Heaven and temple in the Second Temple period: A taxonomy

Abstract

It is a commonplace of ancient Near Eastern worldviews that temples have cosmic significance. This understanding persists and develops in the Second Temple period, with numerous texts witnessing to a widely held belief that the Jerusalem temple reflected heaven or the universe. Scholars have largely been content either to recognize a basic relationship, or to distinguish temple-in-heaven from temple-as-universe, sometimes construing the former as “apocalyptic” and the latter as “Hellenistic.” Jonathan Klawans’ work represents an important articulation of this distinction. This article summarizes his contribution, and critiques it on the grounds that it remains overly dichotomous and does not do full justice to the evidence. Instead, a fresh taxonomy is proposed with four key categories, each illustrated from Second Temple and biblical texts. None of these categories is discrete; rather they demarcate a spectrum or scale of ways that ancient Jewish and early Christian writers conceptualized the heaven–temple relationship.

Introduction

It is a commonplace of ancient Near Eastern epics that at creation, the chief god establishes heaven or the whole created order as a temple, ¹ and that he or his human regent is the one who constructs the earthly building representing this cosmic reality. ² So, for example, in the Sumerian Gudea cylinders, the foundations of Ningirsu’s temple reach down to the subterranean ocean Apsu, and it is like a mountain reaching to heaven (cyl. A, 562–616). In the Babylonian creation epic Enuma Elish, after Marduk had defeated Tiamat, he had a chamber and throne built for him, which is as high as Apsu is deep, and is equated with the construction of Babylon (6.47–72). Although rarely explicit, similar notions are found in the Hebrew Bible, where numerous texts share this presupposition. ³ For example, Ps 11:4 states, “The Lord is in his holy temple [היכל‎]; the Lord’s throne is in heaven [בשׁמים‎],” while Isa 66:1 affirms the cosmos as God’s true and ultimate abode in contrast to the earthly sanctuary: “Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool; what is the house that you would build for me, and what is my resting-place?” As in the ancient Near Eastern accounts linking this idea with creation, there are also hints in Gen 1–2 that creation is a sanctuary (note particularly the parallels to the account of the tabernacle’s construction in Exodus). ⁴ This basic presupposition persists and is elaborated in the Second Temple period. Scholars have largely been content to note the basic association of heaven or cosmos with temple, without probing its differing portrayals across a wide variety of texts. This is problematic because it can lead to the importation of a host of wider associations on the basis of fairly slender evidence. Instead, greater precision in describing and comparing ideas of a heavenly temple is required. In this article, I summarize and critique the common scholarly distinction between temple-in-heaven and temple-as-universe. This distinction is overly dichotomous and insufficiently fine-grained to take account of all the evidence, and it runs the risk of essentializing the two categories. In its place I propose a fresh taxonomy, whose four headings represent positions on a spectrum of views.

Previous classifications of heaven and temple

Scholars are well aware of the heaven–temple connection, but often do not push further than this. For example, Martha Himmelfarb’s important study traces the impact of “heavenly temple” on the development of ascent apocalypses, a phrase she uses interchangeably with “heaven as temple,” without probing differing portrayals. ⁵ Christopher Rowland includes “the heavenly temple” as a single category among a diverse list summarizing temple ideologies in the period. ⁶ C. T. R. Hayward focuses on the significance of the Jerusalem temple, and identifies a number of key areas: cosmic order, cosmic symbolism, angelic worship, invocation of the Lord on Israel’s behalf, light. ⁷ These helpfully identify a range of different meanings that authors in the period associated with the temple, and many have some kind of cosmic connection. Yet, this approach says little about the various cosmologies associated with the temple, the specifics of their structure and architecture.

A distinction that is often deployed in scholarship separates an apocalyptic notion of a temple structure within heaven from a Hellenistic idea that the universe is a temple. ⁸ While it is true that numerous Latin and Greek texts describe the universe as a temple (for example, Cicero, De rep. 6.15; Plutarch, Tranq. an. 20), the reference is often passing and Greco–Roman temple symbolism and ideologies are markedly different from the ancient Near Eastern context within which the Jerusalem temple and cult took shape. By contrast, while Josephus and Philo write in Greek and make a similar connection, the sanctuary to which they liken the cosmos is unmistakeably the Israelite tabernacle or the Jerusalem temple, and thus, distinctively Jewish. Bipartite categorizations of heavenly temple have long standing in scholarship, as can be seen in G. B. Gray’s treatment of “[t]he Sacrificial Service in Heaven” nearly a century ago. ⁹ He identifies the following two categories: first, where the temple is “the earthly equivalent of heaven itself, or more widely, the whole temple area may be regarded as a symbol or reproduction in miniature of the entire cosmos.” ¹⁰ Second, the idea that “the earthly temple, including in the Jewish account an altar, was built according to instructions given from heaven.” ¹¹ These two are distinct but not mutually exclusive. In his conclusion, he recapitulates two “broad lines,” in the first of which the earthly temple is a material representation of immaterial heavenly originals; whereas, the second “transfers to heaven more or less exact counterparts of the material things of earth and so makes heaven reproduce earth.” ¹² Despite some very insightful discussion of the variety of portrayals in a range of relevant texts, it is not exactly clear how Gray’s closing two categories map onto his first two; the opening pair distinguishes temple–heaven equivalence from plans given in heaven, whereas the closing pair contrasts incorporeality with materiality. Heavenly immateriality could quite conceivably coincide with temple–heaven equivalence and with heavenly instructions or plans for the tabernacle—as indeed they do in Philo. ¹³ One distinction Gray makes in discussion of the Apocalypse of John is between “heaven itself as a temple” and “a temple within heaven”; ¹⁴ this will be important below, but again it is unclear how he envisages these two categories relating to the others he enumerates. In short, Gray offers some acute analysis but his categories are not sufficiently clear to be of use as they stand.

