephos (70–68 BCE) that is shown in
EAA 4 (1961) 155:4.
178. The Latin anguipes, “snake or serpent footed,” is usually
reserved for the Giants. See the Oxford Latin Dictionary (Oxford, 1968)
ad loc. cit.
179. See esp. the ceramic depicting a Giant with massive
anguipedes, now on display in the Staatliche Museen in Berlin
V.I.3375; for a photograph, see LIMC, IV.2, Plate 149 (no. 389).
180. Aelian, Nat. an. 17.1.
181. For the Greek and English translation, see H. L. Jones, ed.
and trans., The Geography of Strabo (LCL; London, Cambridge,
Mass., 1966) vol. 7, pp. 336–37. Also see Geography 17.2.2 and
17.3.6.
182. Strabo, Geography, 2.1.9: .
183. See Ovid, Metam. 1.184; for the Latin and English translation,
see the edition of the Metamorphoses, 2 vols., ed. and trans. F. J.
Miller (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1968, 1971), vol. 1, pp. 14–
15.
184. My translation is essentially the same as that by Frazer; for
the Greek and his translation, see Frazer, Apollodorus, vol. 1, pp. 44–
49.
185. Frazer, Apollodorus, vol. 1, p. 49.
186. Herodotus, Hist. 4.9; see the edition by Godley, vol. 2, pp.
206–7.
187. For depictions of Hercules, see LIMC, IV.2, Plates 445–559.
 188. See the photograph in Encyclopédie Photographique de l’Art,
vol. 3, p. 82:C.
189. Apollodorus, The Library 2.4.8; see Frazer, Apollodorus, vol.
1, pp. 174–75.
190. The plates are in LIMC, IV.2.
191. See esp. T. Gants, Early Greek Myth (Baltimore, London,
1993) p. 410.
192. See the illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, pp. 552–56, V.2, pp. 9–30,
99, 103, 110–11.
193. Note the illustration in EAA 4 (1961) 90:117 and 697:841.
Also, see the illustrations in LIMC, V.2, pp. 52–62.
194. See the photograph in EAA 7 (1966) 18.
195. See the photograph in Encyclopédie Photographique de l’Art,
vol. 3, p. 2.
196. See the photograph in M. Avi Yonah and I. Shatzman,
Illustrated Encyclopaedia of the Classical World (New York, London,
1975) p. 117.
197. For bibliography on Laocoon, see E. Simon, “Laokoon,” in
LIMC, VI.1, pp. 196–201, esp. p. 197.
198. See M. Wacht, Concordantia Vergiliana, 2 vols. (New York,
1996).
199. My translation is based on that by H. R. Fairclough; for the
Latin and Fairclough’s translation, see Virgil (LCL; London, Cambridge,
Mass., 1967) vol. 1, pp. 296–97.
200. My translation is dependent, in most places, on the translation
by Fairclough; for the Latin and English translation, see Fairclough,
Virgil, vol. 1, pp. 308–9.
201. See the photographs in EAA 4 (1961) 467 and 469 (full page);
also see the fragment of a vase showing Laocoon and the serpent on
p. 466:546.
202. See the illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, pp. 94–95 and in the
Illustrated Encyclopaedia of the Classical World, p. 260.
203. Simon calls them “Ein dämonisches Schlangenpaar.” LIMC,
VI.1, p. 196. I demur.
204. See the photograph of the elegant example of Glykon as a
serpent with a friendly human face in EAA 9 (1973) p. 356:352. Also
see G. Bordenacher, “Glykon,” EAA 9 (1973) 356.
205. See the illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, Plate 161 and in EAA 9
(1973) 356:351.
206. See the drawing in LIMC, IV.1, p. 281 and F. Lenormant, “Un
monument du culte de Glykon,” Gazette archéologique 4 (1878) 179–
83. Also see the bibliography and discussion by G. B. Battaglia in
LIMC, IV.1, pp. 279–83.
207. See I. Krauskopf and S.-C. Dahlinger, “Gorgo, Gorgeous,” in
LIMC, IV.1, pp. 285–330.
208. See LIMC, IV.2, Plates 178–88.
209. Ovid, Metam. 4.794–803; for the Latin and English translation,
see Ovid, Metamorphoses, ed. and trans. Miller, vol. 1, pp. 234–35.
210. See R. J. Deferrari et al., A Concordance of Lucan
(Washington, 1940; reprinted at Hildesheim and New York, 1965).
211. Lucan, Pharsalia, 9.629–55; for the Latin and English
translation see J. D. Duff, Lucan (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass.,
1969) pp. 552–53.
212. Ovid, Metam. 4.492–502; for the Latin and English translation,
see the Metamorphoses, ed. Miller, vol. 1, pp. 212–13.
213. Homer, Iliad 11.36–37: ò’èjrì (lèv ropyyrà.
214. See the discussion by Krauskopf and Dahlinger in LIMC IV.1,
p. 300. See the illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, Plates 165, 173, 174–76.
215. See the discussion by Krauskopf and Dahlinger in LIMC, IV.1,
p. 309, and the illustration in LIMC, IV.2, Plate 181, no. 272.
216. See O. Paoletti, “Gorgones Romanae,” in LIMC, IV.1, pp. 345–
62.
217. See the photograph in LIMC, IV.1, Plate 195, no. 12. For a
discussion, see K. M. D. Dunbabin in Bulletin de l’Association
Internationale pour l’Etude de la Mosaïque Antique 7 (1978) 258. Also
see Paoletti, LIMC, IV.1, p. 347.
218. Pherekydes of Athens FGrH 16b (according to Schol. Apoll.
Rhod. IV 1396; Jacoby, Fragmente, p. 65).
219. The Latin adjective insopitus denote “sleepless” and “wakeful.”
Lucan Phar-salia, 9.357; see Duff, Lucan, p. 530.
 220. I. McPhee, “Ladon,” LIMC, VI.1, pp. 176–80. For illustrations,
see LIMC, VI.2, Plates 81–85.
221. Hyginus, Poetica astronomica, 2, 3–6; see McPhee, LIMC,
VI.1, p. 177.
222. F. 16b. The Greek is not rendered correctly in F. Jacoby, Die
Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker (Leiden, 1957) erster Teil,
Neudruck A, p. 65.
223. Jacoby, Fragmente, F.16a, p. 65.
224. See E. E. Urbach on hypostatization; in The Sages, 2 vols.,
trans. I. Abrahams (Jerusalem, 1979). Also see C. G. Jung,
Gesammelte Werke (Olten, 1976) vol. 9.2, p. 294.
225. See M. Zepf, “Der Gott Alcóv in der hellenistischen
Theologie,” Archivfür Religionswissenschaft 25 (1927) 225–44. Also
see M. Le Glay, “Aion,” LIMC pp. 399–411, and Nock, “A Vision of
Mandulis Aion,” in Essays, pp. 357400.
226. My translation is idiomatic. I have avoided the temptation to
produce a rhyme in English. I am convinced such efforts fail to
represent the ancient flow of words.
227. For the Greek, see A. S. Way, Euripides (LCL; London,
Cambridge, Mass., 1962) vol. 3, p. 324.
228. See the photograph in EAA 4 (1961) 1037.
229. . See F. Astius (Ast), Lexicon
Platonicum sive vocum Platonicarum Index, 2 vols. (Bonn, 1835–1838;
reprinted: Darmstadt, 1956). For Plato there can be no eternity on
earth; see H. Perls, “Zeit,” Lexikon der Platonischen Begriffe (Bern,
1973) pp. 401–5.
230. See the similar thoughts expressed by A. E. Taylor, A
Commentary on Plato’s Timaeus (Oxford, 1928) p. 187.
231. See E. Norden, Geburt des Kindes (Leipzig, 1924) p. 28.
232. See LIMC, I.2, Plates 310–19.
233. One example is a mosaic from the Mithraeum of Sentinum in
Italy from the third century BCE (illustration no. 13 on Plate 313 in
LIMC, I.2). Another is in the relief at Modena that dates from the first
half of the second century BCE (see illus. no. 17 on Plate 314 in LIMC
I.2).
234. See illustration in LIMC, I.2, Plate 312, no. 12.
 235. Horapollon, Hieroglyphika I.1 and Olympiodorus, Alch. 80.9–
11; see Z. Kiss, “Ouroboros,” LIMC, VII.1, pp. 136–37.
236. This is also the verdict of Kiss, LIMC, VII.1, p. 137. It is
confirmed by a study of A. Piankoff, The Shrines of Tut-Ankh-Amon
(Princeton, 1955) esp. Plate 48.
237. See the illustrations in LIMC, VII.2, Plate 93; see esp. no. 10.
238. See W. Deonna, “Ouroboros,” Artibus Asiae 15 (1952) 163–
70; K. Preisen-danz, “Aus der Geschichte des Uroboros,” Brauch und
Sinnbild (Karlsruhe, 1940) pp. 194–209.
239. For the Greek, see K. Preisendanz, Papyri Graecae Magicae
(Stuttgart, 1974 [2nd ed.]) vol. 2, pp. 71–72. For the English, see H. F.
D. Betz, ed., The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation (Chicago,
London, 1985) p. 161. Another extremely important PGM is 1.144–48.
240.Metam. 2.138. For the Greek and English translation, see
Ovid, Metamorphoses, 2 vols., ed. Miller, vol. 1, pp. 68–69.
241. My idiomatic translation; Metam. 2.173–75; see
Metamorphoses, ed. Miller, vol. 1, pp. 72–73.
242. Kiss in LIMC, VII.1, p. 137.
243. Contrast the comment by Z. Kiss in LIMC, VII.1, p. 137:
Ouroboros “exprime que ‘la fin est le commencement et le
commencement la fin.’ “
244. I saw the quotation while reading Taylor’s A Commentary on
Plato’s Timaeus; see p. 187 on which this quotation appears from
Vaughn’s poem “The World,” stanza 1.
245. See R. du Mesnil du Buisson, “Le grand serpent Babi Dieu Sid
devenu le pèredes Sardes,” Nouvelles études sur les dieux et les
mythes de Canaan (Leiden, 1973) pp. 228–40.
246. None of these names appears in LSJM or in OCD. See A.
Kossatz-Deissmann, “Chnoubis,” LIMC, pp. 272–73.
247. For the Greek and English translation, see Jones, The
Geography of Strabo, pp. 126–27.
248. As quoted by A. B. Cook, Zeus: A Study in Ancient Religion, 5
vols. (Cambridge, 1914–1940) vol. 1, p. xii.
249. See the photograph in Avi Yonah and Shatzman, Illustrated
Encyclopedia of the Classical World, p. 261.
 250. See the minor note in Cook, Zeus, vol. 3, part 2, p. 1182; also
see p. 1041.
251. Aelian, Nat. an. 11.2. For the Greek and English translation,
see Aelian, On the Characteristics of Animals, vol. 2, pp. 358–59.
252. See M. J. Vermaseren, De Mithrasdienst in Rome (Nijmegen,
1951); R. L. Gordon, “Mithraism and Roman Society,” Journal of
Religion and Religions (1973) 92–121; U. Bianchi, ed., Mysteria
Mihthrae (Leiden, 1979); Vermaseren, Mithriaca III: The Mithraeum at
Marino (Leiden, 1982); and the discussion of the Mithraeum excavated
in 1922 at Capua by M. J. Vermaseren in Mithriaca I: The Mithraeum
at S. Maria Capua Vetere (Leiden, 1971); also see the color
photographs of the serpent on Plates III, IV, and V.
253. See illustration nos. 112 and 113 in Leipoldt and Grundmann,
Umwelt des Urchristentums.
254. Note the second-or third-century depiction of Mithra, in S.
Maria Capua Vetere, killing a bull with a knife and a large serpent
attacking from below; see the color photographs in EAA 2 (1959) 335
and EAA 5 (1963) 117.
255. See L. A. Campbell, “Snake,” in Mithraic Iconography and
Ideology (Leiden, 1968) pp. 13–22. Also see EAA 5 (1963) 116.
256. See the illustrations and succint discussion by Vermaseren in
Mithriaca II: The Mithraeum at Ponza (Leiden, 1974) pp. 20–21, and
Plates 28–31.
257. See S. Insler, “A New Interpretation of the Bull-Slaying Motif,”
in Hommages à Maarten J. Vermaseren, ed. M. B. de Boer and T. A.
Edridge (Leiden, 1978) pp. 51938; the quotation is from p. 536. I think
it is pertinent to clarify, as Insler knows, that his interpretation is not
“new.”
258. I think G. H. Halsberghe has tended to focus myopically on
the cult of Sol invictus; Mithraism was not always inferior to this cult.
See Halsberghe, The Cult of Sol Invictus (Leiden, 1972).
259. Vermaseren, “The Miraculous Birth of Mithras,” in Studia G.
van Hoorn (Leiden, 1951) pp. 285ff.
260. For a drawing and a brief discussion, see Lexicon der
Mythologie, p. 12.
261. I shall use the popular English hybrid: Asclepius.
262. According to the Iliad 12, Hector, leader of the Trojans, rejects
the idea that a serpent that has just bitten an eagle and thus escapes
can be an omen. The event occurred in the presence of the Trojan
army.
263. See A. Gehring, IndexHomericus (Leipzig, 1891–1895;
reprinted in Hildesheim and New York, 1970). Even better, see H.
Dunbar, A Complete Concordance to the Iliad of Homer (London,
1975; reprinted by Olms in Hildesheim and New York, 1983). Also see
H. Dunbar, A Complete Concordance to the Odyssey of Homer
(Oxford, 1880; reprinted in Hildesheim and New York, 1971).
264. See J. R. Tebben, Hesiod-Konkordanz (New York, 1977). Also
see W. M. Minton, Concordance to the Hesiodic Corpus (Leiden,
1976).
265. T. Schnalke with C. Selheim, Asklepios: Heilgott und Heilkult
(Erlangen-Nürnberg, 1990) p. 7.
266. See ibid., p. 9: “Prinzipiell besass jeder griechische Gott
Heilungskraft.”
267. Pliny, Nat. 29.1; see the edition by W. H. S. Jones (LCL;
London, Cambridge, Mass., 1963) vol. 8, pp. 182–83. Also see, P.
Rosumek, Concordantia in C. Pli-nii Secundi Naturalem Historiam, 7
vols. (New York, 1996); for anguis, see vol. 1, p. 778.
268. See M. Hamilton, Incubation (Laurinburg, N.C., 1906). For
bibliographical information on the study of incubation and a succinct
summary, see T. A. Brady and J. E. Fontenrose, “Incubation,” OCD,
pp. 543–44.
269. S. G. Stauropoulos, The Askleipeia of Peloponnesia (Athens,
2000 [in Greek]).
270. Also note the beautiful green steatite amygdaloid of Epidaurus
Limera that is an island gem by the “Serpent Master,” which dates from
the second half of the seventh century BCE. See the photograph in
Grant and Kitzinger, eds., Civilization of the Ancient Mediterranean,
vol. 3, p. 1724:a.
271. See A. Charitonidou, Epidaurus ([Athens], 1978) p. 7.
272. See Charitonidou, Epidaurus and the more scholarly T.
Papadakis, Epidauros: The Sanctuary of Asclepios (Zürich, Athens,
1971 [7th ed.]).
273. See the reconstruction of the Asclepius temple at Epidaurus
and at Cos in Schnalke and Selheim, Asklepios: Heilgott und Heilkult,
pp. 14 and 19.
274. M. Lang, Cure and Cult in Ancient Corinth (Athens, Princeton,
1977) p. 24.
275. H. Avalos, Illness and Health Care in the Ancient Near East:
The Role of the Temple in Greece, Mesopotamia, and Israel (Atlanta,
1995) p. 89.
276. For an examination of metamorphosis, see P. M. C. Forbes
Irving, Metamorphosis in Greek Myth (Oxford, 1990). Note, in
particular, the mention of coupling snakes in the Admetus’ bedroom
(Pseudo Apollodorus, Library 1.9.15), of two snakes signifying death
(Cicero, Div. 1.6), of Cassandra, Helenus, and Melampus whose ears
are cleaned out by snakes (Pindar, Ol. 6.45ff.; Porph. VA 1.20), and of
Apollonius of Tyana who eats snakes (Philostr. VA 1.20). All citations
are by Forbes Irving.
277. I am indebted to L. R. Farnell, “The Cult of Asklepios,” in
Greek Hero Cults and Ideas of Immortality (Oxford, 1921), pp. 234–79,
esp. p. 236. Also see Farnell, Reflections on Asclepius, trans. E.
Papadopoulos (Athens, 1997 [in Greek]).
278. See K. Kerenyi, Der Göttliche Arzt: Studien über Asklepios
und seine Kultstätten (Darmstadt, 1956) esp. p. 7. Also see the
translation of this book: Asklepios: Archetypal Image of the Physician’s
Existence, trans. R. Manheim (New York, 1959).
279. CIA 31; as cited by Farnell, Greek Hero Cults, p. 277.
280. See H. Matthäus, Der Arzt in römisher Zeit: Literarische
Nachrichten—archäologische Denkmäler, ed. Ph. Filtzinger (Stuttgart,
1987); see illustration no. 22, which depicts a Roman physician who
was portrayed in sculpture as Asclepius.
281.On Medicine Prooemium 2–3. See Celsus, De Medicina, ed.
and trans. W. G. Spencer (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1971) vol.
1, pp. 2–3.
282. Edelstein summarizes his study of Asclepius with the
conclusion that “Asclepius was a ‘special god,’ created by men to be in
charge of one task alone, that of healing.” Edelstein and Edelstein,
Asclepius, vol. 2, p. 91. Also see A. Esser, “Asklepios und die
Schlange,” FF 17/18 (1948) 196–198.
283. See the sixty-one photos that follow p. 214 in J. Schouten, De
slangestaf van Asklepios als symbool van de Geneeskunde
(Amsterdam, New York, 1963).
284. For the picture, see Schnalke and Selheim, Asklepios: Heilgott
und Heilkult, p. 10.
285. R. J. Deferrari et al., A Concordance of Ovid, 2 vols.
(Washington, 1939; reprinted in Hildesheim and New York, 1968).
286. Ovid, Metam. 15. 658–62. The text and translation is taken
from Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, pp. 435–41. Also see
Ovid, Metamorphoses, trans. R. Humphries (Bloomington, 1957) p.
385. Also see Kerényi, Asklepios, vol. 3, p. 10.
287. Antoninus Pius circulated a medallion commemorating this
event; see the photograph in EAA 4 (1961) 945:1126.
288. See the illustration in Kerényi, Asklepios, p. 4 (Fig. 2).
289. See the interesting speculation by Kerényi that depictions of
mice can well denote that a meal for a serpent is symbolized. See his
“On Snakes and Mice in the Cults of Apollo and Asklepios,” in
Asklepios, pp. 102–05.
290. See R. MacMullen, Paganism in the Roman Empire (New
Haven, London, 1981) p. 12.
291. On the general phenomenon of healing in the Ancient Near
East, see Avalos, Illness and Health Care in the Ancient Near East,
esp. chapter 1, “Greece: The Temples of Asclepius.”
292. R. Caton, The Temples and Ritual of Asklepios at Epidauros
and Athens (London, 1900). See esp. the illustration on p. 46.
293. See esp. “Die Heilungen in Epidauros,” in Kerényi, Der
Göttliche Arzt, pp. 25–56 (with illustrations). Also see the map of
Epidaurus and plan of the Asclepian Temple in illustrations 19 and 20
in Leipoldt and Grundmann, Umwelt des Urchristentums.
294. See “Die Asklepiossöhne auf Kos,” in Kerényi, Der Göttliche
Arzt, pp. 57–78 (with illustrations).
295. See the reconstruction by H. Schleif presented in Kerényi, Der
Göttliche Arzt, p. 55 (with illustrations).
296. See “Asklepios in Rom,” in Kerényi, Der Göttliche Arzt, pp. 9–
24 (with illustrations).
297. Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 2, p. 116.
298. See the same judgment expressed in Leipoldt and
Grundmann, Umwelt des Urchristentums, vol. 1, p. 69.
299. See the serpent in illustration no. 2 in Leipoldt and
Grundmann, Umwelt des Christentums.
300. See A. Bouché-Leclercq, Histoire de la divination dans
l’antiquité (Paris, 1880; rep. in Darmstadt, 1978) vol. 3, p. 290.
301. See esp. the following publications: H. von Fritze, “Die Münze
von Pergamon,” Abhandlungen der Königlich-Preussischen Akademie
der Wissenschaften zu Berlin, Philosophisch-historische Klasse-
Anhang (Berlin, 1910); O. Bernhard, “Asklepios und sein Geschlecht
auf griechischen und römischen Münzen,” Ciba-Zeitschr (1936) 1014–
20; P. R. Franke, “Asklepios—Aesculapius auf antiken Münzen,”
Medizinischer Monatsspiegel 3 (1969) 60–67; K. W. Harl, Coinage in
the Roman Economy: 300 B.C. to A.D. 700 (Baltimore, London, 1996);
T. Kroha, Grosses Lexikon der Numismatik (Gütersloh, 1997); see esp.
pp. 40, 95, 214, 242, and 466; and R. Plant, Greek Coin Types and
Their Identification (London, 1979).
302. K.-H. Hunger seeks to comprehend what the Asclepian staff
means in communication; see his Der Äskulapstab (Berlin, 1978).
303. See the drawing in Kerenyi, Der Göttliche Artz, p. 18.
304. Ibid., p. 34.
305. Ibid., pp. 43 and 113.
306. I well remember how de Vaux so animatedly lectured at the
Ecole Biblique in the 1960s. As when working on serpent symbolism
we must forget the present negative connotations, so with canine
symbolism we must forget the regnant positive assumptions and
experiences (esp. in the West).
307. See esp. P. France et al., “Dog,” in An Encyclopedia of Bible
Animals (Tel Aviv, 1986) pp. 50–51.
308. An example of the dog as a negative symbol is found in Norse
myths; it is the horrible Garm.
309. See H. Biedermann, “Dog,” in Dictionary of Symbolism, trans.
J. Hulbert (New York, 1994) pp. 97–99.
310. As cited by R. Jackson in Doctors and Diseases in the Roman
Empire (London, 1988) p. 140.
311. Sometimes Hygieia is incorrectly reported to be the wife of
Asclepius.
 312. Aristides, Oratio 38, 22; see Edelstein and Edelstein,
Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 133. For the text of Aristides, see C. A. Behr and
F. W. Lenz, P. Aelii Aristides Opera Quae Exstant Omnia, 2 vols.
(Leiden, 1976–1980). Also see P. Aelius Aristides, The Complete
Works, 2 vols., ed. and trans. C. A. Behr (Leiden, 1981–86).
313. See note 317 and 318 on ancient coins.
314. For bibliography and a succinct discussion of Hygieia, see Z.
Goceva, “Hygieia,” LIMC, 5.1, pp. 554–73.
315. See esp. the photograph of the statue of Hygieia in Rhodes
from about 140 CE in Kerenyi, Der Göttliche Arzt, p. 68.
316. No mention of the snake is found in the Orphic Hymn to
Hygieia (68).
317. Y. Meshorer, The Coinage of Aelia Capitolina (Jerusalem,
1989) pp. 114, 5667. See esp. the anguine iconography on the reverse
of coin no. 175 (p. 115).
318. K. Butcher, Roman Provincial Coins (London, 1988) see esp.
pp. 67, 68, 78, 87.
319. See also the photograph in LIMC, V.2, Plate 381, no. 9.
320. See the photograph in LIMC, V.2, Plate 382, no. 22.
321. See the photograph in LIMC, V.2, Plate 390, no. 128.
322. According to a carving of c. 400 CE, the serpent is shown
curled affectionately around her shoulder and nibbling from a fruit, or
nut, held in her right hand. The mouth of the serpent is formed into a
smile. See the photograph in EAA 3 (1960) 142.
323. For example, see LIMC, V.2, Plate 390, no. 124.
324. Consult A. N. Athanassakis, The Orphic Hymns: Text,
Translation and Note (Missoula, 1977) pp. 56–57.
325. On the image of “the father,” see Y. Knibiehler, Geschichte der
Väter: Eine kultur-undsocialhistorische Spurensuche (Freiburg, Basel,
1996).
326. Pliny, Nat. 29.4 (22) 72; see the Latin and English translation
in Edelstein and Edelstein, Asclepius, p. 362.
327. See the photographs of the game boards preserved in the
Oriental Institute, Metropolitan Museum of Art, and Musée du Louvre
published in A. Levey, “Bad Timing: Time to Get a New Theory,” BAR
24.4 (1998) 18–23; the photographs are on p. 21. Also see “Jouer
dans l’antiquité,” Musées de Marseille (Paris, 1991) pp. 125–29; and
see Catalogue Nos. 174–75; M.-N. Bellesort, “Le jeu de serpent: Jeux
et jouets dans l’antiquité et le Moyen Age,” Dossiers d’archéologie
(1992) 8–9.
328. See M. Schmidt, Der Basler Medeasarkophag: Ein
Meisterwerk Spàtanto-ninischer Kunst (Tubingen, 1997); see the
serpents depicted on illustration 1, 9, 19 (close-up of Medea and the
curled and upright serpents), 21 (close-up of serpents and the man
being crushed beneath them), 28 (from the Berlin Medea
sarcophagus, showing two majestic serpents with wings drawing
Medea in her chariot), p. 32 (the fleeing Medea on the backs of two
winged serpents, from an ash urn from Ostia), photos of the Medea
sarcophagi in Rome (Aula VI Thermen Museum) and in Mantua
(Palazzo Ducale). Sometimes Medea is depicted feeding a serpent;
see the illustration in EAA 4 (1961) 951:1135. Sometimes she is
shown with two massive serpents; see the illustration in EAA 4 (1961)
956.
329. Inv. SK 843 b. See the photograph in Schmidt, Der Basler
Medeasarkophag, illustration p. 28.
330. Inv. Nr. 10. See the photograph in Schmidt, Der Basler
Medeasarkophag, illustration p. 31.
331. In Aula VI; Neg. Rom. Inst. 63. See the photograph in
Schmidt, Der Basler Medeasarkophag, illustration on p. 32.
332. See Ch. Belting-Ihm, “Sarcofago,” EAA 7 (1966) 2–40; esp.
see the ophidian iconography shown on pp. 18 (Hercules), 21:31
(Eleusinian myth), 34:52 (S. Maria Antiqua). Also see p. 107
(caduceus in the hand of a male; Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek,
Copenhagen). Note also the second-century CE shroud designed to
be placed on a mummy that is now preserved in the Staatliche
Museen in Berlin. It shows an upraised cobra. I have no doubt that in
this instance rejuvenation and thoughts about the new life after death
were intended. See the color photograph in EAA 7 (1966) opposite p.
546. Also see the picture of the anguiped Tritons and the Nereides
depicted on the sarcophagus in the Musei Vaticani; it is found in EAA 7
(1966) 991. Also see the sarcophagi shown in EAA 9 (1973) 720 and
727.
333. See the photographs in EAA 4 (1961) 91:119 and 393:463
and 955:1139.
 334. It is in the Museo Nazionale in Taranto; see LIMC, V.2, p. 433.
335. One is in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg (no. 586;
[St. 350]; see LIMC, II.2, p. 135), and another in Museo Nazionale in
Policoro (see LIMC, II.2, p. 139).
336. It is in the Basel Antikenmuseum und Sammlung Ludwig. For
a photograph see LIMC, VII.2, p. 610.
337. It is in the National Museum in Copenhagen (no. 731).
338. The sarcophagus is in the Museo degli Uffizi in Florence. See
the illustration in LIMC, III.2, p. 679.
339. One is in the Palazzo Rospiglios, another in Amalfi Cathedral,
and a third in the Villa Giustiniani Massimo; all are in Rome. See the
illustrations in LIMC, IV.2, p. 233 and IV.2, p. 234.
340. See LIMC, VIII.2, pp. 645–46.
341. See LIMC, VIII.2, p. 652.
342. They are in the Aachen Cathedral, Walton House, the Louvre,
and in the Cabinet des Médailles (he is depicted on a plate). See
LIMC, I V.2, p. 605.
343. One is in Aachen (Dom G 3 [see the photograph in LIMC, V.2,
p. 420]), and another in the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna (I
1126 [see the photograph in LIMC, V.2, p. 420]).
344. See illustration no. 29 in Leipoldt and Grundmann, Umwelt
des Urchristentums. See the discussion in G. D’Alviella, The Mysteries
of Eleusis (Wellingborough, Northhamptonshire, 1981) esp. pp. 22–25
and in G. Siettos, The Eleusinian Mysteries (Athens, 1993 [in Greek]).
345. See G. Bauchhenss, Jupitergigantensäulen, ed. Ph. Filtzinger
(Stuttgart, 1976); see the illustrations of Jupiter trampling with his
horse on a Giant (Nos. 24, 26), or using the Giant with his massive
serpentine feet to elevate his horses (Nos. 25, 27), and even
sometimes his chariot. Sometimes the Giant uses his hands (Nos. 28,
29) or the serpent heads of his legs (not shown, but see RL 412 in the
Württembergisches Landesmuseum Stuttgart, Altes Schloss).
346. In the third century CE, Alexander Severus issued a medallion
that shows Asclepius riding on the back of a winged serpent that has a
goatee. He also holds in his hand a staff with a serpent around it. See
the drawing in Kerényi, Der Göttliche Arzt, p. 106.
347. For the Greek and English translation, see A. D. Godley,
Herodotus (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1957) vol. 2, pp. 394–95.
For the vocabulary of Herodotus, see J. E. Powell, A Lexicon to
Herodotus (London, 1938 [2nd ed.]; reprinted in Hildesheim and New
York in 1966).
348. See 2.75; for the Greek and English translation, see Godley,
Herodotus, vol. 1, pp. 360–61.
349. See 3.109; for the Greek and English translation, see Godley,
Herodotus, vol. 2, pp. 136–37.
350. Aelian, Nat. an. 2.38. For the Greek and English translation,
see Aelian, On the Characteristics of Animals, vol. 1, pp. 134–35.
351. See F. Cumont, Recherches sur le symbolisme funéraire des
Romains (Paris, 1842, repr. New York, 1995). See Nock’s review of
Cumont’s work in JRS 38 (1948) 154–56; and Nock, “Sarcophagi and
Symbolism.”
352. I am indebted to the summary by F. R. Walton, “After-Life,” in
OCD, pp. 23–24.
353. See I. Rumpel, Lexicon Pindaricum (Stuttgart, 1883; reprinted
in Hildesheim and New York in 1961).
354. For the Greek and English translation, see J. Sandys, The
Odes of Pindar (LCL: London, Cambridge, Mass., 1961) pp. 22–25.
Also see the references to the Island of the Blessed Ones in The
History of the Rechabites, ed. and trans. Charlesworth (Chico, Calif.,
1982).
355. Farnell, Greek Hero Cults, p. 379.
356. See G. Siettos, The Pythagorean Mysteries (Athens, 1993 [in
Greek]).
357. See W. Burkert, Ancient Mystery Cults (Cambridge, Mass.,
London, 1987) p. 29. Contrast J. S. Jeffers, who thinks that “the
mystery religion … promised Romans an afterlife.” Jeffers, The Greco-
Roman World of the New Testament Era (Downers Grove, Ill., 1999) p.
98.
358. See Numa Denis Fustel de Coulanges, The Ancient City
(Baltimore, 1980 [a reprint of an earlier work, since the author died in
1889]) p. 7
359. See Vermaseren, Cybele and Attis.
360. See E. A. Wallis Budge, Osiris and the Egyptian Resurrection
(New York, 1973).
361. W. W. G. Baudissin, Adonis und Esmun: Eine Untersuchung
zur Geschichte des Glaubens an Auferstehungsgötter und an
Heilgötter (Leipzig, 1911); see esp. pp. 325–39.
362. The Egyptians thought that their pharaohs were divine and
would be “resurrected,” and that does seem to be the proper word.
See Wallis Budge, Osiris and the Egyptian Resurrection.
363. The Greek is taken from A. S. Way, ed. and trans. Euripides
(LCL 330; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1958) vol. 4, pp. 386–87.
364. My translation is influenced by F. J. Miller’s edition. For the
Latin and English translation, see Ovid, Metamorphoses, vol. 1, pp.
358–59.
365. Varrus, 5.68; see R. G. Kent, ed., Varro: On the Latin
Language (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1967) vol. 1, pp. 66–67.
Also see S. Lunais, Recherches sur la lune: Les auteurs latins (Leiden,
1979).
366. Ovid, Metam. 7.219–23. My translation is based on the one by
Miller.
367. Ovid, Metam. 5.642–44. My translation is essentially that by
Miller.
368. See the photograph in Encyclopédie Photographique de l’Art,
vol. 3, p. 252:B.
369. Ovid, Metam. 3. 41–45; according to the Metamorphoses, ed.
Miller, vol. 1, pp. 126–27.
370. Ovid, Metam. 3. 77–80; according to the Metamorphoses, ed.
Miller, vol. 1, pp. 128–31.
371. Ovid, Metam. 4.563–603. For the full story of how Cadmus
was turned into a serpent see Ovid’s Metam. 4. One of the most
convenient editions is the one I have been using: Ovid,
Metamorphoses, ed. Miller.
372. Translation mine; for the Latin, see Ovid, Fasti, edited and
translated by J. G. Frazer (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1967) pp.
74–77.
373. The relief is now in the Berlin Museum; see the photograph in
EAA 7 (1966) 432:532.
374. Hesiod, Theogony, p. 258.
 375. For depictions of serpents at Pompeii, see the photographs in
EAA 4 (1961) 480–81.
376. See LIMC, VIII.2, p. 691.
377. See LIMC, VIII.2, p. 766.
378. Notably, see P. Diel, Le symbolisme dans la mythologie
Grecque: Étude psychanalytique (Paris, 1952). See his study of
Asclepius on pp. 216–31. Also see C. A. Meier, Antike Inkubation und
Moderne Psychotherapie (Zürich, 1949).
379. See Schnalke and Selheim, Asklepios: Heilgott und Heilkult,
p. 11.
380. H. Busch and G. Edelmann, eds., Etruskische Kunst,
introduction and discussion of pictures by W. Zschietzschmann
(Frankfurt, 1969) p. 72.
381. Busch and Edelmann, Etruskische Kunst, p. xxxii.
382. On the pediment of the Acropolis in Athens two massive
serpents are portrayed with two lions; see EAA 8 (1973) Plate 180:4.
383. Busch and Edelmann, Etruskische Kunst, pp. xxxii, 72.
384. Busch and Edelmann, Etruskische Kunst, pp. xxxvii, 95.
385. Clarus, Keltische Mythen, p. 310.
386. One was found in a Romano-British well at Emberton,
Buckinghamshire, and another, for example, near Bonn. See the
photographs in M. J. Green, Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend
(London, 1992) p. 149.
387. It is no. 2356; the later Mercury with caduceus has no
inventory number.
388. See Green, Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend, p. 150.
389. Ibid., p. 194.
390. See C. Squire, Celtic Myths and Legends (Bath, 2000) pp.
376–80. Five hundred years later, Merlin dug them up; thence the Red
Dragon drove the White Dragon from Britain.
391. See the photograph in A. Krumm, Der Keltische Armreif
(Tettnang, 1986) p. 26.
392. See J. Biel, Der Keltenfürst von Hochdorf (Stuttgart, 1981); K.
Bittel, W. Kimmig, and S. Schiek, eds., Die Kelten in Baden-
Württemberg (Stuttgart, 1981); and F. Unruh, Aufbruch nach Europa:
Hiemat der Kelten am Ursprung der Donau (Stuttgart, 1994).
393. As far as I know, it is not yet published. It can be seen in the
Württembergisches Landesmuseum in Stuttgart, Altes Schoss.
394. See Inv. R 130,4.12 in the Württembergisches
Landesmuseum in Stuttgart, Altes Schoss.
395. See Br. Inv. R 73, 1706 in the Württembergisches
Landesmuseum in Stuttgart, Altes Schoss.
396. These two bronze serpent clasps are on public display in the
Württembergisches Landesmuseum in Stuttgart, Altes Schoss.
397. For photographs, see H. Gabelmann, Römische Grabbauten
der frühen Kaiserzeit, ed. Ph. Filtzinger (Stuttgart, 1979) pp. 50–52,
and especially Illustration no. 20 opposite p. 5.
398. Note, esp., A. Böhme-Schönbeger, Kleidung und Schmuck in
Rom und den Provinzen (Stuttgart, 1997).
399. For a color photograph of the gold bracelets and a black-and-
white photograph of the remains of the woman, see Böhme-
Schönberger, Kleidung und Schmuck, p. 58.
400. See the photograph in Böhme-Schönberger, Kleidung und
Schmuck, p. 59.
401. See the photographs in Böhme-Schönberger, Kleidung und
Schmuck, pp. 62 and 64, respectively.
402. On the difficulty of understanding our sources on religion in
Rome in the middle and late Republic, see esp. M. Beard, J. North,
and S. Price, Religions of Rome, 2 vols. (Cambridge, 1998) vol. 1, p.
119.
403. See C. R. Long, The Twelve Gods of Rome (Leiden, 1987) p.
235.
404. The anguine figure is in the Charlesworth collection in
Princeton.
405. Aelian, Nat. an. 1.51: “The corpse of a wicked man receives
(so I think) the reward of his ways in becoming the progenitor of a
snake [orjjscoc,].” See Aelian, On the Chracteristics of Animals, vol. 1,
pp. 70–71.
406. Farnell, Greek Hero Cults and Ideas of Immortality, p. 377.
 407. Aelian thus celebrates the drug that comes from the Purple
Snake (4.36). For the Greek and English, see Aelian, On the
Characteristics of Animals, vol. 1, pp. 252–53.
408.Vita Apollonii 3.44. The Greek is translated idiomatically, and I
am indebted to the translation of Edelstein and Edelstein in Asclepius,
vol. 1, p. 189; for the Greek see vol. 1, p. 188.
409. O. Gruppe thought this Sanchuniathon never existed, but W.
F. Albright claimed that he did exist, lived in Berytus, and was a
refugee from Tyre. For us it is not relevant whether Sanchuniathon
was a valuable source concerning Phoenician theology; it is more
important that Philo of Byblos, about the time of the Fourth Gospel,
published the ideas concerning a serpent.
410. Our only source for Philo of Byblos is Eusebius’ Praeparatio
evangelica (PE). Eusebius, as one might imagine, denigrates the idea
that snakes can be beneficial. He thus marks one of the turning points
in the appreciation of the serpent.
411. Actually, Eusebius is citing Philo of Byblos who claims to be
translating San-chuniathon, who in turn is quoting a certain Taautos at
this point. This phenomenon often confronts one who is studying the
first century; that is, we have only citations of otherwise lost works (see
Charlesworth in OTP, vol. 2, pp. 775–76 and J. Strugnell, ibid., pp.
777–79.
412. For the Greek and translation see H. W. Attridge and R. A.
Oden, Philo of Byblos: The Phoenician History (Washington, D.C.,
1981), pp. 64–65. For another edition and translation, see A. I.
Baumgarten, The Phoenician History of Philo of By-blos (Leiden,
1981).
413. For the Greek and English, see Baumgarten, The Phoenician
History of Philo of Byblos.
414. Pliny, Nat. 29.22, vulgoque pascitur et in domibus. For the
Latin and English translation, see Pliny, Natural History, ed. Jones, vol.
8, pp. 230–31.
415. I purchased them years ago in Cologne.
416. I acquired this in the 1980s or 1990s.
417. W. Burkert, Structure and History in Greek Mythology and
Ritual (Berkeley and London, 1979) p. 20.
418. There is little information in Cicero’s De natura deorum
concerning serpents even though cats (1.82, 101; 3.47) and crocodiles
(1.82, 101; 2.124, 129; 3.47) are discussed. I find this surprising. Is it
because of the learned circles in which Cicero lived and worked?
419. Lucian, Alex. 4. The Greek and English translation of Lucian’s
“Alexander the False Prophet” is derived from A. M. Harmon, Lucian
(LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1969) vol. 4.
420. See esp. J. Wytzes, Der Letzte Kampf des Heidentums in
Rom (Leiden, 1977).
421. See M. Smith, “How Magic Was Changed by the Triumph of
Christianity,” in Studies in the Cult of Yahweh, ed. S. J. D. Cohen
(Leiden, 1996) vol. 2, pp. 208–16.
422. For a judicial assessment of the sociological ramifications of
these edicts, see F. R. Trombley, Hellenic Religion and Christianization
c. 370–529, 2 vols. (Leiden, 1993–1994).
423. See Porphyry, De regressu animae and De philosophia ex
oraculis hauriendis. See esp. the discussion on demonology by A. D.
Nock, Essays on Religion and the Ancient World, ed. Z. Stewart
(Oxford, 1972) vol. 2, pp. 516–26.
424. Plato, Apology of Socrates 19. See the discussions by D.
Tarrant and others in Der historische Sokrates, ed. A. Patzer
(Darmstadt, 1987).
425. See K. Kleve, “The Daimonion of Socrates,” in The Many and
the One, ed. P. Borgen (Trondheim, 1985) pp. 183–201.
426. Tertullian, An. 1.5: Socrates secundum Pythii quoque
daemonis suffragium. See A. Gerlo, ed., Tertulliani Opera (Corpus
Christianorum, Series Latina II. Turn-hout, 1954) part II, p. 782.
427. See illustration no. 74 in Leipoldt and Grundmann, Umwelt
des Urchristentums.
428. See illustration no. 75 in Leipoldt and Grundmann, Umwelt
des Urchristentums.
429. Goodenough, Jewish Symbols, vol. 2, p. 230; also see pp.
212–13.
430. This judgment is shared with M. P. Nilsson; see his A History
of Greek Religion (New York, 1964 [2nd ed.]) pp. 292–93.
431.Phaedo 118; B. Jowett, The Dialogues of Plato, 2 vols. (New
York, 1937) vol. 1, p. 501.
5. The Full Spectrum of the Meaning of Serpent
Symbolism in the Fertile Crescent

