Resurrection in the OT, Part 10

Isaiah 25:8 and 26:14, 19

(avg. read time: 9–19 mins.)

In this penultimate entry on resurrection in the OT, the primary focus will be Isa 26:19. However, I also include two other texts here in the immediate context, as one cannot properly analyze Isa 26:19 without reference to its direct contrast in 26:14 or the dramatic framing text in 25:8 that speaks of the destruction of death, which is brought to fruition in this act of resurrection. The whole section of which these texts are a part is intriguing—the so-called “Little Apocalypse” of Isaiah—but the interpretation of this section and the contextualization of the same is fraught with so many issues that most of them will unfortunately need to remain unaddressed for our purposes here. But whatever else one can say about the context, it is clear that it is presenting an eschatological setting and so the resurrection event is an eschatological event.

This text has, of course, resonated throughout history because of its resurrection language and the vivid way in which it describes it. Like Ezek 37, it was a mainstay in early Christian expositions on resurrection in the OT (e.g., Did. apost. 20; Irenaeus, Epid. 67; Tertullian, Res. 31; Epiphanius, Pan. 64.70; Cyril of Jerusalem, Cat. Lect. 18.15). Alongside Deut 32:39, it also supplies the language of resurrection for the Second Benediction of the Amidah. It may also stand behind the imagery of 1QHa XIX, 12–13, although it is not entirely clear if that text is referring to resurrection literally or metaphorically. What is clearer is that the rabbis at multiple points used this text as a reference point for articulating resurrection belief (y. Ta‘an 1a; b. Ketub. 111a–b; b. Sanh. 90b–91b; b. Soṭah 5a; Pirq. R. El. 33).

But in order to really appreciate its impact, we must read it in light of two preceding texts: Isa 25:8 and 26:14. Isaiah 25:8 is a climactic statement of God’s power after a series of declarations of the same. What frames this is the statement in 25:1 that YHWH is worthy of exaltation and thanksgiving because he has worked wonders, plans from long ago, with complete faithfulness. The Hebrew here joins two absolute synonymous nouns that could be translated as “faithfulness” and “truth” without an intervening conjunction, which provides a more forceful statement conveyed here as “complete faithfulness.” YHWH’s power has been expressed in complete destruction (vv. 2–3) as well as being a defense for those who are otherwise helpless against enemy forces (vv. 4–5). Additionally, YHWH of Hosts will make for all peoples on Mount Zion a lavish feast (v. 6) to commemorate a victory described as YHWH “swallowing up” (the piel of בלע) the covering that envelops all the peoples, the veil stretched over all the nations (v. 7). This thing that casts a shadow over the whole world is nothing other than death itself.

While the previous use of the piel of בלע began with a ו to signify it as an irreal perfect, which most often conveys either temporal sequence or logical consequence, this use of the piel of בלע lacks an initial ו. It is possible that this was lost in the process of transmission, as this is one of the easiest letters to overlook. But given the significance of this declaration, I am inclined to think this is a case of genuine asyndeton (lacking an expected conjunction), which sets this declaration off as especially noteworthy. This unadorned use of the perfect to refer to a future event is known as the prophetic or prospective perfect. This future reference with perfective aspect represents the action as complete or independent, especially without the conjunction (which when attached to the perfect often has the function of establishing sequence or consequence, among other things). This use of the perfect has already been used at multiple points in Isaiah alone to this point (2:11; 8:23–9:1; 11:9; 19:7; 24:23; cf., e.g., Num 24:17). Rhetorically, it presents God’s swallowing up of death as if it has already happened, for it is certain that it will come to pass. Subsequent verbs in this verse are irreal perfect (establishing a sequential relationship with this first verbal clause), imperfect, and simple perfect (referring to what the Lord/YHWH has spoken), which makes this non-consecutive perfect all the more prominent.

There is, however, some textual difficulty in this statement. The LXX/OG and Theodotion take death as the subject of the verb, but the former uses an active verb to signify that death has swallowed up, and the latter uses a passive verb to signify that death has been swallowed up. Aquila and Symmachus identify death as the object and share with Theodotion the idea that God is the implied agent who swallows up death (continuing from v. 7). But where the LXX/OG identifies death as the agent, it still ends with God’s victory over death, so it appears that the translator is simply thrown off by the lack of a conjunction and the article seemingly implying that “death” is the subject. The Vulgate also differs from the LXX/OG and agrees with the other versions in implicitly identifying God as the agent who swallows up death.