A key contribution to the scholarly discussion is offered by Jonathan Klawans, who draws a similar distinction between “temple as cosmos” and “a temple in heaven.” ¹⁵ The former makes symbolic associations between the temple and the universe, and regards the earthly cult as participating in a wider cosmic worship. The latter is more analogous in its conceptualization, with earthly worship imitating or reproducing heavenly worship. Given this mirroring, “an important prerequisite to the idea of the earthly temple corresponding to a heavenly one is a developed theology of divine emanation,” that is, it is the divine Name, Presence, or Logos that dwells in the earthly sanctuary; also, a developed angelology “is an absolute prerequisite for the notion of a heavenly temple.” ¹⁶ Klawans rightly critiques scholars for conflating these two notions, and also for assuming too easily that the idea of a heavenly pattern (as found in Exod 25:9, 40 and later reflection on it) must automatically entail a full-scale, operational heavenly temple. He readily acknowledges that the two ideas are “not contradictory” and “not completely incompatible”; yet, he also states that “there are many tensions between them, and [. . .] it is a general rule that ancient Jewish sources will articulate only one or another of these approaches, and not both.” ¹⁷

Klawans’ treatment is detailed and sophisticated, and the categories he identifies are a helpful development of the work of Gray and others. In particular, he eschews a simplistic apocalyptic – Hellenistic dichotomy, allowing Philo’s and Josephus’ portrayals of cosmic temple to be treated as distinctively Jewish alongside other Jewish texts. Yet, his own analysis undercuts itself; Philo’s corpus is one of the key instantiations of the idea of “temple as cosmos” (along with Josephus and later rabbinic and medieval Jewish texts), but at the same time, bears witness to a theory of divine emanation and a developed angelology, ¹⁸ items that Klawans associates with “a temple in heaven.” As I show below, the key passage in On the Special Laws in fact represents a borderline case and this helps explain how Philo can hold together cosmic symbolism with angelology and emanation. Furthermore, Klawans’ second category does not sufficiently distinguish between the two ideas that Gray identified clearly: temple within heaven and temple as co-extensive with heaven. By focusing attention on “a temple in heaven” and downplaying heaven itself as a temple, Klawans excludes what is in fact a middle term between his two, and thus his evaluation of the evidence remains too dichotomous.

A proposed taxonomy

As I turn to propose a new taxonomy, a few methodological preliminaries are in order. The approach below is essentially thematic and not chronological; there are difficulties in dating many of these texts, and the intention is to identify differing conceptualizations, not dependence or development (beyond the development from the Hebrew Bible texts, largely in category 1, to the other views); rabbinic texts and later apocalypses are included on the basis that they may well preserve earlier traditions and that they further illustrate categories that can be well-established on the basis of texts firmly within the period. No view is taken here on the relative balance of Christian and (non-Christian) Jewish elements within those texts that show evidence of both. In general, it would seem that Christian influence affects depiction of the cult and its personnel, and even if it bears on the architectural and structural aspects of cosmic temple imagery which are our primary interest, no category proposed here contains only Christian or Jewish texts.

In reading the texts, two principles are borne in mind: the first is to presume consistency within a particular text or author; this is a presumption not an absolute law, and allows that variation may be present, particularly in an oeuvre written over many years or in multiple parts. The second is the recognition that in describing the heavenly sphere—particularly in the context of dreams or visions—writers quite understandably push at the boundaries of human thought and language, and may therefore deliberately offer apparently contradictory portrayals and descriptions. ¹⁹ An example related to our theme is Enoch’s description of heavenly structures as both “hot like fire and cold like ice” (1 En. 14:13), though not all instances are so directly juxtaposed as this. We need to treat this as paradox rather than dismissing it as incoherence. These two principles stand in a slight but not insurmountable tension with one another. Together, they suggest that alongside the challenge of determining which construal of the heaven–temple relationship a particular text evinces, allowance needs to be made for cases where a text or author might in fact display more than one.

My contention is that we should reject a twofold classification, with categories regarded as largely mutually exclusive, as this not only does not do justice to the data, but also risks perpetuating an essentialist view of each category as a discrete conceptual “box” to which different texts and authors subscribed. Instead, I propose that we should conceive portrayals of heavenly sanctuary in the period on the model of a spectrum, with the taxonomy below delineating its four most salient points. The first point is a temple-plan in heaven, whereby there is a blueprint of some kind in the heavenly realm which is shown to a human being (most usually Moses) who then proceeds to construct the earthly sanctuary. Next comes the notion of a temple in heaven, where there is an actual structure within the heavenly domain. The third category is temple as heaven, where there is no distinct structure as such within heaven, but rather heaven itself is a sanctuary—the two are co-extensive. Finally comes temple as cosmos, where the whole universe is a temple, usually with (the highest) heaven as its most sacred precinct and earth and sea as outer chambers or courtyards. It is worth reiterating that these four headings do not represent silos but rather form the key points along a spectrum of views ranging from minimalist to maximalist in their understanding of the scale of the cosmic temple, and they shade into one another at the edges. This will become clearer as we turn to examine actual texts.

