Introduction: This post attempts to show that Paul could not have conceived of a resurrection body where the deceased earthly body is left behind in the grave. As John Granger Cook hypothesizes:

There is no fundamental difference between Paul’s conception of the resurrection body and that of the Gospels.

(John Granger Cook, Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis, Mohr Siebeck, 2018, pp. 1)
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Resurrection of the Dead, According to Paul

The most frequently used verb for resurrection in the New Testament is ἐγείρω/egeirō. Throughout the chapter, Paul uses the verb "egeirō" for the resurrection of the dead (cf. 1 Cor 15:15-16, 29, 32, 35, 42-43, 44, 52). Surprisingly, however, despite it's importance in the NT and it's central place as language for the resurrection, this verb has received little detailed study. This verb was not a slippery term as often assumed. Until the reaction of the Gnostics in the 2nd century and later, this word was used to denote bodily resurrection by both Jews and pagans, and both groups continued to use "egeiro" to denote bodily resurrection into late antiquity (cf. John Granger Cook, Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis, Mohr Siebeck, 2018, pp. 574). James P. Ware writes:

The Greek verb ἐγείρω has a more restricted semantic range, and cannot mean raise or rise in this wider sense of elevation or ascension. Rather, ἐγείρω means to get up or stand up, that is, to rise from a supine to a standing position. Thus the verb is regularly used to denote the raising or rising up of one who has fallen (LXX Exod 23.5; LXX1 Kings 5.3; LXX Eccles 4.10; Jdt 10.23; Philo, Agr. 122; Mut. 56; Migr. 122; Matt 12.11; Mark 9.27; Acts 9.8; 1 Clem 59.4). It is also used of one kneeling or prostrate being raised back to a standing position (LXX 1 Kings 2.8; LXX 2 Kings 12.17; LXX Ps 112.7; LXX Dan 10.10; Philo, Ebr. 156; Post. 149; Matt 17.7; Luke 11.8; Acts 10.26; Hermas, Vis. 2.1.3; 3.2.4). The verb is used of one lying down, very frequently of one lying sick,who is restored to a standing posture (Matt 8.15; 9.5, 6, 7; Mark 1.31; 2.9, 11, 12; Luke 5.23–4; John 5.8 ; Acts3.6-7; James 5.15). The verb is also frequently used of one sitting who rises to stand (LXX Ps 126.2; LXX Isa 14.9; Matt 26.46; Mark 3.3; 10.49; 14.42; Luke 6.8; John 11.29; 13.4; 14.31; Hermas, Vis. 1.4.1). In no instance within ancient Greek literature does ἐγείρω denote the concept of ascension, elevation or assumption. Rather, it denotes the action whereby one who is prone, sitting, prostrate or lying down is restored to a standing position.

(James P. Ware, The Resurrection of Jesus in the Pre-Pauline Formula of 1 Cor 15.3–5, New Testament Studies, 2014, p. 494)
The 2018 Brill Encyclopedia entry affirms Ware's work. Cook in his 2018 monologue (Mohr Siebeck) conjured up a gallery of examples in ancient literature where "egeiro" simply entailed standing up from a supine position (and not ascension). This following short gallery derives from Cook's book Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis, Mohr Siebeck, 2018 (pp. 13-15, 19-20):
(1) In a passage in the Iliad, Nestor wakes Diomedes:

Wake up, son of Tydeus, why do you sleep the whole night through? ... So he spoke, and he leapt up very quickly. (Homer Il. 10.159, 162)

"Wake up" includes the sense of “getting up,” or at least implies it.
-
(2) The chorus (that is, the Furies) in the Eumenides of Aeschylus cry to each other to wake/get up after Orestes has escaped:

Wake/get up, you get her up, and I [will get] you up. Do you still sleep? Stand up, shaking off sleep. (Aeschylus Eum. 140–1)

The command to stand clarifies the action (motion upward) implicit in the command to “wake” or “get up.
-
(3) Cytherea, in Bion’s Epitaph for Adonis, uses the verb to coax her dying lover upward, even if for one last kiss:

Rouse yourself a little, Adonis, and kiss me for a final time; kiss me as much as your kiss has life, until you breathe your last into my mouth, and your spirit flows into my heart ... (Bion [Epitaph. Adon.] 1.45–8)

-
(4) An idyll attributed to Theocritus about two fishermen illustrates the motion of standing up straight from a supine position:

And their customary labor roused up the fishermen, and chasing the sleep from their eyelids, provoked speech in their minds. (Theocritus Id. 21.20–1)

-
(5) In a much later example from Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic emperor contemplates the occasional difficulty of waking/getting up from sleep:

Whenever you wake/get up from sleep with difficulty, remember that according to your condition and human nature you perform social activities, and that sleeping is something also shared with irrational animals. (Marcus Aurelius Med. 8.12)

The active component of the verb (i.e., getting up) is readily apparent in the emperor’s text.
-
(6) In Aristophanes’ Clouds, a father attempts to get his sleeping son up:

(Strepsiades) But first I wish to wake him/rouse him up. How then could I rouse him up in the gentlest way? How? Phidippides, my little Phidippides. (Phidippides) What, father? (Str.) Kiss me, and give me your right hand. (Aristophanes Nub. 78–81)

Presumably, Strepsiades sits or stands up after his father takes his hand. But the verb probably contains, even here, the sense of rising up from his supine position, since the father clearly intends to get his son into an upright position, as the reference to his “hand” makes clear.
-
(7) In his Frogs, Aristophanes includes a character who roused himself up (or “woke up”), after Dionysus recounts his exploits to Heracles: "and then I roused myself up" (Aristophanes Ran. 51).
-
(8) An ancient scholiast also believed the verb indicates “getting up,” since it implies that Dionysus dreamed of his alleged naval victory:

And then I woke up: it is a joke about Dionysus. And then, he said, I got up from a dream; making it clear that a dream accomplished these things. (Scholia in Aristophanem Ran. 51)

Clearly the scholiast believes that a seme of “upward motion” belongs to the verb.
-
(9) In the Rhesus the king’s charioteer awakes from sleep when he dreams that the king’s horses are being ridden by wolves:

And I roused up from sleep warding off the beasts [wolves] from the horses. For the night terror urged me. And raising my head, I hear the moaning of the dying. A warm stream of new blood from the wound of my master falls on me, as he died hard. I rise upright, my hand empty of any spear ... ([Euripides] Rhesus 787–92).

This is a clear example of the spatial motion upward contained in the verb.
-
(10) An ordinary inscription from Rome also provides striking additional evidence. The last line from this burial inscription says ("ἐντεῦθεν οὐθὶς ἀποθανὼν ἐγ[ε]ίρετ[αι]") (‘no one who has died arises from here’). In this inscription, the use of ἐντεῦθεν (‘from here’) together with ἐγείρω unambiguously indicates the concept of getting up or arising from the tomb (IGUR III.1406).
​
There are further arguments in favor of the notion that Paul is arguing for a resurrected body that is continuities to the body that is laid in the tomb, and against the Martin, Engberg-Pedersen, and Borg view of the resurrected body being some sort of ethereal body (see Ware's article here):