But a more significant divergence appears in how to treat the prepositional phrase modifying this consuming action: לנצח. As I have noted previously, this phrase can mean “in victory” (consistent especially with the typical sense of the root in Aramaic), “in perpetuity/forever” (consistent with its use in parallel with other such terms/phrases), or “to the end/completely” (consistent with the root’s association with extremity). The LXX/OG is closest to the first sense in describing death as currently “prevailing” (ἰσχύσας). Aquila and Theodotion (as well as the Peshitta and Paul in 1 Cor 15:54) understand it more literally according to the first sense (εἰς νῖκος). The Vulgate and the Targum translate according to the second sense. Symmachus, however, translates the phrase as εἰς τέλος. This translation best fits with the last sense, but it could also work as a loose translation of the second sense. In any case, in the MT and in all other versions, the sense is one of finality, either apparent (with death as the agent in the LXX/OG) or true (with God as the agent). With God as the agent, death has met its death.

This sense of this statement will be given greater definition in the next chapter with the reference to resurrection. In no other previous text has resurrection been described as a consuming destruction of death. But here it is an especially vivid way of describing the grant of everlasting life that accompanies the resurrection of those in 26:19. It is thus an everlasting life that implies transformation (rather than a perpetual continuation of the present life) so that the resurrected now have a life without any trace of mortality, any sign of subjection to death. This sense of finality and everlastingness of consequence further establishes that we are dealing with an eschatological setting here.

With such a complete victory over death, there thus follows a promise that the Lord YHWH will wipe away tears from all faces. This promise is readily recognizable for readers of Revelation, as it is repeated in the context of new creation in Rev 21:4. The parallel to this promise is to remove the reproach of his people, which involves both the reversal of the wrath poured out on them and the vindication of the faithful. The aspect of faith that consists in waiting upon the Lord (Isa 25:9) will likewise find its ultimate realization in the fulfillment of this promise of resurrection and so there will be cause for overwhelming joy (another way of restating the consequence of God wiping away tears from all faces).

Now let us consider the second text of relevance to our analysis: 26:14. Both it and 26:19 are characterized by asyndeton, but this is a much more common feature in ch. 26. Verse 14 involves a double denial of resurrection of the condemned dead, presumably the masters that lorded over them referenced in v. 13. This double denial features two of the terms we have seen used for resurrection as the statement is that the dead will not live (חיה) and that the “deceased” (רפאים) will not rise (קום). The latter noun is often translated in such a way to refer to “shades” or departed spirits. But as I noted in my Sheol analysis, I am inclined to think that this term is simply another way of referring to the dead and not to a distinct anthropological aspect of the dead that continues existing. This also makes more sense of the verbs and the combination of the same. If the idea is to speak of departed spirits arising from the place of the dead, surely a verb like עלה would have been more suitable than קום, which typically has the sense of “rising” as in “standing.” Furthermore, in other texts where these verbs are used in conjunction as part of a resurrection reference, they describe either parallel or sequential action of a consistent subject, rather than having one verb apply to one aspect and another to the other aspect. When the dead man touches Elisha’s bones, he is said to “live/revive” and “stand up/arise” (2 Kgs 13:21). Likewise, God’s action in Hos 6:2 consists of reviving the people (חיה) and raising them or causing them to stand (קום). Relatedly, a different but synonymous verb (עמד) appears alongside חיה to describe what happens to the dead in Ezek 37:10.

Both of the verbs are simple imperfects pointing to the future. But then they are followed by an adverb, perfect, and imperfect. The adverb is not best translated as “therefore” (as the NASB and the offspring of the KJV do), but as “because” or “for indeed.” Otherwise, the implication would be that God punishes the dead as a result of or on the basis of them not rising. The switch from perfect to imperfect here is less clear to me. Perhaps we are to understand the perfect as a prophetic/prospective perfect and the imperfect as either a future or progressive (the latter does not seem especially likely though, unless the “destroying” is understood as a progressive wasting away). Or perhaps the perfect is a past perfect referring to how the punishment has already been decided with the imperfect signaling the still future consequence. Or perhaps the imperfect is a past narrative imperfect referring to something that has already happened or considered as if it has already happened. Any of these options for the imperfect are also operative for the last imperfect in the verse. But in the end, while they may affect translation, decisions on these matters do not ultimately affect the basic message about the dead-end fate of these dead ones.