Temple-plan in heaven

The idea that there is a plan or blueprint for the tabernacle or temple in heaven is most directly associated with Exodus:

In accordance with all that I show you concerning the pattern of the tabernacle and of all its furniture, so you shall make it. [. . .] see that you make them according to the pattern for them, which is being shown you on the mountain. [. . .] you shall erect the tabernacle according to the plan for it that you were shown on the mountain. (Exod 25:9, 40; 26:30) ²⁰

The most natural reading of the “pattern” (תבנית‎/παράδειγμα) here is that it refers to a plan or outline for the sanctuary and its furniture. This does not mean that this verse was only taken to mean this in later literature. Rather, it is a crucial verse for understanding the relationship between heaven and temple, and the basic point it establishes of correspondence between heavenly and earthly cultic realities is a fundamental one for all positions on the spectrum. ²¹ That is to say, Exod 25:9, 40 can cohere with all of the categories outlined here and is alluded to or cited in several of the other texts examined below. Nevertheless, in its original setting, it seems most likely that the text envisages some kind of blueprint; both the MT תבנית‎ (25:9, 40) and the LXX παράδειγμα (25:9; cf. 27:8) and τύπος (25:40) can denote a pattern or model, including an architect’s plan. Exodus 26:30 in Hebrew emphasizes the oral nature of God’s instructions to Moses, using the term משׁפט‎, whereas the LXX retains the visual emphasis with the term εἶδος (cf. Num 8:4, where the MT has מראה‎).

The terminological variation is a point of discussion by the Rabbis, with the Babylonian Talmud making a distinction between משׁפט‎ in Exod 26:30, which is related to the tabernacle as a whole and interpreted as (verbal) instructions, in contrast to תבנית‎ in Exod 25:40, which is related to the furnishings and which is taken to imply that Moses saw actual fiery models of an ark, menorah, and table, which he was then to copy (b. Men. 29a). ²²

This rabbinic tradition notwithstanding, the sense “building plans” for תבנית‎ in the Hebrew Bible receives further support from 1 Chron 28:11–19, where David entrusts Solomon not only with the raw materials to construct the temple, but also with plans (תבנית‎/παράδειγμα, vv. 11, 12, 19) revealed to him in written form by the Lord. There is thus a tradition that not just the tabernacle but Solomon’s temple as well was constructed according to a divinely given pattern.

This language is picked up directly by Pseudo-Philo, who describes Moses’ 40 days with God on Mt Sinai, and comments,

he commanded him about the tabernacle [and its furnishings . . . ]. And he showed him their likeness [ostendit ei similitudinem eorum] in order that he might make them according to the pattern that he had seen [secundum exemplar quod viderat]. (LAB 11:15; cf. 19:10) ²³

It seems that the Greek terminology of εἶδος and παράδειγμα or τύπος (translating Hebrew or Aramaic terms drawn from Exod 25), and the conceptuality of plans or blueprints in heaven, can be discerned here as well.

Temple in heaven

The second category is not, as stated earlier, an entirely discrete one. The notion of the earthly sanctuary imitating the heavenly one remains fundamental. But in a number of texts, we find a clear indication that what is imitated is an actual structure in heaven.

The Wisdom of Solomon offers a tantalizingly brief reference to what might at first appear to be a similar idea to Exodus 25: “You have given command to build a temple on your holy mountain, and an altar in the city of your holy habitation, a copy of the holy tent [μίμημα σκηνῆς ἁγίας] that you prepared from the beginning.” (Wis 9:8). What is significant here is not just the different terminology (μίμημα as opposed to παράδειγμα, τύπος, or εἶδος), but its application to the earthly sanctuary alongside explicit mention of a heavenly sanctuary—in this case, a “holy tabernacle.” That is, the direction of travel (heaven to earth) remains the same, but the scales have been reversed; this is not a movement from blueprints, plans, or a small model to a building, but from an extant structure to another derivative, lesser one.