1. Within 15:36–49, which is structured by twelve antithetically paired verbs (that is, six pairs of verbs) denoting death (or the mortal state) and resurrection (or the risen state), the subject of these antithetical verbal pairs is one and the same both for verbs denoting death, and those denoting resurrection. The subject throughout is the perishable body, which “dies” but “is made alive” again by God (15:36), which is “sown” (speiretai) in mortality and death, but “raised” (egeiretai) to imperishable life (15:42–44). This basic observation, which is nonetheless commonly ignored by interpreters, has profound exegetical implications. Paul does not describe resurrection as an event in which x (the present body) is sown, but y (a body distinct from the present body) is raised, but in which a single x (the present body) is sown a perishable x, but raised an imperishable x.
2. "Throughout 15:50–54 [SEE DIAGRAM BELOW], the subject of the verbs Paul uses to describe the resurrection event is the corruptible body of flesh, whether laid in the tomb or still living at the parousia. It is this present body that is raised and transformed. Indeed, the fourfold repetition of “this” (τοῦτο) emphasizes that it is this mortal, perishable body that is the subject of the transformation. “The subject persists throughout the radical change." Mortal flesh, far from being excluded from this divine, saving event, is the subject of that event. (Ware, "Paul's Understanding of the Resurrection," pp. 825). The fact that Paul envisions the bodies of the living to be transformed rather than annihilated is one more clear indicator of the physical and bodily character of the resurrection of the dead in his thought, since he envisions the same "change" for all (1 Cor 15:51).
3. In addition to the verb egeiro, Paul in 1 Corinthians 15 employs a variety of additional verbs to denote the resurrection event: zoopoieo (“make alive”; 15:36, 45; cf. 15:22), phoreo (“be clothed”; 15:49), alasso (“change”; 15:51, 52), and enduo (“clothe”; 15:53, 54). These additional verbs are significant, for they each express, in different ways, not the annihilation or replacement of the fleshly body, but its revival (zoopoieo), investiture (phoreo, enduo), and transformation (alasso).
4. The series of contrasts within 15:36–54 bet ween the ante-mortem and risen body do not occur in the subject of these periods, but in their predicates (verbs and verbal complements). And these predicate complements invariably describe a change of quality rather than of substance, in which what was once perishable, dishonored, weak, and mortal is endowed with imperishability, glory, power, and immortality (15:42–43; 15:52–54). Paul’s series of oppositions does not describe two bodies distinct in substance, but two contrasting modes of existence of the same body, one prior to and the other subsequent to the resurrection.

For #2 (from Ware's article):

Subject	Verb	Predicate
	will be clothed with	image of the Man from heaven
V. 51 we all	will be changed	______________________
V. 52 the dead	will be raised	imperishable
we	will be changed	______________________
V. 53 this perishable	must be clothed with	imperishability
this mortal body	must be clothed with
V. 54 this perishable body	is clothed with	imperishability
this mortal body	is clothed with	immortality

Moreover, Paul explicitly teaches a resurrection where the earthly body itself is transformed instead of discarded in his other epistles. See, for example, Philippians 3:21:

[Jesus Christ] will transform our lowly body to be conformed to his glorious body, in accordance with the outworking of his power whereby he is able to subject the entire universe to himself.

When one reads the context of Phil 3:1-4:1, it becomes clear that, just like, 1 Thessalonians 4 and 1 Corinthians 15, Paul's thought embraces the whole eschatological event, involving both the living and the dead. On Philippians 3:21 for instance, the exclusion of the resurrection from this passage will not work exegetically. This verse needs to be read within the larger passage, Philippians 3:1-4:1. 3:21 picks up, and brings to a climax, the thought in 3:10-11, where Paul expresses his personal hope that he "may by any means possible arrive at the resurrection from the dead." The "we" of Philippians 3:20-21 picks up the "I" of Philippians 3:10-11. In light of 3:10-11, it is impossible that the thought of 3:21 excludes the resurrection. Than there is Rom 8:11:

If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.

Lastly, in ancient Judaism there were a number of options for the afterlife: eternal soul, resurrection of the body, awakening of the spirit, or nothing. It seems, however, that whenever Jewish texts affirmed of resurrection (i.e. upward movement), they affirmed of bodily resurrection. In other words, while there were many different beliefs in the afterlife, there were not various types of "resurrection" beliefs. As John Granger Cook says in his recent book, "The current fashion among some scholars of asserting that there were various concepts of “resurrection” in Second Temple Judaism seems fundamentally wrong [...] Spirits or souls do not rise from the dead in ancient Judaism, people do. (2018, 569).
Many Jewish texts spoke of bodily resurrection. This gallery here is also derived mostly from Cook's 2018 monologue (chapter 6):
(1) Daniel 12:2-3 (II B.C.E.)

“Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever.

"Daniel is almost certainly referring to the resurrection of the dead. [...] The decisive confirmation of the bodily nature of resurrection in Daniel is the conclusion of the book where the seer is told that he will himself rise from the dead" (Cook, 465, 467):

12:13 But you, go your way to the end and rest; you shall rise [“stand”] for your reward at the end of days (NRSV mod.)

-
(2) 2 Maccabees 7:7, 9-11, 23 (II B.C.E.)

7 After the first brother had died in this way, they brought forward the second for their sport. They tore off the skin of his head with the hair, and asked him, “Will you eat rather than have your body punished limb by limb?” 8 He replied in the language of his ancestors and said to them, “No.” Therefore he in turn underwent tortures as the first brother had done. [...] After him, the third was the victim of their sport. When it was demanded, he quickly put out his tongue and courageously stretched forth his hands, 11 and said nobly, “I got these from Heaven, and because of his laws I disdain them, and from him I hope to get them back again.”
-
23 The creator of the cosmos, the one who shaped the origin of the human and invented the origin of all things, shall restore breath and life to you again with mercy, since now you disdain your very selves for the sake of his laws.

"2 Maccabees represents one of the most intensely physical understandings that can be found in early Jewish literature. The martyrs profess their hope in a resurrection in which the very same members of the body will be restored to them in a new and everlasting life (7:7, 9–11)." (C.D Elledge, Resurrection of the Dead in Early Judaism, 200 BCE-CE 200, Oxford Press, 2017, p. 26-27)
-
(3) 1 Enoch 92:3:

The righteous one will arise from sleep; he will arise and walk in the paths of righteousness, and all his path and his journey (will be) in piety and eternal mercy.

"There seems to be no fundamental reason for rejecting the conclusion that the text refers to the resurrection of the righteous and their subsequent behavior. The image of walking apparently envisions a “physical resurrection from the dead.” The emphasis on physically rising from sleep, and not just waking from sleep, also supports the contention that the reference is to resurrection." (Cook: 490-491)
-
(4) Syrian Baruch (Late I C.E.)
"2 Bar 30:1 describes the fate of those who hope in the Messiah:

And it shall come to pass after these things, when the time of the advent of the Messiah is fulfilled, that He shall return in glory. Then all who have fallen asleep in hope of Him shall rise again.

The author then describes the appearance of the souls of the righteous and the wicked (2 Bar 30:3–5). The Lord announces the resurrection to Baruch (2 Bar 42:8):

And the dust shall be called, and there shall be said to it: “Give back that which is not yours, and raise up all that you have kept until its time.”

The prophet queries the Almighty (2 Bar 49:2):

In what shape will those live who live in Your day? Or how will the splendor of those who (are) after that time continue?

He wonders if their form will be changed (2 Bar 49:3):

Will they then resume this form of the present, and put on these members that chains clothe, which are now involved in evils, and in which evils are consummated, or will you perchance change these things which have been in the world as also the world?

The question is about the nature of the resurrection body. The same image appears in this text (2 Bar 50:2–3):

For the earth shall then assuredly restore the dead, which it now receives, in order to preserve them. It shall make no change in their form, but as it has received, so shall it restore them, and as I delivered them unto it, so also shall it raise them. 3 For then it will be necessary to show the living that the dead have come to life again

This is undoubtedly resurrection of the body. The shape of the wicked will then become more evil, and the shape of the righteous will “become progressively more glorious” (2 Bar 51:2–5)." (Cook, pp. 496-497)
-
(5) The Fourth Sibylline Oracle (Late I C.E.)

God himself will again give shape to the bones and ashes of people, and will raise mortals again, as they were before. (Sib. Or. 4.181-2)

"The Fourth Sibylline Oracle affirms that resurrection bodies will have the same form as they did in life." (Cook: 500)
-
(6) The Testament of Judah 25:1 (II B.C.E -II C.E.)

And after these things shall Abraham and Isaac and Jacob arise unto life (25:1)

"The verb’s use [arise] indicates bodily resurrection" (Cook: 456)
-
(7) T. Ab. 7:17 (I-II C.E.)
Bodily resurrection occurs in T. Ab.:

“At that time all flesh shall rise” (T. Ab. 7.17; the short recension)

-
(8) SEG 15, 811 (II-III C.E.)
"A funerary inscription for a Jewish woman named Regina from the Monteverde catacombs [says]:

She will live again, return to the light again. For she can hope that she will rise to the life promised as a real assurance to the worthy and the pious in that she has deserved to possess an abode in the hallowed land.