1. See esp. J. Maringer, “Die Schlange in Kunst und Kult der

vorgeschichtlichen Menschen,” Anthropos 72 (1977) 881–920.
2. In the following presentation I am indebted especially to the
following: TDOT, TDNT, J. Campbell, assisted by M. J. Abadie, “The
Serpent Guide,” Mythic Image (Princeton, 1974) pp. 281–301; and M.
Lurker, “Snakes,” in The Encyclopedia of Religion, ed. M. Eliade (New
York, London, 1987) vol. 13, pp. 370–74.
3. See “Uphill Work,” Haaretz Online 18 March 2003.
4. The speaker was described only as “a teenage girl.” See N.
Angier, “Venomous and Sublime: The Viper Tells Its Tale,” New York
Times 10 December 2002; see
www.nytimes.com/2002/12/10/science/life/10VIPE.
5. See Appendix I and discussion of Seraphim.
6. Long ago, C. Fox drew attention to a Palestinian image of a
snake with ears and a bird’s beak. See Fox, “Circle and Serpent
Antiquities,” PEF (1894) 83–87.
7. See, notably, A. L. Frothingham, “Babylonian Origin of Hermes
the Snake-God, and of the Caduceus,” AJA, Second Series 20 (1916)
175–211. R. Ferwerda, “Le Serpent, le noeud d’Hercule et le Caducée
d’Hermès: Sur un passage orphique chez Athé-nagore,” Numen 20
(1973) 104–15.
8. I am grateful to Professor Yosef Garfinkel for showing me the
site. See his Sha’ar Hagolan: Neolithic Art in the Jordan Valley
(Jerusalem, 2002 [in Hebrew; this work is now being translated into
English]). Also see Garfinkel, The Yarmukians: Neolithic Art from
Sha’ar Hagolan (Jerusalem, 1999).
9. I am dependent on the following publications: K. Schmidt, “The
2002 Excavations at Göbekli Tepe (Southeastern Turkey)—
Impressions from an Enigmatic Site,” Neo-Lithics 2 (2002) 8–13;
Schmidt, “Frühe Tier und Menschen Bilder vom Göbekli Tepe,
Kampagne 1995–1998,” Istanbuler Mitteilungen 49 (1999) 5–21.
10. I am grateful to Dan Cohen for drawing my attention to the
snake reliefs at this Neolithic site.
11. Most experts have rightly followed R. Merhav’s argument that
Albright’s suggestion (in BASOR 31 [1928]) that a stele found at Tell
Beit Mirsim shows a serpent coming out of the ground is misleading.
See Merhav, “The Stele of the ‘Serpent Goddess’ from Tell Beit Mirsim
and the Plaque from Shechem Reconsidered,” IMJ 4 (1985) 27–42.
12. For pictures, see Garfinkel, Sha’ar Hagolan, pp. 70 and 83.
13. For pictures, see Garfinkel, Sha’ar Hagolan, pp. 163–65.
14. G. Zuntz rightly argues: “Anyone drawing or carving a line—any
line … therewith gives expression to some motive within himself; it
may be superficial and momentary (especially if he is mechanically
copying a model) or significantly expressive (especially if he is
decorating a temple).” Zuntz, Persephone: Three Essays on Religion
and Thought in Magna Graecia (Oxford, 1971) p. 26.
15.The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols, trans. J. Buchanan-Brown
(London, New York, 1996) p. 844.
16. See the reflections on these categories and the search for a
symbol’s meaning (or the confusion of a decoration with a symbol) by
R. W. Bagley in “Meaning and Explanation,” in The Problem of
Meaning in Early Chinese Ritual Bronzes, ed. R. Whitfield (London,
1993) pp. 34–55.
17. I can agree with Jung that the little girl had “very little religious
background” (p. 61), but she lived in our culture in which snakes are
dreaded both metaphorically and actually. Also his too literal
interpretation of “four corners” leads him into the precarious thought
that she must have had unconscious access to the quaternity myth
that was once familiar in Hermetic philosophy but disappeared well
over two hundred years ago. Jung, Man and His Symbols, p. 62.
18.“The images and ideas that dreams contain cannot possibly be
explained solely in terms of memory.” Jung, Man and His Symbols, p.
26.
19. Jung, Man and His Symbols, p. 25.
20. Jung, Man and His Symbols, pp. 56–57.
21. Jung, Man and His Symbols, p. 57.
22. Yet I am drawn, I hope not uncritically, to Jung’s insight that the
human does not come into this world with “a psyche that is empty,”
and that we should not “assume” that the human “is the only living
being deprived of specific instincts, or that his psyche is devoid of all
traces” of over three million years of evolution. Jung, Man and His
Symbols, p. 64. My own experiences reveal hidden fears that cannot
easily be attributed to what has occurred in my life during my sixty
years. Of course, I am convinced that human experience is open to
other dimensions, and that “God” (whatever that concept means in its
full sense) is the Creator who actively interacts and breaks into my
little world. If we all inherit DNA, then do we not inherit memories and
thought patterns from our ancestors?
23. L. Boltin, D. Newton, et al., Masterpieces of Primitive Art (New
York, 1978) p. 198. Also see the double-headed serpent shown in
highly stylized form in embroidery that comes from Peru, and around
the turn of the era (100 BCE to 200 CE), in color on p. 198.
24. J. Fergusson, Tree and Serpent Worship; or, Illustrations of
Mythology and Art in India in the First and Fourth Centuries After
Christ (London, 1868) p. 3.
25. G. E. Smith, The Migrations of Early Culture (Manchester,
1916); Smith, The Influence of Ancient Egyptian Civilization in the East
and in America (London, 1916). Even MacCulloch, with whom I share
many perspectives, was misled by Smith to think his analysis was
“fruitful.” ERE (1920) 11.399.
26. See D. Wildung and J. Liepe, Die Pharaonen des Goldlandes:
Antike Königreiche im Sudan (Mannheim, 1998). Note, in particular,
the following: p. 266 (see Illus. 43) the lion god Apelemuk has a body
of a serpent; p. 349 (= no. 410) first or second century CE; a serpent
on a pottery flask; no. 140, a serpent stele in black granite c. 1360
BCE; no. 168, Sphinx figure (670–660 BCE) with uraeus chiseled off;
no. 368, a gold bracelet with serpents’ heads on each end—the eyes
are clear; in the mouth of each is a small hole, probably for a gold
tongue; no. 32, Mercury with an ornate caduceus, one of the most
detailed I have found. The caduceus has a serpent clearly depicted
(the other one is off the frieze and worn away). Very interesting is no.
41. It shows a Mithra relief of about 250 CE, beneath and to the left of
a bull being slain by two men brandishing weapons. The iconography
is unique for Mithra shrines, and since the large serpent is drinking out
of a large bowl, it is conceivable, even probable, that Mithra
iconography has been influenced by Asclepius iconography. No. 21 is
a gravestone in gray sandstone, from Mainz and the second century
CE. It contains the figure of a male with two hands descending to his
pelvic area. There a large hole, descending downward, has been
chiseled. This person, Elima, the son of Solimutus, may have been
commemorated with an upraised phallus and with two hands holding it.
One is reminded of the mural to the right of the entrance to the House
of the Vetti in Pompeii.
27. As indicated previously, the faience Minoan goddesses may be
priestesses. The sensationalism of the Minoan excavations made
goddesses more attractive. A. Evans opined that the “Snake Goddess”
may be “an actual votary of priestess, whose ‘possession’ is thus
indicated.” Evans, The Palace of Minos (London, 1921) vol. 1.1, p.
233. The picture of the faience serpent goddesses shown earlier is of
professionally prepared models, as was indicated. The smaller serpent
goddess was found headless and everything from her left elbow
outward is a restoration. See the object before restoration in Evans,
The Palace of Minos, vol. 1, 3, Fig. 360, a and b on p. 502. The
restoration of a serpent in her left hand is speculative; it is based on
the serpent held in her right hand. Evans reported that the larger
woman (34.2 cm. [13.5 in.] high) has three coiled and spotted snakes
on her body. The snakes have greenish bodies that are spotted with
purple-brown. Evans, The Palace of Minos, vol. 1,3, pp. 500–501. I am
grateful to the American School of Classical Studies in Athens for
permission to work on Evans’ publications and note in the Blegen
Library.
28. On a visit to Hazor and the museum there in July 2002, I was
impressed by the massive Canaanite palace discovered during the
past eleven years by Professor A. Ben Tor and the serpent with dots
for skin found in Locus 226.30 Area A, dating from MB2 that was found
(Canaanite period; see photograph in Yadin’s volumes, photograph
CCCXIII13).
29. See the attractive drawings and photographs on pp. 146–50 in
H.-G. Buchholz, “Furcht vor Schlangen und Umgang mit Schlangen in
Altsyrien, Altkypros und dem Umfeld,” UF 32 (2000) 37–168.
30. For a drawing, see L. Keimer, Histoires de Serpents dans
I’Egypte ancienne et moderne (Cairo, 1947) p. 2.
31. Here I disagree with Plato and lean toward Aristotle; in fact, I
am a phenom-enologist influenced by Maurice Merleau-Ponty.
32. Eusebius, PG II.9 (101C); the translation is by E. H. Gifford in
Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel (Grand Rapids, 1981 [original is
by Clarendon Press, 1903]) p. 110.
33. Hercules was celebrated throughout Magna Graecia and
elsewhere in Italy; see the discussion of the serpent in the Hesperides
in A. Pontrandolfo, Le tombe dipinte di Paestum, ed. M. Cipriani
(Paestum [n.d.; 2003?]) esp. p. 27 (drawing).
34. See esp. M. Pagano, Herculaneum, trans. A. Pesce (Torre del
Greco, 2000) pp. 76, 82–83.
35. Eusebius, PG (112b); Gifford in Eusebius, Preparation for the
Gospel, p. 123. Also see Eusebius PG III.13 (119b-c); Gifford in
Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel, p. 131.
36. Eusebius, PG (112b); Gifford in Eusebius, Preparation for the
Gospel, p. 123.
37. Porphyry’s own views of the alleged powers of Asclepius and
Jesus are clear in Fragment 80; see W. Den Boer, Scriptorum
paganorum I-IVsaec. de christianis testimonia (Leiden, 1965) p. 32.
38. For Latin and Greek texts see R. Hercher, ed., Aeliani De
Natura Animalium (Paris, 1858); for the Greek and English translations
cited, see A. F. Scholfield, trans. and ed., Aelian: On Animals, 3 vols.
(LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1958, 1959).
39. My translation. Pliny (x.c.66) had written, “Anguem ex medulla
hominis sinae gigni accepimus a multis.”
40. In Appendix II, I have named this snake “Asian viper.”
41. Quite surprisingly, J. F. Nunn casually refers to the “dread with
which the ancient Egyptians regarded snakes.” See his Ancient
Egyptian Medicine (London, 1996) p. 107.
42. See J. Mann, Murder, Magic, and Medicine (Oxford, 1992) p.
39.
43. M. Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion (New York, 1958)
p. 164.
44. W. von Soden, “Verschlüsselte Kritik an Salomo in der
Urgeschichte des Jah-wisten?” WO 7 (1974) 2 2 8–40.
45. M. Görg, “Die ‘Sünde’ Salomos: Zeitkritische Aspekte der
jahwistischen Sün-denfallerzählung,” BN 16 (1981) 42–59; Görg,
“Weisheit als Provokation: Religionsgeschichtliche und theologische
Aspekte der Sünderfallerzählung,” in Die Kraft der Hoffnung
[Festschrift J. Schneider] (Bamberg, 1982) pp. 19–34.
46. See K. Holter, “The Serpent in Eden as a Symbol of Israel’s
Political Enemies: A Yahwistic Criticism of the Solomonic Foreign
Policy?” SJOT 1 (1990) 106–12.
47. Laubscher, “Der Schlangenwürgende Herakles: Seine
Bedeutung in der Herrscherikonologie,” Jdl 112 (1997) 149–66.
48. Consult A. Barash and J. H. Hoofien, Reptiles of Israel (Tel
Aviv, 1966 [Hebrew]). Also see the manual on the taxonomy and
distribution of venomous snakes in the Near and Middle East
published by U. Joger: The Venomous Snakes of the Near and Middle
East (Wiesbaden, 1984). The attractiveness of snakes may be due to
the fact that the mouths of many snakes form an alluring and inviting
smile (see esp. the drawings on pp. 89–95).
49. F. S. Bodenheimer, Animal Life in Palestine (Jerusalem, 1935)
p. 181. Also, see Bodenheimer, Animal and Man in Bible Lands, 2
vols. (Leiden, 1960, 1972). For images of the serpent, see esp. vol. 2,
Figures 19, 37.
50. I cannot now present and discuss the many serpent images
collected by Shlomo Moussaieff. I hope to publish his collection in the
near future, and am most grateful to him for his kindness and
generosity in showing me his many serpent images. Here is a
preliminary selection: (1) a clay image with a serpent raised up facing
a woman (Eve?). It is perhaps between 5,000 and 8,000 years old and
was found near Lake Van; (2) a ceramic piece similar to no. 1 but the
serpent is facing away from the woman; (3) a ceramic piece similar to
nos. 1 and 2; it has two serpents raised up and facing a woman; (4) a
clay image similar to nos. 1, 2, and 3 with three serpents that are
upraised; (5) a clay idol with two serpents on the head; it is perhaps
between 5,000 and 8,000 years old; (6) a large bronze snake (84.4 cm
long and about 10.5 cm wide) from Ptolemaic or Roman times. It was
found in Israel. (7) a small iron snake (base is 1617 cm and height is
10.8 cm.). It dates from Iron II, probably, and was allegedly found in
Wadi Masri in the southern Negev.
51. On discontinuity and continuity in ancient symbolism, with a
stress on the fifth and fourth centuries BCE, see M. Torelli, Il rango, il
rito e l’immagine (Milan, 1997) esp. pp. 8 and 194.
52. It is now unnecessary to demonstrate that iconography is
essential for exegesis. See esp. the numerous publications by Keel
already cited and B. A. Strawn, “Psalm 22:17b: More Guessing,” JBL
119 (2000) 439–51.
53. Much later even Maimonides recognized the importance of art
for relaxing and refreshing the mind. See Maimonides, The
Commandments, 2 vols., trans. C. B. Chavel (London, New York,
1967) vol. 2, p. 4.
 54. J. Maringer, “Die Schlange in Kunst und Kult der
vorgeschichtlichen Menschen,” Anthropos 72 (1977) 881–920; esp. p.
913.
55. I have transliterated the Ugaritic so nonspecialists might obtain
some insight into how the words might sound. Consult Dillmann’s
Lexicon; for texts, see Whitaker, A Concordance of the Ugaritic
Literature, pp. 159 and 446–47.
56. They are KTU 1.100 (= RS 1992.2014), KTU 1.107, RS 24.251
+, and RS 24.244. See B. A. Levine and J.-M. de Tarragon, “ ‘Shapshu
Cries out in Heaven’: Dealing with Snake-Bites at Ugarit (KTU 1.100,
1.107),” RB 94–95 (1988) 481–518; also consult D. Pardee in Context
1.295–98. The Ugaritic nhs ‘qsr (e.g. in 1.100 4, line 7) seems to
denote some type of snake; see Levine and Tarragon, op. cit., p. 495.
For further discussion, see J. N. Ford “The Ugaritic Incantations
Against Sorcery” (PhD diss., Jerusalem, 2002); see esp. p. 142. Much
of this dissertation is to appear in UF.
57. See esp. the Einblattdruck by Hans Hauser (Ulm, 1495).
58. In Midrash Ecclesiastes this verse is interpreted to refer to
anyone who “breaks down a fence erected by the Sages.” Such a
person will “eventually suffer penalties,” either in this age or in the
coming one. See H. Freedman and M. Simon, trans., Midrash Rabbah
(London, 1939) p. 28.
59. See J. A. Fitzmyer in Context 2.213–17. Also see W. Beyerlin,
Near Eastern Religious Texts Relating to the Old Testament, trans. J.
Bowden (London, 1978) p. 259.
60. Diodorus Siculus, Library of History 4.9.1–10. The date of this
work is sometime in the first century BCE.
61. See M. Albertoni et al., The Capitoline Museums, trans. D. A.
Arya and S. Mari (Rome, 2000); the picture is on p. 52.
62. See the image in D. Stillwell, ed., Antioch On-the-Orontes: III—
The Excavations 1937–1939 (Princeton, London, The Hague, 1941) p.
182 (discussion and description), and Plate 56 (black-and-white
photograph). Also see D. Levi, Antioch Mosaic Pavements (Princeton,
London, The Hague, 1947) vol. 2, Plate IV.
63. See the depiction of Laocoon’s wife on a fragment of a vase on
p. 144 in Buchholz, “Furcht vor Schlangen und Umgang mit Schlangen
in Altsyrien, Altkypros und dem Umfeld.”
 64.LivPro 2.3–4; translated by D. R. A. Hare in OTP 2.286–87.
65. Also see John Chrysostom, Homily 2.4: “For as the physicians
taking serpents and cutting off their destructive members, prepare
medicines for antidotes.” Trans. T. P. Brandram, “Homilies II and III: On
the Power of Man to Resist the Devil,” NPNF1 9, p. 189.
66. For the English translation and Latin text, see Celsus, De
Medicina, trans. W. G. Spencer (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass.,
1971) vol. 2.
67. TAb 19, Recension A; translated by E. P. Sanders in OTP
1.895.
68. J. Preuss, Biblical and Talmudic Medicine, ed. and trans. F.
Rosner (New York, 1978) chap. 5 and p. 569.
69. See G. M. Parässoglou, “A Christian Amulet Against
Snakebite,” SPap 13 (1974) 107–10. (P. Yale inv. 1792).
70. R. L’Estrange, The Life and Fables of EEsop, ed. S. Stern (New
York, 1970) p. 156.
71. Scene 5; 1051–54; S. Wells and G. Taylor et al., eds., William
Shakespeare: The Complete Works—Original-Spelling Edition
(Oxford, 1986) p. 363.
72. For further discussion, see H. Egli, “Der Drachenkampf,” Das
Schlangensymbol (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1982) pp. 194–56.
73. Professor Dr. Shimeon Gitter informed me of this fact. He is
one of the founders of the medical school at Tel Aviv University. He
also informed me that decades ago he discovered that the venom of a
cobra has more copper than zinc.
74. See, e.g., H. Brunner, “Seth und Apophis—Gegengötter im
ägyptischen Pantheon?” in Das Hörende Herz (Freiburg Schweiz,
1988) pp. 121–29. Also see Sauneron, Papyrus Brooklyn; Esna III, 32
§15; Esna V, 265 §14 and D. Kurth, “SUUM CUIQUE: Zum Verhältnis
von Dämon and Göttern im alten Ägypten,” in Die Dämonen, ed. A.
Lange, H. Lichtenberger, and K. F. D. Römheld (Tübingen, 2003) pp.
45–60; esp. p. 57.
75. See W. Robertson Smith, The Religion of the Semites (New
York, 1956) pp. 118–33.
76. For the Hebrew text and translation, see N. Slifkin, Nature’s
Song (Southfield, Mich., 2001) p. 35.
 77.3 Bar 5:3 (Greek and Slavonic); see OTP 1.668 and the trans.
H. E. Gaylord.
78.Beshallah, Exodus 4. J. T. Townsend, trans., Midrash Tanhuma
(S. Buber Recension) (Hoboken, N. J., 1997) vol. 2, p. 77.
79. E. A. Phillips points to the complexity of the “pre-texts” and
“inter-texts” in which the serpent appears; see her “Serpent Intertexts:
Tantalizing Twists in the Tales,” BBR 10 (2000) 233–45.
80. See the photographs and discussion in Y. Meshorer, Ancient
Means of Exchange: Weights and Coins (Haifa, 1998) pp. 76, 79, 95.
Also see L. Mildenberg, ed., The Abraham Bromberg Collection of
Jewish Coins, 2 parts (Zürich, 1991–1992); see esp. vol. 1, pp. 12
(Herod the Great’s bronze coin with winged caduceus), 14 (Herod
Archelaus’ bronze coin with caduceus); vol. 2, p. 9 (Herod the Great’s
bronze with winged caduceus [superb example]).
81. G. St. Clair, “The Subtle Serpent,” JTS 7 (1960) 40–50; the
quotation is from p. 40.
82. A. Luyster, “The Femme-aux-Serpents at Moissac: Luxuria
(Lust) or Bad Mother,” in Between Magic and Religion, ed. S. R.
Asirvatham et al. (Lanham, Md., Oxford, 2001) pp. 165–91.
83.“Draconibus et igne et serpentibus atque viperis circa colla
eorum.” The Latin text and English translation presented are by
Luyster, in Between Magic and Religion, pp. 176–77.
84. See the photographs and discussion in J. Charlesworth, ed.,
Jews and Christians (New York, 1990).
85. Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger (London, 1966).
86. G. Beckman in Context 1.150.
87. See J. W. van Henten, “Python,” in DDD 2669–71.
88. See the brilliant reflections by J. Z. Smith in “Towards
Interpreting Demonic Powers in Hellenistic and Roman Antiquity,”
ANRW II.16.1 (1978) 425–39.
89. Instrumenta Patristica 29; Turnhout, 1996.
90. Borsje, From Chaos to Enemy; for Apophis see pp. 118, 292,
297, for Behemoth pp. 30, 32, 117, 127, 191, 266, 304, for Cerberus
pp. 151, 302, and for Leviathan pp. 12, 30–39 esp. (et passim).
91. Beyerlin, Near Eastern Religious Texts Relating to the Old
Testament, p. 198.
 92. C. M. Brown, “A Natural History of the Gloucester Sea Serpent:
Knowledge, Power, and the Culture of Science in Antebellum
America,” American Quarterly (September 1990) 402–36; M. Meurger
and C. Gagnon, Lake Monster Traditions: A Cross-Cultural Analysis
(London, 1988).
93. J. P. O’Neill, The Great New England Sea Serpent: An Account
of Unknown Creatures Sighted by Many Respectable Persons
Between 1638 and the Present Day (Camden, Maine, 1999).
94. The snake is the lawless one, Satan. See Vita 33:3, LivPro
12:13, and ApMos 16:5.
95. J. Chevalier and A. Gheerbrant, The Penguin Dictionary of
Symbols (London, New York, 1996) p. 846.
96. See Wittkower, JWI 2 (1938–1939) 296. He draws attention to
S. Reinach, “Aetos Prometheus,” RAr 2 (1907) 65ff.
97. Aristotle thought that the forked tongue of a snake doubled the
pleasure of taste; cf. Part. an. 2.17 (660b); A. L. Peck, Aristotle: Parts
of Animals (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1961) pp. 202–3.
98. See D. Pardee in Context 1.327–28.
99. As cited by Chevalier and Gheerbrant in The Penguin
Dictionary of Symbols, p. 856.
100. Philo, QG 1.33.
101. E. Williams-Forte, “The Snake and the Tree in the
Iconography and Texts of Syria During the Bronze Age,” in Ancient
Seals and the Bible, ed. L. Gorelick and E. Williams-Forte (Malibu,
Calif., 1983) 18–43.
102. See S. Samek-Ludovici and H. Ravenna, Dante Göttliche
Komödie nach einer Handscrift aus dem 15. Jahrhundert, trans. P.
Aschner (Fribourg, Geneva, 1979) pp. 32–33.
103. Peter of Alexandria, The Genuine Acts of Peter; trans. J. B. H.
Hawkins, “Peter of Alexandria: The Genuine Acts of Peter,” ANF 6, p.
262.
104. Athanasius, To the Bishops of Egypt 1.19; trans. A.
Robertson, “On the Incarnation of the Word,” NPNF2 4, p. 233.
105.ApEl 5:33; trans. O. S. Wintermute in OTP 1.752.
106. The use of serpent imagery to illustrate base behavior is often
used in poetry. For example, Friedrich Hölderlin denounces one who
castigates his brother’s failure with “the loose mockery of the serpent’s
tongue [Schlangenzunge].” F. Hölderlin, Sämtliche Werke, p. 304.
107. Lane, An Arabic-English Lexicon, Book I, Part 1 (1863) p. 681.
108. Paul Ricoeur, Finitude et culpabilité (Paris, 1960) esp. pp.
236–43. Also see A. Wénin, “Satan ou l’adversaire de l’alliance: Le
serpent, père du mensonge,” Graphe 9 (2000) 23–43.
109. Act 1, line 191. Also see Act 3, line 1234 for the reference to
the poison of a viper. For the Greek, see A. S. Owen, ed., Euripides
Ion (Oxford, 1939, 1957). I am grateful to Dr. Kevin Glowacki of
Indiana University (who was at the American School of Classical
Studies at Athens when I was working on ophidian iconography); he
drew my attention to Ion.
110. See H. Goedicke, “The Snake in the Story of the Shipwrecked
Sailor,” Göttinger Miszellen 39 (1980) 27–31.
111. The eagle and serpent are sometimes used to complement
each other, bringing together the tension between good and evil. See
Ye. V. Antonova, “The ‘Serpent’ and the ‘Eagle’ in the Glyptics of the
Oxus Civilization,” Journal of Ancient History 2 (2000 [Moscow]) 46–52
(Russian).
112. In this passage, the “dragon” is most likely the river crocodile.
113. A use of language found in J. D. Ray, “Egyptian Wisdom
Literature,” in Wisdom in Ancient Israel: Essays in Honour of J. A.
Emerton, ed. J. Day, R. P. Gordon, and H. G. M. Williamson
(Cambridge, 1995) p. 17. Also see F. V. Greifenhagen, Egypt on the
Pentateuch’s Ideological Map (London, New York, 2002).
114. A. Perrot, “L’homme aux serpents,” Syria 28 (1951) 57–61.
115. See E. Porada, “A Man with Serpents,” in Von Uruk nach
Tuttul [Festschrift E. Strommenger], ed. B. Hrouda et al. (Munich,
Vienna, 1992) pp. 171–75 and Plates 72–78. Also see Porada, Man
and Images in the Ancient Near East (Wakefield, R.I., London, 1995)
esp. pp. 39–47.
116. L’Estrange, The Life and Fables of EEsop, p. 112 (with original
italics, punctuations, and capitalizations).
117. See Foster in Context 1.390–402.
118. H. Leclercq, “Serpent,” DACL 15 (1950) 1353.
 119. See R. Schulz and K. Sabri Kolta, “Schlangen, Skorpione und
feindliche Mächte: Ein koptisch-arabische Schutzspruch,” BN 93
(1998) 89–104.
120. See ibid.
121. See the summary by R. S. J. Typwhitt, “Serpent,” DCA vol. 2,
1889.
122. See Typwhitt, “Dragon,” DCA vol. 1, pp. 579–80. In this
publication and the one mentioned previously, Typwhitt errs in drawing
a too rigid distinction between serpent and dragon; as we have seen,
the two terms are interchangeable in texts and iconography (beginning
in the second millennium BCE).
123. I. J. Gelb et al., eds., The Assyrian Dictionary (Chicago, 1962)
pp. 148–50.
124. B. Meissner and W. von Soden, Akkadisches Handwörterbuch
(Wiesbaden, 1981) vol. 3, p. 1093.
125. I am grateful to A. Biran for discussing the discoveries with me
and clarifying that the three pithoi have now been found at Dan. See
Biran, Biblical Dan, pp. 152–53, 165–77.
126. Act 1, line 191. For the Greek, see Owen, Euripides Ion, ad
loc.
127. See J. G. Frazer, ed., Apollodorus (LCL; London, New York,
1921) pp. 84–85.
128. F. Hvidberg, “The Canaanite Background of Gen I-III,” VT 10
(1960) 285–94.
129. See, inter alia, T. M. Probatake, The Devil in Byzantine
Culture (Thessaloniki, 1980 [in modern Greek]).
130.LivPro 12:13; trans. D. R. A. Hare in OTP 2.394.
131.Vita 33:1–3; trans. M. D. Johnson in OTP 2.272.
132.ApMos 16:1–5; trans. M. D. Johnson in OTP 2.277.
133. For mature reflections on symbology and ontology and the
language of symbols in terms of an intentionality that is intelligent,
rational, and moral, see S. Muratore, “Simbolo, mistero e mito: Il
quadro epistemologico,” in La conoscenza simbolica, ed. C. Greco and
S. Muratore (Milan, 1998) pp. 9–39.
134. Except for haplography, or removal of supposed
redundancies, the scribes have offered us no verbal variants. They
well knew what had been written.
135. See, notably, C. Sailer’s Der Feldzug der Schlange und das
Wirken der Taube: Die Gottesprophetie der Zeitenwende (Würzburg,
1998).
136. F. Majdalawi, ed., The Noble Qur’an (Brattleboro, Vt., 1999
[1412]) p. 153. Also see “Tä-Hä” XVI:20.120–21.
137. See Baudissin, “Die Symbolik der Schlange im Semitismus,
insbesondere im Alten Testament,” Studien zur Semitischen
Religionsgeschichte, Heft 1 (Leipzig, 1876) pp. 279–81.
138. See esp. K. van der Toorn, “The Theology of Demons,” in Die
Dämonen, pp. 65–66.
139. See F. Matchett, “The Taming of Käliya: A Comparison of the
Harivamsa, Visnu-Puräna and Bhägavata-Puräna Versions,” Religion
16 (1986) 115–33.
140. The translation is by J. M. Baumgarten and D. Schwartz and
published in Damascus Document, War Scroll, and Related
Documents (Tübingen, 1995) vol. 2, p. 29.
141. In addition to the major works already cited, see E. Georgoula,
gen. ed., Greek Jewelry, trans. T. Cullen et al. (Athens, 1999). See
especially the following: a volute krater with a picture of a flute-playing
Maenad wearing a snake bracelet on each arm (c. 410 BCE; Fig. 98);
a pair of solid silver snake bracelets (fifth cent. BCE; Fig. 99); a solid
silver bracelet ending with two snake heads with impressive details
(fifth cent. BCE; Fig. 101); heavy silver bracelets with a pair of snakes
(fifth cent. BCE; Fig. 102); a pair of solid silver earrings with loops in
four snake heads (perhaps fifth cent. BCE; Fig. 103); pair of gold
serpent bracelets—the serpents have marvelously detailed skins,
head, mouth, and eyes (late Hellenistic Period; Fig. 174); gold bracelet
with two ornate and sophisticated snake heads (second cent. BCE;
Fig. 175); a gold snake ring with exceptional details of eyes, skin, and
raised head (first cent. BCE or CE; Fig. 176); gold snake bracelet with
amazing details of eyes, head, scales, and undulating tail section (first
cent. CE; Fig. 177); Isis and Serapis Agathadaimon with snake bodies
(Roman Period; Fig. 178); pair of gold bracelets with long serpent body
and tail (first cent. BCE; Fig. 179); gold bracelet with two snake heads,
exquisitely crafted with emerald in mouths and glass gems in eyes
(first cent. CE; Fig. 184); and a gold Medusa medallion (second cent.
CE; Fig. 188).
 142. See D. Fotopoulos and A. Delivorrias, Greece at the Benaki
Museum (Athens, 1997). Note especially the following: the gold
bracelet with a serpent showing artistic and realistic details (first cent.
BCE; no. 276); a gold ring in the form of a snake with detailed skin
(first cent. BCE or CE; no. 284); gold chain necklace with the head of
Medusa (second cent. CE; no. 279); and gold earrings, each with two
serpents, boasting sapphires and pearls; from Antinoe, Egypt (fifth
cent. CE; no. 366).
143. In addition to the ones already discussed, see the discussion
and photographs in Maulucci, The National Archaeological Museum of
Naples, pp. 66–67.
144. For the English translation, see A. C. Coxe ANF 2.269. For
the Greek, see O. Stählin and U. Treu, Clemens Alexandrinus (Berlin,
1972) 1.231.
145. See N. I. Fredrikson, “La métaphore du sel et du serpent chez
Aphraate, le Sage persan,” RHR 219 (2002) 35–54.
146.LivPro 12:13; trans. D. R. A. Hare in OTP 2.394.
147. See the rabbinic sources collected by H. N. Bialik and Y. H.
Ravnitzky and cited under “The Serpent and Sin,” in The Book of
Legends: Sefer Ha-Aggadah, trans. W. G. Braude (New York, 1922)
pp. 20–21.
148. Archelaus, The Acts of the Disputation with the Heresiarch
Manes 18; trans. S. D. F. Salmond, ANF 6, p. 191.
149. I am told it is unpublished. It is on public display on the second
floor of the museum that is on the north side of the Acropolis in
Athens.
150. See I. Tetzlaff, Romanische Kapitelle in Frankreich: Löwe and
Schlange, Sireene und Engel (Cologne, 1979 [3rd ed.]), Illus. 67, Illus.
69, 70; see esp. pp. 99100. The lion defeating the serpent is also
featured in the sculpture by Antoine-Louis Barye (1833). See T. Flynn,
The Body of Scripture (1998). In the Museo Arcivescovile in Ravenna
is a depiction of Jesus Christ stepping on the heads of both a lion and
a serpent. The Fourth Gospel is quoted (ego sum via veritas et vita).
See the illustration in G. Scaramuzza, G. Risegato, and C. Sterzi,
Ravenna Felix (Ravenna, 1968) p. 23.
151. Aristotle incorrectly thought that large snakes close their eyes
by using “the lower lid” (Part. an. 4.11 [691a]).
 152. Etana, the first king mentioned in the Sumerian King list, is
associated with a myth about an eagle and a serpent. The eagle
defeats the serpent and carries Etana up into the heavens. See the
discussion in G. S. Kirk, Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient
and Other Cultures (Cambridge, 1970) pp. 125–26.
153. R. Wittkower, “Eagle and Serpent: A Study in the Migration of
Symbols,” JWI 2 (1938–1939) 293–325; esp. see the numerous
photographs. I am grateful to the specialists at the Warburg Institute in
London for helping me with my research into serpent symbolism. In his
lengthy and erudite publication, Wittkower attempted to show that this
symbol migrated. I am more persuaded that seeing an eagle swoop
down and pick up a snake, especially a deadly one, was a common
experience of humankind and, thus, the image does not have to be
traced from the Mediterranean world to the Americas. There is no
doubt that the iconography and culture of Babylon, Egypt, Greece, and
Rome consecutively influenced symbolism in the land of Canaan and
the Bible.
154. Ibid., photograph on p. 53.
155. MacCulloch, ERE 11.407.
156. In Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem on “Schlangen-Beschwörung”
we find again the fear of the serpent:
Dich feien keine Kräfte, / die Sonne gärt, das Fieber Fällt und trifft; /
von böser Freude steilen sich die Schäfte, / und in den Schlangen
glänzt das Gift. See R. M. Rilke, Die Gedichte (Himberg, Austria,
1986) p. 540.
157. See “Reptiles,” in The New Encyclopaedia Britannica:
Micropaedia (1992) vol. 26, p. 688.
158. Plutarch, Alexander 3.1–2(1); as cited by V. K. Robbins in
Ancient Quotes and Anecdotes (Sonoma, Calif., 1989) p. 2.
159. The serpent dance by Nijinsky depicts the serpent as the
tempter in a choreo-graphically moving fashion. See the erotic and
tempting movements of the serpent as pictured in A. Béjart, M. Béjart,
and V. Markevitch, Nijinsky: Clown de Dieu (Paris, 1973); no
pagination, but see the middle of the book. Paul Valéry’s book Die
junge Parze sometimes appears with a serpent wrapped around a
column, and the 1922 edition of Shakespeare’s Tragedy of Cymbeline
has as a title page a serpent stretched out under a picture of a woman.
See the illustrations in U. Ott and F. Pfäfflin, eds., “Fremde Nähe”:
Celan als Übersetzer (Marbach am Neckar, 1997) on pp. 281 and 418.
The ballet based on Jean Cau, not John Milton, called Paradise Lost,
depicts the first human’s birth. With the appearance of the Serpent,
“Eve” twists seductively so that Adam evidences sexual aggression,
until he dances then jumps into a large mouth seen to belong to Eve.
See G. Balanchine and F. Mason, Balanchine’s Festival of Ballet
(London, 1978) p. 410.
160. H. Breuil, Quatre cents siècles d’art pariétal (Montignac,
1952).
161. See H. Licht, Sexual Life in Ancient Greece (London, 1932)
pp. 221–22.
162. Translated by H. Anderson in OTP 2.563.
163. This conceptual link between Paul and the author of 4 Mac
was pointed out long ago by M. Dibelius in Die Geisterwelt im Glauben
des Paulus (Göttingen, 1909) pp. 50–51.
164. R. H. Isaacs, Animals in Jewish Thought and Tradition
(Northvale, N.J., 2000) p. 42. There is certainly much insightful
information summarized, in a popular fashion, in Isaacs’ book.
165. P. Haupt, “The Curse on the Serpent,” JBL 35 (1916) 155–62;
the quotation is on p. 162.
166. Buchholz, “Furcht vor Schlangen und Umgang mit Schlangen
in Altsyrien, Alt-kypros und dem Umfeld;” “Im biblischen Volksglauben
waren Schlangen unrein und umgenießbar” (p. 40).
167. See esp. Hunger, Der Äskulapstab.
168. See the excellent artwork displayed in the Archaeological
Museum of Naples; it dates from the fourth century BCE.
169. See R. van den Broek, “Apollo,” in DDD 274–77.
170. See the marble statue of Apollo with his tripod, around which
a snake is curled, in the Beirut National Museum; for a photograph,
see N. Jidejian, Lebanon: Its Gods, Legends and Myths (a special
printing of Banque Aud [Suisse], n.d.) p. 47.
171. For a discussion and images of goddesses with snakes, see
L. Goodison and C. Morris, eds., Ancient Goddesses (London, 1998)
see esp. pp. 86, 98, 123–32, 153.
172. See K. Koch, Geschichte der ägyptischen Religion (Stuttgart,
Berlin, 1993) pp. 495–96.
173. Galen, De simplicum medicamentorum temperamentis et
facultatibus 9; see P. Carus, The History of the Devil and the Idea of
Evil (New York, 1996; originally published in 1900) pp. 227–28. Carus’
work is severely dated.
174. The tripod of three entwined bronze serpents held a golden
bowl. The object was taken to Constantinople by Constantine; parts of
the bronze column can be seen in the Hippodrome Square before
Hagia Sophia. As R. D. Barnett suggested, the Greek work was
probably modeled on a Persian prototype, and a “connection of ideas
between this group and the Greek votive tripod must surely be
presumed.” There seems to be some linkage, since the Elamite snake
god does sit on a tripod with two entwined snakes (perhaps a third was
hidden from view). Barnett, “The Serpent-Headed Tripod Base,” ErIsr
19 (1987) 1. Also see B. S. Ridgway, “The Plataian Tripod and the
Serpent Columns,” AJA 81 (1977) 374–79. See the reconstruction of
the tripod on p. 163 in Buchholz, “Furcht vor Schlangen und Umgang
mit Schlangen in Altsyrien, Altkypros und dem Umfeld.”
175. Inv. No. 9420. It is bronze, hollow cast, and a protome. It
dates from the end of the Archaic Period or the first half of the fifth
century BCE. It is 26 cm long. I am grateful to Dr. Elena C. Partida,
archaeologist at Delphi, for pointing out this bronze ophidian object.
She is the author of The Treasures at Delphi: An Architectural Study
(Jonsered, 2000). No ophidian objects were found at the area
dedicated to Asclepius. No serpents should be expected to be found in
or near the Temple of Apollo; he vanquished the python. Serpent realia
found in situ at Delphi include the following: a snake ring-handle for a
large cauldron (No. 2655), a bronze helmet showing an eagle with a
serpent in its claws (no number available), three snakes on Athena’s
garment in the frieze of the treasury of Siphnos (525 BCE), a serpent
handle for an oinoterion (no number), and another bronze handle with
two snakes on the back (No. 4456). A gold Medusa holding two
snakes was once part of a chryselephantine statue; see the color
photograph in M. Carabatea, The Archaeological Museum of Delphi,
trans. M. Carabatea (Athens, no date) p. 104, a.
176. The archaeologist at Delphi, Dr. Elena C. Partida, discussed
serpent symbolism at Delphi with me. Virtually no evidence remains; in
contrast to Epidaurus, the serpent was not worshipped at Delphi.
Apollo slew the evil snake here. There is also no archaeological
evidence for the Asclepian cult at Delphi mentioned by Plutarch.
177. See Herodotus, Hist. 8.41. Also see J. A. St. John, The
History of the Manners and Customs of Ancient Greece, 3 vols.
(London, 1842 [reprinted in 1971]) vol. 1 p. 83; cf. vol. 1, p. 363 and
vol. 3, p. 209.
178.HelSynPr 12:31; trans. D. R. Darnell in OTP 2.691.
179. I define “the religion of Israel” to be broader than “the theology
of the Old Testament (or TANAKH).”
180. See, e.g., the four silver-gilt Seraphim on the Book of Gospels
(1645 CE) in the Monastery of Saint Stephen in Meteora. For color
photographs (Monastery of St. Stephen), The Treasures of the
Monastery of Saint Stephen, trans. D. Whitehouse (Meteora, 1999);
see pp. 48–49.
181. See, e.g., T. M. Provatakis, Meteora: History of the
Monasteries and Monasticism (Athens, 1991) pp. 7, 10.
182. Sister Theotekni, Meteora: The Rocky Forest of Greece, trans.
Mrs. Despina (Meteora, 1986); see esp. pp. 9, 229; on p. 11 a “T,” like
a cross, with four flowers and wings, has a serpent curling up it (as if
representing Num 21 and Jn 3).
183. See Aristotle, Hist. an. 4.4 (770a); A. L. Peck, Aristotle:
Generation of Animals (LCL; London, Cambridge, Mass., 1943) pp.
422–423.
184. Notably, see D. Young, “With Snakes and Dates: A Sacred
Marriage Drama at Ugarit,” UF 9 (1977) 291–314, and R. Coote, “The
Serpent and Sacred Marriage in Northwest Semitic Tradition,” HTR 65
(1972) 594–95.
185. Eusebius, PG (114d); the translation is by Gifford in Eusebius,
Preparation for the Gospel, p. 125.
186. See K. Kerenyi, Dioniso: Archetipo della vita indistruttibile, ed.
M. Kerenyi (Milan, 1992); see esp. pp. 69–82. Dionysus symbolized for
the Greeks wine, the bull, women, and the serpent (see p. 69).
187. See A. Dieterich, Eine Mithrasliturgie (Leipzig, 1903) pp. 125–
26 and Küster, Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und Religion,
p. 147.
188. See the coin with Antony and Octavian (obv) and the cysta
mystica (rev) that is flanked by two large serpents (No. 608), and
Antony (obv) and cysta mystica (rev) that is with two serpents (No.
607). For the photographs, see R. E. Levy and P. C. V. Bas-tien,
Roman Coins in the Princeton University Library (Wetteren, Belgium,
1985).
 189. Consult Küster, Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und
Religion, p. 149. For a superb summary of the various meanings of
ophidian symbols to which I am indebted, see J. A. MacCulloch, ERE
(1920) 11.399–411.
190. Eusebius, PG II.3 (67a-b); see Gifford, trans., Eusebius,
Preparation for the Gospel, p. 73.
191. Ibid.
192. Clement of Alexandria, Exhortation to the Heathen 2; trans.
Coxe in ANF 2, p. 175. See G. W. Butterworth, Clement of Alexandria
(LCL; Cambridge, Mass., 1919).
193. In Greece and Egypt, Bes and in Babylon Nergal are
portrayed with a phallus that is a serpent.
194. See A. Esser, “Asklepios und Schlange,” FF 24 (1948) 196–
98.
195. I am influenced by the interpretation of Frazer; see J. G.
Frazer, The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion, 12 vols.
(London, 1911–1915 [3rd ed.]) vol. 5, p. 81.
196. On Artemis, see G. Mussies, “Artemis,” in DDD 291–97.
197. The image appears in many books; see, e.g., G. P. Carratelli,
ed., I Greci in Occidente (Milan, 1996) p. 61.
198. See the Archeologico Regionale Cat. 362; Agrigento Museo.
For a photograph, see Carratelli, I Greci in Occidente, p. 426.
199. A. M. Hocquenghem, “Les ‘crocs’ et les ‘serpents’: L’autorité
absolue des ancêtres mythiques,” in Representations of Gods, ed. H.
G. Kippenberg (Leiden, 1983) pp. 58–74.
200. This is a point made by M. Hutter in “Schlange,” in LTK
(Freiburg, 2000) vol. 9, col. 153.
201. Küster, Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und Religion,
pp. 137–53.
202. The ceramic pot is 21.5 cm wide (including handles), 12.5 cm
high; the diameter, inside, of the opening is 14.4 cm.
203. See M.-L. and H. Erlenmeyer, “Über Schlangen-Darstellungen
in der frühen Bildkunst des Alten Orients,” AfO 23 (1970) 52–62.
204. Cf. Aristotle’s use of “footless” (àreouç); esp. see Parts of
Animals 4.1 [676a], 4.11 [690b], and 4.13 [697a] and Progression of
Animals 4 [705b], 8 [708a]; A. L. Peck, Aristotle: Parts of Animals,
Movements of Animals, Progression of Animals (LCL; London,
Cambridge, Mass., 1961) pp. 302–3, 392–93, 426–27, and 492–93,
504–7.
205. Egli, Das Schlangensymbol, pp. 31–58.
206. See esp. W. R. Halliday, Greek Divination (London, 1913) p.
90.
207. W. Foerster, “őφις,” TDNT 5 (1967) 571. I shall later discuss
Foerster’s misrepresentation of snakes and serpent symbolism.
208. See J. Feliks, “Snake,” in EncJud 15 (1971) cols. 14–15.
209. Also, one should not forget the serpent images on coins
minted at Pergamon in the second and first centuries BCE. See, e.g.,
P. R. Franke, “Die Münzsammlung der Universität Erlangen-Nürnberg,”
AA 82 (1967) 67–92; esp. see the images on p. 83. For the Pergamon
altar see esp. M. Kunze, The Pergamon Altar (Mainz, 1991) and E.
Rohde, Pergamon: Burgberg und Altar (Berlin, 1976).
210. Agrippa was the son-in-law of Augustus; the Odeion was
erected in about 15 BCE. Today one can see three of the original six
huge Giants with anguipedes.
211.[Anonymous], “Fiery Serpents,” PEF (January 1929) 58.
212. See Angier, “Venomous and Sublime,”
www.nytimes.com/2002/12/10/science/life/10VIPE.
213. See P. Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue
Grecque: Histoire des Mots (Paris, 1968) p. 842.
214. See the comments in The New Encyclopaedia Britannica:
Macropaedia, vol. 26, p. 692.
215. Another example appears to come from the beginning of third-
century CE Ephesus; see H. Vetters, “Der Schlangengott,” in Studien
zur Religion und Kultur Kleinasiens [Festschrift F. K. Dörner] (Leiden,
1978) pp. 967–79.
216. The well-preserved Greek sculpture is on display in the
Naples Archaeological Museum; see the photograph in F. P. Maulucci,
The National Archaeological Museum of Naples (Naples, [2000?; no
date]) p. 12. I am grateful to Professor Marcello del Verme for
obtaining permission for me to work in the Naples Archaeological
Museum.
 217. G. Degeorge, Palmyre (Paris, 2001). See the color
photograph on p. 195.
218. In The Epitome of the Divine Institutes 27, Lactantius calls the
serpent “one of the servants of God.”
219. I refer to a section of b. Sanh. 59b that is a Baraita.
220. R. Gersht in Illness and Healing in Ancient Times, trans. M.
Rosovsky (Haifa, 1997 [2nd ed.]) p. 10.
221. Plutarch, Demosthenes 845; for the Greek and English
translation, see H. N. Fowler, Plutarch’s Moralia (LCL; Cambridge,
Mass., London, 1936) pp. 418–19.
222. The noun oiipaîoç, “chieftain,” is a loanword from Egypt; it is
not related etymologically to oiipct, “tail.”
223. See esp. S. B. Johnson, The Cobra Goddess of Ancient
Egypt: Predynastic, Early Dynastic, and Old Kingdom Periods
(London, New York, 1990) pp. 3–33.
224. W. A. Ward, “The Four-winged Serpent on Hebrew Seals,”
RSO 42 (1968) 135–43; see esp. p. 143.
225. Egli, Das Schlangensymbol, pp. 119–43.
226.aqys aywjd in 13; cf. 58. The Greek recension has “the
ravenous serpent” in 13 and “the fearful serpent” in 58. See J. Ferreira,
The Hymn of the Pearl (Sydney, 2002).
227. I am influenced by T. H. Gaster’s “The Serpent as Guardian,”
Myth, Legend, and Custom in the Old Testament (New York, 1969) p.
35.
228. See the color photograph in S. Shifra and J. Klein, In Those
Distant Days: Anthology of Mesopotamian Literature in Hebrew (Tel
Aviv, 1996 [in Hebrew]) in the color section following p. 504.
229. For text and translation, see D. R. Frayne’s article in JAOS
102 (1982) 511–13.
230. See the sources cited by L. W. King in A History of Babylon
(New York, 1914) p. 72.
231. M. Lichtheim in Context 1.77.
232. Lichtheim in Context 1.82.
233. See the photograph in R. Hachlili and Y. Meshorer, Highlights
from the Collection of the Reuben and Edith Hecht Museum (Haifa,
1986, 1990) p. 55.
234. The limestone capital is on display in the Limassol Museum.
For photographs, see P. Aupert, Guide to Amathus, trans. D. Buitron-
Oliver and A. Oliver (Nicosia, 2000) p. 29 and back cover.
235. Plutarch, Demosthenes 26.6–7 (4–5); as cited by Robbins in
Ancient Quotes and Anecdotes, p. 411.
236. See Cook, Zeus, vol. 2, part 2, pp. 1060–61 and Fig. 914 on
p. 1061.
237. See L. Bodson, “Nature et fonctions des serpents d’Athéna,”
in Mélanges Pierre Lévêque, edited by M.-M. Mactoux and E. Geny
(Paris, 1990) pp. 45–62.
238. Museo Archeologico di Pithecusae; Case 34, no. 1 (Inv.
166442).
239. See M. L. Robert, “Dans une maison d’Éphèse: Un serpent et
un chiffre,” CRAI, 126–32; esp. see p. 129.
240. I. Malkin devotes two of his four paragraphs on the “snake” to
stress only the guardian aspect of ophidian symbolism in Greece, as if
it were more important or dominant than others, such as healing in the
Asclepian cult (which he mentions in one sentence). See “snakes,” in
OCD, pp. 1417–18.
241. See the photograph of Bernini’s masterpiece in The Capitoline
Museums (p. 112); it emphasizes the menacing snakes.
242. See, e.g., D. Leeming with M. Leeming, A Dictionary of
Creation Myths (New York, Oxford, 1995); see esp. pp. 5, 7, 21, 39, et
passim.
243. See Winter, Frau und Göttin; esp. see Illus. 37, 42, 123, 124,
355, 359, 379, and 469.
244. See B. L. Goff, Symbols of Prehistoric Mesopotamia (New
Haven, London, 1963). Also, consult K. G. Stevens, De iconografie
van de slang in Mesopotamia vanaf het vijfde millennium voor Christus
tot het einde van de Akkadische periode, Magisterarbeit, 2 vols.
[unpublished dissertation, 1984; see the following entry]; and Stevens,
“Eine Ikonographische Untersuchung der Schlange im
Vorgeschichtlichen Mesopotamien,” in Archaeologia Iranica et
Orientalis: Miscellanea in Honorem Louis Vanden Berghe, ed. L. De
Meyer and E. Haerninck (Leuven, 1989) 1–32.
245. A. Falkenstein, W. von Soden, Sumerische und akkadische
Hymnen und Gebete (Stuttgart, 1953).
246. See esp. C. Hentze, “Die Zerstückelte Schlange,” Antaios 9
(1968) 253–61.
247. I have avoided the use of words like oviparity (egg laying) and
ovoviviparity (egg hatching) because the terms seem onerous in the
present work and because such distinctions prove to be misleading
and arbitrary.
248. Beyerlin, Near Eastern Religious Texts Relating to the Old
Testament, p. 7.
249. Beyerlin, ibid., p. 12.
250. See, e.g., G. Infusino, “La creazione del mondo,” Storia, miti e
leggende dei Campi Flegrei (Naples, 1995) pp. 70–77. See esp. the
modern depiction of Eurinome embraced by the great serpent Ofione
on p. 73.
251. Cairo Museum no. 1321.
252. See A. Piankoff, The Shrines of Tut-ankh-amon, ed. N.
Rambova (New York, 1955) vol. 2, p. 120 (italics removed); for the
exterior left panel, see Fig. 41. Also see the Ouroboros in the papyrus
of Her-Uben A; see Fig. 3 in Piankoff, trans., Mythological Papyri:
Texts, ed. N. Rambova (New York, 1957) vol. 1, p. 22.
253. Eusebius PG 40c; ibid.
254. See Keel, The Symbolism of the Biblical World, p. 188.
255. See the comments about the Menorah by C. Meyers, The
Tabernacle Menorah (Missoula, Mont., 1976) and “Lampstand,” AYBD
4.141–43.
256. For a discussion of the base and the controversial use of
images, see M. Haran and H. Strauss, “Menorah,” EncJud (1971)
11.1363–66. One cannot be certain that the base is original;
conceivably, it was added by a Roman artist as it traveled to Rome or
in Rome. Yet it is equally conceivable that Herod had the base added,
perhaps to repair it.
257. See Haran and Strauss, “Menorah,” EncJud (1971) 11.1355–
70; esp. Fig. 1 beneath cols. 1355–56.
258. See the menorah with an apparent snake beneath and to the
left of it on a stone from the catacomb Vigna Randanini. See E. R.
Goodenough, “The Menorah Among Jews of the Roman World,”
HUCA 23 (1950–1951) vol. 2, pp. 449–92; esp. Fig. 7.
259. Shiva is also one of the gods who achieve life in dying.
Serpent iconography and symbology help the devotee to symbolize
Shiva. See D. Shulman, “The Serpent and the Sacrifice: An Anthill
Myth from Tiruvärür,” HR 18 (1978) 107–37.
260. On the power of the serpent, see L. Silburn, “Il serpente del
profondo,” La kundalinl o l’energia del profondo, trans. F. Sferra (Milan,
1997) pp. 39–52, 401.
261. See the reflections by G. Krishna in Kundalini: L’Energia
evolutiva nell’uomo (Rome, 1971 p. 57.
262. The word “bradisismo” (etymologically Greek) denote the rise
and fall of the land due to seismic and volcanic forces (“le oscillazioni
alternanti della costa terrestre”) in and near Pozzuoli, which is a
northwestern suburb of Naples. See M. Sirpettino, Il bradisismo di
Pozzuoli (Naples, 1983). The Italian is from this book, p. 19. The
Greeks called the area Campi Flegrei, “burning fields.” It was a special
area for the early Romans, especially Nero and the Flavians. See G.
Infusino, Storia, miti e leggende dei Campi Flegrei (Naples, 1995). The
serpent symbol is grounded in myths and legends of this area, which is
so charming that Horace could write, nullus in orbis sinus Bais
praelucit amoenis: “Nowhere on earth is a gulf as lovely as the
pleasant Baiae.”
263. S. Muratore has been focusing on the modern advances in
cosmology and their impact on theology. See his L’Evoluzione
cosmologica e il problema di Dio (Rome, 1993).
264. M. Lurker in ER 13. 372.
265. Translated by R. K. Ritner in Context 1. 32.
266. See L. Kâkosy, “The Astral Snakes of the Nile,” MDAI 37
(1981) 255–60. I am grateful to Professor David Aune for this
reference.
267. Keel, The Symbolism of the Biblical World, pp. 26–27.
268. R. S. Hendel, in DDD 2745.
269. See, e.g., E. Hornung, Idea into Image: Essays on Ancient
Egyptian Thought, trans. E. Bredeck (Princeton, 1992) pp. 49–67.
270. A. H. Krappe, La genèse des mythes (Paris, 1952) p. 18.
271. See e.g., J. Bailey, K. McLeish, and D. Spearman, eds., “The
Rainbow Snake,” Gods and Men: Myths and Legends from the World’s
Religions (Oxford, New York, 1981) pp. 12–15.
272. For sources and discussions, see MacCulloch in ERE 11.408.
273. LSJM, p. 448; Lane, An Arabic-English Lexicon Book I, Part 1
(1863) p. 681; R. Payne Smith, Thesaurus Syriacus (Oxford, 1879)
vol. 1, col. 1210; Glare, Oxford Latin Dictionary (1982, 1988) 1744–45.
274.Commentary on Virgil’s Georgics 1.205. I am indebted to G. St.
Clair for this citation. See his “The Subtle Serpent,” JTS 7 (1906) 40–
50.
275. Vatican Museum, Rome; for a color photograph, see J. Martin,
Das alte Rom (Munich, 1994) pp. 390–91.
276. See U. Holmberg, Der Baum des Lebens (Bern, 1996) p. 82,
Abb. 34.
277. Epiphanius, Pan. 26.40.
278. H. Jonas, Gnosis und spätantiker Geist (Göttingen, 1934) pp.
221–62. Also see Jonas, The Gnostic Religion (Boston, 1963 [rev.
ed.]) pp. 91–97.
279. See the picture in Charlesworth, “Jewish Interest in Astrology
During the Hellenistic and Roman Period,” ANRW II 20.2 (1987) 926–
50.
280. See Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride 74; also see A. Dieterich,
Eine Mithraslitur-gie, p. 71.
281. See the sculpture in the Capitoline museums; see the picture
in The Capitoline Museums, p. 58.
282. My italics; as quoted by Wittkower, JWI 2 (1938–1939) p. 325.
283. For this and the preceding quotation respectively see L. E.
Stager, “Jerusalem and the Garden of Eden,” pp. 183 and 188–189.
284. About 1,500 figurines have been found in Jerusalem, dating
from the eighth century BCE. Images of a hyena, gazelle, ibex,
hippopotamus, sheep, and cow have been discovered. Most images
are horses. No snake has been recovered from controlled excavations,
according to my knowledge.
285. See the reflections by J. E. Saraceni and the report from the
Archaeological Institute of America in
http://www.archaeology.org/9611/newsbriefs/serpentmound.html.
 286. British Museum 128887. See E. Strommenger, with
photographs by M. Hirmer, The Art of Mesopotamia (London, 1964);
for a photography see plate 38, and for the discussion p. 388.
287. Paris, Louvre AO 190. Strommenger and Hirmer, The Art of
Mesopotamia, see the photograph in Plate 144, and discussion on p.
414.
288. See esp. Pseudo-Apollodorus, Library 3.177.
289. Halliday, Greek Divination, p. 87.
290. Wellhausen, Prolegomena (1905 [4th ed.]) p. 313.
291. J. Ph. Vogel pointed out that “genuine ophiolatry” is still
preserved in southern India. See his “Serpent Worship in Ancient and
Modern India,” AcOr (1924) 279312.
292. J. Coppens, “La dame-serpent du Sinai,” ETL 24 (1948) 409–
12.
293. H. Frankfort, “Gods and Myths on Sargonid Seals,” Iraq 1
(1934) 2–29.
294. PrJac 8; translated by Charlesworth in OTP 2.721.
295. Eusebius, PG I.10 (40a); the translation is by Gifford in
Preparation for the Gospel, p. 46.
296. Eusebius PG 40c; ibid.
297. Consult A. Gardiner, “Sect. I. Amphibious Animals, Reptites,
etc.,” in Egyptian Grammar (London, 1927, 1964) pp. 475–76.
298. See A. Erman and H. Grapow, eds., Wörterbuch der
Aegyptischen Sprache (Leipzig, 1926) vol. 1, p. 576. Also see esp. S.
Schoske and D. Wildung, “112 Nechbet” in Gott und Götter im alten
Ägypten (Mainz am Rhein, 1992) p. 165.
299. See, in addition to the many works already cited, P. F.
Houlihan, “Serpents, Scorpions, and Scarabs,” The Animal World of
the Pharaohs (London, 1996) pp. 16894; esp. the picture on p. 170.
300. See the large depictions of Zeus with the body of a serpent in
Cook, Zeus, God of the Bright Sky, vol. 1, p. 359.
301. For the Greek and English see H. W. Attridge and R. A. Oden,
Philo of Byblos: The Phoenician History (Washington, D.C., 1981) pp.
66–67.
302. Eusebius, PG 1.10.49.
 303. E. Amiet, “Glyptique elamite ä propos de documents
nouveaux,” Arts Asiatiques 26 (1973).
304. See Ridgway, “The Plataian Tripod and the Serpent Columns,”
and R. D. Barnett, “The Serpent-Headed Tripod Base,” ErIsr 19
(1987).
305. See the similar insights of M.-L.Henry in “Schlange,” BHH
(1966) vol. 3, cols. 1699–1701; esp. see col. 1701.
306. See Buchhotz, UF 32 (2000) 81.
307.ERE 11.399.
308. See Küster’s collection of ancient sources and reflections on
“die Schlange als Seelentier” in his Die Schlange in der griechischen
Kunst und Religion, p. 64.
309. W. Burkert, Greek Religion: Archaic and Classical, trans. J.
Raffan (Oxford, 1985) p. 195.
310. Plutarch, Cleomenes 39; Ovid, Metam. 15.389; Pliny, Nat.
10.84 [64].
311. For a color photograph of Hydra from a Greek urn from the
sixth century BCE, see J. Boardman et al., Die Griechische Kunst
(Munich, 1992) Plate 13. The book is full of images of serpents. For an
appreciably different understanding of Hydra’s appearance, see the
catacomb on the Via Latina, Rome; for a photograph, see J. Gray,
Near Eastern Mythology (London, New York, 1969) p. 11.
312. Küster, Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und Religion,
pp. 85–100.
313. For the Greek and English translation, see W. Scott, Hermitica
(Oxford, 1924) vol. 1, pp. 504–7.
314. According to Sozomen, two serpents can be seen below
ground in Palestine beside two coffins (EcclesiasticalHistory 9.17).
315. See also Halliday, Greek Divination, pp. 84–85.
316. See E. Porada, Man and Images in the Ancient Near East
(Wakefield, R.I., London, 1995) pp. 39, 40, 42, 43, 45, 46, and 63. For
the Coffin Texts, see Clark, Myth and Symbol in Ancient Egypt, p. 51.
317. A. Niwinski, “The 21st Dynasty Religious Iconography Project
Exemplified by the Scene with Three Deities Standing on a Serpent,”
Akten des Vierten Internationalen Ägyptologen Kongresses München
1985, ed. S. Schoske (Hamburg, 1989) pp. 305–14.
 318. Egli, Das Schlangensymbol, pp. 72–118.
319. S. N. Kramer, ed., Mythologies of the Ancient World (Garden
City, N.Y., 1961) p. 30.
320. I am indebted here to many specialists, esp. Kramer,
Mythologies of the Ancient World, p. 150.
321. Corn was not known to the Egyptians. It was introduced into
Western culture by the Native Americans. In British English, “corn”
means “wheat” or “grain.”
322. M. Lurker, The Gods and Symbols of Ancient Egypt (London,
1980) p. 108.
323. See esp. K. Sethe, Amun und die Acht Urgötter von
Hermopolis (Berlin, 1929) p. 26.
324. Evans, The Palace of Minos, vol. 1, 3, p. 500.
325. A. Golan, Myth and Symbol, p. 106.
326. Küster, Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und Religion,
p. 62.
327. When fishing with my son on the Potomac River, I saw a large
water snake swim past our boat and crawl up onto land. After sunning
itself on a branch, it moved through the grass. The other fishermen
nearby were excited because they assumed it was a moccasin.
328. Consult S. W. Greaves, “Wordplay and Associative Magic in
the Ugaritic Snake-bite Incantation RS 24.244,” UF 26 (1994) 165–67.
329.ERE 11.400.
330. See the picture in H. Koester, History, Culture, and Religion of
the Hellenistic Age (New York, Berlin, 1982) p. 204.
331. Halliday, Greek Divination, p. 86.
332. F. Majdalawi, ed., The Noble Qur’an, p. 368.
333. See the new insights from herpetologists in Angier’s
“Venomous and Sublime: The Viper Tells Its Tale,” New York Times 10
December 2002.
334. See especially Johnson, Lady, p. 122.
335. Keimer, Histoires de serpents dans l’Egypte ancienne et
moderne, pp. 26–36.
336. See J. Cooper’s brief note in Revue dAssyriologie et
d’Archéologie Orientale 4 (1898) 94.
337. Lichtheim in Context 1.83–84.
338. Fragment 1.25. For the Greek, see F. Jacoby, Die Fragmente
der Griechischen Historiker (Leiden, 1958) third part, p. 371.
339. For the translation, see E. R. Hodges, Cory’s Ancient
Fragments (London, 1876) p. 58.
340. H. Leisegang, “Das Mysterium der Schlange,” in Eranos-
Jahrbuch 1939, pp. 151–252.
341. Halliday, Greek Divination, p. 84.
342. Note: the owl-eyed symbols for Athena, the goddess of
wisdom, who is shown with snakes; cf. II.4.
343.TDNT 5 (1967) 567.
344. I wish to note that the serpent does not appear in the Song of
Solomon and the eyes mentioned are “dove’s eyes” (1:15, 4:1, 5:12).
In 7:4 we find a comparison between the lover’s eyes and “the pools in
Heshbon.”
345. See Lane, Arabic-English Lexicon, Book I, Part 1 (1863) p.
681.
346. See http://www.nvva.nl/swertz, though the name Cobra does
not appear.
347. On the Ophites, see Appendix IV and Chapter 7.
348. See Philo, Leg. 2.71–74. For the Greek and English
translation, see F. H. Colson and G. H. Whitaker, Philo (LCL;
Cambridge, Mass., London, 1991) vol. 1, pp. 268–69. Also see P.
Cazier, “Du serpent et de l’arbre de la connaissance: Lectures
patristiques (Philon, Grégoire de Nysse, Jean Chrysostome,
Augustin),” Graphe 4 (1995) 73–103; esp. pp. 84–87.
349.ApMos 16–17; trans. M. D. Johnson in OTP 2.277–78.
350. See J. Tabick, “The Snake in the Grass: The Problems of
Interpreting a Symbol in the Hebrew Bible and Rabbinic Writings,”
Religion 16 (1986) 155–67.
351. Le Grande Davies, “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel: The
Relationship Between the Literature and the Physical Remains” (PhD
diss., Utah, 1986) p. 31.
352. Ibid. pp. 25–26.
 353. L. H. Silberman, “Paul’s Viper,” Foundations and Facets
Forum 8 (1992) 24753; the quotation is on p. 252. Silberman was
commenting on Acts 28:3–6.
354. See P. Grimal, Dictionnaire de la mythologie grecque et
romaine (Paris, 1963 [3rd ed.]) p. 80.
355.The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols (London, New York, 1996)
p. 851.
356. The Hebrew is from A. Z. Steinberg et al., eds., Midrash
Rabbah: Sepher Br’shyt (Jerusalem, 1984) vol. 1, p. qmw.
357. H. Freedman, trans., Midrash Rabbah (London, 1951) p. 76.
Also, see the collection of snake stories chosen to prove that even
snakes are included in God’s creation and carry out God’s purpose.
358. I am grateful to Chevalier and Gheerbrant for this citation; see
their The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols, p. 857.
359.ERE 11.399.
360. Also see M. Ullmann, ed., Das Schlangenbuch des Hermes
Trismegistos (Wiesbaden, 1994).
361. There is no number on the piece of sculpture.
362. Doceticism denote the heresy that claims Jesus only seemed
to be human. On the Ophites’ belief in a nonhistorical version of
Christianity, see R. Liechtenhan, “Ophiten,” in RE 14 (1904) 404–13;
see esp. p. 410.
363. I am influenced by a comment by Lloyd-Russell in “The
Serpent as the Prime Symbol of Immortality Has Its Origin in the
Semitic-Sumerian Culture” (PhD diss., Los Angeles, 1938) p. 54.
364. Egli, Das Schlangensymbol, pp. 58–71.
365. See Lane, Arabic-English Lexicon Book I, Part 1 (1863) ad
loc. cit.
366. F. Steingass, A Comprehensive Persian-English Dictionary
(London, 1892, 1947) p. 434.
367. Payne Smith, Thesaurus Syriacus, vol. 1, col. 1254 and col.
1210; LexSyr, pp. 173, 220.
368. It is possible that hawwdh meant “snake” in Old Hebrew (not
biblical Hebrew) as I argue in Appendix I; see, e.g., LexSyr, p. 220a.
369. See A. Sharma, “The Significance of Visnu Reclining on the
Serpent,” Religion 16 (1986) 101–14.
370. R. Girard, Le Popol-Vuh: Histoire culturelle des Maya-Quiché
(Paris, 1954) p. 269.
371. See the similar comments by M.-L. Henry in “Schlange,” BHH
(1966) vol. 3, cols. 1699–1701; the quotation is in col. 1700.
372. See esp. Buchholz, “Schlangen und Wasser,” UF 32 (2000)
43–46.
373. A. Golan, “Snake-Water,” in Myth and Symbol: Symbolism in
Prehistoric Religions (Jerusalem, 1991) p. 101.
374. See esp. P. de Miroschedji, “Le dieu Élamite au serpent et aux
eaux jaillissantes,” Iranica Antiqua 16 (1981) 1–25, eleven plates.
375. It may seem surprising that not one serpent has been found
on Jewish ossuaries, but these categorically come with floral designs.
The appearance of the fish-like graffiti on them is challenging. See P.
Figueras, Decorated Jewish Ossuaries (Leiden, 1983) esp. pp. 105–6.
376. See, e.g., G. Rondelet, L’histoire entière des poisons (Paris,
2002 [originally 1558]) vol. 1, pp. 316–17; vol. 2, pp. 168–69.
377. See Golan, Myth and Symbol, p. 104.
378. See F. A. M. Wiggerman, “Transtigridian Snake Gods,” in
Sumerian Gods and Their Representations, edited by I. L. Finkel and
M. J. Geller (Groningen, 1997) pp. 33–55.
379. See MacCulloch’s data in ERE 11.403.
380.ERE 11.399.
381. G. Azarpay, “The Snake-Man in the Art of Bronze Age
Bactria,” Bulletin of the Asia Institute NS 5 (1991) 1–10; the quotation
is on p. 6.
382. See W. H. Mare, “Serpent’s Stone,” AYBD 5.116–17.
383. See Appendix I.
384. Text UT 62.50; see C. H. Gordon, Ugaritic Literature (Rome,
1949) p. 49.
385. At Palmyra there is a stone carving of two mounted heroes on
either side of a dignitary, above whom is a long serpent. See the
picture in E. Will, “Les aspects de l’intégration des divinités orientales
dans la civilization Gréco-Romaine,” Mythologie Gréco-Romaine,
Mythologies Périphériques: Études d’iconographie, ed. L. Kahil and C.
Augé (Paris, 1981) pp. 157–61; Plate I, bottom.
386. See Küster, “Die Schlange als Wasserdämon,” Die Schlange
in der griechischen Kunst und Religion, pp. 153–57.
387. See, e.g., F. Herrmann, Symbolik in den Religionen der
Naturvölker (Stuttgart, 1961) esp. pp. 106–41.
388. I visited Cyprus after completing the previous chapters. In the
Museum of Kyk-kos on Cyprus, I found a black-polished ceramic
vessel with a serpent on it. It dates to approximately 2000–1850 BCE.
The beak-shaped spout has the representation of a serpent. It has five
curves. No physical features are indicated. The appliquéd serpent is
inferior to the quality of the jug (A 113).
389. Cf. 2.18 and 2.24.
390. Cf. 2.17.
391. Cf. 2.5.
392. Emile Puech and Kevin McCaffrey killed a viper in the garden
of the Ecole Biblique de Jérusalem; the garden is near and above the
ancient and modern tombs.
393. Pliny, Nat. 7.172; also see Küster, Die Schlange in der
griechischen Kunst und Religion, pp. 62–72.
394. See R. de Vaux, Ancient Israel: Its Life and Institutions, trans.
J. McHugh (London, 1961) p. 44.
395. See the general reflections by W. A. Jayne in The Healing
Gods of Ancient Civilizations (New Haven, 1925) pp. 222–85.
396. J. Maringer, “Die Schlange in Kunst und Kult der
vorgeschichtlichen Menschen,” Anthropos 72 (1977) 881–920.
397. R. Jackson, Doctors and Diseases in the Roman Empire
(London, 1988).
398. Also see H. Sobel, Hygieia: Die Göttin der Gesundheit
(Darmstadt, 1990); see esp. the forty illustrations (numbered per
page); most important, see 3b (Hygieia, Asclepius, and a large
serpent), 7a, 8b, 9a, 11b (Hygieia with a serpent), 18a (Hygieia,
Asclepius, and the serpent).
399. Ovid, Metamorphoses, ed. F. J. Miller (LCL; London, New
York, 1916) vol. 2, pp. 410–11.
400. Eusebius, PG III.14 (124a); Gifford, trans., Eusebius,
Preparation for the Gospel, p. 135.
401. For a photograph, see E. Dvorjetski, “Properties of
Therapeutic Baths in Eretz-Israel in Antiquity,” in Illness and Healing in
Ancient Times, p. 42.
402. For another (color) photograph, see Y. Meshorer, TestiMoney
(Jerusalem, 2000) p. 50.
403. See H. Vincent and F.-M. Abel, Jérusalem (Paris, 1926) vol. 2,
Plate LXVII, image V.
404. See the photographs in R. Gersht, “Gods of Medicine in the
Greek and Roman World,” in Illness and Healing in Ancient Times, pp.
8, 9, and 12.
405. See S. V. McCasland, “The Asklepios Cult in Palestine,” JBL
58 (1939) 22127; esp. p. 224.
406. B. O. Foster, Livy (LCL; London, New York, 1926) vol. 4, pp.
540–43.
407. See Livy, Book 11, summary.
408. S. R. F. Price in The Augustan Empire, 43 B.C.-A.D. 69, ed. A.
K. Bowman et al. (Cambridge, [2nd ed.]) p. 812.
409. See M. Hamilton, Incubation (St. Andrews, London, 1906).
410. R. Parker in The Oxford History of the Classical World, ed. J.
Boardman, J. Griffin, and O. Murray (Oxford, New York, 1986) 267.
411. Pliny, Nat. 29.71.
412. Far too often studies of sickness and health in the New
Testament focus on how Jesus cast out demons and represented
God’s will in his actions and fail to see the importance of ophidian
symbolism and the pervasive influence of the Asclepian cult and
Asclepius in the first century. Such a blindness characterizes such
works as F. Fenner’s Die Krankheit im Neuen Testament (Leipzig,
1930).
413. I am grateful to Jacob Milgrom for this information.
414. Far more common in Rabbinics is the fear of the snake who
poisons fruit and water. See the discussions in J. Preuss, Biblical and
Talmudic Medicine, trans. F. Rosner (Northvale, N.J., London, 1978,
1993); see “Snake” in the Index. This classic is quite dated; Preuss
lived from 1861 to 1913.
 415. See P. D. Miller, “Fire in the Mythology of Canaan and Israel,”
CBQ 27 (1965) 256–61. The burning of Jerusalem was perceived to
be purification of the city (viz. Jer 21:10, 32:29). See Exod 29:14; Lev
4:12, 4:21, 16:27; Ezek 43:21, and esp. Num 19:5 and Deut 21:1–9
(the burning of the red heifer). Note also the rules for burning and thus
purifying the clothes that were contaminated or infected (Lev 13:52,
13:55). The burning of the Canaanite altars and gods and goddesses
was a purifying of the land (Deut 7:5, 25; 12:3, Jer 43:12–13) that also
demanded a burning of their cities (viz. Deut 13:16; Josh 11:6, 13
[bis]). I note that Le Grande Davies also suggests that “burning-
serpents” in Num 21 had a cleansing connotation: “The serpents of the
wilderness acted as ‘servants’ of YHWH to help cleanse Israel of its
‘refuse.’ “ “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” p. 104.
416. I am grateful to E. E. Urbach for conversations on the
meaning of stoning among the Jews.
417. Pseudo-Apollodorus, Library 1.96.
418. Halliday, Greek Divination, pp. 82–83.
419. Ambrose, Of the Christian Faith 16.131e; trans. H. De
Romestin, “Of the Christian Faith,” NPNF2 10, p. 261.
420. Jung, Man and His Symbols, p. 153.
421. J. L. Henderson and M. Oakes. The Wisdom of the Serpent:
The Myths of Death, Rebirth, and Resurrection (New York, 1963; repr.
Princeton, 1990) p. 154.
422. Ibid., p. 156.
423. For the Greek text, translation, and commentary, see M. D.
Reeve, “A Rejuvenated Snake,” Acta Antiqua: Academiae Scientiarum
Hungaricae 37 (1996/1997) 245–58.
424. For the following examples, I am indebted to Reeve, Acta
Antiqua: Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae 37 (1996/1997) 245.
425. See Lloyd-Russell, “The Serpent as the Prime Symbol of
Immortality,” esp. pp. iii, 9, 64, 66, 67, 77, 85, 90.
426. See C. Virolleaud, “Die Idee der Wiedergeburt bei den
Phöniziern,” Uranos-Jahrbuch 1939, ed. O. Fröbe-Kapteyn (Rhein,
1940) pp. 21–60.
427. See Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion, p. 165.
428. See Lloyd-Russell, “The Serpent as the Prime Symbol of
Immortality,” p. 79.
429. P. A. Piccione, “Mehen, Mysteries, and Resurrection from the
Coiled Serpent,” Journal of the American Center in Egypt 27 (1990)
43–52. Also see T. Kendall, Passing Through the Netherworld: The
Meaning and Play of Senet, an Ancient Egyptian Funerary Game
(Belmont, Mass., 1978). Kendall, “Schlangenspiel,” Lexicon der
Ägyptologie 5.1 (1983) 654–55.
430. Lloyd-Russell, “The Serpent as the Prime Symbol of
Immortality,” p. 90.
431. Foster in Context 1.458.
432. Albright, “The Goddess of Life and Wisdom,” p. 258.
433. For the two quotations, respectively, see S. A. B. Mercer, The
Pyramid Texts in Translation and Commentary (New York, London,
1952) vol. 3, pp. 237 and 302.
434. See S. Reinach, “Zagreus, le serpent cornu,” RAr 3rd ser. 35
(1899) 210–17.
435.DACL 6 (1950) col. 1357.
436. An unrecognized serpent pin may be shown in M. Spaer,
Ancient Glass in the Israel Museum (Jerusalem, 2001) p. 263. See the
Adam, woman, and serpent pendant on p. 180 (no. 366) and Medusa
disk on p. 254.
437. See L. Keimer, Remarques sur le tatouage dans l’Egypte
ancienne (Cairo, 1948) esp. p. 32 and p. 86 (Fig. 67).
438. See esp. Figueras, “A Comprehensive Approach to the
Question of Symbolism,” in Decorated Jewish Ossuaries, pp. 83–86.
439. Also see the depiction of Triptolemus in a chariot pulled by
winged serpents in the Vatican. For a photograph, see W.
Zschietzschmann, Hellas und Rom: Eine Kulturgeschichte des
Altertums in Bildern (Tübingen, 1959) p. 13.
440. A. D. Nock, Essay on Religion and the Ancient World, ed. Z.
Stewart (Oxford, 1972) p. 906.
441. Consult P. Montet, “Le jeu du serpent,” ChrEg 30 (1955) 189–
97.
442. I am indebted to MacCulloch for this information. See ERE
11.400.
 443. Among the animals most represented in mosaics is the snake;
consult H. Lavagne et al., eds., Mosai’que (Paris, 2000) p. 45.
444. See the mosaics juxtaposed in J. Leipoldt, Bilder zum
neutestamentlichen Zeitalter in J. Leipoldt and W. Grundmann, eds.,
Umwelt des Urchristentums, 3 vols. (Berlin, 1971) vol. 3, Plates 74 and
75. The book is replete with images of serpents.
445. See the photograph in Depictions of Animals from the Leo
Mildenberg Collection (Haifa, 1999) p. 54 (Fig. 94).
446. Surely, no one should imagine that I am implying that snakes
do not die. The facts are that we often see the skins of snakes in the
forest, but we almost never find a dead snake.
447. The snake has no urinary bladder, but an anus. Snakes need
to conserve the water they ingest, passing on waste as virtually a solid
mass that had been stored in the cloaca. I am pointing to the contrasts
between snakes and humans and other animals, like horses, cows,
and dogs (who often seem to urinate almost constantly). Snakes
usually are odorless, but some species, like the water snakes (Natrix)
and garter snakes (Thamnophis), emit foul smells from anal glands as
a defense mechanism. See The New Encyclopedia Britannica:
Macropaedia, vol. 26, pp. 693 and 696.
448.Antiken Denkm. (1850) vol. 2, p. 264; as cited by Küster at the
commencement of his Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und
Religion, p. 1. Also see the similar insights provided by M. Provera in
“Il tema e culto del serpente nella tradizione biblica e profana,” BeO
166 (1990) 209–14.
449. In his encyclopedia on symbols, H. Biedermann rightly begins
his entry on serpent symbolism by stressing its complex contradictory
symbolic power. Biedermann, Enciclopedia dei Simboli (Milan, 2001)
p. 483.
450.Meaning in the Visual Arts, p. 32. I am indebted to E. H.
Gombrich who highlighted this caveat. See his “Introduction: Aims and
Limits of Iconology,” in Symbolic Images: Studies in the Art of the
Renaissance (Oxford, 1972 [3rd ed.]) pp. 1–22. I am grateful to the
director of the Warburg Institute, London, for discussions on iconology
and for drawing my attention to Gombrich’s work.

