Joel 1:1–20 · NIVAC

Original Meaning

Heading (1:1)

JOEL’S PROPHECIES ARE headed by two elements in addition to his name. First is the designation “the word of the LORD,” which is frequent in all the prophetic books except Daniel, Obadiah, Nahum, and Habakkuk. It also heads Ezra (Ezra 1:1), which is not a prophetic book but a work of history. Therefore, the term should not be understood as indicating strictly literary genre. Rather, it indicates that the source of its contents is divine, deriving its authority from God rather than from either a king or another human being.

The Hebrew term lying behind “the LORD” is yhwh, the personal name of Israel’s God. Technical studies refer to the name as the Tetragrammaton, that is, the four-letter word par excellence. Its pronunciation is not known, since between the Testaments it stopped being pronounced, being replaced by the Hebrew word for “Lord” (ʾādôn). From here it passed through Greek (kyrios = “Lord”) to most of our English translations, which also use “Lord,” though often done in small caps as “LORD.” The New Jerusalem Bible is rare among English translations in presenting the form correctly as “Yahweh.”

The difference between the “Yahweh” and the term “Lord” can at times be significant since Yahweh, a personal name, indicates an intimacy and covenant whereas “Lord” suggests a relationship of hierarchical and power differentiation. In other words, Israel is addressed by their God, with whom they are on a first-name basis, rather than by one who holds himself aloof because of his superior position. Yahweh plays the key role in the book, his name occurring more than any other word (thirty-three times). He is also the Author of the book, or at least the one inspiring its message. We know much more about him, not only from this book but also from the rest of Scripture, than we know about the book’s human author.

“Joel” means “Yah[weh] is God.” The name provides little help in dating the prophecy, since a dozen people in the Old Testament have this name, ranging between the tenth and fifth centuries B.C. Joel’s father is Pethuel. His name means “a youth of/belonging to El,” which reflects his parents’ understanding of the divine source of offspring. He is unknown apart from this reference. The LXX (along with Syriac and Old Latin) read the name as “Bethuel” (“man of God”), replacing the voiceless “p” with the voiced “b.” That name is used both for a person (the father of Rebekah and Laban, Gen. 22:22–23; 24:15, 24, 47, 50; 28:5) and an unidentified place (1 Chron. 4:30; cf. Josh. 19:4). The textual evidence for the switch is not compelling.

Bridging Contexts

PROPHETIC IDENTIFICATION. Prophets in the Old Testament are regularly identified at least by name, though usually extra information is given about them or about the book associated with them. This information includes such things as: the father’s name (e.g., Isa. 1:1; Jer. 1:1), additional ancestors (e.g., Zeph. 1:1; Zech. 1:1), the hometown or ancestral home and/or profession (e.g., Jer. 1:1; Amos 1:1), the genre of the book (e.g., Isa. 1:1; Jer. 1:1), the book’s divine source (e.g., Jer.1:2; Hos. 1:1–2), and the book’s date (e.g., Jer. 1:2; Hos. 1:1).

One of the purposes of identification could have been for verification or “quality control.” We have little information on the actual process of the collection and recording of individual prophetic utterances, whether by the instigation of the prophet himself (cf. Jer. 36) or by a group of disciples (cf. Isa. 8:16). Those reading the prophetic “transcripts” may have consulted their prophetic originator or at least recognized him as an accepted authority whose name and credentials are known (cf. Jer. 26:18, referring to the prophecy of Micah). Of greater import, at least regarding the nature of the document as a true prophecy, is the identity of the true Author, the deity who is its divine source. In this case, it is Yahweh, Israel’s covenant God.

What’s in a name? In the West today, names for one’s children are most commonly chosen in order to honor family members who preceded them, to sound good in conjunction with the family name, or else just to follow what the fashionable nom du jour might be. Most people have no understanding of any meaning underlying the names they choose. The meaning of most Western names has become opaque; that is, it is not readily clear even to native language speakers what the historical background or meaning of a name might be.

In a number of languages this is not the case. In them, personal names are transparent, carrying a readily identifiable meaning. This is the case for the Semitic language family, of which Hebrew is a member. They build their names from regular words in the language. For example, David means “beloved,” a meaning that comes through for the form of the word appearing in Song of Songs 1:1; Nabal means “fool,” as his wife readily acknowledges (1 Sam. 25:25); and Mahlon and Kilion, the sons of Elimelech and Naomi (Ruth 1:2), derive from roots that mean “sicky” and “on his last legs,” appropriate names for the context of their story.

Since Hebrew names have meanings, they are often chosen because of the relevance of the meaning to the parents, either reflecting a prayer for divine aid (e.g., Nathaniel, “God has given [a son]”) or to indicate their state of mind at the time. For example, Benjamin, originally named by his mother, who was dying in childbirth, was named Ben-Oni, “son of my sorrow.” Again, Leah, Jacob’s first wife, thought that by bearing a son for her husband she would garner her husband’s love, so she named him Reuben, which means “Look! A son.”

Joel’s name, meaning “Yah[weh] is God,” is therefore an affirmation of Yahwistic monotheism. ʾEl is the general Semitic noun for deity, usually translated with the upper case (“God”) if referring to the proper name of a deity and with the lower case (“god”) if referring in general to a foreign deity. It is also the name of the deity at the head of the Canaanite pantheon, El. For a major portion of her existence, Israel was particularly attracted to the Canaanite religious practices, and Israelite prophets and priests had to be ever vigilant lest syncretistic practices be incorporated into Israel (cf. 1 Kings 18; Hos. 2). Joel’s name reflects his parents’ religious sentiments. For them it is not El who is god, but Yahweh is the true El.

Literary craftsmanship. There is a difference between setting words on paper and crafting them into art. Both deliver information, but care in craftsmanship can deliver it with greater power and impact. Numerous biblical writers, including Joel, use word choice and structure with skill. Joel uses sounds to tie together some of his work, though since the sound of words are specific to the original language, they do not readily translate into English.65 Structural elements are more transportable when translated, so non-Hebrew speakers are fortunate that biblical writers used a number of these structural features in their work.

The structural form Joel uses in Joel 1:5–14 is a chiasm or envelope construction (see also comment on 2:6). It can be diagrammed something like an arrow point, with the first and last elements of the piece repeating the same ideas or even the same vocabulary, likewise for the second and next-to-last elements, and so on. Frequently the middle element, the actual point of the arrow, is the highlighted key point of the passage. An excellent example is the book of Amos, which appears to be entirely structured as a chiasm around the central turning point of 5:8b. While the sentence looks like it interrupts a doxology and may have been placed where it is by mistake, the chiasm form shows that the theologically pivotal element of the entire book is “Yahweh is his name.”66

Using this principle, the highlighted element of Joel’s lament is the loss of opportunity to offer to God the sacrifices due him. While the loss of food is significant for any nation (1:16), loss of sacrifice is even more severe. Not only is physical life endangered, but so is a continuing covenant relationship between Israel and her God.