The Syriac Apocalypse of Baruch witnesses to a similar idea, but with a couple of significant differences:

Do you think that this is the city of which I said: On the palms of my hands I have carved you? It is not this building that is in your midst now; it is that which will be revealed, with me, that was already prepared from the moment that I decided to create Paradise. And I showed it to Adam before he sinned. But when he transgressed the commandment, it was taken away from him—as also Paradise. After these things I showed it to my servant Abraham in the night between the portions of the victims. And again I showed it also to Moses on Mount Sinai when I showed him the likeness of the tabernacle and all its vessels. Behold, now it is preserved with me—as also Paradise. (2 Bar. 4:2–6)

The first notable difference here is that the revelation to Moses becomes the third in a series, with Adam and Abraham seeing what he later saw. It would appear that Adam even had access to these heavenly realities, which he lost on expulsion from Paradise. Abraham’s connection with the cult is elaborated in other texts which expand on the covenant sacrifice of Genesis 15 and the Aqedah in connection with both temple and heaven. ²⁴ The second difference is that the heavenly reality is not only not a plan, but is the entire city of Jerusalem. This city was built at creation, is preserved with God in the present age (even as earthly Jerusalem is destroyed), and waits to be revealed in the future. It contains a tabernacle and there is a clear “likeness” or correspondence between the heavenly and earthly city and sanctuary (see also 2 Bar. 59:4); again, we see the influence of Exodus 25. I suggest that 2 Baruch represents a borderline case from the previous category, because the heavenly sanctuary does not appear to be currently functioning. ²⁵ Instead, it is a model for the earthly one and is preserved through Israel’s tribulations, ready to be revealed as the lasting city in the next age. A similar notion, with Jerusalem appearing as a woman before her transformation into a city, is encountered in Ezra’s visions (4 Ezra 10:25–28, 51–55). ²⁶

Second Baruch thus highlights the importance of eschatology; many of the texts to be surveyed below envisage a currently functioning cultus in the heavenly realm, to which earthly worship corresponds. Yet, there is an intermediary position between a blueprint and a functioning sanctuary, which is that of a sanctuary that awaits construction or inauguration. ²⁷ This appears to be the case with the temple of Ezekiel 40–42, which is an extant structure of which Ezekiel is given an extensive tour. ²⁸ It is structurally ready and complete, but is not currently in use (note the absence of furnishings, save for a wooden incense altar, 41:22). There are even indications that the temple structure itself takes on some of the functions of the priests (in Ezek 42:40, a wall divides [הבדיל‎] holy from common, cf. equivalent use of the Hiphil of the same root for the priests’ role in Lev 10:10). The purpose of the vision is primarily for Ezekiel to convey the temple’s arrangement to the people, both to shame them and to set out a plan for them to follow (Ezek 43:10–11). This is, then, an actual heavenly temple which also serves as a model for the eschatological temple to which God’s glory will return (Ezek 43:1–5). A different take on a similar principle is the Temple Scroll from Qumran, which envisages an idealized, utopic sanctuary with great detail on its structure, equipment, and rites (although much of the structural material on the sanctuary proper and its furnishings, columns 3–12, is highly fragmentary). This is destined to be created at the eschaton and last forever (11QT 29 l.10). ²⁹

To return briefly to the Wisdom of Solomon, we find little further indication of the architecture of its “holy tabernacle,” nor of its furniture (although it contains the Lord’s throne of glory, 9:10) or cultic personnel and rites. The only specification given is the assertion that the heavenly sanctuary was pre-established (“from the beginning” presumably indicates creation, Wis 9:1–2). Wisdom’s heavenly sanctuary could therefore conceivably be consistent with any of points two to four, and most likely should sit either here or with the following one, “temple as heaven;” it is open as to whether a cult is ongoing or anticipated.

As we move to texts where the temple in heaven is operational, I briefly note a somewhat unusual scene in the Apocalypse of Abraham; on his heavenly tour, the eponymous hero sees an altar opposite an idol, with “boys being slaughtered on it” (Apoc. Ab. 25:1–2). This is not simply a scene of idolatrous sacrifice, however, for a “handsome temple” is also present (Apoc. Ab. 25:3). This appears to be a scene of judgment more than a rightly ordered cult (cf. Apoc. Ab. 25:4, 6), but it indicates that a temple is the kind of thing one might expect to find in a heavenly journey.

One of the clearest examples of a temple in heaven is found in the Enochic Book of the Watchers. Enoch is rushed up to heaven on the winds, and comes to a wall of white marble and tongues of fire (1 En. 14:8). He passes through this and approaches a “great house” (14:10–14). Within this house, he has a further vision of “a second house which is greater than the former” entirely made of tongues of fire (14:15–17). Within this second house, Enoch sees a throne with wheels, cherubim, and “the Great Glory” sitting upon it, attended by angels who cannot come near to him (14:18–23). Enoch is summoned to approach, and addressed directly with a message to take back to the Watchers (14:24–16:3). The terminology is not explicitly cultic, but the indication of a temple is clear: ³⁰ the wall demarcates the outer court, while the first and second houses represent the outer and inner chambers of the temple, respectively. ³¹ The inner chamber is the dwelling place of God, with his throne (represented in the earthly most holy place by the atonement cover of the ark, which is denoted as God’s footstool, for example, 1 Chron 28:2, Psalms 99:5; 132:7). It might be suggested that 1 En. 14 implies a tripartite depiction of heaven, with the outer wall as its boundary, and three sections to it; but in fact, Enoch approaches the outer wall some way into his heavenly ascent, and the sanctuary proper is described as a house, signs that the conceptualization is very definitely of a structure within heaven. The Enochic Book of Parables (1 En. 37–71) can also be mentioned here; there are general indications of heavenly worship (angels interceding and standing to bless God with the Trisagion, 39:5; 39:12–40:2; the prayers and blood of the righteous ascending into heaven, 47:1), and of a heavenly throne (45:3), which might suggest temple as heaven. But as the book reaches its climax, Enoch is taken to “the heaven of heavens” and sees “a structure built of crystals” (71:5) and “countless angels [ . . . ] encircling that house” (71:8). In this case, greater specificity emerges over the course of the text, showing that what is envisaged is a temple in heaven.

