The Books of Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah

By James D. Nogalski

Where is the line between God’s mercy and judgment?
  
In the latest volume of the New International Commentary on the Old Testament, James D. Nogalski offers a new translation of and commentary on several of the Minor Prophets—the Books of Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah—that grapple with this theme in radically different ways. This volume includes a robust introduction for each book, delineating its textual transmission, historical context, literary form, and major themes. The introduction also discusses the role of each book within the collection of the Twelve (Minor) Prophets. The commentaries proper explain the texts verse by verse, illuminating each book’s structure and canonical significance, yet always with an eye toward pastoral application. Academically rigorous and accessibly written, The Books of Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah is an invaluable resource for scholars, students, and pastors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eerdmans
• Release date: May 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781467465700

James D. Nogalski

  James D. Nogalski is the W. Marshall and Lulie Craig Professor of Old Testament at Baylor University. He is best known for his work on the prophets, especially the Book of the Twelve.

Book preview

The Book of Joel

Introduction

I. HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

The historical background of the book of Joel is notoriously difficult to pin down with absolute certainty, as is evident below in the discussion of the date of the prophet. Nevertheless, a combination of factors has increased the number of scholars who now consider Joel to represent one of the latest prophetic books in the Nevi’im. These factors include Joel’s awareness of other biblical texts, its lack of any reference to royal personages, Joel’s concern for the implications of the threats to Jerusalem upon the temple, and the extent to which it articulates several different ideas concerning the day of Yahweh. Increasingly Joel has become recognized for a style that draws heavily upon other biblical texts, especially Exodus, Deuteronomy, Obadiah, Isaiah (or Micah), and Amos. Its frequent mention of Jerusalem (Joel 2:32; 3:1, 6, 16–17, 20 [4:1, 6, 16–17, 20]) and Zion (2:1, 15, 23; 2:32 [3:5]; 3:16–17, 21 [4:16–17, 21]), as well as the temple and its personnel, suggest that Joel reflects the message of a Persian-period prophet who worked at the temple in the middle to late Persian period.

II. UNITY OF COMPOSITION

The book of Joel has resisted scholarly attempts to explain its structure and its setting(s) from the end of the nineteenth century to the present. At this point, an exhaustive survey is neither possible nor necessary, but a selective presentation of several issues along with a brief introduction to various models of unity will help to highlight how one’s conclusions about how Joel was compiled affect the reader’s sense of the book’s coherence.¹

A. SEPARATION OF 1:1–2:17 AND 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21)

Early suggestions that Joel contains at least two discrete sections, with 1:1–2:17 distinct from 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21), left an imprint upon discussions of the unity of Joel. The work of Bernhard Duhm represents the most prominent example of these arguments.² These arguments focused upon how the expectations for the coming day of Yahweh in 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) exhibit an apocalyptic outlook that distinguishes them from the liturgical material in 1:1–2:17. The latter was delivered for a more concrete historical setting (responding to a severe locust attack). Duhm sees 1:1–2:17 as a series of six speeches that have been interwoven with one another or placed together by a compiler, while 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) present an apocalyptic scenario for the future day of Yahweh. In this sense, Duhm sees a two-stage collection, but the stages are composite, reflecting the work of a compiler who arranged preexisting source material. Ironically, Duhm’s arguments proved compelling for many, even though most scholars correctly rejected his idea that the second half of the book came from the Maccabean period. Additionally, a significant number of scholars in the last century considered Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) and 3:4–8 (4:4–8) to be late additions to the book, but few argued that they entered at the same time.