That brings us to 26:19, the verse with the most direct bearing on our subject of resurrection in the OT. Interestingly, its opening is shaped in relation to v. 14 as it is the latter’s opposite. The first clause of v. 14 is a subject-verb construction while the first clause of v. 19 with the same imperfect verb and subject noun are in a verb-subject construction. The latter is the most frequent type of construction in Isaiah as the verb is fronted and the subject is only explicitly identified later, if at all. In this case, because it is in direct contrast to the less frequent construction of 26:14, the order is all the more significant. In v. 14, the statement is about the dead and what they are incapable of doing by definition: living. Yet Isaiah now announces the reversal of this state with a reversal of the word order, topicalizing the verb and removing the verbal negation. What is more, the subject noun has a second-person pronominal suffix added to specify that it is “your dead” that will live, as this promise is addressed to Israel. Depending on if the prophet is the primary speaker or YHWH is the primary speaker, this could refer to “your” dead as YHWH’s dead or as Israel’s dead.

The second clause also represents a reversal of the second clause of v. 14, but not in the same, direct way. The structure is also changed here with the fronting of the subject, which parallels v. 14b, but not 19a. Once again, this marks the reversal at the start of v. 19 with even more prominence as the foundational condition of what follows: life is given to the dead. While the terminology is different, the subject remains the same and is here described in terms of the corpses of the dead. What connects these two clauses is the same imperfect conjugation of the verb קום. In v. 14, this was essentially a reaffirmation of what we were told in the first clause, since the dead will not live, they will also not rise. But with the new construction and the removal of the negations, the asyndetic statement that the dead will live is the established condition for the more specific and concrete statement that the corpses will rise. The dead will live, which entails that the corpses will rise.

Before we move on to the next clause, a small text-critical issue of this clause should be noted concerning the suffix on “corpses.” The MT, 1QIsa[a], 4QIsa[b], and the Vulgate use “my,” while the Syriac uses “their.” The LXX omits the suffix because it uses an altogether different passive construction to say that those who are in their tombs will be raised, though this still closer in sense to the Syriac. Many scholars and translations generally emend this suffix to “their” to keep it more consistent with the first clause. Alternatively, some suggest that the sense is actually that of “your corpses,” and the suffix was either lost in transmission or the present suffix is redundant and transfers the sense of “your” from the previous verb and parallel line.¹ “My corpses” is surely more difficult in this context of parallelism, but it is not incomprehensible. Once again, this matter could be affected by who is the speaker. If it is the prophet, it is unclear why he should change from saying “your dead” to “my corpses,” which by itself would be a peculiar expression for someone to make of the corpses of his people (contrast with Ps 49:15). If YHWH is the speaker, the shift would still be peculiar, but it would make more sense, as YHWH is stating his bond with Israel in this fashion, on the one hand referring to “your dead,” but then affirming that those corpses are “mine” (i.e., “your dead are my dead”). This would also make sense of the function of this verse in giving hope in response to an apparent dead end of distress, reaffirming the often-stated hope in different language of “You will be my people and I will be your God.”

With this first sentence reversing v. 14, we now pass to a different transition. Verse 14 featured a conjugation switch from the imperfect to the perfect to imperfect to past narrative imperfect (wayyiqtol). Verse 19 in the MT instead switches to imperatives, addressing those who have undergone the actions of the first two verbs. Now that they live and have risen, God commands them to awaken and shout for joy. However, it is worth noting that the LXX and its versions (followed by the commentaries of Eusebius and Theodoret), as well as 1QIsa[a] and 4QIsa[b], all attest to an imperfect reading of these verbs. In this case, which I think is earlier, there is further elaboration on the action performed on the dead.

The first verb (קיץ), as noted before, is equivalent to the other prominent Greek verb for resurrection: ἐγείρω. Both verbs also refer to arising, but their semantic domains also include awakening from sleep. The second verb (רנן) is not a verb of resurrection but describes a response to resurrection. The first verb is a hiphil, if for no other reason than that it appears only in this stem, while the second verb is a piel. Both stems are causative, as appropriate for verbs of response caused by the events of the first sentence.