A more explicit cult is found in the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice. The extant material is replete with indications of heavenly temple architecture, with pillars and “all the corners of its structure” (4Q403 I, i, l.41), “sanctuaries,” “seven elevated holy places” (4Q403 I, ii, ll.10–11), ³² and “vestibules” by which “the spirits of the most holy inner Temple” enter (4Q405 14–15, i, l.4). ³³ The greatest attention is given to the heavenly Holy of Holies, the dwelling place of God, described variously as the “glorious innermost Temple chamber,” “the inner Temple” (4Q400 I, i, ll.1–4, 19), the “glorious innermost Temple chambers” (4Q405 14–15, i, ll.6–7). This rich variety of structural terminology is “drawn from the technical language of the cult,” with strong influence from Ezekiel 40–48. ³⁴ The temple is furnished with “ornaments of the innermost sanctuary” (4Q403 I, ii, ll.13–14) and “the image of the throne-chariot above the firmament” (4Q405 20–22, ii, ll.8–9). Particularly striking is the animate nature of the structure and the ornaments, which offer praise and prayers. In this they join the angels who serve constantly as priests and ministers of the divine Presence. ³⁵ The Sabbath Songs contain more extensive indications of celestial cultic architecture than 1 Enoch, while at the same time maintaining a focus on heavenly worship, in which the community joins. It is therefore harder to tease out the actual structural arrangement, but it appears to have multiple chambers and a most holy place, much as the earthly temple did. ³⁶ The mirroring principle is still in operation, then, but remains largely implicit. Where a temple in heaven is operational, as in these texts, it entails angelology, as the angels serve in the role of priests.

Two further texts merit brief mention under this category. The first is the Apocalypse of John, which speaks of “God’s sanctuary in heaven” (ὁ ναὸς τοῦ θεοῦ ὁ ἐν τῷ οὐρανω, Rev 11:19; cf. 14:17) and of “the sanctuary of the tent of testimony in heaven” (ὁ ναὸς τῆς σκηνῆς τοῦ μαρτυρίου ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ, Rev 15:5). ³⁷ The particular phrasing seems to suggest a structure within heaven. Yet, other indications within the book point in the direction of a sanctuary that is co-extensive with heaven, and I will therefore discuss it further in the next category. This ambivalence highlights again the fact that this proposed taxonomy represents a spectrum and not silos. The final text to mention is b. Hagigah, which in an exegetical discussion of the seven heavens and their names, locates Jerusalem, the temple, and the altar on which Michael makes offerings within Zebul, ³⁸ the fourth heaven (b. Hag. 12b). ³⁹ This is less usual, in that a temple in heaven is usually located centrally (so far as indications permit us to discern), with its inner chamber as the throne room of God, whereas God’s throne and dwelling here are in Arabot, the seventh heaven. Under the following heading, we will see that the highest heaven is often identified as the sanctuary or its most holy part. Up to this point, then, we have charted blueprints in heaven, extant-but-not-yet-functioning temple structures in heaven, and inaugurated heavenly temple structures. We turn now to consider portrayals of heaven as constituting rather than containing a temple.

Temple as heaven

As we move further along the spectrum, we turn to the Testament of Levi, a text that displays significant dependence upon the Enochic literature. ⁴⁰ In response to his prayer for deliverance and vengeance after his sister Dinah’s rape, Levi sees heaven opened in a vision and is invited to enter by an angel. He sees a first and second heaven, and is given an explanation of the three heavens (T. Levi 2–3). The “uppermost heaven of all” is where God dwells “in the Holy of Holies superior to all holiness” (3:4). God is served by archangels, offering “a rational and bloodless oblation,” and receives eternal praises (3:5–8). After Levi is assured that his prayer has been heard, the gates of heaven are opened to him and he sees “the Holy Most High sitting on the throne,” who gives him the priesthood and commissions him to take vengeance on Shechem (5:1–3). There is evidence in the textual tradition of development, and it is possible that the original version of the text had a single-tiered heaven; conversely, some text forms expand 3:1–8 to include seven heavens. ⁴¹ While the traditions with a multiply-tiered heaven make its cultic aspect more explicit, all alike regard the highest heaven as the dwelling place of God on his throne. Unlike 1 Enoch 14, there are no architectural specifications and it is clear that heaven is co-extensive with the sanctuary; opening “the gates of heaven” yields a direct vision of the throne (5:1). ⁴² This represents an important distinction from the texts under the previous heading, yet there is continuity in the clear indications of a heavenly cult and access through ascent.

Numerous texts feature multiple heavens, usually numbered as three or seven. ⁴³ Third Baruch proceeds through a series of five heavens, and the fifth is the most holy—so holy, indeed, that Baruch is not permitted to enter. The gates remain closed until Michael comes (3 Bar. 11:2–5; 15:1), and after his departure they close again (14:1; 17:1). Indications of cultic activity are attenuated, but Michael holds a vast bowl to receive “the virtues of the righteous and the good works which they do,” ⁴⁴ which is filled by angels and which he then takes to offer in heaven (11:9–12:8); on his return, he brings oil as a reward (15:1–4). ⁴⁵ Details of the contents of the fifth heaven and its worship are sparse, as it is a closed and inaccessible space; while I think this is most likely identified with the sanctuary, it is not inconceivable that a building might lie within the fifth heaven, locating 3 Baruch with the texts above.