Joseph S. Park writes that surgat “seems to evoke an image of the deceased literally rising from the grave” (Park, Conceptions, p. 167)." (Cook: 474)
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An Ethereal Resurrection?

According to many, what Paul thinks of is an ethereal resurrection - a heavenly body discontinuities with the body that decomposes in the ground. Thus Paul states that we are raised in a "spiritual body" (1 Cor 15:44), which he contrasts with the earthly body ("it is sown a physical body"), and that "flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God" (1 Cor 15:50). Paul also seems to believe that the earthly body is like a seed husk - discarded, while we are transformed into a new ethereal body (cf. 1 Cor 15:36-37). 2 Corinthians seems to be even clearer when Paul says in 2 Cor 5:1 that “the earthly tent we live in is destroyed (kataluthē)” and in 2 Cor 5:3, where Paul says that the earthly body “will be taken off (ekdysamenoi).” Thus, the source of the resurrected body is not the present earthly body, but it will be brought from heaven (2 Cor 5:2).

(1) On 1 Corinthians 15:44, what Paul has in mind when he says "it is raised a spiritual body" is a physical body that is empowered by pneuma, not made by it. The first indication of this is the use of the verb "egeiro." While egeiro appears in some contexts in which the soul is stimulated or roused, "nowhere in classical Greek or in the Greek of Jewish texts does a soul (or spirit) “rise” in a text that describes a resurrection" (John Granger Cook, Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis, Mohr Siebeck, 2018, pp. 36). This was true until gnostic interpreters of the second century (ibid, 36). Furthermore, in 1 Cor 2:14-15, Paul makes a similar distinction between psychikos and pneumatikos. 1 Cor 2:14-15 says:

Those who are unspiritual do not receive the gifts of God’s Spirit, for they are foolishness to them, and they are unable to understand them because they are spiritually discerned. Those who are spiritual discern all things, and they are themselves subject to no one else’s scrutiny.

It makes no sense imagining Paul speaking about a person composed of soul verses those composed of pneuma. The adjective pneumatikos is used to refer to people or things empowered by the Spirit of God, such as: palpable manna and water (10:3–4), a tangible rock (10:4), and flesh and blood human beings (3:1; 14:37). Used with soma in 15:44, pneumatikos indicates that the risen body will be a physical body empowered by pneuma. James P. Ware writes:

The adjective that Paul here contrasts with πνευματικός is not σάρκινος (cognate with σάρξ), referring to the flesh, but ψυχικός (cognate with ψυχή), referring to the soul. This adjective is used in texts outside the NT, without exception, with reference to the properties or activities of the soul (e.g., 4 Macc 1:32; Aristotle, Eth. nic. 3.10.2; Epictetus, Diatr. 3.7.5–7; Plutarch, Plac. philos. 1.8). Modifying σῶμα as here, with reference to the present body, the adjective describes this body as given life or activity by the soul. The adjective has nothing to do with the body’s composition but denotes the source of the mortal body’s life and activity.

(Ware, "Paul's Understanding of the Resurrection," pp. 832).
Thus, “if σῶμα πνευματικόν in this context describes the composition of the future body, as a body composed only of spirit, its correlate σῶμα ψυχικόν would perforce describe the composition of the present body, as a body composed only of soul. Paul would assert the absence of flesh and bones not only from the risen body but from the present mortal body as well!” (Ware, "Paul's Understanding of the Resurrection," pp. 832-833).
Lastly, "the notion of a risen body composed of corporeal pneuma perforce entails (as Engberg-Pedersen has demonstrated) a specifically Stoic and pantheistic understanding of the relation of the divine to the cosmos, with the corollary that Paul conceived of the Spirit of God as a corporeal entity, composed of the same substance as the sun, moon, and stars (see Engberg-Pedersen, Cosmology and Self, 8–38; idem, “Material Spirit,” 184–87). [...] Such a reconstruction of Paul’s thought [is] without historical plausibility (cf. Rom 1:20–25; 4:17; 11:33–36; 1 Cor 8:4–6; 10:7; 10:14; 1 Thess 1:9–10)." (Ware, "Paul's Understanding of the Resurrection," pp. 833-834).
​
(2) On 1 Corinthians 15:36-37. Paul is comparing the naked seed (A) placed in the ground with the human dead body (B) that is placed in the ground; so as the (future) plant body (A') will be, so will the resurrection body (B') be. So as A is to B, A' is to B' - if one were to commit the analogy to symbolic form. The analogy points to both the material continuity of the mortal and risen body and the transformation of the mortal body that takes place in the resurrection event. As James P. Ware points out:

What is often missed is the critical significance of verse 39 for our understanding of resurrection in Paul. For the juxtaposition of 15:39 with 15:37 and 15:40–41 shows that here, reflecting the normal usage of Paul’s Greek-speaking audience, “flesh” (sarx) and “body” (sōma) function as synonymous terms for the human body. Paul’s analogy in 15:36–41 assumes both that the risen body will be a body (15:37–38, 40–41) and that it will be composed of flesh (15:39). Paul’s reminder of the various kinds of flesh (15:39), bodies (15:40), and bodily splendor (15:41) functions to prepare the reader for the depiction of transformed embodiment to follow in 15:42–54, in which the risen body of flesh is differentiated from its mortal counterpart not by change of substance, but by its freedom from weakness, mortality, and decay.

(James P. Ware, Paul's Theology in Context, Eerdmans, 2019, pp. 213-214)
Furthermore, Paul’s saying in 1 Cor 15:37, γυμνὸς κόκκος, has nothing to do with a Platonist naked soul or Stoic imagery of sowing and seeds. The context itself indicates that stoicism or Platonism is not in the mind of Paul when he says "γυμνὸς κόκκος." Instead, as John Granger Cook says, texts from Greek biology and agriculture are far more revealing. See John Granger Cook, A Naked Seed: Platonism, Stoicism, or Agriculture in 1Cor 15,37?, Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft | Volume 111: Issue 2, 2020. 1 Clement and 3 Corinthians, for example, could be instructive for how we interpret 1 Cor 15:37, for the authors also refer to the resurrection using the image of naked seeds, and they are early interpretations to the preferred biological/agricultural reading of 1 Cor 15:37. 1 Clement says:

The sower went out and cast into the ground each of the seeds, which falling on the ground dry and naked decay. Then out of decay, the magnificence of the master’s providence raises them up, and from one seed more grow and produce fruit. (1 Clem 24:2)

"Clement’s imagery is physical, and the seeds are not naked souls, nor does he include any Stoic metaphors" (ibid, 308). 3 Corinthians says:

For they do not know, Corinthians, that the seed of wheat or other varieties, which are cast into the ground naked and which decay below, are raised by the will of God in body and clothed; so that not only is the body raised that was cast (into the ground), but it is abounding, upright, and blessed. (3Cor = AcPlCor 2:26–27)

3 Corinthian's imagery is clearly a flesh and bones resurrection.
​
(3) On 1 Corinthians 15:50, "flesh and blood" is not a synonym for "physical" or "that which is opposed to the physical." It is a semitism (or a figure of speech) for mortality. Thus, Paul is saying that mortality does not inherit the kingdom of God. John Granger Cook writes:

“flesh and blood” – in particular its use as a rabbinic expression which simply refers to human nature in its fragility and not simply to “physical flesh.” An early rabbinic example is from the Mekhilta of Rabbi Ishmael where Exod 12:12 “I am the Lord” is explained as “What flesh and blood cannot say” (Mek. Pesach 1:7). Another occurrence is a discussion of Exod 15:1 “I will sing unto the Lord for he is really exalted,” which is explained by an example that begins “when a king of flesh and blood enters a province … (Mek. Shirata 3:1)