Wine and alcohol. Wine was a common staple in the Israelite diet67 and thus an important part of the agricultural life of the community. In a two-month period during the summer (August–September; Num. 13:20),68 juicy wine-grapes and other summer fruit (Jer. 40:10–12) are gathered with rejoicing in the bounty of the harvest (Isa. 16:10; Jer. 48:33). They are then taken to the winepress (Isa. 16:10; 65:8).69 Such a press is formed from natural stone or is stone purpose-formed for the process (Isa. 5:2). The grapes are laid in its upper basin and trodden underfoot, squeezing out the juice (Job 24:11; Neh. 13:15; Isa. 63:3; Jer. 25:30; 48:33; Joel 3:13; Amos 9:13; Mic. 6:15). The juice in turn runs down a channel into a lower, holding basin, where the natural fermentation process immediately commences.

Early stage juice is ʿasîs (“must”; Song 8:2; Isa. 49:26; Joel 1:5; 3:18; Amos 9:13). When most of the active fermentation is complete, the result is transferred to jars or wineskins to allow the process to continue. This is the stage identified as tîrôš (“new wine”). After approximately forty days it becomes wine (yāyin) and is now suitable for drinking (see Mic. 6:15 for the two stages of wine-making, the juice of newly trodden grapes and the wine itself). Some of this is allowed to mature with its lees, so it needs straining (Isa. 2:6). Usually after the forty days, it is decanted into a new vessel or skin in order to separate the liquid from the lees. Otherwise, the resultant wine becomes too sweet and thick and is more prone to spoil (Jer. 48:11–12).70

Alcohol use was part of daily life in the ancient Near East. In Israel wine was a daily staple, a blessing from God (e.g., Gen. 27:5; Deut. 7:13; 11:14; Judg. 19:19; Ruth 2:14). It was cause for celebration and gladness (e.g., Judg. 9:13; Ps. 104:15; Song 5:1; Zech. 10:7; John 2:1–11) and accompanied formal occasions (e.g., Gen. 14:18), even forming part of the people’s tithes to Yahweh himself (e.g., Deut. 12:17; 14:23, 26; Tobit 1:7).

Wine apparently contains alcohol even in its earliest stages, though this increases during the fermentation process. The must (ʿasîs) causes inebriation (Isa. 49:26), which is also implied for new wine (tîrôš; Judg. 9:13; Hos. 4:11). Wine (yāyin) is regularly associated with other fermented drink, most probably beer (e.g., Lev. 10:9; Num. 6:3; Mic. 2:11), and is intoxicating (e.g., Gen. 9:21; Isa. 29:9). In spite of its possible misuse leading to intoxication, wine drinking is never generally prohibited. Priests are forbidden intoxicants when they are actively involved in Israel’s rituals in order that their powers of discernment will not be clouded (Lev. 10:9–10).

While drunkenness is discouraged, there does not seem to be an understanding of its being evil per se, though it can produce evil results. Even Noah, the first recorded inebriate (Gen. 9:18), was not condemned for his drunken state. While wisdom literature and the prophets note its debilitating effects, neither do they condemn its use outright. It is just its use in excess that is warned against (e.g., Tobit 4:15; Eph. 5:18).

Wine use continues in the New Testament. Some, such as John the Baptist, carried on the practice of abstinence from alcohol established for the Nazirites (Num. 6:3; Luke 1:15; 7:33). Jesus, in contrast, did partake of wine (Luke 7:33), even providing it for a wedding party in his first miracle at Cana as evidence of his power and glory (John 2:1–11).

Ritual disruption. Some Israelite rituals were annual events (e.g, the festivals described in Lev. 23:4–44; Num. 28:16–29:39). Others occurred more frequently, on weekly or monthly cycles (Lev. 23:3; Num. 28:9–10 and Num. 28:11–15, respectively), or even on a twice daily basis (Num. 28:3–8). They formed the organizing structure for Israelite religious life, providing opportunity for celebration and repentance. The loss of cereal crops and grapes and the subsequent impossibility of presenting cereal and drink offerings affected these twice daily rituals, which included both burnt and cereal offerings, along with accompanying drink offerings (Ex. 29:38–41; Num. 28:5–7). Their loss also affected the occasional sacrifices, such as those to purify people cleansed from a skin disease (Lev. 14:10, 20, 21, 31), those part of the jealousy ritual (Num. 5:15, 18, 25, 26), and most of the annual festivals (Num. 29). Religious life in Israel is being seriously disrupted during the time of Joel.

Among Israel’s neighbors, especially those in Mesopotamia, the inability to bring a sacrifice caused an even severer difficulty, since sacrifice by humans provided food for the gods.71 With disruption of sacrifice also came the disruption of the mealtimes of the gods, with serious consequences. This is shown in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Babylonian Flood story. There the sacrifices stopped because of the ill-planned actions of one of the gods, whose flood, which was brought to destroy humanity, frightened even the gods themselves. When sacrifices finally resumed after the flood had subsided, the starving “gods crowded around the sacrificer like flies.”72 They became dependent on humans and were starving without them.

The continued dependence is shown in Assyrian royal inscriptions, in which Mesopotamian kings listed some of their more important accomplishments. Often included are building temples for various named gods, where they received worship, including offerings. Several inscriptions also mention building beer vats and storage areas, places to prepare and keep the necessities of life for their survival;73 several also mention bringing regular offerings.74

It was important to look after the gods, because they in turn looked after the city, blessing its inhabitants with provisions. Therefore, if the gods should for some reason depart from a city, that was a serious concern indeed. The capture of one city by another is described in royal annals by saying that the gods of city X (the defeated) left to go to city Y (the conqueror), or that they were taken away by force.75

This necessary care for the gods, in order for them to care for the people, was used on a political level by Cyrus, the Persian king who brought the Babylonian empire to an end (see 2 Chron. 36:22–23; Ezra 1:1–2:1). He claimed that his ability to take over from the Babylonian rulers was because they neglected their own gods, who turned to Cyrus himself for aid.76 While Israel has a completely different view of the relationship between their God and the sacrifices brought to him than do the Assyrians and Babylonians, the inability to bring offerings and sacrifices he expected was still a serious concern.

Agriculture and religion. Prinsloo rightly observes that, for Israel, “farming and religion are intimately linked.”77 A physical link has been suggested for Canaanite Baal worshipers through the fertility cult and ritual prostitution (cf. Jer. 2:23; Hos. 2:13 are suggested).78 In contrast, orthodox Israelite tradition is monolithic in its ascription of agricultural bounty to God for theological rather than physical reasons. He initially established vegetation (Gen. 1:11–12) and provided it for the sustenance of his creatures (Joel 1:29–30). His provision for humanity was special (2:8–9, 16), though its misuse had eternal ramifications (Gen. 3). Thus, good or ill could blossom from the same branch.