The question of when and how Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) entered Joel is not an easy one to resolve. On the one hand, several things in this text set it apart from Joel 1:1–2:27 on the one side and Joel 3 (4) on the other. Jörg Jeremias is typical.³ He isolates four elements that set Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) apart. First, Joel 2:28–29 (3:1–2) announces the end of prophecy as known in Joel 1:1–2:27. Second, it presumes an individualized day of Yahweh. Third, the cosmic signs of 2:28–32 (3:1–5) differ from the same signs in 2:1–27. Finally, 2:281–32 (3:1–5) involves less use of other prophetic texts than Joel 1:1–2:27, though even Jeremias admits that this text involves references to Ezek 39:29 (in 2:28 [3:1]) and Obad 17 (in 2:32 [3:5]). Jeremias’s third and fourth points in this list are not terribly striking. Concerning the fourth, when one recognizes the first and last verse of Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) are intricately involved in the use of prophetic texts and 2:31 (3:4) functions essentially as a self-quote of Joel 2:10, it becomes difficult to sustain an argument that scribal prophecy diminishes in this text. Concerning the third point, the change in cosmic language between Joel 2:10 and 2:28–32 (3:1–5) reflects a change of target of the day of Yahweh, but the change has occurred because the possible repentance that was introduced in 2:12 undergirds the promise that begins in 2:18. The change in the day of Yahweh is intended as part of this promise from Yahweh that begins there—though 2:28 (3:1) presents itself as a second phase of the blessing (it will happen afterward). The differences denoted by the first and second points are clearer. The passage does presume that the outpouring of the Spirit—which produces prophetic activity—means that all of God’s people will manifest the ability to discern the signs of the day of Yahweh and be able to escape its effects. Nevertheless, this change comes about as a result of the repentance, and the two parts are linked together by the introduction of 2:28 (3:1). Similarly, one should not overstate the individual focus of 2:28–32 (3:1–5). The gifting of Yahweh’s spirit and the manifestation of prophetic signs (dreams and visions) are also corporate since they affect the old and young, male and female, and slave and free. The depiction of the coming day of Yahweh threatens the community, not individuals only. In this sense, the conceptualization of the day of Yahweh does not change focus drastically from the expectations of 2:1–11, except that the path for survivors becomes the focus more than the threat itself.

James Crenshaw admits that 2:28–32 (3:1–5) begins with a formula pointing to the remote—and mythic future that may represent an editorial hand incorporating later material, but the criteria for distinguishing such redactional touches often leave much to be desired.⁴ Crenshaw offers a confusing assessment of the date of Joel that seems to lean toward the late fifth century. Marvin Sweeney interprets Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) in light of motifs from exodus traditions, especially the eighth and ninth plagues—which he understands to be a key intertext for Joel 2:28–32 (3: 1–5).⁵ Consequently, Sweeney interprets the Hebrew word rûaḥ as wind in Joel rather than spirit, which he deems to be anachronistic and overly influenced by interpretation of the citation of Joel in Acts 2. For Sweeney, the allusions to the plague narratives in Exodus take prominence, especially since the locusts appear with an east wind (Exod 10:13) and disappear with a west wind (10:19). While one must surely guard against anachronistic understandings of Joel in its original context, the use of pour out here does not appear in the context of the plague narratives (in Exod 10:13, Yahweh drives [nhg] the east wind, and in 10:19, Yahweh changes [hpk] the west wind). Sweeney notes that the imagery of Joel 2:30–31 (3:3–4) is about restoring creation, but he maintains that these images also have cultic significance.⁶

John Barton sees the fifth century BCE as the earliest date for Joel 1:1–2:27. He believes that 2:28 (3:1) begins the second part of the book—one that is far less integrated than the material in Joel 1:1–2:27. Of the opening formula in 2:28 (3:1), Barton writes, It appears that the formula has been added after a prophecy that is complete in itself, and that the new material opens up a completely new set of ideas.⁷ This new material contains no reference to repentance or to fertility but depicts a transformation of human nature by an outpouring of Yahweh’s spirit. He maintains (as do others) that the promise of Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) fulfills Num 11:29 (But Moses said to him [i.e., Joshua], ‘Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!’). Barton sees the verses as fragments (2:28–29, 30–31, 32 [3:1–2, 3–4, 5]). As such, it is not necessary for him to relate the two parts to one another to form a coherent whole.⁸ Less clear for Barton is why these fragments, as he sees them, would be added to Joel 1:1–2:27.