(John Granger Cook, Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis, Mohr Siebeck, 2018, pp. 585)
​
(4) On 2 Corinthians 5:1-5, there is nothing in this passage that conflicts with Paul's robust doctrine of a "flesh and bones" resurrection. First off, in verse 3, what Paul wrote was endysamenoi (I put on, clothe), instead of ekdusamenoi (having put off). The manuscript evidence that supports this is overwhelming (p46 א B C D2 Ψ 0243. 33. 1739. 1881. Byz, lat, sy, co; Cl.). The evidence for ekdusamenoi is far less (see: Kevin Daugherty, Naked Bodies and Heavenly Clothing, Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism 8 [2011–12], pp. 214). 2 Cor 5:4 is instructive on this regard when Paul says: "not that we wish to be unclothed (ekdusasthai) but more fully clothed (ependusasthai)." This expresses both the continuity of the risen body with the mortal body, and its discontinuity, in its transformation to imperishability through the work of the Spirit.
"Destroyed" in 2 Cor 5:1a is referring to death. 2 Cor 5:1 than stresses upon the transformation of the resurrection body when it says that we will receive an eternal heavenly body. It does not, however, indicate that the earthly body is left behind (cf. 2 Cor 5:3-4). That Paul in v. 2 is thinking of the heavens as a place where some kind of ethereal body that is now literally existent is probably false. Just like in 1 Cor 15:47, when Paul speaks in v. 2 of "the heavens" he is referring to God in the fullness of his presence and glory. Paul thus describes the risen body as "from heaven" in v. 2 in that it is the direct work of the Spirit of God (cf. 1 Cor 15:47-49).
​
(5) On Josephus, "at no point in any of these texts does Josephus adopt the clear verbs for resurrection used by the Hellenistic translators of Dan 12:2. His language resembles reincarnation far closer than the texts of resurrection surveyed in this chapter." (John Granger Cook, Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis, Mohr Siebeck, 2018, pp. 513). Paul in 1 Cor 15 is expressing a flesh and bones resurrection as evidence by his use of the language that Josephus here starkly avoids: the Jewish language of resurrection (egeiro and anastasis).
Plus, as D. Boyarin writes: “Josephus’s allusion ... to the idea of metempsychosis is presumably an attempt to present resurrection in a form more familiar to his audience.” (Border Lines. The Partition of Judaeo-Christianity, 2004, pp. 13–22).
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bibliography

• Boyarin, Daniel. Border Lines The Partition of Judaeo-Christianity. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010.
• Cook, John Granger. “A Naked Seed: Platonism, Stoicism, or Agriculture in 1Cor 15,37?” Zeitschrift Für Die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft, vol. 111, no. 2, 2020, pp. 289–309. doi:10.1515/znw-2020-0012.
• Cook, John Granger. Empty Tomb, Resurrection, Apotheosis. Mohr Siebeck, (Tübingen), 2018.
• Cook, John Granger. “Resurrection in Paganism and the Question of an Empty Tomb in 1 Corinthians 15.” New Testament Studies, vol. 63, no. 1, 2017, pp. 56–75. https://doi.org/10.1017/S002868851600028X
• Daugherty, Kevin. Naked Bodies and Heavenly Clothing: gumnos in 2 Corinthians 5.3. Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism 8, (2011-2012).
• Elledge, C. D. Resurrection of the Dead in Early Judaism, 200 BCE-CE 2000. Oxford Univ. Press, 2016.
• University, Houston Baptist. “Jesus's Resurrection and Ours According to Paul the Apostle.” Houston Baptist University, 15 July 2016. https://hbu.edu/news-and-events/2016/07/15/jesuss-resurrection-according-paul-apostle/
• Ware, James P., Paul's Theology in Context: Creation, Incarnation, Covenant, and Kingdom. William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2019.
• Ware, James P. " Paul's Understanding of the Resurrection in 1 Corinthians 15:36–54." Journal of Biblical Literature , Vol. 133, No. 4 (Winter 2014), pp. 809-835 https://doi.org/10.15699/jbibllite.133.4.809
• Ware, James P. “The Resurrection of Jesus in the Pre-Pauline Formula of 1 Cor 15.3–5.” New Testament Studies, vol. 60, no. 4, 2014, pp. 475–498. doi:10.1017/s0028688514000150

akin to *'g^hel- "gold", *h2el- "grow", *wes(H)- "buy, sell",... *h2ey- "lifetime, eternity", *ḱel- "to hide, conceal", *h2ew- "to cover", *h2ew- "to perceive", *h2ek^w- "to perceive", *sek^w- "to seek", *weyd- "to see", *h2weyd "rigveda"
The variable *h2 was a phonetic feature added to the beginning of words and stressed whenever neighbouring dialects lenited the initial. It was stressed so much it became interpreted as consonant. This process of epenthesis repeated many times until a whole morpheme, *h3reg- was geminated that had to be assigned some meaning, which was invariably drawn from the nearest semantic element. So you get Weite in German as well as Reichweite and Reich, next to Weide, a titular see (not sea!). You also get wisdom and reckoning. And of course you get hear, *hek^w "perceive" as a kind of backformation after a supposed **h2ew-yd (aka *weyd- "see", cp. *-yos < *ey < *h1e, loc. vedyas, or... doesn't really matter) from *h2ew-, *h2oi "away", from *u~*w as in *k^w- "primary interrogative particle" from *'ke- "he(re)" or as well in *wi "separate" (formally *wey-); Confere Kloekhorst in Precursors of Proto-Indo-European 2019 for a not quite similar treatment of *sed- "sit" and Hittite "sit" (and please send a copy my way if you have the pdf). Differences in phonemic quality of the consonants have to be explained through borrowing relationships in a dialect discontinuum.
Arya can't be derived from *h2ews- directly either, but it should be relatively obvious to the inclined reader that *-s was a fuzed nominal ending after loaning into Mongolian. Why Mongolian? Now it's getting complicated but these questions have to be asked.
s-rhotacizm is common to many dialects, as for Latin, German, I don't know, I'm no expert. I haven't thought this through, and forgot the rest. The possibilities are sheer endless, with Caucasian chiefly in the middle and Altaic, Uralic, even *hewsemitic in the peripherie. Indeed, the Greek khrusos was deemed a Semitic loan by the gods of etymology, and, in fact, most common words for gold seem to be loans one way or another.
Now, the Irony is iff Aryans considered themselves shiny, just like Nubians might want to derive their name from nbw "gold" (Egyptian), but to everyone else they are tanned; they might consider themselves western, in reference to the mountains, and northern with regards to the Himalaya, but from the European perspective its the far east. Then pretty much everyone would turn in their graves and show em the backside for such zeal as to call oneself golden boys. Still, everyone wanted to make a trade and talk is cheap so they talked, but instead of Georgian okro "gold" they received ochre and started to decorate their dead with that instead. The similarity to khrusos as well as Old Chinese /*k(r)[ə]m/ "metal, bronze" (金 (gam1) "gold, metal, money") and various other copper alloys has surely not gone past you.
Besides gold and iron, one of the most priced trades must have been in textiles. It cannot be stressed enough how incredibly important fabrics must have been at a time when you couldn't shop a sweater for five bucks at the next woolworth. Even in medieval times have shreds of textile been used as payment, not to mention that the Phoenicians have made a name for themselves with dyestuff (Tyrian purple; cp. purple, πορφῠ́ρᾱ (porphúrā), "purple-fish (Hexaplex trunculus) Synonym: κᾰ́λχη (kálkhē))", cp.parphume) and the most important east-west corridors came to be known as silk-road for a reason.
Words for linen and flax do show an affinity to Turkic, Mongolian and even Chinese. Chinese yama "flax", Mongolian jamaa, Yakut namaa "goat" compare to *h3owes "sheep, bird", *h2ew- "cover". The common notion relevant to our subject is only the shiny whitewashed aspect of the matter, be it the feather of the gulls/mews (cp. ma(re) avis "sea bird") or sheep wool. The Sanskrit word for flax is consequently uma, which today has various related meaning in Hindi, as pre dicted:

उमा (umā)
flax
linseed
light
splendor
fame
reputation
night
tranquility

It's also pretty close to om the meditative syllable thought to bring enlightenment. Now the gist of the matter is, ya- does not directly compare to *h2ew-, but one can try. 亞 (ya) is not a sign of the templar knights, but is interpreted as "Asian", where 麻 (ma) more or less depicts hemp hung up to dry as a synonym to flax as it were. It would be appeing then to simply equate ya with "east", but a more trivial solution can be found in it's use as "kinship prefix" as for common cultivar, garden variety, whereas the reconstruction OC /ʔˁrak-s/ seems quite different anyway, and MC ‹ ʔæH › a little too late (the pronounciation as *ya stems from a more common compound sign "brother, son-in-law" reading the cross therein as phonetic component), and the meaning "Asia" is just short for 亞細亞, a transcription of Greek asia. Lol whut? And what about China or Sina?
*h2ey-, as mentioned in the beginning, is "lifetime, eternity" in English e-ver, OE ae, German jeh, derivative *h2oyu- > Greek aei, Ger. ewig (*h2oyw-).
This compares well to *ey ~ *h1e- > *hoyn- "one", as in once as far as it pertains to time, as well as *h2el- whence all as far as it pertains to quantities, but it's not clear to me how one were to be derived from the other. With respect to *h2ew(s), the shapes of *seh2wl- and *peh2wr- might be suggestive. Further, *ḱel- "to hide, conceal" and *h2ew- "to cover" were practically synonymous, while the former also derives color as well as German hell "bright", the pressing question should be, was *H2 retained as *K in dialect and fed back into the core language (because we see reflexes of both everywhere)? This would go towards *h2leg- "venerate" versus holy, whole; OE hlot versus a lot (as if ae lot); *(s)kew- "to cover" (uncertain, cp. shoe) at which point I refer to my post inquiring about the name of the Scythian.
Further comparison to seeing, showing and light is relatively obvious so I will leave it that.
"consonants have to be explained through borrowing" (I about two hours ago) is not a watertight explanation, so please, prove me correct. Otherwise, merry fryday to U.
PS: Please flair as you see fit.

Original post, with commentaries on the first 9 chapters, chapters 10-24, chapters 25-36
———
CHAPTER 37
Now that Ahab has formed his death cult, he soliloquizes—and Ishmael is either eavesdropping or fabricating, but either way he means to convey the spirit of the man if not his letter. Ahab's voyage through life leaves "pale waters, paler cheeks" in his wake, sowing chaos wherever he goes yet where he goes he goes with unobstructed course and direction. His ripples are smoothed over by the billowing envy of men, but he cares not; he cares not for monuments and memorials, no, only for deeds done and the merit he acquires for himself in his own eyes. For when the sun sets, his "soul mounts up!"—his task as unceasing as the day-and-night cycle, but his soul reflecting not the light of the sun as the moon, but weighing on him with his task like the "Iron Crown of Lombardy", a small crown forged from the nail of Jesus' cross, the weight of sacrifice Ahab's to bear.
The clouds that set on his brow are no object; his Atlantean task is the crucifixion he bears, having been dismasted and reborn. He fancies himself not the son of God, but His equal in will and war, Satan made a man—set apart from the rest in charisma and intelligence, cloistering himself in his superlative ambitions whose reach leaves no room for human connection, and indeed actively forsake it through hard-hearted, eloquent guile that convinces pragmatic men to stake their lives on his goal.
Ahab must've had a perverse spiritual awakening while he lay dying, paved by his education, but instead of becoming a prophet and trying to speak God's truth, he's become the mad king whose words are iron spun like gold, who mistakes his enlightenment for alienation because he's unwilling to share it. Rather, he's content to dismiss those who disapprove of him and to brood about what he lacks: the simple pleasures of casual conversation, light-hearted humor, basking in sunlight,—"damned! most subtly and most malignantly! damned in the midst of Paradise!", his soul hibernating to incubate horrors.
Ahab reflects that leaguing his men was "not so hard a task", since he'd apparently convinced everyone—though Ishmael neglected to share how or if he was moved by the speech—to give their loyalty to him, even Starbuck who thought him mad, but Ahab, verging on self-awareness, declares:

I’m demoniac, I am madness maddened! That wild madness that’s only calm to comprehend itself!

Where Ahab goes, there turbulence will be in his wake, so long as his grandiose task remains his ultimate goal. The men's diversity doesn't faze him:

my one cogged circle fits into all their various wheels, and they revolve.

High aloft, Ahab can view and move men as "ant-hills of powder", ignitable thanks to Ahab's own fire, that makes his seldom-used pillow into an oven-baked brick. This hellfire leads Ahab to proclaim his apotheosis:

I now prophesy that I will dismember my dismemberer. Now, then, be the prophet and the fulfiller one. That’s more than ye, ye great gods, ever were.

Where gods use fate and fortune to move men on the world as their gameboard to achieve their ends, transcendent and detached, Ahab is both player and piece, and strives to cast out fate from within and retake fortune to his own whim and will, to become a self-moved mover. Ahab's soliloquy includes a direct challenge to the gods:

come and see if ye can swerve me. Swerve me? ye cannot swerve me, else ye swerve yourselves! man has ye there.

Ahab fancies himself a river, faithful to the ungraspable impermanence of life, yes, but immovable in his self-set course, the iron rails of his destiny laid out in defiance of all forms of fate other than his own:

Naught’s an obstacle, naught’s an angle to the iron way!

Ahab doesn't consider that even his actions could be part of providence, for he's excluded all other purposes than piercing the masked dark of Plato's cave as paths to fulfillment. Active commitment to misery, nothing to blunt it, as though this iron way would falter and betray its fragility otherwise.
———
CHAPTER 38
Starbuck sees Ahab's "impious end", but has been so overwhelmed that Ahab's charisma may well be a new form of fate befitting the quest for apotheosis we're seeing unfolding:

the ineffable thing has tied me to him; tows me with a cable I have no knife to cut.

Starbuck bemoans that Ahab's chief source of hypocrisy is that he would treat his superiors to democracy—though, from the last chapter, only to outwit them, the gods, on an even playing field—but everyone else to his despotism. Starbuck saw Ahab's "lurid woe", a weight that would crush him or any other man to bear, a violent and contagious atheism that Starbuck believes forced him "to obey, rebelling"—to rebel against God, by obeying the man who stands against Him. But God isn't jealous or petty, Starbuck reasons, so He may forgive Ahab and ensure that they never cross paths with the white whale. That's a pittance of hope, after seeing Ahab's determination, and Starbuck isn't ready to acknowledge that despite the leaden, locked weight of his heart evidencing plainly enough that he has no hope of Ahab's woe dissipating before his success or failure.
This really is the Dusk of Starbuck's soul; his "soul beat down and held to knowledge,—as wild, untutored things are forced to feed", he awakens to the horrors of the voyage: the "heathenish crew", the white whale as their "demigorgon"—an abyssal, creative god likely synonymous with the forbidden demiurge—, even the water itself taking on "wolfish" and "sharkish" qualities whose howl hunts Ahab, drawn along in the aft by the "gay, embattled, bantering bow"—the ship itself gradating from sunny to tenebrous while the vast deep latches onto Starbuck's newfound paranoia. Starbuck finds his hope in finding the horrors outwards, enabling him to fight the "grim, phantom futures" "with the soft feeling of the human in [him]". Starbuck might just have the guts for a mutiny at this rate, finding it in him to defy Ahab's blasphemous fate.
———
CHAPTERS 39&40
With more stageplay directives, Stubb soliloquizes about how

a laugh’s the wisest, easiest answer to all that’s queer; and come what will, one comfort’s always left—that unfailing comfort is, it’s all predestinated.