The participle (שׁכני) has a substantival function, being the subject of the imperfects or (less likely) imperatives. Most naturally, it refers to those who “dwell” in the dust, or more precisely “lie” in the dust (עפר). However, because the imperatives supply a contrastive state with the state of those addressed, it may be best to understand the sense here as referring to those who “sleep” in the dust. As noted previously, both dust and sleep were frequently associated with death and burial. The contrast of this state with the verb for “awaken” (קיץ) being used in connection with resurrection is significant for two reasons. One, while the typical verb for “sleep” is not used here, the OT—along with other Jewish and Christian texts—is distinct in how often it uses “sleep” as a reference for death. This metaphor is not unheard of outside of this sphere of texts, but it is much less common.² Two, if death and burial are described in this fashion of lying or sleeping in the dust, we are clearly referring to the repose of a body; therefore, the contrasting action of arising must be understood as bodily as well, unless we have overwhelming reason otherwise not to follow the force of the metaphor. Three, this contrast where sleep of death is followed by awakening in resurrection—another point that made the Greek equivalent ἐγείρω less popular as a verb for resurrection outside of Jewish and Christian literature—tends to divest death of its sense of finality, now being a temporary state followed by God’s raising action.

I have already noted the significance of the reference to the dawn (אור) as fitting an Isaianic motif associating light with the eschatological state. More specifically in this case, the reference is about the dew of the dawn as a symbol of God’s life-giving and life-renewing power. After all, it is a symbol associated with the nourishment of the land that comes as the darkness of the night passes away and the light comes forth. Likewise, the darkness of death and its associated realities gives way to the light of the eschaton, the day of the Lord, and its manifestation of God’s life-giving and life-renewing power in resurrection.

The last clause of the verse is grammatically difficult. If it is actually a hiphil form of נפל (usually meaning something related to “to fall”), it is an unusual use meaning something akin to “give birth.” Still, such a use would make sense in this context because the last clause of the previous verse also uses the verb in the context of childbirth imagery. Only now, the subject is the earth or land giving birth to the deceased (once again, רפאים).

In the placement on the spectrum presented in Part 9, Isa 26:19 was closer to Dan 12 than to Ezek 37 simply because several scholars still suggest that this text uses resurrection language metaphorically for national restoration. Andrew Chester finds the latter view more likely, since it is possible in light of 27:8 to understand the condition of death as exile and he thinks of 25:8 as referring to God defeating Mot, the Canaanite god of death.³ However, neither of these points is strong enough to tip the balance of probability in favor of this interpretation. The second point in particular, while intended to relate to the idolatry that led Israel into exile, cannot be definitively used in favor of one interpretation as opposed to the other, even if it is granted as it stands.

Conversely, Gerhard F. Hasel argues in favor of the literal, concrete resurrection interpretation. There are multiple points in this chapter that imply a more cosmic scope for the action and the witness of the nations of the world (vv. 9–10, 13–14, 21). In fact, v. 21 in particular is difficult to account for on the national restoration view if the earth is to uncover its slain and disclose the bloodshed on it. And while vv. 14 and 19 must be read as complements of each other, there is no obvious reason to prefer an exile interpretation for v. 14 over the more straightforward reference to death, especially when v. 19 refers to a subset of the dead (“your dead”) that will rise.⁴

Of course, as noted before, we must not dichotomize these ideas, as resurrection and the restoration of Israel belong together as part of the same constellation of expectations. But in answer to the question of if this text has a literal reference to resurrection, I think the answer is most likely affirmative. What we see here and throughout chs. 24–27, particularly in relation to the other two texts we have analyzed, is an eschatological context of transformation brought about by the action of the Divine Warrior. What we see here is what happens when the Divine Warrior turns himself against death, the inevitable result of which is that death must give way to resurrection. In the end, nothing can gainsay God’s inexorable will to enact his faithful love for the people he has promised to deliver. When this inexorable, faithful love is newly turned against challenges and enemies as it never has been before, new solutions arise, as God makes a way where there is no way. Such is fitting for the God known as the God who raises the dead.

The eschatological setting here is also a setting of judgment (24; 25:2–3, 10–12; 26:9–10, 21; 27:1)—although we never see a judgment seat in this text—which reaffirms the association of resurrection with judgment that we have seen elsewhere (although it does not come to fruition in the OT until Dan 12). We have also seen some intimations of new creation imagery that will not be more fully expressed until later in Isaiah, but such is part of the transformational cosmic context in which eschatological resurrection—i.e., resurrection to everlasting life that utterly conquers death—makes the sense that it does as an expression of God’s life-giving and life-renewing power.

1. J. J. M. Roberts, First Isaiah, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 329.

2. See particularly Marbury B. Ogle, “The Sleep of Death,” MAAR 11 (1933): 81–117.

3. Chester, “Resurrection,” 56–57.

4. Hasel, “Resurrection,” 272–75.