By contrast, Jeremias sees Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) as a continuation of 1:1–2:27, though quite distinct from those verses.⁹ He argues first that these verses in actuality announce the end of prophecy since everyone will possess the gift, while Joel 1:1–2:27 assumes the prophet stands over against the rest of the people. Second, Jeremias suggests that the day of Yahweh becomes individualized. Joel 2:1–27 sees the fate of the people together, while Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) argues that one’s fate depends upon how one responds. Third, the cosmic signs foreshadow the day of Yahweh. Finally, Jeremias notes that specific allusions to Ezek 39:29 and Obad 17 appear at the beginning and end of the unit. Jeremias believes that Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) is later than 1:1–2:27 and 3:1–21 (4:1–21). Its expansion is due to the conviction that an individual response is required for deliverance. Deliverance is not automatic, though Yahweh’s desire for salvation is what makes it possible. Further, Jeremias references the history of those arguing for 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) being later than 1:1–2:27. He sees the issues along two poles. On the one hand, both parts of the book take up the theme of the day of Yahweh and whether Israel can endure it. On the other hand, the perspective and content are so different between the two parts that they hardly represent an original unity. Joel 1:1–2:27 presuppose past events to be related to future generations (1:2–4), while 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) reflect an eschatological perspective. In this sense then, Joel 2:28–32 (3:1–5) seeks to create a bridge between 1:1–2:27 and 3:1–21 (4:1–21), but it ends up showing the differences in greater detail. Jeremias also argues that the latest parts of Joel show a desire to read Joel within the Twelve (esp. Amos 1:2; 9:13; 4:6–11; and the way in which Joel 1:18–20 draws upon patterns of the intercession of Amos before a locust plague and drought), hence bringing together Amos 5:15; 7:3, 6.

The arguments for the late insertion of Joel 3:4–8 (4:4–8) into the context of chapter 3 (4) can be treated more succinctly, but decisions regarding how these verses relate to the context continue to affect discussions of the book’s unity. For many, verses 4–8 interrupt the eschatological (or apocalyptic) scene regarding the judgment of the nations on the coming day of Yahweh. These arguments for a disruption highlight certain observations. The pronouncement that Yahweh will punish the nations on the day of Yahweh in the valley of Jehoshaphat appears in 3:1–3 and 3:9–17 (specifically 3:12) while 3:4–8 focuses upon punishing Phoenicia and Philistia for specific acts that have occurred involving the capture of Judeans to sell them to the Greeks as slaves. Moreover, verses 4–8 have their own introduction and conclusion and a consistent internal logic. These literary qualities present verses 4–8 as a self-contained literary unit: a judgment oracle spoken by Yahweh to the peoples of the coast designed to warn those nations and comfort those in Judah.

Evaluating the arguments for the growth of Joel remains difficult, as Crenshaw has correctly noted. On the one hand, one can affirm that 2:28–32 (3:1–5) and 3:4–8 (4:4–8) stand apart from the material on either side. On the other hand, it seems arbitrary to claim that these units are any more distinct from one another than other preexisting sources used to construct Joel (e.g., 1:5–14, 15–20; 2:1–11; 3:9–17 [4:9–17]). In the end, one has to be able to account for the totality of the book. That task raises the question of how and why Joel was composed, or compiled, in this manner. Scholars have relied upon very different models of what constitutes unity for a prophetic book.

B. DIVERSE MODELS OF UNITY/UNIFICATION

In the last six decades, scholars have suggested or assumed a number of models for explaining the composition of Joel. These models include Hans Walter Wolff and Wilhelm Rudolph’s theory of a (largely) unified composition, Barton’s treatment of Joel as a unified composition in 1:1–2:27 combined with an anthology of small and fragmentary units in 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21), Siegfried Bergler’s focus on Joel’s use of preexisting sources woven together by Joel’s interpretive use of Scripture, and understandings of Joel as a rolling corpus that grows through a number of redactional layers (as illustrated by Wöhrle). A brief survey of the arguments for the very divergent opinions on the unity of Joel will demonstrate how one’s presuppositions color the question.