For a people living in a marginal agricultural zone such as the land of Canaan/Israel, agricultural produce was especially seen as divine blessing (e.g., Deut 8:8), the very mainstays of life.79 If one maintained a correct relationship with God, this blessing would flow (Deut. 28:1–12); but if one became estranged, it would be withheld as punishment (28:15–18, 23–24). The loss of agricultural provision was thus not understood as a “natural” calamity, happening apart from God and his working. It was in fact a clarion call to return to him, following his covenant, so that blessing could then flow. He was still the covenant God, Yahweh, who was committed to his people, which is the focus of Habakkuk’s message. He declares:

Though the fig tree does not bud

and there are no grapes on the vines,

though the olive crop fails

and the fields produce no food,

though there are no sheep in the pen

and no cattle in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the LORD,

I will be joyful in God my Savior. (Hab. 3:17–18)

Habakkuk is directing the people’s attention to the Giver rather than to the gift. They must remember that it is the relationship with their Great King that needs to be carefully preserved. If that is in good order, all the rest falls into line.

Contemporary Significance

SELF-IDENTIFICATION. In today’s world, what is the mark of a Christian? In Joel’s day, one’s religious commitments could at times be determined by the name you bore. Some parents still choose names today because of their religious associations (e.g., David, Paul, even Jesus in many Spanish-speaking countries), but because of rampant biblical illiteracy, at least in the First World, most people do not make the biblical tie-in when they hear the name. This is no different from using the English names of the days of the week, all of which are etymologically related to either astral bodies or pagan deities. Anyone who doesn’t know their historical grammar doesn’t make the connection.

Some today wear religious jewelry—crucifixes among the more traditional, and WWJD (“What Would Jesus Do?”) items among evangelicals. These may at times carry a message to the initiated, those on the inside who know what they symbolize, but most do not know this or even notice them as anything more than jewelry. We don’t know for sure what Jesus would do, but most probably he would not present his religious awareness in this manner. He knew the history of his people, who were taught that “man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7). His disciples understood that it is not outward finery that indicates who one is, but rather one’s inner character (e.g., 1 Tim. 2:9; James 2:2; 1 Peter 3:3).

This is not a discussion about acceptable clothing practices, however, but about one’s self-identification with God. While some of the means mentioned might be an indication to the initiated, that is not to be the approach of the Christian. We are not to be isolated from anyone unlike us, but to be a light on the hill for those who have not received their own new identity in Christ. We need a public self-identification, which is one of the functions of baptism. While that step is important, it is not readily discernable, something that a colleague or classmate sees. In this context, there is truth in the words sung by the last generation: “They will know we are Christians by our love,” not by our name or our jewelry.80

Alcohol and the Christian. Many North American churches have developed a view of the appropriateness of alcohol use at variance with that found in the Bible, where it is clearly used without condemnation.81 Some prohibitionists argue that the Hebrew and Greek terminology also allows for grape juice, which is unfermented. This may be so in some cases, but the terms also clearly apply to fermented drinks, since drinking them at times resulted in drunkenness (e.g., Gen. 9:21; Acts 2:13–14; Eph. 5:18). What Scripture condemns is intoxication, the loss of one’s facilities to distinguish appropriate from inappropriate actions as a result of excess consumption of alcohol (Lev. 10:9).82

To protect people from intoxication is laudable, but it is inappropriate to deprive people of Christian freedom based on their potential abuse. What the church should seek is Christian maturity, discipling its members into moderation, not only in alcohol consumption (see Sir. 31:27–28), but in all things. While alcoholism is a real problem, even the daily news reports point out that obesity is much more pervasive and potentially devastating. Consistency in Christian concern for the welfare of others must not stop, therefore, with sobriety but must also include gluttony. In the end, while the church can educate in these areas of excess, it is individual Christians who must monitor their own behavior.

Teachable moments. Formal education is planned with an established curriculum that is previously designed with some goal in mind. This holds for schools whether in the traditional educational system or on Sunday morning. Informal education (e.g., in a family) is most regularly serendipitous and unrehearsed, but it is no less formative. The latter is particularly driven by teachable moments, events encountered during the course of life that provide a natural segue into something that can be learned.

An example of the difference between formal and informal education could involve teaching children the facts of life. Educational systems have sex education curricula in place, and these have often proven lightning rods for controversy for various reasons. One of the reasons for the debate derives from the artificial nature of the process; when is it appropriate to provide certain levels of information? This type of question seems to have arisen in the main since so many people have lost contact with life on the farm or since pets are regularly neutered. While this is not advocating either rural life or the merits of spaying, the actual encounter with child (or puppy) birth does provide a natural teachable moment on the subject of reproduction.

The locust plague in the time of Joel supplies a teachable moment for God, especially since he has a rapt audience because of the vital nature of the topic. The inability of the people to bring their vegetable sacrifices was a time of national importance of which everyone was aware. God uses it to teach concerning his power and his grace, the present and the future, and his own relationship with nature. Much of the power of the teaching derives from its real-life relevance to the questions being asked at that particular moment.

Part of the role of the church is to be on the lookout for teachable moments. My own preferred preaching style is expository, following through a text from beginning to end over a period of time. This allows the entire message of the passage to come to the fore, not just those bits I prefer or am more comfortable with. Part of this process, however, is to be constantly exegeting the congregation as well as the text. While one may have only been partway through a ten-week series on an epistle, the message preached in North America on September 16, 2001, demanded its focus be on the events that had taken place in New York, Washington, and a Pennsylvania field several days previously. Sometimes we don’t need to search for teachable moments; they come crashing into our lives.

There must be advance preparation for these moments, however, since often their force and immediacy make it difficult to render a reasoned response directly after the event. This preparation includes the ability to process and address things theologically and with our minds as well as emotionally. Jesus is an example of this on many occasions, but certainly on the cross. One of his colleagues in crucifixion called on Jesus to use his claimed power to spare himself and them from the real pain and death they faced (Luke 23:39). The natural, visceral response was to do just that, since it was certainly within his power to do so. His theology did not allow his bodily pain to determine his response, however. The reason for his incarnation was to provide atonement for sin and to show the victory of the Christ over the power of sin and death. Neither of these could happen if he had left the cross. His theology won out over personal expediency.

This is a problem for much of the contemporary church, at least in the West. Our encounters with God are too often based only on personal experience rather than on theological reflection. When we find ourselves facing an experience of pain or grief, our theology is only a veneer, a surface without substance that does not allow us to address the deep questions of the heart. When a child dies, a business fails, or a horror is perpetrated, previous encounters with God with the mind and soul as well as in the heart are needed to provide what is necessary for the teachable moment. It is these prior reflections that help us to be ready to explain the hope that is within us (1 Peter 3:15).

Destruction. Since most Westerners are not agriculturalists, our comprehension of the magnitude of crop devastation through swarming locusts is meager. For many, the only reality of insect swarms has been a mess on the car windshield. This has not always been the case, however, since even in North America farmers still experience the helpless horror of such events. A powerful reminder of the psychological, physical, and economic impact is found in Laura Ingalls Wilder’s On the Banks of Plum Creek.83 For others of us, a starker comparison is the total destruction caused by explosions at the Federal Building in Oklahoma City or the World Trade center in New York. In the latter, there is physical loss, which has subsequent psychological and economic ramifications leading to consequences far beyond the physical zone of destruction. Like locusts that cut a swath through an entire territory, depriving many families of not only livelihood but also sustenance, so the entire U.S. economy has felt the impact.