6. Serpent Symbolism in the Hebrew Bible

1. See, e.g., J. Maringer, “Die Schlange in Kunst und Kult der
vorgeschichtlichen Menschen,” Anthropos 72 (1977) 881–920.
2. See P. Joüon, “Le grand dragon, l’ancien serpent,” RSR 17
(1927) 444–46; B. Renz, Der orientalische Schlangendrache
(Augsburg, 1930); W. Foerster, “òpaKcov,” TDNT 3 (1964) 281–83.
3. See W. Foerster, TDNT 2 (1964) 815–16.
4. See Appendix II and Foerster, TDNT 5 (1967) 566–71.
5. See the reflections by many who study symbolism; notably,
consult G. Busi in his Mistica Ebraica, ed. G. Busi and E. Loewenthal
(Turin, 1995) p. xii.
6. H. and H. A. Frankfort, Before Philosophy (Baltimore, 1949) pp.
19–20.
7.TDNT 5 (1967) 567.
8. The following section is directed to those who have not been
trained in the science of biblical research.
9. There are thirty-nine books in the Old Testament, since, for
example, the Minor Prophets are counted as only one book in the HB
but twelve in the OT.
10. D. E. Aune, “On the Origins of the ‘Council of Javneh’ Myth,”
JBL 110 (1991) 491–93. S. Talmon, “The Crystallization of the ‘Canon
of Hebrew Scriptures’ in the Light of Biblical Scrolls from Qumran,” in
The Bible as Book, ed. E. D. Herbert and E. Tov (London, 2002) pp. 5–
20. L. M. McDonald, The Formation of the Christian Biblical Canon
(Peabody, Mass., 1995 [rev. and expanded ed.]).
11. I am grateful to S. Talmon for discussions on the “Book of the
People.”
12. Also see Appendix I.
13. Scholars have correctly concluded, for centuries, that two
authors composed the beginning chapters of Genesis; the P writer is
identified by his penchant for calling God “Elohim,” and the Yahwist
called God “Yahweh (or the Lord) God.” See the following discussion
of “JEDP” at the beginning of the exegesis of Gen 3.
14. This aspect of Gen 3 cannot be traced to other cultures, such
as Babylonia. There is no good parallel to it, as many experts have
pointed out. See esp. J. Ernst, Die eschatologischen Gegenspieler in
den Schriften des Neuen Testaments (Regensberg, 1967) pp. 244–45.
 15. During the time of writing this chapter, the standard for spelling
“worshipers” changed to “worshippers.” I have corrected all these
spellings.
16.“Nechushtan” is the vocalization I have chosen to help the
person who is not a biblical scholar.
17. I have chosen not to use capitalization for trees in Eden.
18. R. Guénon, Simboli della Scienza sacra, trans. F. Zambon
(Milan, 1975 [French original was published in 1962]). See esp. the
suggestion that the descriptions of the earthly Paradise symbolize the
heavenly Jerusalem; p. 287: “C’è inoltre da notare che di tutto il
simbolismo végétale del Paradiso terrestre solo l’ Albero della Vita’
sussiste con questo carattere nella descrizione della Gerusalemme
celeste.”
19. I am indebted to the reflections by B. W. Anderson in Creation
in the Old Testament (Philadelphia, London, 1984) esp. pp. 1–2.
20. M. J. Gruenthaner, “The Demonology of the Old Testament,”
CBQ 6 (1944) 6–27; the quotations are from pp. 7 and 8, respectively.
21. See M. Giebel, Tiere in der Antike (Darmstadt, 2003) p. 166.
22. D. Patte, ed., Genesis 2 and 3: Kaleidoscopic Structural
Readings (Chico, Calif., 1980) p. 4.
23. While the Jews who have given us the apocryphal books and
the Haggadah and the early and later Christian scholars have been
interested in the serpent in Gen 3, early rabbinic Jews did not seem
fascinated or concerned with serpent imagery. Hillel and Shammai are
reputed to have debated the meaning of Gen 2:4 and 3:4 but not 3:1;
see N. Sed, La Mystique cosmologique juive (Paris, New York, 1981)
esp. p. 31. As we shall demonstrate, and as Urbach indicated, “The
story of the serpent in the Book of Genesis … which left no trace in the
Biblical books, received extensive treatment in the apocryphal
literature and in the Hagada [sic].” E. E. Urbach, The Sages 2 vols.,
trans. I. Abrahams (Jerusalem, 1979) vol. 1, p. 167.
24. A. de Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology (New York, 1972) vol.
2, p. 389.
25.The Book of Genesis (New York, 1965) p. 59.
26. Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 1–27.
27. Ibid., p. 13.
 28. P. Diel, Symbolism in the Bible: The Universality of Symbolic
Language and Its Psychological Significance, trans. N. Marans (San
Francisco, 1986) pp. 11–12.
29. E. Hampton-Cook, “The Serpent in Eden (Gen. iii),” Expository
Times 18 (1906–1907) 287.
30. See esp. J. S. Hanson, “Dreams and Visions in the Greco-
Roman World and Early Christianity,” in ANRW II 23.2 (1980) 1395–
1426; see esp. pp. 1397–98.
31. See J.-P. Picot, “Genèse et récits contemporains de contre-
utopie: Eve et le serpent,” in La Bible: Images, Mythes et Traditions
(Paris, 1995) pp. 45–60. On p. 44, Picot rightly clarifies that Eve has
not yet been named: “Et voilà Eve au côté d’Adam, Eve qui n’a pas
encore de nom.”
32. According to the Midrashim (rabbinic commentary on biblical
texts), the serpent was jealous of the humans because the angels
roasted the meat and poured the wine for the couple. This is attractive
and imaginative hermeneutics, but it is not modern critical scholarship.
33. E. E. Day and G. D. Jordan, “Serpent,” ISBE 4.417–18; the
quotation is from p. 417.
34. This is pointed out by J.-P. Picot, “Genèse et récits
contemporains de contre-utopie,” 45–60.
35. The text has “he” ( ); does that not suggest either that the
snake was perceived to be male or that there is a paronomasia
between N1H and mn? Such would not be surprising since
paronomasia shapes the flow of thought in Gen 3.
36. This verse seems intrusive because it attributes to the
anonymous woman a very high role. See A. J. Williams, “The
Relationship of Genesis 3:20 to the Serpent,” ZAW 89 (1977) 357–74.
37. Cf. D. I. O. Smit, “Serpens aut Daemonium?” in Miscellanea
Biblica et Orienta-lia, ed. A. Metzinger (Rome, 1951) pp. 94–97.
38. L. Réau, Iconographie de l’art chrétien, 6 vols. (Paris, 1955–
1959); see vol. 1, pp. 98–99.
39. See C. F. Keil, Biblischer Commentar über die Bücher Moses:
Genesis und Exodus (Leipzig, 1866 [2nd ed.]) vol. 1, p. 56. Keil
explains his way out of the problem that the serpent has supernatural
knowledge by the amazing subjective claim that this knowledge comes
“not from the Serpent himself” (“nicht aus der Schlange selbst”) but
“only from a higher Spirit” (“nur von einem höheren Geist”) p. 56. Now,
why would the serpent, as Satan, receive such a higher spirit? It is
best to allow an ancient author to say something shocking and to listen
to him. It is evident that at this point the Yahwist has inherited the myth
of the serpent itself being a higher spirit.
40. This fact was stressed long ago by H. Gunkel, one of the most
insightful commentators on Genesis. See Gunkel, Genesis (Göttingen,
1977 [9th ed.]) p. 15, “Die spätere, jüdisch-christliche Erklärung (Sap
Sal 2:24, Joh 8:44, ApJoh 12:9, 20:2), die Schlange sei der Teufel, ist
unrichtig.”
41. The story of the serpent with Adam and “Eve” in the Garden of
Eden is so well known that the New Yorker has run cartoons featuring
it. For example, the drawing by Whitney Darrow depicts in comic
fashion an astronaut, who has landed on some far-off planet, running
from his spacecraft toward a reclining Adam, a large upraised and
benign serpent, and headed primarily for Eve, whose right hand
reaches up to an apple, and to whom he shouts, “Miss! Oh, Miss! For
God’s sake, stop!” See The New Yorker Album of Drawings 192 5–
1975 (New York, 1978) no pages, but about one-fifth into the book.
42. Transliterations added by me.
43. E. A. Speiser, Genesis (Garden City, N.Y., 1964) pp. 14–23. I
have added transliterations of the Hebrew to draw attention to word
plays (paronomasia) and to thoughts that unite the folktale like a
special colored thread in a tapestry.
44. The Yahwist is far too early to imagine deep influences from
Greece and Rome.
45. See, e.g., H.-P. Müller, Mythos—Kerygma—Wahrheit (Berllin,
New York, 1991) esp. pp. 3–42.
46. See the similar thoughts expressed by Le Grande Davies,
“Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” p. 42.
47. Eliade, Myth and Reality, trans. W. R. Trask (New York, 1968)
p. 6. I am indebted to Le Grande Davies for this reference (p. 43).
48. E. Phillips rightly asks why the relation between the two trees is
“stunningly ambiguous.” Phillips, “Serpent Intertexts: Tantalizing Twists
in the Tales,” BBR 10 (2000) 233–45; the quotation is on p. 236.
49. E. O. James rightly sees that the tree of life seems to be
“introduced as if it were an after thought.” James, The Tree of Life: An
Archeological Study (Leiden, 1966) p. 75. James shows no interest in
the serpent or snake. Contrast U. Holmberg’s Der Baum des Lebens.
She is primarily interested in the goddess, but she includes an interest
in the serpent. See Holmberg, Der Baum des Lebens: Göttinnen und
Baumkult (Bern, 1996); see Illus. No. 34 (serpent entwined on a tree),
37 (serpent goddess Ganga), 41 (the goddess Erde with a serpent), 53
(a serpent three times curled around the navel stone), 67 (two
serpents, upraised, beneath a three-headed goddess).
50. J. G. Frazer, Folk-Lore in the Old Testament (London, 1918).
51. As J. Skinner pointed out long ago, the Yahwist implies that the
Garden of Eden was planted after the creation of man. See Skinner,
Genesis (Edinburgh, 1930 [2nd ed.]) p. 57.
52. A woodcutting of the sixteenth century shows Adam, the
woman, and the serpent; what is remarkable is the depiction of the
tree of knowledge as a human skeleton. See C. Baudelaire, Sämtliche
Werke/Briefe, 6 vols., ed. F. Kemp et al. (Munich, 1975) vol. 4, Illus.
No. 15.
53. As U. Cassuto asked: “If we answer that the cunning of the
serpent was the determining factor, then why just this and not another
wily creature, like the fox?” Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of
Genesis, trans. I. Abrahams (Jerusalem, 1961) vol. 1, p. 140.
54. Cf. esp. Ps 1, Isa 5, 1QH 16 (olim 8), PssSol, and OdesSol 11.
55. I am aware that Gunkel thought that the creation narrative in
Genesis was not a “story,” but he, as W. R. Scott points out, was not
as precise as he imagined and often also referred to the creation
narrative as a story. See Scott’s reflections in H. Gunkel, The Story of
Genesis, trans. J. J. Scullion and ed. W. R. Scott (Oakland, Calif.,
1994) p. xi.
56. Speiser, Genesis, p. 25.
57. Speiser, Genesis, p. 23.
58. Th. C. Vriezen, Onderzoek naar de Paradizsvoorstelling bij de
oude Semietische Volken (Wagenigen, 1937); see the succinct
summary in English by C. Westermann in Genesis 1–11, trans. J. J.
Scullion (Minneapolis, 1974) p. 237.
59. E. Williams-Forte, “The Snake and the Tree in the Iconography
and Texts of Syria During the Bronze Age,” in Ancient Seals and the
Bible, ed. L. Gorelick and E. Williams-Forte (Malibu, Calif., 1983) pp.
18–43.
60. Joines, “The Serpent in Gen 3,” ZAW 87 (1975) 1–11.
61. Pagels, Adam, Eve, and the Serpent (New York, 1988) p. 69.
As reviewers of Pagels’s book point out, there is in this work a “paucity
of references to Adam, Eve, or the serpent.” See esp. A. Jacobs,
“Provocative and Tendentious,” The Reformed Journal 39 (1989) p. 21.
62. J. Bellamy, The Ophion or the Theology of the Serpent and the
Unity of God (London, 1911) pp. vi-vii.
63. For example, T. L. Brodie sees Genesis as a complex unity that
has been influenced by Homer. See Brodie, Genesis as Dialogue
(Oxford, New York, 2001); esp. see “Sources: Genesis’s Use of
Homer’s Odyssey,” and “Sources: The Theory of Four Hypothetical
Documents (J, E, D, and P).” Brodie does not discuss the image of the
serpent in this book.
64. E.g., see G. von Rad, Das Formgeschichtliche Problem des
Hexateuch (Stuttgart, 1938); W. Brueggemann, “David and His
Theologian,” CBQ 30 (1968) 156–81; P. Ellis, The Yahwist: The Bible’s
First Theologian (Collegeville, 1968) 21–50.
65. See esp. E. Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and Origins of the
Bible (Grand Rapids, Leiden, 1999) p. 11.
66.The Book of Genesis (New York, 1965) pp. 47–48.
67. E. J. Young, An Introduction to the Old Testament (Grand
Rapids, 1965) p. 33.
68.The Old Testament: An Introduction, trans. P. Ackroyd (New
York, 1966) p. 198.
69. Joines, Serpent Symbolism in the Old Testament, p. 31.
70. S. R. Driver, An Introduction to the Literature of the Old
Testament (New York, 1956) pp. 123–24. Le Grande Davies concurred
with Driver: “All of the theories merely propound prejudices or
feelings.” “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” p. 41. There are limits;
the story of Gen 3 took its present form by at least 800 BCE (according
to most experts, viz. Kittel, Kuenen, and Wellhausen).
71. As A. Fanuli states, the originality of the Yahwist is the framing
of Israel’s history as “storia universale” as well as an attractive
presentation: “é un’unica storia di salvezza” (his italics). A. Fanuli in La
spiritualità dell’Antico Testamento, ed. A. Fanuli (Rome, 1988) p. 219.
 72. I. Engnell, “ ‘Knowledge’ and ‘Life’ in the Creation Story,”
VTSupp 3 (1955) pp. 112–16. Also see Engnell, Studies in Divine
Kingship in the Ancient Near East (Oxford, 1967).
73. Gunkel, Genesis, p. 4.
74. For his textual work, see G. von Rad, Das erste Buch Mose
(Göttingen, 1981 [11th ed.]) pp. 50–83.
75. Still valuable is W. R. Cooper, “Observations on the Serpent
Myths of Ancient Egypt,” Journal of the Transactions of the Victoria
Institute 6 (1873) pp. 321–91; esp. note the 126 illustrations. Cooper
was convinced: “The study of Egyptian mythology will throw more light
upon the restrictive customs of the Jews, the allusions of the prophets
… than that of any other country” (p. 391). We have seen that this view
is now modified to account for the presence of Egyptian and other
elements within Canaanite culture.
76. As cited by G. von Rad, Genesis, trans. J. H. Marks
(Philadelphia, 1973 [rev.ed.]) p. 86.
77. Ibid., p. 88.
78. U. Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis, trans. I.
Abrahams (Jerusalem, 1961) vols. 1, pp. 142–43.
79. E. Wiesel, “The Serpent,” BRev 13.6 (1997) 18–19; the
quotation is on p. 19 (trans. A. Martin). Wiesel speaks of “Eve,” but
does recognize that there are two trees in Eden (p. 18).
80. Speiser, Genesis, p. 23.
81. Moberly is essentially right to point out that the language of
Gen 2–3 is “the mature language of classical Hebew,” but there are
exceptions to this rule, and the earlier myths have shaped the story.
See Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 1.
82. Note how different this critical text is from the popular one
found in handy editions of the LXX. See J. W. Wevers, ed., Genesis
(Göttingen, 1974) p. 89.
83. The punctuation is less important; there is no punctuation in the
Uncial Greek. The Greek text, however, does clarify that the Greeks,
and not just the ones who added the punctuation marks, knew that the
words formed an interrogative sentence.
84. For informed discussions and guides to publications, see E.
Tov, The Greek and Hebrew Bible (Leiden, Boston, 1999).
 85. Fanuli, La spiritualità dell’Antico Testamento, p. 229:
“L’influenza ‘astuta’ (Gen 3, 1) e nefasta del serpente.”
86. Gunkel, Genesis, pp. 15–16.
87.La Bible de Jérusalem (Paris, 1998 [new rev. and corrected
ed.]) p. 41.
88. Translation from the LXX; see M. Harl, La Genèse (Paris, 1986)
p. 106.
89. M. Maher, translator, Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis
(Edinburgh, 1992) p. 25 (italics his).
90. Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 4.
91. B. Gosse, “L’écriture de Gn 3, le serpent dualité de la femme et
de l’homme,” BN 98 (1999) 19–20; the quotation is from p. 19.
92. Contrast the far more insightful reflections on the wisdom of the
serpent by B. Renz, “Die Kluge Schlange,” BZ 24 (1938–1939) 241.
93. See T. Muraoka, Hebrew/Aramaic Index to the Septuagint
(Grand Rapids, 1988) p. 115.
94. The Greek translator cannot preserve the paronomasia that
links the nudity of the humans with the serpent as “the most clever (or
wise) of all the beasts of the land;” the Greek word for nudity is
gumnoi. See Wevers, ed., Genesis, p. 89.
95. Plato, Politicus 263d and Aristotle, Historia Animalium 488b15.
96. See Harl, Genèse, p. 107.
97. Maher, trans., Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis, p. 25 (italics
his).
98. For the text, see M. Ginsburger, ed., Pseudo-Jonathan (Berlin,
1903) p. 5.
99. In this book, which is designed for many who have no
knowledge about transliteration techniques, I have decided not to use
the scholarly norm, since hkm may remain meaningless to them.
Readers may not know that h denote the sound “ch.” Also,
transliterations like s will be avoided since many readers will not grasp
that “sh” is intended.
100. J. W. Etheridge, The Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan ben
Uzziel on the Pentateuch (New York, 1968) p. 40 (Onkelos). Words
within brackets are mine.
 101. A. Sperber, ed., The Bible in Aramaic: Volume 1, The
Pentateuch According to Targum Onkelos (Leiden, 1959) p. 4.
102. The Aramaic and Diez Macho’s translation are from Diez
Macho, ed., Neo-phyti 1: Génesis (Madrid/Barcelona, 1968) pp. 12–
13.
103. This is the translation by M. McNamara in his Targum Neofiti
1: Genesis (Edinburgh, 1992) p. 59.
104. For more discussion, see P. Kübel, “Ein Wortspiel in Genesis
3 und sein Hintergrund: Die ‘kluge’ Schlange und die ‘nackten’
Menschen,” BN 93 (1998) 11–22.
105. For the Hebrew text, see M. S. Zukermandel, Tosephta
(Pasewalk, 1880) p. 300.
106. Neusner, trans., The Tosefta (New York, 1979) vol. Nashim, p.
165.
107. As Gunkel wrote, the serpent “is the cleverest of animals, he
is also more clever than the childish human; he has, according to v. 5,
mysterious knowledge, which beside him only God knows” (“ist das
klügste der Tiere, sie ist auch klüger als der damals noch kindliche
Mensch; sie hat nach v. 5 geheimes Wissen, das außer ihr nur noch
Gott selber weiß”). Gunkel, Genesis, p. 15.
108. G. von Rad, Genesis, p. 81.
109. J. F. A. Sawyer, “The Image of God, the Wisdom of Serpents,
and the Knowledge of Good and Evil,” in A Walk in the Garden:
Biblical, Iconographical and Literary Images of Eden, ed. P. Morris and
D. Sawyer (Sheffield, 1992) pp. 64–73; the quotation is on p. 66.
 110. For a translation of parts of Gunkel’s well-known masterpiece,
see C. A. Muenchow, “The Influence of Babylonian Mythology Upon
the Biblical Creation Story,” in Creation in the Old Testament, ed. B. W.
Anderson (Philadelphia, 1984) pp. 25–52.
111. Jaros perceives correctly that the serpent is “ein
Gottesgeschöpf” and so “keine gottfeindliche Macht repräsentieren
könne.” K. Jaros “Die Motive der Heiligen Bäume und der Schlange in
Gen 2–3,” ZAW 92 (1980) 214. Most commentators make the point
that the Nachash cannot be Satan, and that he was created by God.
112. See B. W. Anderson, “The Slaying of the Fleeing, Twisting
Serpent: Isaiah 27:1 in Context,” in Uncovering Ancient Sources:
Essays in Memory of H. Neil Richardson, ed. L. M. Hopfe (Winona
Lake, Ind., 1994) pp. 3–15.
113. W. B. Kristensen, “De Slangenstaf en het Spraakvermogen
van Mozes en Aäron,” Mededelingen der Koninklijke Nederlandse
Akademie van Wetenschappen NS 16.14 (1953) 591–610. Kristensen
illustrates how Egyptian gods, and perhaps pharaohs, were depicted
with serpents as staffs and serpents facing a staff.
114. Sawyer, “The Image of God, the Wisdom of Serpents, and the
Knowledge of Good and Evil,” p. 67.
115. The translation is from J. Gardner and J. Maier, Gilgamesh
(New York, 1984) pp. 249–50.
116.Before Philosophy, p. 23.
117. See the classical study, published in 1895, by Gunkel,
translated by C. A. Muen-chow, “The Influence of Babylonian
Mythology upon the Biblical Creation Story.”
118. See J. Armstrong, “Themes in Sumerian and Greek Myth and
Visual Imagery,” in The Paradise Myth (London, New York, 1969) pp.
8–36.
119. To be as focused as possible on serpent symbolism, I cannot
explore what is meant by the knowledge obtained by the man and his
wife. I. Engnell makes a remarkable case that this knowledge means
that they are, like God, capable of procreation. Engell, “Knowledge and
‘Life” in the Creation Story,” in Wisdom in Israel and in the Ancient
Near East [H. H. Rowley Festschrift], ed. M. Noth and D. W. Thomas
(Leiden, 1960) pp. 103–19; see esp. pp. 115–16.
120. Cheyne, Encyclopedia Biblica, 4.4396.
 121. See C. Milani in Studi e materiali di archeologia e
numismatica 1 (1899–1901) pp. 37ff; also see Buchholz, Ugarit-
Forschungen 32 (2000) 126 and the drawing on p. 168.
122. The circular border and the fish within it suggest that the signs
of the zodiac once encircled this fragment.
123. R. Seewald’s Orbis Pictus contains an allegorical drawing of
the human, with a large serpent, curled around a tree, “kissing” the
right cheek of a nude “Eve.” See R. Seewald, Orbis Pictus: Siebzehn
Allegorien und Texte über die sichtbare Welt (Memmingen, 1965) Illus.
No. 3 (cf. Illus. No. 4).
124. Another serpent may have been to the left of what remains
since a wing protrudes into the scene. I am grateful to L. Guglielmo for
discussing this piece with me.
125. See the further comments by Gunkel, Genesis, p. 15.
126. The paronomasia is cleverly developed by the Yahwist; see
the following discussion.
127. Le Grande Davies, “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” p. 57.
128. One of the brilliant aspects of Le Grande Davies’ “Serpent
Imagery in Ancient Israel,” is the speculation that the “serpent in
Genesis 3, [sic] is the ‘earliest’ recognizable challenge to the ‘Serpent
symbol’ of YHWH.” See p. 57.
129. For further discussion, see C. Meyers, Discovering Eve (New
York, Oxford, 1988) p. 91.
130. G. von Rad rightly points out that the “Schlange” is one of
God’s creatures and certainly not some demonic power or Satan:
“[S]ie ist also im Sinne des Erzählers nicht die Symbolisierung einer
‘dämonischen’ Macht und gewiß nicht des Satans.” G. von Rad, Das
erste Buch Mose, p. 61.
131. In African mythology, “the Snake” spoke in the language of
mortals and died because he “should have used spirit language.” G.
Parrinder, African Mythology (New York, 1982) p. 61.
132. Meyers, Discovering Eve, p. 92.
133. MacCulloch, ERE, vol. 11, p. 403.
134. Perhaps at this point the reader has forgotten the meaning of
Pos.; it refers to the Positive Meaning of a serpent explained in Chap.
5.
 135. Perhaps at this point the reader has forgotten the meaning of
Neg.; it refers to the Negative Meaning of a serpent explained in Chap.
5.
136. B. Gosse-Antony refers to the “duality represented by the
serpent’s role” (“dualité représentée par le rôle du serpent”). Gosse-
Antony, “L’écriture de Gn 3, le serpent dualité de la femme et de
l’homme,” BN 98 (1999) 19–20; the quotation is on p. 19.
137. J. Skinner, Genesis (Edinburgh, 1910) pp. 71–72.
138. Ibid., p. 2.
139. Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 2.
140. Since my work is focused on serpent iconography and Gen 3,
I cannot engage in a dialogue with him and other scholars regarding
many aspects of the text. I do agree with Speiser that the Yahwist has
“transposed” everything “into human terms” (p. 25). I also am attracted
to his insight that the Yahwist thereby “evoked” the “childhood” of
humankind by portraying God Yahweh calling out to his creature with a
meaning such as “And what have you been up to just now?”
141. Joines, ZAW 87 (1975) 8.
142. See, e.g., A. Van den Branden, “La création de l’homme et de
la femme d’après le document Jahviste,” BeO 166 (1990) 193–208.
143. See especially Enuma Elish I in ANET, pp., 63, 160–61 and
the Gilgamesh epic Tablet I, col. 4, lines 16ff.in ANET, p. 75. Also see
Speiser, Genesis, pp. 24–27.
144. It is now pertinent to report that S. Moussaieff has some
unpublished ancient idols that may antedate 3000 BCE. They allegedly
come from the Hurrian culture near Lake Van. One shows a seated
creature; one end is uplifted to show a woman who faces a serpent
with a mouth and distinct eyes. Another depicts a serpent facing one
way and a woman another. The third has two serpents lifted up and
facing a woman. A fourth has three serpents; beneath one may be a
woman. For similar objects, see A. P. Kozloff, ed., Animals in Ancient
Art (Cleveland, 1981) p. 16.
145. Fanuli, La spiritualità dell’Antico Testamento, p. 229.
146. Contrast Skinner: “Whether even in Heb. it is more than an
assonance is doubtful.” Skinner, Genesis, p. 70.
147. See esp. how carefully constructed is Gen 3:6: paronomasia,
repetition, and an inclusio (from ha ‘issäh, “the woman,” to ‘isäh, “her
husband”).
148. A Wénin, Actualité des mythes: Relire les récits mythiques de
Genèse 1–11 (Sainte-Ode, 2001) p. 30.
149. My idiomatic translation.
150. P. Haupt, “The Curse on the Serpent,” JBL 35 (1916) 155–62:
the quotation is on p. 160 (transliterations mine).
151. See P. Kübel, “Ein Wortspiel in Genesis 3 und sein
Hintergrund: Die ‘kluge’ Schlange und die ‘nackten’ Menschen.”
Moberly rightly points out that the Yahwist has avoided the usual way
of spelling “naked,” ‘yrm (cf. 3:7,10), and so brings out the
paronomasia. Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 24 n. 69.
152. See also G. J. Wenham, Genesis (Waco, Tex., 1987) p. 81.
153. Also see Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 6–7.
154. Gunkel, The Stories of Genesis, p. 27.
155. Ibid., p. 29.
156. In addition to the other references to images of serpents with
feet cited earlier, see the numerous images of serpents with feet in K.
Michalowski, L’Art de l’ancienne Egypte, esp. nos. 386 (Tomb of
Tutmosis III; Eighteenth Dynasty), 391 and 392 (both from the Tomb of
Amenophis II; Eighteenth Dynasty).
157. I have placed in quotation marks the words of Speiser; see his
Genesis, p. 26.
158. G. von Rad, Genesis, p. 81.
159. Le Grande Davies, “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” p. 55.
160. See the philological work by Hamilton, The Book of Genesis,
p. 171.
161. Gen 4 and following presuppose that the woman, now Eve,
has been ejected with Adam. Perhaps the ancient Semitic concept of
corporate solidarity applies in Gen 3: the man, Adam, alone is
mentioned but the reader knows Adam includes “Eve.” In ancient
Semitic, the man often alone was mentioned, but he represented the
whole family or clan (as in Lat. paterfamilias).
162. This is emphasized by Gunkel; see his The Stories of
Genesis, p. 47.
163. Speiser, Genesis, p. 23.
 164. It is difficult to discern to what extent the perception that the
Nachash is female is to be found in German commentators since the
serpent, “die Schlange,” in German is feminine.
165. Note also the use of superlative verb forms, literally “eating,
you may eat” and “dying, you will die;” I have used adverbs to convey
the meaning in understandable English.
166. Long before Freud, Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742–1799)
examined the meaning of dreams. He observed that often one reports
having been spoken to by someone. Then, on reflection, it becomes
clear that the person who had spoken is none other than the self. He
then wonders what earlier generations meant when they said, like Eve:
“The serpent spoke to me.” Or “The Lord spoke to me. My spirit spoke
to me.” Then, we do not really know what we think. We seem to
imagine that another had spoken to us, but in reality we have become
a third person who speaks to us. In our dreams, the other person, or
snake, is often a personification of our own selves. Cf. G. C.
Lichtenberg, Gedankenbücher, ed. F. H. Mautner (Frankfurt, 1963) p.
170.
167. See the reflections by Gunkel, Genesis, p. 16.
168. For the original Greek and an English translation, see R.
Marcus, Philo (LCL; Cambridge, Mass., London, 1979) supplement 1,
pp. 20–21.
169. A. J. Williams, “The Relationship of Genesis 3:20 to the
Serpent,” ZAW 89 (1977) 357–74; the quotation is on p. 358.
170. H. Gressmann, “Mythische Reste in der Paradieserzählung,”
Archiv für Religionswissenschaft 10 (1907) 345–47.
171. Also see the linguistic study in Appendix I.
172. Albright, “The Goddess of Life and Wisdom,” AJSL 36 (1919–
20) 284ff.
173. An unpublished Ugaritic text contains data that may prove that
YHWH was also, in some circles, considered feminine. I am indebted
to Professor Marcel Sigrist.
174. R. Couffignal, De ‘L’arbre au serpent’ au ‘jeune homme en
blanc’ (Toulouse Cedex, 1993) esp. p. 22.
175. Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 9.
176. See Gunkel, The Stories of Genesis, p. 30.
 177. Von Rad, Genesis, p. 87.
178. Joines, ZAW 87 (1975) 1.
179. B. F. Batto, Slaying the Dragon: Mythmaking in the Biblical
Tradition (Louisville, 1992) p. 59. Batto rightly argues that the Yahwist
probably “derived the character of the serpent in part from Gilgamesh”
(p. 60).
180. See esp. Westermann, Genesis, vol. 1, p. 324, and O. H.
Steck, Die Para-dieserzaehlung: Eine Auslegung von Genesis 2, 4b-3,
24 (Neukirchen-Vluyn, 1970) p. 101.
181. See von Rad, Genesis, p. 90.
182. D. Jobling, “The Myth Semantics of Genesis 2:4b-3:24,”
Semeia 18 (1980) 41–49; the quotation is from p. 42.
183. Moberly is convinced that the Yahwist is thinking that the
human is often unaware of the processes that lead to decay and
death; see Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 17–18.
184. The curse that produces enmity between the serpent and
women is not easy to understand. Long ago, Reinach argued that the
miseries of menstruation and childbirth are to be traced to serpent
symbolism. In Iran, menstruation is deemed to be caused by demons,
esp. Angra Manyu, who is symbolized by the serpent. Reinach, “Le
Serpent et la Femme,” LAnthropologie 16 (1905) 178–80.
185. The Hebrew words “You shall surely die!” perhaps indicate
that the fruit is poisonous. For Hebraic forms for condemnation, see V.
P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis 1–17 (Grand Rapids, 1990) pp.
172–73.
186. There may be some glosses in the present account. See K.
Jaros, “Die Motive der Heiligen Bäume und der Schlange in Gen 2–3.”
187. One should not argue, as did biblical exegetes long ago, that
the Yahwist is referring to a day of God as if it were a thousand years
(cf. Ps 90:4).
188. See D. J. A. Clines, “Themes in Genesis 1–11,” CBQ 38
(1976) 490.
189. E.g., cf. Gen 15:18.
190. See Moberly, JTS NS 39 (1988) 14.
191. E.g., cf. Prov 12:16.
 192. There is the possibility that originally the story was much
shorter and the disobedience was immediately followed by expulsion.
See Westermann, Genesis, pp. 195 and 256–57; and Moberly, JTS NS
39 (1988) 19.
193. See D. O. Procksch, Die Genesis (Leipzig, Erlangen, 1924
[2nd and 3rd ed.]) p. 30 and H. Seebass, Genesis I (Neukirchener-
Vluyn, 1996) p. 120.
194. Batto, Slaying the Dragon: Mythmaking in the Biblical
Tradition, p. 59.
195. von Rad, Genesis, p. 81.
196. For a general discussion of serpent cults throughout the world
and through time, see S. A. Cook, “Serpent Cults,” Encyclopedia
Britannica 20 (1949) 368–71.
197. The Hebrew noun behind “belly” comes from the verb to bend,
which is better known in Aramaic. The noun “belly” appears elsewhere
in the TANAKH only in Lev 11:41; there again it is used with the verb
hlk and likewise pertains to reptiles or snakes.
198. R. H. Charles, The Book of Jubilees (Oxford, 1902) p. 26, note
to Jubilees 3:23.
199. Josephus, Judean Antiquities 1–4, trans. and commented on
by L. H. Feldman (Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary, ed.
S. Mason (Leiden, Boston, 2000).
200. See Kronholm, Motifs from Genesis 1–11 in the Genuine
Hymns of Ephrem the Syrian, p. 113.
201. For the Hebrew text, see E. G. Clarke et al., Targum Pseudo-
Jonathan of the Pentateuch (Hoboken, N.J., 1984) p. 4. For the
English translation, see M. Maher, trans. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan:
Genesis, p. 27 (italics his).
202. Midrash Rabbah, Ecclesiastes X.11. For the Hebrew text, see
(Jerusalem, 1993) p. For the English translation, see
H. Freedman and M. Simon, Midrash Rabbah (London, 1951) p. 274.
203. For an English translation, see H. Freedman and M. Simon,
Midrash Rabbah p. 162.
204. See Appendix I and especially the section on Gen 1:24.
205. I have enjoyed and benefited from conversations on this
perspective with A. M. V. Capers.
 206. Urbach saw that the serpent’s punishment “implies a change
in its original nature and qualities.” Urbach, The Sages, vol. 1, p. 422.
207. P. Joüon, “Le grand dragon, l’ancien serpent,” RSR 17 (1927)
444–46; the quotation is on p. 444.
208. See Ephrem Syrus, Commentary on Genesis 42.18–26; and
T. Kronholm, Motifs from Genesis 1–11 in the Genuine Hymns of
Ephrem the Syrian (Lund, 1978) p. 112.
209. See the reflections on imagination and art by P. Zanker, Un
‘arte per l’impero: Funzione e intenzione delle immagini nel mondo
romano, ed. E. Polito (Milan, 2002).
210. I am grateful to Noel Freedman for discussion on this issue.
211. It is clear that the serpent is in no way like God’s adversary as
“Satan” in the book of Job, in which Satan seems still to be among
God’s favored angels.
212. For pre-Yahwistic traditions, see L. Ruppert, “Die
Sündenfallerzählung (Gn 3) in vorjahwistischer Tradition und
Interpretation,” BZ NF 15 (1971) 187.
213. The words “good and evil” may be an addition by the Yahwist.
They look redactional.
214. H. Ringgren. Israelite Religion, trans. D. Green (London,
1966).
215. This point, always evident in my thought, jumped out as I
discussed the symbol of the serpent with Muslims in the Old City of
Jerusalem. They especially were fond of how Muhammed retold the
story of Moses’ use of serpent magic before Pharaoh.
216. See the comments by C. Westermann, Am Anfang: 1. Mose
(NeukirchenerVluyn, 1986) part 1, p. 38.
217. See A. Levene, The Early Syrian Fathers on Genesis
(London, 1951) pp. 75–76.
218. See E. van Wolde, Stories of the Beginning, trans. J. Bowden
(Harrisburg, 1996) esp. pp. 50–51.
219. Here I am grateful to Noel Freedman for conversations on the
meaning of Gen 3.
220. Gen 1:26 and 2:7 were problematic for Jews because they
implied that someone else, perhaps angels, made the human.
According to the Samaritan Malef, the Angel of Yahweh made the
human body and God created the soul or spirit of the human. See E.
C. Baguley, “A Critical Edition, with Translation, of the Hebrew Text of
the Malef” (PhD diss., University of Leeds, 1962) p. 234. I am indebted
to J. Fossum for this information; see his “Gen. 1,26 and 2,7 in
Judaism, Samaritanism, and Gnosticism,” JSJ 16 (1985) 202–39.
221. See J. J. M. Roberts, “Does God Lie?,” The Bible and the
Ancient Near East: Collected Essays (Winona Lake, Ind., 2002) pp.
123–31. Roberts points to the potential importance of understanding
the serpent and Eve in Gen 3, but he does not broach the issue of God
lying in this text.
222. Note other etymological connections: Latin provides homo
(human) and humus (earth); Greek has chthon (earth), chamai (on the
earth), and epichthonios (human). This observation is discussed by R.
Graves and R. Patai in Hebrew Myths: The Book of Genesis (New
York, 1966) p. 63.
223. P. Tillich, “The Meaning and Justification of Religious
Symbols,” in Religious Experience and Truth, ed. S. Hook (New York,
1968) pp. 3–11; the quotation is on p. 5.
224. As Westermann states, the author provides no explication for
the origin of evil. Westermann, Am Anfang, part 1, p. 38.
225. For permission to publish this photograph, I am grateful to
Dott. Silvia Gozzi and Dott. Chiara Silla, the Comune di Firenze, and
the Musei comunali di Firenze.
226. L. Hansmann and L. Kriss-Rettenbeck, Amulett und Talisman:
Erscheinungsform und Geschichte (Munich, 1966); see esp. Illus. No.
196 (anguipede demon), 4665 (numerous serpent amulets), 474
(amulet against a serpent’s bite), 608 (a hand with the finger closest to
the little finger as a serpent), 639 (an amulet with a serpent biting a
circle), 765 (a ring with a serpent [eighteenth/nineteenth cent. CE]),
and especially 827 (Adam and the woman with a female serpent
wound around a tree whose branches are depicted as antlers). See
Illus. No. 99, a wood cutting of 1487 from the Netherlands; it shows
Adam, the woman, and the serpent who is curled around the tree and
looking only at Adam. This woodcut is remarkable because Eve is only
beginning to eat the “apple,” yet Adam has already covered his
privates.
227. Contrast the work of Johann Heinrich Ftissli dated to 1799–
1800. This artist, who was fascinated by Milton’s Paradise Lost,
depicted “Eve” confronted by a much larger figure, the serpent, who
seems to be masculine. Cf. C. Becker, Johann Heinrich Fussli: Das
Verlorene Paradies (Stuttgart, 1997) p. 45.
228. See the color photograph in G. Neret, Michelangelo 1475–
1564 (Cologne, London, New York, 1998) pp. 34–35.
229.Midrash Tehillim, Comment Two. For the English, see W. G.
Braude, trans., The Midrash on Psalms (New Haven, 1959) vol. 1, p.
506. The Hebrew is from S. Buber, ed., Mdrsh Thlym (New York, 1947
[reprinted]) p. 300.
230. This seems odd; why did the author not say that the woman
left her parents? Is some form of beema, marriage, envisioned? If so,
then the narrative is extremely old (as I have been intimating), but not
all of it is old. See Skinner, Genesis, p. 70.
231. Gunkel, Genesis, p. 18.
232. The punishment of the serpent, according to the Midrashim,
was to lose his pride and arrogance; henceforth he can no longer walk
with an erect head—he must crawl in the dust. Jews and Christians
knew that the serpent does not eat dust, so a purely literal
interpretation was almost always avoided.
233. G. von Rad, Genesis, p. 87.
234. Westermann, Genesis 1–11, p. 239.
235. The serpent is sometimes incorrectly depicted slinking out of
Paradise, ashamed and powerless. See the penciled sketch of 1851–
52 by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld (1794–1872). See M. Bernhard,
ed., Deutsche Romantik Handzeichnungen (Herrsching, n.d.) vol. 2, p.
1752.
236. The Latin is from Biblia sacra iuxta latinam vulgatam
versionem ad codicum fidem (Rome, 1936).
237. Cf. Exod 4:3. L. Shalit relates how a poisonous snake became
unconscious and stiff like a staff when it was twirled overhead and held
by the tail. Shalit, “How Moses Turned a Staff into a Snake and Back
Again,” BAR 9 (1983) 72–73.
238. J. Milgrom, Numbers (Philadelphia, New York, 5750 or 1990)
pp. 173–74.
239. See the reflections by J. Frey in “Wie Moses die Schlange in
der Wüste erhöht hat” in Schriftauslegung im antiken Judentum und im
Urchristentum, ed. M. Hengel and H. Löhr (Tübingen, 1994) pp. 153–
205.
 240. E. W. Davies attributes the account to the Yahwist. See
Davies, Numbers (Grand Rapids, 1995) p. 215. I am persuaded that in
Num 21 the Elohist has incorporated earlier traditions, some of which
may be parallel to, or perhaps even from, the Yahwist.
241. Commentators once unanimously thought the story was
primarily from the Elohist; but see the comments and observations by
P. J. Budd, Numbers (Waco, Tex., 1984) pp. 232–33. M. Noth assigned
Num 21:4–9 to the Elohist. See Noth, Das vierte Buch Mose: Numeri
(Göttingen, 1966) p. 137. H. Jagersma thinks the narrative is primarily
E with dependence on J. See Jagersma, Numberi (Nijkerk, 1988) vol.
2, p. 85. My position is that articulated by J. de Vaulx, published in his
Les Nombres (Paris, 1972) p. 235.
242. In making these judgments, I am indebted to B. A. Levine,
Numbers 1–20 (Anchor Yale Bible; Garden City, N.Y., 1993; rpt. New
Haven) pp. 48–49.
243. For example, see J. de Vaulx, Les Nombres, p. 235.
244. Copper is pure ore smelted in a furnace. Bronze is copper
strengthened with tin. Brass, which appears much later in the Roman
Period (perhaps in the late first century CE), is copper mixed with zinc.
245. See also Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 252–54.
246. G. B. Gray, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on
Numbers (Edinburgh, New York, 1903, reprinted in 1956) p. 275.
247. A snake idol is on display in the Nechustan Pavilion, Eretz
Israel Museum, Tel Aviv (Display Case No. 40, item no. 4 and item
identification 90302). After studying numerous pictures of this copper
(gold-plated head) serpent (see Illus. No. 28), I was surprised that only
studying this one directly awoke in me feelings that it was alive. It is
easy then to imagine that it symbolized life and renewed life.
248. Milgrom, Numbers, p. 175.
249. Milgrom, Numbers, p. 460.
250. T. Staubli claims that Num 21:4–9 is to be understood as a
projection back into the Wilderness Period to substantiate the
Jerusalem cult until Hezkeiah’s reform: “Die biblische Geschichte ist
die in die Wüste zurückprojizierte Ätiologie eines Kultbildes, das bis
zur Reform unter Hiskija in Jerusalem stand.” T. Staubli, Die Bücher
Leviti-kus, Numeri (Stuttgart, 1996) p. 286.
251. H. Holzinger, Numeri (Tübingen, Leipzig, 1903) p. 93.
 252. M. Noth was convinced that Num 21:4–9 was not to be
understood as an etiological legend (“eine Ätiologie des ‘Nehusthan’
von 2. Kön. 18,4”). See Noth’s comments in his Das vierte Buch Mose,
p. 137. Noth was convinced that Num 21:4–9 was an occasion to
explain the history of a plague of serpents in the wilderness, during the
time of Moses. J. Sturdy, among other scholars, concludes that Num
21:4–9 is a “story” that was “developed to explain the origin of a
bronze serpent that stood in the temple of Jerusalem down to the reign
of Hezekiah.” Sturdy, Numbers (Cambridge, New York, 1976) p. 147.
253. J. Gray, I & II Kings (London, 1970 [2nd ed.]) p. 670.
254. B. Baentsch, Professor of Theology in the University of Jena,
was convinced that 2 Kgs 18:4 should be understood as a cult-saying
that explained the presence of a serpent image in the Jerusalem
Temple: “Wir haben es hier mit einer Kultussage zu tun, die
beabsichtigt, die Entstehung des ehernen Schlangenbildes im Tempel
zu Jerusalem (II Reg 18:4) zu erklären und dieses durch
Zurückführung auf Moses als echtes Stück der unter Jahvereligion zu
charakterisieren.” Baentsch, Exodus-Leviticus-Numeri (Göttingen,
1903) p. 575.
255. This position is held also by J. de Vaulx in Les Nombres,
p.236.
256. M. Noth, “Num. 21 als Glied der ‘Hexateuch’-Erzahlung,” ZAW
58 (19401941) 178–80.
257. J. A. Montgomery pointed out this double meaning and that
the root of “brass” or “copper” is lbs which means “to hiss.”
Montgomery, The Books of Kings, ed. H. S. Gehman (Edinburgh,
1951) p. 501. N. Freedman shared this information with me since
Professor Gehman, his teacher at Princeton Theological Seminary,
completed this commentary after Montgomery’s death.
258. D. T. Olson, Numbers (Louisville, 1996) p. 136.
259. J. Preuss rightly points out that the type of snake in the
wilderness with Moses, according to Num 21, is unknowable: “What
type of snakes are here referred to can only be guessed at.” J. Preuss,
Biblical and Talmudic Medicine, ed. and trans. F. Rosner (New York,
1978) p. 197.
260. H. Cazelles contended that seraph should be conceived “as a
winged dragon” (“comme des dragons ailés”). H. Cazelles, Les
Nombres (Paris, 1958) p. 101.
 261. The snakes were clearly poisonous. Most commentators
make this point clear. As A. Dillmann stated over one hundred years
ago, the story tells of poisonous snakes (Brandschlangen) through
whose “bite many people die” (“Biss vielen Leuten den Tod brachten”).
Dillmann, Die Bücher Numeri, Deuteronomium und Josua (Leipzig,
1886) p. 119. Dillmann draws attention to Strabo (15.2.7), according to
whom Alexander the Great lost many soldiers to snakebites. And, as
A. Drubbel opines, one should imagine poisoness snakes: “Men heeft
te denken aan giftige slangen.” Drubbel, Numeri (Roermond en
Maaseik, 1963) p. 105.
262. J. W. Wevers, ed., Numeri (Göttingen, 1982) p. 254.
263.‘l’n means “serpent,” and N’?p (Jastrow II.1376) “fiery” or
“poisonous.” For critical comments on the LXX in Num 21:4–9, see G.
Dorival, La bible d’Alexandrie: Les nombres (Paris, 1994) pp. 399–
401.
264. See O. Keel, M. Küchler, and C. Uehlinger, “Schlangen,” Orte
und Landschaften der Bibel (Zurich, Göttingen, 1984) vol. 1, pp. 163–
66.
265. T. E. Lawrence, Revolt in the Desert (New York, 1927) p. 93; I
am grateful to Milgrom, Numbers, p. 318, for this reference.
266. Yet the Greek seems odd. It is obvious that the Hebrew text
has the same prepositions before God and Moses, but the Greek
translator chose two different prepositions. I would expect the Greek
πρός to represent either or and Kaxà to translate or possibly

267. See A. Sperber, The Pentateuch According to Onkelos

(Leiden, 1959) p. 258 and note ad loc.
268. B. Grossfeld, trans., The Targum Onqelos to Leviticus and the
Targum On-qelos to Numbers (Edinburgh, 1988) p. 125.
269. A. Diez Macho, Neophyti 1: Tomo IV: Numeros (Madrid, 1974)
p. 193.
270. M. McNamara, trans., Targum Neofiti 1: Numbers (Edinburgh,
1995) p. 115.
271. E.g., Clarke, trans., Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Numbers
(Edinburgh, 1995) p. 247.
272. Sakenfeld, Journeying with God: A Commentary on the Book
of Numbers (Grand Rapids, 1995) p. 118.
 273. G. Garbini, “Le Serpent d’Airain et Moïse,” ZAW 100 (1988)
264–67.
274. Milgrom opines that the seraph was a “winged snake similar to
the winged Egyptian uraeus (cobra).” Milgrom, Numbers, p. 174. Also
see Milgrom, “The Copper Snake,” Numbers, pp. 459–60.
275. See, e.g., O. Keel, “Schwache altestamentliche Ansätze,” in
Die Dämonen, ed. A. Lange, H. Lichtenberger, and K. F. D. Römheld
(Tübingen, 2003) p. 215.
276. ; Philo, Agr. 108; F. H. Colson and G. H.
Whitaker, Philo (LCL London, New York, 1930) p. 162.
277. The brackets indicate words only implied in the ancient,
cryptic, Hebrew.
278. See K. Koenen, “Eherne Schlange und goldenes Kalb,” ZAW
111 (1999) 353–72. Koenen rightly explains the attribution of
Nechushtan to Moses as an etiological legend.
279. See the insights of A. Chouraqui in Au Désert: Nombres
(Paris, 1993) p. 239.
280. Martin Luther used the copper serpent of Moses to make two
points: the necessity of faith and the theological use of images. The
uplifted serpent of Moses appeared frequently in the early
Reformation, thanks to the artwork of Lucas Cranach the Elder. See D.
L. Ehresmann, “The Brazen Serpent, a Reformation Motif in the Works
of Lucas Cranach the Elder and his Workshop,” Marsyas 13 (1966–
1967) 32–47.
281. See Frazer, The Dying God (London, 1911) pp. 84–85.
282. McNamara, Targum Neofiti 1: Numbers, pp. 115–16.
283. The Samaritan Pentateuch is considerably expansionistic,
especially in Numbers; but for Num 21:4–9 there are no significant
additions. See K.-R. Kim, “Studies in the Relationship Between the
Samaritan Pentateuch and the Septuagint” (PhD diss., Hebrew
University, 1994) p. 205.
284. McNamara, Targum Neofiti 1: Numbers, p. 115, note 8.
285. It is no longer possible to assume with C. F. Keil that the
serpent represents evil: “[H]eidnische Anschauung ist nicht nur dem
Alten Testamente fremd … sondern steht auch mit der durch Gen. 3,
15 begründeten biblischen Anschauung von der Schlange, als
Repräsentantin des Bösen, und ist aus der magischen Kunst der
Schlangen-beschwörung geflossen, die das A. Testament als
abgöttischen Greuel verabscheut.” Keil, Biblischer Commentar über
die Bücher Mose’s (Leipzig, 1870) p. 297. Our knowledge of how
indebted the authors of the biblical books were to surrounding and
contemporary cults and myths no longer needs to be a source of
embarrassment. Also, as we have seen, the Genesis account of the
serpent cannot simply be interpreted as a symbol of evil.
286. Milgrom, Numbers, p. 460.
287. Joines, “The Bronze Serpent in the Israelite Cult,” JBL 87
(1968) 251.
288. T. Fretheim, “Life in the Wilderness,” Di 17 (1978) 266–72; the
quotation is on p. 270.
289. Dillmann, Numeri, pp. 119–20.
290. D. Flusser, “It Is Not a Serpent That Kills,” in Judaism and the
Origins of Christianity (Jerusalem, 1988) pp. 543–51; the quotation is
on p. 549.
291. J. Scharbert correctly perceived that the copper serpent was
not intended to convey magic: “Die Kupferschlange soll kein
magisches Zaubermittel sein, sondern die darauf Blickenden daran
erinnern, dass Jahwe Auflehnung bestraft, aber bei Umkehr auch
wider verzeiht.” Scharbert, Numeri (Würzburg, 1992) p. 84.
292. T. Fretheim, “Life in the Wilderness;” the quotation is on p.
270.
293. Pliny, Nat. 29.21; For Latin text and English translation, see
Pliny, Natural History, ed. and trans. W. H. S. Jones, vol. 8, pp. 228–
29.
294. See F. Valcanover, Jacopo Tintoretto and the Scuola Grande
of San Rocco (Venice, 2002) pp. 42–43.
295. On Deut 2:2–3, which is similar to 2 Kgs 18:4, see the
reflections of B. M. Levinson, Deuteronomy and the Hermeneutics of
Legal Innovation (New York, Oxford, 1997) p. 148.
296. My translation is based on the one offered by M. Cogan and
H. Tadmor, II Kings (Anchor Yale Bible; Garden City, N.Y., 1988; rpt.
New Haven) p. 215.
297. See B. O. Long, 2 Kings (Grand Rapids, 1991) pp. 193–96.
The introduction of Hezekiah follows the well-known Deuteronomistic
sequence of summary, synchronism, and references to historical
sources. See Gray, I & II Kings, p. 657.
298. Long contends that “the Dtr writer suggests that the reader
imagine Hezekiah as a consummate reformer who forged a new epoch
in Judah’s history.” Long, 2 Kings, p. 195.
299. Montgomery, The Books of Kings, p. 481.
300. Cogan and Tadmor, II Kings, p. 217.
301. Graves and Patai, Hebrew Myths p. 32.
302. I am grateful for discussion on Hezekiah’s reform with N.
Freedman.
303. See M. Weinfeld, “Cult Centralization in Israel in the Light of a
Neo-Babylonian Analogy,” JNES 23 (1964) 202–12, and the insights
by Cogan and Tadmor, II Kings, pp. 218–19.
304. Montgomery, The Books of Kings, p. 480.
305. See Long, 2 Kings, pp. 194–95.
306. Cogan and Tadmor, II Kings, p. 217.
307. F. M. Cross argues that the themes in the Books of Kings
“belong properly to a Josianic edition of the Deuteronomistic history”
(p. 279). See F. M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic
(Cambridge, Mass., 1973) pp. 278–89. Cross does not discuss 2 Kgs
18:4 specifically. For a critical review of attempts to date sources, see
S. W. Hol-loway, “Kings, Book of 1–2,” in AYBD 4.69–83.
308. See Long, 2 Kings, pp. 194–96.
309. There is no evidence, but it is conceivable that Manasseh,
Hezekiah’s son and the King of Judah from c. 687 to 640 (or 642), in
his attempt to revive the Canaan-ite religion in Jerusalem and the
Temple, reintroduced a serpent cult. We are only told that Manasseh
placed an image of Asherah in the Temple. It would be unwise to
assume that Manasseh never reemployed serpent iconography. If he
did, the serpent images are not the pulverized Nechushtan and similar
objects banished by his father.
310. See Isa 2:8, 17:8, 30:22, and 31:7.
311. Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 255.
312. See H. Niehr, Religionen in Israels Umwelt (Würzburg, 1998)
pp. 123–24, 129–32.
313. Herodotus called Astarte “Aphrodite Ourania,” and in the late
Hellenistic and Roman periods Astarte is Atargatis. See Niehr,
Religionen in Israels Umwelt, p. 201.
314. See the research and publications of the Ras Shamra
Parallels Project. See, e.g., S. Rummel, ed., Rash Shamra Parallels III
(Rome, 1981).
315. G. Hentschel imagines that the copper serpent was accepted
into the Jerusalem cult: “In Israel hat man die kupferne Schlange
zunächst auch akzeptiert und mit dem Jahwekult in Verbindung
gebracht (Num 21:4–9).” G. Hentschel, 2 Könige (Würzburg, 1985) p.
85, n. 7.
316. The gold cobra found in the palace at Ekron (Tel Miqne) dates
from the seventh century BCE. For a study of serpent realia found in
controlled excavations, see Charlesworth, Serpent Iconography and
the Archaeology of the Land from Dan to Bethsheba, in press.
317. S. Koh, in 1994, could conclude that serpent iconography
began to disappear “at the beginning of Iron Age I” in ancient
Palestine. We now can extend the time down until the end of the Iron
Age. See Koh, “An Archaeological Investigation of the Snake Cult in
the Southern Levant: The Chalcolithic Period Through the Iron Age”
(PhD diss., University of Chicago, 1994) p. 1 and Map 1.
318. Cogan and Tadmor, II Kings, p. 217, reject Rowley’s suggetion
as “highly speculative.”
319. H. H. Rowley, “Zadok and Nehushtan,” JBL 58 (1939) 113–41.
Joines also claims a Canaanite origin for the serpent cult; Joines, JBL
87 (1968) 245–56.
320. This conclusion has been defended by leading experts of this
period in the history of Israel, namely Bentzen, Rowley, Ringgren,
Zimmerli, and Ramsey. For a recent succint discussion, see G. W.
Ramsey, “Zadok,” AYBD 6.1034–36.
321. Joines, JBL 87 (1968) 256.
322. In this work, my transliterations are without the diacritics and
supralinears that confuse those who are not specialists in Semitics.
323. Milgrom insightfully suggests that “the paronomasia, or word
play, adds to its homeopathic powers.” Milgrom, Numbers, p. 174.
324. Montgomery, The Books of Kings, p. 481.
325. Long, 2 Kings, p. 195.
 326. I do not think it likely that Israelite religion was to a degree a
continuation of Canaanite culture, as G. W. Ahlström and N. P.
Lemche have concluded. See Ahlström, Who Were the Israelites?
(Winona Lake, Ind., 1986) and Lemche, The Development of the
Israelite Religion in the Light of Recent Studies on the Early History of
Israel (Leiden, 1991).
327. This is developed attractively by Koh in “An Archaeological
Investigation of the Snake Cult in the Southern Levant;” see esp. p.
140.
328. The precursor of the developed caduceus is found on an
intricately carved flint knife found in northern Egypt. See the drawing
and discussion in J. T. Burns, “Origin and Date of the Caduceus Motif,”
Journal of the American Medical Association 202 (1967) 163–67.
329. I am indebted to R. Reich for this insight shared with me as
we stood before the massive stone walls that he has recently
uncovered beneath “David’s City” in eastern Jerusalem.

7. The Symbolism of the Serpent in the Gospel of John

1. H. Gerhard, “Über Agathodämon und Bona Dea,” Akademie der

Wissenschaften (24 June 1847) 463–99.
2. See K. Aland, Vollständige Konkordanz zum Griechischen
Neuen Testament, 3 vols. (Berlin, New York, 1978–1983).
3. See P. Joüon, “Le Grand Dragon,” RSR 17 (1927) 444–46; B.
Renz, Der orientalische Schlangendrache (Augsburg, 1930); W.
Foerster, “ôpâKcov,” TDNT 2 (1964) 281–83. The nouns àareîç and
èprestôv do not receive a separate entry in TDNT.
4. See Foerster, “Ë/iôva,” TDNT 2 (1964) 815–16.
5. See Foerster, “ôcpiç,” TDNT 5 (1967) 566–71.
6. In L. Réau’s Iconographie de l’art chrétienne (1955), under
animals as symbols of Christ we are told that the following animals
symbolized Christ: the lamb, the dove, the fish, the hart (or stag), the
peacock, the eagle, the ostrich, the weasel, “le Bélier,” the scapegoat,
“le Caladre,” “la Carista,” the cock, the dolphin, the griffin, the lobster,
the water snake, the unicorn, the lion, the lynx, the pelican, the
phoenix, “la Sauterelle,” the serpent, the bull, and the calf. Lost in the
forest may be the living sprout: “The serpent is almost always an
image of a demon; however, it may, in certain passages, signify the
Christ” (p. 98).
7. See the image of the personification of sin from the Chancel of
Salerno (second half of the twelfth cent.) in W. Kemp, “Schlange,
Schlangen,” Lexicon der christlichen Ikonographie (1990), vol. 4, p. 79.
8. C. H. Dodd, The Epistle to the Romans (London, 1932), E. P.
Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (Philadelphia, 1977), H.
Räisänen, Paul and the Law (Tübingen, 1987 [2nd ed.]).
9. K. Ehrensperger, That We May be Mutually Encouraged (New
York, London, 2004).
10. See LSJM 2.1299.
11. The image of the serpent often is seen with a bird. We earlier
drew attention to the serpent together with the dove on ceramics found
at Beth Shan. Also see W. Fauth, “Widder, Schlange und Vogel am
heiligen Baum zur ikonographie einer Anatolisch-Mediterranen
Symbolkonstellation,” Anatolica 6 (1977–78) 129–57 with 12 Plates.
12. See the comments by A. Byatt in New Testament Metaphors
(Edinburgh, 1995) p. 36.
13. Among many publications, see Byatt, New Testament
Metaphors, esp. pp. 36 and 52.
14. Gregory of Nyssa, On Virginity 16; trans. W. Moore and H. A.
Wilson, “Gregory of Nyssa: On Virginity,” NPNF2 5, p. 362.
15. Augustine, On Christian Doctrine 1.14.13; trans. J. F. Shaw,
“Augustine: On Christian Doctrine,” NPNF1 2, p. 526.
16. Augustine, Sermons on New-Testament Lessons 23.3; trans. R.
G. MacMullen, “The Works of St. Augustine: Sermons on New
Testament Lessons,” NPNF1 6, p. 334.
17. Long ago, E. Nestle rightly saw that John the Baptizer and
Jesus use the expression “generation of vipers” to denote that the
ones targeted “are not ordinary serpents, but venomous vipers.”
Nestle, “Generation of Vipers,” ExpTim 23 (1911–12) 185. This
comment is significant; it reveals a perception of good and evil
ophidian symbolism.
18. Ovid, Metam. 3.531–32. Again in 7.212 Medea bewails her
plight and refers to the “serpent-born band” (vos serpentigenis).
Translations mine. For the Latin see Miller (LCL 1971) vol. 1, pp. 160–
61. The Latin “anguigena” denote the offspring of a serpent; the word
is typical of Ovid. See the Oxford Latin Dictionary (Oxford and London,
1968) vol. 1, p. 129.
19. O. Betz, “Die Proselytentaufe der Qumransekte und die Taufe
im Neuen Testament,” RevQ 2.1 (1958) 213–34.
20. See L. Schiffman in DJD 20 (1997) 41–42.
21. Brackets are used to denote restorations (the leather either has
a hole in it or the ink has been abraded away).
22. R. E. Brown concluded (when he wrote his Commentary) that
the Fourth Gospel reflects five stages of composition. See Brown, The
Gospel According to John (Anchor Yale Bible; Garden City, N.Y., 1966;
rpt. New Haven) vol. 1, pp. xxiv-xxxix.
23. See the contributions in P. L. Hofrichter, ed., Für und wider die
Priorität des Johannesevangeliums (Zürich, New York, 2002);
Charlesworth, “The Priority of John? Reflections on the Essenes and
the First Edition of John,” in Für und wider die Priorität des
Johannesevangeliums, pp. 73–114. Although M. Slee focuses on the
Didache and Matthew, she clarifies the importance of Antioch for
Jesus’ followers in the first century CE. See Slee, The Church in
Antioch in the First Century CE (Sheffield, 2003).
24. See esp. the contributions in Charlesworth, ed., John and the
Dead Sea Scrolls (New York, 1991); also see Charlesworth, “The
Dead Sea Scrolls and the Gospel According to John,” in Exploring the
Gospel of John: In Honor of D. Moody Smith, ed. R. A. Culpepper and
C. C. Black (Louisville, 1996) pp. 65–97; J. Ashton, Understanding the
Fourth Gospel (Oxford, 1991) p. 237; and E. Ruckstuhl, Jesus im
Horizont der Evangelien (Stuttgart, 1988) p. 393.
25. P. Gardner-Smith concluded that the Fourth Evangelist did not
know any of the Synoptics; see his Saint John and the Synoptic
Gospels (Cambridge, 1938). Now, see esp. D. M. Smith, John Among
the Gospels (Minneapolis, 1992 [see the rev. ed., published by
University of South Carolina Press in 2001]).
26. See Charlesworth, The Beloved Disciple: Whose Witness
Validates the Gospel of John? (Valley Forge, Pa., 1995).
27. M. L. Robert, “Dans une maison d’Éphèse: Un serpent et un
chiffre,” CRAI (1982) 126–32.
28. I am indebted to insights shared by S. R. F. Price; see his
Rituals and Power: The Roman Imperial Cult in Asia Minor
(Cambridge, New York, 1987); see esp. “Images,” pp. 170–206.
 29. I am influenced by the division of texts provided by M. E.
Boismard and A. La-mouille, Synopsis Graeca Quattuor Evangeliorum
(Leuven, Paris, 1986) p. 29.
30. Translation and italics mine.
31. The serpent plays a significant role in many modern poems and
it is usually a sinister creature. For example, Paul Valéry presents the
serpent almost always as the intruding and dangerous presence in the
garden of our lives. See Paul Valéry, Gedichte: Französisch und
Deutsch, ed. R. M. Rilke (Frankfurt, 1988) see esp. pp. 48–49, 52–53,
56–57, 72–73, 78–79, 90–91. I wish to express appreciation to Monica
Merkle, executive secretary of the Institut für antikes Judentum und
hellenistische Religionsgeschichte of the Universität Tübingen, for
helping me find poems about serpents. For poems featuring serpents,
in addition to those presented here, see Ernst Lehmann-Leander’s
“Der Sündenfall,” in M. Hanke, ed., Die schönsten Schüttelgedichte
(Stuttgart, 1967) pp. 41–42; and F. Hölderlin, Sämtliche Werke
(Leipzig, no date) pp. 261, 304, 821.
32. X. Léon-Dufour has written an insightful study of symbolism in
the Fourth Gospel, but he does not discuss the symbol of the serpent
in John 3:14; see his “Spécificité symbolique du langage de Jean,” in
La communauté Johannique et son histoire, ed. J.-D. Kaestli et al.
(Geneva, 1990) pp. 121–34.
33. W. Thüsing concluded that “lifting up” referred not to the
resurrection of Jesus (cf. Bultmann); it denoted only Jesus’ crucifixion.
This exegetical error arises by his missing the symbolism and focusing
myopically on only one theme. See his Die Erhöhung und
Verherrlichung Jesu im Johannesevangelium (Münster, 1960; cf. the
edition of 1970) pp. 7–8.
34. See esp. PssSol 14, 1 En 91 and 93, Jubilees 16, 1QS 8, 1QH
16, OdesSol 11. For a helpful, but incomplete, study of the tree and
plant in early Jewish thought, see S. Fujita, “The Metaphor of Plant in
Jewish Literature of the Intertestamental Period,” JSJ 7 (1976) 30–45.
35. For a succinct introduction, see J. Daniélou, Primitive Christian
Symbols, trans. D. Attwater (Baltimore, 1964).
36. J. G. Williams, “Serpent and the Son of Man,” TBT 39 (January
2001) 22–26; see esp. p. 26.
37. M. Claudius, Der Wandsbecker Bote, ed. W. Weber (Zürich,
1947) p. 259; for a discussion of the serpent in biblical theology see
pp. 255 and 344.
38. Brown, The Gospel According to John, pp. 145–46.
39. Carson, The Gospel According to John, p. 201.
40. Morris, The Gospel According to John, p. 199.
41. U. Wilckens, Das Evangelium nach Johannes (Göttingen,
2000) p. 71.
42. K. Wengst, Das Johannes-evangelium, 2 vols. (Stuttgart, 2000)
vol. 1, p. 134.
43. R. R. Marrs, “John 3:14–15: The Raised Serpent in the
Wilderness: The Johannine Use of an Old Testament Account,” in
Johannine Studies: Essays in Honor of Frank Pack, ed. J. E. Priest
(Malibu, 1989) pp. 132–47.
44. D. M. Smith, John (Nashville, 1999) p. 98.
45. John Chrysostom, Homilies on St. John 27; cf. (translator not
specified), “John Chrysostom: Homilies on St. John,” NPNF1 14, p. 94.
46. PE 1.10.45; for the Greek and English see H. W. Attridge and
R. A. Oden, Philo of Byblos: The Phoenician History (Washington,
D.C., 1981) pp. 62–63.
47. See M. G. Kovacs, The Epic of Gilgamesh (Stanford, 1989) pp.
106–7.
48. Arnobius, Against the Heathen Book 7, 44; ANF 6, p. 536.
Since this work is directed toward those who are not specialists in
early church history, I shall cite the early Christian texts according to
the popular and easily available ANF and NPNF.
49. B. J. Brooten thinks rightly that the Naasenes (or Ophites) did
not see the serpent as “the downfall of humanity,” but rather “as a giver
of wisdom and knowledge.” Brooten, Love Between Women: Early
Christian Responses to Female Homoeroti-cism (Chicago, London,
1996) p. 338, note 145. For a succinct introduction to the Ophites, see
A. Schramm, “Ophiten,” Paulys Realencyclopädie 35 (1939) cols. 654–
59, E. F. Scott, “Ophitism,” ERE 9.499–501, and G. Quispel, “Ophiten,”
Lexicon für Theologie und Kirche 7 (Freiburg, 1962) cols. 1178–79.
Also see Appendix IV.
50. Theodoret, Dialogues 3; trans. B. Jackson, “Dialogues,” NPNF2
3, p. 226.
51. See the images and insightful research published in
Charlesworth, ed., The Messiah (Minneapolis, 1992).
52. I am grateful to Professor Arthur Charlesworth for this citation.
53. See now esp. G. Theissen, The Gospels in Context, trans. L.
Maloney (Minneapolis, 1991).
54. Athenagoras the Athenian, A Plea for the Christians 29:10;
trans. B. P. Pratten, “A Plea for the Christians by Athenagoras the
Athenian: Philosopher and Christian,” ANF 2, p. 144.
55. Tertullian, Apology 14; see the translation by S. Thelwall,
“Tertullian: Apology,” ANF 3, pp. 29–30.
56. See also Tertullian, Apology 15; trans. S. Thelwall, “Tertullian:
Apology,” ANF 3, pp. 29–30.
57. On how Asclepius healed a youth who had been virtually
mortally wounded, see Lactantius, The Divine Institutes 1.17.
58. Athanasius, On the Incarnation of the Word, 49; trans. A.
Robertson, “On the Incarnation of the Word,” NPNF2 4, p. 63.
59. Clement of Alexandria, The Stromata 16; trans. Coxe, “The
Stromata, or Miscellanies,” ANF 2, p. 317.
60. Pindar, Pythian Odes 1.6–7. For the Greek and English
translation, see J. Sandys, The Odes of Pindar (LCL; Cambridge,
Mass., London, 1968) pp. 184–85.
61. Tertullian, Apology 23; trans. Thelwall, “Tertullian: Apology,”
ANF 3, p. 37.
62. Tertullian, The Chaplet 8; trans. S. Thelwall, “Tertullian: The
Chaplet, or De Corona,” ANF 3, p. 97.
63. Origen, Against Celsus 3.23; trans. F. Crombie, “Origen Against
Celsus,” ANF 4, p. 472.
64. See the texts cited in Appendix IV on the Rotas-Sator Square.
65. Justin Martyr, First Apology 22; trans. Coxe, “First Apology,”
ANF 1, p. 170. Also see Justin Martyr, First Apology 14 and 60.
66. Angus, The Mystery Religions and Christianity, pp. 307–9.
67. E. Dinkler, Christus und Asklepios (Heidelberg, 1980); see Tafel
II.
68. K. H. Rengstorf, Die Anfänge der Auseinandersetzung
zwischen Christusglaube und Asklepiosfrömigkeit (Münster, 1953).
 69. D. M. Smith, John, p. 98.
70. One of the major studies on typology is by L. Goppelt. He,
however, does not discuss the serpent in Jn 3:14. See Goppelt, Typos
(Darmstadt, 1969). Although G. W. Buchanan has focused only on the
Synoptics, his work is helpful; see his Typology and the Gospel (New
York, London, 1987).
71. Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars, trans. R. Graves, rev. with an
intro. by M. Grant (London, New York, 1989) pp. 104–5.
72. Suetonius, “Augustus,” 94.
73. It is possible that Suetonius’ statement, “Everyone believes this
story,” refers not only to the astrologer’s claim about Augustus, which
immediately precedes it, but also to the story of the birth of Augustus
from a snake. Suetonius, “Augustus,” 94 (in Graves and Grant, The
Twelve Caesars, p. 105).
74. Later, sometime in the second century CE, some words were
altered and 7:538:11 was interpolated.
75. On the date of the first edition of the Fourth Gospel, see
Charlesworth, “The Priority of John? Reflections on the Essenes and
the First Edition of John,” in Für und wider die Priorität des
Johannesevangeliums, ed. P. L. Hofrichter (Zürich, New York, 2002)
pp. 73–114.
76. For the Greek and English see Attridge and Oden, Philo of
Byblos, pp. 64–65.
77. The Greek verb means “become young again.”
78. For the Greek and English see Attridge and Oden, Philo of
Byblos, pp. 64–65.
79. Paul (and his school) used it thirty-seven times. See R.
Morgenthaler, Statistik des Neutestamentlichen Wortschatzes (Zürich,
Frankfurt am Main, 1958) p. 103.
80. See Appendix III.
81. See Charlesworth, “Reinterpreting John: How the Dead Sea
Scrolls Have Revolutionized Our Understanding of John,” BRev 9
(1993) 18–25, 53.
82. Josephus, War 5.108; H. St. J. Thackeray, Josephus (LCL 210;
Cambridge, London, 1968) vol. 3, p. 232.
83. The pool is not yet identified. It may be the Birket Mamilla,
which is the Pool of Suleiman the Magnificent that is west and a little
south of the western walls of Jerusalem. See J. J. Rousseau and R.
Arav, Jesus and His World: An Archaeological and Cultural Dictionary
(Minneapolis, 1995) p. 180. For the claim that the Serpent’s Pool is not
the “Dragon Well,” see J. Simons, Jerusalem in the Old Testament:
Researches and Theories (Leiden, 1952) pp. 162–63.
84. The use of kathös and houtös to clarify a comparison appears
elsewhere in the New Testament; often in the first line Jonah or Noah
appears and in the second the Son of Man Christology (see esp. Lk
11:30, 17:26).
85. The argument was presented by Bernard, Gospel According to
St. John (Edinburgh, 1928) pp. 112–13.
86. T. Zahn, Das Evangelium des Johannes (Wuppertal, 1983
[reprint of 1921: 5th and 6th ed.]) p. 204.
87. My translation is intentionally idiomatic. R. Schnackenburg, “Die
‘situationsgelösten’ Redestücke in Joh 3,” ZNW 49 (1958) 95 (italics
mine).
88. The translation seems misleading. Bultmann wrote “Jn V. 14 ist
allein die Erhöhung genannt.” In light of other comments by him,
Bultmann may be including both the crucifixion and the exaltation in
the ambiguous German noun that means “raised” or “elevated.” See
Bultmann, Das Evangelium des Johannes (Göttingen, 1959 [16th
printing; 10th ed.]) p. 110. In Bultmann’s Das Evangelium des
Johannes: Ergänzungsheft (Göttingen, 1959) he added, rightly against
Dodd, that the “Erhöhte” of v. 14 “ist doch der KaxaßÄc, von v. 13” (p.
23).
89. I agree with Bultmann that there is a discernible flow of thought
from 3:13 to 3:16. Other scholars see 3:14–15 either as originally a
separate logion (Colpe, Schulz) or as a dialogue with a loose structure
(Meeks). See the insightful discussion in H. Maneschg, Die Erzählung
von der ehernen Schlange, p. 388.
90. Bultmann, The Gospel of John, trans. G. R. Beasley-Murray
(Philadelphia, 1971); the quotations are from pp. 151–53.
91. M. Hengel, The Johannine Question (London, Philadelphia,
1989) p. 189 n. 69.
92. G. R. Beasley-Murray, John (Waco, Tex., 1987) p. 50.
93. H. Weder, “L’Asymétrie du salut: Réflexions sur Jean 3, 14–21
dans le cadre de la théologie Johannique,” in La communauté
Johannique et son histoire, ed. J.-D. Kaestli et al. (Geneva, 1990)
155–84; the quotation is on p. 161.
94. F. Hahn, Theologies des Neuen Testaments (Tübingen, 2002)
vol. 1, p. 631. Hahn correctly claims that “lifting up” includes not only
the crucifixion but the exaltation: “Hier ist mit dem ‘Erhöhtwerden’ nicht
nur der äußere Akt der Befestigung am Kreuz gemeint, sondern das
‘Erhöhtwerden von der Erde,’ die Aufnahme in den Himmel, die mit
Jesu Tod beginnt” (vol. 1, p. 650; also see vol. 2, pp. 246–47).
95. As L. Zani states, “l’evangelista Giovanni e i primi cristiani
utilizzino l’Antico Testamento per riflettere sul mistero della vita, della
morte e della risurrezione del Signore.” Zani, “Il serpente di rame e
Gesè,” in La storie de Jesu (Milan, 1984) p. 1339.
96. Basil, On the Spirit 14.31; the translation is by B. Jackson,
“Basil: The De Spi-ritu Sancto,” NPNF2 28, p. 20. In Letters 260.8,
Basil again takes up the typos of the serpent for Christ; each time he is
clearly influenced by the LXX’s sëmeion for “staff.”
97. E. Haenchen, John 1, trans. R. W. Funk (Hermeneia;
Philadelphia, 1984) p. 204.
98. Westcott, The Gospel According to St. John (London, 1919) p.
53.
99. R. J. Burns, “Jesus and the Bronze Serpent,” TBT 28 (1990)
84. Perhaps Burns sees this connection because she is primarily an
Old Testament specialist.
100. Beasley-Murray, John, p. 50.
101. Bernard, Gospel According to St. John, p. 113 (italics mine).
102. The Lord said to Moses: “Make yourself a serpent and put it
on a staff” ( ). Most likely Justin Martyr is
influenced by the LXX when he interprets Jn 3:14–15; cf. Dialogue with
Trypho 92 and 94.
103. Frey, “Die ‘theologia crucifixi’ des Johannesevangeliums,” in
Kreuzestheologie im Neuen Testament, ed. A. Dettwiler and J.
Zumstein (Tübingen, 2002) pp. 169238; see esp. pp. 223–24.
104. J. Asurmendi contends rightly: “[E]n el evangelio de Juan, la
serpiente sirve de tipo para simbolizar la nueva y definitiva salvación.”
Asurmendi, “En Torno a la Serpiente de Bronce,” EstBib 46 (1988)
283–94; the quotation is on p. 294.
 105. Augustine, “On the Gospel of John,” 12.11; the quotation is
from NPNF1 7, p. 85. As P. Th. Calmes perceived, there is a clear
“relationship between Jesus’ crucifixion and the elevation of the
serpent in the wilderness” (“rapprochement entre le crucifiement de
Jésus et l’élévation du serpent d’airain”). Calmes, L’Évangile selon
Saint Jean (Paris, 1904) p. 187.
106. J. P. Gabler, “An Oration,” p. 141.
107. The symbols of an anchor, a shore, a harbor, a sunset, the
completion of an inclusion in writing, a concluding summary by a
chorus in a Greek tragedy—all portray or indicate closure. See D. H.
Roberts, F. M. Dunn, and D. Fowler, eds., Classical Closure
(Princeton, 1998).
108.Parallelismus membrorum, or isocolon, is thought, written or
oral, that is focused on coordinated lines of similar length within an
isolated linguistic group of words. See the reflections by W. G. E.
Watson, “Hebrew Poetry,” in Text in Context (Oxford, 2000) pp. 253–
85; see esp. pp. 260–61.
109. See now the excellent study by K. Seybold, Poetik der
Psalmen (Stuttgart, 2003); see esp. pp. 83–127 and the publications
cited by him.
110. I shall not discuss meter since Freedman has convinced me
that Hebrew poetry has quantity, but not meter (as in Greek and Latin
and today in English and other modern languages). See D. N.
Freedman, “Another Look at Biblical Hebrew Poetry,” in Directions in
Biblical Hebrew Poetry, ed. E. R. Follis (Sheffield, 1987) pp. 11–27;
esp. see p. 27.
111. M. Hengel, “Die Schriftauslegung des 4. Evangeliums auf dem
Hintergrund der urchristlichen Exegese,” in “Gesetz” als Thema
Biblischer Theologie (Neukirchen-Vluyn, 1989) pp. 249–88.
112. D. N. Freedman, “Pottery, Poetry, and Prophecy: An Essay on
Biblical Poetry,” in The Bible in Its Literary Milieu, ed. V. L. Tollers and
J. R. Maier (Grand Rapids, 1979) pp. 77–100. As Freedman states:
“[P]rose and poetry are basically two different ways of using language.
Each has its own rules of operation, and it is obligatory to understand
each category according to its own pattern, even if the dividing line is
not always certain” (pp. 78–79).
113. The translators of the RSV (2nd ed.) erred, “He has risen,” but
the NRSV has translated the verb correctly: “He has been raised.”
 114. See LSJM, p. 1910.
115. Often ioudaioi in the Fourth Gospel should be translated as
“Judeans.” See Charlesworth, “The Gospel of John: Exclusivism
Caused by a Social Setting Different from That of Jesus (John 11:54
and 14:6),” in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, ed. R. Bieringer et
al. (Leuven, 2001) pp. 479–513.
116. See esp. H. Leroy, Rätsel und Missverständnis: Ein Beitrag
zur Formgeschichte des Johannesevangeliums (Bonn, 1968). Also see
T. Nicklas, Ablösung und Verstrickung (Frankfurt am Main, New York,
2001) pp. 232–37.
117. Also see the discussion by Y. Simoens in Secondo Giovanni,
trans. M. A. Cozzi (Bologna, 2002) p. 255. Simoens sees a triple
entendre in anothen: “The new, the first (or beginning), and the above”
(“di nuovo, dal principio, dall’alto,” p. 251).
118. As Frey states, crucifixion and exaltation in John are not two
events; they are one. Frey, “Die ‘theologia crucifixi’ des
Johannesevangeliums,” in Kreuzestheologie; see esp. p. 259, “Die
Erhöhung des Menschensohns wird hier in eine Analogie zur
Erhöhung der Schlange durch Mose in der Wüste (Num 21,8f) gesetzt.
Vergleichspunkt ist der Erhöhung, ihre Art und Weise … sowie ihre
Ausrichtung auf die Menschen, vor denen sie geschieht.” Since there
is no “lifting up” in Num 21, it is clear that the link between the two
texts, Num 21 and Jn 3, is the image of the upraised serpent.
119. That is, seven times in Mt, eight in Mark, ten in Lk, but twelve
in John.
120. According to the Acts of John 94, “the lawless Jews,” who are
governed by “the lawless Serpent,” are responsible for Jesus’ death.
121. See esp. Jonsson, Humor and Irony in the New Testament,
Leroy, Rätsel und Missverständnis, Culpepper, Anatomy of the Fourth
Gospel: A Study in Literary Design, and Duke, Irony in the Fourth
Gospel.
122. That Jesus’ words end in 3:15 seems likely, though not
certain. Schnackenburg opined that the monologue ended in 3:12 and
that verses 13–21 are the theological reflections of the Fourth
Evangelist. Schnackenburg, “Die ‘situationsgelösten’ Redestücke in
Joh 3,” 90.
123. G. R. O’Day, Revelation in the Fourth Gospel: Narrative Mode
and Theological Claim (Philadelphia, 1986), p. 25.
 124. See O’Day, ibid., pp. 25–27; Muecke, “Irony Markers,” Poetics
7 (1978) 365; Booth, The Rhetoric of Irony; Duke, Irony in the Fourth
Gospel, chap. 4.
125. Smith, The Theology of the Gospel of John, p. 114.
126. Smith, The Theology of the Gospel of John, p. 115.
127. See B. J. Malina, The Palestinian Manna Tradition (Leiden,
1968).
128. See esp. Borgen, Bread from Heaven (Leiden, 1965), W. A.
Meeks, The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine
Christology (Leiden, 1967), and S. Pancaro, The Law in the Fourth
Gospel (Leiden, 1975).
129. According to the Gospel of Nicodemus 1:1–2, Pilate tells the
Jews no one casts out demons, except by the name of Asclepius.
130. Commentators habitually miss the parallelismus membrorum
of Jn 3:14–15. J. Mateos and J. Barreto rightly understand the poetic
form and its importance for revealing the synonymity of the serpent
and the Son of Man: “Tutttavia il parallelismo e chiaro: al serpente del
primo membro corrisponde ‘l’Uomo’ del secondo.” Il Vangelo di
Giovanni, trans. T. Tosatti (Assisi, 2000 [4th ed.]) p. 184.
131. Augustine, Reply to Faustus the Manichaean 14.7; trans. R.
Stothert, “The Works of St. Augustine: Reply to Faustus the
Manichaean,” NPNF1 4, p. 209. Also see Augustine, On Forgiveness
of Sins, and Baptism 1.61.
132. As Mateos and J. Barreto state: “[T]he uplifted serpent”
signifies “liberation from death.” Il Vangelo di Giovanni, p. 184.
133. Not only the Fourth Evangelist but also many of his readers
knew by heart, in Hebrew or Greek, the text and interpretations of Num
21. So also R. Marrs, Johannine Studies, ed. J. E. Priest (Malibu,
Calif., 1989) p. 139.
134. As I. Nowell states, “Linking of a complex of traditions is
illustrated by the relationship between the Gospel of John and the
Book of Numbers.” Nowell, “Typology: A Method of Interpretation,” TBT
28 (1990) 73.
135. As J. Barr stated, typology when controlled and informed is
“wholesome and viable.” Allegory is not. Note Barr’s insight:
“[T]ypology is based on historical correspondences and thus related to
the Bible’s own historical emphasis; while, judged by that same
emphasis, allegory is non-historical and anti-historical.” Barr, “Typology
and Allegory,” Old and New in Interpretation (London, 1966); the
quotation is from p. 104. In Die Erzählung von der ehernen Schlange,
Maneschg sees the “Typus und Antitypus,” but he fails to explore or
show any interest in the serpent imagery and symbolism (p. 400).
136. P. Borgen shows how Isa 52:13 and Dan 7:13–14 shaped the
thought of Jn 3:14; both were joined to indicate an “installation in a
royal office.” Borgen also brilliantly demonstrated how traditions later
found in the Midrash to Ps 2 (“you are my son”) were interpreted in
light of Isa 52:13 and Dan 7:13–14 to reveal enthronement. See
Borgen, “Some Jewish Exegetical Traditions,” p. 252.
137. Charlesworth, “A Rare Consensus Among Enoch Specialists:
The Date of the Earliest Enoch Books,” Hen 24 (2002) 225–34.
138. E. Ruckstuhl, “Abstieg und Erhöhung des johanneischen
Menschensohns,” Jesu im Horizont der Evangelien, pp. 277–310.
139. O. Hofius, “Das Wunder der Wiedergeburt: Jesu Gespräch mit
Nikodemus,” in Johannesstudien, ed. Hofius and H.-C. Kammler
(Tübingen, 1996) p. 59.
140. See M. Theobald, Herrenworte im Johannesevangelium, pp.
587–88 (New York, 2000).
141. Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, vol. 3, p. 336. Le Grande
Davies also points out that “the serpent as a symbol of YHWH does
not appear after the time of Hezekiah in the literature of the kingdom of
Judah in the Promised Land.” He rightly stressed that the serpent was
“a symbol or token of the saving powers of the God of Israel.” See his
“Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” pp. 33 and 34.
142. Augustine, The City of God 10.8; trans. M. Dods, “Augustine:
The City of God,” NPNF2, p. 185.
143. The Seventh Ecumenical Council, Quaestio LVI; trans. H. R.
Percival, “The Seventh Ecumenical Council,” NPNF2 14, p. 554.
144. Theobald, Herrenworte im Johannesevangelium, p. 588.
145. Consult Morgenthaler, Statistik des Neutestamentlichen
Wortschatzes, p. 132.
146.Barn. 12.7; Lake, Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1, pp. 384–85.
147.Barn. 12.5; Lake, Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1, pp. 384–85.
148. See the discussion by M. Black, An Aramaic Approach to the
Gospels and Acts (Oxford, 1967 [3rd ed.]) p. 141.
149. This verbal form is the Ethpe. of zqp. My transliterations are
designed for those who do not know Semitics and the sophisticated
way of transcribing the foreign words. I expect that they can
comprehend how the word or words might sound.
150. See also the discussion by Frey in Schriftauslegung im
antiken Judentum und im Urchristentum, pp. 186–87.
151. G. Kittel, “ ; Gekreuzigtwerden: Zur angeblichen
antioche-nischen Herkunft des vierten Evangeliums,” ZNW 35 (1936)
282–85. This important article by a luminary in biblical studies is
virtually unknown. It is not cited by those who justly are praised for
knowing the work of other scholars, notably, R. E. Brown in his The
Gospel According to John, W. Thüsing in Die Erhöhung und
Verherrlichung Jesu im Johannesevangelium (Neutestamentliche
Abhandlungen 21; 1.2) (Münster, 1959; 1970 [2nd ed.]), H. Maneschg
in Die Erzählung von der ehernen Schlange, M. Hengel in his Die
johanneische Frage, and J. Frey in his three-volume Die johanneische
Eschatologie.
152. Many scholars today trace the beginnings of the Fourth
Gospel to Palestine; as G. Theissen states: “[T]he prehistory of the
Gospel of John leads to Palestine.” Theis-sen, Fortress Introduction to
the New Testament, trans. J. Bowden (Minneapolis, 2003) p. 146.
153. See Whiteley in ANRW II.25.3 and E. D. Freed, Old
Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John (Leiden, 1965).
154. J. P. Gabler, “An Oration,” p. 141.
155. He also knows the traditions preserved in Gen 26 according to
which Isaac’s servants find a well of freshwater (for the Evangelist
“living water”) in the Land and see it as a sign that “we shall be fruitful
in the Land (26:22).” The Evangelist refers to this episode as “the gift
of God” (4:10).
156. Brown, John, p. 322. See esp. Fabry’s discussion in
Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Alten Testament; vol. 5, pp. 468–73.
157. Sinaiticus (the first hand) and Epiphanius have “serpent.”
158. In 1889, E. Schürer rightly pointed out that the Fourth Gospel
should be seen within the world of Judaism; he, however, claimed that
Philo’s use of Logos was the probable origin of the Fourth Evangelist’s
thought. Note these words: “Der Evangelist sei ein Mann von
alexandrinisch-philosophischer Bildung.” See Schürer’s publication in
Johannes und sein Evangelium, ed. K. H. Rengstorf (Darmstadt, 1973)
p. 21.
159. It is disappointing to observe that neither of these significant
links between the Gospels and Greek and Latin literature is mentioned
or noted in the Hellenistic Commentary to the New Testament.
160. See the photograph in L. I. Levine, ed., Ancient Synagogues
Revealed (Jerusalem, 1981) p. 130. For a better photograph, see M.
Avi-Yonah, Art in Ancient Palestine: Selected Studies, ed. H.
Katzenstein and Y. Tsafrir (Jerusalem, 1981) Plate 41.
161. For a photograph see Levine, ed. Ancient Synagogues, p.
108.
162. For a discussion of this indissoluble knot see Avi-Yonah, Art in
Ancient Palestine, pp. 76–77.
163. See Levine, Ancient Synagogues, pp. 110, 154–55; for a
photograph of the lintel with the large snake see p. 156.
164. More than one Qappar is known, and the period is most likely
from the second to the fourth centuries CE.
165. J. Ma’oz concludes his study of synagogal iconography in the
Golan with the claim: “[W]e should emphasize the abundance of faunal
reliefs and the complete absence of mythological wildlife scenes, so
common in the synagogues at Capernaum and Chorazin.” Ma’oz in
Levine, Ancient Synagogues, p. 112.
166. See, e.g., Theobald, Herrenworte im Johannesevangelium, p.
201.
167. Bultmann concluded that the Evangelist derived the
interpretation of Num 21 “wohl durch die christliche Tradition.” Das
Evangelium des Johannes, p. 109.
168. A work related to these early Christian compositions is the
Didache. It is heavily influenced by early Jewish thought, as M. Del
Verme has shown. See Del Verme’s recent articles: “DID.16 e la
considdetta ‘Apocalittica Giudaica’,” Orpheus N.S. 22 (2001) 39–76
and “Didaché e origini cristiane: Una bibliografia per lo studio della
Didaché nel contesto del giudaismo cristiano,” Vetera Christianorum
38 (2001) 5–39.
169. See Maneschg, Die Erzählung von der ehernen Schlange, pp.
175–82.
 170. For Philo, see F. H. Colson and G. H. Whitaker, Philo (LCL;
Cambridge, Mass., 1929, 1999) vol. 1 [AllegoricalInterpretation] and
Colson and Whitaker (LCL; Cambridge, Mass., 1930, 1988) vol. 3 (On
Husbandry).
171. For reflections on Num 21 and the possible breaking of God’s
own commandment against making any images, see Tertullian, On
Idolatry 5; see the translation by Thelwall, “On Idolatry,” ANF 3, pp.
63–64.
172. Danby, The Mishnah (Oxford, 1933) p. 192.
173. J. Neusner, The Mishnah: A New Translation (New Haven,
London, 1988) p. 305.
174. Brown, John, p. 133.
175. M.-É. Boismard and A. Lamouille, L’Évangile de Jean (Paris,
1977) vol. 2, p. 115.
176. M. J. Lagrange, Évangile selon Saint Jean (Paris, 1927) p. 81.
177. See esp. D. Crossan, The Gospel of Eternal Life: Reflections
on the Theology of St. John (Milwaukee, 1967).
178. Ignatius, The Martyrdom of Ignatius, 12; trans. A. C. Coxe,
“The Martyrdom of Ignatius,” ANF 1, p. 145 (italics mine).
179. Trans. A. C. Coxe, “The Epistle of Ignatius to the
Smyrnaeans,” ANF 1, p. 87 (italics mine).
180. As M. M. Beirne states, Mary Magdalene and Thomas,
through the narrative, prove the Johannine shepherd imagery; they
respond to the shepherd’s calling them by name. See Beirne, Women
and Men in the Fourth Gospel (Sheffield, 2003) p. 210.
181. A gifted linguist might ask, “Since the Greek verb for ‘to touch’
also can mean ‘to eat’ (cf. Odyssey 4,60 and esp. Plutarch, Antonius
17[923]), is the Fourth Evangelist creating a subtle paronomasia here
with the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden?”
182. John Chrysostom, Homilies on Colossians 6; trans. G.
Alexander, “John Chrysostom: Homilies on Colossians,” NPNF1 13,
pp. 286–87. I altered the translation by removing an archaism.
183. See esp. W. Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest
Christianity, ed. R. Kraft and G. Krodel (Philadelphia, 1971) and H. E.
W. Turner, The Pattern of Christian Truth: A Study of the Relations
Between Orthodoxy and Heresy in the Early Church (London, 1954).
 184. For a list of titles of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel, see M.-E.
Boismard and A. La-mouille, L’Evangile de Jean, vol. 2, p. 53.
185. The words are dominical and ex ore Christi (placed in Christ’s
mouth).
186. A good case may be made for some authentic Jesus traditions
hidden behind Jn 3:14; see the arguments of C. L. Blomberg, The
Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel (Downers Grove, Ill., 2001) p.
183. Also see the general, often brilliant, reflections of P. N. Anderson
in The Christology of the Fourth Gospel: Its Unity and Disunity in the
Light of John 6 (Tübingen, 1996).
187. Lactantius, The Divine Institutes 3.20; trans. W. Fletcher,
“Lactantius: The Divine Institutes,” ANF 7, p. 92.
188. Also see Origen, Cels. 6.4.
189. Tertullian, Apology 46; trans. Thelwall, “Tertullian: Apology,”
ANF 3, pp. 50–51. Also see Tertullian’s The Chaplet 10, Ad Nationes
2.2 and A Treatise on the Soul 1, and The Five Books Against Marcion
3.28.
190. Ephrem had intensively and carefully studied Gen, esp. chap.
3; see the discussion by Kronholm, “The Cruse on the Serpent,” Motifs
from Genesis 1–11 in the Genuine Hymns of Ephrem the Syrian, pp.
112–18.
191. Ephraim Syrus, Hymns on the Nativity 1; trans. J. B. Morris,
“Nineteen Hymns on the Nativity of Christ in the Flesh,” NPNF2 13, p.
224.
192. Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures 13.20 (Cyril goes on
to stress that the saving medium is “wood,” and points back to Noah).
The translation cited is by E. H. Gifford, “Cyril, Archbishop of
Jerusalem: Catechetical Lectures,” NPNF2 7, pp. 87–88.
193. Gregory Nazianzus, The Second Oration on Easter 22; trans.
C. G. Browne and J. E. Swallow, “Gregory Nazianzen: The Second
Oration on Easter,” NPNF2 7, p. 431.
194. See the study of the concept of the Holy Spirit from Clement
of Alexandria to Origen by H. Ziebritzki in Heiliger Geist und Weltseele
(Tübingen, 1994).
195. Ambrose, Of the Holy Spirit 3.8.50; trans. H. De Romestin, “Of
the Holy Spirit,” NPNF2 10, p. 142. Italics are mine.
196. A similar exegesis is provided by Augustine, who then became
carried away by typology: “[J]ust as by gazing on that serpent which
was lifted up in the wilderness, they did not perish by the bites of the
serpents. For ‘our old man is crucified with Him, that the body of sin
might be destroyed.’ For by the serpent death is understood, which
was wrought by the serpent in paradise, the mode of speech
expressing the effect by the efficient. Therefore the rod passed into the
serpent, Christ into death; and the serpent again into the rod, whole
Christ with His body into the resurrection; which body is the Church;
and this shall be in the end of time, signified by the tail, which Moses
held, in order that it might return into a rod. But the serpents of the
magicians, like those who are dead in the world, unless by believing in
Christ they shall have been as it were swallowed up by, and have
entered into, His body, will not be able to rise again in Him.” Augustine,
On the Trinity 3.10.10; trans. A. W. Haddan, “Augustine: On the
Trinity,” NPNF1 3, p. 64. Also see Augustine, Reply to Faustus the
Manichaean 12.30.
197. C. Lantinga, “Christ, the Snake,” Per 6 (March 1991) 14.
198. See Theobald, Herrenworte im Johannesevangelium, pp.
209–18. He is convinced that Mk 8:31 is “den Basistext” for Jn 3:14.
199. Harrison, Numbers, p. 279.
200. See Attridge and Oden, Philo of Byblos, pp. 66–67.
201. Note also 11QPsa27.2–3: “And David, the son of Jesse, was
wise, and a light like the light of the sun … and perfect in all his ways
before God and men.”
202. K. Gemälde-Galerie in Vienna; Klassischer Bilderschatz, Nr.
999.
203. P. E. Testa drew attention to images of the cross as or with a
serpent; some of his interpretations are imaginative. See Testa, “La
croce come serpente,” Il simbolismo dei Giudeo-Cristiani (Jerusalem,
1962) pp. 278–82.
204. Berlin, SMB-PK, MSB, Inv.-Nr. 4730. For a photograph, see S.
Schaten, “Oberteil einer Grabstele,” in Ägypten Schätze aus dem
Wüstensand (Wiesbaden, 1996) p. 122.
205. H. Leclercq, DACL 15 (1950) 1356 (see Illus. No. 10881).
206. G. Cioffari and M. Miele, Storia dei Domenicani nell’Italia
Meridionale (Naples-Bari, 1993) vol. 1, p. 141.
207. The painting is now restored. On the destruction by the Turks,
see G. Mal-dacea, Storia di Sorrento (Naples, 1843) vol. 2, p. 213; and
F. J. [= Filippo Iapelli], “Mater Auxiliatrix,” Societas: Rivista dei Gesuiti
dell’Italia Meridionale 39 (1990) 53–54. I was assisted in studying the
Madonna di Casarlano by la Dott.ssa Lara Guglielmo, and express my
appreciation for her assistance during my tenure as Most
Distinguished Foreign Professor of the University of Naples.
208. A. Caruso, Mater Auxiliatrix (Naples, 1946) pp. 9–10.
209. See F. Japelli [= Filippo Iapelli], “Mater Auxiliatrix,” 53–54. I am
grateful to Father Iapelli [he prefers “I”] for his insights and assistance
as I studied the painting and worked in the Bibliotheca San
Sebastiano, Casa Professa del Gesù Nuovo, Naples. I am also
appreciative to him and his superiors for permission to publish my
photograph of the painting.
210. Johann Friedrich Overbeck (1789–1869) also depicted John
the Evangelist with a chalice from which a serpent ascends. See M.
Bernhard, ed., Deutsche Romantik Handzeichnungen (Herrsching,
n.d.) vol. 2, p. 1078.
211.“Giovanni il prediletto, con un calice di serpi.” A. Caruso, Ferite
Aperte (Bari, 1958) p. 7. Also see Caruso, Mater Auxiliatrix (the first
edition of Caruso’s booklet), p. 7.
212. According to the Acts of John and the Acts of John by
Prochorus, John’s death is peaceful; he lies down in a trench, with his
disciples watching, and dies. According to the Acts of John at Rome,
the apostle drinks a cup of poison before Emperor Domitian, but he
does not die (as prophesied for apostles in Mk 16:18). According to the
Syriac History of John (= History of St. John at Ephesus), the apostle
lived until he was 120 and died peacefully. According to the Gospels,
John either seems to suffer a martyr’s death (Mk 10:39) or did not
suffer martyrdom (Jn 21:22–23).
213. According to Liber Flavus Fergusiorum (c. fifteenth cent.),
John drank poison (but he did not die). See R. A. Culpepper, John the
Son of Zebedee: The Life of a Legend (Columbia, S.C., 1994) pp. 241
and 236.
214. This negative meaning seems apparent in other paintings,
especially the one by El Greco (1541–1614) in which John the
Evangelist holds a cup out of which a dragon rises. See Culpepper,
John the Son of Zebedee, p. 253. Perhaps some paintings of John the
Apostle with a viper in a cup reflect the legend that Aristodemus, the
high priest of Diana at Ephesus, forced John to drink poison (cf. also
the legend that Domitian forced John to drink poison). In each legend,
John drinks the poison but does not die.
215. The power of the serpent’s blood continues to be
paradigmatic. In Southeast Asia, men sometimes drink serpent’s blood
before entering a brothel. I am grateful to Magen Broshi for
conversations focused on serpents and on the aphrodisiac use of their
blood.
216. See J. Campbell, The Mythic Image (Princeton, N.J., 1974)
Illus. No. 279.
217. Our present research adds to the probability that Ignatius may
have known the Gospel of John.
218. P. E. Testa, “La mitica rigenerazione della vita in un amuleto
Samaritano-Cristiano del iv secolo,” Liber Annuus 23 (1973) 286–317.
219. Asurmendi, “En Torno a la Serpiente de Bronce,” 292.
220. A. Houziaux, Le Tohu-bohu, le serpent et le bon Dieu (Paris,
1997) p. 7.
221. Under the influence of the Hebrew Bible or Septuagint, some
scribe interpolated “bronze” into the text of Jn 3:14 in the Persian
Harmony. See W. L. Petersen, Tatian’s Diatessaron (Leiden, New
York, 1994) p. 261. On Jesus’ symbolism also see the brilliant insights
of H. Ausloos, “Mozes’ bronzen slang: Gods ‘teken van redding.’ “
Schrift 195 (2001) 69–71.
222. H. Lesetre in Dictionnaire de la Bible (Vigouroux, 1912) vol. 5,
col. 1675.
223. See Saint John Chrysostom, Commentary on Saint John,
trans. T. A. Goggin (New York, 1957) pp. 262–63.
224. In L’univers fantastique des Mythes, the reader is correctly
informed that the serpent in the wilderness (“le serpent d’airain”) is a
symbol of Christ (“symbole du Christ”). See A. Eliot et al., L’univers
fantastique des Mythes (Paris, 1976) p. 175.