Rudolph and Wolff describe Joel as a unified composition, with the exception of 3:4–8 (4:4–8), which they both see as a later insertion. Rudolph and Wolff do not, however, agree upon much else. Rudolph goes to considerable lengths to provide a very specific setting for Joel, namely as a reaction to two natural disasters between the first deportation of Jerusalem’s leadership in 597 BCE and the second deportation in 587 BCE. For Rudolph, both an actual locust plague and a drought have come upon the land, thereby inspiring the prophet to speak first to different groups and then to admonish the priests to call a general day of fasting.¹⁰ The reason that the prophet is so upset appears in 1:15: The natural catastrophes represent a precursor to the day of Yahweh. The prophet’s prayer (1:19–20) leads to a description of the plague (2:1–11). This threat requires confession from the people and a call for a day of fasting in 2:12–17. Joel 2:18–20 begins the divine response with a promise and a description of the result of the fast (2:21–24) because the rain has arrived, which shows Yahweh is again satisfied with his people. Finally, Yahweh promises two things in 2:25–27: First, the immediate threat will soon disappear and second, Israel will no longer be shamed. Thus, the locusts and the drought do not become signs of the day of Yahweh. Instead, they disappear from the remainder of the book, and the prophet expresses Yahweh’s promises for the future. Further, Joel proceeds to describe the terrible day of Yahweh in the more distant future, but this day will be directed against the nations rather than Yahweh’s own people. For Rudolph, 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) presuppose and refer back to 2:26–27. Hence, for Rudolph, the essential unity of 2:28–3:21 with 1:1–2:27 is absolutely self-evident. Only 3:4–8 seems out of place, though Rudolph still believes it stems from Joel.¹¹ Hence, Rudolph sees the unity stemming from an individual prophet challenging and comforting his own people.

Wolff sees the unity of Joel in the progression of the units.¹² Unlike Rudolph, Wolff sees 2:1–17 as referring to a future event, not to the same economic crisis assumed in chapter 1, which has already occurred. The day of Yahweh passages are central to the logic of 1:1–2:27. These verses are set in the prophet’s own time, while 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) deliver a purely eschatological message. Wolff sees a careful balancing of the message of 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) with the message of 1:1–2:27, arguing that the same author lies behind both parts of the book. For Wolff, the two parts of the book form an almost perfect symmetry.¹³ Additionally, 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) share a number of catchwords and phrases with 1:1–2:27 (Wolff lists eleven such repetitions). Wolff posits, however, that Joel has experienced later additions with the inclusion of 3:4–8 (4:4–8), along with 2:3bβ; and 2:29 (3:2).¹⁴ For Wolff, the day of Yahweh constitutes the major theme of the book, and Joel systematically develops a treatment of the topic as a day of judgment on Israel (1:1–2:27) and on the nations (2:28–3:21).¹⁵ Joel develops the theme in both directions. He treats the locusts of chapter 1 as a prototype of the eschatological army that Yahweh will lead on the day of Yahweh.¹⁶

Barton offers a different take still.¹⁷ He considers Joel 1:1–2:27 to be a unified composition that consists of two thematically parallel oracles concerning the same locust attack (1:2–20; 2:1–17), followed by a divine response in the form of a promise (2:18–27). By contrast, he considers 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21) to be an anthology of ten distinct, originally unrelated pericopes that one can choose to read in relationship to one another (though Barton does not).¹⁸ Thus, for Barton, the second half of Joel consists of a collection of miscellaneous oracles concerning the judgment of the nations of the future salvation of Israel.¹⁹ While very few concur entirely with Barton’s reading of the second half of Joel, his analysis points to a very important characteristic of Joel 2:28–3:21 (3:1–4:21). Namely, the rhetoric, motifs, and perspectives in these chapters shift rather dramatically and often. This commentary will explore the nature of many of these shifts as the result of allusive discourse that cites and/or draws upon other texts, simultaneously creating levels of disjuncture and cohesion, an approach illustrated by the work of Bergler.