It is events such as these, whether deriving from natural or human causes, that force us to realize that we are not ultimately in control of our own destiny. We can send people to walk on the moon, but a loose piece of shielding can also bring our rocket tumbling to the ground. We can protect the life of a severely premature baby who can’t even breathe on its own, but we can’t stop its parents from using the drugs to cause the premature delivery in the first place, and which also render the baby addicted before it is even born. We can prepare for our family’s well-being through IRAs, insurance, and a financial plan, but we have no control over the cancer cells starting to form in our own body.

In each of these instances, we have no control, and we can but scream into the night, “Why?” Our scream does not go into the void, for the Bible, through such books as Joel, shows us that there is a listening ear for these heart cries. We may not get the answer that we sought, as in the instance of Job 38–42, or even any answer at all, as in Jesus’ own cry of dereliction (Matt. 27:46; Mark 15:34; cf. Ps. 22:1). We do know through Scripture and through our own prior encounters with the God revealed in Scripture that he exists, that he creates and thus is sovereign, and that he knows and cares about our lives. When we, individually or as a community, face the “dark night of the soul” spoken of by John of the Cross and experienced by each one of us, we do not stand alone or in darkness.

Our experience needs to be informed by our theology, that the God of life and light suffered through his Son as we do (Rom. 8:17; 2 Cor. 1:5; Phil. 3:10; 1 Peter 4:13; 5:1). He is not just the God of light, however. After delivering the Ten Commandments to the people, Moses went back up the mountain and “approached the thick darkness where God was” (Ex. 20:21). In going into the darkness, neither Moses nor we are leaving the presence of God, since he is the God who is there as well. While we might not know the “why” in our despair, we can stand on the foundation of the “Who” that is with us in it.

Warning. There seem to be two extremes in popular preaching and writing, with vacillation between the two at different times and locations. One is the “hellfire-and-brimstone; turn-or-burn” type of message, which seeks to scare people into the kingdom by describing God the Judge (cf. the classic “Sinners in the Hand of an Angry God,” preached by Jonathan Edwards on July 8, 1741).84 The other is the “gentle Jesus, meek and mild; God our Father, Christ our brother” type of message, which seeks to woo people into the kingdom by describing God the Lover of our soul and the One who meets our daily needs (e.g., much “seeker-sensitive” preaching or more liberal, social-gospel types of sermons).85

Both types of message are appropriate on different occasions, and part of the pastoral/prophetic task is to determine which occasion it is. While it does no good to provide pious platitudes of hope to those heading for destruction unless they alter their path, it is also unhelpful to present unmitigated woe to those defeated and beaten down. Great prophets like Joel, Jonah, and Jesus read the times and spoke elements of God’s truth relevant to those times. For Joel, the message needed to be “hear, listen up, you are in danger.” Does our message today need to look beyond self-actualization and the abundant life, which are indeed provided by God, to the message that our lifestyle as Christians in many areas puts our relationship with God in question? When do we mix warning with weal?

Provider of peace and plenty. The grape and the fig symbolize peace, plenty, and prosperity for Israel (Deut. 8:8; 1 Kings 4:25; Zech. 3:3).86 Their destruction, by contrast, symbolizes deprivation and want, not only for Israel (Jer. 5:17) but also for others, even her enemies (e.g., Egypt, Ps. 105:33). Israel was aware that Yahweh’s hand was involved in both of these aspects, positive and negative.

Human nature, however, seems to look mainly to oneself in both of these circumstances. When things go well, when we enjoy provision and plenty, we see them as arising from our own efforts; they are our due. The unparalleled advances in the financial markets during the 1990s arose from the United States having the most productive economy in history because of our hard work and good business practices. We produced our own grapes and figs. There was little consideration that sending jobs to places where wages, anti-exploitation, and safety laws are much less rigorous helped fuel these economic gains considerably.

Are we draining needed water from the vines and groves of others, or are we appropriating their few weak shoots to strengthen our many hardy ones? Perhaps God is providing more than we could ask or think to give us an opportunity to support those at home and abroad who are not so blessed, those who need a brother to be their keeper. Do we notice that our neighbors are short of bread and water, much less sweet wine and succulent fruit?

On the other hand, when the U.S. financial markets tumbled down at the turn of the millennium, we claimed it was due to terrorist attacks or unfair steel trade practices. Somebody was vandalizing our trees and vines! There was little consideration that exorbitant executive salaries or illegal accounting practices might be detrimental to the whole superstructure, since they were undermining its foundation of integrity and trust. The royal bureaucracy was taking the majority of the produce of grove and vineyard for its own private enjoyment, stripping the vines and trees without care for the irreparable damage being done to them.

Perhaps God is providing an opportunity for us to reexamine the source of both prosperity and responsibility as he did for Israel. Is it time to turn to the Source of the sun and the rain, the ultimate Provider of both seed and growth, in both apology and adoration? After all, the vineyards and trees are his, not ours.

Original Meaning

Warnings to Judah (1:2–14)

OFTEN PROPHETS NEEDED to confront people in positions of power (e.g., 2 Sam. 7:4–5; 1 Kings 22; Amos 7:9). Other times they explicitly addressed the nation as a whole (e.g., Isa. 6:9–10; Jer. 2:4; Amos 5). Joel’s message is to the latter, to the nation represented by various strands in society, from religious and political leaders through production workers to inebriates. All society needs to hear God’s warnings and join in national lament for the destruction facing them. This derives from a horrible plague, not of disease (e.g., Ex. 9:14; Num. 11:33) but of nature, in the form of locust swarms.

This section is set off from that Joel 1:15–20 by form (the frequent use of imperatival forms—seventeen times vs. none in vv. 15–20); by vocatives, which frequently accompany imperativals (ten times vs. none in vv. 15–20); by frequent short, staccato clauses versus generally the longer, more discursive clauses in verses 15–20; and by subject (natural disaster vs. “the day of the LORD” in vv. 15–20).1

To the people (Joel 1:2–4). The first audience, the “elders” (v. 2; cf. 1:14; 2:16, 28), is ambiguous. This could mean those who traditionally held positions of rank or authority in a village/region (e.g., Num. 22:7; Judg. 8:14, 16; 1 Sam. 30:26–30)2 or in clan life (e.g., Deut. 5:23; 31:28). They existed from the national captivity in Egypt (Ex. 3:16; 24:14) up through the time of Ezra (Ezra 10:8). One of their functions was judicial, making legal decisions on a local level for the people based on biblical law and practice (e.g., Deut. 21:19–20; 22:16). They represented the upper end of the societal spectrum. Scholars suggest that such a technical use of the term must be postexilic (cf. 2 Kings 23:1–2; Ezra 10:8), leading to such a date for Joel.3 But the term enjoys this technical sense in preexilic texts as well (e.g., Num. 11:16–30; cf. Deut. 25:9), so any claim of the date of composition cannot hinge on it alone.