Carefree Stubb is trying to take in stride the outcomes of this voyage, outcomes that are out of his hands, no matter what they be, refracting Starbuck's newfound horror and finding the "waggish leering" that lurks in it—for now Starbuck has received the same treatment that Stubb did, and both men now share in some of the burning light that Ahab harbors, slight shares that were yet enough to send both spiraling into existential crises of reflection—on fate and death and God—higher than either would otherwise ever take interest in.
Whereas Starbuck responded by renewing his courage, Stubb reacts with forced, delirious humor, conflating it with wisdom, trying to abate his worry about not being able to return to his family, his love bubbling up—light, gay, and fleeting—like alcoholic froth to be swallowed down. The aside directive when Stubb is summoned from his nightwatch by Starbuck seems like a fourth-wall break, if that concept means anything for a non-play acting like a play—but it makes this scene feel surreal.
Uh, the whole crew of watchmen gets a musical scene, those awake filliped and those asleep deadened by the wine of Ahab's charisma—despite having no choice in their assigned roles, each man has to make peace with his newfound sense of inevitability, one sailor trying to invite the sleepers up with the pronouncement that now is "the resurrection; they must kiss their last, and come to judgment." This chapter is a full-fledged song-and-dance play-script, and Ishmael didn't bother learning many sailors' names—only their ethnicities—despite knowing the mother's maiden name and backstory of many other characters. One is even named "3D Nantucket Sailor"; so glad he's not a flatlander.
Tashtego mocks the song-and-dance, and the old Manx sailor wonders whether they have any idea what they're dancing over. The "whole world's a ball" and the course is set and fixed, so let them, green and jolly, let them celebrate and drink life while it's still brimming and frothing. Some of them are already horny and lonely, commiserating over the lack of women to distract themselves from a coming storm—the first karmic storm of Ahab's death cult, perhaps. Ahab has no fear of storms; worse, his direction is to attack the squalls—"fire your ship right into it!" The storm darkens angrily, a formation in the sky like Ahab's birthmark: "lurid-like, ye see, all else pitch black."
Daggoo, "quarried out of [blackness]", takes offense to this fear of the storm's dark, but grimly assents when told that his "race is the undeniable dark side of mankind", the same sailor provoking him into a fight. "Knife thee heartily! big frame, small spirit!" The crew eggs them on; the whole scene is frenzied. "A row a’low, and a row aloft—Gods and men—both brawlers!" A recreation of the arena in which "Cain struck Abel. Sweet work, right work! No? Why then, God, mad’st thou the ring?" The Manxman questions why God created the conditions for violence and then discouraged it.
The stormy climate keeps cutting off the thoughts the sailors try to express, leaving loose-ended, half-baked confusion—and the fight is interrupted by urgent orders to prepare for the oncoming squalls, their white froth every bit as ominous as the black storm overhead, yet to Pip less so than the white squalls of the maddened men seeking now the white whale. Timid Pip prays to "thou big white God" to save him from the men whose fear has been overridden by drunken courage, which is doing no good for the race relations aboard the ship. The chaos of this chapter sets up the ironic contrasts between black and white—both foreboding and hostile to many—in man and God and nature.
———
CHAPTER 41
Aha, Ishmael admits that he too was taken in by Ahab's charisma:

A wild, mystical, sympathetical feeling was in me; Ahab’s quenchless feud seemed mine.

But Ishmael had a sympathy, whether unrelated or pretextual, before even meeting Ahab; this is halfway to what he wanted, a noble part in a great tragedy. After immersing himself in the death cult, Ishmael gathered all the information he could about the white whale, how it "haunted those uncivilized seas mostly frequented by the Sperm Whale fishermen", how it evaded capture in both body and idea because of the scattered, prolonged, uncoordinated trajectories of the whaling vessels, and how "as of late" attacks by sperm whales "of great ferocity, cunning, and malice" were frequent.
Instead of possibilities like sperm whales who survived whalers becoming hostile toward shy, or the ocean itself starting to reject its guests, Ishmael jumps to the conclusion that every such report must have been an encounter with the whale. Since sperm whales are terrifying enough, few thought anything special about Ahab's tale, sharing Starbuck's stance about it being a "dumb brute", despite bouts with this whale leading to calamitous bad luck that ensured it always slipped away with minimal damage.
Sailors' proneness to superstition allowed rumors of Moby Dick to circulate and metastasize "as the smitten tree gives birth to its fungi"—whalers in particular, being likeliest of all to be "brought into contact with whatever is appallingly astonishing in the sea", exactly what is needed to stimulate the imagination and birth a modern myth, an urban legend spanning most of the watery part of the globe that eventually made otherwise daring hunters outright refuse to give chase to that whale, perhaps the greatest portend of bad luck any seaman could come across, hinting as it did of "supernatural agencies" and "morbid hints" beyond the scope of a normal sperm whale's destructive aggression.
Ishmael accuses of "professional inexperience, or incompetency, or timidity" anyone who would avoid hunting a sperm whale while willingly pursuing other large whales, as though the tests of mettle such whales pose are relatively unremarkable—perhaps as a rite of passage, for being able to challenge and usurp the monarchs of the sea. Non-American whalers—thus those less ambitious in their ambits—had seldom encountered sperm whales except in fairytales, but those who did demystified their stories only to trade them for confrontations with the sublime, "pre-eminent tremendousness" of the real deal, sperm whales in this setting reported as being unanimously anxiogenic and malicious to everything else in the sea—despite sperm whales having been elusive, hence the bowhead whales popularly regarded as the monarchs of the sea. That slipperiness and shyness has given way now that Americans dare to graze the whole ocean surface to exploit its oily, blubbery resources.
While "the general experiences in the fishery" amended some of the overblown rumors, such as that sperm whales were so scary that their mere presence caused other fish to kill themselves, the worst sperm whales had to offer ever renewed the superstitions that condensed into the myth of Moby Dick, which nevertheless many men were hardy (or foolhardy) enough to push themselves through for monetary gain were they to "chase and point lance at such an apparition". Claims of encounters with a monstrous whale at the same time at faraway places created the fancy that the white whale was ubiquitous or, perhaps courtesy of a hollow Earth with expedient currents, unfathomably fast; and that it was immortal, or possessed of such great durability and regeneration that it might as well be. One of Moby Dick's distinct features is a "pyramidical white hump", like the unkickable pyramid Stubb's dream used to symbolize Ahab, or even the ancient pyramids used for astronomical panoramas, encompassing in one view the starry sky.
Whereas the jarring storm in the last chapter was fearsome for its blackness, this whale's whiteness is the storm's complement: black storm descending from the heavens of the white God, white whale ascending from the hells of the black abyss; dark, Satanic Ahab with his white wake there to meet both head-on at their point of convergence, the limen of the surface. While the whale's magnitude and hue were unsettling enough, it was its "intelligent malignity", displaying abstract reasoning enough to deceive and escape all whalers theretofore, that reached through the wall of the mythos to strike fear into the hearts of listeners.
What kind of whale acts routed to lure whaleboats after it, only to suddenly spring on them and stove or repel them? And in marked contrast with the "serene, exasperating sunlight, that smiled on, as if at a birth or a bridal"—as shipwreck and lost limbs lay strewn about. Moby Dick is not just a killer; it might be an artist with a keen sense of irony. It lured Ahab in such a way, and "swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them"—malice "to whose dominion even the modern Christians ascribe one-half of the worlds".
To Ahab, vengeance has not just the appeal of piercing the fatal wall of Plato's cave, but of purging the world of an idea of evil, as if will and fury could localize such a subtle and vast sweep into one body.

He piled upon the whale’s white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart’s shell upon it.

Where Ahab errs most, apart from misunderstanding that the symbolism of literary monsters doesn't work like that—that would be some fine magic if it did—, is that he even sets himself against "all truth with malice in it", refusing to accept the essential reality of evil and in part thereby partaking in evil with his sacrificial machinations.
In Ishmael's mind, Ahab heaped on the whale all of the rage and hate felt in human history—not just toward whales, thus not just against the morale of Jonah's fable, but all sense of injustice, man the measure and maker of moral means and meanings. Ahab's wrath toward the whale began as any other man's, festering in his anguish on the passage home, strapped in a straitjacket because of his lunatic outbursts, to turn him into who he is now:

then it was, that his torn body and gashed soul bled into one another; and so interfusing, made him mad.