Conclusion

1. See Charlesworth, ‘‘Bashan, Symbology, Haplography, and

Theology in Psalm 68,” in David and Zion: Biblical Studies in Honor of
J. J. M. Roberts, ed. B. F. Batto and K. L. Roberts (Winona Lake, Ind.,
2004) pp. 351–72.
Epilogue

1. Ophiology is the branch of zoology that studies snakes.

Ophiophilism is a love of snakes. Ophiolatry is the worship of snakes.
Other English words derive etymologi-cally from “ophis,” the Greek
generic term for “snake” or “serpent.” Among these are ophiomancy
that denote divination by means of serpents. This rich vocabulary
witnesses to our fascination—even preoccupation—with snakes and
serpents. The interest in snakes continues today, but the relation
between the human and the snake has collapsed. The obsolescence
of words like “ophiophilism” denote the human attempt to make the
snake extinct.
2. I am indebted to the reflections published by I. Vogelsanger-de
Roche in Marc Chagall’s Windows in the Zürich Fraumünster: Origins,
Content and Significance (Zürich, 1997); see esp. the outline on p. 13.

Appendix I

1. This appendix presupposes the study of serpent symbolism in the

preceding work. Note will be kept to a minimum and will tend to
highlight what is not available in the well-known and easily accessible
publications, especially the lexicons. I am grateful to D. Talshir for
conversations; see his “The Nomenclature of the Fauna in the
Samaritan Targum” (PhD diss., Hebrew University, Jerusalem, 1981 [in
Hebrew]). I understand he is preparing an English updated version for
publication. For further study, see M. Zor, (Tel Aviv, 1997)
esp. pp. 157–63, Y. Pelikas, (Tel Aviv, 1954), Pelikas,
(Jerusalem, 1972), and [no author], Fauna and Flora of the
Bible (London, New York, Stuttgart, 1980 [2nd ed.]) esp. pp. 72–74,
“Serpent, Viper, Adder, Leviathan.”
2. In this appendix, I recognize that the reader will probably be a
scholar trained in Semitics, but I will attempt, when possible, to include
the nonspecialist.
3. T. K. Cheyne, “Serpent,” Encyclopedia Biblica (New York,
London, 1902) 4.4391.
4. E. E. Day and G. D. Jordan, “Serpent,” ISBE (fully revised)
(Grand Rapids, 1988) 4.417–18; see p. 417, “The OT has eleven
Hebrew terms for serpents.”
 5. In Rabbinic Hebrew there are additional nonbiblical Hebrew
nouns that denote snakes or serpents: “dragon-snake” (“ppTT) in the
b. B. Bat. 16b and “dragon-snake” (hmp-n) in b. Ber. 62b.
6. A good, but not comprehensive, list is found in R. C. Stallman, “
,” Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and Exegesis, ed. W. A.
VanGemeren (Grand Rapids, 1997) 5.84–88. For studies of hapax
legomena, see H. R. Cohen, BiblicalHapax Legomena in the Light of
Akkadian and Ugaritic (Missoula, Mont., 1978) and F. E. Greenspahn,
Hapax Legomena in Biblical Hebrew (Chico, Calif., 1984).
7. See, e.g., Stallman, “Reptiles,” Dictionary of Old Testament
Theology and Exegesis, 4.1129–32.
8. M.-L. Henry, professor in Hamburg, reports that “Luther
übersetzt alle Arten mit Otter, sepha’ und siph’öni mit Basilisk, qippöz
mit Natter.” Henry, “Schlange,” BHH (1966) vol. 3, cols. 1699–1701;
the quotation is on col. 1700.
9. See the following rather popular work: K. Zimniok, Die Schlange
das unbekannte Wesen (Hanover, 1984).
10. Many complex meanings of the serpent are found in O. Seel’s
Der Physiologus: Tiere und ihre Symbolik Übertragen und erläutert
(Zürich, 1995 [7th ed.]), but they are not critically evaluated and are
too impressionistic.
11. See the questions raised by C. Paul-Stengel in her
Schlangenspuren: Reptilien in der Kulturgeschichte
(Königstein/Taunus, 1996) pp. 156–68.
12. Of the numerous publications, see M. Lurker, Symbol: Mythos
und Legende in der Kunst (Baden-Baden, 1984) esp. p. 60; E. J.
Edelstein and L. Edelstein, Asclepius: Collection and Interpretation of
the Testimonies, 2 vols. (Baltimore, London, 1945, 1998); K. Kerenyi,
Der Göttliche Arzt: Studien über Asklepios und seine Kultstätten
(Darmstadt, 1956); and H. A. Cahn, “Asklepios,” LIMC II.1.863–901
(text) and LIMC II.2.631–69.
13. I am preparing for publication an early Roman vase with
numerous serpents depicted on it. It was discovered by Clermont-
Ganneau near Bethzatha at the end of the nineteenth century. It is now
housed in the Palestinian Exploration Fund archives in London. For a
succinct and popular article on serpent symbolism, see R. S. Bianchi,
“The Ancient Mediterranean Good and Evil Snakes,” Faces: The
Magazine About People (October 1995) 6–9.
 14. In his commentary on Gen 3, A. Clarke claimed that if it were a
serpent that tempted the woman, then he went about on his tail before
the Fall. See the rebuttal by J. Bellamy in his The Ophion; or the
Theology of the Serpent, and the Unity of God (London, 1811) p. 7.
15. For example, see the four-footed seven-headed serpent-dragon
according to an Old Akkadian seal from about 2200 BEC (ANET no.
691; also see no. 671). Also see the picture of a serpent with human
arms and legs in Brooklyn Museum Papyrus 47.218.156 of the fourth
or third century BCE. See especially S. Sauneron, Le Papyrus magique
illustre de Brooklyn [Brooklyn Museum 47.218.156] (Oxford, New York,
1970). Consult A. Roitman, “ ‘Crawl upon your belly’ (Gen 3.14): The
Physical Aspect of the Serpent in Early Jewish Exegesis,” Tarbiz 64
(1994) 157–82 (Hebrew); for serpents with legs, see illustrations. See
the numerous drawings from Egypt of serpents with legs in K.
Michalowski, LArt de l’ancienne Égypte, esp. Illus. Nos. 386, 391, 392,
505. Also see Fig. 27 in this work.
16. See H. W. Greene and D. Cundall, “Limbless Tetrapods and
Snakes with Legs,” Science 287 (2000) 1939–41 and E. Tchernov et
al., “A Fossil Snake with Limbs,” Science 287 (2000) 2010–12.
17. See R. Bauchot, ed., Schlangen, trans. C. Ronsiek (Augsburg,
1994) p. 30 (photograph) and p. 60 (statement).
18. See the illustrations of “Demons, monsters and minor protective
deities” in J. Black and A. Green, Gods, Demons and Symbols of
Ancient Mesopotamia: An Illustrated Dictionary (London, 1992, 1998)
Illus. No. 53.
19. See Sauneron, Le Papyrus magique illustre de Brooklyn, esp.
pp. vii-29; also see Figs. 2 and 3.
20. PrJac 8 in OTP 2.721; trans. J. H. Charlesworth.
21. O. Keel, Das Recht der Bilder gesehen zu werden. (Freiburg,
Göttingen, 1992). Also see O. Keel and C. Uehlinger, Gods,
Goddesses, and Images of God in Ancient Israel, trans. T. H. Trapp
(Minneapolis, 1998) and A. Berlejung, Die Theologie der Bilder
(Freiburg, Göttingen, 1998).
22. W. Kramp, Protest der Schlange: Signale zum Umdenken
(Berlin, 1981).
23. F. S. Bodenheimer, in (Jerusalem, 1949) p. 338,
suggests that the noun represents the echis carinatus or echis
colorata.
 24. L. Alonso Schökel et al., in Diccionario bíblico hebreo-español
(Madrid, 1994), gives the meaning of “asp,” and “viper,” p. 84.
25. A. Bahat and M. Mishor, Dictionary of Contemporary Hebrew
(Jerusalem, 1995) p. 39 (Hebrew-to-Hebrew lexicon). Even if echis
colorata is appropriate today, we have no means to discern what
species of the snake was in the mind or eyes of an ancient author or
writer.
26. So also H.-J. Fabry in TDOT 9.359.
27. Much valuable information and reflection appears in E. Küster,
Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und Religion (Giessen, 1913).
28. This Greek noun is not found in the LXX, but Aquila used it to
translate nVQN in Isa 59:5. See W. Foerster, “s/iöva,” TDNT 2.815–16.
The LXX has ßaaiAiaKoc,.
29. See 1QHa10.28 [= Sukenik 2] (here the noun means
“emptiness”); 11.12 [Sukenik 3], 17, 18). See Charlesworth et al.,
GCDS (Tübingen, Louisville, 1991).
30. In the Hellenistic and Roman periods, the region was called
“Batanea.” See J. C. Slayton, “Bashan,” AYBD 1.623–24. With different
vocalization the consonants can denote Beth Shan (Scythopolis); see
N. Jechielis, Aruch Completum sive Lexicon Vocab-ula et Res, quae in
Libris Targumicis, Talmudicis et Midraschicis (1970) vol. 1, p. 207.
31. See, e.g., F. Brown, S. R. Driver, and C. A. Briggs. A Hebrew
and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Oxford, 1907) 143.
32. Cf. the Vulgate: Dixit Dominus: “Ex Basan convertam,
/convertam in profun-dum maris.”
33. None is cited in BHS for this construct.
34. The Syriac is an idiomatic expression; John Mard., apud
Bibliotheca Orientalis Clementino-Vaticana 2.227, uses the same
phrase but with the Syriac word for lion, which qualifies and explains
the whole phrase: “from the house of the teeth of a lion” (i.e., “from
within a lion’s mouth surrounded by teeth” or simply, idiomatically,
“from a lion’s teeth”). See R. Payne Smith, Thesaurus Syriacus
2.4231.
35. The word is not cited in M. Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish
Palestinian Aramaic of the Byzantine Period (Ramat-Gan, Israel,
1990), nor is it discussed in E. Qim-ron, The Hebrew of the Dead Sea
Scrolls, (Atlanta, 1986).
 36. In modern Hebrew, basan denote the large black snake in the
Golan.
37. Ugaritic btn become bsn in Hebrew and is equal to bsm in
Akkadian with the n to m shift. I am grateful to Professor J. J. M.
Roberts for discussing this issue with me.
38. Spirantized t becomes unspirantized in Aramaic, and b shifts to
p. See “|XI9, which means “snake,” in Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish
Palestinian Aramaic, p. 456.
39. KBL 1.165.
40. F. C. Fensham, “Ps 68:23 in the Light of Recently Discovered
Ugaritic Tablets,” JNES 19 (1960) 292–93. Fensham restores and
translates Ps 68:3 as follows: “From the hole of the snake (or Bashan)
I will bring back” (p. 293).
41. A very similar translation is found in the NKJV and defended by
M. E. Tate: “(He is) the Lord who says, / ‘I will bring back from Bashan,
/ I will bring back from the depths of the sea, / so that you may shake
the blood off your feet, / (and) the tongues of your dogs may have a
portion from the enemy!’ “ See Tate, Psalms 51–100 (Dallas, 1990) p.
161. A translation similar to that of Tate appears in H.-J. Kraus, Psalms
60–150, trans. H. C. Oswald (Minneapolis, 1989) p. 45. Note how this
translation has become standard; see S. Terrien: “Adonai said, I’ll bring
back from Bashan; / I’ll bring back from the abysses of the sea, / To let
you bathe your feet in the blood of your foes, / And even your dogs’
tongues will share in it!” (Terrien, The Psalms [Grand Rapids, 2003] p.
487).
42. W. F. Albright, “A Catalogue of Early Hebrew Lyric Poems
(Psalm LXVII),” HUCA 23 (1950–1951) part 1, pp. 1–39.
43. Note Albright’s words: “The bicolon is undoubtedly of Canaanite
origin; the name YHWH has displaced original Ba’al.” Albright, HUCA
23 (1950–1951) part 1, p. 27.
44. A. Weiser also suggested this emendation. See his The
Psalms, trans. H. Hartwell (Philadelphia, 1962) ad loc. cit.
45. Albright, HUCA 23 (1950–1951) part 1, p. 28.
46. M. E. Tate rightly states that Albright’s rendering demands
“obviously too much emendation,” but that Bashan as “serpent” has
been accepted by many experts. See Tate, Psalms 51–100, p. 167.
47. Albright, HUCA 23 (1950–1951) part 1, p. 27.
 48. See Albright, BASOR 46 (1932) 19; and Albright, HUCA 23
(1950–1951) part 1, p. 27.
49. See D. J. A. Clines, DCH (Sheffield, 1995) vol. 2, p. 281, in
which a second meaning is wisely given to |W2: “snake.”
50. C. Virolleaud, Le palais royald’Ugarit II (Paris, 1957) pp. 4–5
and Plate IV.
51. Also, see 15.134 rev. T.bsnt.trth[s; Virolleaud, Le palais royal
d’Ugarit, p. 6.
52. in can denote a “hole” for people (1 Sam 14:11, Job 30:6) or a
“den” for animals (Nah 3:13[12]). How can we explain the loss of a
noun in Ps 68:23? On the one hand, copyists often miss a word in
transcribing and one does not have to appeal for some homeoteleuton.
The Qumran Scrolls, including the carefully copied biblical sacred
texts, abound with supralinear corrections; that is, a word was missed
by a copyist and he or a later scribe placed it above the line. These
words, added above others, supply phrases or even clauses that were
missed in transcribing. On the other hand, if the text had been read out
loud and the laryngeal not carefully enunciated, then “hor” may have
been lost in poor elocution or hearing (elderly scribes could have
benefited by a hearing aid). We should assume that some of our texts
are lacking words; thus, they may not be so extremely cryptic
originally.
53. The poetic structure of verse 23[22] is a bicolon, 2 + 2,
preceded by an introduction: (The Lord said) + 2 (I will bring back from
the dragon-snake) +3 (I will bring back from the depths of the sea). For
a seminal study of Canaanite rhythm, see F. M. Cross, “Note on a
Canaanite Psalm in the Old Testament,” BASOR 117 (1950) 19–21.
54. Psalm 68 seems to presuppose a worship of some god,
perhaps originally Baal (now edited to YHWH) on Mount Bashan.
Mowinckel correctly perceived that Ps 68, in its present form, reflects
the Jerusalem cult, but opined that it reflected “an old originally North
Israelite psalm.” See Mowinckel, The Psalms in Israel’s Worship, 2
vols., trans. D. R. Ap-Thomas (Oxford, 1962) vol. 2, pp. 152–53.
55. Terrien, Psalms, p. 486.
56. Perhaps the editor of Ps 68 omitted an earlier “in it” or “on
Bashan” in the last colon of verse 17.
57. M. Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien (Saale, 1943).
 58. E. W. Nicholson, Deuteronomy and Tradition (Philadelphia,
1967); M. Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School
(Oxford, 1972); see especially “The Centralization of Worship—The
Chosen Place and the ‘Name’ Theology,” pp. 324–26.
59. See esp. F. M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic
(Cambridge, Mass., 1973) pp. 274–89. Cross dates “the fundamental
composition of the Deuteronomistic history in the eighteenth year of
[King] Josiah,” that is, “to the late Kingdom.” He makes room for “only
minor modification by a member of the Deuteronomistic school in the
Exile” (p. 289).
60. J. J. M. Roberts, The Bible and the Ancient Near East:
Collected Essays (Winona Lake, Ind., 2002) p. 343.
61. A. A. Anderson, Psalms (London, 1972) vol. 1, p. 482.
62. Roberts, The Bible and the Ancient Near East, p. 345.
63. Roberts argues that verse 30 must date “after Solomon’s
construction of that edifice” (i.e., the Temple). Roberts, The Bible and
the Ancient Near East, p. 344.
64. H. Gunkel, Die Psalmen (Göttingen, 1929 [4th ed.], 1968 [5th
ed.]) ad loc.
65. M. Dahood, Psalms II: 51–100 (Anchor Yale Bible; Garden City,
N.Y., 1968; rpt. New Haven) p. 131.
66. Dahood, Psalms II, p. 145.
67. The noun is the feminine plural of , “abyss,” “deep,” or
“depths.” See Isa 44:27.
68. Mowinckel, The Psalms in Israel’s Worship, vol. 1, p. 5.
69. See esp. H.-J. Kraus, Psalms 60–150, p. 48.
70. S. Mowinckel claimed that Ps 68 is essentially a unity. See
Mowinckel’s disagreement with Albright in Der achtundsechzigste
Psalm (Oslo, 1953); esp. see pp. 1–78. In the early sixties, F. M. Cross
followed his teacher, Albright: “Apparently each couplet is the incipit of
a longer liturgical piece.” See Cross, “The Divine Warrior in Israel’s
Early Cult,” in Biblical Motifs, ed. A. Altmann (Cambridge, Mass., 1966)
pp. 11–30; the quotation is from p. 25. Anderson finds Albright’s
atomistic approach “rather unlikely.” He finds that Ps 68 does not fit the
major psalm-types, although it is close to the Gattung of Hymns. He
labels Ps 68 “A Song of Procession.” Anderson, Psalms, vol. 1, p. 481.
 71. See P. D. Miller: “The possibility of an older unified poem
underlying this one cannot be completely denied, but the present state
of the text points much more clearly to a piecing together of isolated
bits of poetry or incipits.” Miller leans toward Albright (“various parts of
this psalm were not originally connected”), but judges that Albright has
atomized this psalm too severely. See P. D. Miller, The Divine Warrior
in Early Israel (Cambridge, Mass., 1973) p. 103.
72. Terrien, Psalms, p. 489. For the form and structure of Ps 68,
according to Terrien, see the diagram on p. 490.
73. Roberts, The Bible and the Ancient Near East, p. 345.
74. Ibid.
75. Mowinckel, The Psalms in Israel’s Worship, vol. 1, pp. 5, 11,
125, 170; vol. 2, pp. 152–53.
76. R. H. Charles misled scholars by emending, without manuscript
support, the conclusion of The Parables of Enoch, as I have frequently
pointed out. See OTP 1, ad loc.
77. S. A. Geller takes “hr Thm,” to mean “O mighty mountains.”
See Geller, Parallelism in Early Biblical Poetry (Missoula, Mont., 1979)
p. 213. Also see D. Winton Thomas, “A Consideration of Some
Unusual Ways of Expressing the Superlative in Hebrew,” VT 3 (1953)
209–24.
78. Kraus, Psalms 60–150, p. 55.
79. Although A. A. Anderson prefers the rendering “I will bring them
back from Bashan,” he understands that God’s enemies are to be
brought to punishment from any place in which they may have fled.
See Anderson, Psalms, vol. 1, p. 494. One should note that Anderson
was constrained to provide commentary on an established text, the
RSV. In Psalms 51–100, Tate draws attention to a dissertation that
contains the argument that God shall bring his enemies back from
anywhere they may be; see J. P. LePeau, “Psalm 68: An Exegetical
and Theological Study” (PhD diss., University of Iowa, 1981).
80. These lines represent a broken construct chain so that the
meaning may be the following: “I muzzled the Serpent of the Deep
Sea.” This rendering explicates the meaning I consider intended by the
author.
81. After completing my study of Psalm 68, I found Miller’s
arguments in his well-known monograph, The Divine Warrior in Early
Israel; cf. p. 110 (italics mine).
82. For the text, see A. Herder, ed., Corpus des Tablettes en
cuneiform alphabétiques (Paris, 1963) p. 17.
83. See Miller, “Two Critical Note on Psalm 68 and Deuteronomy
33,” HTR 57 (1964) 240; and Miller, The Divine Warrior in Early Israel,
p. 111. Contrast Roberts’ rendering (he attaches the mem in colon one
to the end of ‘37N, as an enclitic, and takes the verb to be a hiphil):
“The Lord said, “I will repulse the Serpent, / I will muzzle the depths of
the Sea” (Roberts, The Bible and the Ancient Near East, p. 344).
84. Dahood, “Mismär ‘Muzzle’ in Job 7:12,” JBL 80 (1961) 270–71.
85. The probability that smr meant “muzzle”—esp. in Job 8:12—
should not lead to the far more speculative suggestion that sbm meant
“muzzle” also, let alone in biblical Hebrew. In Job 8, the clause “set a
guard over me” is distinct from the idea “place a muzzle on me.” The
verb sbr appears in a negative sense in Job 10:14.
86. See, e.g., Miller, The Divine Warrior in Early Israel, pp. 102–13;
and Roberts, The Bible and the Ancient Near East, p. 344 (in which
Roberts argues convincingly for archaic linguistic features and
mythological elements that point to many contacts with the Baal myth).
87. Miller, The Divine Warrior in Early Israel, p. 111.
88. After I had completed this work, I discovered Albright’s study.
He opined, “It is likely that the place-name ‘Bashan’ had something to
do with vipers originally.” He did not offer further speculation. See
Albright, HUCA 23 (1950–1951) part 1, p. 27.
89. KBL, 1. 165.
90. . See A. Sperber, The Bible in Aramaic:
The Pentateuch (Leiden, New York, 1992) 1.351.
91. The Samaritan Pentateuch is similar to the BHS, except the
word for “cub” (73) is written without the medial vowel letter (wäw), and
the conjunction (wäw) is placed before the following verb (“and he
shall leap”). When we come to the maqqeph after the |ö, this is a
Masoretic nuance that does not appear in pre-Masoretic manuscripts
or Samaritan manuscripts. See A. Freiherrn von Gall, ed., Der
Hebräische Pentateuch der Samaritaner (Giessen, 1918) vol. 5, p.
436.
92. It is unlikely that the translators of the LXX would preserve the
name of the serpent, since they tend to omit the name of Leviathan or
Rahab (see Job 9:13, Isa 51:9, Ps 74[73]:15 Codex Vaticanus). See
Stallman in Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and Exegesis 3.87.
93. Albright, HUCA 23 (1950–1951) part 1, p. 27.
94. I would have been spared months of research if I had seen this
article before the present work had been completed.
95. F. M. Cross and D. N. Freedman, “The Blessing of Moses,” JBL
67 (September 1948) 191–210; the quotation is from p. 195.
96. Ibid., p. 208.
97. Recall the introductory comment that “P” denote a positive
symbolic meaning.
98. I know of no text in which (see the plural in Ex 16:20) means
“serpent,” although it can also mean “scarlet stuff” (Isa 1:18; cf. Lam
4:5). See KBL, 4.170102; E. Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological
Dictionary of the Hebrew Language (New York, 1987) p. 694; and
Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic, p. 577. The
Syriac noun means “worm,” “murex,” “firefly,” and “larva.” In the
Qumran Scrolls, often means “scarlet” (4Q179 Frag. 1 2.12; 1Q19
10.10), but in 1QH 19.12 we find “the worms of the dead” ( )
and in 11Q10, Targum of Job, we may have “wo[rm]” ( ). For a
discussion of the symbolic relation of “serpent” and “worm,” see
Küster, Die Schlange, pp. 30–31, 63.
99. See S. Golowin, Drache, Einhorn, Oster-Hase und anderes
phantastisches Getier (Basel, 1994) p. 33. During a study tour of
Megiddo, numerous scholars came to me and said they had seen
large worms, like snakes, crawling among the ruins. The worms were
large, black, and had many tiny legs.
100. See H. Vincent, “La fontaine de Rogel, Gihon, Zoheleth,”
Jerusalem Antique (Paris, 1912) pp. 134–41. For a modern succinct
summary on Zoheleth, see W. H. Mare, “Serpent’s Stone,” IDE 5.116–
17.
101. See R. Kittel, “Der Schlangenstein im Kidrontal bei
Jerusalem,” in Studien zur Hebräischen Archäologie und
Religionsgeschichte (Leipzig, 1908) pp. 159–88. Kittel offers his
opinion about the location of the serpent’s stone, and provides
photographs of the area near Silwan, as well as the serpent rock of
Petra.
102. See Y. Aharoni, “The Horned Altar of Beer-sheba,” 3–5. Also
see Le Grande Davies, “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” Fig. 26 on
p. 242.
103. It is possible that the altar was perceived by Adonijah to be
the altar of Israel’s God, but one should not forget that Adonijah is
rebelling against Solomon and seeking David’s throne. Le Grande
Davies, too boldly, claims that Adonijah “probably sacrificed at a stone
altar dedicated to ‘the Serpent,’ who should be identified as the God of
Israel.” “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel,” p. 217.
104. M. J. Paul’s suggestion that Leviathan might refer to a
dinosaur is impossible, since they died out long before humans
evolved. See Paul, “ ” Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and
Exegesis 2.778–80.
105. At the outset, I indicated that “N” denoted negative symbolic
meanings.
106. For citations of places where Leviathan appears in the
Targumim, Midrashim, and Talmudim, see N. Jechielis, Aruch
Completum sive Lexicon, ed. A. Kohut (New York, 1970 [original
1531]) 5.23–24.
107. While one must not conflate what is reflected in the Hebrew
Bible about Leviathan with Rahab or Satan, it is informative to see this
figure in light of creation motifs in other world cultures. See P. Bandini,
Drachenwelt von den Geistern der Schöpfung und Zerstörung, trans.
T. Prohn (Stuttgart, 1996). Alonso Schökel et al., in Diccionario biblica
hebreo-español, provides accurate information: “Leviatán, serpiente o
dragón mitológico; crocodrilo,” p. 388. He claims that Leviathan is not
a good translation for Job 40:25 and that crocodile is better.
108. See E. Lipiñski, La royauté de Yahwé dans la poésie et le
culte de l’ancien Israel (Brussels, 1965) and Lipiñski, TDOT 7.504–9.
There is a striking link between the Ugaritic Ba’al myth and Isa 27:1; in
both Leviathan is fleeing and twisting. See M. Dietrich et al., eds., Die
keilalphabetischen Texte aus Ugarit, 1.5 I 1–3, 27–30, and Lipiñski,
TDOT 7.506. Also see J. A. Emerton, “Leviathan and LTN: The
Vocalization of the Ugaritic Word for the Dragon,” VT 32 (1982) 327–
31. Quite un-convincingly, Stig I. A. Norin sought to derive both
“Leviathan” and “Tanin” from the Egyptian monster called apophis. See
Norin, Er spaltete das Meer, trans. C. B. Sjöberg (Lund, 1977) pp. 42–
76. One line of development in Israelite poetry went from “dem
ägyptischen Apep-Mythos aus und umfasst die eigentlichen
Urgewässerungeheuer liwjatan, tänntn undrähäb (sic)” (p. 76).
 109. The words for “fleeing serpent” and “twisted serpent” are
uncertain; see B. W. Anderson, “The Slaying of the Fleeing, Twisting
Serpent: Isaiah 27:1 in Context,” in From Creation to New Creation
(Minneapolis, 1994) pp. 195–206.
110. As W. Rebiger reports, Leviathan has a “schlangenähnliches
Wesen.” See his contribution in Religion in Geschichte und
Gegenwart, 3rd ed., ed. K. Galling, 7 vols. (Tübingen, 1957–65).
5.295–96. Koehler-Baumgartner, 1.498: “Meerdrache.”
111. For the Ugaritic texts, see Lipinski, TDOT 7.506 (= KTU
1.5.I.1–3, 27–30; KTU 1.3.III.41–42).
112. For seven heads, see the very early clay depiction from the
temple of Abu at Eshnunna (which is Tell Asmar). See H. Frankfort,
Stratified Cylinder Seals from the Diyala Region (Chicago, 1955) no.
497 (also see no. 478). For more, see also the serpent-like reptiles
collected in ANEP 670, 671, 691. For an excellent drawing of ANEP
671, see Black and Green, Gods, Demons and Symbols of Ancient
Mesopotamia, illustration 135.
113. C. H. Gordon focused on Leviathan only as a symbol of evil.
See Gordon, “Leviathan: Symbol of Evil,” in Biblical Motifs, pp. 1–9.
114. See ibid.
115. See A. Caquot, “Leviathan et Behemoth dans la troisième
‘parabole’ d’Hénoch,” Semitic 25 (1975) 111–22.
116. Also see, e.g., b. B. Bat. 74b-75a; j. Sanh. 10.29c; GenRab
7:4 (the Taninim are Behemoth and Leviathan); and Midrash Ps on Ps
23:7.
117. E. G. Clarke, with W. E. Aufrecht, J. C. Hurd, and F. Spitzer,
Targum PseudoJonathan of the Pentateuch: Text and Concordance
(Hoboken, N. J., 1984) p. 2.
118. The italics are those of the translators; the italics highlight the
differences between the Targum and the original Hebrew. The
translation quoted is by M. Maher in Targum Pseudo-Jonathan:
Genesis (Edinburgh, 1992) p. 19.
119. Consult M. Beit-Arié, “Perek Shirah,” EncJud 13.273–75.
120. My translation; for the Hebrew text, see N. Slifkin, Nature’s
Song (Southfield, Mich., 2001) p. 32.
121. Again, let me clarify that I frequently do not use the means of
representing Semitic sounds, since non-Semitists, for whom I am
writing, would not find formal transliterations meaningful or helpful.
Often my goal is to help readers who do not know Semitics get a feel
of the language.
122. See also Fabry in TDOT 9.364.
123. This Greek term is used to signify the sagacity of animals; see
Plato, Politicus 263d, Aristotle, Historia Animalium 488b15; also see
LSJM, p. 1956.
124. This tradition is probably J and expanded by JE. According to
P in Ex 7:9, the serpent is strikingly called a TOX I, “dragon;” the
redactor has also elevated the legitimization to a demonstration of
power when the “dragon” devours the serpents of the Egyptian
magicians (as Fabry states in TDOT 9.367).
125. The Hebrew term does not appear in Isa 11:6–8, despite
the impression given, unintentionally, by Fabry (TDOT 9.368).
126. For a general discussion, see W. Foerster, “őφις” TDNT
5.566–71.
127. Both these Greek nouns, as well as others, are translated by
the Coptic HOQ.
128. See also Z. Ben-Hayyim, The Literary and Oral Tradition of
Hebrew and Aramaic Amongst the Samaritans: Vol. IV, The Words of
the Pentateuch (Jerusalem, 1977) pp. 178–79.
129. See H. Dahan, English-Hebrew Dictionary (Jerusalem, 1997)
pp. 36, 529.
130. The meaning of the Hittite noun artaggas has not been clear.
Now, in light of its appearance on a tablet found at Boghazkoy in 1933,
it probably means an animal that molts; hence, it seems to signify
some snake. The word—artagga —most likely denote a class of
priests who are serpent-men. See H. G. Güterbock, “Le mot hittite
—artaggas ‘serpent,’ “ Revue Hittite et Asianique 6 (1941) 102–9.
131. See Bodenheimer, , p. 344: (Coluber
aesculapi), (Hydropinae), (Natrix tesselatus),
(Tarbophis martini), ( ) (Python),
(Coluber jugularis [asia-nus]), (Typhlos vermicularis).
132. See, respectively, C. Hammond, D. J. Johnson, and R. N.
Jones, BASOR 263 (1986) 77–80 and Y. Yadin, J. C. Greenfield, A.
Yardeni, and B. Levine, The Documents from the Bar Kokhba Period in
the Cave of Letters, vol. 2, ad loc. See now A. Yardeni, Textbook of
Aramaic, Hebrew, and Nabataean Documentary Texts from the
Judaean Desert and Related Material, 2 vols. (Jerusalem, 2000) vol. 1,
pp. 312 (partly but wisely restored), and 271 as well as vol. 2, pp. [103]
and [87].
133. See Bahat and Mishor, Dictionary of Contemporary Hebrew,
p. 464 (Hebrew-to-Hebrew lexicon).
134. For the text and translation, see N. Slifkin, Nature’s Song, p.
35.
135. See Fabry in TDOT 9.358.
136. The verb nhs cannot be a denominative form of nabas
because of its commonness in Syriac and Arabic. Boch claimed that
the verb derives from the noun because the serpent in antiquity was
thought to have powers of divination. R. Smith, however, pointed out
the verb is well known in cognate Semitics, but the noun is peculiar to
Hebrew. See the references and judicious comments by Cheyne in
Encyclopedia Biblica (1902) 4.4392. There is another apparently
unrelated noun that looks the same as nhs; it means “divination.”
Other words not to be confused with nabas, but spelled the same,
denote a city or personal names. See Le Grande Davies, “Serpent
Imagery in Ancient Israel,” pp. 62–82.
137. For the text and translation, see M. P. Horgan in Charlesworth,
ed., Pe-sharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents
(Tübingen, Louisville, 2002) pp. 58–59.
138. The pestilent snakes are called in Num 21:7.
139. Alonso Schókel et al., in Diccionario biblica hebreo-español,
prefers “Vibora, serpiente,” p. 560.
140. I am not aware of any instance of the noun in the
Qumran Scrolls.
141. Bodenheimer, in , p. 347, suggests that the
noun denote the naja haje.
142. Alonso Schókel et al., in Diccionario biblica hebreo-español,
provides only a generic meaning, making it very difficult to detect the
Hebrew behind a translation: “Serpiente, ofidio, áspid (no
especificado)” p. 629.
143. Cheyne rightly saw that this “word evidently denote a highly
poisonous snake, perhaps the cobra.” Cheyne, Encyclopedia Biblica
4.4393.
 144. This information helps clarify that different Greek scribes,
probably independently, worked on translations of the Hebrew Bible.
145. Among those who hold the view that the word “python” derives
from the Hebrew ptn are Fabry, TDOT 9.360, and Joines, Serpent
Sympolism in the Old Testament. Joines suggests that the “Greek
python may have come from this word;” p. 12 n.12. On python, see J.
Fontenrose, Python: A Study of Delphic Myth and Its Origins (Berkeley,
Los Angeles, 1959). The work, aimed at a wide audience of
specialists, includes a study of the dragon in the ancient Near East.
146. See R. E. Whitaker, CUL (Cambridge, Mass., 1972) p. 159.
147. See S. Golowin, “Basilisk, König über sämtliche Gifte,”
Drache, Einhorn, Oster-Hase, pp. 50–52.
148. See the study by S. B. Johnson, “Meaning and Importance of
the Uraeus,” The Cobra Goddess of Ancient Egypt: Predynastic, Early
Dynastic, and Old Kingdom Periods (London, New York, 1990) pp. 5–
11.
149. See O. Keel, Corpus der Stempelsiegel-Amulette aus
Palästina/Israel: Von den Anfängen bis zur Perserzeit (Freiburg,
Göttingen, 1995) p. 76. See the drawings in Keel et al., Corpus der
Stempelsiegel-Amulette aus Pälistina/Israel (Freiburg, Göttingen,
1997): Tel Abu Hawam nos. 21, 23, 24; Achsib nos. 59, 155; Afek no.
52; Tell el-Agul (7 km south-southwest of Gaza) nos. 16, 19, 28, 30,
44, 47, 48, 53, 54, 65, 66, 78, 128, 132, 140, 144, 146, 158, 159, 161,
162, 196, 209, 256, 263, 277, 278, 288, 299, 305, 309, 312, 322, 327,
389, 395, 396, 398, 401, 413, 420, etc.; Akko nos. 35, 36, 45, 50, 62,
68, 72, 190, 209, 212, 217, 230, 248 (as the left foot of an anthropoid),
260, 267, 275, 285, 290; Ashdod nos. 8, 32, 55, 64 (perhaps a cobra
instead), 36, 48, 64 (three uraei together), 65, 68, 71, 84, 95, 108 (five
uraei), 120; Askea no. 18; Asor (5 km southeast of Jaffa) nos. 5, 8, 14,
15; Atlit (14 km south of Haifa) no. 20, 33. Also, see p. 780 (Abb. 3–5
with the symbol of the sun god in a boat over a large undulating
serpent, and p. 789 [Abb. 21], and p. 790 [Abb. 24–26]). On the
relation of sun and serpent, especially in India, see C. F. Oldham, The
Sun and the Serpent: A Contribution to the History of Serpent-Worship
(London, 1905).
150. For text and translation, see J. M. Baumgarten and D.
Schwartz in Charles-worth, ed., Damascus Document, War Scroll, and
Related Documents (Tübingen, Louisville, 1995) p. 29.
151. D. J. Wiseman reads of Isa 14:29 in light of the
Akkadian appu, which means “tip” or “spur.” He thus prefers “deadly
poisonous snakes” in place of the usual “fiery flying serpents.” See
Wiseman, “Flying Serpent,” TynBul 23 (1972) 108–10. The connection
between the Hebrew and Akkadian is tenuous and one does not have
to presuppose Isaiah was thinking literally about a serpent that flies; as
in Herodotus (iii, 107).
152. P. Lum contends that the cockatrice and basilisk “are almost
indistinguishable; if there is a difference, the basilisk is more
completely reptile while the cockatrice retains more features of the
cock.” P. Lum, Fabulous Beasts (New York, 1951) p. 38.
153. , p. 348, suggest the noun specifies a Vipera and
is the Vipera palaestinae.
154. Alonso Schökel et al., in Diccionario biblica hebreo-español,
list the same meaning, “Vibora,” for both the and the and thus
fail to specify the distinctive nouns in the Hebrew (p. 643).
155. I assume that the Book of Isaiah is trifurcated: First Isaiah
(chs. 1–39), Second Isaiah (chs. 40–55), and Third Isaiah (chs. 56–
66).
156. Baumgarten and Schwartz, Damascus Document, p. 21.
157. KBL, 3.1118.
158. See esp.: TANAKH, The Holy Scriptures (Jerusalem, 1997);
see also BDB 891, KB 3.1118; E. Klein in A Comprehensive
Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language, p. 587, seems
confused, stating that this noun denote “a kind of bird (prob. meaning
‘arrow-snake’).” Alonso Schökel et al., in Diccionario biblica hebreo-
español, prefers “Vibora, serpiente” suggest only that the Hebrew
noun, vlQp, may denote, perhaps, a “snake” (¿Culebra?), p. 665.
159. M. Sokoloff in A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic
prefers “jumper,” which is etymologically sound (p. 499).
160. Fabry, TDOT 9.361. I do not think we can link the Hebrew
name for snakes or serpents with the termini technici in Latin
developed by ophiologists.
161. See Sperber, The Eible in Aramaic (Leiden, 1992) 3.69.
162. See Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the
Hebrew Language, p. 587. Also see KBL, 3.117.
163. I have doubts that a “hedgehog” was known in biblical times. I
have never seen one in Israel or Palestine, and it does not appear in P.
France’s An Encyclopedia of Eible Animals (Tel Aviv, 1986). France
wrote for a popular audience.
164. See the color photograph in J. C. Trever, Scrolls from Qumran
Cave I (Jerusalem, 1972) Plate XXVIII.
165. For a discussion of Aramaic influence on 1QIsa, see E. Y.
Kutscher, The Language and Linguistic Background of the Isaiah
Scroll (1QIsa) (Leiden, 1974); see esp. chap. 4 and pp. 566–67. Note,
e.g., that the scribe of this scroll in 24:7 inscribed for the Hebrew
the Aramaic form . Invaluable, for working on Kutscher’s
masterpiece, is E. Qimron, The Language and Linguistic Eackground
of the Isaiah Scroll (IQIsa) (Leiden, 1979).
166. See Trever, Scrolls from Qumran Cave I, Plate XII. Also see
Kutscher, The Language and Linguistic Background of the Isaiah
Scroll, pp. 281–82, 312.
167. The absence—not necessarily the omission—of the objective
pronoun is noteworthy.
168. See Isa 14:3, 22.
169. See, e.g., E. Kautzsch, ed., GKC, trans. A. E. Cowley (Oxford,
1910); P. Joüon, A Grammar of Biblical Hebrew, trans. and revised T.
Muraoka (Rome, 1991) pp. 4850; B. K. Waltke and M. O’Connor, An
Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Winona Lake, Ind., 1990) see
esp. pp. 24–25; and H. Bauer and P. Leander, Historische Grammatik
der habräischen Sprache des Alten Testamentes (Tübingen, 1922 [2nd
ed.]; reprinted as Olms Paperbacks 19; Hildesheim, Zürich, New York,
1991) p. 92.
170. As is well known, scriptio defectiva is earlier. Both so-called
plene and defective spellings are found at Qumran and Masada. See
the following publication: S. Talmon et al., Hebrew Fragments from
Masada (Jerusalem, 1999) esp. pp. 134–34.
171. Kutscher, The Language and Linguistic Background of the
Isaiah Scroll, p. 282.
172. I presently do not know of any Qumran text in which this noun
appears.
173. So H. Gunkel, Schöpfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit
(Göttingen, 1895) p. 32.
174. See Fabry in TDOT 9.358. Alonso Schökel et al., in
Diccionario biblica hebreoespañol, rightly report that this noun denote
“Rahab, monstruo o fiera mitológica,” p. 691.
175. So, BDB, p. 923; KBL 3.1193; Klein, A Comprehensive
Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language, p. 608.
176. Rahab is certainly “Egypt” in Ps 87:4 since it is associated
with other nations, viz. “Babylon,” Philistia,” and “Ethiopia.”
177. For more, see the excellent work by J. Day, God’s Conflict
with the Dragon and the Sea: Echoes of a Canaanite Myth in the Old
Testament (Cambridge, New York, 1985) esp. pp. 91–92. Also see
Day, “Rahab,” AYBD V.610–11.
178.“The helpers of Rahab” in Job 9:13–14 are reminiscent of
Tiamat’s “helpers” (Enuma Elish 4.107). Perhaps one should think
about Leviathan and Behemoth.
179. See Day, God’s Conflict with the Dragon and the Sea, pp. 6–7.
180. Also see 4Q381 Frg. 15.5 and especially the critical note to
the Hebrew text in Charlesworth, ed., Pseudepigraphic and Non-
Masoretic Psalms and Prayers, ed. E. M. Schuller (Tübingen,
Louisville, 1997) p. 14.
181. S. A. Cook suggested that “burning-serpent,” derived from
“the Egyptian winged griffin seref or the Akkadian sarräpu, ‘the burner.’
“ The Religion of Ancient Palestine in the Light of Archaeology
(London, 1930) p. 54.
182. See J. H. Charlesworth, “Phenomenology, Symbology, and
Lexicography: The Amazingly Rich Vocabulary for ‘Serpent’ in Ancient
Greek,” RB 111 (2004) 499–515.
183. See, e.g., KBL 12.1360.
184. The noun to TfJTC, was used to describe the monster that
confronted Andromeda (Euripides, Fragmenta 121). See LSJM 949.
185. See the mid-third-century fresco in the Catacomb of Saints
Marcellinus and Peter. For a color photograph, see F. Mancinelli,
Catacombs and Basilicas: The Early Christians in Rome (Florence,
1981) p. 41 (illus. 78).
186. In Das Buch des Propheten Jesaja (Göttingen, 1981 [5th ed.])
p. 127, O. Kaiser suggested this plural noun meant “geflügelte
Schlangen” (flying serpents), but then this implies the appearance of
noun no. 15.
187. Alonso Schökel et al., in Diccionario biblica hebreo-español,
rightly report that D’Q7V) means “Serpiente, dragón, áspid,” p. 739. I
prefer choosing a word that distinguishes this Hebrew noun—namely
“winged-serpents.” Also possible would be “fiery winged-serpents” to
bring out the etymological root “to burn.” See the insights shared by G.
B. Gray in The Book of Isaiah (Edinburgh, 1912) vol. 1, p. 105.
188. See the judicious response by J. N. Oswalt in The Book of
Isaiah (Grand Rapids, 1986) p. 179. H. Wildberger opts for “a serpent-
shaped demon” (“einen schlangen-gestaltigen Dämon”). Jesaja
(Neukirchen-Vluyn, 1972) p. 247.
189. E. J. Kissane, The Book of Isaiah, I (Dublin, 1941) p. 74.
190. I. Engnell, The Call of Isaiah (Uppsala, 1949) p. 33.
191. R. B. Y. Scott, “The Book of Isaiah,” The Interpreter’s Bible 5
(New York, 1956) p. 208.
192. G. M. Tucker, “The Book of Isaiah 1–39,” in The New
Interpreter’s Bible (Nashville, 2001) vol. 6, p. 102. We have discussed
serpent iconography that shows the serpent with wings; hence, the
Seraphim can have wings and be serpents.
193. J. Blenkinsopp insightfully states that Seraphim “is elsewhere
a poisonous snake,” and that it “is tempting to associate this aspect of
the vision scenario with the cult object in the Jerusalem Temple known
as Nehushtan, a bronze serpent with healing powers of Mosaic origin
to which incense was offered (2Kgs 18:4 cf. Num 21:6, 8–9).” Isaiah
1–39 (New York, London, 2000) p. 225.
194. K. Joines, JBL 86 (967) 410–15; O. Keel and C. Uehlinger,
Gods, Goddesses, and Images of Gods, p. 273. The contributor of
D’Q7V) to KBL 3.1360 seems so blinded by the traditional approach to
Hebrew lexicography that he misses Keel’s point. Apparently he never
studied the lexicography of iconography in the ancient Near East. The
contributor seems to think that ophidian iconography cannot have
human form.
195. G. W. E. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, ed. K. Baltzer (Minneapolis,
2001) p. 296.
196. See H. Freedman, trans., Midrash Rabbah: Genesis (London,
1951) vol. 1, p. 178.
197. I presently do not know of a passage in the Qumran Scrolls in
which this noun appears. While Ethiopic has numerous loanwords
from Hebrew, Aramaic, Syriac, Greek, Coptic, and Arabic, it has
tended to use only names for snake that are unique to it. For example,
“adder” in Ethiopic is ‘f ot. See W. Leslau, Comprehensive Dictionary
of Ge ‘ez (Classical Ethiopic) (Wiesbaden, 1991).
198. In the Peshitta this Hebrew noun is translated by barmänä
which denote some form of snake.
199. Bodenheimer, in N-pnn nw-Nl ‘nn, p. 349 suggests that
“pD’DV) is the Cerastes cerastes or Cerastes cornutus.
200. For a drawing of a cockatrice, see France, An Encyclopedia of
Bible Animals, p. 42.
201. Cohen, Biblical Hapax Legomena in the Light of Akkadian and
Ugaritic, p. 109.
202. Today this noun often denote the crocodile (Crocodilus
nilotica).
203. Both “dragon” and “dragons” appear in many passages in the
Qumran Scrolls; cf. Charlesworth, GCDS, esp. pp. 522–23.
204. See Jechielis, Aruch Completum sive Lexicon 8.251–52.
205. See the citations collected by Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish
Palestinian Aramaic, pp. 344–45.
206. Theodotion translated |’3n in Job 3:8 by öpÄKcov. See
Foerster, “öpÄKcov,” TDNT 2.283.
207.The Hebrew Scriptures: Hebrew and English (Jerusalem,
1996) p. 1095.
208. Words within brackets are mine.
209. U. Cassuto, The Goddess Anath, trans. I. Abrahams
(Jerusalem, 1971) pp. 92–93.
210. For the Hebrew text and translation, see N. Slifkin, Nature’s
Song, p. 32.
211. Many Aramaic and Syriac nouns have erroneously been
claimed to denote a “snake;” see I. Löw, “Aramäische
Schlangennamen,” Fauna und Mineralien der Juden (Hildesheim,
1969) pp. 35–40. He suggested eleven nouns probably denoted snake
in “Aramaic” and Syriac. Other Syriac nouns for “snake” that he did not
include are dypsds (vocalization uncertain) (this is a Greek loanword;
see Appendix II), and bewyä that is paralleled by Persian, Arabic, and
possibly pre-biblical Hebrew. On bewyä and Arabic, see Hassano Bar
Bahlule’s Lexicon Syriacum, ed. R. Duval; vol. 1, col. 724. Löw
correctly rejected nouns that did not mean “snake.”
212. See Löw, “Aramäische Schlangennamen,” Fauna und
Mineralien der Juden, p. 35. I do not find this noun in the lexicons; it is
not, e.g., in Sokoloff’s A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic and
he often cites Löw’s research.
213. See Löw, Fauna und Mineralien der Juden, p. 35. The noun is
not listed in Sokoloff’s A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic.
214. See Brockelmann, LexSyr, p. 134.
215. See Brockelmann, LexSyr, p. 162.
216. See ‘l’n in Jastrow’s A Dictionary of the Targumim, p. 452 and
‘lvn in Soko-loff’s A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic, p. 197.
217. See Löw, Fauna und Mineralien der Juden, p. 37.
218. See Brockelmann, Lex Syr, p. 451.
219. See Löw, Fauna und Mineralien der Juden, pp. 37–38.
220. See I. Löw, Fauna und Mineralien der Juden, p. 38.
221. See Löw, Fauna und Mineralien der Juden, p. 40. The noun is
not listed in Sokoloff’s A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic.
222. See Löw, Fauna und Mineralien der Juden, p. 35.
223. See L. Stork, “Schlange,” Lexikon der Ägyptologie (1983) 4.1
645.
224. Pap. Brooklyn Mus. No. 47.218.48 and No. 47.218.85. See S.
Sauneron, Un traité Égyptien d’ophiologie (Cairo, 1989). I am grateful
to Diane Bergman (librarian of the Wilbour Library of Egyptology) and
Edward Bleiberg (associate curator) for assistance and permission to
study this papyrus.
225. See Appendix II; also see C. Leitz, Die Schlangennamen in
den ägyptischen und griechischen Giftbüchern (Mainz, Stuttgart, 1997)
pp. 16–17. The attempt to give the Latin names developed by
biologists to each Greek name misses four points: such precision is
anachronistic, the ancients usually did not know about the types of
snakes, they often thought generically, and they were often
inconsistent.
226. This is the only meaning supplied by KBL, 2.528.
227. See OED 1.92.
 228. See also Muraoka, Hebrew/Aramaic Index to the Septuagint,
p. 75.
229. See Lev 11:30, first word in the list of unclean reptiles; also
note the meaning given in KBL 1.70. J. Milgrom also prefers gecko for
hä’änäqä. See his masterful Leviticus 1–16 (Anchor Yale Bible;
Garden City, N.Y., 1991; rpt. New Haven) p. 671.
230. In his Hexapla, Origen gave an explanation for only the last
word in the list; cf. F. Field, Origenis Hexaplorum (Oxford, 1875) 1.186.
231. B. A. Levine opted for “lizard;” see his Leviticus (Philadelphia,
New York, 5749/1989) p. 69.
232. Consult I. J. Gleb et al., The Assyrian Dictionary 6.230 or R.
Payne Smith, Thesaurus Syriacus 1.1284–85. The Aramaic noun
NDOin is not listed in the most recent Aramaic lexicons; that is, it is in
neither Sokoloff’s A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic (1990)
nor Koehler-Baumgartner’s The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the
Old Testament: Aramaic, vol. 5 (2000).
233. See the passages noted in LSJM 691.
234. Most exegetes, commentators, and translators have wisely
not opted for “the swarming [flying] thing that swarms [flies] over the
earth,” which would exclude snakes. Nevertheless, some early Jewish
thinkers were free to choose that rendering.
235. See the passages cited in Sokoloff’s A Dictionary of Jewish
Palestinian Aramaic, p. 568. Note also that the compilers of Perek
Shirah, in chapter 6, have the “Creeping Creatures” and the “Prolific
Creeping Creatures” praising God, quoting respectively Pss 104:31
and 128:3. For the Hebrew and English translation, see Slifkin,
Nature’s Song, p. 35.
236. The plural of seret appears in Rashi’s commentary; the noun
does not appear in the plural in the Hebrew Bible.
237. I am indebted to Slifkin for this reference; see his Nature’s
Song, p. 412.
238. I have enjoyed and benefited from conversations on this
perspective with A. M. V. Capers.
239. The Hebrew noun , cf. Akkadian nammastû(m), is not to be
confused with the Rabbinic , “evening” (which also appears as a
loanword in Syriac . The noun means “crawling,” but in extant
texts it does not clearly denote a snake (cf. the verb in Ps 104:20: all
the beasts of the forest “crawl” about in the darkness of night). It
specifies a worm (cf. Sir 10:11 [the Greek is ]) or an eel or sea
monster (Ps 104:25). In Ps 148:10 , “creeping things” is contrasted
to “a flying fowl.” It appears in CD 12.12 and denote “swarming
creatures,” like locusts.” Cf. also 4Q381 Frg. 1.10; perhaps restore .
It is odd to observe that in T. Muraoka’s Hebrew/Aramaic Index to the
Septuagint (Grand Rapids, 1998) WOT is said to equal èprestôç,
which denote a “reptile” including a snake.
240. Among those experts who should be celebrated, few are as
renowned as Elisha Qimron. He has demonstrated how the Qumran
Scrolls have increased our knowledge of Hebrew vocabulary. See his
numerous publications, especially his well-known grammar of Qumran
Hebrew.
241. The supplement begins in the compact edition in vol. 2, pp.
3873 ff. The new entry would appear in vol. 2 on p. 3880.
242. See, e.g., Brockelmann, LexSyr, p. 220a.
243. In Ethiopic we find a word for “life” (hiwat) but no cognate, as
in Arabic, Persian, Aramaic, and Syriac, to it for snake.
244. See Lane, Arabic-English Lexicon Book I, Part 1 (1863) ad
loc. cit. Ch. Clermont-Ganneau reported that the Bedouins know a
snake they call haiyé taiyâra, “flying serpent.” See his “Les cerfs
mangeurs de serpents,” Recueil d’Archéologie Orientale (Paris, 1901)
pp. 319–22.
245. F. Steingass, A Comprehensive Persian-English Dictionary
(London, 1947) p. 434.
246. In Samaritan Aramaic NVJPO denote “snake.” I am grateful to
Professor D. Talshir for discussions on the Aramaic words for “snake.”
247. See esp. The Hymn of the Pearl, 13 and 58; also see R.
Payne Smith, Thesaurus Syriacus (1879) vol. 1, col. 1254 and col.
1210; Brockelmann, LexSyr (1928) pp. 173, 220.
248. Wellhausen, Prolegomena zur Geschichte Israels (Berlin,
1886 [3rd ed.]) p. 322; see the 4th ed., p. 313.
249. Trans. C. D. Yonge, The Works of Philo (Peabody, Mass.,
1993) p. 182. Contrast the translation by F. H. Colson and G. H.
Whitaker, Philo (Cambridge, Mass., London, 1988) vol. 3, pp. 156–57:
“He did not liken the faculty to the serpent that played the friend and
gave advice to ‘Life’—to whom in our own language we call ‘Eve.’ “
Philo’s Greek is not clear, but I think he intends to suggest that Eve is
the serpent and not the one to whom the serpent gave advice. Cf.
Midrash Rabbah on Gen 3:20; Hawwäh “played the eavesdropper like
the serpent …. Aha interpreted it: The serpent was thy [Eve’s] serpent
[i.e. seducer], and thou art Adam’s serpent.” See H. Freedman and M.
Simon, trans., Midrash Rabbah (London, 1939) pp. 169–70. This
exegesis may reflect some philological reflections similar to those of
Philo.
250. R. G. Murison, “The Serpent in the Old Testament,” AJSL 21
(1905) 115–30; the quotation is on p. 130.
251. Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel II.3; the translation is by
E. H. Gifford; see his edition of Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel
(Grand Rapids, 1981 [the original was published by the Clarendon
Press in 1903]) p. 68.
252. Professor Haim Cohen of Ben-Gurion University suggested to
me generic terms, specific terms, and terms of insufficient contextual
evidence. In Fauna und Mineralien der Juden (pp. 25–35), Löw chose
the following categories: “Die Schlange als Gefahr,” “Die Schlange als
Heilmittel,” “Die Schlange im Sprichwort,” and “Schlange allgemein.”
253. H.-J. Fabry states that the “zoological information concerning
the serpent in the OT is based entirely on observation: there are no
flights of fancy.” TDOT 9.359. If we include the mythological creatures
noted in the Hebrew Bible, as I have and he tends to do, then this
conclusion is misleading. Yet Fabry presents a helpful synthesis of the
knowledge of snakes in the Hebrew Bible. The list of physiological
features of a snake, given earlier, is indebted to him.
254. Fabry, TDOT 9.359.
255. See the caution in this regard that was published by A. L.
Peck in his edition of Aristotle’s Historia Animalium (Cambridge,
Mass., London, 1965) vol. i.
256. F. S. Bodenheimer, Animal and Man in Bible Lands (Leiden,
1960) p. 197. Also see S. Bodenheimer, NTpOH X33TN2 ‘nn
(Jerusalem, 1949).

Appendix II

1. Coptic HOQ translates and corresponds to numerous Greek words

for “snake;” see W. E. Crum, A Coptic Dictionary (Oxford, 1939) pp.
740–41.
2. See also Appendix I.
3. In Der neue Pauly: Enzyklopädie der Antike, only nine Greek
nouns for snake are presented (and one appears twice), although two
more appear in the opening paragraph (chersudros and ophis); see J.
Bayet, “Schlange,” DNP 2.178–84. Bayet errs in judging the symbol of
the serpent to be ambivalent in Greek, Roman, Jewish, and Christian
cultures. He also seems too impressed by the negative meaning of the
serpent.
4. C. Leitz, Die Schlangennamen in den ägyptischen und
griechischen Giftbüchern (Stuttgart, 1997) pp. 16–18.
5. Cf. Aristotle, Ethica Eudemia 3.6 and M. A. Bailly, Dictionnaire
Grec-Français (Paris, 1919) p. 4.
6. See Lampe, PGL (Oxford, 1961) p. 50.
7. See LSJM, p. 39.
8. I am indebted to the compilers of LSJM, p. 52, for this
information.
9. See Lampe, PGL, p. 63.
10. See LSJM, p. 84.
11. See Aeschylus, Agamemnon 11233; LSJM, p. 94.
12. See LSJM, p. 235.
13. See Lampe, PGL, p. 223. Also see Lives of the Prophets, trans.
D. R. A. Hare in OTP 2.386–87.
14. Experts tend to concur that the Greek noun denote the Coluber
haje. See Leitz, Die Schlangennamen and LSJM, p. 259.
15. In his Wörterbuch der griechischen Papyrusurkunden (Berlin,
1925) vol. 1, col. 226, F. Preisigke reports that the Greek noun means
“Uräusschlange” (“Uraeus Serpent”).
16. See LSJM, p. 310.
17. See Nicander, Theriaca 334 and LSJM, pp. 439–40.
18. This noun is not listed in the Greek-English Lexicon: Revised
Supplement (Oxford, 1996).
19. The noun is not found in the various supplements, not even
Supplement 2 (1967–1976), which was published in 1991.
 20. See Leitz, Die Schlangennamen.
21. See LSJM, p. 386.
22. I am indebted to the compilers of the LSJM for this citation.
23. See the corrections in LSJM, Supplement, p. 98.
24. See the references listed in Lampe, PGL, p. 386.
25. Not “bearer of the dragon standard;” see the correction in LSJM
Supplement, p. 98.
26. LSJM, p. 537.
27. I am indebted to LSJM, p. 691, for this information.
28. The noun denote a “Giftschlange” (“poisonous snake”). See W.
Bauer, Griechisch-deutsches Wörterbuch zu den Schriften des Neuen
Testaments und der frühchristlichen Literatur, ed. K. Aland and B.
Aland (Berlin, New York, 1988 [6thed.]) col. 670.
29. For other references, see Lampe, PGL, p. 589.
30. See W. Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament,
revised by W. F. Arndt and F. W. Gingrich (Chicago, London, 1958 [2nd
ed.]) p. 331. Also see Bauer, Griechisch-deutsches Wörterbuch, p.
670.
31. For the Greek text, see J. Geffcken, Die Oracula Sibyllina
(Leipzig, 1902) p. 112 [Sibylline Oracles 5.169].
32. See Lampe, PGL, p. 589 (but he incorrectly reports that the
noun appears in Sibylline Oracles 2.169). In Dictionnaire Grec-
Français, Bailly lists the noun, but also cites the text incorrectly as
5.168. For a good translation of the Sibylline Oracles, see J. J. Collins
in OTP 1; for an updated introduction see “Les Oracles Sibyllins,” in
Introduction à la Littérature Religieuse Judéo-Hellénistique, ed. A.-M.
Denis et al. (Turnhout, Belgium, 2000) vol. 2, pp. 947–992.
33. I am again indebted to LSJM, p. 748.
34. See P. Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue
Grecque: Histoire des Mots (Paris, 1968) pp. 468–69. Also see LSJM,
p. 836.
35. See LSJM, p. 836.
36. This meaning needs to be added to the lexicons. For example,
the meaning is not found in the seemingly exhaustive LSJM.
 37. See, e.g., LSJM, p. 932.
38. Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue Grecque,
p. 508.
39. See the comments of Philumenus, the third-century CE
physician, in De Venenatis Animalibus 22.1 and the comments in
LSJM, p. 933.
40. Consult Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue
Grecque, p. 508.
41. The noun is not listed in LSJM or the LSJM Supplement of
1996. It is not in Preisigke’s Wörterbuch der griechischen
Papyrusurkunden or the numerous supplements to 1991.
42. That was the decision of the compilers of LSJM; see p. 941.
43. In early Christian literature, the noun usually means “dumb” or
“deaf” (cf. the fifth-century Isidorus Pelusiota, Epistularum Libri
Quinque 1.54 (in J.-P. Migne, ed., Patrologia Latina, 217 vols. [Paris,
1844–64] 78.217A).
44. I remember observing a water snake climb out of the Potomac
River; it moved though the grass without moving a blade and without
making a sound. At times I had doubts the snake had been moving,
but it proceeded gradually into the woods.
45. No correction or additional data is supplied in the Supplement
of 1996.
46. See Aristotle, Hist. an. 591a15.
47. The compilers of LSJM suggest the name of the snake could
be “mouser.” Cf. Nicander, Theriaca 490.
48. See W. Foerster, “ôcpiç,” TDNT 5 (1968) 566–82.
49. See Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue
Grecque, p. 842.
50. See Aelian, Nat. an. 8.12, ô Jtapsîaç f| reapoiiaç.
51. See Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue
Grecque, p. 857. The compilers of LSJM cite the fifth-century BCE
Cratinus 225, the fifth-and fourth-century Aristophanes, Plutus 690,
and the fourth-century Demosthenes 18.260.
52. See LSJM, p. 1357.
53. See Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue
Grecque, p. 874, and LSJM, p. 1357.
54. The compilers of LSJM cite the first-century CE physician
Dioscorides 4.37, the third-century CE physician Philumenus, De
Venenatis Animalibus 19, and the second-and third-century Aelian,
Nat. an. 6.51.
55. Long ago the compilers of LSJM, p. 1549, suggested the Greek
noun denoted a type of spitting asp. In Dictionnaire Étymologique de la
Langue Grecque, p. 951, Chantraine reported that the noun denoted a
serpent, without being specific.
56. Observe the second-century BCE Nicander’s Theriaca 327 and
the second-and third-century Aelian’s De natura Animalium 15.18. I
am indebted for these references to LSJM, p. 1594.
57. My analysis is supported by Chantraine in his Dictionnaire
Étymologique de la Langue Grecque, pp. 998–99.
58. The compilers of LSJM, p. 1595, prefer the latter option: “a
serpent, the bite of which causes intense thirst.”
59. Consult especially Nicander, Theriaca 384. In PGL, Lampe
does not list the noun, so it may not appear in Patristic Greek.
60. See Chantraine, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue
Grecque, p. 1024. The compilers of LSJM, p. 1617, offer the meaning
“a serpent, of uniform roundness and thickness.”
61. See LSJM, p. 1837 and Aristotle in his Hist. an. 567b25.
62. So also LSJM, p. 1845.
63. We could update Lampe, PGL, p. 1423, and add to (or replace)
“an amphibious reptile” with “water snake.”
64. The Greek noun essentially signifies any animal that puffs itself
up and is poisonous. It can also denote a wind instrument like a pipe
or flute. See LSJM, p. 1963.
65. LSJM, p. 1963.
66. In his Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue Grecque,
Chantraine could only report in 1968 that rJjiiaPiioç denoted diverse
animals (he did not reduce the options to a reptile).
67. See Philumenus, De Venenatis Animalibus 16.1.
68. See LSJM, p. 1987.
69. It is not cited by Lampe, PGL.
 70. Consult LSJM, p. 1988.
71. For this and other locations of this noun, see LSJM, p. 1989.
72. S. Sauneron, Un traité égyptien d’ophiologie (Cairo, 1989).
73. Also see L. Bodson, “Observations sur la vocabulaire de la
zoologie antique: Les noms de serpents en grec et en latin,”
Documents pour l’histoire du vocabulaire scientifique 8 (1986) 65–119.
74. See K. Aland, Vollständige Konkordanz zum Griechischen
Neuen Testament, 3 vols. (Berlin, New York, 1978–1983).
75. See P. Joüon, “Le Grand Dragon,” RSR 17 (1927) 444–46; B.
Renz, Der orientalische Schlangendrache (Augsburg, 1930); W.
Foerster, “δράκων,” TDNT 3 (1964) 281–83. The nouns , and
do not receive a separate entry in TDNT.
76. See Foerster, “ ,” TDNT 3 (1964) 815–16.
77. See Foerster, “ ,” TDNT 5 (1967) 566–71.