Bergler presents a model of composition that highlights as a central component of the compositional style of Joel something that scholars have long recognized: the book’s creative use of citations, allusions, and motifs that come from other literary sources.²⁰ For Bergler, this allusive creativity in many ways functions as the glue that holds Joel together across its constituent parts. For him, a major missing piece in Joel scholarship had been the extent to which Joel incorporates vocabulary from Exodus and the wilderness traditions to evoke what he labels as an Exodus typology that draws from the plague narratives (especially Exod 10) and the narratives of the wilderness wanderings (especially Exod 34) to make its rhetorical points. While others have long noted the high number of instances of direct citations and allusions in Joel, none have developed the compositional implications in as detailed a fashion as Bergler. His assignation of the author of Joel as a scribal exegete (Schriftinterpret) fits with a growing trend in prophetic studies that understands the work of scribal prophets to be far more sophisticated and interpretive than previous generations of scholars have recognized. While one can quibble (as this commentary does) with specific details of his reconstruction, he provides a helpful model for understanding Joel as a work compiled from several existing sources. It represents the creative endeavor of a compiler and author whose knowledge of and dependence upon other scriptural traditions helps to weave these independent pieces into a coherent whole. Sometimes these allusions and citations appear so seamlessly one cannot easily determine whether they come from the compiler or from the existing source, but at other times the citations create a certain disruption in the immediate context and can thus be mistaken for secondary insertions.

By contrast, Wöhrle argues for a protracted time frame to account for the growth of the corpus.²¹ Wöhrle analyzes Joel from a literary-critical perspective and determines that the final form of Joel develops in five stages, plus at least one case of an isolated gloss. For Wöhrle, the foundational layer of Joel remains limited to portions of 1:1–2:27.²² This underlying, foundational text contains a dual focus: a prophetic response to a drought combined with climactic day of Yahweh passages. For Wöhrle, it does not yet, however, include material related to locust plagues. Rather, the locust material enters with the first major redactional revision that dramatically expands the foundational layer and adds the bulk of chapter 3 (4).²³ This second layer (which he labels the first foreign nations layer—"Fremdvölkerschicht I) blends the imagery of locusts with the threat of attacks from hostile armies, as well as Yahweh’s repelling and punishment of those armies. For Wöhrle, this second layer displays a theological perspective that he also traces across larger sections of the Book of the Twelve. The third developmental stage occurs with what Wöhrle labels as the second foreign nations layer (Fremdvölkerschicht II).²⁴ This material expands and concretizes the judgment against foreign nations by specifying Tyre, Sidon, and the Philistines (3:4–8 [4:4–8]) along with Edom and Egypt (3:18–21 [4:18–21]) as the objects of Yahweh’s wrath. Joel 3:18–21 (4:18–21) also adds a utopian dimension to Yahweh’s salvific acts on behalf of Judah. Wöhrle’s fourth and fifth redactional stages insert rather minimal material, but they also introduce theological agendas that continue to play out across the Book of the Twelve. Wöhrle names the fourth layer the salvation for the nations layer, and recognizes this material as expanding the theological perspective of the earlier layers that were much more hostile toward foreign nations.²⁵ Finally, Wöhrle’s fifth redactional layer adds only 2:12–14, a passage that Wöhrle associates with the grace layer" of the Book of the Twelve.²⁶ In addition to these layers, Wöhrle highlights the importance of Joel for the development of the Book of the Twelve. He even postulates that Joel replaced Hosea, for a time, as the first book of the collection.²⁷

Wöhrle’s model for Joel offers a careful analysis of the points of disjuncture and homogeneity within the text that corresponds in many respects to the observations within this commentary, but his conclusions ultimately differ from the approach taken in this commentary for several reasons. As for similarities, he puts on firm ground the perspective that the final form of Joel owes much to its location in the Book of the Twelve.²⁸ In particular, his second, fourth, and fifth layer share thematic, lexical, and theological perspectives with other passages in the Twelve. It has become increasingly clear to a significant number of scholars that these intertextual links can no longer be adequately explained as the result of the composition of individual books alone. The individual writings within the Twelve, in all likelihood, experienced varying degrees of editorial additions in light of their location in the Twelve or their development of recurring themes across the writings of the Book of the Twelve.