Alongside 3 Baruch, and even less detailed, we can note the Testament of Abraham, which alongside descriptions of heaven’s gates and a golden throne (10:15; 11:1–9) has clear indications of angelic worship (20:12–14[A]; 4:4[B]) as Abraham is taken into heaven. Another brief indication of heaven’s equivalence with a temple is found in the Prayer of Azariah, which proclaims, “Blessed are you in the temple of your holy glory, [. . .] Blessed are you in the firmament of heaven” (1:31, 34). A similar notion in a rather different setting is found in Jubilees, which retells the Genesis and Exodus accounts with an emphasis both on extending the sacrificial cult back into the days of the patriarchs (so, for example, Noah’s sacrifice takes on particular importance, Jub. 6, and Abraham is first to celebrate the festival of tabernacles, 16:20–31), and also on the precise regularity and eternity of the cult offered in accordance with a solar calendar (see, for example, Jub. 49:7–8). One aspect which undergirds this regular cult is its mirroring of the heavenly cult, although again indications are fairly sparse; Levi and his descendants are to minister before God just as the angels do, “to serve in his sanctuary as the angels of the presence and the holy ones” (Jub. 30:18; 31:14; cf. the angels’ keeping of the Sabbath in heaven, 2:18–19). ⁴⁶ As with 3 Baruch, it is hard to specify with certainty whether the Testament of Abraham and Jubilees evince a temple in heaven or temple as heaven.

We turn now to two Christian texts, the first of which is the Epistle to the Hebrews. Its interest in the heavenly sanctuary revolves around its conception of Jesus as a Melchizedekian high priest who has offered the ultimate Yom Kippur sacrifice in the heavenly tabernacle. He has “passed through the heavens” (Heb 4:14), entering the most holy place ⁴⁷ “through the greater and more perfect tent, not made with hands, that is, not of this creation” (9:11–12). These verses seem to intimate a sanctuary in heaven, and/or multiple heavens; other passages, however, suggest a tabernacle–heaven equivalence. Jesus “is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens, a minister in the sanctuary and the true tent that the Lord has set up” (8:1–2). Whereas the earthly high priest entered “a sanctuary made by human hands, a copy of the true one,” Christ “entered into heaven itself” (9:24). The earthly–heavenly correspondence is writ large; the earthly tabernacle is “a sketch and shadow of the heavenly one” (8:5, citing Exod 25:40). In terms of furnishings, the heavenly sanctuary contains the “throne of grace” (a reference to the mercy seat, Heb 4:16), presumably to be identified with the divine throne upon (or to the right of) which Christ has sat down (for example, 8:1; 10:11–14). While the correspondence between earthly and heavenly tabernacles is of great importance, little is made of the furnishings mentioned in describing the earthly tabernacle in 9:1–5. ⁴⁸ In terms of the cult, there are indications that Jesus’ followers offer worship (13:15–16), just as the angels worship and serve (1:6, 14), but the overwhelming focus is Jesus’ completed sacrifice. This comes close to eclipsing all other cultic offerings and personnel, to the extent that neither believers nor angels are explicitly described as priests.

The second Christian text is the Apocalypse of John, mentioned briefly earlier. In John’s vision, heaven is a throne room-sanctuary into which John ascends (Rev 4:1) and views celestial worship (Rev 4–5; 19:1–10) and repeated emanations of judgment (11:19; 14:15–17; 15:5–8). It contains the divine throne (passim), the incense altar (8:3–5), the ark of the covenant (11:19), and angelic attendants who serve with censers, trumpets, and bowls. The heavenly temple is most often described as a “sanctuary” (ναός), though on three occasions σκηνή is used, indicating the tent of testimony (15:5) and either the tabernacle or God’s dwelling more generally (13:6; 21:3). There is little indication of architectural features or of multiple chambers; instead, when the “door in heaven” is opened, John can see straight into the most holy place itself (4:1; cf. 6:14–16). This indicates that instead of a temple structure within heaven—as Rev 11:19, 14:17, and 15:5 might initially suggest—what is actually envisaged is temple as heaven, with ongoing worship but also transition between the earthly and heavenly realms for revelation (to John), judgment (by the angels), and salvation (of martyrs, 6:9–11). ⁴⁹ Alongside this predominant depiction of temple as heaven, there are two variations at the book’s start and end. John’s initial vision in Rev 1:9–20 possibly indicates a temple as cosmos model, because before his heavenly ascent, John finds himself among seven lampstands—a variation on the menorah which stood in the holy place. If this is to be read this way, then Revelation should either be located further along the spectrum with the texts below, or (if we take the “in heaven” language to indicate a structure within heaven) displays three different conceptions straddling points two to four. Turning to the book’s end, the stated absence of a temple in the eschaton (21:22) is accounted for by the transformation of the entire New Jerusalem into a garden-city-sanctuary; it is the “dwelling” (tabernacle, σκηνή) of God with his people (21:3), and has the dimensions of the most holy place, a perfect cube (21:16). This eschatological holy city is consonant with a number of the texts reviewed earlier, though it represents perhaps more explicitly a unification of heaven and earth.