Appendix III

I am indebted to Professor Antonio De Simone for taking me to

Pompeii (my fifth trip there), showing me some serpent images, and
allowing me to use much of his research on serpents in the present
appendix. Professor De Simone also gave me a copy of G. F. De
Simone’s Aristarchos. L. Guglielmo helped me during my study of
serpent images and symbols in Pompeii, Herculaneum, and the
Archaeological Museum in Naples.
1. The last major earthquake in Israel or Palestine was in 1033. On 18
January 749 a massive earthquake shook Palestine. It probably would
have been recorded as 7 or 7.5 on the Richter scale. Recent
excavations in Tiberias have revealed a record in stone of that
earthquake. Now we know that from Tiberias to Jericho the earth
moved northward about 1.5 meters, and all at once. In Jerusalem
thousands died. The devastation was so severe that a Syrian priest
claimed a village near Mount Tabor moved 6 kilometers. The effect
was felt elsewhere; for example, a Coptic priest in Alexandria reported
that support beams in houses shifted. Many claimed that they saw tidal
waves in the Mediterranean. The whole Jordan Rift Valley remains an
active fault.
2. N. Purcell, “Pompeii,” OCD (3rd ed. 1996) 1214–15; the
quotation is on p. 1214.
3. This Appendix contains my own reflections after forty years of
working on Qumran texts and realia and five trips to Pompeii, once
leading a BAS seminar there. Hence, only a very few references will
be provided. For bibliographical information, once can easily turn to
the many entries in the leading encyclopedias.
4. See P. Caputo et al., Cuma e ilsuo Parco Archeologico (Rome,
1996).
5. See J. W. Hayes, “ ‘Pompeian-Red’ Ware (Figs. 60.7–16),” in A.
D. Tushingham, ed., Excavations in Jerusalem 1961–1967 (Toronto,
1985) vol. 1, p. 185.
6. See G. K. Boyce, Corpus of the Lararia of Pompeii (Rome,
1937), and Boyce, “Significance of the Serpents on Pompeian House
Shrines,” AJA 46 (1942) 13–22. F. V. M. Cumont, “La Bona Dei et ses
serpents,” MEFRA 49 (1932) 1–5. D. G. Orr, “Learning from Lararia:
Note on the Household Shrines of Pompeii,” Studia in Honor of W. F.
Jashemski (New Rochelle, N.Y., 1988) pp. 293–99. Th. Frohlich,
“Pompejanische Lararienbilder,” AntW 26 (1995) 203–10. R. A. Tybout,
“Domestic Shrines and ‘Popular Painting’: Style and Social Context,”
JRA 9 (1996) 358–74.
7. A. De Simone gave me the following list of larari with serpent
images: I-16–2; I-7–11; I-7–11,18; I-8–8,1; I-8–10,1; I-8–17,3; I-9–1,8;
I-10–7; I-10–18,9; I-11–10,1; I-11,10. 8; I-11–15,10; I-12–4,7; I-12–8,6;
I-12–9,7; I-12–15,5; I-12–16,2; I-13–2,17; I-13–11. 5 and 6; I-16–3,7; I-
16–4, 2; II-1–8,1; VI-16–15; V-2-D; VII-3–13.
8. Cf. Fig. 36 earlier in this book.
9. For a good color photograph, see E. De Carolis, Gods and
Heroes in Pompeii, trans. L.-A. Touchette (Rome, 2001) p. 63. Also,
compare Figs. 54 and 65 in this book.
10. Also see the ithyphallic Hermes (Mercury) depicted with a
caduceus; it is a shop sign in Pompeii. See the color photograph in S.
De Caro, ed., The Secret Cabinet in the National Archaeological
Museum of Naples (Naples, 2000) p. 37.
11. I am grateful to De Simone for discussions on serpent
symbolism at Pompeii.
12. The guard, Manzo Lanzaro, pointed out these large images of
serpents to me, and helped me study some larari.
 13. I am grateful to the Ministero per I Beni e le Attività Culturali del
Museo Archeologico, Napoli, and in particular to the graciousness
offered by Dott.ssa Mariarosaria Borriello.
14. For photographs of some of the serpent jewelry and frescoes,
see A. d’Ambrosio et al., eds., Storie da un’eruzione: Pompei Ercolano
Oplontis (Milan, 2003). See esp. the following: gold armbands or
bracelets (pp. 50, 141, 147, 207 [bis], 254), silver bracelets (pp. 130,
457), silver rings (pp. 265, 270, 282, 314), gold rings (pp. 164, 166,
170, 171, 271, 272), frescoes (pp. 236, 392); Agathadaimon (p. 287),
and Hermes (Mercury) with caduceus (282).

Appendix IV

1. Tertullian [text incorrectly attributed to him], Against All Heresies

chap. 2; The Ante Nicene Fathers ANF 3, p. 650.
2. My translation; see Pseudo-Tertullian, Against All Heresies,
chap. 2; ANF 3, p. 650.
3. Section 3. 37, 1,1–3,1. See F. Williams, trans., The Panarion of
Epiphanius of Salamis, 2 vols. (Leiden, 1994) vol. 1, pp. 241–43.
4. Hippolytus, Haer. 5.12; ANF 5, p. 63 (italics mine).
5. Italics mine.
6. Hippolytus, Haer. 5.12 (italics mine).
7. Hippolytus, Haer. 5.12; ANF 5, p. 64.
8. Hippolytus, Haer. 5.12; trans. J. H. MacMahon, “Hippolytus: The
Refutation of All Heresies,” ANF 5, p. 64 (italics mine).
9. John Chrysostom, Commentary on Saint John, the Apostle and
Evangelist: Homilies 1–47, trans. T. A. Goggin (New York, 1957) p.
262.
10. Chrysostom, Commentary on Saint John: Homilies 1–47, p.
262.
11. Chrysostom, Commentary on Saint John, pp. 262–63.
12. Chrysostom, Commentary on Saint John, p. 263.
13. Justin, Dial. 91; trans. A. C. Coxe in ANF 1, p. 245.
14.ANF 1, p. 245, note 4.
15.Adv. Haer. 4.2.7; trans. Coxe in ANF 1, p. 465.
 16. A. P. Carleton, John Shines Through Augustine (New York,
1961) p. 75.
17. See his tractate on 1Jn, Tractate 3.2: “Was not his resurrection
announced to the men by the women so that the serpent might be
defeated by [his own] stratagem reversed?” Augustine, Tractates on
the Gospel of John 112–24; Tractates on the First Epistle of John,
trans. J. W. Rettig (Washington, 1995) p. 160.
18. For the plates of all these cryptograms see W. O. Moeller, The
Mithraic Origin and Meanings of the Rotas-Sator Square (Leiden,
1973).
19. In his excellent article, D. Fishwick habitually refers to the
Rotas-Sator Square as a rebus. See his “On the Origin of the Rotas-
Sator Square,” HTR 57 (1964) 39–53; see esp. pp. 40, 43, 45, 51, 53.
20. See also the crosses on the right margin of the Latin on the
leather inscription found perhaps at Saxony. See the photograph that
faces the title page of Moeller’s The Mithraic Origin. D. Fishwick also
points out how absurd the attempt is to explain the cryptograph as a
Christian creation. He offers the suggestion that the cryptograph is
originally Jewish, but that raises many problems, not the least of which
is the use of Latin to represent “Pater Noster,” and the appearance of
the cryptogram in Britain but not in Palestine. See Fishwick’s article in
the HTR 57 (1964) 39–53.
21. See E. Strommenger and M. Hirmer, The Art of Mesopotamia
(London, 1964) Plates 7, 8, 34, 40, 157.
22. See the comments by E. Dinkler in Signum Crucis (Tübingen,
1967) esp. pp. 1–54.
23. See U. Ernst, “Satorformel,” Evangelisches Kirchenlexikon
(1996) vol. 5, cols. 58–60.
24. Moeller, The Mithraic Origin, pp. 35–36; H. Last, “The Rotas
Sator Square: Present Position and Future Prospects,” JTS N.S. 31
(1952) 92–97; Fishwick in HTR 57 (1964) 40–41; C. D. Gunn, “The
Sator-Arepo Palindrome: A New Inquiry into the Composition of an
Ancient Word Square” (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 1969).
25. W. Baines, “The Rotas-Square: A New Investigation,” NTS 33
(1987) 469–76.
26. See the study by A. Maiuri, “Sulla datazione de ‘Quadrato
magico’ o cripto-gramma cristiano a Pompei,” Rendiconti della
Accademia di Archeologia, Lettere ed Arti [Naples] 28 (1953) 101–11.
27. There is an alleged “cross” image left on the wall of a house at
Herculaneum. Is it merely the backing for something that once hung on
the wall? An examination of the area reveals that the nails are at the
top and bottom; a shelf or heavy object would have been anchored
with nails on the ends of the horizontal bar. The plastered bench
before “the cross” is identical to home shrines. Finally, the house is
where non-Romans would have lived. Do these suggestions indicate
that a cross was hung on a wall? If so, does that fact indicate the
people who lived in the room were “Christians”? Without any doubt
there were Christians in Rome in the sixties since Paul’s letter to the
Romans proves that conclusion, but proof of Christians in one city is
not evidence of their existence in another.
28. The “cross” shape recently found at Bethsaida is interesting,
and I await full publication for an assessment of it. It may, however, be
only a cross shape. This cross appears on the cover of the first volume
of the Bethsaida excavations. See R. Arav and R. A. Freund,
Bethsaida: A City by the North Shore of the Sea of Galilee (Kirksville,
Mo., 1995).
29. Rev 1:8, 21:6, 22:13. I am grateful to Fishwick for some of
these insights. See Fishwick, HTS 57 (1964) 44–46.
30. A simple example of a palindrome in English is “Mom” and
“Dad.” The play with words is typical of many segments of society.
Since our youth, most of us have heard that “evil” is “live” spelled
backward.
31. Baines: “[T]he Rotas square contains one otherwise unknown
word (AREPO).” NTS 33 (1987) 470. Fishwick: “AREPO is simply the
reverse of OPERA” which is otherwise meaningless. HTS 57 (1964)
51.
32. See Lewis and Short, Harpers’ Latin Dictionary, p. 164, and
TLL, vol. 2, col. 634.
33. Pausanias, Descr. 39.3. For the text and translation see
Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 361.
34. Ovid, Metam. 15.654–59. For text and translation, see
Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 361.
35. Pliny, Nat. 29.4 (22) 72. For the text and translation, see
Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 362.
 36. Xenophon, Cyn. 1.6; for text and translation, see Edelstein,
Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 112.
37. Julianus, In Helium Regem 155B; for the Greek and English
translation, see Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, pp. 151–52. Capitalization
mine.
38. Aelian, Nat. an. 10.9. For the Greek and translation, see
Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 265. Capitalization mine.
39. Suidas, Lexicon, ad loc. cit. For the Greek and English
translation, see Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 265. Capitalization
mine.
40. Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 2, p. 77.
41.Epistula ad Marcellam 7. For the Greek text and translation, see
Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, pp. 111–12.
42. Aristides, Oratio 42, 1–15; Edelstein, Aslepius, vol. 1, pp. 156,
160.
43. For the Greek and English, see H. W. Attridge and R. A. Oden,
Philo of Byblos: The Phoenician History (Washington, D.C., 1981) pp.
66–67.
44. See Macrobius, Saturnalia; I am indebted to Leisegang for this
citation. See H. Leisegang, The Mysteries: Papers of the Eranos
Yearbooks, vol. 2, ed. J. Campbell (New York, 1955) p. 200.
45.In Platonis Timaeum 1.49C. For the Greek and English
translation, see Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 151.
46. Macrobius, Saturnalia 1.20, 1–4; Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1,
pp. 148–49.
47. Proclus, In Platonis Timaeum 1, 49C; Edelstein, Asclepius, vol.
1, p. 151.
48. Leisegang, The Mysteries, p. 200.
49. In the Jewish magical papyri, the gibberish often seems to
derive from phonetics related to the Tetragrammaton. See the Prayer
of Jacob: “God Aba*th, Abrathia*th, [Sa]ba[oth, A]d*nai… Epa[g]a*l
[El*]*l, Sou*l.” Charlesworth in OTP 2.721–23.
50. Aristides, Oratio 42. 1–15; Edlestein, Asclepius, vol. 1, pp. 155–
63. Translation mine.
51. The attempt to consider arepo as indicating a plow is without
any basis in philology.
52. For the Greek and the translation, see Attridge and Oden, Philo
of Byblos, pp. 52–53.
53. Herondas, Mimiambi, 4.11; Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p. 272.
54. Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, pp. 143–44.
55. Aristides (128–189 CE), Oratio 48.4; Edelstein, Asclepius, vol.
1, p. 155.
56. Oxyrhynchus, Papyrus 11, 1381; Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p.
175.
57. Philostratus, Epistulae 18; cf. Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p.
200.
58. Moeller argues that the cryptograph originated in Italy among
worshippers of Mithra. See Moeller, The Mithraic Origin, pp. 21–38.
Before Moeller, others judged the cryptograph to be Mithraic; see A.
Omodeo, “La croce d’Ercolano e il culto precostantiniano della roce,”
La Critica 38 (1940) 45–61.
59. J. Sundwall, “L’Enigmatica iscrizione ROTAS in Pompei,” Acta
Academiae Aboensis, Humaniora 15 (1945) 16–17.
60. See the hypothesis of Fishwick in HTR 57 (1964) 46–53.
61. Julianus, Contra Galilaeos 200 A-B; Edelstein, Asclepius, vol.
1, p. 152.
62. See the plates in Moeller, The Mithraic Origin.
63. Orphic Hymns 67; for the Greek and translation, see Apostolos
N. Athanassakis, The Orphic Hymns: Text, Translation, and Note
(Missoula, Mont., 1977), pp. 88–89.
64. Juvenal, Sat. 6.55; see also line 57; et agello cedo paterno.
65. Tacitus, Hist., book 3, 86.
66. Galen, De libris propriis, Cp. 2; Edelstein, Asclepius, vol. 1, p.
263. Also see Galen, De sanitate tuenda, 1.8, 20; ibid., vol. 1, p. 179.
67. Fishwick, HTR 57 (1964) 51.
68. Baines, NTS 33 (1987) 473.
69. Ibid., p. 473.
70. See H. Matthäus, Der Arzt in römisher Zeit: Literarische
Nachrichten—archäologische Denkmäler, ed. Ph. Filtzinger (Stuttgart,
1987); see the forty-seven illustrations, many of which feature
physicians and Asclepius with serpents.
71. My translation; brackets indicate restorations. See Leisegang,
The Mysteries, p. 201.
72. Charlesworth in OTP 2.720–73.
73. Leisegang, The Mysteries, p. 218. For a photograph of the
alabaster bowl, see p. 201.
74. K. Preisendanz, ed., Papyri graecae magicae: Die griechischen
Zauberpapyri (Berlin, 1928) vol. 1, pp. 111ff. or vol. 4, pp. 1115–65.
75. See Leisegang, The Mysteries, p. 211.
Selected “Serpent” Bibliography
This bibliography on the serpent is focused first on antiquity (especially
from 1000 BCE to c. fourth cent. CE), and second on the symbolic
meaning of the serpent. The selection has also been guided by an
emphasis on the Levant.
Not included are discussions in encyclopedias that are brief and
usually anonymous. Numerals are given in Arabic numbers, unless
Roman numerals are in the titles. The names of cities are translated
into English. Authors’ surnames that begin in van and von but are
separated from the following noun, and other similar forms, are placed
with the next letter in the alphabet in their names. Abbreviations are
generally avoided to assist those in various disclipines; for
abbreviations demanded to avoid excessive length, see the
Abbrevations at the beginning of this book. Since works published
outside the United States sometimes do not provide the city, publisher,
or date, the following additional abbreviations have been used: n.c. (no
city given), n.p. (no publisher indicated), n.d. (no date provided).
The bibliography is arranged alphabetically so as to serve the
majority. For biblical historians and archaeologists who are interested
in chronology, the list could have been arranged differently. They might
want to organize it from the Nachash in the Eden Story, to Moses’
bronze serpent (Num 21), Hezekiah’s Nechushtan, through the
Asclepian cult (which belongs to the pre and post-Christian eras), John
3:14 and other New Testament texts, the Ophites and Naassanes, and
finally to the Gnostics and the early scholars of the Church. For those
who are interested in the development of the symbolical meaning of
the serpent, the list would have been arranged differently. It would lead
from c. 40,000 BCE and the prehistoric era to Moses and then to the
present with the worshipping of snakes in India and the handling of
snakes in the southern parts of the United States (according to a literal
reading of Mk 16:9–20). The bibliography could also have been
arranged according to topics: Ophites and Naassanes, the Asclepian
cult, Asian religions, Australian mythologies, an exegesis of New
Testament and Old Testament passages, archaeology, the language of
art, the commonality of the human from Paleolithic times to the
present, psychology, and iconography and art. Usually the titles of
articles and books clarify the focus of a publication. Sometimes I
supply a brief notation to assist the reader and scholar. I annotate an
entry especially when it contains illustrations that are a prerequisite for
comprehending the variagated meanings of serpent symbolism.
 This selected bibliography reflects an interest in iconography,
mythology, and theology. The list shows only a little concern for
zoology and herpetology; for such work, consult the publications in the
Zeitschrift der Societas Europaea Herpeto-logica and the works
published by the Herpetofauna-Verlag. Additional publications can be
found in the periodicals, series, and publications cited here. For further
works see the following collections: American Anthropologist,
L’Antiquité classique, Die Aquarien—und Terrarien Zeitschrift, Bonner
Zoologische Monographien, British Herpetological Society Bulletin,
Corpus medicorum graecorum, Fieldiana Zoology, Herpetofauna,
Herpetological Review, Israel Journal of Zoology, Journal of
Experimental Zoology, Journal of the Herpetological Association of
Africa, Journal of Herpetology, Lexicon der christlichen Ikonographie,
Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae, Pharmacy in History,
Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London, Reallexikon für
ägyptische Religionsgeschichte, Revue d’égyptologie, Salamandra:
Zeitschrift für Herpetologie und Terrarienkunde, and Toxicon,
Zoologische Abhandlungen Staatliches Museum für Tierkunde in
Dresden.
The selected serpent bibliography is also dedicated to the most
recent and important publications. This bibliography was corrected and
expanded by working in numerous major libraries in which I was
always treated with professional respect and courtesy. I am especially
indebted to the following libraries: Speer and Luce Libraries at
Princeton Theological Seminary, the libraries in the University of
Tübingen, the Ecole Biblique Library, the Israel National Library and
Jewish Library, and the British Library. Additional bibliographical
references will be found in the notes to the preceding discussions.
Katherine A. Skrebutenas, the reference librarian in Speer and Luce
Libraries, Princeton Theological Seminary, helped me discover some
exotic abbreviations.

Adkins, L., and R. Adkins. “Aesculapius,” Dictionary of Roman

Religions. New York: Facts On File, 1996; p. 3.
Aharoni, Y. “Arad: Its Inscription and Temple,” Biblical Archaeologist 31
(1968) 2–32.
______, ed. Beer-Sheba I: Excavation at Tel Beer-Sheba, 1961–1971
Seasons. Tel Aviv University Institute of Archaeology. Tel Aviv:
Ramat Aviv, 1973.
______. “The Horned Altar of Beer-sheba,” Biblical Archaeologist 37.
 (1974) 2–6.
Albright, W. F. “The Evolution of the West-Semitic Divinity
‘An-’Anat-’Atta,” The American Journal of Semitic Languages
and Literatures 41 (1925) 73–101.
______. “Notes on the Goddess Anat,” The American Journal of
Semitic Languages and Literatures 43 (1927) 233–36.
______. “Anath and the Dragon,” Bulletin of the American Schools of
Oriental Research 84 (1941) 14–16.
______. “ ‘The Bronze Age,’ II of the Excavation of Tell Beit Mirsim,”
Annual of the American Schools of Oriental Research 17 (1936–
1937) esp. p. 43. [Albright rightly warned against interpreting the
serpent as only or primarily a sexual symbol.]
______. “The Goddess of Life and Wisdom,” American Journal of
Semitic Languages and Literatures 36 (1919–1920) 258–94.
______. “The Excavation at Tell Beit Mirsim, Vol. II: The Bronze Age,”
Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 31 (1928)
1–11. [The image of a goddess was found in an MB II stratum.
Albright assumed incorrectly she was bound around the legs by
a large serpent.]
______. Yahweh and the Gods of Canaan. Garden City, N. Y.:
Doubleday, 1968.
______, and G. Mendenhall. “The Creation of the Composite Bow in
Canaanite Mythology,” The Journal of Near Eastern Studies 1
(1942) 227–29.
Alexiou, S. Minoan Civilization, trans. C. Ridley. Heraklion, Crete:
Spyros Alex-iou Sons, 1969. N.V.
______. Minoische Kultur. Sternstunden der Archäologie, trans. W.
Liebich. Frankfurt: Musterschmidt Göttingen, 1976 [also see the
Greek original of 1964 or English translation of 1969]; see esp.
Fig. 12 [the snake goddess], p. 113 [gold amulet with a serpent],
and p. 119 [the serpents on a vessel].
Amaducci, A. B. Die Brancacci-Kapelle und Masaccio. Florence:
Scala, 1978. [In the Triptychon in San Giovenale Church in
Cascia, Masolino, the student of Masaccio, depicted the sepent
in the Garden of Eden as a female, and she has an angelic face.
See Fig. 2, opposite page 16. Also see Fig. 79 in the present
book.]
Amélineau, E. “Du role des serpents dans les croyances religieuses de
l’Egypte,” Revue de l’histoire des religions 51 (1905) 335–60;
also see vol. 52 (1905) 1–32.
Amiet, P. “Antiquités de Serpentine,” Iranica Antiqua 15 (1980) 155–
66, Plate 2.
______. Elam. Auvers-sur-Oise, France: Archée, 1966.
Amiet, P., et al., eds. La grammaire des formes et des styles: Antiquité.
Fribourg: Production Office du Livre, 1981.
Amorai-Stark, S. Wolfe Family Collection of Near Eastern Prehistoric
Stamp Seals. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 16. Series
Archaeologica. Freiburg: University Press of Freiburg and
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997. See esp. Nos. 163
[5th millen.], 256 [4th millen.], 277 [4th millen.], 352 [4/3rd
millen.], and 430 [3rd millen.]. It is impossible to discern the
identity of some images; serpents are possibly found on Nos.
257, 277, 314, 339, 343, 395, 414, 461, 467, and 470.
Amsler, F. “The Apostle Philip, the Viper, the Leopard, and the Kid: The
Masked Actors of a Religious Conflict in Hierapolis of Phrygia,”
SBL Seminar Papers [1991] Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996; pp.
432–37.
Anderson, B. W. “The Slaying of the Fleeing, Twisting Serpent: Isaiah
27:1 in Context,” From Creation to New Creation. Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1994; pp. 195–206.
Andreae, B. L’Art de l’ancienne Rome: L’Art et les grandes
civilisations. Paris: Mazenrod, 1973.
Andrews, C., ed. The Ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead, trans. R. O.
Faulkner. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1990.
Anonymous. Archaeology: Highlights from the Israel Museum.
Jerusalem: The Israel Museum, 1984.
Anonymous. Ophiolatreia: An Account of the Rites and Mysteries
Connected with the Origin, Rise, and Development of Serpent
Worship. 1889 [privately printed].
Anthes, R. “Der Gebrauch des Wortes ‘Schlange,’ ‘Schlangenleib’ in
den Pyra-midengtexten,” Drevnij Mir: Sbornik Statej. Akademiku
Vasiliju Vasil’e-vicu Struve. Moscow, 1962; pp. 32–49.
______. “König ‘Schlange’ … Schlange und Schlangengöttin Uto,”
Zeitschrift für Ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde 83 (1958)
 79–82.
Antonova, Ye. V. “The ‘Serpent’ and the ‘Eagle’ in the Glyptics of the
Oxus Civilization,” Journal of Ancient History 2 (2000 [Moscow])
46–52 [Russian]. [The images discussed are not clearly linked
with Zoroastrianism, and the eagle and serpent complement
each other, bringing together the tension between good and evil.]
Anzaldúa, G. “Entering into the Serpent,” Weaving the Visions: New
Patterns in Feminist Spirituality, ed. J. Plaskow and C. Christ.
San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1989.
Apollodorus. Apollodorus: The Library, trans. Sir J. G. Frazier. Loeb
Classical Library. London: William Heinemann and New York: G.
P. Putnam’s Sons, 1921; see esp. vol. 1, pp. 84–87.
Arbesmann, R. “The Concept of ‘Christus medicus’ in St. Augustine,”
Traditio 10 (1954) 1–28.
Armstrong, J. The Paradise Myth. London, New York, and Toronto:
Oxford University Press, 1969; see esp. pp. 9–36.
Astour, M. C. “Two Ugaritic Serpent Charms,” Journal of Near Eastern
Studies 27 (1968) 13–36.
Asurmendi, J. “En Torno a la Serpiente de Bronce,” Estudios Bíblicos
46 (1988) 283–94.
Athanassakis, A. N. The Orphic Hymns: Text, Translation, and Notes.
Society of Biblical Literature Texts and Translations, 12. Society
of Biblical Literature Graeco-Roman Series, 4. Missoula, Mont.:
Scholars Press, 1977.
Attridge, H. W., and R. A. Oden, Jr., eds. Philo of Byblos-The
Phoenician History: Introduction, Critical Text, Translation, Notes.
The CBQ Monograph Series 9. Washington, D.C.: Association of
America, 1981.
Augustine. John Shines Through Augustine: Selections from the
Sermons of Augustine on the Gospel According to Saint John,
trans. A. P. Carleton. World Christian Books, Second Series, 34.
London: Lutterworth Press, 1959; reprinted in New York:
Association Press (n.d.).
______. The Literal Meaning of Genesis, Vol. 2: Books 7–12, trans. J.
H. Taylor, S. J. Ancient Christian Writers: The Works of the
Fathers in Translation 42, ed. E. J. Quasten, W. J. Burghardt,
and T. C. Lawler. New York, and Ramsey, N.J.: Newman Press,
 1982; pp. 110–13, 133–40.
______. Tractates on the Gospel of John 112–24; Tractates on the
First Epistle of John, trans. J. W. Rettig. The Fathers of the
Church: A New Translation. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic
University of America Press, 1995.
______. De Trinate. 2 Vols, ed. W. J. Mountain. Corpus Christianorum
Series Latina L: Aurelii Augustini Opera, Pars XVI I/2. Turnholt:
Typographi Brepolis Editores Pontificii, 1968.
______. The Trinity, trans. E. Hill, and J. E. Rotelle. The Works of
Saint Augustine for the 21st Century, Part I, Vol. 5. Brooklyn,
N.Y.: New City Press, 1991.
Ausloos, H. “Mozes’ bronzen slang: Gods ‘teken van redding,’ “ Schrift
195 (2001) 69–71.
Avalon, A. [John George Woodroffe]. The Serpent Power. Madras:
Ganesh & Co., 1924.
Avalos, H. “Ancient Medicine: In Case of Emergency, Contact Your
Local Prophet,” Bible Review 11 (1995) 27–35; see esp. p. 31 for
a color picture of the copper serpent with gilded head, dating to
the twelfth cent. BCE, found at Timna’.
Avi-Yonah, M. Art in Ancient Palestine: Selected Studies, ed. H.
Katzenstein and Y. Tsafrir. Jesusalem: The Magnes Press, 1981.
Aymar, B. Treasury of Snake Lore. New York: Greenberg, 1956.
Azarpay, G. “The Snake-Man in the Art of Bronze Age Bactria,”
Bulletin of the Asia Institute N.S. 5 (1991) 1–10. [The unique
male figures on two Bac-trian sealstones, which are now in the
Louvre and the Kovacs Collection, were found in East Iran.
These are similar to other known seals that depict a man with
serpents as arms.]
Bagatti, P. B., and J. T. Milik. Gli Scavi del “Dominus Flevit,” Parte I: La
Necropoli del Periodo Romano. Pubblicazioni Dello Studium
Biblicum Franciscanum 13. Jerusalem: Tipografia dei PP.
Francescani, 1958.
Bailey, J., K. McLeish, and D. Spearman. Gods and Men: Myths and
Legends from the World’s Religions. Oxford Myths and Legends.
New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981.
Baines, W. “The Rotas-Sator Square: A New Investigation,” New
Testament Studies 33 (1987) 469–76.
Bakan, D. Sigmund Freud and the Jewish Mystical Tradition: A
Provocative Exploration of the Role Played by Jewish Mysticism
in the Development of Psychoanalysis. Boston: Beacon Press,
1958; paperback, Boston: Beacon Paperback, 1975.
Balz, H., and G. Schneider, eds. “öctnq,” Exegetisches Wörterbuch
zum Neuen Testament Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1992 [2nd
ed.]; vol. 2, p. 1354.
Bandini, P. Drachenwelt: Von den Geistern der Schöpfung und
Zerstörung, trans. T. Prohn. Stuttgart: Weitbrecht, 1996. [The
book is full of drawings; for ancient Near Eastern research, see
esp. p. 37] [William Blake’s depiction of Elohim creating Adam
around which a serpent is coiled, helping God? (1796)], p. 75
[Zeus fighting the anguipede Typhon, from fifth cent. BCE], p. 81
[a serpent goddess from Crete, 1700–1600 BCE], p. 94 [two
serpent gods and two dragon-bird gods, Sumeria, c. 2025 BCE],
p. 95 [two gods in paradise with a large serpent, Sumerian, c.
250 BCE], and p. 175 [serpent and dragon gods, even Yahweh,
second to first cent. BCE].
Barash, A., and J. H. Hoofien. Reptiles of Israel. Tel Aviv: Hakibuts
Hamenchat, 1966 [Hebrew].
Barb, A. “Abrasax-Studien,” Hommages a W. Deonna, 1957; pp. 67–
86. N.V.
Bardtke, H. “Die Loblieder von Qumran,” Theologische Literatur
Zeitung 81 (1956)
cols. 149–54, 589–604, 715–24; and also TLZ 82 (1957) cols. 339–48.
Barnett, R. D. “The Serpent-Headed Tripod Base,” Eretz-Israel 19
[Michael AviYonah Memorial Volume] (1987) 1.
Barrelet, M. Th. “Etudes de glyptique akkadienne: L’imagination
figurative et le cycle d’Ea,” Orientalia 39, N.S. 2 (1970) 213–51.
Battaglia, G. G. “Glykon,” Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae 4.1, pp. 279–83 [see the bibliography]; see the
photographs in LIMC 4.2, Plates 161–62.
Batto, B. F. Slaying the Dragon: Mythmaking in the Biblical Tradition.
Louisville, Ky.: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1992; see esp. pp.
58–61, 206–7.
Bauchhenss, G. Jupitergigantensäulen, ed. Ph. Filtzinger. Kleine
Schriften zur Kenntnis der römischen besetzungsgeschichte
 Südwestdeutschlands 14. Stuttgart: A. W. Genter Verlag, 1976.
[See the illustrations of Jupiter trampling with his horse on a
Giant (Nos. 24, 26) or using the Giant with his massive
serpentine feet to elevate his horses (Nos. 25, 27) and even
sometimes his chariot, either with his hands (Nos. 28, 29), or the
serpent heads of his legs (not shown, but see RL 412 in the
Württembergisches Landesmuseen Stuttgart, Altes Schloss)].
Bauchot, R., ed. Schlangen, trans. C. Ronsiek et al. Augsburg:
Naturbuch Verlag, 1994 [French original is also 1994].
Baudissin, W. W. G. Adonis und Esmun: Eine Untersuchung zur
Geschichte des Glaubens an Auferstehungsgötter und an
Heilgötter. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs’sche Buchhandlung, 1911; see
esp. pp. 325–39.
______. “Esmun—Asklepios,” Orientalische Studien: Theodor Nöldeke
zum 70. Geburtstag. Gieszen: A. Töpelmann, 1906; vol. 2, pp.
729–55.
______. “Eherne Schlange,” Realencycl. für protestant. Theol. und
Kirche 17 (1898) 580–86.
______. “Die Symbolik der Schlange im Semitismus, insbesondere im
Alten Testament,” Studien zur Semitischen Religionsgeschichte,
Heft 1. Leipzig: W. Grunow, 1876; pp. 255–92.
Bauer, W., I. Dümotz, and S. Golowin. Lexicon der Symbole.
Wiesbaden: Fourier Verlag, 1998; see esp. p. 46.
Baumann, H. Schöpfung und Urzeit des Menschen im Mythus der
afrikanischen Völker. Berlin: Reimer, Andrews, and Steiner,
1936.
Baumgarten, A. K. “Child Sacrifice and Snakes,” The Phoenician
History of Philo of Byblos: A Commentary. EPRO 89. Leiden:
Brill, 1981; pp. 244–60.
Bayley, H. The Lost Language of Symbolism: An Inquiry into the Origin
of Certain Letters, Words, Names, Fairy-Tales, Folklore, and
Mythologies, 2 vols. London: Williams and Norgate, 1912.
Bazala, W. Asklepios, der göttliche Arzt. Grünenthal Waage, n.p.,
1961.
Beckman, G. “The Anatolian Myth of Illuyanka,” Journal of the Ancient
Near Eastern Society of Columbia University 14 (1982) 11–25.
Bell, R. “Serpent,” Dictionary of Classical Mythology Symbols,
 Attributes, and Associations. Santa Barbara, Calif.: ABC-Clio,
Inc., and Oxford: Clio Press Ltd., 1982; pp. 214–17.
Bellinger, G. J. Lexicon der Mythologie. Augsburg: Bechtermünz
Verlag, 1997; see esp. pp. 11, 12, 18, 22, 34, 41, 52, 55, 72, 88,
95, 121, 136, 147, 157, 160, 163, 168, 181, 202, 205, 240, 242,
274, 277, 283, 317, 330, 331, 383, 399, 410, 416, 439, 464, 468,
485, 494, 498, 512, 520, and 539.
Berger, K. “Gnosis/Gnostizismus I,” Theologische Realenzyklopädie
13. Berlin and New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1984; pp. 519–35
[for Ophites].
Bergman, E. Medicinska Emblem och Symboler. Eskilstuna: Svenska
Läkartidningen, 1941.
Berlejung, A. Die Theologie der Bilder. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 162.
Freiburg: Universitätsverlag and Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1998.
Bernhard, O. “Asklepios und sein Geschlecht auf griechischen und
römischen Münzen,” Ciba Zeitschrift (1936) 1014–1020.
______. Griechische und römische Münzbilder in ihren Beziehungen
zur Geschichte der Miedizin. Zurich, Berlin: n.p., 1926.
Betz, O. “Die Geburt der Gemeinde durch den Lehrer (Bemerkungen
zum Qum-ranpsalm 1QH III, 1 ff.),” New Testament Studies 3
(1957) 314–26.
______. “Felsenmann und Felsengemeinde (Eine Parallele zu Mt 16,
17–19) in den Qumranpsalmen,” Zeitschrift für die
neutestamentliche Wissenschaft 48 (1957) 49–77.
______. “Die Proselytentaufe der Qumransekte und die Taufe im
Neuen Testament,” Revue de Qumran 1.2 (1958) 213–34.
Beyerle, S. “Die ‘Eherne Schlange’; Num 21, 4–9: Synchron und
diachron gelesen,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 111 (1999) 23–44.
Biale, D. Eros and the Jews: From Biblical Israel to Contemporary
America. New York: Basic Books, 1992.
Bianchi, R. S. “The Ancient Mediterranean: Good and Evil Snakes,”
Faces (October 1995) 6–9.
Biesantz, H. Die kretisch-mykenische Kunst. Ullstein Kunstgeschichte
4. West Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1964; see esp. Illus. 39 [gold ring
 with a gem showing goddesses with serpents], and Illus. 71 [a
serpent and a boar? struggling in gold relief].
Boardman, J., J. Dörig, W. Fuchs, and M. Hirmer. Die Griechische
Kunst. Munich: Hirmer Verlag, 1992; see esp. pp. 95, 97, 98,
219, Plate 12, and photographs 85, 126–27, 185, 278–80.
Boardman, J., O. Palagia, S. Woodford, “Herakles,” in Lexicon
Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 4.1, pp. 728–838
[bibliography]; see the photographs in LIMC 4.2, especially
Plates 552–56.
Böcher, O. Dämonenfurcht und Dämonenabwehr: Ein Beitrag zur
Vorgeschichte der christlichen Taufe. Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer,
1970; pp. 92–95.
Bodenheimer, F. S. Animal and Man in Bible Lands. Collection de
travaux de l’académie internationale d’histoire des sciences, No.
10 [in two vols.]. Leiden: Brill, 1960, 1972; see esp. 1960, pp.
64–68 and 1972, Figs. 19, 24, 31, and 38.
______. Animal Life in Palestine: An Introduction to the Problems of
Animal Ecology and Zoogeography. Jerusalem: L. Mayer, 1935;
see esp. pp. 181–91.
Bodenheimer, F. S., and W. S. McCullough, “Serpent,” Interpreter’s
Dictionary of the Bible 4 (1962) 298–91.
Bodson, L. “Les grecs et leurs serpents: Premiers résultats de l’étude
taxonomique des sources anciennes,” L’Antiquité Classique 50
(1981) 57–78.
______. “Nature et fonctions des serpents d’Athéna,” in Mélanges
Pierre Lévêque, ed. M.-M. Mactoux and E. Geny. Centre de
Recherches d’Histoire Ancienne 96. Paris: n.p., 1990; pp. 45–62.
______. “Observations sur la vocabulaire de la zoologie antique: Les
noms de serpents en grec et en latin,” Documents pour l’histoire
du vocabulaire scientifique 8 (1986) 65–119.
Boelicke, U., et al. Museum: Römisches Museum Köln, ed. B.
Schneider. Braunschweig: Georg Westermann Verlag, 1998; see
esp. p. 110.
Boessneck, J. “Schlangen,” Die Tierwelt des Alten Ägypten. Munich:
C. H. Beck, 1988; pp. 114–16.
Böhl, M. Th. “Die Sichem-Plakette: Protoalphabetische Schriftzeichen
der Mittelbronzezeit vom Tell Balata,” Zeitschrift des Deutschen
 Palästina-Vereins 61 (1938) 1–25. [In an MB II stratum a large
serpent was found. It is depicted moving from the earth to the
prudenta of a goddess; see Plate I.]
Böhmer, R. M. “Stierkopf und Schlange: Die archaische
Siegelabrollung W.22150,” Bagdader Mitteilungen 12 (1981) 7–8.
Boismard, M. É., et al. L’Évangile de Jean: Études et Problèmes.
Recherches Bibliques, 3. Louvain: Desclée de Brouwer, 1958.
Bon, C. “Schlangengifte und Heilmittel,” in Schlangen, ed. R. Bauchot,
trans. C. Ronsiek et al. Augsburg: Naturbuch Verlag, 1994
[French original is also 1994]; pp. 194–209, 47, 55, 76, and 509.
Bonnet, H. “Schlange,” Reallexicon der Ägyptischen
Religionsgeschichte. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter & Co., 1952; pp.
681–86.
Bonsirven, J. “Les aramaïsmes de S. Jean l’Évangeliste,” Biblica 30
(1949) 40532. [See esp. the grave monument of Lucius Poblicius
and his family, which shows a serpent in a tree.]
Boraas, R. S. “Of Serpents and Gods,” Dialog 17 (1978) 273–79.
Bordreuil, P. “Des Serpents et des Dieux: Magie et divinités syriennes
dans le mythe ougartique de ‘Horon et les serpents,’ “ Annales
Archéologiques Arabes Syriennes 34 (1984) 183–88.
Borgen, P. “Some Jewish Exegetical Traditions as Background for Son
of Man Sayings in John’s Gospel [Jn 3, 13–14 and context],”
L’Évangile de Jean, ed. M. de Jonge. Bibliotheca ephemeridum
theologicarum lovaniensium 44. Gembloux and Leuven: J.
Duculot, 1977; pp. 243–58.
Bornkamm, G. “Ophiten,” Pauly-Wtssowa 35 (1939) cols. 654–58.
Böttinger, ? “Über die vorgeblichen Schlangen am Merkuriusstabe,”
Amalthea 1 (1820) 104–16.
Boulnois, J. La caducée et la symbolique dravidienne indo-
méditeranéenne de l’arbre, de la pierre, du serpent et de la
déesse mère. Paris: Adrien Maisonneuve, 1989.
Bouquet, A. C. Sacred Books of the World. London: Cassell, 1962.
Bourke, J. G. The Snake Dance of the Moquis of Arizona. New York:
Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1884.
Bousset, W. Hauptprobleme der Gnosis. Forschungen zur Religion
und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments 10. Göttingen:
 Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1907 [reprinted in 1973]; see esp. the
section on Ophites.
Bowman, C. H., and R. B. Coote. “A Narrative Incantation for Snake
Bite,” Ugarit-Forschungen 12 (1980) 135–39.
Bradley, D. G. A Guide to the World’s Religions. Englewood Cliffs, N.
J.: Prentice-Hall, 1963.
Breasted, J. H. Ancient Records of Egypt. Chicago: n.p., 1927.
Brentjes, B. “Zur Rolle der Schlange in den alten Kulturen des
ostmediteranen Raumes,” Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift der
Friedrich Schiller-Universität 19 (1970) 731–46.
Briggs, C. A. Messianic Prophecy: The Predictions of the Fulfillment of
Redemption Through the Messiah. New York: Charles Scribner’s
Sons, 1886; reprint, Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1988.
Bright, J. History of Israel. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1981 [3rd
ed.]; see esp. p. 127.
Brilliant, R. Pompeii—AD 79: The Treasury of Rediscovery. New York:
Clarkson N. Potter, Inc., 1979.
Brock-Utne, A. “ ‘Der Fiend’: Die alttestamentliche Satangestalt im
Lichte der sozialen Verhältnesse des Nahen Orients,” Klio 28
(1935) 219–37.
Brommer, F. “Herakles und Hydra auf attischen Vasenbildern,” in
Marburger Winckelmann-Programm, 1949; see esp. p. 7.
Broshi, M. “ ‘The Serpents’ Pool and Herod’s Monument
Reconsidered,” Cathedra 55 (1990) 3–7 [Hebrew]. [Broshi
argues that the serpents’ pool was located northwest of the
present Damascus Gate.]
______. “ ‘The Serpents’ Pool and Herod’s Monument—A
Reconsideration,” Maarav 8 (1992) 213–22. [This publication is a
revision of the article that appeared in Cathedra 55.]
Buchanan, B. “A Snake Goddess and her Companions: A Problem in
the Iconography of the Early Second Millennium B.C.,” Iraq 32
(1970) 1–18. [The snake goddess examined is probably not
related to the Cretan snake goddesses, and the role of the object
is uncertain.]
Buchholz, H.-G. “Furcht vor Schlangen und Umgang mit Schlangen in
Altsyrien, Altkypros und dem Umfeld,” Ugarit-Forschungen 32
 (2000) 37–168 [a major survey with twenty-five illustrations of
serpent images].
Buchler, I. R., and K. Maddock, eds. The Rainbow Serpent: A
Chromatic Piece. World Anthropology. Paris: Mouton Publishers,
1978; see esp. p. 77.
Budde, K. Die biblische Paradiesesgeschichte. Giessen: A.
Topelmann, 1922.
Budge, E. A. W. Egyptian Language: Easy Lessons in Egyptian
Hieroglyphics. New York: Dover, 1976; see p. 33 [the
hieroglyphic for “goddess” is a cobra naja haje].
______. The Gods of the Egyptians. 2 vols. Chicago: Open Court
Publishing Co., 1904. [The Egyptians thought the molting serpent
represented eternal life.]
______. Osiris and the Egyptian Resurrection, 2 vols. London: Philip
Lee Warner and New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1911.
Buisson, R. du Mesnil du. “Le grand serpent Babi Dieu … le père des
Sardes,” Nouvelles études sur les dieux et les mythes de
Canaan. EPRO 33; Leiden: Brill, 1973; pp. 228–40.
Bulfinch, T. Myths of Greece and Rome. [Originally published as The
Age of Fable (n.c., n.p., n.d.).] New York: Penguin, 1981.
Bunn, J. T. “Origin of the Caduceus Motif,” Journal of the American
Medical As-soaation 202.7 (1967) 163–67.
Buonaventura, W. Die Schlange vom Nil: Frauen und Tanz im Orient,
trans. E. Pampuch and T. Pampuch. Hamburg: Rogner &
Bernhard GmbH & Co., 1991 [2nd ed.]. [English original: London:
Saqi Books, 1989].
Burkert, W. Greek Religion, trans. J. Raffan. Oxford: Blackwell, 1985.
______. Ancient Mystery Cults. Cambridge, Mass. and London:
Harvard University Press, 1987.
Burkitt, F. C. “On ‘Lifting up’ and ‘Exalting,’ “ Journal of Theological
Studies 20 (1918/1919) 336–38.
Burland, C., and W. Forman. Gefiederte Schlange und Rauchender
Spiegel, trans. H. Schmidthüs. Freiburg, Basel: Herder, 1977.
[The English original was published in London: Orbis, 1975.]
Burns, R. “Jesus and the Bronze Serpent,” Bible Today 28 (1990) 84–
89.
Burrow, J. A. “The Serpent,” Methodist Quarterly Review 70, no. 4
(October 1921) 720–27.
Burton, T. Serpent-Handling Believers. Knoxville: University of
Tennessee Press, 1993.
Busch, H., and G. Edelmann, eds. Etruskische Kunst, introduction and
discussion of pictures by W. Zschietzsmann. Frankfurt: Umschau
Verlag, 1969.
Busch, P. Der gefallene Drache: Mythenexegese am Beispiel von
Apokalypse 12. Texte und Arbeiten zum neutestamentlichen
Zeitalter 19. Tübingen and Basel: A. Francke, 1996.
Buschan, G. “Tiere im Kult und im Aberglauben des nordischen
Kulturkreises,” Ciba Zeitschrift 8 (1942) 3016.
Busse, U. “Die Tempelmetaphorik als ein Beispiel von implizitem
Rekurs auf die biblische Tradition im Johannesevangelium,” The
Scriptures in the Gospels, ed. C. M. Tuckett. Leuven: Leuven
University Press and Peeters, 1997; pp. 395–428.
Butterworth, E. A. S. The Tree at the Navel of the Earth. Berlin: Walter
de Gruyter, 1970.
Cahn, H. A. “Asklepios,” Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae, 1.1, pp. 863–901 [and bibliography]; also see the
photographs in LIMC, and 2.2, Plates 631–69.
Calvet, J., and M. Cruppi. Les animaux dans la littérature sacrée.
Paris: Fernand Ianore, 1956; esp. pp. 17–19, 173–76.
Campbell, J. Occidental Mythology, 3 vols. New York: Viking Press,
1964. [Campbell demonstrates why the interpretation of the
serpent as a phallic imagery is often inappropriate.]
______. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Bollingen Series 17.
Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1949.
______. The Mythic Image. Bollingen Series 100. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1974.
______. The Power of Myth, ed. B. S. Flowers. New York, London, and
Sydney: Doubleday, 1988.
Campbell, L. A. “Snake,” in Mithraic Iconography and Ideology. Études
Préliminaires aux religions orientales dans l’empire Romain 11.
Leiden: Brill, 1968; pp. 13–22.
Cansdale, G. “The Serpent in the Wilderness and Other Reptiles,”
 Animals of Bible Lands. Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1970; pp.
194–211.
Carnochan, F. G., and H. C. Adamson. Das Kaiserreich der
Schlangen. Zürich and Leipzig, 1938.
Carrasco, D. Quetzalcoatl and the Irony of Empire: Myths and
Prophecies in the Aztec Tradition. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1982.
Carson, D. A. “John and the Johannine Epistles,” in It Is Written:
Scripture Citing Scripture: Essays in Honour of B. Lindars, ed. H.
G. M. Williamson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1988; pp. 245–64.
Carstensen, R. “Christus als Arzt, Christus als Apotheker,” Cesra-
Säule 11/12 (1963) 252–55.
Carus, P. The History of the Devil and Idea of Evil. New York and
Avenel, N.J.: Gramercy Books, 1996.
Cassuto, U. The Goddess Anath, trans. I. Abrahams. Jerusalem:
Magnes Press, 1971.
Castigliono, A. “The Serpent as Healing God in Antiquity,” Ciba
Symposia 3 (1942) 1164.
Catastini, A. “4Q Sama: II. Nahas il ‘Serpente,’ “ Henoch 6 (1988) 17–
49. [In contrast to the traditional version of 1 Sam 10:27b-11:2a,
the readings in 4Q Samashow an interest in the Ammonite King
named Nachash, “the serpent.” The Qumran text has an addition
between 1 Sam 10:27 and 11:1 that is not found in the BHS but
is mirrored in Josephus (Ant 6.68–71).]
Caton, R. The Temples and Ritual of Asklepios at Epidauros and
Athens. London: C. J. Clay and Sons, 1900 [2nd ed.].
Cauville, S. Essai sur la théologie du temple d’Horus à Edfou, 2 vols.
Bibliothèque d’Étude 102. Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie
orientale du Caire, 1987.
______. La théologie du temple d’Horus à Edfou. Bibliothèque d’Étude
91. Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale du Caire, 1983.
Cazenave, M., ed. Encyclopédie des symboles: Encyclopédies
d’aujourd’hui, trans. F. Périgaut, G. Marie, and A. Tondat. N.c: Le
Livre de Poche, 1996 [originally published as: Biedermann, H.
Knaurs Lexikon der Symbole. Munich: Knaur, 1989].
Cazier, P. “Du serpent et de l’arbre de la connaissance: Lectures
patristiques (Philon, Grégoire de Nysse, Jean Chrysostome,
Augustin),” Grahè 4 (1995) 73–103.
Chabas, F. J. “Horus sur les crocodiles,” Zeitschrift für Ägyptische
Sprache und Altertumskunde 6 (1868) 99–106.
Chamberlain, J. V. “Another Qumrân Thanksgiving Psalm,” Journal of
Near Eastern Studies 14 (1955) 32–41.
______. “Further Elucidation of a Messianic Thanksgiving Psalm from
Qumrân,” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 14 (1955) 181–82.
Champeaux, G. de, and D. S. Sterckx. Einführung in die Welt der
Symbole, trans. C. Morano. Würzburg: Echter Verlag, 1990
[French original is of 1989]; see esp. “Der Baum” on pp. 307–35
and the serpent swallowing its tail in the middle of a zodiac on p.
54; also see pp. 63, 223, 281 and Illus. No. 110.
Charlesworth, J. H. “Anguine Iconography in the Studium Biblicum
Franciscanum Museum and Biblical Exegesis,” Liber Annuus 49
(1999) 431–42; Plates 5 and 6.
______. “Bashan, Symbology, Haplography, and Theology in Psalm
68,” in David and Zion: Biblical Studies in Honor of J. J. M.
Roberts, ed. B. F. Batto and K. L. Roberts. Winona Lake, Ind.:
Eisenbrauns. Pp. 351–72.
______. “Phenomenology, Symbology, and Lexicography: The
Amazingly Rich Vocabulary for ‘Serpent’ in Ancient Greek,”
Revue biblique 111 (2004) 499–515.
______. “Prolegomenous Reflections on Ophidian Iconography,
Symbology, and New Testament Theology,” in The New
Testament and Early Christian Literature in Greco-Roman
Context [Studies in Honor of David E. Aune], ed. J. Fotopoulos.
Supplements to Novum Testamentum 122; Leiden, Boston: Brill,
2006; pp. 315–29.
______. “Serpents,” in Archaeological Encyclopedia of the Holy Land,
ed. A. Negev and S. Gibson. New York, London: Continuum,
2001; pp. 457–58.
______. “The Symbol of the Serpent in the Bible: Surprising and
Challenging Archaeological Insights,” in Text Detectives:
Discovery the Meaning of Ancient Symbols and Concepts,
Biblical Archaeology Lecture Series DVD; Bible and Archaeology
 Fest VIII Set 3. Washington, D.C.
Chassinat, E. Le temple d’Edfou, 14 vols. Cairo: Institut français
d’archéologie orientale du Caire, 1928–34.
Cherry, J., ed. Mythical Beasts. London: British Museum Press, 1995.
Cheyne, T. K., and J. S. Black, eds. “Nehushtan,” Encyclopedia Biblica
3. New York and London: Macmillan, 1902; pp. 3387–88.
______. “Serpent,” Encyclopedia Biblica 4. New York and London:
Macmillan, 1902; pp. 4391–97.
Christinger, R. La mythologie de la suisse ancienne. Geneva: Musée
et Institut d’Ethnographie de Genève, 1965.
Chrysostom, John. St. John Chrysostom: Commentary on Saint John
the Apostle and Evangelist, Homilies 1–47, trans. T. A. Goggin.
The Fathers of the Church: A New Translation 33. New York:
Fathers of the Church, Inc., 1957; see esp. pp. 261–67.
Cicero, M. Tullius. De natura deorum, ed. and trans. U. Blank-
Sangmeister. Stuttgart: Philipp Reclam, 1995.
Cirlot, J. E. “Serpent,” A Dictionary of Symbols, trans. J. Sage. London:
Rout-ledge & Kegan Paul, 1962; pp. 272–77.
______. “Tree,” A Dictionary of Symbols, trans. J. Sage. London:
Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1962; pp. 328–33.
Clark, R. T. R. Myth and Symbol in Ancient Egypt. London: Thames
and Hudson, 1959; esp. pp. 50–53, 238–45.
Clarke, H., and C. S. Wake, Serpent and Siva Worship and Mythology,
in Central America, Africa, and Asia and the Origin of Serpent
Worship. Two Treatises. New York: J. W. Bouton, 1877.
Clarus, I. Keltische Mythen: Zeugnisse aus anderen Welt. Augsburg:
Bechter-münz Verlag, 1997; see esp. the illus. with serpents on
pp. 32–33, 36–37, and 302–3; also see the poem about the
serpent on p. 310.
Clement of Alexandria. Exhortation to the Heathen. Fathers of the
Second Century, ed. A. C. Coxe. The Ante-Nicene Fathers. The
Writings of the Fathers Down to A.D. 325, ed. A. Roberts and J.
Donaldson. Edinburgh: T & T Clark and Grand Rapids, Mich.:
Eerdmans, 1986; pp. 174–75.
Clermont-Ganneau, Ch. “Les cerfs mangeurs de serpents,” Recueil
d’Archéologie Orientale (1901) 319–22. [Regarding Num 21:6–9,
 the Bedouins know a snake they call haiyé taiyâra, “flying
serpent.”]
Coats, G. Rebellion in the Wilderness. Nashville: Abingdon, 1968.
Cogan, M., and H. Tadmor. II Kings: A New Translation with
Introduction and Comment. The Anchor Yale Bible. New York:
Doubleday, 1988; rpt. New Haven. See esp. pp. 216–17.
Cohen, A. P. “Coercing the Rain Deities in Ancient China,” History of
Religions 17 (1978) 244–65.
Cole, H. M. Mbari: Art and Life Among the Owerri Igbo. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1982.
Collins, J. J. “ ‘The King Has Become a Jew’: The Perspective on the
Gentile World in Bel and the Snake,” Seers, Sybils and Sages in
Hellenistic-Roman Judaism. Supplements to the Journal for the
Study of Judaism 54; Leiden, New York, 1997; pp. 167–77.
[Daniel kills a live snake worshipped by the Babylonians; he
feeds the snake a potion that causes it to burst.]
Condren, M. The Serpent and the Goddess: Women, Religion, and
Power in Celtic Ireland. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989.
Contenau, G. Everyday Life in Babylon and Assyria. London: E.
Arnold, 1954; see esp. Plate 23.
Cook, A. Zeus: God of the Bright Sky. Zeus: A Study in Ancient
Religion 1. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1914.
Cook, S. A. The Religion of Ancient Palestine in the Second Millenium
B.C. in the Light of Archaeology and the Inscriptions. Religions:
Ancient and Modern. London: Archibald, Constable & Co., Ltd.,
1908; see esp. pp. 13–15, 47–49, 105–11.
______. “Serpent Cults,” Encyclopaedia Britannica 20 (1949) 369–71.
Cooper, W. R. “Observations on the Serpent Myths of Ancient Egypt,”
Journal of the Transactions of the Victoria Institute [London] 6
(1873) 321–91; Plates 109, 111, 113, 115.
Coote, R. B. “Serpent and Sacred Marriage in Northwest Semitic
Tradition,” Harvard Theological Review 65 (1972) 594–95.
Copenhaven, B. P. Hermetica: The Greek “Corpus Hermeticum” and
the Latin “Asclepius” in a New English Translation, with Notes
and Introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.
Coppens, J. La connaissance du bien et du mal et la péché du
 paradis. Analecta Lovaniensia Biblica et Orientalia, Series II,
Fasc. 3. Gembloux: J. Duculot; Bruges-Paris: Desclée de
Brouwer; Louvain: É. Nauwelaerts, 1948; see esp. pp. 92–117.
______. “La dame-serpent du Sinaï,” Ephemerides Theologicae
Lovanienses 24 (1948) 409–12. [The text refers to “the Serpent-
Lady, my mistress.”]
Cosquin, E. “Un épisode d’un évangile syriaque et les contes de l’Inde:
Le serpent ingrat.—l’Enfant roi et juge,” RB NS 16 (1919) 136–
57.
Cotterell, A. The Macmillan Illustrated Encyclopedia of Myths and
Legends. New York: Macmillan, 1989.
Couffignal, R. “Adam et Eve, la pomme et le serpent,” Onomastique
Biblique, ed. Y. Le Boulicaut. Cahiers du Centre de Linguistique
et de Littérature Religieuses 5. Angers: Institut de
Perfectionnement en Langues Vivantes, 1990; pp. 27–36.
______. De “L’arbre au serpent” au “Jeune homme en blanc”: Etude
littéraire de récits bibliques. Etudes Littéraires: Bible et
Littérature. Sud: Editions Universitaires du Sud, 1993; see esp.
pp. 11–27, “L’Arbre au serpent (Genèse II, 4-III).”
Couliano, I. P. The Tree of Gnosis: Gnostic Mythology from Early
Christianity to Modern Nihilism, trans. H. S. Wiesner. San
Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1992 [originally published as
Les gnoses dualistes d’occident and published by Editions Plon,
1990].
Cox, H. On Not Leaving It to the Snake. New York: Macmillan, 1967.
Crooke, W. “Serpent-Worship: Indian,” Encyclopaedia of Religion and
Ethics, ed. J. Hastings. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark and New York:
Charles Scrib-ner’s Sons, 1920 [1962]; vol. 11, pp. 411–19.
Cross, F. M. Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History
of the Religion of Israel. Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1973.
______. “Yahweh and the Gods of the Patriarchs,” Harvard
Theological Review 55 (1962) 225–59.
Crown, A., ed. The Samaritans. Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1989; see
esp. p. 356.
Cumont, F. The Mysteries of Mithra. New York: Dover, 1956 [original:
Die Mysterien des Mithra. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1903].
Curatola, G. “Serpenti e ‘draghi’ anatolici: Un’antica questione,” Studi
su Harran 6 (1979) 123–35.
Currid, J. D. “The Egyptian Setting of the ‘Serpent’: Confrontation in
Exodus 7, 8–13,” Biblische Zeitschrift N.F. 39 (1995) 203–24.
Dahan, G., ed. Les juifs au regard de l’histoire: Mélanges en l’honneur
de Berhard Blumenkranz. Paris: Picard, 1985.
D’Alviella. The Mysteries of Eleusis: The Secret Rites and Rituals of
the Classical Greek Mystery Tradition. Wellingborough,
Northamptonshire: The Aquarian Press, 1918 [originally
published as Eleusinia: De mysteriën van Eleusis. Amsterdam:
W. N. Schors, 1981].
Dan, J. “Jewish Gnosticism?” Jewish Studies Quarterly 2 (1995) 309–
28.
Daniélou, J. The Development of Christian Doctrine Before the Council
of Ni-caea, vol. I: The Theology of Jewish Christianity, trans. J.
A. Baker. London: Darton, Longman, & Todd, 1964.
______. Primitive Christian Symbols, trans. D. Attwater. Baltimore,
Md.: Helicon Press, 1964 [originally published by Paris: Éditions
du Seuil, 1961].
Daugherty, M. L. “Serpent-handling as sacrament,” New and Intense
Movements, ed. M. Marty. New York: Saur, 1993.
Davidson, H. R. E. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. New York:
Pelican, 1964; reprinted in New York: Penguin, 1990.
Davies, L. G. “Serpent Imagery in Ancient Israel: The Relationship
Between the Literature and the Physical Remains.” PhD
Dissertation, University of Utah, 1986.
Davies, N. M., and A. H. Gardiner. Ancient Egyptian Paintings, 2 vols.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1936.
Deane, J. B. The Worship of the Serpent Traced Throughout the
World. London: J. G. & F. Rivington, 1833 [2d ed.]. Deimel, A.
“Die Schlange bei den Babyloniern,” Orientalia 14 (1924) 49–57.
Delcor, M. “Un psaume messianique de Qumran,” in Mélanges
bibliques: Rédigés en l’honneur de André Robert. Travaux de
l’Institut Catholique de Paris 4. Paris: Bloud & Gay, 1957; see
esp. pp. 334–40.
Delhalle, J. C., and A. Luykx. “Le Serpent à plumes des Olmèques à
 Teotihuacân,” Revue de l’histoire des religions 199 (1982) 123–
30.
Delumeau, J. History of Paradise: The Garden of Eden in Myth and
Tradition, trans. Matthew O’Connell. New York: Continuum, 1995.
Deonna, W. “Emblèmes médicaux des temps modernes: Du bâton
serpentaire d’Asklepos au caducée d’Hermès,” Revue intern. de
la Croix-rouge, 1933. pp. 128–51.
De Pury, A. Homme et animal Dieu les créa: L’Ancien Testament et les
animaux. Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1993.
Dermoût, M. “The Good Serpent,” trans. F. Franck. Parabola 4, no. 4.
(1979) 54–57.
Derrett, J. D. M. “The Bronze Serpent,” Estudios Bíblicos 49 (1991)
311–29.
______. Symbolism in Greek Mythology: Human Desire and its
Transformations. Boulder, Colo., and London: Shambhala, 1980
[originally published as Le symbolisme dans la mythologie
grecque: Étude psychanalytique. Paris: Payot, 1952].
______. Symbolism in the Bible: The Universality of Symbolic
Language and Its Psychological Significance, trans. N. Marans.
San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1986 [originally published as Le
symbolisme dans la bible. Paris: Payot, 1975].
Diehl, U. “Die Darstellung der Ehernen Schlange von ihren Anfänge
bis zum Ende des Mittelalters.” PhD Dissertation, Munich, 1956.
Diel, P., and J. Solotareff. Symbolism in the Gospel of John, trans. N.
Marans. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988 [originally
published as Le symbolisme dans l’Évangile de Jean. Paris:
Payot, 1983].
Dietrich, A. Abraxas: Studien zur Religionsgeschichte des Spätern
Altertums. Festschrift Hermann Usener zur Feier seiner 25.
Jährigen Lehrtätigkeit an der Bonner Universität, dargebracht
vom Klassisch-Philologischen Verein zu Bonn. Leipzig: B. G.
Teubner, 1891.
Diettrich, M., and O. Loretz. “Die Bannung von Schlangengift (KTU
1.100 und KTU 1.107:7b-13a. 19b-20),” Ugarit-Forschungen 12
(1980) 153–70.
Diettrich, M., O. Lorentz, and J. Sanmartín, “Bemerkungen zur
Schlangenbeschwörung RS 24.244 = UG. 5, S. 564FF. NR. 7,”
 Ugarit-Forschungen 7 (1975) 121–25.
Dillemann, G. “Le palmier, le serpent et les roches,” Produits et
problèmes pharmaceutiques 21.8 (1966). N.V.
Diller, H. “Edelstein, Asclepius,” Gnomon (1950) 130–38.
Dillon, E. J. The Sceptics of the Old Testament: Job, Koheleth, Agur.
London: Isbister and Co., Ltd., 1895.
Desroches-Noblecourt, C. “Poissons, tabours et transformations du
mort,” Kemi 13 (1954) 34–37.
Dinkler, E. Christus und Asklepios: Zum Christustypus der
polychromen Platten im Museo Nazionale Romano.
Sitzungsberichte der Heidelberger Akademie der
Wissenschaften Ph.-his. Klasse 1980. 2. Abhandlung.
Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 1980. [See the thirty illustrations, esp.
the last one that shows Asclepius, perhaps, with a serpent.]
______. Signum Crucis: Aufsätze zum Neuen Testament und zur
Christlichen Archäologie. Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1967.
Dioszégi, V. Glaubenswelt und Folklore der sibirischen Völker.
Budapest: Aka-demiai Kiado, 1963.
Dombart, T. “Die Grabstele des Horus ‘Schlange,’ “ in Aus fünf
Jahrtausenden morgenländischer Kultur [Festschrift M. Freiherrn
von Oppenheim]. Archiv für Orientforschung Beiheft 1. Berlin: Dr.
Ernst F. Weidner, 1933; pp. 18–26.
D’Onofrio, C. “Serpente, nelle religioni antiche,” Enciclopedia Cattolica
11 (1953) cols. 393–94.
Doresse, J. “Hermès et la gnose: A propos de l’Asclepius Copte,”
Novum Testa-mentum 1 (1956) 54–69.
Driver, G. R. Canaanite Myths and Legends. Old Testament Studies
111. Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1956 [reprinted by Lewis Reprints
Limited, Port Talbot, Glamorgan, 1971].
______. “Mythical Monsters in the Old Testament,” Studi orientalistici
in onore di Giorgio Levi della Vida. Vol. I. Istituto per l’Oriente
(Italy) Pubblicazioni, no. 52. Rome: Istituto per l’Oriente, 1956;
pp. 234–49.
Drumond, D. C. “Mouse Traps or Snake Houses,” Report of the
Department of Antiquities; Cyprus, 1983. Nicosia: Zavallis Press,
1983; pp. 199–200. [Drumond suggests that the erstwhile “snake
 houses” are traps to catch mice and other rodents.]
Duchaussoy, J. Le bestiaire divin ou la symbolique des animaux.
Paris: La Colombe, Editions du Vieux Colombier, 1958; see esp.
pp. 102–26.
Dukova, U. “Das Bild des Drachen im bulgarischen Märchen,” Fabula
11 (1971) 227ff.
Dulaey, M. “Le bâton transformé en serpent: L’exégèse augustinienne
d’Ex 4,” Collectanea Augustiniana: Mélanges T. J. van Bavel, ed.
B. Bruning et al. Louvain: Leuven University Press, 1990; vol. 2.
N.V.
Dunand, F. “Agathodaimon,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classi-cae 1.1, pp. 277–82; see also the photographs in LIMC,
1.2, Illus. 203-206.
______. “Les représentations de l’Agathodémon: A propos de
quelques bas-reliefs du Musée d’Alexandrie,” Bulletin de l’institut
français d’archéologie orientale 67 (1969) 9–48.
Dupont-Sommer, A. “La mère du messie et la mère de l’Aspic dans un
hymne de Qumrân (DST iii, 6–18),” Revue de l’Histoire des
Religions 147 (1955) 174–88.
______. The Essene Writings from Qumran, trans. G. Vermes.
Gloucester, Mass.: Peter Smith, 1973; see esp. pp. 208–9
[originally published as Les Écrits esseniens découverts près de
la mer Morte. Paris: Les Editions Payot, 1961].
Durando, F. Griechenland: Wiege der westlichen Kultur, trans. D.
Krumbach. Erlangen: Karl Müller Verlag, 1997 [German
translation of the English original].
Dvorak, K. “Zur Sage vom Schlangenbann,” Fabula 18 (1977) 256–58.
Eberhard, W. “Von der Schlange, die für das Mädchen zeugte—
Inselmärchen des Mittelmeeres,” MdW. N.V.
Edelstein, E. J., and L. Edelstein. Asclepius: A Collection and
Interpretation of the Testimonies, 2 vols. Publications of the
Institute of the History of Medicine; Johns Hopkins University,
Second Series: Texts and Documents 2. Baltimore, Md: Johns
Hopkins Press, 1945.
Egli, H. Das Schlangensymbol: Geschichte, Märchen, Mythos.
Freiburg im Breisgau: Walter-Verlag Olten, 1982. [Il simbolo
delserpente, trans. M. Fragia-como. Genova: Edizioni Culturali
 Internazionali Genova, 1993.]
Egmond, F. “The Cock, the Dog, the Serpent, and the Monkey:
Reception and Transmission of a Roman Punishment, or
Historiography as History,” International Journal of the Classical
Tradition 2 (1995) 159–92. [The poena cullei (punishment of
parricide by throwing the guilty into water in a sack with cock,
dog, monkey, and serpent) was popular in the fifteenth to
seventeenth centuries, but may have evolved from early Roman
times.]
Ehresmann, D. L. “The Brazen Serpent in the Works of Lucas Cranach
the Elder and His Workshop: A Study in Lutheran Iconography.”
PhD. Dissertation, New York University, 1963.
______. “The Brazen Serpent, A Reformation Motif in the Works of
Lucas Cranach the Elder and his Workshop,” Marsyas 13
(1966/67) 32–47. [This important study shows how significant the
Brazen Serpent was for Martin Luther and the Reformation.]
Ehrlich, E. L. Die Kultsymbolik im Alten Testament und im
nachbiblischen Judentum. Symbolik der Religionen 3. Stuttgart:
A. Hiersemann, 1959.
Eilberg-Schwartz, H. God’s Phallus and Other Problems for Men and
Monotheism. Boston: Beacon Press, 1994.
Eliade, M. Birth and Rebirth: The Religious Meanings of Initiation in
Human Culture, trans. W. R. Trask. New York: Harper and
Brothers, 1958.
______. A History of Religious Ideas. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1979.
______. The Myth of the Eternal Return. Bollingen Foundation Series
46. New York: Pantheon Books, 1954.
______. Gods, Goddesses, and Myths of Creation. New York: Harper
& Row, 1974.
______. Das Mysterium der Wiedergeburt: Initiationsriten, ihre
kulturelle und religiöse Bedeutung. Zürich: Rascher, 1961; see
esp. pp. 67–68.
______. Patterns in Comparative Religion, trans. R. Sheed. New York:
Mentor, 1958.
Eliot, A. The Global Myths: Exploring Primitive, Pagan, Sacred, and
Scientific Mythologies. New York: Continuum, 1993.
Elkin, A. P. “The Rainbow-Serpent Myth in North-West Australia,”
Oceania 1 (1930) 349–51.
______. “Rockpaintings of North-East Australia,” Oceania 1 (1930)
257–79.
Ellis, E. E. The Old Testament in Early Christianity. WUNT 54.
Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1991; see esp. pp. 105–9.
Ellul, D., ed. “Un homme, une femme et un serpent,” Foi et Vie 80
(1981) 1–81.
Engler, H. R. Die Sonne als Symbol: Der Schlüssel zu den Mysterien.
Zürich and Künacht: Helianthus Verlag, 1962; see esp. pp. 135–
59.
Engnell, I. “ ‘Knowledge’ and ‘Life’ in the Creation Story,” in Wisdom in
Israel and in the Ancient Near East. Supplements to Vetus
Testamentum 3. Leiden: Brill, 1960; see esp. pp. 103–19.
______. Studies in Divine Kingship in the Ancient Near East. Oxford:
Blackwell, 1967.
Epiphanius of Salamis. The Panarion of Ephiphanius of Salamis, Book
I, trans. F. Williams. Nag Hammadi and Manichaean Studies 35.
Leiden and New York: Brill, 1987.
______. The Panarion of Ephiphanius of Salamis, Books II and III,
trans. F. Williams. Nag Hammadi and Manichaean Studies 36.
Leiden and New York: Brill, 1994.
Erdmann, J. E. Der neue Mensch und die eherne Schlange. N.c.: n.p.,
1856.
Erlenmeyer, M. “Über Schlangendarstellungen in der frühen Bildkunst
des Alten Osten,” Archiv für Orientforschung 23 (1970) 52–62.
Erman, A. A Handbook of Egyptian Religion, trans. A. S. Griffith.
London: Archibald, Constable, & Co., Ltd., 1907; see esp. pp.
20–21, 36–37, 224–27.
Ernst, J. “Die Schlange in der Schöpfungsgeschichte” (chapter from
Die escha-tologischen Gegenspieler in den Schriften des Neuen
Testaments). Biblische Untersuchungen, Band 3. Regensburg,
Germany: F. Pustet, 1967; pp. 241–50.
Erskine, T. The Brazen Serpent; or, Life Coming Through Death.
Edinburgh: Waugh & Innes, 1831 (2nd ed.); see esp. pp. 112–22.
Esche, S. Adam und Eva: Sündenfall und Erlösung. Lukas-Bücherei
zur christlichen Ikonographie. Düsseldorf: n.p, 1957.
Esser, A. “Asklepios und die Schlange,” Forschungen und Fortschritte
17/18 (1948) 196–98.
Eusebius. The Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius in Syriac, ed. W.
Wright and N. McLean. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1898.
______. Preparation for the Gospel, Part I: Books 1–9, trans. E. H.
Gifford. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1903; reprinted in Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book House, 1981; see esp. pp. 39a-41d.
Evans, A. “Mycenean Tree and Pillar Cult in its Mediterranean
Relations,” Journal of Hellenic Studies 21 (1901) 99–204.
______. “The Snake Goddess and Relics of Her Shrine,” in The
Palace of Minos. London: Macmillan, 1921; vol. 1.3, pp. 495–
523.
______. “A ‘Snake Room’ of Domestic Cult; ‘Snake Tube,’ Their Origin
and Survival,” in The Palace of Minos. London: Macmillan, 1935;
vol. 4.1; pp. 138–71.
Fabry, H.-J. “V)rO,” Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Alten Testament.
Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1986; vol. 5, cols. 384–97.
______. “ ,” Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Alten Testament.
Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1986; vol. 5, cols. 468–73.
Fader, E. Die Bildersprache der Evangellien. Berlin: n.p., 1937.
Farbridge, M. H. Studies in Biblical and Semitic Symbolism. New York:
KTAV, 1970 [reprint of 1923 edition].
Farnell, L. R.
, trans. E. Papadoülou. Athens:
, 1997.
Farrer, A. A Rebirth of Image: The Making of St. John’s Apocalypse.
Westminster: Dacre, 1949.
Faulkner, R. O. “A Statue of a Serpent-Worshipper,” Journal of
Egyptian Archaeology 20 (1934) 154–56, Plate XIX.
Faure, B. “Space and Place in Chinese Religious Traditions,” Harvard
Theological Review 26 (1987) 337–56.
Fauth, W. “Widder, Schlange und Vogel am Heiligen Baum: Zur
 Ikonographie einer Anatolisch-Mediterranean
Symbolkonstellation,” Anatolica 6 (19771978) 129–57, Plates 1–
16.
Feliks, Y. Nature and Man in the Bible: Chapters in Biblical Ecology.
London, Jerusalem, and New York: Soncino Press, 1981; see
esp. pp. 94–100.
Fenton, T. “Baal au foudre: Of Snakes and Mountains, Myth and
Message,” in Ugarit, Religion and Culture, ed. N. Wyatt, W. G. E.
Watson, and J. B. Lloyd. Münster, 1996; pp. 49–64. [In this
Festscrift in honor of J. C. L. Gibson, Fenton demonstrates that
the stela known as the “Baal of the Thunderbolt,” unearthed near
the Temple of Baal at Ugarit, contains not mountains, as
supposed (e.g., as by C. Schaeffer), but a snake. Below Baal lies
his foe: a serpent.]
Ferguson, E., ed. “Miracle,” Encyclopedia of Early Christianity. New
York and London: Garland, 1990; pp. 600–605.
Ferguson, G. Signs and Symbols in Christian Art. New York and
London: Oxford University Press, 1954; paperback, New York
and London: Oxford University Press, 1961.
Ferguson, J. The Religions of the Roman Empire. Aspects of Greek
and Roman Life, ed. H. H. Scullard. Itaca, N. Y.: Cornell
University Press, 1970.
______. Tree and Serpent Worship, or Illustrations of Mythology and
Art in India. London: W. H. Allen (for India Museum), 1868.
Ferwerda, R. “Le serpent, le nud d’Hercule et le caducée d’Hermès:
Sur un passage Orphique chez Athénagore,” Numen 20 (1973)
104–15.
Feyerick, A. Genesis: World of Myths and Patriarchs. New York and
London: New York University Press, 1996.
Filée, J. “Polysémie de Sanguine Viperino dans l’Ode I,8 d’Horace?”
Les Études Classiques 61 (1993) 139–41.
Finegan, J. Light from the Ancient Past. Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1946; see esp. pp. 139–46.
Finkielsztejn, G. “Asklepios Leontoukhos et le mythe de la coupe de
Césarée Maritime,” RB 93 (1986) 419–28.
Fischle, W. H. Das Geheimnis der Schlange: Deutung eines Symbols.
Psychologisch Gesehen 46. Fellbach-Oeffingen: Verlag Adolf
 Bonz, 1983, 1989 [2nd ed.] [a valuable psychological study; see
the Ouroboros on the cover; from the Schweizerisches Museum
für Volkskunde in Basel].
Fishwick, D. “On the Origin of the Rotas-Sator Square,” Harvard
Theological Review 57 (1964) 39–53.
Flemming, J. “Die Ikonographie von Adam und Eva vom. 3. Bis zum
13. Jahrhundert.” PhD. Dissertation, Jena, 1953.
Flusser, D. “It’s Not a Serpent That Kills,” Judaism and the Origins of
Christianity. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1988; pp. 543–51.
Foerster, W. “ ,” Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, ed.
G. Kittel, trans. G. W. Bromiley. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans,
1967; vol. 2, pp. 281–83.
______. “ ,” Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, ed. G.
Friedrich, trans. G. W. Bromiley. Grand Rapids, Mich.:
Eerdmans, 1967; vol. 5, pp. 566–82.
Fontenrose, J. Python: A Study of Delphic Myth and Its Origins. Los
Angeles, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1959.
Ford, J. The Story of Paradise. Richmond, United Kingdom: H. & B.
Publications, 1981.
Forrest, E. R. The Snake Dance of the Hopi Indians. Los Angeles:
Westernlore Press, 1961.
Forsyth, N. The Old Enemy: Satan and the Combat Myth. Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987; see esp. pp. 232ff.
Fortune, R. F. “The Symbolism of the Serpent,” International Journal of
Psychoanalysis 3 (1926) 327ff. [tends to focus only on the
symbol of the serpent as phallic].
Foster, B. “Gilgamesh: Sex, Love and the Ascent of Knowledge,” in
Love and Death in the Ancient Near East: Essays in Honor of
Marvin H. Pope, ed. J. H. Marks and R. M. Good. Guilford,
Conn.: Four Quarters Publishing Co., 1987; pp. 21–42.
Fourcade, P. “Mythen und Legenden,” in Schlangen, ed. R. Bauchot,
trans. C. Ronsiek et al. Augsburg: Naturbuch Verlag, 1994
[French original is also 1994]; pp. 184–93.
Fox, C. “Circle and Serpent Antiquities,” Palestine Exploration Fund
(1894) 83–87.
France, R. T., and D. Wenham. Gospel Perspectives: Studies in
 Midrash and Historiography 3. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983.
Franke, A. H. Das Alte Testament bei Johannes: Ein Beitrag zur
Eklärung und Beurtheilung der johanneischen Schriften.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1885.
Franke, P. R. “Asklepios—Aesculapius auf antiken Münzen,” Mediz.
Monatsspiegel 3 (1969) 60–67.
______. “Die Münzsammlung der Universität Erlangen-Nürnberg,”
Archäologischer Anzeiger 82 (1967) 67–92. [On p. 83 are shown
examples of the serpent images on coins minted at Pergamon in
the second and first centuries BCE.]
Frankfort, H. “Gods and Myths on Sargonid Seals,” Iraq 1 (1934) 2–29.
______. Cylinder Seals: A Documentary Essay on the Art and Religion
of the Ancient Near East. London: Macmillan and Co., 1939,
1965 [2nd ed., Gregg Press].
______. Kingship and the Gods. Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1948.
Frayne, D. R. “Naram-Suen and the Musussu Serpents,” JAOS 102
(1982) 511–13. [Note how serpents are placed on a temple gate
bolt for apotropaic purposes.]
Frazer, J. G. The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the Dead.
London: Macmillan, 1913; see esp. vol. 1, pp. 69–72. [Frazer
argues that the molting serpent symbolized immortality.]
______. Folk-lore in the Old Testament: Studies in Comparative
Religion, Legend and Law. London: Macmillan, 1919; see esp.
vol. 1, pp. 66ff.
______. The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion. New York:
Macmillan, 1911–1935.
______. “The Serpent and the Tree of Life,” in Essays and Studies
Presented to William Ridgeway. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1913; pp. 413–26.
______. Totemica: A Supplement to Totemism and Exogamy. London:
Macmillan, 1937.
______. Totemism and Exogamy, 4 vols. London: Macmillan, 1910.
Fredrikson, N. I. “La métaphore du sel et du serpent chez Aphraate, le
Sage persan,” Revue de l’histoire des religions 219 (2002) 35–
54. [The serpent symbolizes evil.]
Freed, E. D. Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John. Novum
Testamen-tum Supplements 11. Leiden: Brill, 1965.
Freedman, D. N. “Divine Names and Titles in Early Hebrew Poetry,” in
Magna-lia Dei, the Mighty Acts of God: Essays on the Bible and
Archaeology in Memory of G. Ernest Wright, ed. F. M. Cross.
Garden City, N. Y.: Double-day, 1976; pp. 55–107.
Frenschkowski, M. “Religion auf dem Markt,” in Hairesis [Festschrift K.
Hoh-eisel]. Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum
Ergänzungsband 34; Münster: Aschendorff, 2002; pp. 140–58;
see esp. pp. 150–53: “Der Schlangen-beschwörer.”
[Frenschkowski rightly points out that we often hear about
serpents through exotic travelogues and from tourists.]
Frey, J. “ ‘Wie die Schlange in der Wüste erhöht hat …’: Zur
frühjüdischen Deutung der ‘ehernen Schlange’ und ihrer
christologischen Rezeption in Johannes 3, 14f.,”
Schriftauslegung im antiken Judentum und im Urchristentum, ed.
M. Hengel and H. Löhr. WUNT 73. Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck),
1994; pp. 153–205.
Friedrich, J. “Der churritische Mythus vom Schlangendämon …”
Frederico Hro-zny Dedicatae, ed. V. Cihar et al. Archiv Orientâlnî
17. Prague: Orientâlnî, 1949; pp. 230–54.
Fritsche, H. Die Erhöhung der Schlange: Mysterium, Menschenbild
und Mirakel der Homöopathie. Göttingen: Ulrich Burgdorf Verlag,
1994 [8th ed.]
Fritze, H. von, “Die Münze von Pergamon,” Abhandlungen der
KöniglichPreussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin.
PhilosophischHistorische Klasse-Anhang. Berlin: Akademie der
Wissenschaften, 1910.
Frothingham, A. L. “Babylonian Origin of Hermes the Snake-God, and
of the Caduceus,” American Journal of Archaeology. Second
Series 20 (1916) 175–211. [The caduceus is foreshadowed or
represented in cylinders from the fourth millennium.]
Frutiger, A. “Le serpent et la colombe,” La mémoire et le temps:
Mélanges offerts à Pierre Bonnard, ed. D. Marguerat et al.
Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1991.
Fuchs, G. ed. Lange Irrfahrt-grosse Heimkehr: Odysseus als Archetyp
—zur Aktualität des Mythos. Frankfurt am Main: Verlag Josef
Knecht, 1994.
Fuldner, A. De Ophitis. 1834. N.V.
Gabler, J. P. “An Oration: On the Proper Distinction between Biblical
and Dogmatic Theology and the Specific Objectives of Each,” pp.
134–44 in John Sandys-Wunsch and Laurence Eldredge, “J. P.
Gabler and the Distinction between Biblical and Dogmatic
Theology: Translation, Commentary, and Discussion of His
Originality,” Scottish Journal of Theology 33 (1980): 133–58.
Gadd, C. J. “Some Contributions to the Gilgamesh Epic,” Iraq 28
(1966) 105–21.
Galpaz-Feller, P. “Egyptological Motifs in the Sign of the Serpent
(Exodus 4:2–5; 7:8–14),” Beit Mikra 171 (2002) [Hebrew]. [The
biblical text is enlightened from Egyptian motifs.]
Ganszyniec, R. De Agathodaemone. Warsaw, 1919.
Garbini, G. “Le Serpent d’Airain et Moïse,” Zeitschrift für die
alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 100 (1988) 264–67.
Gardiner, A. “The Personal Name of King Serpent,” Journal of
Egyptian Archaeology 44 (1958) 38–39.
Gardiner, E., ed. Visions of Heaven and Hell Before Dante. New York:
Italica Press, 1989.
Gardner, J., and J. Maier. Gilgamesh: Translated from the Sî-leqi-
unninni Version. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1984.
Garstang, J., and J. B. E. Garstang, The Story of Jericho. London:
Hodder and Stoughton (1940). [Plate 3 shows a serpent with its
mouth open on a MBIIB chalice.]
Gaster, T. H. Myth, Legend, and Custom in the Old Testament: A
Comparative Study with Chapters From Sir James G. Frazier’s
“Folklore in the Old Testament.” New York: Harper & Row, 1969.
______. “Myth, Mythology,” Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, ed. G.
Buttrick et al. New York, Nashville: Abingdon, 1962; vol. 3, pp.
481–87.
______. “Mythic Thought in the Ancient Near East,” Journal of the
History of Ideas 16 (1955) 422–26.
______. “Sharper Than a Serpent’s Tooth: A Canaanite Charm Against
a Snakebite,” The Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of
Columbia University 7 (1975) 33–51.
______. “The Ugaritic Charm Against Snakebite: An Additional Note,”
 The Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia
University 2 (1980) 43–44.
Gauer, W. “Konstantin und die Geschichte zu den ‘Spolien’ am
Konstantinsbogen und zur Schlangensäule,” Panchaia
[Festschrift K. Thraede], ed. M. Wacht. Jahrbuch für Antike und
Christentum Ergänzungsband 22. Münster: Aschendorffsche
Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1995; pp. 131–40.
Gerber, Ch. “Die Schlange auf der Tonkugel,” in Beiträge zur
Kulturgeschichte Vorderasiens [Festschrift M. Boehmer], ed. U.
Finkbeiner et al. Mainz: P. von Zabern, 1995; pp. 175–76. [This
work is focused on the serpent relief in the Uruk-Sammlung in
Heidelberg.]
Gerhard, H. “Über agathodämon und bona dea,” Akademie der
Wissenschaften (24 June 1847) 461–99.
Gerke, F. Spätantike und Frühes Christentum. Kunst der Welt. Baden-
Baden: Holle Verlag, 1980 [original is 1967]; see esp. p. 30
[serpent with Adam and his wife, Chamber of the Good
Sherperd, Coemeterium maius in Rome, early third cent. CE], p.
81 [Jonah expelled by a large serpent-dragon (not a fish),
Aquileia, fourth cent. CE], and p. 235 [discussion of serpent
symbolism].
Ghazal, E. Schlangenkult und Tempelliebe: Sakrale Erotik in
archaischen Gesellschaften. Berlin: Simon and Leutner Verlag,
1995; see esp. the illustrations on p. 79 [the uraeus], p. 80
[serpents from various cultures], 81 [serpent image from Elam (c.
3500 BCE)], p. 83 [two serpent priestesses], p. 85 [Na-gakal
serpent stone], p. 124 [a serpent priestess from Crete, c. 1500
BCE], p. 148 [a nude “female dancer” with a serpent as a phallus].