While Wöhrle has demonstrated numerous places where the Book of the Twelve contains similar themes that could be the result of editorial activity, his analysis falls short in two areas that affect his model of Joel significantly. First, he demonstrates a tendency toward editorial myopia. He often assigns passages to an editor because they share a single perspective. In other words, in spite of the fact that Joel contains texts of both judgment and deliverance for Yahweh’s people, his editorial layers focus exclusively upon either judgment or deliverance for the nations.²⁹ Second, Wöhrle frequently discounts the role played by citation techniques. For example, his assignation of Joel 3:18–21 (4:18–21) to the third developmental stage (Fremdvölkerschicht II) because of its hostility to Egypt and Edom downplays or ignores the significant number of times that these verses also reverse the situation of 1:1–2:27. In other words, he fails to eliminate the possibility that these verses play a foundational role in closing the book of Joel, and thus need not be separated from the foundational layer. The (often difficult) task of piecing together the heterogenous literary units to explain the final form of Joel must take into account the role of Joel’s propensity for citation more carefully before assuming that these diverse texts all reflect additions to Joel rather than a compositional technique. Third, Wöhrle’s model of Joel as a rolling corpus that also ties in with significant editorial activity across the Book of the Twelve raises a significant question. Namely, how would scribes have continued to know to use Joel as the repository of editorial activity? For Wöhrle, after the foundational layer, Joel’s editorial layers all relate to the editing of the Twelve, with the exception of the isolated insertions that he discusses at the end. In addition, he highlights a number of closely associated texts that should not be dismissed out of hand as the work of an editor working on a multivolume corpus. Still, Wöhrle’s model assumes that a series of scribes knew that Joel should function as a central text for these recurring thematic expansions. Wöhrle can make this assumption because, in his model, Joel functions as the first book of the multiwriting scroll that came to be known as the Twelve, but no other scholars have followed him in claiming that Hosea was first dropped from the corpus and later reinserted as the first writing of the scroll.³⁰ For this reason, it becomes difficult to conceptualize how the scribal editors would have gone about their task of continually updating Joel as the first location of a thematic expansion of the Book of the Twelve. Joel’s role as the literary anchor makes better sense as a conceptual, paradigmatic writing that opens discussion of themes already present within the writings to be incorporated than it does as a series of revisions added to Joel to introduce a new thematic expansion of the corpus. For this reason, one should explore the role of Joel as a composite document whose compilation reflects a coherent agenda from the outset, one that serves a literary function for the Book of the Twelve.

The preceding discussion demonstrates that significant debate still exists among scholars regarding how the book of Joel came together. While some earlier models of composition have receded in their significance in the current discussion (most notably, the treatment of Joel as a cultic liturgy), others have become more pronounced (especially the need to credit the extensive art of citation that has led to an understanding of Joel as an example of scribal prophecy). A second commonality among most scholars (with Barton representing a significant exception) appears in the tendency to recognize that, no matter how the pieces came together (whether as a single act of compilation or as part of a series of redactional continuations over time), those who placed them together intended that they be read in relationship to one another. In other words, Joel 3 (4) presumes that the reader has read the preceding material.³¹ Third, and conversely, despite the strong sense of cohesion, careful analysis also suggests significant points of disjuncture are best explained as the result of the combination of material that originated independently of other material in Joel. This dichotomy has resulted in a number of scholarly investigations that attempt to explain the final form of Joel with different models. It would appear that something nearing a consensus (though certainly not a uniform approach) has begun to take shape that Joel should be read sequentially from beginning to end, not merely as an anthology of short prophetic sayings that have no relationship to one another.