As signaled in the introduction, although Philo of Alexandria is generally taken to equate temple with cosmos, he in fact displays a variety of approaches to temple symbolism. A key passage is in On the Special Laws:

We should consider the whole universe [τὸν σύμπαντα . . . κόσμον] to be the highest and truest temple of God [τὸ μὲν ἀνωτάτω καὶ πρὸς ἀλήθειαν ἱερὸν θεοῦ], as it has for its sanctuary [νεὼ] the most holy part of the existence of all things, heaven [οὐρανόν]; for offerings, the stars; for priests, the underservants of his powers, the angels, incorporeal souls . . . (Spec. Laws 1.66)

This is not a simple equation of the entire cosmos with the temple; rather, Philo makes a careful distinction between the temple complex (denoted consistently with τὸ ἱερόν) and the sanctuary proper, the temple building itself with porch and outer and inner chambers (which is consistently indicated with νεώς). ⁵⁰ To equate the whole universe with the temple complex entails identifying heaven itself with the actual temple building; and thus, we find ourselves with a picture which is only marginally different from the Apocalypse of John’s portrayal of heaven as a ναός. ⁵¹ What is more, Philo does not here dwell on the outer courts or elaborate their significance or symbolism in relation to aspects of the visible or physical universe, but instead moves on to describe the Jerusalem temple (1.67–78) before then discussing the cosmic symbolism of priestly garments (1.79–97). His primary interest in 1.66 is the heaven-as-temple-proper correspondence, and in line with this he has here, as Klawans notes but underplays, a clear angelology and also (throughout his corpus) a developed theory of emanation of the divine presence. This is an impeccably borderline case; both temple(-sanctuary) as heaven and temple(-complex) as cosmos. As such it well demonstrates the gradation of positions that I am charting here. At this point, we have moved from temple plan in heaven, through temple in heaven (whether not yet functioning or already operational), to temple as heaven, with Philo’s Special Laws passage drawing on the architecture of the Jerusalem temple-complex to articulate both temple as heaven and temple-precinct as cosmos, thus pivoting us toward the final heading.

Temple as cosmos

As we turn to the last point on the spectrum, we will look initially at Josephus before correlating his perspective with another key passage in Philo. Josephus’ interest is largely historical and descriptive, with important descriptions of the tabernacle (Ant. 3.102–257) and Solomon’s (Ant. 8.63–98) and Herod’s temples (Ant. 15.380–425; J.W. 5.184–247). ⁵² In describing the tabernacle, however, he compares it to the universe; it was fashioned as an “imitation and representation of the universe” (εἰς ἀπομίμησιν καὶ διατύπωσιν τῶν ὅλων, Ant. 3.180). ⁵³ Moses divided the tabernacle’s 30 cubit length into three equal parts, and by appointing two of them for the priests as a space “accessible and in common, he signifies the earth and the sea [ὥσπερ βέβηλόν τινα καὶ κοινὸν τόπον τὴν γῆν καὶ τὴν θάλασσαν ἀποσημαίνει], for these also are accessible to all [πᾶσίν ἐστιν ἐπιβατα].” But the third portion (that is, the most holy place, a cube of 10 cubits) is restricted to God, because “the heaven also is inaccessible to men” (διὰ τὸ καὶ τὸν οὐρανὸν ἀνεπίβατον εἶναι ἀνθρώποις, 3.181; cf. 3.123). Within the physical creation represented by the tabernacle’s outer chamber, the 12 loaves of showbread represent the 12 months, and the sevenfold lampstands the seven planets (3.182). Juxtaposed with the passage from Philo’s Special Laws, the differences become clear; here, Josephus equates the tabernacle sanctuary alone with heaven, earth, and sea, whereas there, Philo identified the temple complex with the universe and heaven with the sanctuary. It is only with this description from Josephus that we actually land fully in a temple-as-cosmos model.

A similar tradition was however known to Philo; in Questions and Answers on Exodus, he describes the inner chamber as “holy and truly divine,” whereas the outer chamber “indicates the changeable parts of the world which are sublunary” (QE 2.91, cf. 94). And in On the Life of Moses, he describes the tabernacle at some length (Moses 2.71–160); when he comes to the incense altar, he notes that it was placed “in the middle of earth and water, as a symbol of thanksgiving” (μέσον μὲν τὸ θυμιατήριον γῆς καὶ ὕδατος σύμβολον εὐχαριστίας, Moses 2.101). ⁵⁴ In this context, he identifies the cherubim of the ark as God’s creative and royal powers (2.98–99) ⁵⁵ and the seven-branched lampstand as the seven planets, and relates the table to the winds which provide nourishment (2.102–4). This passage is consonant with Josephus’ description, though direct dependence is unlikely; but it represents a different perspective from the Special Laws, above.