His bronze, hollow body is the result of optimal decoction to blur the mind-body—and also idea-object—gap, enabling the grandiosity of his plans, himself the cult leader to execute them, his agency turned to instrumentality as he locked himself into the cogwheel of the fate he set for himself, his version of freedom, here—if I am interpreted "living instrument" right—a form of servitude baser and weaker than that of heeding God's plan. And with the bindings of his charisma, those he entrains into his orbit are heretics who lose all of the merit of faith and gain what? Gain the glory, fleeting and perhaps phantasmic, of following a great man? Lose themselves in the constitution of the mythos pseudo-prophetic Ishmael weaves them and himself into?
Ishmael withholds a straight description of Ahab's role, declaring it "vain to popularize profundities, and all truth is profound." Ahab's "whole awful essence" resides deep underground, a captive king with a broken throne, mocked by the gods he equals himself to, a pillar holding up history and the upper earth with his frozen brow—frozen by the Cocytus, perhaps, the lamentational river commemorating the doom wrought by knowing betrayal. Ahab caught glimpse of his state:

all my means are sane, my motive and my object mad.

—yet he lacked the power to alter truth, only to deceiving men about his sanity—or, as Peleg, happily overlooking his moodiness for the whales it would butcher.
This chapter is called "Moby Dick", but there is no Moby Dick without Ahab, nor Ahab, however superlative and unsaintly, without Moby Dick. And there would be no mad Ahab if any aboard the Pequod had seen through his ruses, nor if any of the mates were more than "morally enfeebled"—Starbuck with his "unaided virtue" (and lying about having no-one on his ship who doesn't fear whales, when literally the other three officers don't fear whales), Stubb's "indifference and recklessness" (from being a druggie with little respect for life or thought of death), and Flask's "pervading mediocrity" (from treating the whaling enterprise as a sadistic comedy show).
None of them were a match for Ahab's bewitching "evil magic" that struck in their impious chests the fear of God—but no god other than Ahab himself, whose forcible contagion of his vendetta may well have been telepathy. Ishmael doesn't even try to explain how this all fits together, nor does he show guilt or shame about having been taken in in like manner himself, only admitting that he gave himself "to the abandonment of the time and the place"—to a feud that Ahab's madness made timeless, spanning the history of mankind, against a monster coeval and co-evil with mankind, who could be at once many places on the globe.
One part of Ahab knows well what he's doing is futile and atrocious; another part thinks that he's tallying the debt of the original sin with the premium fetched by butchering the whale incarnating all sources and targets of human wrath, those perhaps being God's wrath—such an infinite task that the sacrifice of a handful of men seems a fair price, if not a pittance, for its accomplishment.

The subterranean miner that works in us all, how can one tell whither leads his shaft by the ever shifting, muffled sound of his pick?

Ishmael is unequipped to analyze the unconscious, inward, homuncular workings of fate—but his instincts told him to learn about Ahab before boarding, and he didn't listen.
———
CHAPTER 42
Ishmael moves on to explaining what the white whale was to him, on top of being his primary motive for sailing. "It was the whiteness of the whale that above all things appalled me." Leaning fully into the mystical monster motif, Ishmael shudders to articulate the whale's horror in comprehensible terms, and starts by outlining the broadest contours of it with his symbolic associations to whiteness: beauty, royalty—Ahab's sultanism is conveniently unmentioned—, the white man's "ideal mastership over every dusky tribe", joy and gladness, innocence, "the benignity of age"—in stark contrast with Ahab's iron grey iron way—, honor, "the majesty of Justice in the ermine of the Judge", "divine spotlessness and power", and even redemption—all of these, more or less relevant to the whale, pale in comparison to the terror that raw whiteness untamed by any of these contexts, thus marring them with its irony and dissonance, produces, such as from polar bears—"invested in the fleece of celestial innocence and love"—or great-white sharks, their silent lethality earning them in French a name connoting (with no etymological basis) requiems, or angelic albatrosses, "whence come those clouds of spiritual wonderment and pale dread".
For Ishmael, the albatross, thanks to its vast range, is a reminder of "the miserable warping memories" of civilization, compounded by his witnessing of one being captured and forced to send a letter, a holy messenger demoted to a mailman. Most of Ishmael's associations with whiteness have been to things integral to modern civilization, their meaning and primacy challenged by the great animals that have borne white and its terrible significance since the dawn of Adam. He even calls the white steed an "apparition of that unfallen, western world"—whiteness becomes a reminder of the immaculate debt, not one blotch made in it by the whole monumental passion of humanity's lineage, accrued from the original sin.
The religious whiteness attests to this: that becoming like God means donning white clothes, which admits to being far from God, constituting such practices as pretensions. Whiteness is the unattainable moral purity that people think they strive for, yet ever fall short of, unable to find grace or glory from within and trying to recreate and master it with their trinkets, their incapacity to do so forced upon them in the encounter with a white apex predator. The white symbols of dominance take this further: under the guise of bringing moral purity, restricted to their faction under their flag, people's conquests abstract them ever-more from whiteness of soul, often while blaming their victims' blackness of skin for everyone's blackness of sin—spiritual death.
Ishmael even regards albino people as more abhorrent than disabled or black people, but segues back into the whiteness of death: white squalls that strike abruptly to wreck ships, the "marble pallor" of corpses, ghostly fog, death as the "king of terrors". White is uncanny, its portend of things being out-of-place a subtle resonance with what is unhomely in ourselves, what our bodies and souls can't home that we would like them to—enduring physical and moral vitality. Ahab aims to use his overwhelming physical vitality to remove moral vitality from the equation of human flourishing.
Ishmael invokes "hooded" and "phantom" several times each here, hearkening back to his reference in the first chapter to the white whale as a "grand hooded phantom, like a snow-hill in the air"—Ishmael makes little use of snow in his associations, but the eerie quiet and concealment it provides is implicated in each case.
The subtle and sublime terror of whiteness is complementary to that of a raging storm, and can manifest even to the uneducated in a mention of the White Suntide of the descent of the Holy Spirit to prognosticate the tidings of the end times, blurring the life-and-death boundary with karmic, salvific promises.
The phantasmic quality of whiteness may also point to all of this religious talk as being smoke and fog, empty distractions from the possibility that what follows death is nothing but eternal paralytic silence, no grand unity, no pearly gates at the end of a successful redemption arc—Ishmael's rambling is so unfocused that it comes across as him deliberately avoiding drawing connections like these, as though the powers of whiteness he's evoking are seeping into his own words to his own eyes. And that's a funny thing: he's writing on white paper, his creative act blemishing it with black ink—which is a lousy substitute for the black blood of the white whale—, but that interplay, the creativity and communication indissociable from the whiteness of paper, is not brought up.
Ishmael contents himself with claiming that certain white entities have significant effects on people, but not why unless the explanation is palatable—the ironic dissonance of the white predators can transfer over to these religious and other symbols, but their analogous implications would be far more calamitous to Ishmael's already-infirm faith, faith that has consistently been sublated by, and thus subordinated to, whaling—all of these symbolic resonances comprise a collage of the panoramic white whale, of its mere surface, already vast and haunting enough, and which Ishmael is suspiciously reluctant to try to penetrate despite having the intelligence and experience to.
This surficial contouring takes the shape of avoidance, which can only be achieved by his subterranean miner knowing the position of what lurks in the volcanic depths of his unconscious. Ishmael often relates whiteness to gripping or stimulating the imagination, such as an artist would appreciate, but he showed in chapter one that he understands the import of context in artistry—water unique in its motion being tranquil—, context lacking here through nondifferentiation, a polyphony whose sheer pluripotential is cacophonous.
In the disaster-stricken city of Lima, white's purity "keeps her ruins for ever new; admits not the cheerful greenness of complete decay"—there is the irony of Lima connoting lime-green, and perhaps of death's horse being chlorine-green. Where green signals change, the freshening of death-and-rebirth cycles, white is timeless, locks its pallid corpses in marble tombs to be forever silent.
White is also impotent by itself, but exacerbates the terrible effects of entities it manifests in; white is ungraspable, no less than any other color, because it can only be apprehended through a white thing with a white context given to it that excludes other possible resonances, doubly so for the unimaginative mind—would a sailor near shore feel trepid at white water because of its whiteness or because of the stoving rocks it may conceal? What about the "boundless churchyard" of Antarctic seas, a desolation in which it would be too easy to lose oneself? Ishmael defends himself from the hypothetical accusation of this chapter being "a white flag hung out from a craven soul" by citing instinctual knowledge "of the demonism of the world", which implies that anyone who doesn't share his fear is both unimaginative and ignorant—unknown unknowing, unlike his known unknowing.