Giedion, S. The Eternal Present: The Beginnings of Art. Bollingen

Foundation Series 35.6.1. New York: Pantheon Books, 1962; see
esp. pp. 308–309 [a line-drawing of a serpent from Le Baume-
Latrone, France, c. 40,000 to 26,000 BCE, the earliest evidence
of serpent iconography].
Gimbutas, M. The Goddesses and Gods of Old Europe 6500–3500
B.C. Berkeley, 1982 [rev. ed.].
______. The Language of the Goddess. New York: Harper & Row,
1989.
Ginzberg, H. L. “Did Anath Fight the Dragon?” Bulletin of the American
 Schools of Oriental Research 84 (1941) 12–14.
Ginzberg, L. Die Haggada bei den Kirchenvätern und in der
apokryphischen Litteratur. Berlin: S. Calvary & Co., 1900; see
esp. pp. 59–60.
______. The Legends of the Jews, 7 vols., trans. H. Szold.
Philadephia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1909;
see esp. vol. 5, pp. 40–42, 71–86.
Girardi, M. “Il cervo in lotta col serpente: Esegesi e simbolica
antiariana nell’Omelia sul Salmo 28 di Basilio di Cesarea,” Annali
di Storia dell’ Esegesi 4 (1987) 67–85.
Gittin, S., T. Dotan, and J. Naveh, “A Royal Dedication Inscription from
Tel Miqneh/Ekron,” Qadmoniot 30 (1997) 38–43 [Hebrew]. [A
cobra hammered out of fine gold, and in the Egyptian style,
probably from the seventh century BCE, was discovered at Tel
Miqneh/Ekron.]
Giversen, S., and B. A. Pearson, trans. “The Testimony of Truth,” in
The Nag Hammadi Library, ed. J. M. Robinson. San Francisco:
Harper & Row, 1977; pp. 406–16.
Glasson, T. F. Moses in the Fourth Gospel. Naperville, Ill.: A. R.
Allenson, 1963.
Glay, M. Le, “Abraxas,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae 1.1, pp. 2–7 [see the bibliography]; see the
photographs in LIMC 1.2, Illus. 6–14.
______. “Aion,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 1.1,
pp. 399–411 [see the bibliography]; see the photographs in LIMC
1.2, pp. 315-19.
Gočeva, Z. “Hygieia,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae 5.1, pp. 554–73 [bibliography]; see the photographs in
LIMC 5.2, Plates 380-95.
Goedicke, H. “The Snake in the Story of the Shipwrecked Sailor,”
Göttinger Miszellen 39 (1980) 27–31.
Goff, B. L. Symbols of Prehistoric Mesopotamia. New Haven, London:
Yale University Press, 1963.
Golan, A. “Snake Water,” Myth and Symbol: Symbolism in Prehistoric
Religions, trans. R. Schneider-Teteruk. Jerusalem: n.p., 1991;
see esp. pp. 101–14.
Goldberg, A. “Kain: Sohn des Menschen oder Sohn der Schlange,”
Judaica 25 (1969) 203–21; reprinted in Goldberg, Gesammelte
Studien I Texte und Studien zum Antiken Judentum 61;
Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1997; pp. 275–88.
Golowin, S. Drache, Einhorn, Oster-Hase und anderes phantatisches
Getier. Basel: Sphinx Verlag, 1994.
Goodenough, E. R. Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period, 13
volumes. Bollingen Series, 37. New York: Pantheon Books,
1953.
Goodison, L., and C. Morris, eds. Ancient Goddesses: The Myths and
the Evidence. London: British Museum Press, 1998; see esp.
“Uncoiling Images: Minoan ‘Snake Goddesses’?,” pp. 123–25.
Goodspeed, E. J. Die ältesten Apologeten: Texte mit kurzen
Einleitungen. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1914.
Goppelt, L. Typos. Gütersloh: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellshaft,
1939. [reprinted Darmstadt, 1969]; see p. 220.
Gordon, C. H. “Leviathan: Symbol of Evil,” in Biblical Motifs, Origins
and Transformation, ed. A. Altman. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press, 1966; pp. 1–9.
______. Ugaritic Literature. Rome: Pontificum Institutum Biblicum,
1949.
Gorelick, L., and E. Williams-Forte, eds. Ancient Seals and the Bible.
Malibu, Calif.: Undena, 1983.
Görg, M. Aegyptiaca—Biblica. Ägypten und Altes Testament 11.
Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1991; see esp. pp. 252–71: “Das
Wort zur Schlange (Gen 3, 14f): Gedanken zum sogenannten
Protoevangelium.” [See next entry.]
______. “Die ‘Sünde’ Salomos: Zeitkritische Aspekte der jahwistischen
Sünden-fallerzählung,” Biblische Notizen 16 (1981) 42–59; Görg,
“Weisheit als Provokation: Religionsgeschichtliche und
theologische Aspekte der Sün-denfallerzählung,” in Die Kraft der
Hoffnung [Festschrift J. Schneider] (Bamberg: St.-Otto-Verf.,
1982); pp. 19–34.
______. “Das Wort zur Schlange (Gen 3, 14f): Gedanken zum
sogenannten Proto-evangelium,” Biblische Notizen 19 (1992)
121–40.
Gosse, B. “L’écriture de Gn 3, le serpent dualité de la femme et de
 l’homme,” Biblische Notizen 98 (1999) 19–20.
Gossen, H., and Steier, A. “Schlange,” Pauly-Wissowa Suppl. 2.3.
Stuttgart: J. B. Metzlersche, 1921; cols. 494–557.
Gourbillon, J.-G. “La parabole du serpent d’airain et la ‘lacune’ du ch.
III de l’Évangile selon S. Jean,” Vivre et Penser 2 (1942) 213–26
[= RB N.S. 5152 (1942)]
Graepler-Diehl, U. “Eherne Schlange,” Lexicon der christliche
Iconographie (1968) 583–86.
Grafman, R. “Bringing Tiamat to Earth,” Israel Exploration Journal 22
(1972) 47–49.
Granshinietz, “Agathodämon,” Pauly-Wissowa Suppl. 3 (1918) 37–59.
Grant, R. M. Gnosticism: A Source Book of Heretical Writings from the
Early Christian Period. New York: Harper & Row, 1961; see esp.
pp. 52–59, 89–92, 104–15 [for a translation of Ophite sources].
Graves, R., and R. Patai. Hebrew Myths: The Book of Genesis. New
York: McGraw-Hill, 1966.
Gray, J. I and II Kings: A Commentary. The Old Testament Library.
Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1964 [2nd ed.]; see esp. pp.
669–71.
______. Near Eastern Mythology. London and New York: Hamlyn,
1969.
Greaves, S. W. “Wordplay and Associative Magic in the Ugaritic
Snake-bite Incantation RS 24.244,” Ugarit-Forschungen 26
(1994) 165–67.
Green, M. J. Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend. London: Thames
and Hudson, 1992, reprinted 1997; see esp. p. 149 [Mercury],
pp. 169–70 [phallus], pp. 194–95 [serpent], and pp. 195–96 [ram-
horned snake].
Greenman, E. F. Guide to Serpent Mounds. Columbus: Ohio Historical
Society, 1964.
Gressmann, H. “Der Zauberstab des Moses und die eherne
Schlange,” Zeitschrift für Vereins für Volkskunde 23 (1913) 18–
35. [Gressmann claimed that Moses’ staff became the raised
copper serpent.]
Grether, O., and J. Fichtner, “Die Schlange im AT,” TWNT 5 (1954)
571–75.
Grimm, J. Teutonic Mythology, 4 vols., trans. J. S. Stallybrass. London,
1888 [4th ed.].
Grimme, E. G. Europäische Malerei im Mittelalter. Ullstein
Kunstgeschichte 12. West Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1963; see esp.
Fig. 5 [the serpent in Eden] and Illus. 14 [serpent like a woman in
Eden].
Gruber, J. R. Die Ophiten. Würzburg, 1864.
Gruenthaner, M. J. “The Demonology of the Old Testament,” Catholic
Biblical Quarterly 6 (1944) 6–27. [Gruenthaner thought that the
“Serpent who plays such a sinister part in the fall of our first
parents is the first principle of evil which we encounter in the
Bible” (see p. 7)].
Grzimek, F. “Die Riesenschlangen,” in Grzimeks Tierleben. Zürich,
1971; vol. 6, p. 371.
Gubernatis, A. de. Zoological Mythology: The Legends of Animals, 2
vols. New York: Macmillan, 1872 [reprinted by Singing Tree
Press, 1968]; see esp. pp. 388–420: “The Serpent and the
Aquatic Monster.”
Guiley, R. E. Harper’s Encyclopedia of Mystical and Paranormal
Experience. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1991.
Gunkel, H. The Stories of Genesis: A Translation of the Third Edition of
the Introduction to Hermann Gunkel’s Commentary on the Book
of Genesis, ed. W. R. Scott, trans. J. J. Scullion. Vallejo, Calif.:
BIBAL, 1994.
Güterbock, H. G. “Le mot hittite hartaggas ‘serpent’,” Revue Hittite et
Asianique 6 (1941) 102–09. [The meaning of hartaggas has not
been clear. Now, in light of its appearance on a tablet found at
Bogazköy in 1933, the noun probably denotes a snake.]
Hall, H. R. The Ancient History of the Near East. London: Methuen and
Co., Ltd., 1913; see esp. p. 485. [Hall also suggested that Moses’
staff was also the upraised copper serpent.]
Halliday, W. R. Greek Divination: A Study of Its Methods and
Principles. London: Macmillan, 1913; see esp. pp. 82–91.
Hallo, W. W., and J. J. van Dijk. The Exaltation of Inanna. New Haven
and London: Yale University Press, 1968.
Hambly, W. D. Serpent Worship in Africa. Field Museum of Natural
History Anthropological Series, Vol. XXI, no. 1. Chicago: Field
 Museum Press, 1931; note esp. pp. 56–67: “The Question of an
External Origin of African Serpent Beliefs.”
Hamilton, M. Incubation or the Cure of Disease in Pagan Temples and
Christian Churches. London: Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent
& Co., 1906; see esp. pp. 1–79 [on the cult of Asclepius].
Hammond, P. C. “The Snake Monument at Petra,” American Journal of
Arabic Studies 1 (1973) 1–29.
Hampton-Cook, E. “The Serpent in Eden (Gen. iii),” Expository Times
18 (19061907) 287.
Hanauer, J. E. Folklore of the Holy Land: Moslem, Christian, and
Jewish. London: Sheldon Press, 1907, 1935; see esp. pp. 211–
13, 268.
Handy, L. K. “Serpent (Religious Symbol),” The Anchor Yale Bible
Dictionary. New York: Doubleday, 1992; rpt. New Haven; vol. 5,
pp. 1113–16.
Hankey, V. “A Snake Vase in Stone from a Late Bronze Age Temple at
Amman,” Jahrbuch des Deutschen Archaeologischen Instituts,
Archaeologischer Anzeiger 82 (1967) 298–302. [The vase may
have originated in Mesopotamia.]
______. “Imported Vessels of the Late Bronze Age at High Places,”
Temples and High Places in Biblical Times, ed. A. Biran.
Jerusalem: Nelson Glueck School of Biblical Archaeology of
Hebrew Union College—Jewish Institute of Religion, 1981; pp.
108–17.
Hanson, R. S. The Serpent Was Wiser: A New Look at Genesis 1–11.
Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1972.
Haran, M. “The Ark and the Cherubim: Their Symbolic Significance in
Biblical Ritual,” Israel Exploration Journal 9 (1959) 30–38, 89–94.
Harl, K. W. Coinage in the Roman Economy: 300 B.C. to A.D. 700.
Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins University Press,
1996.
Harnack, A. The Mission and Expansion of Christianity in the First
Three Centuries, trans. J. Moffat. New York: Harper Torchbooks,
1962 [originally published in London: Williams and Norgate,
1908].
Hartlaub, G. F. “Mythos und Magie der Schlange,” Atlantis 12 (1940)
570.
Haspecker, J., and N. Lohfink, “Gn 3,15: ‘Weil du ihm Nach der Ferse
Schnappst,’ “ Scholastik 36 (1961) 357–72.
Hastings, J., ed. “Serpent-worship,” Encyclopedia of Religion and
Ethics. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark and New York: Charles
Scribner’s Sons, 1920, 1962; vol. 11, pp. 399–423.
Hauenstein, A. “Le serpent dans les rites, cultes et coutumes de
certaines ethnies de Cotes d’Ivoire,” Anthropos 73 (1978) 525–
60.
Haupt, P. “The Curse on the Serpent,” Journal of Biblical Literature 35
(1916) 155–62.
Hausenstein, W. Das Bild Atlanten zur Kunst. Munich: Piper, 1922; vol.
5–6, see esp. pp. 62 and 65. [Three squares in the bronze door
of the Dom in Augsburg feature serpents; at least one seems to
be a positive image of two serpents eating from a tree. Bowls
depicting serpents eating from trees, antedating 1000 BCE, have
been found in Israel.]
Havelock, C. M. Hellenistic Art: The Art of the Classical World from the
Death of Alexander the Great to the Battle of Actium. New York
and London: W.W. Norton & Co., 1981 [2nd ed.].
Hayes, L. N. The Chinese Dragon. Shanghai: n.p., 1922.
Hediger, H. “Die Schlangen,” in Grzimeks Tierleben. Zürich, 1971; vol.
6, p. 352.
Hehn, J. “Zur Paradiesesschlange,” Festschrift Sebastian Merkle, ed.
W. Schellberg et al. Düsseldorf: L. Schwann, 1922; pp. 137–51.
Heidel, A. The Gilgamesh Epic and Old Testament Parallels. Chicago
and London: University of Chicago Press, 1946 [2nd ed. 1949,
1963].
Heinz-Mohr, G. Lexikon der Symbole: Bilder und Zeichen der
christlichen Kunst. Munich: Eugen Diederichs Verlag, 1971,
reprinted 1998; see esp. “Schlange” on pp. 276–78.
Heizer, R. F. “The Hopi Snake Dance: Fact and Fancy,” in Readings in
Anthropology, ed. J. D. Jennings and E. A. Hoebel. New York:
McGraw-Hill, 1955; pp. 243–45.
Hendel, R. S. “Nehushtan,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the
Bible, ed. K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst.
Leiden and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999
 [2nd ed.]; pp. 615–16.—
______.”Serpent,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible, ed.
K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst. Leiden
and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999 [2nd ed.];
pp. 744–47.
Henderson, J. L. “Ancient Myth and Modern Man,” in Man and His
Symbols, ed. C. G. Jung et al. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday,
1964; pp. 89–141.
Henderson, J. L., and M. Oakes. The Wisdom of the Serpent: The
Myths of Death, Rebirth, and Resurrection. New York: George
Braziller, Inc., 1963; reprint, Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University
Press, 1990.
Hengel, M. “Die Schriftauslegung des 4. Evangeliums auf dem
Hintergrund der urchristlichen Exegese,” Journal of Bible and
Theology 4 (1989) 249–88.
Hennemann, A., ed. Der Schlangenkönig: Märchen aus Nepal. Kassel,
1980; pp. 19–33.
Henry, M.-L. “Schlange,” Biblisch-historisches Handwörterbuch, ed. B.
Reiche and L. Rost. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966;
vol. 3, cols. 1699–1701.
______. Das Tier im religiösen Bewusstsein des alttestamentlichen
Menschen. Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck), 1958.
Henton, J. W. van. “Dragon,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the
Bible, ed. K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst.
Leiden and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999
[2nd ed.]; pp. 265–67.
______. “Python,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible, ed.
K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst. Leiden
and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999 (2nd ed.);
pp. 669–71.
Hentze, C. “Le poisson comme symbole du fécundité dans la Chine
ancienne,” Bulletin de Musée Royale. N.V.
______. “Die Regenbogenschlange,” Anthropos 61 (1966) 258–66.
______. “Die zerstückelte Schlange,” Antaios 9 (1968) 253–61.
Herrmann, F. Symbolik in den Religionen der Naturvölker. Symbolik
der Religion, IX, ed. F. Herrmann. Stuttgart: Anton Hiersemann,
 1961; see esp. pp. 107–10, 138–141.
Herzog, R. “Asklepios,” Reallex. für Antike und Christentum 1 (1950)
795–99.
Hieronymus. Commentarium in Matheum: Libri IV. Corpus
Christianorum Series Latina 77. S. Hieronymi Presbyteri Opera:
Pars 1, 7. Turnholt: Brepolis Editores Pontificii, 1969.
Hilgenfeld, A. “Der Gnosticismus und die Philosophumena,” Zeitschrift
für wissenschaftliche Theologie 5 (1862) 400ff. [This is a work on
the Ophites.]
Hill, A. “The Temple of Asclepius: An Alternative Source for Paul’s
Body Theology?” Journal of Biblical Literature 99 (1980) 437–39.
Himmelfarb, M. Tours of Hell: An Apocalyptic Form in Jewish and
Christian Literature. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983.
Hjerl-Hansen, B. “Le rapprochement poisson-serpent dans le
prédication de Jésus (Mt. VII, 10 et Luc. XI, 11),” RB N.S. 55
(1948) 195–98.
Hönig, A. Die Ophiten. Berlin, 1889. N.V.
Hobbs, T. R. 2 Kings. Word Biblical Commentary 13. Waco, Tex.:
Word, 1985; see esp. pp. 250–53.
Hocquenghem, A. M. “Les ‘crocs’ et les ‘serpents’: L’autorité absolue
des ancêtres mythiques,” Representations of Gods, ed. H. G.
Kippenberg. Visible Religion 2; Leiden: Brill, 1983; pp. 58–74.
[Hocquenghem discusses Peruvian figures with human and
serpent features that date from approximately 200 BCE to 700
CE, and convey ideas preserved in sixteenth-and seventeenth-
century Spanish lexicons. These images embody symbolically
immortal power.]
Hofbauer, J. “Die Paradiesesschlange (Gn 3),” Zeitschrift für
katholische Theologie 59 (1947) 228–31.
Hoffmann, I. “Die Schlange im Bett: Anlässe für Rituale bei den
Hethithern,” Altorientalische Forschungen 17 (1990) 186–88.
Holland, T. A. Publications: The Oriental Institute 1906–1991:
Exploring the History and Civilizations of the Near East. Oriental
Institute Communications 26. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1991.
Holmberg, U. Der Baum des Lebens: Göttinnen und Baumkult. Bern:
 Edition Amalia, 1996; originally published in 1922); see the
following Illus.: 34 [serpent entwined on a tree], 37 [serpent
goddess Ganga], 41 [the goddess Erde with a serpent], 53 [a
serpent three times curled around the navel stone], 67 [two
serpents, upraised, beneath a three-headed goddess].
Holter, K. “The Serpent in Eden as a Symbol of Israel’s Political
Enemies: A Yah-wistic Criticism of the Solomonic Foreign
Policy?” Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament 1 (1990)
106–12. [With W. von Soden (see the entry) and M. Görg (see
the entry), Holter sees a hidden polemic against Solomon’s
foreign policy, but rightly claims more than Egypt is in view, since
nachash in the Old Testament symbolizes Egypt as well as other
nations. Since the J writer perceived Israel as a blessing for all
nations, Gen 12:3 (“and whoever curses you I will curse”) has
polemical political overtones directed against Solomon’s foreign
alliances.]
Holtom, D. C. The Japanese Enthronement Ceremonies with an
Account of the Imperial Regalia. Tokyo: The Japan Advertiser
Press, 1928.
Honecker, M. “Christus Medicus,” Kerygma und Dogma 31 (1985)
307–23.
Hopfner, T. Das Diagramm der Ophiten. 1930; see esp. pp. 86ff. N.V.
______. “Der Tierkult der alten Ägypter,” Denkschriften der
kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien,
Philosophisch-historische Klasse 57.2; Abhandlung 6 (1913)
136–49.
Hornung, E. “Die Bedeutung des Tieres im alten Ägypten,” Studium
Generale 20 (1967) 69–84.
______. Idea Into Image: Essays on Ancient Egyptian Thought, trans.
E. Bredeck. n.c.: Timken Publishers, Inc., 1992; see esp. pp. 49–
51, 62–67.
Houlihan, P. F. The Animal World of the Pharaohs. London and New
York: Thames and Hudson, 1996.
Houziaux, A. Le Tohu-bohu, le Serpent et le bon Dieu. Paris: Presses
de la Renaissance, 1997.
Howard-Brook, W. Becoming Children of God: John’s Gospel and
Radical Dis-cipleship. The Bible and Liberation. Maryknoll, N. Y.:
 Orbis Books, 1994.
Howey, M. O. The Encircled Serpent: A Study of Serpent Symbolism in
All Countries and Ages. New York: Arthur Richmond Company,
1955. [Originally published London, 1926; a valuable book, full of
data, but not refined by scientific methodology.]
Hübner, J. “Christus Medicus: Ein Symbol des Erlösungsgeschehens
und ein Modell ärztlichen Handelns,” Kerygma und Dogma 31
(1985) 324–35.
Hultkranzt, A. The Religions of the American Indians, trans. M.
Setterwall. Hermeneutics: Studies in the History of Religions 7.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979.
Hunger, J. Babylonische Tieromina nebst griechisch-römischen
Parallelen. Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft 3.
Rome: Peiser, 1909.
Hunger, K.-H. Der Äskulapstab: Zur Funktion präsentativer Symbole in
der Kommunikation. Hochschul-Skripten: Medien 7. Berlin:
Volker Spiess, 1978. [Seminal and important; the photographs
are especially valuable, see esp. pp. 111–203.]
Hvidberg, F. “The Canaanite Background of Gen I—III,” Vetus
Testamentum 10 (1960) 285–94. [Recognizing that Canaan
provided much of the iconography and symbology for ancient
Israel, Hvidberg concluded that, according to Genesis 3, the
serpent brought death and not life. He was the deceiver who is
not synonymous with Satan but with Baal, Yahweh’s old
adversary.]
Ibuki, Y. “Gedankenaufbau und Hintergrund des 3. Kapitels des
Johannesevangeliums,” Bulletin of Seikei University 14 (1978) 9–
33.
Inoltre, V. The Dragon in China and Japan. Wiesbaden, 1913.
Ions, V. Indian Mythology. New York: P. Bedrick Books, 1984 [rev. ed.].
Irenaeus. The Refutation of All Heresies, in The Apostolic Fathers:
Justin Martyr and Irenaeus. The Ante-Nicene Fathers. Original
publication facts not given; reprint in Grand Rapids, Mich.:
Eerdmans, 1973; see esp. vol. 1, Book 4, chap. 2 and Book 5,
chap. 9–14.
Irmscher, J., trans. Antike Fabeln. Bibliothek der Antike. Berlin:
Aufbau-Verlag, 1991 [3rd ed.]. [a collection of Greek and Latin
 passages on the serpent].
Isser, S. J. The Dositheans: A Samaritan Sect in Late Antiquity.
Leiden: Brill, 1976.
Jackson, H. M. “The Meaning and Function of the Leontocephaline in
Roman Mithraism,” Numen 32 (1985) 17–45.
Jackson, R. Doctors and Diseases in the Roman Empire. London:
British Museum Press, 1988.
Jacobs, A. “Provacative and Tendentious,” The Reformed Journal 39
(1989) 2125 [a review of E. Pagels’ Adam, Eve, and the Serpent.
New York: Random House, 1988].
Jacobsen, T., and S. N. Kramer. “The Myth of Inanna and Bilulu,”
Journal of Near Eastern Studies 12 (1953) 160–88, with Plates.
Jakobsson, O. “Daimon och Agathos Daimon,” PhD Dissertation,
Lund, 1925.
James, E. O. Myths and Rituals in the Ancient Near East. New York:
Frederick A. Praeger, 1958.
______. The Tree of Life: An Archaeological Study. Leiden: Brill, 1966.
Jaros, K. “Die Motive der Heiligen Bäume und der Schlange in Gen 2–
3,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 92 (1980)
204–15.
Jayne, W. A. The Healing Gods of Ancient Civilizations. New Haven:
Yale University Press, and London: Oxford University Press,
1925; see esp. pp. 22223, 230–31, 254–57, 282–85.
Jefremow, I. Das Herz der Schlange, trans. H. Angarowa et al.
Moscow: Verlag für Fremdsprachige Literatur, n.d. [novelistic]
Jenson, R. W., ed. “Bronze serpent,” Dialog 17 (1978) 251–86.
Jeremias, A. Das Alte Testament im Lichte des Alten Orients. Leipzig:
J. C. Hin-richs, 1916 [3rd ed.].
Joger, U. The Venomous Snakes of the Near and Middle East.
Beihefte zum Tübinger Atlas des Vorderen Orients Reihe A, Nr.
12; Wiesbaden: Ludwig Reichert Verlag, 1984 [a manual of the
taxonomy and distribution of venomous snakes in the Near and
Middle East; see esp. the drawings on pp. 89–95].
Johnson, B. Lady of the Beasts: Ancient Images of the Goddess and
Her Sacred Animals. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1988;
 see esp. “The Serpent” on pp. 121–91 [valuable, full of data, well
organized, heavily influenced by Jung; at times lacks proper
nuancing].
Johnson, S. B. The Cobra Goddess of Ancient Egypt: Predynastic,
Early Dynastic, and Old Kingdom Periods. London, New York:
Kegan Paul International, 1990; see the important discussion of
the meaning of the uraeus on pp. 3–11 and the earliest known
examples of it on pp. 19–33.
Joines, K. R. “The Serpent in Gen 3,” Zeitschrift für die
alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 87 (1975) 1–11.
______. “The Bronze Serpent in the Israelite Cult,” Journal of Biblical
Literature 87 (1968) 245–56.
______. “The Bronze Serpent in the OT.” PhD Dissertation, Southern
Baptist Theological Seminary, 1967.
______. “The Serpent in Gen 3,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 87 (1975) 1–11.
______. Serpent Symbolism in the Old Testament: A Linguistic,
Archaeological, and Literary Study. Haddonfield, N.J.:
Haddonfield House, 1974.
______. “Winged Serpents in Isaiah’s Inaugural Vision,” Journal of
Biblical Literature 86 (1967) 410–15.
Jonas, H. Gnosis und spätantiker Geist. Vol. 1. Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1934; see esp. pp. 221–23, 358–62
[for Ophites].
______. The Gnostic Religion: The Message of the Alien God and the
Beginnings of Christianity [2nd. ed., rev.] Boston: Beacon Press,
1963; pp. 91–96.
Jones, G. H. 1 and 2 Kings, Vol. II: 1 Kings 17:1–2 Kings 25:30. New
Century Bible Commentary. Basingstoke, Hants. (United
Kingdom): Marshall, Morgan & Scott, 1984; reprint, Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans (n.d); see esp. pp. 560–63.
Jordon-Smith, P. “The Serpent and the Eagle,” Parabola: The
Magazine of Myth and Tradition 14 (1989) 64–71.
Joüon, P. “Le grand dragon, l’ancien serpent,” Recherches de Science
Religieuse 17 (1927) 444–46.
Justin. Justin: “Dialogue avec Tryphon,” ed. G. Archambault. Textes et
 documents pour l’étude historique du Christianisme 11. Paris:
Librairie Alphonse Picard et Fils, 1909.
______. Saint Justin: “Apologies,” ed. A. Wartelle. Paris: Études
Augustiniennes, 1987.
Kaestli, J. D. “L’interprétation du serpent de Genèse 3 dans quelques
textes gnos-tiques et la question de la gnose ‘Ophite,’ “
Gnosticisme et monde Hellénistique, ed. J. Ries et al.
Publications de L’Institut Orientaliste de Louvain 27. Louvain-la-
Neuve: Université Catholique de Louvain, Institut Orientaliste,
1982; pp. 116–30.
Kähler, H. Rom und sein Imperium. Kunst der Welt. Baden-Baden:
Holle Verlag, 1979 [3rd ed.]; see esp. Illus. 11 [Apollo altar].
Kâkosy, L. “The Astral Snakes of the Nile,” Mitteilungen des
Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts Abteilung Kairo 37 (1981)
255–60. [Festschrift for L. Habachi.]
Kambach, J. J. Betrachtung des Geheimnisses Jesu Christi in dem
Vorbilde der Ehernen Schlange. Halle: Verlegung des
Wausenhauses, 1728.
Karageorghis, V. “A ‘Snake-house’ from Enkomi,” Cyprus: Report of
the Department of Antiquities (1972) 109–12 [see the publication
by Drummond].
Keel, O. Jahwe-Visionen und Siegelkunst. Stuttgarter Bibelstudien
84/85. Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1977; see esp.
pp. 71–74 and 83–92.
______. Das Recht der Bilder gesehen zu werden: Drei Fallstudien zur
Methode der Interpretation altorientalischer Bilder. Orbis Biblicus
et Orientalis 122. Freiburg, Schweiz: Universitätsverlag and
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1992; see esp. “Polyvalenz
der Schlange,” on pp. 195–267.
______. Die Welt der altorientalischen Bildsymbolik und das Alte
Testament: Am Beispiel der Psalmen. Zürich: Benziger Verlag,
1972. The focus preempts inclusion of Gen 3:1–23 and Num 21,
perhaps; but see Illus. 19, 38, 41, 46–48 [the serpent as a
symbol of chaos and evil to be conquered], 49–50 [the serpent
as symbolizing creation, perhaps], 55 [the serpent as symbolic of
time and chronology], 94 [the demonic serpent], 106 [the serpent
as dangerous and bearer of death], 125–26.
Keel, O., and C. Uehlinger. Gods, Goddesses, and Images of God in
Ancient Israel, trans. T. H. Trapp. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1998.
Kees, H. “Der angebliche Gauname ‘Schlangenberg,” Mitteilungen des
Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts Abteilung Kairo 20 (1965)
102–9.
______. Der Götterglaube im Alten Ägypten. Mitteilungen der
VorderasiastischAgyptischen Gesellschaft 45. Leipzig, 1941;
Berlin, 1956 [2nd ed.].
______. “Die Schlangensteine und ihre Beziehungen zu den
Reichsheiligtümern,” Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und
Altertumskunde 57 (1922) 120-36.
Keimer, L. Histoires de serpents dans l’Égypte ancienne et moderne.
Mémoires de l’Institut d’Égypte 50. Cairo: Institut Français, 1947.
Keller, O. “Schlangen,” Die antike Tierwelt. Hildesheim: Olms, 1963
[from original in Leipzig, 1913]; vol. 2, pp. 284–305.
Kemal, Y. Töte die Schlange, trans. C. Bischoff. Zürich: Unionsverlag,
1988 [the original Turkish is 1976]. [a novel]
Kendall, T. “Schlangenspiel,” Lexikon der Ägyptologie 5.1 (1983) cols.
653–55 [plus see his bibliography on this game].
Kenyon, K. Excavations at Jericho: The Tombs Excavated in 1952–
1954. Vol. 1. Jerusalem: British School of Archaeology, 1960.
[See Fig. 162, which is a vase in the shape of a bird; the vase
has images of two serpents.]
______. Excavations at Jericho: The Tombs Excavated in 1955–1958.
Vol. 2. Jerusalem: British School of Archaeology, 1965.
Kerényi, C. Asklepios: Archetypal Image of the Physician’s Existence,
trans. R. Manheim. Bollingen Series 65. New York: Pantheon
Books, 1959 [originally published as Der Göttliche Arzt: Studien
über Asklepios und seine Kultstätten. Basel: Ciba Ltd., 1948
(republished in Darmstadt in 1964)].
______. Dionysos: Archetypal Image of Indestructible Life. Bollingen
Foundation Series 65.2. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1976.
______. Die Mysterien von Eleusis. Zürich: Rhein-Verlag, 1962.
______. The Gods of the Greeks, trans. N. Cameron. New York:
Thames and Hudson, 1951.
Kerschensteiner, “Die Schlange des Asklepios,” Knolls mitteil. für
Ärzte,” Jubil. Ausg. (1866–1936) 250–55.
Kiernan, J. P. “The Fall: An Anthropological Answer to a Religious
Riddle,” Religion in Southern Africa 6, no. 1 (1985) 59–69.
Kimbrough, D. L. Taking Up Serpents. Chapel Hill and London:
University of North Carolina Press, 1995. [Also see the book by
W. La Barre.]
King, K. L. Revelation of the Unknowable God. California Classical
Library. Santa Rosa, Calif.: Polebridge Press, 1995.
King, L. W. A History of Babylon. New York: F. A. Stokes, 18-?; p. 72
[6th cent. BCE bronze serpents are depicted beside the four doors
of the temple of Esagila].
Kirk, G. S. Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient and Other
Cultures. Sather Classical Lectures 40. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1970, and Los Angeles and Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1970.
Kiss, Z. “Ouroboros,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae 7.1, pp. 136–37; see the photographs in LIMC 7.2,
Plate 93.
Kitagawa, J. M. “Ainu Myth,” in Myths and Symbols, ed. Kitagawa and
C. H. Long. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1969; pp.
309–23.
Kittel, G. = gekreuzigt werden: Zur angeblichen antioche-nischen
Herkunft des Vierten Evangelisten,” Zeitschrift für die neutesta-
mentliche Wissenschaft 35 (1936) 282–85.
Kittel, R. “Der Schlangenstein im Kidrontal bei Jerusalem,” in Studien
zur Hebräischen Archäologie und Religionsgeschichte. Leipzig:
Druck von A. Edelmann, 1908; pp. 159–88.
Kjeseth, P. “Nehushtan (Num 21, 4–9, 2Kgs 18,4) and Ernst Bloch,”
Dialog 17 (1978) 280–86.
Klímová, D. “Beitrag zur Problematik der Entwicklung der
Folkloristischen Motive Schlafkraut und Lebenskraut der
Schlangen,” in Symbolae Biblicae et Mesopotamicae [Dedicated
to F. M. T. de Liagre Böhl], ed. M. A. Beek et al. Leiden: Brill,
1973; pp. 243–52.
Klinger, J. “Bethesda and the Universality of the Logos,” St. Vladimir’s
Theological Quarterly 27 (1983) 169–85.
Klüsener, E., and F. Pfäfflin, eds. Else Lasker-Schüler 1869–1945.
Marbacher Magazin 71. Marbach am Neckar: Deutsche
Schillergesellschaft, 1995.
Koch, J. Chr. “De cultu serpentem apud antiquos,” Thesaurus
Dissertationum, ed. J. Chr. Martini. Leipzig, 1717; vol. 2, p. 1765.
Koehler, L., and W. Baumgartner. “ ,” The Hebrew and Aramaic
Lexicon of the Old Testament, rev. W. Baumgartner and J. J.
Stamm, trans. and ed. M. E. J. Richardson. Leiden and New
York: Brill, 1995; vol. 2, pp. 692–93.
Koenen, K. “Eherne Schlange und goldenes Kalb: Ein Vergleich der
Überlieferungen,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 111 (1999) 353–72.
Koester, H. History, Culture, and Religion of the Hellenistic Age:
Introduction to the New Testament. New York and Berlin: Walter
De Gruyter, 1982; see esp. vol. 1, pp. 182–204.
Koh, S. “An Archaeological Investigation of the Snake Cult in the
Southern Levant: The Chalcolithic Period Through the Iron Age.”
PhD Dissertation, University of Chicago, 1994.
Koldewey, R. The Excavations at Babylon. London: Macmillan, 1914;
see esp. p. 45. [Nebuchadnezzar wrote that he placed “mighty
figures of serpents” at the “thresholds” of the temple of Nana.]
Kong, W-y. Zwischen Tiger und Schlange. 1976. N.V.
König, K. Bruder Tier: Mensch und Tier in Mythos und Evolution.
Stuttgart: Verlag Freies Geistesleben, 1967.
Koppens, W. Geheimnisse des Dschungels. Lucerne, 1947; see esp.
p. 80.
Kossatz-Deissmann, A. “Chnoubis,” in Lexicon Iconographicum
Mythologiae Graecae 3.1, pp. 272–73 [see the bibliography]; see
the photographs in LIMC, 3.2, Plates 218–19.
Kovacs, M. G., trans. The Epic of Gilgamesh. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford
University Press, 1985; see esp. pp. 106–107.
Kramer, S. N. Gilgamesh and the Huluppu-Tree: A Reconstructed
Sumerian Text. Assyriological Studies 10. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1938.
______. Sumerian Mythology: A Study of Spiritual and Literary
Achievement in the Third Millenium B.C. Philadelphia: The
 American Philosophical Society, 1944; new and revised edition in
1961 by Harper & Row in New York.
Kramp, W. Protest der Schlange: Signale zum Umdenken. Berlin:
Kreuz, 1970. [Kramp assumes that the symbol of the serpent
embodies destruction and powers opposed to God.]
Krauskopf, I., and S.-C. Dahlinger, “Gorgo, Gorgones,” in Lexicon
Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 4.1, pp. 285–330
[bibliography]; see the photographs in LIMC 4.2, Plates 161–62.
Kraybill, J. N. “Cult and Commerce in Revelation 18.” PhD
Dissertation, Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, 1992.
Kretschmar, G. “Ophiten und Naassener,” Religion im Geschichte und
Gegenwart [Dritte] 4 (I960) cols. 1659–60.
Kristensen, W. B. “De Slangenstaf en het Spraakvermogen van Mozes
en Aäron,” Mededelingen der Koninklijke Nederlandse Akademie
van Wetenschap-pen N.S. 16.14 (1953) 591–610.
Kroha, T. Grosses Lexikon der Numismatik. Gütersloh: Bertelsmann
Lexikon Verlag, 1997; see esp. pp. 40, 95, 214, 242, and 466. [In
the history of coins, the animals most often represented are
serpents, bears, dolphins, lambs, owls, fish, scorpions, deer
(esp. bucks), and especially eagles, lions, and horses.]
Kroll, W., and K. Witte, eds. “Schlange,” Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der
clas-sischen Altertumwissenschaft, Zweite Reihe. Dritter
Halbrand. Stuttgart: J. B. Metzlersche Verlagsbuchhandlung
(1921) 494–557.
Kübel, P. “Ein Wortspiel in Genesis 3 und sein Hintergrund: Die ‘kluge’
Schlange und die ‘nackten’ Menschen,” Biblische Notizen 93
(1998) 11–22.
Küster, E. Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und Religion.
Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten 13.2.
Giessen: Töpelmann, 1913.
La Barre, W. They Shall Take Up Serpents: Psychology of the
Southern Snake-Handling Cult. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 1962. [See the book by Kimbrough.]
Laeuchli, S. The Serpent and the Dove: Five Essays on Early
Christianity. Nashville, and New York: Abingdon Press, 1966.
Laisné, C. Kunst der Griechen, trans. I. Hanneforth. Paris: Terrail,
1995; see esp. pp. 34, 83, 101, 125, 159–71, 172–73.
Langbrandtner, W. Weltferner Gott oder Gott der Liebe: Der
Ketzerstreit in der johanneischen Kirche. Eine exegetisch-
religionsgeschichte Untersuchung mit Berücksichtigung der
koptisch-gnostischen Texte aus Nag-Hammadi. Beiträge zur
Biblischen Exegese und Theologie 6. Frankfurt am Main, Bern
and Las Vegas: Peter Lang, 1977.
Langdon, S. Building Inscriptions of the Neo-Babylonian Empire. Part
I: Nabo-polassar and Nebuchadnezzar. Paris: Ernest Leroux,
1905; pp. 79, 85, 105, 131 [Nebuchadnezzar records that he
placed bulls and serpents in numerous cultic places.]
Lapatin, K. Mysteries of the Snake Goddess: Art, Desire, and the
Forging of History. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2002.
Laubscher, H. P. “Der Schlangenwürgende Herakles: Seine Bedeutung
in der Herrscherikonologie,” Jahrbuch des Deutschen
Archäologischen Instituts 112 (1997) 149–66. [The depictions of
Baby Hercules strangling the two snakes sent to him by the
jealous Hera had political significance; it was used especially to
legitimize the new power of the Ptolemies.]
Lavagne, H., et al., eds. Mosaique. Ars Latina. Paris, 2000 [among the
animals most often represented on mosaics is the snake; p. 45].
Lawrence, T. E. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph. Garden City,
N.Y.: Doubleday, 1935; see esp. pp. 273–80.
Lawuyi, O. B., and J. K. Olupona. “Metaphoric Associations and the
Conception of Death: Analysis of a Yoruba World View,” Journal
of Religion in Africa 18 (1988) 2–14.
Leclant, J., and G. Clerc, “Ammon,” in Lexicon Iconographicum
Mythologiae Classicae 1.1, pp. 666–89 [see the superb
bibliography]; also see the photographs in LIMC 1.2, Plates 534–
54.
Leclercq, H. “Abrasax,” Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de
liturgie 1 (1924) 127–55 [see the excellent bibliography].
______. “Serpent,” Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie
15 (1950) cols. 1353–57. [Leclercq correctly points out that
according to Jn 3:14 and a “poterie hollandaise” (Fig. 10881) “le
serpent d’airain” is a “symbole du Christ.”]
Lee, C. “Moses’ Serpent as a Patristic ‘Type,’ “ Dialog 17 (1978) 251–
60.
Leeming, D. A. The World of Myth: An Anthology. New York and
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990.
Leeming, D. A., and M. A. Leeming. A Dictionary of Creation Myths.
New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. [Leeming and
Leeming argue that the serpent played a role, often major, in the
creation myths of the Aztecs, Buriats, Hebrews, Lenapes,
Mosetenes, and Yuchis (they missed many other cultures in
which the serpent is crucial in creation myths, esp. the
Aborigines of Australia and the Vedas).]
Leeuw, G. van der. Phänomenologie der Religion. Neue Theologische
Grundrisse. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1956 [2nd
ed.].
Legge, F. Forerunners and Rivals of Christianity from 330 B.C. to 330
A.D. New Hyde Park, N. Y.: University Books, 1964.
Legrain, L. Seal Cylinders. Ur Excavations 10. London: Oxford
University Press, 1951.
Leipoldt, J., and W. Grundmann, eds. Umwelt des Urchristentums, 3
vols. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1971, 1972, 1967 [the
first two volumes reached a third edition, the third only a second];
see esp. vol. 1, pp. 69–73, 112 [Asclepius]; vol. 2, pp. 68–72; vol.
3 [note these illustrations: from Greece: Nos. 2, 3, 18; from
special places: Nos. 19, 20, 23; from Eleusis cult: No. 29; from
Dionysus cult: nothing; from Orpheus cult: No. 74; from Asia
Minor: No. 81; from Mithraism: Nos. 112, 113; from India: nothing
[amazing]; from Syria: Nos. 135, 136; from Egypt: Nos. 212, 256,
266, 279, 292; from the Latin world: No. 320; from Etruria:
nothing]. All notations pertain to the symbolism of the serpent.
Leisegang, H. H OP&IKH AATPEIA ZTH MEZOTEIO TO MYZTHPIO
TOY EPIIETOY. Athens: IAMBAIXO2, 1993 [originally published
as Leisegang, H. “Das Mysterium der Schlange: Ein Beitrag zur
Erforschung des griechischen Mysterienkultes und seines
Fortlebens in der christlichen Welt,” Eranos-Jahrbuch (1939)
151–250]. [Fourteen illustrations.]
______. “The Mystery of the Serpent,” The Mysteries: Papers from the
Eranos Yearbooks. Vol. 2, ed. J. Campbell. Bollingen Series 30.
New York: Pantheon Books, 1955.
Leitz, C. Die Schlangennamen in den ägyptischen und griechischen
Giftbüchern. Akademie der Wissenschaften und der Literatur Ab.
 Geites-und Sozialwissenschaftlichen Klasse 1997, no. 6.
Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1997. [Scholarly; see esp. the
bibliography on books concerning poisons.]
______. “Die Schlangensprüche in den Pyramidentexten,” Orientalia
N.S. 65 (1996) 381–427.
Lesêtre, H. “Serpent,” Dictionnaire de Bible (1912) 1671–74.
Lesky, E. “Was ist über die ursprüngliche Bedeutung des
Schlangenstabs bekannt?” Deutsche Medizinische
Wochenschrift (1959) 2095. N.V.
Lessa, W. A., and E. Z. Vogt, eds. Reader in Comparative Religion: An
Anthropological Approach. New York: Harper & Row, 1979 [4th
ed.].
Levey, A. “Bad Timing: Time to Get a New Theory,” Biblical
Archaeology Review 24.4 (1998) 18–23. [See the three game
boards in the form of a roundel for a game called mehen; they
are formed to depict curled serpents, photos on p. 21.]
Levine, B. A., and J. M. de Tarragon. “ ‘Shapshu Cries out in Heaven’:
Dealing with Snake-bites at Ugarit (KTU 1.100, 1.107),” RB 95
(1988) 481-518.
Liberati, A. M., and F. Bourbon. Rom: Weltreich der Antike, trans. R.
Kasten-huber. Erlangen: Karl Müller Verlag, 1997 [English
original: Ancient Rome]; see esp. pp. 24 [Medusa], 91 [gold
jewelry shaped like a serpent, from Pompeii], 109 [marble
Laocoon].
Liechtenhan, R. “Ophiten,” Realencyklopädie für protestantische
Theologie und Kirche [Dritte] 14 (1904) 404–13.
Lienhardt, G. Divinity and Experience: The Religion of the Dinka.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1961.
Lins, H. M. Tiere in der Mythologie und ihre religiöse Symbolkraft.
Frankfurt: R. G. Fischer, 1994 [2nd ed.].
Lipinski, E. “La légende sacrée de la conjurion des morsures de
serpents,” Ugarit- Forschungen 6 (1974) 169–74 [concerns the
bite of the serpent (nbs) in Table RS 24.244].
Lippold, G. “Heilend Schlange,” in Studies Presented to D. M.
Robinson. Saint Louis, 1951; pp. 648–54. N.V.
Lipsius, R. A. “Über die ophitischen System,” Zeitschrift für
 wissenschaftliche Theologie 6 (1863) 410–57.
Lloyd, S. The Archaeology of Mesopotamia: From the Old Stone Age
to the Persian Conquest. London: Thames and Hudson, 1978
[rev. ed. in 1984, 1985].
Lloyd-Russell, V. “The Serpent as the Prime Symbol of Immortality Has
Its Origin in the Semitic-Sumerian Culture.” PhD Dissertation,
University of Southern California, 1938.
Locher, G. W. The Serpent in Kwakiutl Religion. Leiden: Brill, 1932.
Loewenstamm, S. E. “The Muzzling of the Tannin in Ugaritic Myth,”
Israel Exploration Journal 19 (1959) 260–61.
Lonsdale, S. Animals and the Origins of Dance. London: Thames and
Hudson, 1981.
Lopez-Muniz, R. B. “St. Phokas in a Spell for Snakes,” Zeitschrift für
Papyrologie und Epigraphik 95 (1993) 28. [Saint Phokas, who
lived during the time of Trajan, is celebrated for curing those
bitten by a poisonous snake.]
Lorein, G. W. “Het Thema van de Antichrist in de Intertestamentaire
Periode.” PhD Dissertation, Rijksuniversiteit Groningen, 1997.
Loth, H. Vom Schlangenkult zur Christuskirche. Frankfurt: Fischer
Taschenbuch Verlag, 1987.
Loud, G., et al. eds. Megiddo, 2 vols. Chicago: Chicago Oriental
Institute, 19391948. [See vol. 2, Plate 240 which shows two
serpents from the second millenium BCE.]
Löwe, G., and H. A. Stoll. Lexikon der Antike: Griechenland und das
römische Weltreich. Wiesbaden: VMA-Verlag, 1997; see esp. pp.
22, 49, 132–33, 233–34, 298, and 327.
Luckert, K. W. Olmec Religion: A Key to Middle America and Beyond.
The Civilization of the American Indian Series. Norman:
University of Oklahoma Press, 1976.
Lum, P. Fabulous Beasts. New York: Pantheon, 1951.
Lurker, M. “Adler und Schlange,” Antaios 5 (1964) 344–52.
______. Lexikon der Götter und Symbole der alten Ägypter. Bern,
Munich: Scherz Verlag, 1974, reprinted 1987; see esp. p. 15
[Uto, the serpent god], pp. 45–46 [Apophis], pp. 63–64 [demons],
p. 118 [Harachte], and pp. 17677 [serpent].
______. Die Botschaft der Symbole: In Mythen, Kulturen und
Religionen. Munich: Kösel, 1990; see esp. pp. 179–91, “Adler
und Schlange als Pole des Seins.”
______, ed. Wörterbuch der Symbolik. Stuttgart: Alfred Kröner, 1991;
see esp. p. 54 [the Asclepius’ staff], p 122 [caduceus], and pp.
649–50 [the serpent].
______. Adler und Schlange: Tiersymbolik im Glauben und Weltbild
der Völker. Tübingen: Rainer Wunderlich Verlag Hermann Leins,
1983.
______. Götter und Symbole der alten Ägypter. Bern, Munich, Vienna:
Otto Wilhelm Barth, 1974.
______. Lexikon der Götter und Dämonen: Namen, Funktionen,
Symbole/ Attribute. Stuttgart: Kröner, 1984.
______. “Schlange,” in Lexikon der Götter und Symbole der alten
Ägypter. Bern, Munich: Scherz, 1987 [rev. ed]; pp. 176–77.
______. “Schlange,” in Wörterbuch biblischer Bilder und Symbole.
Munich: Kösel (1990) [4th ed.]; pp. 318–20.
______. Symbol Mythos und Legende in der Kunst. Studien zur
Deutschen Kunstgeschichte 314. Baden-Baden: Valentin
Koerner, 1984 [2nd ed.].
Macalister, R. A. S., and W. Dever. Gezer II. Jerusalem: Hebrew Union
College/ Nelson Glueck School of Biblical Archaeology, 1974. [A
serpent was found at Gezer; it apparently belongs to the LB
stratum; p. 399 and Fig. 488.]
MacCulloch, J. A. The Celtic and Scandinavian Religions. London:
Constable, c. 1948.
______. “Serpent-Worship: Introduction,” Encyclopaedia of Religion
and Ethics, ed. J. Hastings. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark and New
York: Charles Scrib-ner’s Sons, 1920 [1962]; vol. 11, pp. 399–
411.
MacKenzie, D. A. Egyptian Myth and Legend. New York: Bell, 1978.
Maggiani, A., ed. Artigianato artistico. Milan: Electa Editrice, 1985.
[Illus. 68 depicted on a funeral urn is a god killing a serpent
(second cent. BCE), Illus. 72 shows a demon with anguepedes on
a funeral urn (late second cent. BCE).]
Mähly, J. Die Schlange im Mythus und Cultus der classischen Völker.
 Der Naturforsch. Gesellschaft von Basel zur Feier ihres 50j
Bestehens gewidmet von der historischen Gesellschaft. Basel,
1867. N.V.
Malandra, W. W., ed. An Introduction to Ancient Religion: Readings
from the Avesta and the Achaemenid Inscriptions. Minnesota
Publications in the Humanities 2. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 1983.
Malinowski, B. Myth in Primitive Psychology. London: K. Paul, Trench,
Trubner and Co., 1926.
Maneschg, H. Die Erzählung von der ehernen Schlange (Num 21, 4–
9) in der Auslegung der frühen jüdischen Literatur: Eine
traditionsgeschichtliche Studie. Europäische Hochschulschriften
Reihe 23, Theologie 157. Frankfurt am Main: Peter D. Lang,
1981.
Mann, A. T., and J. Lyle. Sacred Sexuality. The Sacred Arts.
Shaftesbury, Dorset and Rockport, Mass.: Element, 1995.
Mann, J. Murder, Magic, and Medicine. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1992; see esp. p. 39.
Marchadour, A., ed. Origine et postérité de l’évangile de Jean.
Association Catholique Française pour l’Étude de la Bible, Lectio
Divina 143. Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1990.
Marcuzzi, L., and M. Zanette. Aqvileia. Aquileia: Società per la
Conservazione della Basilica di Aquileia, 1993; see esp. p. 20 [a
color photograph of the mosaic in which a large serpent-dragon
swallows Jonah], p. 22 [the demon spits him out], p. 24 [a stork
killing a snake above the depiction of Jesus as the Good
Shepherd].
Maringer, J. “Die Schlange in Kunst und Kult der vorgeschichtlichen
Menschen,” Anthropos 72 (1977) 881–913. [This is a study of
serpent images from the Paleolithic (at least 30,000 years before
the present) to the Iron ages.]
Markschies, C. Zwischen den Welten Wandern: Strukturen des antiken
Christentums. Frankfurt: Fischer Taschenbuch, 1997.
Marrs, R. “John 3.14–15: The Raised Serpent in the Wilderness: The
Johannine Use of an Old Testament Account.” Johannine
Studies, ed. J. E. Priest. Malibu, Calif.: Pepperdine University
Press, 1989; pp. 132–47.
Marshack, A. The Roots of Civilization: The Cognitive Beginnings of
Man’s First Art, Symbol and Notation. London: Weidenfeld and
Nicolson, 1972; see esp. Fig. 97 [a serpent from the Upper
Magdalenian], 100 [a serpent, also Upper Magdalenian], 109 [a
forked-tongued viper], 118 [a symbolic snake].
Martinek, M. Wie die Schlange zum Teufel Wurde: Die Symbolik in der
Paradiesgeschichte von der hebräischen Bibel bis zum Koran.
Studies in Oriental Religions 37. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz
Verlag, 1996.
Martinez, F. G. The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Texts in
English, trans. W. G. E. Watson. Leiden and New York: Brill, and
Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1996 [2nd ed.]; see esp. pp.
330–31.
Martyn, J. L. History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel. Nashville:
Abingdon, 1968 [2nd ed.].
Mathers, S. L. M. The Kabbalah Unveiled. London: Routledge and
Kegan Paul, 1926; reprint, London and New York: Arkana, 1991.
Matthäus, H. Der Arzt in römisher Zeit: Literarische Nachrichten—
archäologische Denkmäler, ed. by Ph. Filtzinger. Stuttgart:
Württembergischen Landesmuseums Stuttgart, 1987; see the 47
illustrations, of which many feature physicians and Asclepius with
serpents.
May, H. G. Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult. Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1935. [A serpent was found on a vase from a
tomb dating from MB or LB; see Plate 22 (P4327).]
______. “The Sacred Tree on Palestine Painted Pottery,” Journal of
the American Oriental Society 59 (1939) 251–59.
Mazar, B. “The Middle Bronze Age in Palestine,” Israel Exploration
Journal 18 (1968) 65–97.
Mazis, G. A. The Trickster, Magician and Grieving Man: Reconnecting
Men with Earth. Santa Fe, N.M.: Bear & Company, 1993.
Mbiti, J. African Religions and Philosophy. New York: Praeger, 1969.
McCasland, S. V. “The Asklepios Cult in Palestine,” Journal of Biblical
Literature 57 (1939) 221–27.
McConnel, U. “The Rainbow-Serpent in North Queensland,” Oceania 1
(1930) 347–48.
McCown, C. C. “The Goddess of Gerasa,” Annual of the American
Schools of Oriental Research 13 (1933) 129–66.
McCullough, W. S. “Serpent,” Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible 4.
Nashville: Abingdon, 1962; pp. 298–91.
McEwan, G. J. “dMuŝ and Related Matters,” Orientalia 52 (1983) 215–
29.
McGinn, B. The Foundations of Mysticism: Origins to the Fifth Century.
The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism,
vol. 1. New York: Crossroad, 1994.
McNally, S. “The Maenad in Early Greek Art,” in Women in the Ancient
World: The Arethusa Papers, ed. J. Peradotto and J. P. Sullivan.
Albany: State University of New York Press, 1984; pp. 107–41.
[Although not focused on the serpent, the study does present
images of maenads with serpents (see esp. Figs. 3, 8, and 10).]
McPhee, I, “Ladon,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae
6.1, pp. 176–80 [with bibliography]; see the photographs in LIMC
6.2, Plates 81–85.
Mead, G. R. S. Thrice-Greatest Hermes: Studies in Hellenistic
Theosophy and Gnosis, 3 vols. [This book was originally
published in 1904; a reset third impression appeared in London:
J. M. Watkins, 1964.]
Mecquenem, R. de “Inventaire de cachets et de cylindres,” Revue
d’Assyriologie et d’Archeologie Orientale 22 (1925) 1–13.
Medhi, B. K. “Snake Goddess Marai of the Pati Rabhas of Assam,”
Eastern Anthropologist 37 (1984) 159–64.
Meeks, W. A. The Prophet-King: Moses-Traditions and the Johannine
Christology. Novum Testamentum Supplements 14. Leiden: Brill,
1967.
Meier, C. A. Antike Inkubation und moderne Psychotherapie. Zürich:
Rascher Verlag, 1949.
______. “Asklepios,” The Encyclopedia of Religion. New York:
Macmillan and London: Collier/Macmillan, 1987; vol. 1, pp. 463–
66.
Meier, J. “A kaga oder der Schlangenaberglaube bei den
Eingeborenen der Blanche-bucht (Neupommern),” Anthropos 3
(1908) 1005–29.
Meier-Seethaler, C. Von der göttlichen Löwin zum Wahrzeichen
männlichere Macht: Ursprung und Wandel grosser Symbole.
Zürich: Kreuz, 1993.
Mercer, S. A. B. Horus: Royal God of Egypt. Grafton, Massachuttes:
Society of Oriental Research, 1942.
______. The Pyramid Texts in Translation and Commentary. New
York, London, and Toronto: Longmans, Green and Co., 1952;
see esp. vol. 1, pp. 188–89, 230–33, 235–39, 302–5, 318–19.
[the symbol of the serpent frequently conflates with a bull].
______. The Pyramid Texts in Translation and Commentary. New
York, London, and Toronto: Longmans, Green and Co., 1952;
see esp. vol. 2, pp. 712–13, 730–31, 950–53.
Merhav, R. “The Stele of the ‘Serpent Goddess’ from Tell Beit Mirsim
and the Plaque from Shechem Reconsidered,” Israel Museum
Journal 4 (1985) 2742. [Merhav correctly points out that
Albright’s suggestion (in BASOR 31 [1928]) that a stele found at
Tell Beit Mirsim shows a serpent coming out of the ground is
misleading.]
Merkelbach, R. “Drache,” in Reallex. für Antike und Christentum 4
(1959) 226-50.
______. Mithras: Ein persisch-römischer Mysterienkult. Wiesbaden:
Albus, 1998; see esp. p. 91, and Plates 18, 20, 22, 23, 24, 25,
37, 39, 40, 41, 42, 44, 45, 47, 50, 51, 52, 54, 65, 66, 70, 71, 73,
74, 77, 90, 91, 95, 116, 117, 143, 144, 146, 149, 152, 153, 157,
160, 161, 162, 164, and 169. Merloni, G. Saggi di Filologia
Semitica. Rome, 1913; see esp. pp. 234–36, “Una serpe azdita.”
Mertz, B. A. Dein archetypisches Tier. Munich: Ariston Verlag, 1997.
Meshel, Z. “Did Yahweh Have a Consort?” Biblical Archaeology
Review 5 (1979) 24–35.
Meshorer, Y. Ancient Jewish Coinage, Volume I: Persian Period
Through Has-monaeans. Dix Hills, N.Y.: Amphora Books, 1982.
______. Ancient Jewish Coinage, Volume II: Herod the Great Through
Bar Cochba. Dix Hills, N.Y.: Amphora Books, 1982.
Messadié, G. The History of the Devil, trans. M. Romano. London:
Newleaf, 1996. [The work was originally published in France in
slightly different form in 1993 as Histoire générale du Diable by
Editions Robert Laffront.]
Mettinger, T. N. D. “Seraphim,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the
Bible, ed. by K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der
Horst. Leiden and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1999 [2nd ed.]; pp. 742–44.
Meyer, M. W. The Ancient Mysteries: A Sourcebook. San Francisco:
Harper & Row, 1987.
Meyer, W. with H. and R. Bukor. 100x Archäologie. Vienna, Zürich:
Bibliographisches Institut Mannheim, 1983; see esp. pp. 5–6
[Laocoon], pp. 86–87 [Artemis temple in Ephesus], pp. 90–91
[Pergamon friese in East Berlin], p. 136 [Faience statute of a
“goddess” holding two serpents, from Knos-sos], pp. 142–43
[Asclepius and Hygieia], pp. 158–59 [Apollo with a serpent].
Meyers, C. Discovering Eve: Ancient Israelite Women in Context. New
York and London: Oxford University Press, 1988; see esp. pp.
90–93.
Michalowski, K. L’Art de l’ancienne Egypte. L’Art et les grandes
civilisations. Paris: Mazenrod, 1968.
Milburn, R. L. P. Early Christian Art and Architecture. Berkeley and Los
Angeles: University of California Press, 1988; reprinted in
Aldershot, England: Wildwood House, 1989.
Mildenberg, L., ed. The Abraham Bromberg Collection of Jewish
Coins, 2 parts. Zürich: Bank Leu Numistics, 1991–199; see esp.
vol. 1, pp. 12 [Herod the Great’s bronze coin with winged
caduceus], p 14 [Herod Archelaus’ bronze coin with caduceus];
vol. 2, p. 9 [Herod the Great’s bronze with winded caduceus
(superb example)].
Miles, M. R. “Adam and Eve and Augustine,” Christianity and Crisis 48
(1988) 347–49.
Milgrom, J. Numbers. The JPS Torah Commentary. Philadelphia and
New York: The Jewish Publication Society, 1990.
Miroschedji, P. de. “Le dieu Élamite au serpent et aux eaux
jaillissantes,” Iranica Antiqua 16 (1981) 1–25, 11 Plates.
Moberly, W. “Did the Serpent Get it Right?” Journal of Theological
Studies, N.S. 39 (1988) 1–27.
Moeller, W. O. The Mithraic Origin and Meanings of the Rotas-Sator
Square. Études préliminaires aux religions orientales dans
l’Empire Romain 38. Leiden: Brill, 1973.
Mohr, G. H. “Schlange,” Lexikon der Symbole. Düsseldorf and
Cologne: Eugen Diedrichs, 1971; pp. 255–57 [also the
introduction on pp. 9–16].
Moloney, F. J. The Johannine Son of Man. Rome: LAS, 1976.
Montet, P. “Le jeu du serpent,” Chronique d’Egypte 30 (1955) 189–97.
[An image of a serpent, when formed into a circle by winding it
from its head in the center to its tail on the circumference and
often with three lions and three lionesses, represents a game
played by Egyptians in antiquity.]
Montford, C.P. “The Rainbow-Serpent Myths of Australia,” in The
Rainbow Serpent, ed. I. R. Buchler and K. Maddock. Paris:
Mouton, 1978; pp. 23–97.
Montgomery, J.A. Aramaic Incantation Texts from Nippur. Philadelphia:
University Museum, 1913.
______. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Books of Kings.
The International Critical Commentary. Edinburgh: T & T Clark,
1951; see esp. pp. 500–01.
______. “A Magical Bowl Text and the Original Script of the
Manicheans,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 32 (1912)
43–48.
______. “Some Early Amulets from Palestine,” Journal of the
American Oriental Society 31 (1911) 272–81.
Moor, J. C. de. “East of Eden,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 100 (1988) 105–11.
Mosheim, J. Geschichte der Schlangenbrüder. 1746. N.V.
Muehly, J. Die Schlange im Mythus und Cultus der klassischen Völker.
1867. N.V.
Müller, U. B. Die Geschichte der Christologie in der johanneischen
Gemeinde. Stuttgarter Bibelstudien 77. Stuttgart: KBW Verlag,
1975.
Müller-Karpe, H. Geschichte der Steinzeit. Augsburg: Bechtermünz
Verlag, 1998. [The author claims that the serpent image appears
in Egypt around 3000 BCE(Plate 14). We have seen that serpent
iconography is present in the Neolithic Age or from 8000 to 3000
BCE(Plates 20 and 21). B. Mundkur shows cobras that date from
about 13,000 BCE. One should also see B. Johnson, who, in Lady
of the Beasts, argues for a serpent image from La Baume-
 Latrone that is 40,000–26,000 BCE, and esp. Gedion, who
supplies the scientific data for the serpent art.]
Mundkur, B. The Cult of the Serpent: An Interdisciplinary Survey of Its
Manifestations and Origins. Albany: State University of New York
Press, 1983; see esp. p. 17 [three undulating “cobras” etched on
a Mammoth tooth, c. 13,000 BCE].
______. “The Cult of the Serpent in the Americas: Its Asian
Background,” Current Anthropology 17 (1987) 429–55.
Murison, R. G. “The Serpent in the Old Testament,” American Journal
of Semitic Languages and Literatures 21 (1905) 115–30.
Murray, A. S. Who’s Who in Mythology: A Classic Guide to the Ancient
World. New York and Avenel, N.J.: Wings Books, 1989 [2nd ed.;
originally published as Manual of Mythology (n.c.: n.p., 1874)].
Nebehay, C. M. Wien: Speziell, Architektur und Malerei um 1900.
Vienna: Verlag Christian Brandstätter, 1983. [See esp. p. which
presents a painting by Gustav Klimt (1899) entitled Nuda veritas.
It depicts a nude woman with red hair and with a serpent around
her feet. Also see p. 1/12, which is a depiction by Gustav Klimt
(1931) of Hygieia with a large serpent curled around her right
arm and drinking out of a bowl in her left hand.]
Nelson, J. B., and S. P. Longfellow, eds. Sexuality and the Sacred:
Sources for Theological Reflection. Louisville: Westminster/John