The term can also be literal, calling to the old folks.4 This fits well in the context, providing a literary balance between this earlier generation and the future generations of the next verse. This is also supported by the juxtaposition with the young in Joel 2:16 (cf. also 2:28). The elderly are respected not only as those preserving the tribal memory of such catastrophes as will soon be described, but also the wisdom about how to meet the challenges.

Both interpretations are problematic, however, when seen in light of the parallelism in the second line of verse 2. There, all of the land’s inhabitants (cf. 1:14; 2:1, 28) are summoned, so the parallelism cannot be synonymous but complementary, with the elders representing part of the land’s inhabitants. “The land” in Joel is Judah, since Israel is not mentioned. Both elderly and leaders are summoned to hear the dreadful news as part of all of the others who are affected.

The audience is commanded to pay attention. The two verbs used are synonymous, with the semantic duplication highlighting the seriousness of the following message. The first (“hear,” (šmʾ ), is used over a thousand times in the Old Testament. “Listen” (ʾzn)—more precisely, “give ear”—is common in poetic texts, even from an early period, in literature as diverse as prophecy (e.g. Isa. 1:2, 10; Jer. 13:15; cf. Hos. 5:1; Mic. 1:2), wisdom (e.g., Job 33:1), and the Deuteronomist (e.g., Deut. 32:1; cf. Judg. 5:3). Often occurring in parallelism, the two verbs are a common summons to pay attention. The elders, in whichever capacity they function here, are the source of guidance and instruction, but now need instruction themselves, since they are facing a situation for which neither experience nor authority has an adequate response. In fact, it is to become a precedent for future instruction (Joel 1:3).5 God acknowledges a teachable moment.

The message starts with rhetorical questions (cf. 1:16; 3:4), which draw the audience into the message from the beginning, seeking a response rather than asking for actual information. When the audience’s thinking is thus engaged, they are already invested in receiving the rest of the message. The questions concern an as yet unspecified “this” (cf. Judg. 19:30; 1 Sam. 4:7). This word also engages the attention, awaiting some indication about what is being talked about.

The second question makes the interrogative-plus-verb combination of the first part do double duty and raises the question up a notch: “Has this happened in your days? [Has this happened] even in the days of your fathers?”6 Here is an event without parallel, either in the experience of the oldest among the audience or even their ancestors (Joel 2:2; cf. Ex. 10:6, 14). The term “forefathers” (lit., “fathers”) points to generations beyond the biological father (e.g., Gen. 48:21; Ex. 3:15; Zech. 8:14; Mal. 3:7). This is our equivalent of saying that something has not happened since time immemorial, since this rhetorical question is most naturally answered in the negative.

One other event was unparalleled in previous generations: the plague of locusts God brought on Egypt when Pharaoh refused to free the Israelites. It is characterized as “something neither your fathers nor your forefathers have ever seen from the day they settled in this land [Egypt] till now” (Ex. 10:6, NIV). Both Exodus and Joel direct attention to past generations. In Joel the subject also is soon revealed as a locust swarm, though the rhetorical tension caused by the lack of indication of the nature of the unparalleled event has not yet been revealed here, so the tension continues to mount through this and the next verse.

The elusive, undefined “it” continues into verse 3, picking up the subject of verse 2 and slowing down the identification of what “it” is.7 Hebrew word order heightens the impact: “concerning it to your children tell,” emphasizing the elements preceding the verb, which usually begins a Hebrew sentence. The command to “tell” is used elsewhere of narrating a story of interesting events (cf. Gen. 24:66; Num. 13:27; Isa. 43:26). This verb is implied in the next two lines (cf. Joel 1:2).

Verse 3 moves from two generations past (self and ancestors), who have not seen such a thing, to four generations yet to come (self, children, their children, and future generations), who are to be told of it. Other generations extending far into the future are significant in Joel, opening and closing the book (3:20; cf. 2:2). Joel says that it is not enough for his generation alone to learn about this event. It is a matter to teach to all who follow, like other mighty acts of God (e.g., Deut. 6:7–12; 11:19–20). It becomes part of the national lore, just as God’s actions against a stubborn pharaoh became the lore of an earlier generation (Ex. 10:2).

Verse 4 finally reveals the subject of the message, the elusive “it”: the devastation resulting from swarms of locusts. In each of the three clauses it has the same emphatic Hebrew structure: The direct object (NIV, “what X has left”; lit., “the remnant of X”) precedes the verb, “it ate.” Even here there is possible ambiguity, not resolving clearly whether the unparalleled event is positive or negative. The “remnant” often has a negative connotation, such as the dregs or the last remaining pittance when the majority or the best is gone (e.g., Ex. 23:11; Isa. 44:19). In Exodus 10:5, 12, 15 it occurs in the context of a locust swarm devouring the remainders after a hail shower (cf. Joel 2:25). This turns out also to be the context in our verse, but a first reading leaves another option open, since the word has another possible connotation. In several cases the same word is an adverb indicating excess or abundance (cf. Ps. 31:23; Isa. 56:12; Dan. 8:9), so it could be a pleasant surprise that will be revealed. It is only as the reader goes further into the clause that it is possible to ascertain that the state of affairs is not good.

Each clause designates a locust type that eats what is left by the other locust type in the clause. The three clauses yield four separate locust types (cf. also Joel 2:25). In our translation they are rendered “locust swarm” (gāzām), “great locusts” (ʾarbeh), “young locusts” (yeleq), and “other locusts” (ḥāsîl), but the NIV marginal note accurately states that “the precise meaning of the four Hebrew words used here for locusts is unclear.” There is debate over the meanings of the terms on both the etymological and entomological levels. Lack of clarity is evident from the various other English translations proposed for the words:

gāzām: palmer worm (KJV; ASV); gnawing locust (NASB; Keil); cutting locust (NCV; NRSV; NJPS; NLT; ESV); chewing locust (NKJV; Crenshaw); biter (Wolff); nearly full-grown locust (Stuart); shearer (Allen)

ʾarbeh: locust (KJV; ASV; NJPS; Wolff); swarming locust (NASB; NCV; NKJV; NRSV; NLT; ESV; Kapelrud; Allen; Crenshaw); adult locust (Stuart); multiplier (Keil)

yeleq: canker worm (KJV; ASV); creeping locust (NASB); hopping locust (NCV; NRSV; NLT; ESV; Wolff; Allen); crawling locust (NKJV); grub (NJPS); jumper (Kapelrud; Crenshaw); infant locust (Stuart); licker (Keil)

ḥāsîl: caterpillar (KJV, ASV); stripping locust (NASB; NLT); destroying locust (NCV; NRSV; ESV; Allen); consuming locust (NKJV); hopper (NJPS); finisher (Crenshaw); jumper (Wolff); young locust (Stuart); devourer (Keil)

The scarcity of several of the terms is one cause of the confusion. The second term (ʾarbeh), the most common word for locusts, occurs twenty-four times in the Old Testament. Exodus 10:1–20 contains seven occurrences, describing when they plagued Egypt (cf. also Ps. 78:46; 105:34), completely covering the land and eating all plants and tree fruit. The account claims to describe the ultimate of such plagues: “Never before had there been such a plague of locusts, nor will there ever be again” (Ex. 10:14). An etymological suggestion is that the term derives from the Hebrew root rbh (“to be many”), resulting in translations such as “swarms.”8

The other terms used here are rarer. Yeleq, for which a derivation from a word for “lick” has been suggested,9 occurs in six additional places (Ps. 105:34; Jer. 51:14, 27; Joel 2:25; Nah. 3:15–16). Ḥāsîl, related to an Aramaic verb for “come/bring to an end,”10 occurs in five places (1 Kings 8:37; 2 Chron. 6:28; Ps. 78:46; Isa. 33:4; Joel 2:25). Gāzām, related to Aramaic, Ethiopic, and Arabic “to cut, clip,”11 occurs in only two additional places (Joel 2:25; Amos 4:9). The main uses of the words are in contexts stressing their overwhelming numbers and greedy devouring, with several recalling the locust plagues in Egypt (Ps. 78:46; 105:34).