In another passage, Philo states that there are two temples: one is the rational soul and the other is the universe (κόσμος, Dreams 1.215). Here, he does not dwell on cosmological details, but compares the high priest in the universe with the “true person” (ὁ πρὸς ἀλήθειαν ἄνθρωπος) within the soul. Later, he elaborates on the status of the high priest as the Logos, the divine rational principle operative within creation, who both represents and also surpasses humanity in his intermediary function (supremely on the Day of Atonement, Dreams 2.185–89). ⁵⁶ Philo also comments on the Exodus 25 tradition; in keeping with his Platonist–Jewish synthesis, he describes Moses as seeing incorporeal ideas, a model, and patterns (ἀρχέτυπος, παραδείγματα) which he then reproduced accurately in matter in constructing the tabernacle (Moses 2.74–76; cf. QE 2.90). This might appear to be the same notion as discussed under category one earlier, plans or blueprints; but given the superiority of the incorporeal realm and the importance of the term παράδειγμα within Platonist thought, this rather denotes the eternal forms on which created things are based. It is not clear from this passage whether Philo imagines a perfect form of the sanctuary, or the sanctuary imitating the eternal realm more widely; ⁵⁷ but the shared language of παράδειγμα and notion of correspondence make it easy for him to draw Plato (cf. Timaeus 29a6–b1) and the Septuagint together here. In sum, both Philo and Josephus present distinctively Jewish construals of the equivalence of the whole cosmos with a temple—not any temple, but specifically Israel’s sanctuary.

Cosmic-cultic symbolism and temple as paradise

Before concluding, brief mention needs to be made of two related notions. The first, which is related to but not identical with temple as cosmos, is cosmic-cultic symbolism, whereby items associated with the cult are invested with cosmic significance. We find this extensively in Josephus and Philo, particularly with regard to the high priest’s garments, which are in themselves a microcosm. Their threads symbolize earth, air, heaven, and water; the two shoulder pieces represent the hemispheres or the sun and moon; the bells and pomegranates signify harmony and water or thunder and lightning, and so forth. ⁵⁸ So also the four colored threads of the temple veil represent the four elements (Jos., Ant. 3.183; J.W. 5.210–14), and sacrificial animals and incense are susceptible to similar interpretations (Philo, QG 3.3; Heir 196–97). These elucidations underline the sense of the Jerusalem cult’s cosmic significance, but they operate at the level of symbolism rather than correspondence. That is, rather than holding that the universe or heaven is or contains a temple, and that the earthly sanctuary represents this greater reality, these explanations of cultic garments and accouterments connect specific aspects to particular cosmic phenomena, usually without regard for a broader coherent picture or correspondence. ⁵⁹ They are not unrelated to the material above, but spatial and systematic aspects of the sanctuary-cosmos correspondence are missing. ⁶⁰

The second related notion is temple as paradise. In this correspondence, paradise or the earth is depicted as a sanctuary or vice versa. ⁶¹ This is relatively commonplace in ancient Near Eastern texts, as well as being found in the Hebrew Bible (note frequent depictions of vegetation in the temple, for example, in the courts, Ps 92:12–14, or on the bronze pillars, 1 Kings 7:15–22). ⁶² Once again attention to shades of nuance is required; if creation as a whole is a sanctuary, including the firmament and heavens—or if an outer part of a sanctuary is connected with the earth or Eden—then I would regard this as temple as cosmos. ⁶³ Eden or paradise can, further, be associated with or symbolic of eschatological realities, just like Zion, Jerusalem, and the temple. ⁶⁴ There are places, however, where such a correspondence is made without reference to heaven, such as in Jubilees where Eden is described as “the holy of holies and the dwelling of the Lord” (8:19). ⁶⁵ These instances bear global significance but do not witness to a heaven–temple connection, and so should be treated as a related category, and not part of the spectrum that this taxonomy seeks to delineate.

Conclusion

The notion of a heavenly temple held great importance for Second Temple texts and authors, and was a rich source of varied reflection. I have argued that the common distinction between temple-in-heaven and temple-as-universe is inadequate, especially where this distinction is construed along an apocalyptic versus Hellenistic divide, and in its place have proposed a fourfold taxonomy. As the discussion of specific texts earlier demonstrates, the issue with the binary distinction is primarily its missing middle term. By treating the idea of “temple as heaven” separately, it becomes possible to see that there is only a small step from this to “temple as cosmos,” because some temple-as-heaven texts equate heaven or the highest heaven with a single-chambered sanctuary, leaving open the possibility that outer chambers or courts might reflect lower parts of the cosmos. It is precisely this possibility that Philo exploits, and a close reading of On the Special Laws revealed both temple-sanctuary as heaven and temple-complex as cosmos in the same passage, thus distinguishing him from Josephus’ equation of the cosmos with the tabernacle alone. Indeed, the gradations of holy space that were present in the tabernacle and extended in Solomon’s and Herod’s temples naturally lent themselves to a variety of graded approaches to the universe. ⁶⁶ Crucial to the proposed taxonomy, then, is its delineation of a spectrum of possible construals of the heaven–temple relationship; we are dealing with differences of degree more than of kind. Whether or not I have persuaded the reader in my analysis of each and every text—differing assessments of many of them can and have been offered—I hope to have given a more precise and serviceable framework by which discussion and analysis of the heaven–temple correlation can be articulated.