Knox Press, 1994.
Nestle, E. “Generation of Vipers,” Expository Times 23 (1911–1912)
185. [John the Baptizer and Jesus use the expression
“generation of vipers” to denote that the ones targeted “are not
ordinary serpents, but venomous vipers.”]
______. “Otterngezüchte,” Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche
Wissenschaft 14 (1913) 267–68. [The Greek noun, echidnön,
used by John the Baptizer and Jesus echoes the LXX of Isa
11:8; it denotes semen serpentis inimicum or semini muleris, and
evil vipers; see the publication by U. Treu.]
Nettleship, A. “The Problem of Symbolism in Medicine, Primitive and
Greek Era Symbols in Relationship to Modern Scientific
Medicine,” Bull. Sign. Hist. Sci. Tech. 17 (1963) 513–15.
Neumann, E. The Great Mother: An Analysis of the Archetype.
Bollinger Foundation Series 47. New York: Pantheon Books,
 1955.
Neusner, J. The Ecology of Religion: From Writing to Religion in the
Study of Judaism. Nashville: Abingdon, 1989.
Newberry, P. E. “A Statue and a Scarab,” Journal of Egyptian
Archaeology 19 (1933) 53–54, Plate X.
Ninck, M. Die Bedeutung des Wassers in Kult und Leben der Alten:
Eine symbolgeschichtliche Untersuchung. Philologus,
Supplementband XIV, Heft 11. Leipzig: Dietrich, 1921.
Nissenson, M., and S. Jonas. Snake Charm. New York: Harry N.
Abrams, 1995. [This book is full of illustrations of the snake and
the discussion is focused.]
Niwinski, A. “The 21st Dynasty Religious Iconography Project
Exemplified by the Scene with Three Deities Standing on a
Serpent,” Akten des Vierten Internationalen Ägyptologen
Kongresses München 1985, ed. S. Schoske. Studien zur
Altägyptischen Kultur Beihefte 3; Hamburg, 1989; pp. 305–14.
Nock, A. D. “Religious Symbols and Symbolism II,” Arthur Darby Nock:
Essays on Religion and the Ancient World, ed. Z. Stewart.
Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972; pp. 895–907.
______. “Two Notes,” Vigilae Christianae 3 (1949) 48–56.
Noth, M. Die Welt des Alten Testaments. Berlin: A. Topelmann, 1962.
Nougayrol, J. Cylindres-Sceaux et empreintes de cylindres trouvés en
Palestine au cours de fouilles regulières. Bibliothèque
Archéologique et Historique 33. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1939.
Nowak, V., trans. Der Schlangenknabe: Georgische Volksmärchen.
Moscow, 1977.
Nunn, J. F. Ancient Egyptian Medicine. London: British Museum Press,
1996.
Ogdon, J. R. “Studies in Ancient Egyptian Magical Thought IV: An
Analysis of the ‘Technical’ Language in the Anti-Snake Magical
Spells of the Pyramid Texts,” Discussions in Egyptology 13
(1989) 59–71.
Oldham, C. F. Ophiolatreia. Privately printed, 1889.
______. The Sun and Serpent: A Contribution to the History of
Serpent-Worship. London: Archibald Constable & Co., Ltd.,
1905.
Oliver, J. A. Snakes in Fact and Fiction. New York: Macmillan, 1958.
Olson, D. T. Numbers. Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for
Teaching and Preaching. Louisville, Ky.: John Knox Press, 1996;
see esp. pp. 135–38.
Osing, J. “Sprüche gegen die … Schlange,” Mitteilungen des
Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts Abteilung Kairo 43 (1987)
205–10.
Osten, H. Henning von der. Die Welt der Perser. Grosse Kulturen der
Frühzeit. Stuttgart: Gustav Kilpper Verlag, 1956. [See Plate 29,
which shows a bronze idol, like the one in the JHC Collection
(Fig. 16 in the present book), but here the demon holds the two
serpents by the throat; from Luristan (p. 276).]
Otto, W. F. Die Götter Griechlands: Das Bild des Göttlichen im Spiegel
des griechischen Geistes. Frankfort: G. Schulte-Bulmke, 1929.
Page, S. H. T. Powers of Evil: A Biblical Study of Satan and Demons.
Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1995.
Pagels, E. Adam, Eve, and the Serpent. New York: Random House,
1988; paperback New York: Vintage Books (1989).
______. “Adam and Eve and the Serpent in Genesis 1–3,” Images of
the Feminine in Gnosticism, ed. K. L. King. Philadelphia: Fortress
Press, 1988; pp. 412–23.
______. Satan in the New Testament Gospels. The Loy H.
Witherspoon Lectures in Religious Studies at the University of
North Carolina, Charlotte. Charlotte: University of North Carolina,
Charlotte, 1994.
Pailler, J. M. “La vierge et le serpent,” Mélanges de l’École Française
de Rome: Antiquité 109 (1997) 513–75.
Pancaro, S. The Law in the Fourth Gospel. Novum Testament
Supplements 42. Leiden: Brill, 1975; see esp. p. 333.
Paper, J. “The Meaning of the ‘T’ao-T’ieh,” History of Religion 18
(1978) 18–37.
Parâssoglou, G. M. “A Christian Amulet Against Snakebite,” Studia
Papyrologica 13 (1974) 107–10 [P. Yale Inv. 1792].
Pardee, D. “Philological and Prosodic Analysis of the Ugaritic Serpent
Incantation UT 607,” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society
of Columbia University 10 (1978) 73–108.
Paribeni, E. “Harmonia,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae 4.1, pp. 412–14 [bibliography]; see the photographs in
LIMC 4.2, Plates 238–40.
______. “Harmatidas,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae 4.1, pp. 412–14 [bibliography]; see the photographs in
LIMC 4.2, Plates 163–87.
Parrinder, G. African Mythology. New York: P. Bedrick Books, 1986
[rev. ed.]; see esp. pp. 56–65.
______. The Hebrew Goddess. New York: KTAV, 1967.
Patai, R. “The Goddess Asherah,” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 24
(1965) 37–52.
Patte, D. Early Jewish Hermeneutic in Palestine. Society of Biblical
Literature Dissertation Series 22. Missoula, Montana: Scholars
Press, 1975; see esp. pp. 218ff.
Paul-Stengel, C. Schlangenspuren: Reptilen und ihre Bedeutung in der
Kulturgeschichte. Königstein/Taunus: Ulrike Helmer Verlag,
1996; see the following Illus.: p. 21 [a serpent on a cross], p. 22
[Hermes], p. 48 [Moses with the upraised serpent], p. 132
[Aborigine serpent], p. 157 [expulsion from Eden], p. 177 [a
woman’s face and breasts, with a serpent’s body].
Pederson, J. “Wisdom and Immortality,” Wisdom in Israel and in the
Ancient Near East, ed. M. Noth and D. W. Thomas. Supplements
to Vetus Testa-mentum 3. Leiden: Brill, 1960; pp. 238–46.
Pelton, R. W., and K. W. Carden. Snake Handlers: God-Fearers or
Fanatics? New York and Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1974. [See
the book by W. La Barre.]
Perrot, A. “L’homme aux serpents,” Syria 28 (1951) 57–61.
Perrot, N. La représentation de l’arbre sacré sur les monuments de
Mésopotamie et d’Elam. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1937.
Peters, H. von Stokar, “Zur Herkunft des Äskulapstabes,”
Therapeutische Berichte 16 (1939) 57–60.
Petrie, F. Ancient Gaza I. Jerusalem: British School of Archeology,
1931. [More than two vessels with serpents were discovered
from the MB stratum; see Plate 35 and pp. 9–10, 112–13.]
Philastrius. Diversarum Herseon Liber. Corpus Christianorum Series
Latina 9. Turnholt: Typographi Brepolis Editores Pontificii, 1957.
Phillips, E. A. “Serpent Intertexts: Tantalizing Twists in the Tales,”
Bulletin for Biblical Research 10 (2000) 233–45.
Philo. De Agricultura, in Philo 3, trans. F. H. Colson and G. H.
Whitaker. Loeb Classical Library. London: William Heinemann
and New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1930; see esp. pp. 156–65.
Philpott, J. H. The Sacred Tree, or the Tree in Religion and Myth. New
York: Macmillan, 1897; see esp. pp. 15–23. [The perennial tree,
like the serpent, renews itself each year, thus symbolizing
rebirth.]
Piankoff, A., trans. Mythological Papyri. 2 vols., ed. N. Rambova.
Bollingen Series 15, 3, Parts 1/2. New York: Pantheon Books,
1957.
Piccione, P. A. “Mehen, Mysteries, and Resurrection from the Coiled
Serpent,” Journal of the American Center in Egypt 27 (1990) 43–
52. [The mbn game was a means of transformation to rebirth.]
Picot, J.-P. “Genèse et récits contemporains de contre-utopie: Eve et
le serpent,” in La Bible: Images, Mythes et Traditions. Cahiers de
l’Hermétisme. Paris: Albin Michel, 1995; pp. 45–60.
Piddington, R. “The Water-Serpent in Karadjeri Mythology,” Oceania 1
(1930) 352–76.
Pietschmann, R. “Asklepios,” Pauly-Wissowa 4 (Stuttgart: J. B.
Metzlersche, 1896) cols. 1642–69.
Piggot, J. Japanese Mythology. London, 1969.
Pinney, R. The Animals in the Bible. Philadelphia, New York: Chilton
Books, 1964; see esp. pp. 17–18, 173–76.
Piperov, P. “Die Symbolik der Schlange bei den biblischen
Schriftstellern,” Jb. der geistlichen Akademie 32 (Sofia, 1957)
369–90.
Plantinga, C. Jr. “Christ, the Snake,” Perspectives 6 (1991) 14–15.
Pleyte, C. M. “Die Schlange im Volksglauben der Indonesier,”
Globus 65 (1894) 95–100.
Poignant, R. Oceanic Mythology: The Myths of Polynesia, Micronesia,
Melanesia, Australia. London: Hamlyn, 1967.
Pope, M. “The Scene on the Drinking Mug from Ugarit,” in Near
Eastern Studies in Honor of William Foxwell Albright, ed. H.
Goedicke. Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins Press, 1971;
 pp. 393–405.
Popham, M. R. “ ‘Snakes and Ladders’ at Knossos: The Shifting Late
Minoan Stratigraphy,” Kadmos 13 (1974) 11–23.
Porada, E. Corpus of Ancient Near Eastern Seals in North American
Collections. Vol. 1. The Collection of the Pierpont Morgan
Library. New York: Pantheon Books, 1948.
______. “A Man with Serpents,” in Von Uruk nach Tuttul [Festschrift E.
Strommenger], ed. B. Hrouda et al. Munich and Vienna, 1992;
pp. 171–75 and Plates 72–78. [In the Cincinnati Art Museum is a
figure of a nude man with two fish hanging from a neck ring that
fits below his beard. His arms are bound by four snakes that
come from behind him; two snakes curl to face his beard and the
heads of two more appear above his waist.]
Potter, E. S. Serpents in Symbolism, Art and Medicine. Santa Barbara,
Calif., 1937.
Pottier, E. L’art Hittite, 2 vols. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1926–1931.
______. “Draco,” Dictionnaire des antiquités grecques et romaines
d’après les textes et les monuments. Paris: Librairie Hachette et
CIE, 1892; vol. 2.1, pp. 403–14.
______. Man and Images in the Ancient Near East. The Frick
Collection: Anshen Transdisciplinary Lectureships in Art,
Science, and the Philosophy of Culture, Monograph 4. Wakefield,
R.I., and London: Moyer Bell, 1995; see esp. pp. 39–46, 63.
Preston, P. Metzler Lexikon Antiker Bildmotive, trans. S. Bogutovac
and K. Brodersen. Stuttgart: Weimer, 1997 [English original
appeared in 1983]; see esp. pp. 165–69.
Price, I. M. The Great Cylinder Inscriptions A and B of Gudea. Leipzig:
J. C. Hinrichs, 1899 [King Gudea of Lagash linked the bull with
the serpent and represented them at the portal of a temple; see
Cylinder A, col. 26, lines 24–25.]
Prigent, P. L’image dans le Judaisme du IIeau VIeSiècles. Le monde de
la bible 24. Geneva: Labors et Fides, 1991.
Pritchard, J. B. Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old
Testament. Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1950.
[For an image of a serpent related to worshipping Nabu, see p.
331.]
______. The Ancient Near East in Pictures Relating to the Old
Testament. Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1954.
[For LB and Iron I depictions of a goddess holding serpents; see
nos. 470–74.]
______. The Bronze Age Cemetery at Gibeon. Philadelphia: University
of Pennsylvania, 1963. [Jugs with serpents were found in the
Hyksos stratum.]
______. Palestinian Figurines in Relation to Certain Goddesses
Known Through Literature. New Haven: American Oriental
Society, 1943.
Probatake, Th. M. . Thessaloniki: n.p.,
1980; see esp. pp. 131–67, 306–25 [original English = The Devil
in Byzantine Imagination. Thessalonika, 1980; see esp. pp. 131-
67].
Provera, M. “Il tema e culto del serpente nella tradizione biblica e
profana,” Bibbia e Oriente 166 (1990) 209–214. [In Jn 3:14 the
serpent symbolism is positive (p. 213). Ophiolatria is the most
ancient, widespread, and important of human traditions (p. 214).]
Prury, A. de. Homme et animal dieu les créa: Les animaux et l’ancien
testament. Genève: Labors et Fides, 1993.
Quinones, R. J. The Changes of Cain: Violence and the Lost Brother
in Cain and Abel Literature. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1991.
Radbill, S. X. “The Symbolism of the Staff of Aesculapius as Illustrated
by Medical Bookplates,” Journal of the Albert Einstein Medical
Center 10 (1962) 108–19.
Radcliffe-Brown, A. R. “The Rainbow Serpent Myth in South-East
Australia,” Oceania 1 (1930) 342–46.
Rawlinson, A. “Nàgas and the Magical Cosmology of Buddhism,”
Religion 16 (1986) 135–53.
Rèau, L. Iconographie de l’art chrétien. Paris: Presses Universitaires
de France, 1958.
Reeve, M. D. “A Rejuvenated Snake,” Acta Antiqua: Academiae
Scientiarum Hungaricae 37 (1996/1997) 245–58.
Reichel-Dolmatoff, G. Amazonian Cosmos: The Sexual and Religious
Symbolism of the Tukano Indians, trans. G. Reichel-Dolmatoff.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971.
Reifenberg, A. Ancient Hebrew Seals. London: East and West Library,
1950.
Reinach, S. “Divinités Gauloises au Serpent,” Revue Archéologique 65
(1911) 221–56.
______. “Le Serpent et la Femme,” L’Anthropologie 16 (1905) 178–80.
[Reinach’s “new” exegesis of Genesis 3 is to perceive the
miseries of menstruation and childbirth on the daughters of Eve
by pointing out that in Iran menstruation is deemed to be caused
by demons, esp. Angra Manyu, who is symbolized by the
serpent.]
______. “Zagreus, le serpent cornu,” Revue Archéologique 3rd Ser. 35
(1899) 210–17. [At the heart of Orphism is the birth, death, and
resurrection of Zagreus who appears inconographically as a
serpent with a small crown.]
Reitzenstein, R. Poimandres. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1904; see esp.
pp. 81–101 [for Ophites].
Rengstorf, K. H. Die Anfänge der Auseinandersetzung zwischen
Christusglaube und Asklepiosfrömigkeit. Münster: Verlag
Aschendorff, 1953.
Renker, G. Verkanntes Schlangenvolk. Hameln and Hannover:
Sponholz Verlag, 1966.
Renz, B. “Die kluge Schlange,” Biblische Zeitschrift 24 (1938/39) 236–
41.
______. Der orientalische Schlangendrache: Ein Beitrag zum
Verständnis der Schlange im biblischen Paradies. Augsburg,
1930.
______. “Schlange und Baum als Sexualsymbole in der Völkerkunde,”
Archiv für Sexualforschung 1 (1915–1916) 341ff. [Renz interprets
the serpent as a phallic symbol.]
Richards, L. O. The Revell Concise Bible Dictionary. Tarrytown, N.Y.:
Fleming R. Revell Co., 1990.
Richardson, P. “Religion, Architecture, and Ethics: Some First Century
Case Studies,” Horizons in Biblical Theology 10 (1988) 19–49;
see esp. pp. 2729 on the Asclepian cult.
Richter, W. “Schlange,” Der Kleine Pauly 5 (1975) 12–17.
Ridgway, B. S. “The Plataian Tripod and the Serpent Columns,”
 American Journal of Archaeology 81 (1977) 374–79.
Riley, G. J. “Demon,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible,
ed. K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst.
Leiden and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999
[2nd ed.]; pp. 235–40.
Rinaldi, G. “Serpente di Bronzo,” Enciclopedia Cattolica. Vatican: Libro
Cattolico, 1953; vol. 11, cols. 394–95.
Ringgren, H. “Handskrifterna frân Qumran,” Symbolae Biblicae
Upsalienses 15 (1956) 41ff.
______. Israelite Religion, trans. D. Green. Philadelphia: Fortress,
1966. [Ringgren argues that the serpent of Genesis 3 is to be
identified with either El, the supreme god in the Ugaritic
pantheon, or Baal, the god of lightning and storms.]
Ritter, H. Die Schlange in der Religion der Melanesier. Acta Tropica
Suppl. 3. Basel, 1945; see esp. pp. 26–27, 65–68, 73–74.
Rivett-Carnac, J. R. “The Snake Symbol in India, Especially in
Connection with the Worship of Siva,” Journal of the
Anthropological Society of Bombay 1 (1879) 17ff.
Rivinus, T. A. Sive serpens iste antiquus seductor è Gen. seqq. ad
mentem doctorum Judaeorum & Christianorum dissertatione
inaugurali exhibi-tus. Leipzig, 1686.
Robert, M. L. “Dans une maison d’Éphèse: Un serpent et un chiffre,”
Académie des Inscriptions & Belles-Lettres: Comptes Rendus
(1982) 126–32.
______. “Le serpent Glycon d’Abônouteichos à Athènes et Artémis
d’Éphèse à Rome,” Académie des Inscriptions & Belles-Lettres:
Comptes Rendus (1981) 513–35.
Roberts, M. J. Mythologie der Wikinger. Kettweg: Athenaion Verlag,
1997; for the serpent, see pp. 24, 45, 51, 56–57 [Jormungand,
the serpent, swallowing his tail like Aion], 95, 99, 100, 104
[Jormungand again].
Robinson, E. The Language of Mystery. London: SCM Press, 1987
and Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1987.
Robinson, H. W. “Council of Yahweh,” Journal of Theological Studies
45 (1944) 151–57.
Rock, J. F. The Na-khi Nâga Cult and Related Ceremonies. Series
 Orientale Roma 4/1.2. Rome: Is. M. E. O., 1952.
Roe, P. G. “Of Rainbow Dragons and the Origin of Designs: The
Waiwal and Shipibo Ronin Ehua,” Latin American Indian
Literatures Journal 5 (1989) 1–67.
Röhrich, L. “Die Sagen vom Schlangenbaum,” Sage und Märchen.
Freiburg: Herder, 1976; pp. 195–209.
______. “Die Sagen vom Schlangenbaum” Festschrift für Kurt Ranke.
Göttingen, 1968; pp. 327–44.
______. “Schlange,” Lexikon der sprichwörtlichen Redensarten.
Freiburg, Vienna: Herder, 1973; vol. 3, pp. 849–50.
Roitman, A. “Crawl upon your belly’ (Gen 3.14): The Physical Aspect
of the Serpent in Early Jewish Exegesis,” Tarbiz 64 (1994) 157–
82 [Hebrew; serpents with legs; see the many illustrations].
Römer, W. H. Ph., “Miscellanea Sumerologica IIIa: Eine Beschwörung
in sumerischer Sprache gegen die Folgen von Schlangend
Hundebiß, sowie Skorpionenstich,” Vom Alten Orient zum Alten
Testament [Festschrift W. F. von Soden], ed. M. Dietrich and O.
Loretz. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 240. Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Butzon & Bercker Kevelaer, 1995; pp. 413–23.
Ronecker, J. P. Le symbolisme animal: Mythes, croyances, légendes,
archétypes, folklore, imaginaire … St-Jean-de-Braye: Editions
Dangles, 1994.
Roquefeuil, S. De. “Le serpent d’Asclépios-Esculape,” Le bestiaire, ed.
P. Dehaye et al. Paris, 1974.
Ross, A. Pagan Celtic Britain. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, Ltd.,
1967.
Rothenberg, B. Timna. London: Thames and Hudson, 1972.
Rouse, W. H. D. Gods, Heroes, and Men of Ancient Greece:
Mythology’s Great Tales of Valor and Romance. New York and
Scarborough, Ontario: Mentor, 1957.
Rousselle, E. “Drachen und Stute-Gestalten der mythischen Welt,”
Eranos-Jahrbuch 1934. Zürich: Rhein-Verlag, 1935; pp. 11–33.
Rowe, A. A Catalogue of Egyptian Scarabs, Scaraboids, Seals and
Amulets in the Palestine Archaeological Museum. Cairo, 1936.
______. The Four Canaanite Temples of Beth-shan. Part I: The
Temples and Cult Objects. Philadelphia: University of
 Pennsylvania Press, 1940. [A serpent with breasts was found in
an LB stratum; see Plate 42A:2.]
______. “Note on Serpent-cult at Palestine,” Palestine Exploration
Fund Quarterly Statement 61 (1928) 110. [Rowe argued that
what has been seen as “two small rude bird figures” on a vessel
from the “High Place” at Tell esSäfi are “figures of serpents in
uraeus-form.” He offered the opinion that the two serpents may
represent Nekhebit and Wadjet.]
Rowley, H. H. “Zadok and Nehushtan,” Journal of Biblical Literature 58
(1939) 113–42.
Ruckstuhl, E. “Abstieg und Erhöhung des johanneischen
Menschensohns,” in Jesus im Horizont der Evangelien, ed. E.
Ruckstuhl. SBAB 3. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1933; pp.
277–310.
Rudolf, W. “Um die historische Existenz Aeskulaps,” Mediz. Klin. 11
(1960) 442ff.
Rudwin, M. The Devil in Legend and Literature. La Salle, 1ll.: The
Open Court Publishing Company, 1931.
Ruppert, L. “Die Sündenfallerzählung (Gn 3) in vorjahwistischer
Tradition und Interpretation,” Biblische Zeitschrift (1971) 185–
202.
Russell, J. B. The Devil: Perceptions of Evil from Antiquity to Primitive
Christianity. Ithaca, N.Y. and London: Cornell University Press,
1977.
______. Lucifer: The Devil in the Middle Ages. Ithaca, N.Y., and
London: Cornell University Press, 1984.
______. The Prince of Darkness: Radical Evil and the Power of Good
in History. Ithaca, N.Y. and London: Cornell University Press,
1988.
______. Satan: The Early Christian Tradition. Ithaca, N.Y., and
London: Cornell University Press, 1981.
Rüttimann, R. J. Asclepius and Jesus: The Form, Character and
Status of the Asclepius Cult in the Second Century CE and its
Influence on Early Christianity. Harvard Divinity School, ThD,
1986.
Saladino, V. Belser Kunstbibliothek: Die Meisterwerke aus den Offizien
in Florenz, Antike Skulpturen, trans. C. Galliani. Florence: Arte e
 Pensiero, 1983; see esp. “Persephone-Sarkphag” on pp. 38–39,
“Asklepius” on pp. 52–53, and “Herakles als Schlangentöter” on
pp. 76–77. [See the photograph (p. 39) of a sarcophagus of
Persephone showing, in high relief, two raised serpents (without
wings) pulling a chariot. Hades (Pluto) holds the dead
Persephone (Proserpina). The marble work dates from the
second century CE. It is in the Collection of Michelozzi. Also see
the photograph (p. 53) of Asclepius holding in his right arm a
staff with an entwined serpent. The white marble stature is a
Roman copy that is based on a Greek original of c. 370 BCE. It is
in the Villa Medici in Rome. Finally, note the depiction of
Hercules, as a child, fighting a serpent (p. 77). The art work, now
in the Tribuna of Uffizien, is an Italian marble based on a Greek
original of the third century BCE.]
Sälzle, K. Tier und Mensch, Gottheit und Dämon: Das Tier in der
Geistesgeschichte der Menschheit. Munich: Bayerischer
Landwirtschaftsverlag, 1965. [This massive book is full of
important data and insight; see esp. pp. 258–68.]
Samonà, G. A. Il sole, la terra, il serpente: Antichi miti di morte,
interpretazioni moderne e problemi di comparazione storico-
religiosa. Chi Siamo 21. Rome: Bulzoni Editore, 1991.
Sandars, N. K. The Epic of Gilgamesh: An English Version with an
Introduction. Baltimore, Md.: Penguin, 1960.
Sander, F. Hoch und Heilig: Kosmische Symbole und ihre Deutung.
KönigsburgStein: Verlag Hans Schöner, 1993; see pp. 88–89,
100, 181, 190–91, 204, 211, and 239.
Sarna, N. “The Chirotonic Motif on the Lachish Altar,” in Investigations
at La-chish: The Sanctuary and the Residency (Lachish V), ed.
Y. Aharoni. Tel Aviv: Gateway Publishing, Inc., 1975.
______. Understanding Genesis: The Heritage of Biblical Israel. New
York: The Melton Research Center of the Jewish Theological
Seminary of America, 1966 [paperback, New York: Schocken
Books, 1970].
Sas-Zaloziecky, W. Die altchristliche Kunst. Ullstein Kunstgeschichte
7. WestBerlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1963; see esp. the depictions of
the serpent in Eden on sarcophagi (Illus. 10, 11) and on the
ceiling of a catacomb (Illus. 16).
Sauer, G. Traumbild Schlange: Von der Vereinigung der Gegensätze
 … Träume als Wegweiser. Freiburg: Walter Verlag, 1992 [3rd
ed.]; see esp. the Illus. on p. 10 [a diptych with Asklepios and
Hygieia, God creating Adam with the serpent encircled around
Adam (by Blake)], and p. 77 [Pesttaler showing the crucifixion on
one side and Moses’ raised serpent on the other].
Sauerländer, W. Die Skulptur des Mittelalters. Ullstein Kunstgeschichte
11. West Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1963; see esp. color photograph
No. 4 [bishop’s miter in the form of a serpent) and Illus. 5 (the
dragon-like serpent, with arms, in Eden].
Sauneron, S. Un traité Égyptien d’ophiologie. Bibliothèque générale
11. Cairo: Publication de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie
Orientale, 1989 [a study of Pap. Brooklyn Museum, Nos.
47.218.48 and 47.218.85].
______. Le Papyrus magique illustré de Brooklyn [Brooklyn Museum
47.218.156]. Wilbour Monographs 3. Oxford, New York: Brooklyn
Museum, 1970.
Sauren, H. Der Genius der Sonne und der Stab des Asklepios.
Leuven: Peeters, 1979.
Sawyer, J. F. A. “The Image of God, the Wisdom of Serpents, and the
Knowledge of Good and Evil,” in A Walk in the Garden: Biblical,
Iconographical and Literary Images of Eden, ed. P. Morris and D.
Sawyer. JSOTS 136; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1992;
pp. 64–73.
Sayce, A. H. “The Serpent in Genesis,” Expository Times 20 (1909)
562 [Sayce claims “that the serpent in Genesis is a symbol of the
Babylonian god Ea.” More recently, the tendency is to look to
Canaan for the source of the symbolism in Genesis.]
______. “Serpent Worship in Ancient and Modern Egypt.”
Contemporary Review (October 1893). N.V.
Schadewaldt, H. “Asklepios und Christus,” Medizinische Welt (1967)
1755–61.
______. “Symbole in Medizin und Pharmazie,” Deutsche Apotheker-
Zeitung (1961) 1161–68.
______. “Was hat die Schlange Asklepios mit ihm und seiner Funktion
als Heilgott zu tun?” Asklepios 3 (1955) 86.
Schaefer, E. H. The Divine Woman: Dragon Ladies and Rain Maidens.
San Francisco: North Point Press, 1980.
______. “Les fouilles de Ras-Shamra-Ugarit, quinzième campagne
(printemps 1937),” Syria 19 (1938) 193–255. [A serpent allegedly
seeking water was found in a tomb in the MB stratum (was the
serpent shown guarding water and the area?).]
Schaeffer, C. F. A. Beschwörungsformel, gegen Schlangenbisse: Neue
Entdeckungen in Ugarit. Archiv für Orientforschung 20. (1963).
N.V.
Schechter, H. The Bosom Serpent: Folklore and Popular Art. Iowa
City: University of Iowa Press, 1988.
Schimmel, A. “Schlange,” Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart
[Dritte], ed. H. F. v. Campenhausen et al. Tübingen: Mohr
(Siebeck), 1961; vol. 5, col. 1419–20.
Schirmann, J. “The Battle Between Behemoth and Leviathan
According to an Ancient Hebrew Piyyut,” Proceedings of the
Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities 4.13 (1970) 327–69.
Schlatter, D. A. Der Evangelist Johannes: Wie er Spricht, Denkt und
Glaubt. Stuttgart: Calwer, 1930; see esp. pp. 95–97.
Schlüter, M. Derägön und Götzendienst: Studien zur antiken judischen
Religionsgeschichte. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 1982.
Schmerber, H. Die Schlange des Paradieses. Religionsgeschichtlich-
kunsthistorische Studie. Strassburg: Heitz, 1905.
Schmidt, K. P., and R. F. Inger. Knaurs Tierreich in Farben: Reptilien.
Munich, Zürich, 1970.
Schmidt, M. Der Basler Medeasarkophag. Monumenta Artis Antiquae
3. Tübingen: Verlag Ernst Wasmuth, 1997. [Plate 58 depicts a
cult vase from Lakisch with the symbol of the god Ningischzida,
holding an upraised staff before which is an upraised and elegant
serpent (p. 64). Plate 83 shows a stele of Tukultininurtas II from
Terqa with the god holding up a serpent.]
Schmökel, H. Ur, Assur und Babylon: Drei Jahrtausende im
Zweistromland. Grosse Kulturen der Frühzeit. Stuttgart: Gustav
Kilpper Verlag, 1955.
Schnackenburg, R. “Die ‘situationsgelösten’ Redestücke in Joh 3,”
Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft 49 (1958) 88–
99.
Schnalke, T. with C. Selheim. Asklepios: Heilgott und Heilkult.
 Erlangen-Nürnberg: Instituts für Geschichte der Medizin der
Friedrich-Alexander-Universität, 1990.
Schneemann, G., and J. Heller, “Feuerschlangen in Num 21, 4–9,”
Communio Viatorum 20 (1977) 251–58.
Schneemelcher, W.-P., “Zur Gestalt der Eva in der Gnosis, in Hairesis
[Festschrift K. Hoheisel]. Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum
Ergänzungsband 34. Münster: Aschendorff, 2002; pp. 48–63.
Schoebel, G. Le mythe de la femme et du serpent. Paris, 1876. N.V.
Schouten, J. The Rod and Serpent of Asklepios, Symbol of Medicine.
Amsterdam, New York, 1967.
______. De Slangestaf van Asklepios als Symbool van de
Geneeskunde. Utrecht: Schotnus & Jens, 1963.
Schouten van der Velden, A. “Palästina Viper,” Tierwelt der Bibel.
Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1992; pp. 150–51, with a
color photograph.
Schramm, A. “Ophites,” in Paulys Realencyclopädie der classischen
Altertumswissenschaft, 35. Stuttgart: J. C. Mezlersche, 1939;
cols. 658–59.
Schuchhardt, W.-H. Griechische Kunst. Ullstein Kunstgeschichte 5.
West-Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1964; see esp. Fig. 3 [Hercules with
hydra], colored photograph 3 [raised cobras], Illus. 13 [gorgon
with two serpents entwined as a belt], Illus. 64–66 [Pergamon
friese], and Illus. 76 [Laocoon].
Schulmann, D. “The Serpent and the Sacrifice: An Anthill Myth from
Tiruvärur,” History of Religion 18 (1978) 107–37.
Schulz, R., and K. Sabri Kolta, “Schlangen, Skorpione und feindliche
Mächte: Ein koptisch-arabische Schutzspruch,” Biblische Notizen
93 (1998) 89–104.
Schulz, R., and M. Seidel, eds. Ägypten: Die Welt der Pharaonen.
Cologne: Köne-mann Verlagsgesellschaft, 1997; see esp. p. 221
[the sun god in a bark pulled by two groups of men and following
a serpent]; p. 437 [Horus holding two serpents in each hand], pp.
446–47 [the sun god pulled by four jackals and four cobra-kings,
and riding in a bark supported by a large serpent].
Schulz, S. Untersuchungen zur Menschensohn-Christologie im
Johannesevangelium. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1957; see esp. pp. 104–9.
Schütz, J. Serpens Antiquus: Die alte Schlange. Das ist: Der
Sacraments Teuffel. Eisleben: Andream Petri, 1580. [This work
illustrates the denigration of serpent symbolism.]
Schwartz, F. L. W. Die altgriech. Schlangengottheiten. Berlin: Nauck,
1858.
Scott, E. F. “Ophitism,” Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, ed. by J.
Hastings. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark and New York: Charles
Scribner’s Sons, 1917 [1961]; vol. 9, pp. 499–501.
Seebass, H. “Biblisch-theologischer Versuch zu Num 20, 1–13 und 21,
4–9,* “Altes Testament—Forschung und Wirkung: Festschrift für
Henning Graf Reventlow, ed. by P. Mommer and W. Thiel.
Frankfurt and New York: Peter Lang, 1994; pp. 219–29.
Seel, O. Der Physiologus: Tiere und ihre Symbolik. Zürich: Artemis &
Winkler Verlag, 1995 [7th ed.]; see esp. pp. 18–21 [concerning
the asp and serpent], p. 77 [stork with a serpent]. [This work is
primarily a Christian meditation.]
Seele, K. C. “Horus on the Crocodiles,” Journal of Near Eastern
Studies 6 (1947) 43–52. [Note the two thirteenth cent. BCE
depictions of Horus controlling snakes.]
Seethaler, P. A. “Kleiner Diskussionsbeitrag zu Gen 3, 1–5,” Biblische
Zeitschrift N.F. 23 (1979) 85–86.
Servier, J. “Le miroir du serpent,” Spiegelung in Mensch und Kosmos,
ed. R. Rit-sema. Frankfurt am Main: Insel Verlag, 1988.
Sethe, K. Amun und die acht Urgötter von Hermopolis: Eine
Untersuchung über Ursprung und Wesen des Ägyptischen
Götterkönigs. Berlin: Verlag der Akademie der Wissenschaften
and Walter De Groyter and Co., 1929; see esp. pp. 26–27, 55,
124.
______. Imhotep, der Asklepios der Ägypter. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs,
1902.
Shalit, L. “How Moses Turned a Staff into a Snake and Back Again,”
Biblical Archaeology Review 9, No. 3 (1983) 72–73.
Shuker, K. Drachen: Mythologie—Symbolik—Geschichte. Augsburg:
Bechter-münz Verlag, 1997 [English original of 1995 by Marshall
Editions, Ltd., London]; see esp. “Schlangendrachen” on pp. 11–
38, “Fliegende Drachen [oder Schlange]” on pp. 77–94, and also
p. 55 [Old Babylonian cylinder seal with a serpent], pp. 70–71
 [Ishtar gate], and p. 107 [Hercules and the serpents].
Siegel, R. H. “The Serpent and the Dove: Christabel and the Problem
of Evil,” Imagination and the Spirit, ed. C. A. Huttar. Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Eerd-mans, 1971.
Sietto, G. B. Ta Eleus … niva Musthvria. Musthri … ake “Paradosei”
23. Athens: Purino “Kosmo,” 1993.
______. Ta Puqagovreia Musthvria. Musthri … ake” Paradosei” 19.
Athens: Purino “Kosmo,” 1993.
Silberman, L. H. “Paul’s Viper,” Foundations and Facets Forum 8
(1992) 24753. [While focusing on Acts 28:3–6, Silberman
demonstrates from Greek and Hebrew sources that the concept
of a snake as the dispenser of divine judgment “was far more
widespread than some commentators bothered to learn.”]
Simon, E. “Hesperides,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae 5.1, pp. 394–407 [bibliography]; see the photographs
in LIMC 5.2, Plates 287–91.
______. “Laokoon,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae
6.1, pp. 196–201 [bibliography]; see the photographs in LIMC
6.2, Plates 94–95.
Sist, L. “Stele magica con figurazione di dea serpente da aninoe,”
Vicino Oriente 1 (1978) 93–97.
Smelik, K. A., and E. A. Hemelrijk, “ ‘Who Knows Not What Monsters
Demented Egypt Worships?’: Opinions on Egyptian Animal
Worship in Antiquity as Part of the Ancient Conception of Egypt,”
ANRW II.17.4 (1984) 1852-2000.
Smit, D. I. O. “Serpens aut Daemonium?” in Miscellanea Biblica et
Orientalia, ed. A. Metzinger. Studia Anselmiana 27–28; Rome:
Herder, 1951; pp. 9497 [a study of Gen 4:7].
Smith, J. Z. “Towards Interpreting Demonic Powers in Hellenistic and
Roman Antiquity,” ANRW II.16.1 (1978) 425–39.
Smith, R. Lectures on Religions of the Semites. London: A. C. Black,
1894; see esp. pp. 120, 133, 168.
Smith, S. “What Were the Teraphim?” Journal of Theological Studies
33 (1932) 33–36.
Smith, W., and S. Cheetham, eds. “Serpent,” A Dictionary of Christian
Antiquities 2 London: John Murray, 1880, 1889–91.
Smith, W. R. The Religion of the Semites: The Fundamental
Institutions. New York: Meridian Books, 1956; see esp. pp. 118–
35, 166–73, 441–43.
Smith, W. S. The Art and Architecture of Ancient Egypt. Pelican
History of Art. Harmondsworth, 1965.
Smyth-Florentin, F. Les mythes illégitimes. Entrée Libre 30. Geneva:
Labor et Fides, 1994.
Sobel, H. Hygieia: Die Göttin der Gesundheit. Darmstadt:
Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1990; see esp. the forty
illustrations (numbered per page); most important, see Illus. 3b
[Hygieia, Asclepius, and a large serpent], Illus. 7a, 8b, 9a, 11b
[Hygieia with a serpent], 18a [Hygieia, Asclepius, and the
serpent].
Soden, W. von. Grundriss der Akkadischen Grammatik. Rome:
Pontificium Insti-tutum Biblicum, 1952; see esp. §56r.
______. “Verschlüsselte Kritik an Salomo in der Urgeschichte des
Jahwisten?” Die Welt des Orients 7 (1974) 228–40.
Soggin, J. A. “La caduta dell’unomo nel terzo capitolo della Genesi,”
Studi e Materiali di Storia delle Religioni 33 (1962) 227–56.
Speiser, E. A. Excavations at Tepe Gawra I: Levels I-VIII. Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 1935; see esp. pp. 111–12 [at
least seventeen bronze serpents were found in EB strata].
______. “Preliminary Excavations at Tepe Gawra,” Annual of the
American Schools of Oriental Research 9 (1929) 17–94 [see
preceding].
Speiser, W. Ostasiatische Kunst. Ullstein Kunstgeschichte 17. West
Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1964; see esp. Illus. 3 [dragons on a vase
from four-three cent. BCE], and 35 [dragons on a chest from
1585].
Stallman, R. C. “V)rO,” New International Dictionary of Old Testament
Theology and Exegesis, ed. W. A. Van Gemeren. Grand Rapids,
Mich.: Zondervan, 1997; vol. 3, pp. 84–88.
Stanford, P. The Devil: A Biography. New York: Henry Holt and
Company, 1996. Stauch, L. “Drache,” in Realex. d. dt.
Kunstgesch. 4 (1958) 342–66. Stauropoulos, S. G.
. Athens: Aiolos, 2000.
St. Clair, G. “The Subtle Serpent,” The Journal of Theological Studies
 7 (1906) 40–50.
Steel, Otto, Der Physiologus, Tiere und ihre Symbolik. Zürich, Artemis
and Winkler, 1995.
Stemmler-Morath, C. Schlangen. Basel, 1968; see esp. pp. 78ff.
Stephanus, H., et al., eds. “ ” Thesaurus Graecae Linguae. Paris:
Didot, n.d.; cols. 2454–55.
Stevens, K. G. De iconografie van de slang in Mesopotamia vanaf het
vijfde millennium voor Christus tot het einde van de Akkadische
periode, Magisterarbeit, 2 vols. [unpublished dissertation, 1984;
see the following entry]
______. “Eine Ikonographische Untersuchung der Schlange im
Vorgeschichtlichen Mesopotamien,” in Archaeologia Iranica et
Orientalis: Miscellanea in Honorem Louis Vanden Berghe, ed. L.
De Meyer and E. Haerninck. Leuven: Gent, 1989; pp. 1–32.
[Stevens laments the lack of a comprehensive study of serpent
iconography in Mesopotamia and attempts to offer a succinct
presentation.]
Stichel, R. “Die Verführung der Stammeltern durch Satanael nach der
Kurzfassung der slavischen Baruch-Apokalypse,” in Kulturelle
Traditionen in Bulgarien, ed. R. Lauer and P. Schreiner.
Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen;
Phil.-Hist. Klasse, Third Series, no. 177. Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1989; pp. 116–28.
Stork, L. “Schlange,” Lexikon der Ägyptologie, ed. W. Helck and W.
Westendorf., 5.1 (1983) cols. 644–52.
Strackmann, R. “Asklepios in Epidaurus,” in Materia Medica Nordmark
30 (November, December 1978). N.V.
Strauss, S. “Zur Symbolik der Schlange,” Psyche (1948) 340–57.
Sullivan, L. E. Icanchu’s Drum: An Orientation to Meaning in South
American Religions. New York: Macmillan and London:
Collier/Macmillan, 1988.
Tabick, J. “The Snake in the Grass: The Problem of Interpreting a
Symbol in the Hebrew Bible and Rabbinic Writings,” Religion 16,
no. 2 (April 1986) 155–67.
Tatum, W. B. “The LXX Version of the Second Commandment (Ex.
20,3–6 = Deut. 5,7–10): A Polemic Against Idols, Not Images,”
Journal for the Study of Judaism, 17 (1986) 177–95.
Taylor, L. “The Rainbow Serpent as Visual Metaphor in Western
Arnhem Land,” Oceania 60 (June 1990) 329–44.
Tertullian. Opera Montanistica. Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, II:
Tertullian Opera, Pars II. Turnholt: Typographi Brepolis Editores
Pontificii, 1954.
______. Tertulian—”De Idolatria”: Critical Text, Translation, and
Commentary, ed. J. H. Waszink and J. C. M. Van Winden.
Supplements to Vigiliae Chris-tianae: Texts and Studies of Early
Christian Life and Language 1. Leiden and New York: Brill, 1987.
Teselle, E. “Serpent, Adam, and Eve: Augustine and the Allegorical
Tradition,” Augustine: Presbyter Factus Sum, ed. J. Lienhard et
al. New York: Peter Lang, 1993.
Testa, P. E. Il Simbolismo dei Giudeo-Cristiani. Studium Biblicum
Franciscanum 14. Jerusalem: Tipografia dei PP. Francescani,
1962; see esp. pp. 278–82.
______. “La mitica rigenerazione della vita in un amuleto Samaritano-
Cristiano del IV Secolo,” Studii Biblici Franciscani, Liber Annus
22 (1973) 286–317.
Tetzlaff, I. Romanische Kapitelle in Frankreich: Löwe und Schlange,
Sirene und Engel. Cologne: DuMont Buchverlag, 1979 [3rd ed.].
Thielicke, H. How the World Began: Man in the First Chapters of the
Bible. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1961.
Thiersch, H. “Ein altmediterraner Tempeltyp,” Zeitschrift für die
alttestament-lichen Wissenschaft 50 (1932) 73–85 [a serpent
image applied to a pot was found near an MB altar at Shechem].
Thomas, D. W., ed. Archaeology and Old Testament Study: Jubilee
Volume of the Society for Old Testament Study 1917–67. Oxford:
Clarendon, 1967.
Thomas, H. “Beispiele der Wandlung: Adler und Schlange als
Natursymbole,” Antaios 12 (1971) 48–57.
Thompson, S. Motif-Index of Folk-Literature. 6 vols. Rev. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1955–58 [rev. and enlarged edition].
Thureau-Dangin, “Le serpent d’airain,” Revue d’histoire et de littérature
religieuses 1 (1896) 151–58.
Thüsing, W. Die Erhöhung und Verherrlichung Jesu im
Johannesevangelium. Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen 21.
 Münster, 1979 [3rd ed.].
Ting, N.-T. “The Holy Man and the Snake-Woman: A Study of a Lamia
Story in Asian and European Literature,” Fabula 8 (1966) 145–
91.
Tintelnot, H. Vom Klassizismus zur Moderne. Ullstein Kunstgeschichte
16. West Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1964; see esp. Fig. 14 [Ernst
Barlach’s Pan playing the flute before an upraised serpent], and
Illus. 73 [Henri Rousseau’s “Die Schlangenbeschwörerin”].
Tischendorf, C., ed. Acta Pilati A, in Evangelia Apocrypha, Editio
Altera. Leipzig: Hermann Mendelssohn, 1876.
Tobler, A. J. Excavations at Tepe Gawra II: Levels IX-XX. Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 1950. [See the depiction of a
serpent rising beneath a couple who are copulating; Plate 163:
87.]
Torn, K. van der. “Viper,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the
Bible, ed. K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst.
Leiden and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999
[2nd ed.]; p. 890.
Torrey, C. C. “Jeremiah and the Reptiles of Egypt,” The Lives of the
Prophets: Greek Text and Translation. Philadelphia: Society of
Biblical Literature, 1946; pp. 49–52.
______. “‘When I Am Lifted Up from the Earth’ John 12,32,” Journal of
Biblical Literature 51 (1932) 320–22.
Toscanne, P. “Etudes sur le serpent, figure et symbole dans l’antiquité
Elamite,” Mémoires de la Délégation en Perse, Tome XII:
Recherches Archéologiques. Quatrième Série. Paris: Ernest
Leroux, 1911; pp. 153–228.
Tottoli, R. “Il bastone di Mosè mutato in serpente nell’esegesi e nelle
tradizioni islamiche,” Annali 51 (1991 [Naples]) 225–43; see esp.
pp. 383–94 [on Moses’ staff].
Trendall, A. D. “Alkmene,” in Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae
Classicae pp. 552–56 [see the bibliography]; also see the
photographs in LIMC Plates 414–15.
Treu, U. “ ‘Otterngezücht’: Ein patristischer Beitrag zur Quellenkunde
des Physiolo-gus,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentlichen
Wissenschaft 50 (1959) 113–22.
Tristan, F. Les premières images chrétiennes: Du symbole à l’icône:
 IIe-VIesiècle. n.c.: Fayard, 1996.
Trokay, M. “Les origines du dieu élamite au serpent,” Mesopatamie et
Elam, ed. by M.J. Steve, et al. Ghent, Belgium: University of
Ghent, 1991.
Tsevet, M. “God and the Gods in Assembly,” Hebrew University
College Annual 40/41 (1969/1970) 123–37.
______. “Der Schlangentext von Ugarit,” Ugarit-Forschungen 11
(1979) 759- 78.
Turner, A. K. The History of Hell. New York and London: Harcourt
Brace & Co., 1993.
Turner, C. W. “Wie die Schlange zum Symbol der Medizin wurde,”
Ciba Zeitschrift (1934) 535–43.
Uehlinger, C. “Leviathan,” Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the
Bible, ed. K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst.
Leiden and Boston: Brill and Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999
[2nd ed.]; pp. 511–15.
Ullmann, M. Das Schlangenbuch des Hermes Trismegistos.
Wiesbaden: Harrossowitz, 1994.
Van Buren, E. D. “Entwined Serpents,” Archiv für Orientforschung 10
(19351936) 54–65.
______. “The God Ningizzida,” Iraq 1 (1934) 60–89.
______. “The Guardians of the Gate in the Akkadian Period,”
Orientalia N.S. 16 (1947) 312–32.
______. Symbols of Gods in Mesopotamian Art. Rome: Pontificium
Institutum Biblicum, 1945; see esp. p. 40.
Van den Branden, A. “La création de l’homme et de la femme d’après
le document Jahviste,” Bibbia e Oriente 166 (1990) 193–208.
Vassilakis, A. Knossos: Mythology-History-Guide to the Archaeological
Site, trans. D. Kapsambelis. Athens: Adam Editions, n.d.
Vázquez, J. A. “The Cosmic Serpent in the Codex Baranda,” Journal
of Latin American Lore 9 (1983) 3–15.
Veith, I. “Symbol of Medicine: Caduceus of Hermes or the Knotted
Staff of Aesculapius,” Modern Med. 15 (July 1958) 138–48.
Veldhuis, N. “An Ur III Incantation Against the Bite of a Snake, a
Scorpion, or a Dog,” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und
 Vorderasiatische Archäologie 82 (1992) 161–69.
Vergote, J. “Le nom du roi ‘Serpent,’ “ Orientalia 30 (1961) 355–65.
Vermaseren, M. J. “A Magical Time God,” Mithraic Studies 2; 446–56
[an important study of a male figure entwined by a snake].
Vermes, G. The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English. New York:
Penguin, 1997; see esp. p. 260.
Vermes, M. “Le serpent d’airain fabriqué par Moïse et les serpents
guérisseurs d’Esculape,” Revue Archéologique Series 5, vol. 6
(1918) 36–49.
Vetters, H. “Der Schlangengott,” in Studien zur Religion und Kultur
Kleinasiens [Festschrift F. K. Dörner]. Etudes Préliminaires aux
Religions Orientales dans l’Empire Romain 66.2. Leiden: Brill,
1978; pp. 967–79.
Vian, F., and M. B. Moore, “Gigantes,” in Lexicon Iconographicum
Mytholo-giae Classicae 4.1, pp. 191–270 [bibliography]; see also
the photographs in LIMC 4.2, esp. Plates 112–17, 149–58.
Vieyra, M. Hittite Art. London: A. Tiranti, 1955. [See esp. the LB bronze
statue of a god holding a serpent.]
Vincomb, J. Fictitious and Symbolic Creatures in Art with Special
Reference to Their Use in British Heraldry. London, 1906.
Virolleaud, M. “La mort de Baal: Poème de Ras-Shamra (I* AB),”
Syria 15 (1934) 305–36.
Visser, M. W. de. The Dragon in China and Japan. Wiesbaden, 1913.
Vlastos, G. “Religion and Medicine in the Cult of Asclepius,” The
Review of Religion 13 (1948) 269–90.
Vogel, J. P. Indian Serpent-Lore, or the Nagas in Hindu Legend and
Art. London: Arthur Probsthain, 1926.
______. “Serpent Worship in Ancient and Modern India,” Acta
Orientalia 2 (1924) 279–312.
Voth, H. R. The Oraibi Summer Snake Ceremony. Field Columbian
Museum Publication 83: Anthropological Series 3/4. Chicago,
1903.
Wackernagel, M. Renaissance, Barock und Rokoko I. Ullstein
Kunstgeschichte 13. West Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1964; see esp.
Illus. 31 [Simonetta Vespucci as Cleopatra (with a live serpent
around her neck)], 38 [Benvenuto Cellini’s Perseus with the head
 of Medusa], and 39 [Giambologna’s Mercury with the caduceus].
Waele, F. J. M. de. The Magic Staff or Rod in Graeco-Italian Antiquity.
Ghent: Drukkerij Erasmus, 1927.
______. “Zauberstab,” Roschers Lexicon 6 (1924–1937) 542–59.
Walker, A., ed. Animals in Ancient Art: From the Leo Mildenberg
Collection, part 3. Mainz: Verlag Philipp von Zabern, 1996; see
esp. III, 24 (bronze snake from Egypt, c. 1320–1200 BCE), III, 25
(serpent in cornelian, Egypt, Ptolemaic Period), III, 26 (granite
cobra head from Egypt, Greco-Roman Period), III, 27 (bronze
serpent, first or second cent. CE).
Walker, J. R. Lakota Belief and Ritual, ed. R. J. DeMallie and E. A.
Jahner. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1980.
Wallace, H. N. The Eden Narrative. Harvard Semitic Monographs 32.
Atlanta, Ga.: Scholars Press, 1985.
Warburg, A. M. Schlangenritual: Ein Reisebericht, with an Afterword by
U. Raulff. Berlin: Verlag Klaus Wagenbach, 1988. [This work is
devoted to the Pueblo Indians in North America; see esp. p. 17
(Ttzitz Chu’i, the serpent), p. 45 (dancing woman with serpents),
p 46 (Laocoon), p. 47 (As-clepios), p. 52 (serpents and selling
medicine against snake bites), p. 53 (raised serpent and the
crucifixion according to Add. MS. 31303), p. 80 (serpents
collected for the New Year’s ceremony), and p. 81 (Pueblos
dancing with snakes in their mouths)].
Ward, W. A. “The Four-winged Serpent on Hebrew Seals,” Rivista
degli studi orientali 43 (1968) 135–43.
______. “The Hiw-Ass, the Hiw-Serpent, and the God Seth,” Journal of
Near Eastern Studies 37 (1978) 23–34.
Ward, W. H. The Seal Cylinders of Western Asia. Carnegie Institute of
Washington Publication no. 100. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie
Institute, n.d. [See the bulls next to a serpent entwined around
the staff of a god (No. 905).]
______. Cylinders and Other Ancient Oriental Seals in the Library of J.
Pierpont Morgan. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1920.
Waters, F. Book of the Hopi. New York: Viking Press, 1963.
Watzinger, C. Denkmäler Palästinas: Eine Einführung in die
Archäologie des Heiligen Landes, 2 vols. Leipzig: J.C. Hinrichs,
1933, 1935.
Weber, O. Die Dämonenbeschwörung bei den Babyloniern und
Assyrern: Der Alte Orient 7.4. Leipzig: J.C. Hinrichs, 1906.
Weder, H. “L’asymétrie du salut. Réflexions sur Jean 3, 14–21 dans le
cadre de la théologie Johannique,” in La communauté
Johannique et son histoire: La trajectoire de l’évangile de Jean
aux deux premiers siécles, ed. by J.-D. Kaestli, J.-M. Poffet, and
J. Zumstein. Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1990; pp. 156–84.
Wellman, M. “Basilisk,” Paulys Realencyclopädie der classischen
Altertumswissenschaft, 3.7 (1987) cols. 10–101.
Welsford, E. “Serpent-Worship: Teutonic and Balto-Slavic,”
Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, ed. J. Hastings.
Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark and New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons,
1920 [1962]; vol. 11, pp. 419–23.
Welten, P. “Schlange,” Biblische Reallexikon (1977) 280–82.
Wénin, A. “Adam et Ève: La jalousie de Caïn, ‘semence’ du serpent,”
Revue des sciences religieuses 73 (1999) 3–16.
______. “Satan ou l’adversaire de l’alliance: Le serpent, père du
mensonge,” Graphe 9 (2000) 23–43.
Werner, E. T. C. A Dictionary of Chinese Mythology. New York:
Shangai, Kelly and Welsh, 1961; see esp. p. 448.
______. Myths and Legends of China. London: G. G. Harrap & Co.,
1922; see esp. pp. 227–30.
West, J. A. Serpent in the Sky: The High Wisdom of Ancient Egypt.
Wheaton, Ill: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1993 [to be
read with a critical eye].
Westermann, C. Genesis 1–11: A Commentary, trans. J. J. Scullion.
Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974; see esp. pp. 237–242.
Westheim, P. Die Kunst Alt-Mexikos. Ullstein Kunstgeschichte 18.
West Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1964; see esp. Illus. 25 [a black
granite serpent made by the Aztecs].
______. The Gospel of John: In Light of the Old Testament, trans. S.
S. Schatzmann. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1998.
Westropp, Hodder M., and C. Staniland Wake, Ancient Symbol
Worship. White-fish, Mont.: Kessinger, 1997.
Whitehead, N. L. “The Snake Warriors—Sons of the Tiger’s Teeth: A
 Descriptive Analysis of Carib Warfare, ca. 1500–1820,” Acta
Antiqua 37 (1996–1997) 146–70. [The Caribs originate,
according to a widely held myth, from a giant snake’s rotting
body.]
Whitekettle, R. “Rats Are Like Snakes, and Hares Are Like Goats: A
Study in Israelite Land Animal Taxonomy,” Biblica 82 (2001)
345–62.
Whiting, R. M. “Six snake omens in New Babylonian Script,” Journal of
Cuneiform Studies 36, no. 2. (1984) 206–10.
Whittaker, M. Jews and Christians. Cambridge Commentaries on
Writings of the Jewish and Christian World 200 B.C. to A.D. 200;
No. 6. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984; see esp.
pp. 188–89, 195–97, 212–13.
Widengren, G. The King and the Tree of Life in Ancient Near Eastern
Religion: King and Savior. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1951.
Wiedemann, A. Der Tierkult der alten Ägypter. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs,
1912.
Wiesel, E. “The Serpent,” Bible Review 13.6 (1997) 18–19 [trans. A.
Martin].
Wiggerman, F. A. M. “Transtigridian Snake Gods,” in Sumerian Gods
and Their Representations, ed. I. L. Finkel and M. J. Geller.
Cuneiform Monographs 7; Groningen: STYX Publications, 1997;
pp. 33–55.
Wiggins, S. A. “The Myth of Asherah: Lion Lady and Serpent
Goddess,” Ugarit-Forschungen 23 (1991) 383–94. [Wiggins
clarifies that as the Serpent Goddess, Asherah has connections
with Qedeshet, Eve, and Tanit.]
Wilbert, J. “Eschatology in a Participatory Universe: Destinies of the
Soul Among the Warao Indians of Venezuela,” in Death and the
Afterlife in Pre-Columbian America, ed. E. P. Benson.
Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1975; pp. 163–89.
Will, E. “Le tour de straton: Mythes et réalités,” Syria 64 (1987) 245–
51.
Williams, A. J. “The Relationship of Genesis 3:20 to the Serpent,”
Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 89 (1977) 357–
74.
Williams, C. A. S. Outlines of Chinese Symbolism and Art Motives.
 Tokyo: Charles E. Tuttle, 1974.
Williams, J. G. “Serpent and the Son of Man,” The Bible Today 39
(2001) 22-26.
Williams, W. G. “Serpent, Bronze,” Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible,
vol. 4. Nashville: Abingdon, 1962; p. 291.
Williams-Forte, E. “The Snake and the Tree in the Iconography and
Texts of Syria During the Bronze Age,” in Ancient Seals and the
Bible, ed. L. Gorelick and E. Williams-Forte. Malibu, Calif.:
Undena Publications, 1983; 18–43. [The author claims that in
Genesis 3, the serpent symbolizes evil and cunning, not death.
The serpent is the deceiver.]
Wilpert, C. B. Kosmogonische Mythen der australischen
Eingeborenen. Munich, 1970.
Wilson, K. V. K. The Legend of Etana. Warminster: Aris and Phillips,
1985.
Wilson, Leslie S., The Serpent Symbol in the Ancient Near East. New
York: University Press of America, 2001.
Wilson, P. J. “Snake on a Stick,” Christian Century 111 (1994) 223.
Wilson, R. McL. “Gnosis/Gnostizismus II,” Theologische
Realenzyklopädie. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1984; vol. 13, pp.
535–50 [for Ophites].
Windisch, H. “Angelophanien um den Menschensohn auf Erden,”
Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 30 (1931) 215–
35.
Winston, D. The Wisdom of Solomon: A New Translation with
Introduction and Commentary. The Anchor Bible. New York:
Doubleday, 1979; see esp. pp. 294–97.
Winter, U. Frau und Göttin. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 53. Freiburg:
Universitätsverlag and Göttingen: Vanderhoeck & Ruprecht,
1983, 1987.
Winternitz, M. “Der Sarpabali, ein altindischer Schlangencult,’ in
Mitteilungen der anthropologischen Gesellschaft 18 (1888). N.V.
Wiseman, D. J. “Flying Serpent,” Tyndale Bulletin 23 (1972) 108–10.
Wohlstein, H. “Zur Tier-Dämonologie der Bibel,” Zeitschrift der
deutschen morgenländischen Gesellschaft 113 (1963) 483–92.
Wolde, E. van. “A Reader-Oriented Exegesis Illustrated by a Study of
the Serpent,” Pentateuchal and Deuteronomistic Studies, ed. C.
Brekelmans and J. Lust. Louvain: Leuven University Press,
1990.
Wolkstein, D., and S. N. Kramer. “The Huluppu —Tree,” Inanna,
Queen of Heaven and Earth: Her Stories and Hymns from
Sumer. New York: Harper & Row, 1983.
Woloschin, M. Die Grüne Schlange. Stuttgart: Verlag Freies
Geistesleben, 1982 [6th printing; the original is 1954; a novel].
Woude, A. S. van der. Die messianischen Vorstellungen der Gemeinde
von Qumran. Studia Semitica Neerlandica 3. Assen: Van
Gorcum & Co., 1957; see esp. pp. 144–56.
Wright, G. E. “Archaeological Observation on the Period of the Judges
and the Early Monarchy,” Journal of Biblical Literature 60 (1941)
27–42.
Wrigley, C. “The River-God and the Historians: Myth in the Shire Valley
and Elsewhere,” Journal of African History 29 (1988) 367–83.
Wyatt, N. “Attar and the Devil,” Glasgow University Oriental Society
Transactions 25 (1973/1974) 85–97. [Wyatt contends that the
serpent is to be seen as the Ugaritic god Athtar.]
______. “Interpreting the Creation and Fall Story in Genesis 2–3,”
Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 93 (1981) 10–
21.
Wyly, J. The Phallic Quest: Priapus and Masculine Inflation. Studies in
Jungian Psychology by Jungian Analysts 38. Toronto: Inner City
Books, 1989.
Yadin, Y. “The Fourth Season of Excavations at Hazor,” Biblical
Archaeologist 22 (1959) 2–20. [The Canaaanite temple had
bronze serpents.]
______. “Further Light on Biblical Hazor: Results of the Second
Season, 1956” Biblical Archaeologist 20 (1957) 34–47. [Yadin
interpreted (rightly) some figures as serpents on a cult standard.]
______. Hazor. London: Oxford University Press, 1972.
______. “A Note on the Scenes Depicted on the ‘Ain-Samiya Cup,”
Israel Exploration Journal 21 (1971) 82–85.
______. “Symbols of Deities at Zinjirli, Carthage and Hazor,” in Near
 Eastern Archaeology in the 20th Century, ed. J. A. Sanders.
Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970; pp. 199–232.
Yadin, Y., et al., eds. Hatzor III-IV: Plates. Jerusalem: Magnes Press,
1961. [Two bronze serpents, perhaps from LB II, were found
near the temple in Area H.]
Yahuda, A. S. “The Symbolism and Worship of the Serpent,” Religions
26 (1939) 16–29.
Yamauchi, E. M. Persia and the Bible. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker
Books, 1996; see esp. pp. 495–96 [the tauroctony and the
serpent], and Illus. 497–98 [the lion-headed image entwined with
a snake.]
Yeivin, S. “The Brazen Serpent,” Bet Mikra 72 (1977) 10–11.
______. “A Silver Cup from Tomb 204a at ‘Ain-Samiya,” Israel
Exploration Journal 21 (1971) 78–81.
Yen, Y.-S. “Biography of the White Serpent: A Keatsian Interpretation,”
Fabula 1 (1957) 227–43.
Young, B. The Snake of God: A Story of Memory and Imagination.
Montgomery, Al.: Black Belt Press, 1996.
Young, D. W. “With Snakes and Dates: A Sacred Marriage Drama at
Ugarit,” Ugarit-Forschungen 9 (1977) 291–314.
Zahlhaas, G. Aus Noahs Arche: Tierbilder des Sammlung Mildenberg
aus fünf Jahrtausenden. Mainz: Verlag Philipp von Zabern, 1996;
see esp. pp. 3335, “Die Schlange.”
Zani, di Lorenzo. “Il serpente di rame e Gesù,” La Storie de Jesu.
Milan: Rizzoli, 1984; see esp. pp. 1338ff. Zauzich, K.-Th, “Ein
neuer Schlangengott,” Göttinger Miszellen 87 (1985) 89.
Zeegers-VanderVorst, N. “Satan, Ève et le serpent chez Théophilie
d’Antioche,” Vigiliae Christianae 35 (1981) 152–69.
Zimmer, H. Philosophies of India, ed. J. Campbell. New York:
Bollingen, 1961; reprinted in New York: Meridian Books, 1956.
Zimmerli, W. “Das Bilderverbot in der Geschichte des Alten Israel
(Goldenes Kalb, Eherne Schlange, Mazzeben und Lade)”
Schalom: Studien zu Glaube und Geschichte Israels, ed. K.-H.
Bernhardt. Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1971; pp. 86–96
[republished in ThB 51 (1974) 247–60].
Zimmermann, F. Der ägyptische Tierkult nach der Darstellung der
 Kirchenschriftsteller und die ägyptischen Denkmäler.
Dissertation, Bonn, 1912.
Zimniok, K. Die Schlange das unbekannte Wese: In der
Kulturgeschichte, freien Natur und im Terrarium. Hanover:
Landbuch, 1984; see esp. “Die Schlange in der Antike und im
Christentum” on pp. 58–71.
Zschietzschmann, W. Kunst der Etrusker, Römische Kunst. Ullstein
Kunstgeschichte 6. West Berlin: Ullstein Bücher, 1963; see esp.
Illus. 3 [7th cent. BCE urn with serpents], 11 and 12 [gorgo], and
36 [lions with tails like serpents].
Zuntz, G. Persephone: Three Essays on Religion and Thought in
Magna Graecia. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971.
General Index