Some of the translations reflect a means of crop destruction, some a means of locomotion, and yet others a stage of development.12 It is impossible to determine how the author understands the terms—whether as specific types or stages, or whether as serving a literary function, accentuating the overwhelming number of devouring creatures by overwhelming the reader with different words. The context supports the latter interpretation, since the surprising uniqueness of the event is not due to an unparalleled number of varieties present but their overpowering number. Similar references to numerous, consuming locusts are not rare in the literature of Israel’s neighbors, who suffered under some of the same swarms as they cut a swath over a large geographical area.13 Their arrival always means devastation and despair (cf. Amos 7:1–2).

Sound the alarm (1:5–14). Different people are addressed in this section, but its literary structure unites it internally. Each of the two subsections has two parts: prescription and description. The order of these alternates throughout in this manner:

A Prescription: v. 5

B Description: vv. 6–7

C Prescription: v. 8

D Description: vv. 9–10

C′ Prescription: v. 11

B′ Description: v. 12

A′ Prescription: vv. 13–14

Keller suggests that there is a chiasm based on prescription-description-description-prescription.14 The above analysis shows that there is indeed a chiasm, but it is more complex than Keller proposes. It is significant that the central, pivot point of the chiasm is verses 9–10, the effect of the catastrophe on the Judean ritual practices, an element of life that is so central for the life of the people. Various elements of society are prepared to address how the catastrophe impacts them.

To drunkards (1:5–7). The second audience (after “elders” in v. 2) is the šikkôrîm, also identified as wine drinkers. Most English versions render the term as “drunkards/drunks,” with the strong negative connotations of the word. Such folks are also viewed negatively in Hebrew society, since it is inappropriate behavior for those attending a divine sanctuary (1 Sam. 1:13) and results in loss of physical control and dignity (Job 12:25; Ps. 107:27; Isa. 19:14; 24:20). At other times, the connotation of the word is not as bleak, since the state can be a result of a good party (e.g., 1 Sam. 25:36; 1 Kings 16:9; 20:16). Crenshaw points out that in that culture, wine was a common accompaniment of a meal, so a more neutral rendition such as “imbibers” better reflects what the audience heard from this text.15 Joel’s warnings thus are either directed to a small segment of the population (the town drunks, if you like) or to the population at large, all of whom feel the loss of a mainstay of sustenance, their drink soon to be taken from their lips.

The imperative verbs directed to these drinkers leave ambiguous the author’s evaluation. While the verb “wake up” often denotes awakening from natural sleep (e.g., Ps. 3:6; Prov. 6:22; Isa. 29:8), it also is awakening from a drunken stupor (Gen. 9:24; Prov. 23:35). The second and third verbs describe lamenting, a natural response to a catastrophe. The first (bkh) regularly indicates weeping (Joel 2:17), the root occurring almost 150 times in the Old Testament. The other (yll; 1:11, 13) is rarer, indicating the loud, wailing cries of mourning, sounding like the shrieking desert winds (cf. Deut. 32:10). It appears to have been an onomatopoetic term and may be cognate, through Latin, of our English “ululation,” the high, warbling cry of grief used in contexts of mourning in many societies.

The imbibers must lament for the wine that is newly pressed at this time of devastation (cf. Amos 9:13; Mal. 3:21). It is not yet bottled but still flows (Joel 3:18).16 While not as potent as more aged wine (3:3), which would be in storage and thus not susceptible to the locusts, it can still lead to intoxication (Isa. 49:26). Not only are Israel’s sustaining sources of nutrients, her grain foods and drink such as wine, devoured, the latter also serves to lessen the hardships of daily life (Ps. 104:15). As cleanly as a woodcutter severs a tree from its roots (1 Kings 5:18; Jer. 46:23), so nourishment will be cut off (Joel 1:9, 16) from mouths open to receive it.

In verse 6, a military metaphor expands on the impact of the locust swarms, anticipating an actualization of the metaphor in later verses. The insects are like a national army (cf. Prov. 30:27), having power through sheer numbers. They are a “nation,”17 while in 2:2 they are called a “people.”18 The former term regularly describes foreign peoples (e.g., Deut. 7:1; Jer. 25:17–26), though it is also used of Israel (e.g., Deut. 32:28; Judg. 2:20). In one other case apart from Joel, it is used in conjunction with animals (Zeph. 2:14), but without this metaphorical power.19 Animal metaphors more regularly occur with the synonym “people” used in Joel 2:2 and will be further discussed there. This “nation” is the subject of the next two verses.

This nation of locusts literally “goes up” (ʾlh), a verb commonly used for journeying toward Israel (e.g., Gen. 13:1; Ezra 2:1), but also frequent in military contexts, signifying attack (e.g., Joel 2:7, 9; 3:9; cf. 1 Kings 20:22; Isa. 7:1). The locust nation here moves against “my land” (cf. Ezek. 38:16). “My” occurs seventeen times in the book, and its use here is ambiguous. This could have been a rhetorical device of the author, showing that he identifies himself with his people (i.e., it is not just “your land” but mine as well; cf. Nehemiah’s solidarity in Neh. 1:5–11; Joel 1:13), but it is more likely a reminder of the actual landowner, God himself, who is the speaker (Joel 2:1; cf. Isa. 14:25; Jer. 2:7; 16:18). Calvin notes that this claim to the land means that God, though its owner, chooses in this instance not to be its defender.

The attackers are devastating—“powerful” in strength and numbers (Joel 2:2, 5, 11; cf. Ex. 1:9; Zech. 8:22) and “without number” as they were in Egypt (Ps. 105:34; cf. 2 Chron. 12:3; Ps. 104:25; Jer. 46:23). Their ferocity is also accentuated, comparing their teeth to those of known killers, the lion (1 Kings 13:24; 20:36; cf. Job 4:10; Rev. 9:8) and lioness (Deut. 33:20; Hos. 13:8). The regular term for “tooth” (šen) is used first. The second, parallel term (m^etall^eʿôt) is rarer, occurring only in conjunction with the former (Job 29:17; Prov. 30:14; cf. Ps. 58:7, with a reordering of two letters). A use of both terms in the Dead Sea material compares them with sword and spear (1QHa 13:10), sharp, offensive weapons of war.20

The result from this dental onslaught is devastating in an agricultural society (v. 7). The produce of the grape vine and fig tree are among the things that make life worth living (Num. 20:5; 2 Kings 18:31; Hab. 3:17), but they are now totally destroyed. They represent the larger cultivated plants, occurring as a pair in Joel (Joel 1:12; 2:22). The resultant loss is horrible, like the devastation resulting from divine judgment (Isa. 13:9; Zech. 7:14; cf. words from the same root [šmm] in Joel 1:17; 2:3, 20; 3:7).