This developing consensus does not mean, however, that the divergent perspectives within Joel should be ignored in order to maintain that Joel 1–3 (4) constitutes an inherent unity. Rather, the unity of Joel represents a conceptual unity in which preexisting texts were combined to serve a purpose. That purpose reflects a theological paradigm of history in which Joel describes a series of catastrophes (natural and human) sent by Yahweh as harbingers of the coming days of Yahweh, the recounting of which serves a didactic function to admonish (1:2–2:17) and to comfort Yahweh’s people (2:18–3:21 [2:18–4:21]). The day of Yahweh in Joel is not a single day. In Joel 1:15–2:11, the impending day of Yahweh threatens Judah and Jerusalem, but the day of Yahweh in Joel 3 (4) threatens the nations. The threat of 2:1–11 leads to a call to repentance (2:12–17) followed by a series of divine promises to Judah (2:18–3:21 [2:18–4:21]) regarding what will take place if repentance occurs, first in the short-term (2:18–27) and then in the long-term (2:28–3:21 [3:1–4:21]).³² The short-term promises (2:18–27) focus upon reversing the images of destruction that served as harbingers for the impending day of Yahweh against Judah in Joel 1:2–14. The long-term promises focus upon different goals: the restoration and purification of Yahweh’s people on Zion (2:28–32 [3:1–5]) and the day of Yahweh’s punishment of those nations who have harmed Judah (3:1–17 [4:1–17]), which is related again to the restoration of Yahweh’s people on Zion (3:18–21 [4:18–21]).

III. AUTHORSHIP, DATE, AND PLACE OF ORIGIN

The book of Joel provides no explicit biographical data about the person of Joel except for the name of his father (1:1).³³ The prophet’s name means Yahweh is God. The prophet’s father, Pethuel, does not appear elsewhere in the Old Testament, although the Greek translation reflects the name Bathuel, the Greek spelling of Bethuel, the father of Isaac’s wife Rebekah.³⁴

Caution, however, is necessary at this point since the composite nature of the final form of Joel makes it impossible to know with certainty which of the poems stem specifically from the prophet for whom the book is named, or if it is the name of the scribal prophet who combined the individual sources. The composition of Joel, as noted below, stems from the creative combination of preexisting sources, transitional passages to combine these sources, and allusions to other writings (both in the Prophets and in the Torah). It is therefore possible, but not provable, that Joel 1:1 already circulated with some portion(s) of the book, but this verse might also reflect the name of the scribal interpreter who put these pieces together.³⁵

Anything else that can be said about the person Joel must be inferred from the book, but several things can be said with relative confidence. The setting of the oracles at several points in Joel suggests a close proximity to the temple compound. While these data do not guarantee that Joel was born in Jerusalem, they strongly suggest that the prophet had a ministry in Jerusalem, a ministry that was closely associated with the interest and rituals of the temple. Joel should not, however, be caricatured as a cult prophet interested only in delivering oracles of salvation.³⁶ Rather, Joel’s message warns Israel’s people, its elders, and its religious leadership of their need to repent lest the current disasters lead to the overthrow of Jerusalem. The promissory oracles in Joel (largely 2:18–3:21) represent promises of deliverance and judgment if and only if the people repent (see the commentary on 2:12–17). Finally, one can also infer that the person responsible for putting Joel together was quite well-trained in the ancient traditions of Judah and Israel (including extensive knowledge of traditions about the exodus and prophetic texts).

Signs of postexilic dating dominate recent scholarly discussions of the book of Joel, and yet, consensus on a precise date has been notoriously difficult to pin down. The twentieth century saw a number of scenarios for the dating of Joel ranging from relatively early to quite late.³⁷ Increasingly, however, attempts to date Joel prior to the exile have given way to a wide consensus that Joel is postexilic. The consensus does not mean, however, that the problem has been completely resolved, since within this time frame scholars continue to offer proposals that include the late-sixth to the mid-fourth centuries BCE. Moreover, a number of scholars have proposed diachronic models that have the book growing over time in a number of