Aaron
Abode (Isle) of the Blessed Ones
Abraham
Abraxas
Abu Usba
Acco (also Akko, Acre) Achelous Acontias Actium
Adam
Adid (also Karkom, mountain) Adonijahn Aeetes Aegean islandsn
Aegipan
Aelia Capitolina Aelian (also Claudius Aelianus)
Aeolus
Aeon (also Aion); as Zrvan Akarana in Mithraism
Aesop
Africa
Agamemnon Agatha Tyche
Agathadaimon (also Agathos Daimon)
Agesander
Ahab
Ahaziah
Ahura Mazda
Ain Rogel (also En Rogel)
Akkad and Akkadians
Akkadian language and lexican
Alcmene Alcyoneus
Alecto Aleppo Alexander Jannaeus Alexander of Abonuteichos
Alexander the Great
Alexandria
Amenophis
Amenophis
Amman
Amorite (language)
Amorites
Amphiaraos
Amphitryon
Anat (also Anath)
Anatolian; Anatolian art
Andrew, St.
Angra Mainyu (also Ahriman)
Annaeus Florus
Annius Verus
Antas Valley (in Carthaginia)
Antioch
Antiphas
Antoninus Pius Anubis
Aphraate
Aphrodite (also Venus)
Apocryphan. See also Index of Ancient Sources Apollo, See also
Phoebus
Apollodorus
Apophis (also Apep)
Aquila (LXX)n Aquileia
Arabia (Arabian Peninsula)
Arad, Archelaus Archemoros Archinos Ard el-Birkeh Argonauts
(Argonautica) Argos (city) Aristophanes Aristotle
Arius Arpad
Artemidorus
Artemisn. See also Diana
Asclepius (also Aesculepius, Asklepios), Asklepieia, and Asclepian
cultsn
Ashdodn
Asherahn Ashkelon
Ashtoreth
Assyria and Assyrian language, lore, and people
Astoreth Aswan
Athamas (king of Thebes) Athanasius
Athenan. See also Minerva
Athenodorus
Athensn
Athienou (on Cyprus)
Atlas
Attis
Augustine, St.
Augustusn. See also Octavian
Aborigines (Australia); aboriginal mythologies
Avesta Azi-Dahaka Aztecs

Baal
Baal-Hadad Baal Zebub Baal Zebul Babi
Babylon, Babylonians, and Babylonian literature
Babylonian Exilen
Babylonian Talmud
Bar Kokhba
basiliskn
Bedouinn Beelzebub
Beer-sheban
Behemoth
Belial
Beloved Disciple (in Gospel of John)
Besn Bethel Bethesda (also Bethzatha)
Bethlehem
Beth Shan (also Beth-shan, Beth Shean, Bei-san)n
Beth Shemeshn
Bithynia
Black ibis Black Sea
Blake, William Boccaccio, Giovannin Boeotia Bordeaux Pilgrim
Brabender, Johann Brancacci Chapel (Florence) Britain, invasions of
Burmese snake worshippers
Buto Byblos
Byron, George Gordon, Lord

Cadmus (also Kadmos)

caduceus
Caesarea Maritima
Cain
Calvin, Johnn Canaan and Canaanites
Canterbury
Capernaumn
Caracalla
Casa del Menandro (Pompeii) Casa di Laocoonte (Pompeii)
Cassibellawn Castel San Mariano Castores
Catacombs; of Kom el-Shuqafa; of Lucina and Priscilla; of Via Latina;
of Vigna Randanini
Celsus, Aulus Cornelius. See also Origen
Celts
Cerberus (also Kerberos)
Ceres
Cernunnos
Chagall, Marc Chalcedon
Chariboea
Chimera (also Chimaera)
China
Chnoubis Christol, St.
Chronos. See also
Saturn Cicero Cilicia Cimbalka
Cleopatra VIIn
Coffin Texts
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor
Conca (Satricum)
Constantine the Great
Constantinople copper or bronze serpent in Numbers
Corinth Corycian cave
Cos
Cosimo, Piero di
Costa Rica
Crete
Cult of San Domenico at Cocullo Curissia Cybele Cyclades Cyclops
Cyprus Cyrene

Dabara Damascus Gate

Dan (Laish)
Daniel
Danten
Daphne Dardanos Dead Sea
Dead Sea Scrolls
death: of Aaron; and afterlife in Greco-Roman traditions; of Asclepius;
of Bar Kochba; and blood of the Gorgon; and the bronze serpent
(Num 21):; as caused by demons; of Cleopatra; of Domitian; and the
Fall (Gen 2); of Jesus; of Laocoon and his sons; personified;of Pliny
the Elder; salvation as escape from; sarcophagi; and serpent
 associated with the corpse of St. Mark (Venice); and serpent’s
strength; and serpent symbology; snake as death-giver; and the
snake’s molting; of Socrates; of Solomon; and symbolism of the staff
of Asclepius; and underworld
Delos
Delphi
Demeter
Deus sol invictus
Deuteronomist
Devil
Dhenia (Cyprus)
Dianan. See also
Artemis Dido Dinkas Dio Cassius Dion Chrysostomos Dionysus (also
Bacchus, Zagerius)
Dioskouroi Doris (Greece)
dragon (dragon-serpent, lion-dragon, winged dragon)
Dresden Codex (Mayan)
Duality Dura-Europos
Durga (Kali)

Early Judaism ecdysis (molting) Echidna

Egypt
Ein Samiya Ekron (Khirbet el-Muqanna’)
Elagabalus Elephantine
elephants, and snakes
Eleusinian cultn
El Grecon Elijah El-Wad
Enkidu
Enkomi (on Cyprus) Ennius Epeios
Ephesus
Epicurus
Epidaurus Epiphanius of Salamis
Epirus Erechtheus
Erosn; as Amor; as Cupid; Eros-Hypnos
Essenes Etruscansn
Euphrates Euripides Europa
Euryale (sister of Medusa) Eurystheus Eurytion
Eusebius
Eustace, St.
Eve
evil
evil eye

Fall (Genesis)
Fates
Father, God asn
Fertile Crescent
Festus
Flavius Philostratus
Florence
Fortuna
Freud, Sigmund, and Freudians
Furies Gabriel

Gaia (Earth, also Ge) Galilee; Lower Galilee; Northern Galilee, Upper
Galilee
Gamla
Garden of Adonisn
Garden of Eden
Garden of the Hesperides
Gauguin, Paul
Gaul
Gemara George, St.
Geryon
Gezer Giants (also Titans)n
Gideon
Gilgamesh epic
Giorgio Martini, Francesco di
Glykon
Gnostics and Gnosticism
GÖbekli Tepe
Golan
Golden Fleece
Gorgon
Gracián, Baltasarn Great African Rift Valley Great Mother
Greecen

Habakkuk
Hadesn See also Pluto Hadrian Hagia Triada Haifa
Haiti
Halafian culture
Hamat Gader
Harmonia
Harod Valley
Harpokrates (also Harpocrates) Hasmoneansn Hathorn Hazor
Hebrews, See also Israelites Hecate
Helios Hell
Hera (also Juno)
Herculaneumn
Hercules (also Herakles, Heracles)
Hermes (also Mercury); Hermes Psy-chopompos
Herod Archelaus
Herodotus
Herod the Great
Heros Equitans
Hesiod
Hezekiahn
Hinduism
Hippocrates
Hittitesn
Hizma
Hohenasperb
Hölderlin, Friedrichn
Homer
Hopi Horacen Horapollon
Horus
House of the Evil Eye
House of the Vettiin
Hubert, St.
Huleh Valley
Humboldt, Alexander vonn
Hyakinthos
Hydra
Hygieia
Hyksosn

Ianitor Orci. See Cerberus

Ibis
Ice Age
Idumeans Ierapetra
Indian
Indus Valley
Ino
Irenaeus
Isaiahn
Ishtar Gate
Isis; Temple of Isis (Pompeii)
Isis-Thermousis
Israelites. See also Hebrews
Izumo (Japanese shrine)

Jacob’s Well
Jalamen
Jamal (in Israel) Japanese mythology Jason Java
Jebusites Jericho
Jeroboam I
Jerusalemn. See also Temple of Jerusalem
Jesus
Jezreel Valley
Johannine tradition and community John the Baptizer Jonahn
Jordan
Jordan Rift Valley Jordan River Josephus
Joshuan
Judaea
Judas
Julius II, Pope
Julius Caesar
Jung, Carl Gustavnn
Jünger, Friedrich Georg
Justin Martyr
Kali
Kaliya
Kamarina (nymph) Kambach, J. J.n Karnak
Kasr Daoud (Egypt)
Kato Chorio (Crete)
Kebara cave (Israel) Keto Khnoum
Khorsabad
Kierkegaard, S⊘ren K limt, Gustav Knossosn Kore. See also
Persephone Kreousa (nymph) Krishna

La Baume-Latrone caves (France) Labbu Labyrinth

Ladon Lanuvium (cave)n Laocoon (also Laokoon)
Lares
Last Judgment Latium Lavinium
Lawrence, T. E.n Lazarus Lebanon Lebene
Leda
Lerna Lernaean Hydra Lessing, Georg
Leto
Levant
Leviathan
Libya
London
Lucan
Lucian Lucifer Lucretius Lud (also Lludd) Luristan
Luther, Martinn

Madaba map Maenadsn Magharat el-Wad (cave)

Marcus Aurelius Marduk Mareshah
Mark Antonyn Marrakech Mars Mary (mother of Jesus)
Mary Magdalenen MasadaMater Auxiliatrix (painting) Medea
Mediterranean world
Medusa
Megasthenes
Megiddo
Melampusn Melanchthon, Philipp Melanesia Meletius Memphis
menorahn
Merida (Spain)
Mesopotamia
Messiah
Metelis
Mexico
Michael (archangel) Michelangelo Midian
Midrash
Min (Egyptian god) Minerva. See also Athena Minoan culture; serpent
goddess in Mithra (also Mithras) and Mithraism
Mitzpeh Ramon
Monastiraki
Moses
“Mother Goddess,” Mount Carmel
Mount Casius
Mount Ebal
Mount Gerizim
Mount Hermon Mozart Muhammadn Munhata (Israel) Muses Mycenae
mysteries

Naga (Indian deity/demon)

Nana
Napoleon
Nasca (Peruvian people)
Native Americans
Neapolis. See Shechem
Nebat
Nebuchadnezzar II Negevn Nehemiah
Nehushtan
Nephthys
Neptune
Nicodemus (in John)
Nicostratus
Nietzsche, Friedrichn Nile
Nineveh
Nirah (Mesopotamian deity)
Norsen
North Africa
North Pole Nox

Octaviann. See also Augustus Olympia

Olympiodorus of Thebes
Olympus
Oman
Ophites
Origen Orpheus
Orphic Hymns
Orthos (dog of Eurytion)
Osiris
Ostia Otakar, Kubin Ouranos (also Sky) Ouriel (angel)
“Our Lady of the Mammoths,”
Ouroboros
Ovid

Palace of Uperi (Qal’at Bahrain) Palaestra

Palestine
Pallene
Pammenes
Pan
Panakeia Panama Canal
Paradise
pariah dogs Paris (Trojan prince) Parthenon Parvati Pascal, Blaise
Passion (of Christ)
Passover Pater Sardus (deity) Patrick, St.
Paul, St.
Pegasus Peleus Pella Peloponnese
Pergamum; altar; coinsn; temple Periboea
Periclymenus
Persephone (also Kore, Proserpina)n
Perseus
Persia (Iran)
Perun
Peter, St. Phaethon Phaistos
phallus
Pheidias
Pherekydes of Athens
Philip I (Roman emperor)
Philistines
Philo of Alexandria
Philo of Byblos
Phocylides
Phoebus. See also Apollo Phoenicia
Phorcus
Phorkys Phylarchus
pillar (as cult object) Pindar Piraeus
Pistrinum (Pompeii)
Plato
Pliny the Elder
Pliny the Younger Plutarch Pluto. See also Hades Podaleirios
Polydorus
Pompeii; jewelry from; murals, mosaics, and wall paintings; Rotas-
Sator Square at
Pompey
Pontius Pilate
Pool of Serpents (Sultan’s Pool)
Porces
Porphyrion
Porphyry Porto Badisco nel Salento Poseidon Potnia Praxiteles
Priam
Priapus Prokles
Prometheus Prudentius Pseudo-Alexander
Pseudo-Apollodorus
Psuedo-Callisthenes
Psuedo-Tertullian Psyllian snake-charmers Ptolemies
Pyramid Texts Pythagoreans

Q (Sayings Source) Qadesh Q. Ogulnius

Qudshu
Quenin, St.
Quetzalcoatl Qumran (Khirbet Qumran); lexicography of serpents in
the Qumran scrolls: Al-Qusais (graves)

Rabbi Ben Azzai

Rabbi Eleazar
Rabbi Eliezar ha-Kappar
Rabbi Gamaliel II
Rabbi Janni
Rabbis (also rabbinic teaching)
Rahabn
Rainbow Serpent
Ramallah
Rameses I II
Ramleh
Ras Shamra (see also Ugarit)
Re
Red Dragon: in the Book of Revelation; in British legend Remus
Rhine
Rhodes
Rilke, Rainer Marian
Roch, St.
Rome
Romulus Rousseau, Jean-Jacquesn Russia Rustam

Sabazius
Sadducees
Saladin
Salus Samael Samaria
Sanchuniathonn. See also Philo of Byblos
Sappho
sarcophagusn
Sargon II
Satan
Saturn. See also Chronos
Satyrs
Savior
Scylla Scythia Scythopolis
Sea of Galilee (also Kinneret Yam)
Second Temple Judaism Secundus of Pentapolis Sefire inscription
Sefunim
Selene (also Luna) Semites Sennacherib Septem
Septuagint
Seraphim
Serapis (also Sarapis)n serpents and snakes
—artifacts/material culture and serpent/ snake iconography:
architecture; bowls; braceletsnn; bronze serpents (see also
bracelets; clasps; pendants; rings in this entry)n; cauldrons; claspsn;
“cultic” objects; cult object in the Temple of Jerusalem; cups; glass;
jugs and pitchers; ladle; lamps; paintingsn; pendants; rings
sculpture and statues
serpents and snakes—artifacts/material culture and serpent/snake
iconography; staffs (see also caduceus); vases—biblical terminology
relating to snakes
—varieties and species of snakes: adder; Asian Netpython; asp;
Balkan Whip snake; Bibron’s Blind snaken; Black African cobra;
Black indigo snake; black mamba; Boomslang; cobra; copperhead;
coral snake; desert cobra; Diamondback Rattlesnake; Dice Snake;
Egyptian cobra (also naja haje) ; garden snake; Green Mamba;
Horn-viper; Leopard Snake; Mossambic cobra; puff adder; python;
rattlesnake; spitting cobra; Yellow Blunt-headed Vinesnaken
Seth Seti I
Sha’ar HagolanShahnameh (Persian Book of Kings)
Shakespeare, Williamn
Sharon Plain
Shechem (Tell Balatah)
Sheol
Shesha (also Sesa, snake form of Indian god Vishnu)
Shiloh Shimon ben Shetach Shiqmona Shivan
Sidon
Sigmund (Norse hero)
Signs Source (source for Gospel of John)
Silenoi
Sirach
Sirona (Celtic goddess)
Sisiul (Native American mythic serpent)
Skhul
Smyrna
Socrates Solomon
Somnus
Son of Man, Jesus as
Sophia of the Epinoia (Gnostic figure) Sorek Valley Souriel (angel)
South America Spain
SpartaSpartoi (Sown Men)
Sphinx
Stheno (sister of Medusa)
Spinoza, Baruch
St. Anne’s Church (Jerusalem)
Stoicism
St. Petersburg
Strabo
Strymon
Stuck, Franz von Suetonius Sumer
Sun
Susan
Susanoh (Japanese deity)
Sussita
Sychar
Synoptic Gospels
Syria

Taautos. See also Philo of Byblos

Tabun
Talthybios
Talyessin (also Taliesin)
Tammuzn
Tanganyika
Tannin and Tanninim
Tartarus
Tauroctony. See also Mithra Tel el-Ajjul Tel el-Hosn
Tel el-Qedah
Telephos (son of Herakles) Telesphoros (son of Asclepius) Tel es-
Sultan
Tell Balatah Tell Brakn
Tell Beer-sheba
Tell Beit Mirsim Tell el-Qadi
Tell es-Safi
Tello Tellus Tel Matash Tel Mevorak Tel Miqne
Tel Sandahanna
Temple of Chon (at Karnak)
Temple of Jerusalemn
Ten Commandments Tenedos
Tertullian Tetragrammatonn Thebes Theodosian Code Theseus
Thessaly
Thetis Thor
Thraetaona (Iranian culture hero)
Tiâmat
Tiber
Tiberias
Tiberius
Tiglath pileser I
Tiglath-pileser III Tillich, Pauln
Tintoretto Tisiphone (one of the Furies) Titans Titeos Tonacatocoatl
Tongeren, Belgium Torah
Trajann
Triptolemus. See also Eleusinian cult
Tritonia (epithet of Minerva) Trojans and Trojan War. See Laocoon
Turin Turkestan
Turkey. See also Anatolia Tutankhamen
Tyndale, William
Typhon

Ugarit
Ulm
Urna (consort of Shiva)
uraeus

Valerius Gratus
Valéry, Paul
Valley Gate (Jerusalem)
Varro
Venice Vespucci, Simonetta
Vesta
Vesuvius Vima (Iranian culture hero) Virgil
Vishnu
Vix (in Châtillon-sur-Seine) votives and votive offerings
Vulcan

Wadi ed-Daliyeh
White Dragon of the Saxons
William Crafts
Wisdom
Wycliffe, John

Xenophon

Yahwist
Yaltabaoth
Yarmuk

Zea Island
Zebedee (father of John)
Zeus (also Jupiter, Jove); Zeus Asclepius; Zeus Heliopolitanusn; Zeus
Meilichios; Zeus Milik
Zion
Zohelet Stone (also Serpent Stone)
Zoroaster (also Zarathustra)
Zoroastrianism
Zulus
Zurvan
Index of Modern Authors

Abadie, M. J.
Abbott, K. M.
Abel, F.-M.
Aharoni, Y.
Ahituv, S.
Ahlström, G. W.
Aland, B.
Aland, K.
Albertoni, M.
Albright, W. F.
Alexander, G.
Alexiou, S., Altmann, A.
Amaducci, A. B.
Amar, Z.
Amélineau, E.
Amiet, E.
Anderson, A. A.
Anderson, B. W., Anderson, H.
Anderson, P. N.
Andreae, B.
Angier, N.
Angus, S.
Antonova, Ye. V.
Arav, R.
Armstrong, J.
Arndt, W. F.
Asgari, N.
Ashley, T. R.
Ashton, J.
Asirvatham, S. R.
Astius, F.
Asurmendi, J.
Athanassakis, A. N.
Attridge, H. W.
Aufrecht, W. E.
Augé, C.
Aune, D. E.
Aupert, P.
Ausloos, H.
Avalon, A. (Sir John Woodroffe)
Avalos, H.
Avi-Yonah, M.,
Azarpay, G.

Baentsch, B.
Baeumler, A.
Bagley, R. W.
Baguley, E. C.
Bahat, A.
Bahat, D.
Bahlule, Hassano bar
Bailey, C.
Bailey, J.
Bailly, M. A.
Baines, W.
Balanchine, G.
Baldini, U.
Ball, W.
Baltzer, K.
Bandini, P.
Banti, L.
Barash, A.
Barnett, R. D.
Barreto, J.
Bar-Yosef, O.
Bastien, P. C. V.
Battaglia, G.
Battaglia, S.
Batto, B. F.
Bauchhenss, G.
Bauchot, R.
Baudelaire, C.
Baudissin, W. W. G.
Bauer, H.
Bauer, W.
Baumgarten, A. I.
Baumgarten, J. M.
Baumgartner, W.
Bayet, J.
Bayley, H.
Beard, M.
Beasley-Murray, G. R.
Becker, C.
Beckman, G.
Behr, C. A.
Beirne, M. M.
Beit-Arié, M.
Béjart, A.
Béjart, M.
Bellamy, J.
Bellesort, M. N.
Bellinger, G. J.
Bellotta, I. Belting-Ihm, Ch.
Ben Arieh, S.
Ben-Hayyim, Z.
Ben-Tor, A.
Bentzen, A.
Berger, K.
Berghe, L. vanden
Bergoffen, C. J.
Berlejung, A.
Bernabo, M.
Bernard, J. H.
Bernhard, M.
Bernhard, O.
Betz, H. F. D.
Betz, O.
Beyerlin, W.
Bialik, H. N.
Bianchi, R. S.
Bianchi, U.
Biedermann, H.
Biel, J.
Bieringer, R.
Biran, A.
Bittel, K. Black, C. C.
Black, J.
Black, M.
Blenkinsopp, J.
Blomberg, C. L.
Bliss, F. J.
Boardman, J.
Boccaccini, G.
Bodenheimer, F. S.
Bodson, L.
Boelsche, W.
Boer, M. B. de
Boer, W. den
Böhl, F. M. Th.
Böhme-Schönberger, A.
Boismard, M. E.
Boltin, L.
Bonfante-Warren, A.
Bonfil, R.
Bonhoeffer, D.
Bonn, A. G.
Bordenacher, G.
Borgen, P.
Boring, M. E.
Borowski, E.
Borsje, J.
Bortolot, B. J.
Bossert, H. Th.
Botting, D.
Boucharlat, R.
Bouché-Leclercq, A.
Boulnois, J.
Bourbon, F.
Bowman, A. K.
Boyce, G. K.
Brady, T. A.
Branch, B.
Brandram, T. P.
Bratten, B. P.
Braude, W. G.
Breglia, L.
Bresc-Bautier, G.
Breuil, H.
Briffault, R.
Brilliant, R.
Brockelmann, C. Brodie, T. L.
Broek, R. van den
Brooten, B. J.
Broshi, M.
Brown, C. M.
Brown, R. E.
Browne, C. G.
Brueggemann, W.
Brunner, H.
Buber, S.
Buchanan, G. W.
Buchholz, H.-G.
Budd, P. J.
Budge, E. A. W.
Buhl, F.
Buisson, R. du Mesnil du
Bultmann, R.
Bunn, J. T.
Burkert, W.
Burkolter-Trachsel, M.
Burland, C.
Burn, L.
Burns, J. T.
Burns, R. J.
Burton, T.
Busch, H.
Busch, P.
Busi, G.
Butcher, K.
Buxton, A. F.
Byatt, A.

Cahn, H. A.
Caldwell, J. P.
Callaway, J. A.
Calmes, P. Th.
Campbell, E. F.
Campbell, J.
Campbell, J. A.
Campbell, L. A.
Capers, A. M. V.
Caputo, P.
Caquot, A.
Carabatea, M.
Carden, K. W.
Carleton, A. P.
Carratelli, G. P.
Carson, D. A.
Carus, P.
Caruso, A.
Casazza, O.
Cassuto, U.
Castleden, R.
Caton, R.
Cau, J.
Cazelles, H.
Cazenave, M.
Cazier, P.
Champeaux, Gérard de
Champlin, E.
Chantraine, P.
Chapman, R. L. III
Charitonidou, A.
Charles, R. H.
Charlesworth, A.
Charlesworth, J. H.
Chavel, C. B.
Cherry, J.
Chevalier, J.
Cheyne, T. K.
Chiocchio, N.
Chipiez, C.
Chotaš, N.
Chouraqui, A.
Christ, C. P.
Cioffari, G.
Cipriani, M.
Clairmont, C. W.
Clark, R. T. R.
Clarke, A.
Clarke, E. G.
Clarke, H.
Clarus, I.
Claudius, M.
Clermont-Ganneau, C.
Cline, E. H.
Clines, D. J. A.
Cobbing, F.
Coborn, J.
Cogan, M.
Cohen, H.
Cohen, H. R.
Cohen, S. J. D.
Cole, D. P.
Collins, J. B.
Collins, J. J.
Colpe, C.
Colson, F. H.
Comfort, P. W.
Conrady, K. O.
Cook, A. B.
Cook, C.
Cook, S. A.
Cook, W. R.
Cooper, J. C.
Cooper, W. R.
Coppens, J.
Cornfeld, G.
Corowa, J.
Cory, H.
Couffignal, R.
Coulanges, N. D. F. de
Cousins, T.
Coxe, A. C.
Crafts, W.
Crombie, F.
Cross, F. M.
Crossan, D.
Crum, W. E.
Culpepper, R. A.
Cumont, F.
Cundall, D.
Curtis, V. S.

Dahan, H.
Dahlinger, S.-C.
Dahood, M.
D’Alberto, P.
Dalman, G.
D’Alviella, G.
D’Ambrosio, A.
Daniélou, J.
Darnell, D. R.
Darrow, W.
Darwin, C.
Davies, E. W.
Davies, L. G.
Davison, H. R. E.
Day, E. E.
Day, J.
De Borchgrave, H.
De Caro, S.
De Carolis, E.
Deferrari, R. J.
Degeorge, G.
Deimel, A.
Delivorrias, A.
Deiss, J. J.
Del Verme, M.
Denis, A.-M.
Deonna, W.
De Pury, A.
De Simone, A.
De Simone, G. F.
Dettwiler, A.
Dever, W. G.
Dibelius, M.
Dickie, A. C.
Diel, P.
Diény, J.-P.
Dieterich, A.
Dietrich, M.
Díez Macho, A.
Dillmann, A.
Dinkler, E.
Dodd, C. H.
Dods, M.
Dorival, G.
Dörner, F. K.
Dorsey, G. A.
Dothan, T.
Douglas, M.
Drazin, I.
Driver, S. R.
Drubbel, A.
Duff, J. D.
Duke, P. D.
Dümotz, I.
Dunand, F.
Dunbabin, K. M. D.
Dunbar, H.
Duncan, J. G.
Dunn, F. M.
Durando, F.
Duval, R.
Dvorjetski, E.

Edelmann, G.
Edelstein, E. J.
Edelstein, L.
Edridge, T. A.
Egli, H.
Ehrensperger, K.
Ehresmann, D. L.
Eisenberg, J. M.
Eissfeldt, O. E.
Eldredge, L.
Eliade, M.
Eliot, A.
Elkins, J.
Ellinger, W. W.
Ellis, P.
Elsner, J.
Emerton, J. A.
Empereur, J.-Y.
Engnell, I.
Erlenmeyer, H.
Erlenmeyer, M.-L.
Erman, A.
Ernst, J.
Ernst, U.
Eshel, Y.
Esser, A.
Etheridge, J. W.
Evans, A.

Fabry, H.-J.
Fahmüller, E.
Fairclough, H. R.
Falkenstein, A.
Fanuli, A.
Farnell, L. R.
Farnoux, B. C.
Fauth, W.
Feldman, L. H.
Feliks, J.
Fenner, F.
Fensham, F. C.
Ferber, M.
Fergusson, J.
Ferreira, J.
Ferwerda, R.
Fewkes, J. W.
Field, F.
Figueras, P.
Filtzinger, Ph.
Finkel, I. L.
Fischle, W. H.
Fishwick, D.
Fitzgerald, G. M.
Fitzmyer, J. A.
Flamarion, E.
Fletcher, W.
Flusser, D.
Flynn, T.
Foerster, G.
Foerster, W.
Follis, E. R.
Fontana, D.
Fontenrose, J. E.
Forbes Irving, P. M. C.
Ford, J. N.
Forman, B.
Forman, W.
Fossum, J.
Foster, B.
Foster, B. O.
Fotopoulos, F.
Foucart, P.
Fowler, D.
Fowler, H. N.
Fox, C.
France, P.
Franke, P. R.
Frankfort, H.
Frankfort, H. A.
Fraser, P. M.
Frayne, D. R.
Frazer, J. G.
Fredrikson, N. I.
Freed, D. E.
Freedman, D. N.
Freedman, H.
Fremersdorf, F.
Fretheim, T.
Freund, R. A.
Frey, J.
Fritsche, H.
Fritze, H. von
Fröbe-Kapteyn, O.
Frohlich, Th.
Frothingham, A. L.
Fujita, S.
Füssli, J. H.

Gabelmann, H.
Gabler, J. P.
Gagnon, C.
Gall, A. F. von
Ganszyniec (Ganshinietz), R.
Gants, T.
Garbini, G.
Gardiner, A.
Gardiner, E.
Gardner, J.
Gardner, J. F.
Gardner-Smith, P.
Garfinkel, Y.
Garstang, J.
Garstang, J. B. E.
Gasc, J.-P.
Gaster, T. H.
Geffcken, J.
Gehman, H. S.
Gehring, A.
Gelb, I. J.
Geller, M. J.
Geller, S. A.
Geny, E.
Georgoula, E.
Gerhard, H.
Gerlo, A.
Gersht, R.
Geva, H.
Geva, S.
Ghazal, E.
Gheerbrant, A.
Ghinozzi, M. A.
Ghirshman, R.
Giancristofaro, E.
Gibson, S.
Giebel, M.
Giedion, S.
Gifford, E. H.
Gimbutas, M.
Gingrich, F. W.
Ginsburger, M.
Ginzberg, L.
Girard, M.
Girard, R.
Gitin, S.
Gitter, S.
Gittlen, B. M.
Giveon, R.
Glay, M. le
Gleb, I. J.
Glock, A. E.
Glowacki, K.
Glunk, F.
Gmelin, H.
Godet, F. L.
Gočva, Z.
Godley, A. D.
Goedicke, H.
Goff, B. L.
Goggin, T. A.
Golan, A.
Golowin, S.
Gombrich, E. H.
Goodenough, E. R.
Goodison, L.
Goodside, V.
Goppelt, L.
Gordon, C. H.
Gordon, R. L.
Gordon, R. P.
Gorelick, L.
Görg, M.
Gosse, B.
Graetz, H.
Graf, K. H.
Grant, E.
Grant, M.
Grapow, H.
Graves, R.
Gray, G. B.
Gray, J.
Graziosi, P.
Greaves, S. W.
Greco, C.
Green, A.
Green, M. J.
Greene, H. W.
Greenfield, J. C.
Greenspahn, F. E.
Greifenhagen, F. V.
Gressmann, H.
Griffin, J.
Grimal, P.
Grose, D. F.
Grossfeld, B.
Gruenthaner, M. J.
Grundmann, W.
Gruppe, O.
Gubernatis, A. de
Guénon, R.
Guglielmo, L.
Gunkel, H.
Gunn, C. D.
Güterbock, H. G.
Guy, P. L. O.

Haage, B. D.
Haast, W. E.
Habel, N.
Habsburg, G. von
Hachlili, R.
Haddan, A. W.
Haenchen, E.
Haerninck, E.
Hahn, F.
Halliday, W. R.
Halsberghe, G. H.
Hamilton, M.
Hamilton, V. P.
Hammond, C.
Hammond, N. G. L.
Hampton-Cook, E.
Hanfmann, G. M. A.
Hanke, M.
Hansmann, L.
Hanson, J. S.
Haran, M.
Harden, D. B.
Harder, M. A.
Hare, D. R. A.
Harl, K. W.
Harl, M.
Harmon, A. M.
Harrison, R. K.
Hastings, J.
Haupt, P.
Hawkes, J.
Hawkins, J. B. H.
Hawley, W. C.
Hayes, J. W.
Hayes, L. N.
Heinz-Mohr, G.
Helck, W.
Hendel, R. S.
Henderson, J. L.
Hengel, M.
Henry, M.-L.
Hentschel, G.
Hentze, C.
Herbert, E. D.
Hercher, R.
Herder, A.
Herrmann, F.
Herzog, Z.
Higgins, R.
Higgs, P.
Hirmer, M.
Hirsch, S. R.
Hirschen, J.
Hocquenghem, A. M.
Hodges, E. R.
Hofinger, M.
Hofius, O.
Hofrichter, P. L.
Holland, T. A.
Holloway, S. W.
Holly, M. A.
Holmberg, U.
Holter, K.
Holzinger, H.
Hood, R. W.
Hoofien, J. H.
Hoorn, G. van
Hopfe, L. M.
Horgan, M. P.
Hornung, E.
Hough, W.
Houlihan, P. F.
Houziaux, A.
Howey, M. O.
Hrouda, B.
Hummel, J.
Humphreys, D.
Humphries, R.
Hunger, K. H.
Hunt, R.
Hurd, J. C.
Hutter, M.
Huxley, F.
Hvidberg, F.

Iliffe, J. H.
Illyricus, M. F.
Infusino, G.
Insler, S.
Irmscher, J.
Isaacs, R. H.
Israeli, Y.
Jackson, B.
Jackson, R.
Jacobs, A.
Jacoby, F.
Jagersma, H.
Jakobsson, O.
James, E. O.
James, F. W.
Japelli, F.
Jaroš, K.
Jashemski, W. F.
Jayne, W. A.
Jechielis, N.
Jeffers, J. S.
Jeremias, A.
Jidejian, N.
Jobling, D.
Joger, U.
Johnson, B.nn
Johnson, D. J.
Johnson, M. D.
Johnson, S. B.
Joines, K. R.
Jonas, H.
Jonas, S.
Jones, C.
Jones, H. L.
Jones, H. S.
Jones, N.
Jones, R. N.
Jones, W. H. S.
Jonson, B.
Jonsson, J.
Jordan, G. D.
Joüon, P.
Jowett, B.

Kaestli, J.-D.
Kahil, L.
Kaiser, O.
Kákosy, L.
Kammler, H.-C.
Kane, S. M.
Kanta, A.
Karageorghis, V.
Käsemann, E.
Katzenstein, H.
Kautzsch, E.
Keel, O.
Keil, C. F.
Keimer, L.
Kelly, H. A.
Kelm, G. L.
Kemp, F.
Kemp, W.
Kendall, T.
Kent, R. G.
Kenyon, K. M.
Kerényi, K.
Kertesz, T.
Kim, K.-R.
Kimbrough, D. L.
Kimmig, W.
King, L. W.
Kippenberg, H. G.
Kirk, G. S.
Kirschbaum, E.
Kiss, Z.
Kissane, E. J.
Kittel, G.
Kittel, R.
Kitzinger, R.
Kjellberg, L.
Klein, E.
Klein, J.
Kleve, K.
Kloner, A.
Klum, M.
Knibiehler, Y.
Koch, K.
Koehler, L.
Koenen, K.
Koester, C. R.
Koester, H.
Koh, S.
Kohut, A.
Koldewey, R.
König, K.
Konings, H.
Kossatz-Deissman, A.
Kovacs, M. G.
Kozloff, A. P.
Kraft, R.
Kramer, S. N.
Kramp, W.
Krappe, A. H.
Kraus, H.-J.
Krauskopf, I.
Krekoukias, D.
Kreutz, H.
Kreuz, L.
Krige, E. J.
Krishna, G.
Kriss-Rettenbeck, L.
Kristensen, W. B.
Krodel, G.
Kroha, T.
Kronholm, T.
Krumm, A.
Krzyszkowska, O.
Kübel, P.
Küchler, M.
Kuenen, A.
Kunina, N.
Kunz, B.
Kunze, M.
Kurth, D.
Küster, E.
Kutscher, E. Y.

La Barre, W.
Lagrange, M.-J.
Laisné, C.
Lake, K.
Lamon, R. S.
Lamouille, A.
Lampe, G. W. H.
Lance, H. D.
Landay, J. M.
Lane, E. W.
Lang, M.
Langdon, S.
Lange, A.
Lantinga, C.
Lapatin, K. D. S.
Last, H.
Laubscher, H. P.
Laughlin, J. C. H.
Lavagne, H.
Law, E.
Leander, P.
Lear, E.
Leclercq, H.
Leeming, D.
Leeming, M. A.
Lehmann-Leander, E.
Leipoldt, J.
Leisegang, H.
Leitz, C.
Lemche, N. P.
Lenormant, F.
Lenz, F. W.
Léon-Dufour, X.
LePeau, J. P.
Leroy, H.
Lesêtre, H.
Leslau, W.
L’Estrange, R.
Levene, A.
Lévêque, P.
Levey, A.
Levi, D.
Levine, B. A.
Levine, L. I.
Levinson, B. M.
Lévi-Strauss, C.
Levy, R. E.
Lewis, C. T.
Lewis, J.
Lewis, N.
Liberati, A. M.
Lichnowsky, M.
Licht, H.
Lichtenberg, G. C.
Lichtenberger, H.
Lichtheim, M.
Liddell, H. G.
Liechtenhan, R.
Liepe, J.
Lindemann, A.
Lins, H. M.
Lintott, A.
Lipiński, E.
Lloyd-Russell, V.
Locher, G. W.
Loewenthal, E.
Löhr, H.
Long, B. O.
Long, C. R.
Loud, G.
Löw, I.
Löwe, G.
Lowth, R.
Lum, P.
Lurker, M.
Lutzer, E. W.
Lutz-Ruoff, E.
Luyster, A.
Luz, C.
Lyle, J.

Maarsingh, B.
Macalister, R. A. S.
MacCulloch, J. A.
MacMahon, J. H.
MacMullen, R.
MacMullen, R. G.
Mactoux, M.-M.
Mahdihassan, S.
Maher, M.
Maier, J.
Maiuri, A.
Majdalawi, F.
Malaise, M.
Malandra, W. W.
Maldacea, G.
Malina, B. J.
Malkin, I.
Maloney, L. M.
Mancinelli, F.
Maneschg, H.
Mann, A. T.
Mann, J.
Manor, D. W.
Ma’oz, J.
Marcus, R.
Mare, W. H.
Margulies, A.
Maringer, J.
Markevitch, V.
Marrs, R. R.
Martin, J.
Martin, R. P.
Martinek, M.
Mason, F.
Mason, S.
Matchett, F.
Mateos, J.
Matson, F. R.
Matthäus, H.
Mattison, C.
Matz, G.
Maulucci, F. P.
Mautner, F. H.
May, H. G.
Mazahéri, A.
Mazar, A.
Mazar, B.
McCaffrey, K.
McCasland, S. V.
McDonald, L. M.
McGovern, P. E.
McKenzie, R.
McLeish, K.
McNamara, M.
Mcphee, I.
Meeks, W.
Meier-Seethaler, C.
Meissner, B.
Mercer, S. A. B.
Merguet, H.
Merhav, R.
Merkelbach, R.
Merkle, M.
Merleau-Ponty, M.
Merrill, S.
Mertz, B. A.
Meshorer, Y.
Messadié, G.
Meurger, M.
Meyer, L. de
Meyers, C.
Michailidou, A.
Michalowski, K.
Milani, C.
Milburn, R.
Mildenberg, L.
Miele, M.
Milgrom, J.
Milleker, E. J.
Miller, F. J.
Miller, P. D.
Milton, J.
Minton, W. M.
Miroschedji, P. de
Mishor, M.
Moberly, R. W. L.
Moeller, W. O.
Montanari, G. B.
Montebello, P. de
Montet, P.
Montgomery, J. A.
Moore, M. B.
Moore, W.
Morgenstern, J.
Morgenthaler, R.
Morris, C.
Morris, J. B.
Morris, L.
Morris, P.
Moussaieff, S.
Mowinckel, S.
Muenchow, C. A.
Muhly, J. D.
Müller, H.-P.
Müller-Karpe, H.
Mullins, R. A.
Mundkur, B.
Muraoka, T.
Muratore, S.
Murison, R. G.
Murray, O.
Mussies, G.
Myres, J. L.

Naveh, J.
Negev, A.
Néret, G.
Nestle, E.
Netzer, E.
Newton, D.
Nicholson, E. W.
Nickelsburg, G. W. E.
Nicklas, T.
Niehr, H.
Nilsson, M. P.
Nissenson, M.
Niwiński, A.
Nixon, L.
Nock, A. D.
Norden, E.
Norin, S. I. A.
North, J.
Noth, M.
Nowell, I.
Nuesner, J.
Nunn, J. F.
Nur, A.

Oakes, M.
O’Connor, M.
O’Day, G.
Oden, R. A.
Oldham, C. F.
Olson, D. T.
Omodeo, A.
O’Neill, J. P.
Onians, J.
Oren, E. D.
Ornan, T.
Orr, D. G.
Osten, H. H. von der
Oswalt, J. N.
Ott, U.
Owen, A. S.

Pack, F.
Pagano, M.
Page, J.
Page, S. H. T.
Pagels, E.
Pallat, L.
Palmer, W. M.
Pancaro, S.
Panofsky, E.
Paoletti, O.
Papadakis, T.
Parássoglou, G. M.
Pardee, D.
Paris, A.
Parker, R.
Parrinder, G.
Partida, E. C.
Patai, R.
Patte, D.
Patterson, R.
Paul, M. J.
Paulsen, H.
Paul-Stengel, C.
Payne Smith, R.
Peck, A. L.
Pelikas, Y.n
Pelton, R. W.
Percival, H. R.
Perls, H.
Perrot, G.
Peters, F. E.
Peters, J. A.
Petersen, W. L.
Pfäfflin, F.
Phillips, E. A.
Piankoff, A.
Piccione, P. A.
Piccirillo, M.
Picot, J.-P.
Pietrzykowski, M.
Piggott, S.
Plant, R.
Platon, N.
Pollitt, J. J.
Pomerantz, I.
Pontrandolfo, A.
Pope, M.
Porada, E.
Powell, J. E.
Preisendanz, K.
Preisigke, F.
Preston, P.
Preuss, J.
Preuss, K. T.
Price, S. R. F.
Priest, J. E.
Prigent, P.
Pritchard, J. B.
Probatake, T. M. See Provatakis, T. M.
Procksch, D. O.
Provatakis (Probatake), T. M.
Provera, M.
Puech, E.
Purcell, N.

Qimron, E.
Quispel, G.

Rackham, H.
Rad, G. von
Räisänen, H.
Rambova, N.
Ramsey, G. W.
Ravenna, H.
Ravnizky, Y. H.
Ray, J. D.
Réau, L.
Rebiger, W.
Reeve, M. D.
Reich, R.
Rein, E.
Reinach, S.
Rengstorff, K. H.
Renz, B.
Rettig, J. W.
Reuss, E. G. E.
Richardson, H. N.
Ricoeur, P.
Ridgway, B. S.
Ridley, M.
Ringgren, H.
Risegato, G.
Ritner, R. K.
Ritter, H.
Rixens, A.
Robbins, V. K.
Robert, M. L.
Roberts, D. H.
Roberts, J. J. M.
Roberts, K. L.
Roberts, M. J., n
Robertson, A.
Robinson, E.
Robinson, J. A. T.
Röder, B.
Rohde, E.
Roitman, A.
Romestin, H. de
Römheld, K. F. D.
Rondelet, G.
Ronecker, J.-P.
Rose, W.
Rosenberg, A.
Rosenthal, R.
Rosner, F.
Ross, J. F.
Rostovtzeff, M.
Rosumek, P.
Rothenberg, B.
Roveri, A. M.
Rowe, A.
Rowley, H. H.
Ruckstuhl, E.
Rudwin, M.
Rummel, S.
Rumpel, I.
Ruppert, L.
Ruspoli, M.
Russell, J. B.
Rüttimann, R. J.
Ryle, H. E.

Sabri Kolta, K.
Sailer, C.
Sakenfeld, K. D.
Salapata, G.
Salmond, S. D. F.
Sälzle, K.
Samek-Ludovici, S.
Samonà, G. A.
Sancassano, M. L.
Sanders, E. P.
Sanders, N. K.
Sandys, J.
Sandys-Wunsch, J.
Saraceni, J. E.
Sasson, J. M.
Sauer, G.
Sauneron, S.
Sawyer, D.
Sawyer, J. F. A.
Scaramuzza, G.
Schachermeyr, F.
Schaeffer, C. F.-A.
Schäfer, J.
Scharbert, J.
Schaten, S.
Schechter, H.
Schick, C.
Schiek, S.
Schiffman, L.
Schlatter, A.
Schmidt, E.
Schmidt, K.
Schmidt, M.
Schmidthüs, H.
Schmökel, H.
Schnackenburg, R.
Schnalke, T.
Schober, A.
Schökel, L. A.
Scholfield, A. F.
Schoske, S.
Schouten, J.
Schramm, A.
Schreckenberg, H.
Schroer, S.
Schubert, K.
Schuller, E. M.
Schulz, R.
Schürer, E.
Schwartz, D.
Schweitzer, A.
Scott, E. F.
Scott, R.
Scott, R. B. Y.
Scott, W.
Scott, W. R.
Scullard, H. H.
Sed, N.
Seebas, H.
Seel, O.
Seewald, R.
Seger, J. D.
Seidel, M.
Selheim, C.
Sellin, E.
Sethe, K.
Seybold, K.
Shalit, L.
Shanks, H.
Sharma, A.
Shatzman, I.
Shaw, J. F.
Shifra, S.
Shiloh, Y.
Shipton, G. M.
Short, C.
Shuker, K.
Shulman, D.
Siettos, G.
Sigrist, M.
Silberman, L. H.
Silburn, L.
Simoens, Y.
Simon, E.
Simon, M.
Simons, J.
Simpson, D.
Sirpettino, M.
Sivan, R.
Siviero, R.
Skinner, J.
Slayton, J. C.
Slee, M.
Slifkin, N.
Sloyan, G.
Smart, N.
Smit, D. I. O.
Smith, D. M.
Smith, G. E.
Smith, J. Z.
Smith, L. C.
Smith, M.
Smith, R.
Smith, W. R.
Snaith, N. H.
Sobel, H.
Soden, W. von
Sokoloff, M.
Spaer, M.
Spearman, D.
Speiser, E. A.
Spencer, W. G.
Sperber, A.
Spitzer, F.n
Squire, C.
Stager, L.
Stählin, O.
Stallman, R. C.
Stanford, P.
Staubli, T.
Stauropoulos, S. G.
St. Clair, G.
Steck, O. H.
Steckeweh, H.
Steger, L.
Steinberg, A. Z.
Steingass, F.
Sterckx, S.
Stern, E.
Sterzi, C.
Steve, P. M.-A.
Stevens, K. G.
Stewart, Z.
Stichel, R.
Stiebing, W. H.
Stillwell, D.
St. John, J. A.
Stoll, H. A.
Störk, L.
Stothert, R.
Strauss, H.
Strawn, B.
Strommenger, E.
Strugnell, J.
Stupperich, R.
Sturdy, J.
Sundwall, J.
Swallow, J. E.
Swanson, R. J.
Sznycer, M.

Tabick, J.
Tadmor, H.
Talmon, S.
Talshir, D.
Tarragon, J.-M. de
Tarrant, D.
Tate, M. E.
Tatum, W. B.
Taylor, A. E.
Taylor, G.
Taylor, J. V.
Tebben, J. R.
Terrien, S.
Testa, P. E.
Tetzlaff, I.
Theissen, G.
Thelwall, S.,
Theobald
Theotekni, Sister
Thiersch, H.
Thomas, D. W.
Thompson, S.
Thüsing, W.
Tollers, V. L.
Topsell, E.
Torelli, M.
Torrance, D. W.
Torrance, T. F.
Tov, E.
Townsend, J. T.
Traunecher, C.
Treu, U.
Trever, J. C.
Tristan, F.
Trombley, F. R.
Tsafrir, Y.
Tucker, G. M.
Turcan, R.
Turner, A. K.
Turner, H. E. W.
Tushingham, A. D.
Tybout, R. A.
Typwhitt, R. S. J.

Uehlinger, C.
Ullmann, M.
Ulrich, E.
Unruh, F.
Urbach, E. E.

Valcanover, F.
Van Buren, E. D.
Van den Branden, A.
Van den Brink, E. C. M.
VanGemeren, W. A.
van Henten, J. W.
Vasilakis, A. Sp.
Vasse, Y.
Vaughan, H.
Vaulx, J. de
Vaux, R. de
Vermaseren, M. J.
Verschueren, J.
Vetters, H.
Vian, F.
Vincent, H.
Vincent, P. H.
Virolleaud, C.
Visser, G. E.
Visser, M. W. de
Vitt, L. J.
Vogel, J. P.
Vogelsanger-de Roche, I.
Voss, R.
Vriezen, Th. C.

Wacht, M.
Waele, F. J. M. de
Wake, C. S.
Walker, A. S.
Walker, S.
Wallace-Hadrill, A.
Walters, H. B.
Waltke, B. K.
Walton, F. R.
Warburg, A. M.
Ward, W. A.
Warren, C.
Watson, W. G. E.
Way, A. S.
Weber, T.
Weber, W.
Weder, H.
Weinberg, G. D.
Weinfeld, M.
Welcker, F. G.
Wellhausen, J.
Wells, S.
Wengst, K.
Wenham, G.
Wénin, A.
Wenning, R.
West, J. A.
West, M. L.
Westcott, B. F.
Westendorf, W.
Westenholz, J. G.
Westermann, C.
Westropp, H. M.
Wevers, J. W.
Whitaker, G. H.
Whitaker, R. E.
Whitehouse, D.
Whiteley, D.
Whitfield, R.
Wiesel, E.
Wiggerman, F. A. M.
Wilckens, U.
Wildberger, H.
Wildung, D.
Will, E.
Williams, A. J.
Williams, F.
Williams, J. G.
Williams, N. P.
Williams-Forte, E.
Williamson, H. G. M.
Wilson, H. A.
Wilson, L. S.
Winter, U.
Wintermute, O. S.
Wiseman, D. J.
Wittkower, R.
Wolde, E. van
Wolf, H.-J.
Wrede, W.
Wright, G. E.
Wyly, J.
Wytzes, J.

Yadin, Y.
Yamauchi, E. W.
Yardeni, A.
Yeivin, Z.
Yonge, C. D.
Young, B.
Young, D.
Young, E. J.

Zaehner, R. C.
Zahlhaas, G.
Zahn, T.
Zamanou, M.
Zani, L.
Zanker, P.
Zepf, M.
Ziebritzki, H.
Zimmer, H.
Zimmerli, W.
Zimniok, K.
Zor, M.
Zschietzschmann, W.
Zug, G. R.
Zukermandel, M. S.
Zumstein, J.
Zuntz, G.
Index of Ancient Sources

Ancient Extra-Canonical Sources

Egyptian Book of the Dead

Egyptian Pyramid Texts

Utterance
Utterance

Enuma Elish

Epic of Gilgamesh
Tablet

The Potter’s Oracle (Egyptian)

The Shipwrecked Sailor (Egyptian)

Ugaritic Texts
CTA 3.III.37–38
KTU 1.100 (=RS 1992.2014)
KTU 1.107
KTU 1.3.III.41–42
KTU 1.5.I.1–3
KTU 1.5.I.27–30
RS 15.134
RS 24.244
RS 24.251
UT 62.50
UT 67.I.1
 UT 67.I.12

Hebrew Bible (Old Testament)

Genesis
1–2
1–3
1–4
1–11 570
1:1–2:4
1:21
1:24
1:26
2
2–3
2:4
2:4a
2:4b
2:4b–3:1
2:4b–3:24
2:4b–4:26
2:7
2:8
2:8–9
2:9
2:10–14
2:14–15
2:15
2:15–23
2:16–17
2:17
2:18
2:19
2:19–20
2:20
2:23
2:24
2:25
3
3:1
3:1–5
3:1–7
3:1–13
3:1–23
3:3
3:4
3:5
3:6
3:6–7
3:7
3:8
3:9–12
3:10
3:10–11
3:11
3:12
3:13
3:14
3:14–15
 3:15
3:16
3:17
3:17–19
3:19
3:20
3:21
3:22
3:22–24
3:23
3:24
4
6
7:21
12:3
15:18
26
26:22
42:18–26
49:15
49:17

Exodus
4:1
4:3
4:5
7:9
7:12
7:15
16:20
 16:34
20:1–17
20:3–6
20:4
20:4–5
29:14
49:17

Leviticus
4:12
4:21
11
11:20–23
11:29
11:29–30
11:29–38
11:30
11:41–42
11:41–43
13:52
13:55
16:27

Numbers
1–20
2:8–9
9 3999:12
11:1–2
13–14
17:25
 19:5
20:22–29
21
21:3–9
21:4–9
21:5–7
21:6
21:6–7
21:6–9
21:7
21:8
21:8–9
21:9

Deuteronomy
2:2–3
4:2
5:6–21
5:7–10
5:8
7:5
7:25
8:15
9:21
12:3
13:16
19:21
21:1–9
32:1–43
32:4
 32:24
32:33
33:22

Joshua
2–6
11:6
11:13
15:11

Judges
11:40
18:29
18:30

1 Samuel
11:1
14:11

1 Kings
1:9
6:23–28
11:36
12:29–30
15:4
18:17–46

2 Kings
1:2
8:19
16:4
 18
18:1–4
18:3
18:4
18:22
20:5
23:7

Nehemiah
2:13

Job
3:8
7:12
9:13
9:13–14
10:14
20:14
20:16
26:12–13
26:13
30:6
40:20
40:25 [41:1]
40:25–41:26
40:31 [41:7]
436 41:1

Psalms
1
8:5[4]
18:28
19:10
22
24
27:1
31:6
36:10[9]
51–100
58:4–5
58:5[4]
58:5–6
60–150
68[67]
68[67]:3[2]
68[67]:16
68[67]:16–17
68[67]:22[21]
68[67]:23[22]
68[67]:25[24]
68[67]:25[24]–26[25]
68[67]:30[29]
74
74:13
74:13–14
74:14
74:15
78:68
87:4
 89:10
89:11
91
91:13
91:33
104:20
104:24–26
104:25
104:31
118
119:105
128:3
132
132:13
136:1
140
140:4[3]
145:13–14
145:14
148:7
148:10

Proverbs
12
12:16
23:31
23:31–32
23:32
30:6
30:18–19
 30:19

Ecclesiastes
10:8

Song of Songs
1:15
2:11–12
4:1
5:12
7:4

Isaiah
1–39
1:8
2:3–4
2:8
5
6
6:2
6:2–6
6:2–7
6:5
6:5–7
6:7
11
11:6–8
11:8
14:3
14:22
 14:23
14:28
14:28–30
14:29
15:28
17:8
17:10
24:7
27:1
30:6
30:22
31:7
34:15
40–55
42:14
44:27
51:9
51:9–11
52:13
56–66
59:5
65:25

Jeremiah
2:6
8:7
8:17
21:10
32:29
43:12–13
 46:22

Lamentations
4:5

Ezekiel
1
8:14
29:3
43:21

Daniel
7:13
7:13–14
12:2

Amos
5:19
9:3

Jonah
2:1

Micah
7:17

Nahum
3:13 [12]

Old Testament Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

Apocalypse of Abraham
10:12
21:4

Apocalypse of Elijah
5:33

Apocalypse of Moses
16:1–5
16–17

Bel and the Dragon

Book of the Giants

Enoch
1 En
1 En 60:7
1 En 37–71
1 En 91
1 En 93

Jubilees
3:23
16

Lives of the Prophets

12:13

Prayer of Jacob
8
Psalms of Solomon
14

Pseudo-Philo
13:8

Pseudo-Phocylides
Sirach
10:11
21:2
25:15

Testament of Abraham
14
17

Vita Adae et Evae

33:1–3
33:3
37:1–3
37:3
40:1
42:1

Wisdom of Solomon
2:23–24
2:24
6:1–7:30
15:6
16
16:5
 16:6
16:6–7
16:7
16:13

2 Baruch
29:1–8

3 Baruch
5:3

4 Ezra
6:50–52

4 Maccabees
18:8

New Testament

Matthew
2:16
3:7
7:6
10
10:16
12
12:24
12:34
15:26–27
23:29
 23:30–31
23:33
23:37

Mark
8:31
9:31
10:32–33
10:39
16:6
16:9–20
16:18

Luke
1:1–4
3:7
9:3
10
10:19
11:11
13:34
16:21
18:25

John
1
1:1
1:1–18
1:14
1:17
1:29
1:29–42
1:45
1:51
2:11
2:21–22
2:23
3
3:1
3:2
3:3
3:4
3:7
3:12
3:12–15
3:13
3:13–15
3:13–16
3:13–21
3:14
3:14–15
3:14–16
3:14–21
3:15
3:16
3:19
3:22–30
3:36
4:10
4:15
4:54
5
5:1–2
5:2
5:19–47
5:21
5:24
5:25
5:26
5:31–47
5:40
6:16–21
6:37
6:40
6:47
7:19
7:27
7:38
7:50–52
7:53–8:11
8:12
8:28
8:44
9:27
9:28
9:29
9:35–37
10:10
11:25
11:25–26
11:26
11:50
11:54
12
12:20–26
12:32–33
12:32–34
12:33
12:35–36
12:41
13:1
13:21
13:23
13:31–32
14:6
15:16
15:24
17:17
19:2
19:6
19:12–16
19:14
19:15
19:18
19:20
19:23
19:26–27
 19:35
19:38–42
20
20:9
20:11–18
20:15
20:17
20:18
20:29
20:31
21
21:22–23

Acts
2:33
5:31
10:12
11:6
11:16
28:1–6
28:3
28:4
28:4–6
28:6

Romans
1:23
3:13
7–8
1 Corinthians
10:3
10:9

2 Corinthians
11:1–5
11:2–3
11:3

Philippians
3:20

Titus
1:2

Hebrews
6:18

James
3:7

Revelation
1:8
4
9:19
9:20
12
12:1–6
12:3
12:4
12:7
 12:7–9
12:9
12:13
12:16
12:17
13:1
13:2
13:4
13:11
16:13
17:3
20:1–3
20:2
21:6
22:13
22:15

New Testament Apocrypha

Acts of Andrew

Acts of John
69–77
94

Acts of John at Rome

Acts of John by Prochorus

Acts of Peter
Acts of Philip
8:94

Acts of Thomas
31–33
109:31

Apocalypse of Paul

Apocalypse of the Virgin

Apocryphon of John
12:9
20:2

Arabic Gospel of the Infancy of the Savior

Didache

Epistle of Barnabas

9:8
12
12:5
12:5–7
12:6
12:7

First Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus Christ

23
Genuine Acts of Peter
Gospel of Bartholomew

Gospel of Nicodemus
1:1–2

Gospel of Thomas
39

Hypothetical Sources of Jesus Tradition(s)

Sayings Source (“Q”)

Signs Source

Assyrian Sources

Annals of Tiglath-pileser I
2.76–77

Esarhaddon Annals

Persian Sources

Vendidad
11.21

Avesta, Yasht
19.36–37

Ancient Greek Sources

Aeschylus Agamemnon
 11233

Aeschylus Choephori
249

Alexander Voyage Round the Red Sea

Alexander Romance

Aristides Apologia
12

Aristides Oratio
22
38
42
42.1–15
48.4

Aristophanes Plutus
690

Aristotle Ethica Eudemia

3.6

Aristotle Historia Animalium

487 a
488 b
508 b
558 a
591 a
 626 a
770a

Aristotle, Parts of Animals

2.17
4.1
4.11
4.13

Aristotle, Progression of Animals

4
8

Artemidorus Onirocritica
4.67

Diodorus Siculus Library of History

4.9.1–10

Epiphanius, Panarion
1.205
3.37
4.4
5.1
5.2
5.7
7.1
7.1–8.1
7.5
7.6
8.1
 8.5
25.7
48.15
61.8
66.88

Euripides, “The Children of Hercules”

898–99

Euripides Fragmenta
121

Euripides Ion

Euripides Medea
1317–22
1379–84

Herodotus Histories
2.74
2.75
2.76
3.107
3.109
4.9
4.191
8.41
9.81

Hesiod, Theogony
297
 333–35
334

Herondas, Mimiambi
4.11

Homer, Iliad
2.723
2.729
8.398
11.36–37
12
23.225

Homer, Odyssey
1.193
4.60
7.59
7.201–6
10.120
13.220
19.446

Homeric Hymns
5.218–38

Horapollon, Hierogrlyphika
1.1

Josephus, Against Apion

2.7
Josephus, Jewish Antiquities
1.1.4
1.42
1.50
3.7.2
13.396
17.5.5

Josephus, Life of Flavius Josephus

Josephus, Jewish War

3.35
5.108

Julianus, Contra Galilaeos

200A–B

Julianus, In Helium Regem

155B

Lucian, Alexander
4

Lucian, Dipsades
3

Nicander, Theriaca
258
282
327
 334
359
384
411
438
438–57
490
491

Nonnus, Dionysiaca
13

Olympiodorus, Alchemy
80.9–11

Orphic Hymns

Pammenes Concerning Wild Animals

Pherekydes

Philo of Byblos
814.21–815.13
815.18

Philostratus, Flavius, Life of Apollonius

1.20
3.44

Pindar, Olympian Odes

1.6–7
6.45
 57–71

Plato, Apology of Socrates

19

Plato, Politicus 263d

Plato, Phaedo
118

Plato, Timaeus
37d

Plutarch, Antonius
17

Plutarch, Celomenes
39

Plutarch, De Isis et Osiris

74

Plutarch, Life of Alexander

3.1–2

Plutarch, Parallel Lives

Demosthenes 18.260
Demosthenes 26.67
Demosthenes 845

Porphyry, De abstinentia
4.16
Porphyry, De philosophia ex oraculis hauriendis

Porphyry, De regressu animae

Porphyry, Epistle to Marcellus

Pseudo-Apollodorus, The Library

1.6
1.9.9
1.9.15
1.96
3.177

Pseudo-Callisthenes, Life and Deeds of Alexander of Macedonia

2.21:7–11

Sappho, Poems

Sophocles, Antigone
531

Strabo, Geography
2.1.9
15.2.7
16.4.16
17.2.2
17.3.6

Sibylline Oracles
5
5.169
Suidas, Lexicon

Xenophon, Cynegeticon
1.6

Ancient Latin Sources

Aelian, De natura animalium

1.51
2.38
4.36
6.18
6.51
8.12
8.13
9.16
9.44
10.9
10.25
11.2
11.16
11.17
12.39
15.18
16.41
16.42
17.1
17.1–4
 17.5

Artermidorus, Oniocritica
2.13

Augustus, Res Gestae

20

Aulus Cornelius Celsus, De medicina

Prooemium
2–3
5.27.1
5.27.4
5.27.8

Cicero, De natura deorum

1.6
1.82
1.101
2.124
2.129
2.70–72
3.47

Dio Cassius, Roman History

Ennius, Epicharmus

Florus
2.34.66

Galen, De libris propriis

 2

Galen, De sanitate tuenda

1.8
1.20

Galen, De simplicium medicamentorum temperamentis et facultatibus

9

Horace, Epistles
II, 1.1156–57

Horace, Carmen
3.6

Hyginus, Poetica astronomica

2
3–6

Juvenal, Satires
6.55
6.57

Livy, Ab Urbe Condita

10.47.6–7
11

Lucan, Pharsalia
9.629–55
9.357

Lucretius, De rerum natura

Macrobius, Saturnalia

Ovid, Fasti
2.250
2.258–60

Ovid, Metamorphoses
1.184
2.138
2.173–75
3.41–45
3.77–80
3.531–32
4
4.492–502
4.543
4.563–603
4.615–20
4.782–86
4.794–803
5.642–44
7.212
7.219–23
15
15.389
15.654–59
15.658–62

Ovid, Tristia
 4.7.1–26

Pausanias, Descriptio Graecia

2.10.3
39.3

Philumenus, De Venenatis Animalibus

16.1
19
21
22.1

Pliny the Elder, Natural History

7.172
8
10.84
29.4
29.21
29.22
29.71

Pliny the Younger, Letters

6.20

Servius, Commentary on Virgil’s Georgics

1.205

Seutonius, The Twelve Caesars

Tacitus, Histories
2.78
 3.86

Varro, 5.68

Virgil, Aeneid
2.42–47
5.83
6.288
7.341–77
7.785
12.869–86

Early Jewish, Mishnaic, Talmudic, Rabbinic, and Related Texts

Avodah Zarah
3:4
30b

b. Baba Batra
16b
17a
74b–75a

b. Berakot
5:1
9a
62b

b. Niddah
23a
b. Qiddushin
29b

b. Sanhedrin
37b
59b

b. Shabbat
133b

b. Yoma
75a

Copper Scroll

Damascus Document (=CD)

MS A 8.8–12a
MS A 8.10
12.12
19.15

Genesis Rabbah
7:4
10:7
21:9

Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers

12:31

Isaiah Scroll (1QIsa)

j. Berakot
 1.3

j. Sanhedrin
10.29c

j. Ta’anit
4.69a

Ladder of Jacob
6:1
6:13

m. Berakot
62b

m. Ketubot
72a

m. Psalms
2
23:7

m. Rabbah Bereshith
20.5

m. Rabbah Ecclesiastes

m. Rosh Hashanah
3
3.8

m. Tehillim
 Mekilta to Exodus
17:11

Mekilta R. Yishmael

Perek Shirah

Pesher Isaiah

Philo of Alexandria, De agricultura

22
94
94–98
95
108

Philo of Alexandria, Legum Allegoriae

2
2.20
2.53
2.71–74
2.76–79

Philo of Alexandria, Questions and Answers on Genesis

1.32
1.33

Pseudepigraphic Psalms
4Q
Frg. 3.1
 4Q
Frg. 1.10
Frg. 15.5

Rule of the Community (1QS)

8

Sefer Ha-Aggadah

Samaritan Targum

Tanhuma

Targum Neofiti

Targum Onkelos

Targum Pseudo-Jonathan

t. Beza
1.7

Temple Scroll (11QT)

61.12

Thanksgiving Hymns (1QHa)

10.28
11.12
11.17
11.18
13.27
16
 19.12

Tosephta

t. Sotah
4:17

War Scroll (1QM)

1Q19

10.10
4QpIsaa
Frg. 8–10.13

4QMysteries (4Q299)
Frg. 3a ii-b

4Q159
Frg. 1.2.17

4Q179
Frg. 1.2.12

4Q266
Frg. 3.2.2

4Q381
Frg.26.1

11QPsa
27.2–3
11QTargJob

Early Christian Sources (Greek, Latin, Syriac, Coptic)

Ambrose Of the Christian Faith

3.8.50
16.131e

Ambrose, Of the Holy Spirit

Archelaus, The Acts of the Disputation with the Heresiarch Manes

18

Arnobius, Against the Heathen

7.44

Athanasius, To the Bishops of Egypt

1.19

Athanasius, On the Incarnation of the Word

Athenagoras A Plea for the Christians

29:10

Augustine, City of God

7.23
10.8
10.16

Augustine, Homilies
36
Augustine, On Christian Doctrine
1.14.13

Augustine On Forgiveness of Sins and Baptism

1.61

Augustine, On the Gospel of St. John

12.11
12.11–13

Augustine, On the Psalms

74.4
119.122

Augustine, On the Trinity

3.10.10

Augustine, Reply to Faustus the Manichaean

12.30
14.7

Augustine, Sermons on New-Testament

Lessons
23.3

Basil, Letters 260.8

Basil, On the Spirit

14.31

Bordeaux Pilgrim, Itinerarium Burdigalense

Clement of Alexandria, Exhortation to the Heathens
2

Clement of Alexandria, Paedagogos

2.13

Clement of Alexandria, Stromata

16

Constitutions of the Holy Apostles

4.4

Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures

13.20

Diatessaron

Ephrem Syrus, Commentary on Genesis

42.18–26

Ephrem Syrus, Hymns on the Nativity

1

Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History

1.10.46

Eusebius, Life of Constantine

3.3

Eusebius, Onomasticon

Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel

1.10 (40a)
 1.10 (40c)
2.3
2.9
3.11
3.11.26
3.13

Gregory of Nazianzus, Second Oration on Easter

22

Gregory of Nyssa, On Virginity

16

Hippolytus, Elenchos
5.8
5.9
5.12
5.17

Hippolytus, Refutation of All Heresies

5.11
5.12

Hymn of the Pearl

Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Smyraeans

Irenaeus, Adversus omnes Haereses

4.2.7

Isidorus Pelusiota, Epistularum Libri

Quinque
 1.54

John Chrysostom, Homilies on Colossians

John Chrysostom, Homiles on the Gospel of John

John Chrysostom Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew

Justin Martyr, First Apology

14
22
60

Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho

89
91
92
94
112

Lactantius, Divine Institutes

1.17
3.20

Martyrdom of Ignatius
12

Odes of Solomon
11
22:5

Origen Against Celsus

 3.23
3.24
6.4

Origen, Hexapla

Pistis Sophia

Prudentius, The Origin of Sin

Pseudo-Tertullian, Against All Heresies

Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History

9.17

Syriac History of John (=History of St. John at Ephesus)

Teaching of Silvanus

Tertullian Ad Nationes
2.2

Tertullian, Apology
14
15
23
46

Tertullian, De anima
1.4
1.5

Tertullian, Five Books Against Marcion

 3.28

Tertullian, The Chaplet

8
10

Tertullian, On Idolatry

Tertullian, Treatise on the Soul

Testimony of Truth

Theodoret, Dialogues

Theodoret, Questions on Genesis

Islamic Sources

Qur’an

Epigraphic Sources

Attic Stone

Ishtar Gate

Lapidarium no. 35

marble stele, Thebes Museum

Tablet Gg, Knossos

Other Sources
Amulets

Fragments of the Greek Historians

1.25

inscription, Pompeii House

Madaba map

mosaic and inscription, Domus delle Gorgoni, Ostia Antica

Oxyrhynchus Papyri
P.Oxy. XI 1381