Five different verbs are used, not all easily distinguishable from each other. The term applying to figs (NIV “ruin”) is unique in the Old Testament, with an appropriate use for the context being “break, splinter.” They will be completely stripped of bark like one bares one’s arm (Isa. 52:10; Ezek. 4:7),21 leaving even smaller branches (Gen. 40:10, 12) bare and white. In both cases, the speaker, most likely God (cf. Joel 1:6), claims the ruined plants as his own but makes no protective or restorative steps. Piling up the numerous verbs emphasizes the totality of destruction.22

To priests and producers (1:8–14). A new textual unit looks at other elements of society who also feel the locusts’ destruction. First is an unidentified female.23 From the context, she appears to be called to lament, though the verb does not occur elsewhere with this sense.24 This feminine imperative has no near grammatically feminine object, though some suggest that Jerusalem and Israel, personified as feminine, can be implied in the context.25

The context of Joel as a whole suggests another referent, however, since the only other feminine singular verbal forms are addressed to the “land” (Joel 2:21), which here in 1:8 is bereft of produce.26 She is called to identify with a young lady in a marriage arrangement of some kind, though its nature is unclear. The main terms are clear, but their combination is problematic. The object of comparison is a “virgin,” a young woman without sexual experience (Gen. 24:16; Ex. 22:16; Deut. 22:28) who is wearing sackcloth. This course, black fabric (Isa. 50:3; Rev. 6:12) made from goats’ hair27 is worn against the skin (2 Kings 6:30) around the waist (1 Kings 20:32; Isa. 20:2) as a sign of mourning (e.g., 2 Sam. 3:31; Isa. 22:12; Lam. 2:10; Joel 1:13; Jon. 3:5), the pain of which the chafing cloth is a constant reminder.28

In this case mourning is due to the loss of her husband (Gen. 20:3; Ex. 21:3), whom she had taken while she was young (in “her youth”). The latter term is ambiguous since it can indicate a young, unmarried state, perhaps even prior to betrothal (e.g., Lev. 22:13; Num. 30:3, 16). This is difficult in this context since she does have a husband. The phrase can also refer simply to age, without any connotation of marriage, a “time of youth,” an early age (Gen. 8:21; Zech. 13:5). This fits the context, but there is still the difficulty of being a virgin while also having a husband. It seems best to view her as a young virgin, as yet unmarried but already betrothed to (“belonging to,” Gen. 20:3; cf. Deut. 22:24, where an engaged “virgin” is called a “wife”) a man. She has lost her fiancé.29 The comparison of loss is clearer in the Hebrew, where the emotions called forth “because of” the husband are the same as those “because of” the new wine (Joel 1:5).

Agricultural loss affects other elements in society as well, some in ways that might not readily come to mind (1:9). What is mentioned here concerns the people’s relationship with God in their religious rituals. Priests suffer partly because of the loss of regular daily foodstuffs, so that they are in that respect at one with the rest of society. It also affects their livelihood since it is the loss of some of their stock in trade.

Two specific types of sacrifice required plant products that are now lost to the locusts. The first offering (Joel 1:13; 2:14) is either the grain offering, described in detail in Leviticus 2, or a general term for all grain and animals offerings (e.g., Gen. 4:3–5; Mal. 1:8–10).30 Because of the context, the former is preferable, since the following context mentions only vegetable products. This offering required olive oil and flour, part of which was burnt on the altar. Since both oil (Joel 1:10)31 and grain (1:11) are gone, so is the potential for offering. This loss directly impacts the priestly larder, since it comprises some of their food supply (Lev. 2:10), especially so since this offering in particular is a perpetual or regular offering (e.g., Lev. 6:13; Num. 4:16).

The second plant-based offering is the less fully detailed drink offering (Joel 1:13; 2:14). This, also called a libation offering (NJPS, JB), is inappropriately named a “drink offering,” since, while it can be wine (Ex. 29:40; Lev. 23:13; Num. 15:5) or even water (cf. 2 Sam. 23:15–17), can also be oil (Gen. 35:14), which is not a beverage. “Liquid” or “poured” offering is a more appropriate translation, since this is the means by which it is offered. Just as wine is cut off from the mouths of those who would drink it (Joel 1:5), so these sacrifices are cut off from the temple, “the house of the LORD” (Joel 1:14; 3:18; cf. 1 Kings 8:11), the place where they are to be offered.

The priests mourn this loss like one mourns the death of a loved one (e.g., Gen. 37:35; 50:10). They are ministers (Joel 1:13[2x], of the altar and God; 2:17, of Yahweh), a term always accompanying “priest” in Joel. This word can indicate an assistant to a leader (e.g., Joshua for Moses; Ex. 24:13; Josh. 1:1; also 1 Kings 1:15; 2 Kings 4:43) or even a personal valet (2 Sam. 13:17–18). In the prophets it indicates those serving in a religious context (e.g., Isa. 61:6; Jer. 33:21, 22; Ezek. 44:11; see also 1 Sam. 2:11). Their very role is in jeopardy. There are serious theological and sociological ramifications if the sacrificial system, the regular means of approaching God, is not able to function as it was established to do. The people must be reminded from whom these sacrifices actually derive, Yahweh himself (Joel 2:14).

In verse 10, the grounds for the deprivation and mourning are established: Three staples of life—grain, wine, and oil—fail from earth and field. The assault on life is accentuated at many levels through literary means that are lost in translation: through staccato pounding of five, two-word clauses,32 each having an identical beat number for both words;33 through pervasive alliteration and assonance;34 and through piling on verbs of destruction. Devastation comes to the cultivated field (vv. 11, 12, 19, 20; Gen. 37:7; Mic. 3:12) as it does to its grain (Joel 1:17; 2:19), the source of flour for daily bread (2 Kings 18:32).

The verb šdd (“ruin”) is a strong one, used of military destruction (Isa. 21:2; Jer. 49:28) and even death (Judg. 5:27; Jer. 6:6), continuing the stark picture begun in Joel 1:7. The very ground (ʾ ^adāmâ), the source of humanity itself (ʾādām; Gen. 2:7), is affected. The author plays on two uses of the second verb (ʾbl). Playing off of Joel 1:9, the anthropomorphized ground joins the priests in mourning (Hos. 4:3).35 The verb also means “dry up,” the sense also of the verbs in the fourth (ybš; cf. Joel 1:11, 12, 20) and fifth (mll; cf. 1:12) clauses, which is equally contextually appropriate. The writer could be engaging in a wordplay looking both back to the previous verse and forward to the concluding verbs here.

Along with grain, the new wine and oil are lost. These three terms regularly occur together in the Old Testament (e.g., Num. 18:12; Deut. 7:13; 11:14; 12:17). The firstfruits of all three are for personal use by the priests (Num. 18:12, 27), in addition to their cultic function in sacrifices. These divine gifts (Deut. 7:13; 11:14; Jer. 31:12) are now absent.

The crop loss also devastates the agriculturalists responsible for production (v. 11). These include the farm laborer (“farmers”), those using ox and plow to prepare annual grain crops (Jer. 51:23), and the tenders (“growers”) of grape vines, a perennial plant requiring different cultivation practices (2 Kings 25:12//Jer. 52:16).36 The terms often occur together exemplifying the range of crop production (Isa. 61:5; 2 Chron. 26:10; cf. Amos 5:16–17), and probably indicate the poorest of the land (Jer. 52:16), those who tend land not their own (2 Chron. 26:10).

The two verbs used here were encountered previously (ybš, yll; Joel 1:10 and 1:5 respectively), though the first has a different nuance here. Wine itself dries up (1:10), but that is not an appropriate verb for the farmers. A homonym of the same root carries a meaning of shame (e.g., Jer. 2:6; 8:9), an appropriate response for those unable to fulfill their vital societal role.37 Some suggest that this meaning is appropriate for most or all occurrences of the verb in Joel,38 but there seems rather to be a conscious play on the ambiguity of meaning, just as there is play on sound in these verses. The two verbs are morphologically ambiguous, equally able to be masculine plural imperatives (so most translations) or third common plural perfect forms (cf. LXX; Vulgate; Berkeley; Moffat; NJPS). The existence of so many imperatives in this section (Joel 1:8, 13[5x], 14[4x]) and chapter (1:2[2x], 3, 5[3x]) supports the majority reading.

More specific than verse 10, this verse concentrates on field crops, namely “wheat,” which is ground for choice flour for breads (Ex. 29:2) or parched and eaten dry (Lev. 23:14), and “barley,” a quicker-growing crop that is also eaten parched (2 Sam. 17:28) or raw (2 Kings 4:42) or ground into flour (Num. 5:15) for baked goods (Judg. 7:13; 2 Kings 4:42; Ezek. 4:12).39 The former seems to be held in higher regard since, while barley is also used in offerings (Num. 5:15; Ezek. 45:13), wheat plays a more regular role there, often in a form designated “fine [i.e., not course] flour” (Ex. 29:2; Lev. 2:1–7; 5:11; 2 Kings 7:16; 1 Chron. 9:29; Ezek. 16:13). Barley also is relegated to use as horse feed (1 Kings 5:8). It is “because” these are lost that mourning happens; the harvest (Deut. 24:19) has been utterly “destroyed” (4:26; Ps. 102:27).

Other, perennial crops are listed in verse 12, with numerous links to previous verses.40 Vine and fig join other fruits: pomegranate (Num. 13:23; Deut. 8:8), date palm (only here noted for its fruit bearing; cf. Song 7:7), and apple (Song 2:3, 5; 7:9; 8:5; Borowski suggests it is instead the apricot).41 These are summarized as “all the trees of the field,” even though this is not literally true, since other tree crops are also significant in the economy of Israel.42 They do serve as representative of this important element of the diet of the people.

A concluding analogy is made with the emotional state of the people. All humanity, those previously identified and more, suffer the desiccation of joy, the normal emotional response to a good harvest (Isa. 9:3; 16:9–10). There is another clever play on sounds and words between this and the immediately preceding clause.43 Food and drink, which make the heart glad (Ps. 104:15), by their absence now remove that gladness.44

In verse 13, the focus returns to the priesthood, those initially identified as serving Yahweh (1:9; 2:17), but now as ministers of his altar. This is the place where for practical purposes the people most intimately encounter the deity (“my God”) himself. “My” indicates that, at least in this verse, Joel the narrator rather than Yahweh himself is speaking (see 1:6 and comments).45 The priests are repeatedly commanded in a string of five imperatives.

They are first to gird themselves like the bereft virgin (Joel 1:8), though the object of the girding, the sackcloth, is left implicit, being clear from the previous verse and made explicit later in this verse. This time the sackcloth is to be worn overnight.46 Mourning (Gen. 23:2; 1 Sam. 25:1) and wailing (Joel 1:5, 11) are not things quickly accomplished. Like the mourning for a departed loved one, which takes a season to go through, the loss of sacrificial material does not right itself immediately; at least a new harvest season must pass.

The priests are then to “come,” though the destination is not specified. This is usually clear from the context (e.g., 1 Kings 20:33; Ezek. 33:30), but that is not the case here. Since the altar is mentioned and the priests’ regular service is in the Jerusalem temple, that is probably where they must come (cf. Ps. 95:6; 100:2). While it may be reading too much into the verb, there could be in it an indication that the priests are not actually where they are supposed to be and have to be recalled to their God in whose house they should already be serving (cf. 2 Chron. 29, where Hezekiah has to start his reform by recalling the negligent priesthood).

Finally, they are again reminded of the reason for mourning. As conception is withheld from a barren womb with resultant grief (Gen. 30:1–2), so grief ensues from life-giving sacrifices that are withheld.

In verse 14, further steps are demanded in order to restore what is lost. This is done through four more imperative verbs, apparently also directed toward the priests. “Sanctifying a fast” (2:15; cf. 1:12) uses a common Hebrew root for purification and setting things apart for sacred service (qdš). This is applied to preparation for “holy war” (3:9; Jer. 6:4; 51:27), for feast (Ezra 3:5), or for fast. Fasting (1 Sam. 28:20) is done either privately (2 Sam. 12:16) or publicly (e.g., the one national fast on the Day of Atonement, Lev. 16:29, 31; Num. 29:7; fasts increased in number after the Exile, e.g., Zech. 8:19), as a sign of mourning (2 Sam. 1:22; 1 Kings 21:27) and/or as an accompaniment to petitionary prayer (Ezra 8:21; Dan. 9:3), both being closely related actions.

The speaker calls (1:19; 2:15, 32; 3:9) not only for a cessation from food, but also from work (from the root “restrain, hold something back,” Gen. 16:2; Jer. 36:5; cf. Deut. 16:8 regarding work). In English this is often rendered as a “(sacred) assembly,” not only directed toward Yahweh but also called for pagan gods (e.g., Baal in 2 Kings 10:20). The priests are not to be alone in these endeavors, however, since elders (Joel 1:2; 2:16, 28)—and indeed all the land’s inhabitants (1:2; 2:1)—are to gather (2:10; 3:15) at the temple (“the house of the LORD your God”; cf. 1:8, 13, 16; 3:18). When the nation assembles, they are to implore Yahweh’s name and “cry out” to him for help (cf. Judg. 12:22; Mic. 3:4; Hab. 1:2). He is the key for this verse, his ministers being called to cry to him because of the deprivation of his house.47 He is also the One to whom the people are driven by the disaster that befalls them.