Though in many of its aspects this visible world seems formed in love, the invisible spheres were formed in fright.

Whiteness is a harpooneer of the void, piercing the soul with "the thought of annihilation", "a dumb blankness, full of meaning", "a colorless, all-colour of atheism", the truth behind the meretricious veil of coloration—the "mystical cosmetic" of light is white, its mediums birthing color. White is the splendor of God and the pallor of His absence, the lack of an in-between, the profound, profane indistinction between the two, and the metaphysic impli(cat)ed thereby. Ishmael has well-earned his mic drop: "And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?"
———
CHAPTERS 43&44
During a night-watch, a sailor circulates gossip about stowaways, with a hint that Ahab knows of them, and that the mates know he knows of them. This seems to refer back to the ghosts Ishmael and Elijah saw running to the Pequod very early—and since the ship was locked-up tight, if these were fleshy people, someone had to let them in, someone privy to the schedules of the final preparations. And someone else earlier pointed out how Ahab regularly slinks off for clandestine meetings, which would imply that Ahab boarded those hidden people, and convinced them one way or another to devote three years of their lives to him.
I assume these would be consultants or hunters, men to help with Ahab's quest and whom he can trust where he doesn't trust Starbuck or anyone else on the crew, who think him mad or lack ability. They could also be ghosts, especially after the recent monologue about spectral whiteness.
Ahab also spends a lot of his time with his chart, trying to map out the currents of the globe as precisely as he can, in relation to all the documented positions of sperm whales he could acquire. The lamp, suspended in chains overhead, is emblematic of his conscience—as we've been conditioned to associate lamplight with moral compasses—, shackled to light on his sole purpose.
Ahab knows of the migratory clockwork of sperm whales, the exactness of their instincts' directions—or "secret intelligence from the Deity"—far surpassing that of any navigational instrument, and tried to lay out the best spots to sail throughout the year for the best chances of crossing paths with a vein of sperm whales containing the white whale—Ahab the prospector of the pale mask concealing the gears of the gods of the world. Even with all the information at his disposal, this needle-in-a-haystack would seem hopeless to anyone with less than absolute faith in their resourcefulness and the worthiness of their cause.
Ahab's determination turns impossible odds into probabilities, "every probability the next thing to a certainty", a miracle in the making. While the sightings of Moby Dick gave no guarantee that it would reappear in those places the same time of year, an area called the Season-on-the-Line had seen the whale at regular times for several years straight: "there the waves were storied with his deeds; there also was that tragic spot where the monomaniac old man had found the awful motive to his vengeance."
The Pequod missed the interval for the SotL this year, so she will have to spend the next almost-year "in a miscellaneous hunt" with non-zero but unflattering odds of a fateful encounter with the white whale along the way. Moby Dick is utterly singular, so the matter of recognizing it was no issue—even the harpooneers know well what it looks like.
Ahab routinely works himself into torments of faintness dwelling on the whale, and his time spent on the deck in open air is just a recovery period between being able to brood and chart and maybe consort with his ghost passengers. It was common for Ahab's nightmares to jolt him awake:

these spiritual throes in him heaved his being up from its base, and a chasm seemed opening in him, from which forked flames and lightnings shot up, and accursed fiends beckoned him to leap down among them

—incubating this inward hell is the source and secret of Ahab's monstrous power, but these outbursts stemmed from his soul, dissociated in sleep from the iron leash of his mind to flee from his purpose, which had gained "self-assumed, independent being of its own", that malign purpose incarnating both Prometheus and his vultures gnawing away his spirit's organs, leaving it "without an object to colour, and therefore a blankness in itself." Ahab is the very monster he's promised to destroy, bending not just fate but chance and spirit to his will, and so gripped by trauma that his freedom of will—or its exercise here—is dubious at best.
———
After chapter 42, The Whiteness of the Whale, it felt like everything had fallen into place, all of the physical and philosophical set-up accomplished. I was so moved by chapter 42 that I am only halfway joking when I want to label Moby Dick a horror story. Melville understands how literary monsters work on a profound level that, conceptually, no one I'm aware of even comes close to. All of Ishmael's loose threads collaging the immeasurable surface of the monster, and then how they were abruptly and marvelously tied together near the end with the nucleus of a legitimate metaphysic—I was floored. One thing that often elevates epics above other works is their usage of metaphysics rounding out their cosmology and permeating their entire world with the story's thematic values. (My sample size is admittedly small, but Dante and Milton do this as well.) In this case, whiteness is the indissoluble, all-or-nothing tension between God and no God, and the existential dread people hide from or expose themselves to with their positive and negative symbols of whiteness.
I had these commentaries written up a few days ago and read ahead, and I totally lost steam for coming up with new, enriching things to say. This will be my last post on Moby Dick for a while, I think. If I strain myself to squeeze meaning that just isn't flowing fairly organically to me, I'm worried that I'll not only stop enjoying the ride but also that my pacing will grind to a halt. And I've already spent just about a month reading this. It's certainly worth three months if this level of quality is consistent throughout, but forcing myself to commentate on it daily is just needless stress. And like I said, the end of chapter 42 felt like a tipping point.
That said, Ahab has shot up into my top-5 favorite characters. Everything he says is pure gold, and his borderline-supernatural powers are written in such a compelling and reasonable way that he edges out Milton's Satan, another top-5er for me, in some respects because of how grounded he is and how direct his influence and its consequences are. This is what people probably imagine cult leaders are like, and the fact that cult leaders do exist makes Ahab's abilities plausible even if I've never met anyone who came close to being able to do what he does. The fact that his purpose became a self-sufficient thoughtform in the same area as his mind and soul, and not just that but led his soul to try to break free from his body, is chilling—and his self-awareness craftily maneuvers so as to never lead him to a genuine epiphany, totally detached from the implications of the words Ishmael puts in his mouth he thinks he believes. Here is a man at war with himself, with his fellow men, with the world, with God, and with the possibility of the absence of God. His situation reminds me of one of the times (73-78) Satan almost comes off his warpath:

Me miserable! which way shall I flieInfinite wrauth, and infinite despaire?Which way I flie is Hell; my self am Hell;And in the lowest deep a lower deepStill threatning to devour me opens wide,To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n.

He's staked his identity so deeply in his retribution against God and fate that if he gave that up he would have a very, very long road to redemption. Despite his capacity, he is hollow; from the start, he was prepared to abandon his family, sacrifice his crew, and do absolutely anything necessary to strike into the depths of the heart of the world. At the same time, his moral failures are why Ishmael is here writing this story. There's enough foreshadowing to conclude that the Pequod is going to sink because of Moby Dick and Ahab's brazen tyranny, which means that Ishmael survived to tell the story. Is there a reason for that, somewhere in the tangled white knot of various concepts of fate that have been threaded together and in which free will, foreknowledge, and chance have snaked their ways? A project as large as this novel implies that he found his will to live, if he's sitting down and committing to it; and it's not a project that would be feasible to work on at sea, with how hard sailors seem to be worked. Moreover, someone would need a compelling reason to undertake such a story. Whatever happened to Ishmael on the voyage must've been something profound.
The paradoxical, inexhaustible, and ambiguous nature of the whale itself hearkens all the way back to the image of the ungraspable phantom of life in which Narcissus drowned in the first chapter, the transient self-image that obsesses and beckons us, that compels us to understand while tantalizing us with how it is nothing but a reflection on a surface—no depth, not even the solidity of being a surface. If these depths are accessible, they are so in a form that frustrates any efforts to capture them in definitive, plain language. I mean, if Ishmael had a straightforward message for us he would've been an essayist or preacher and not a doorstopper novelist.
Taking us on this massive journey, charged with his embellishments and astute digressions, seems to be his way of leading us to glimpse the mystical, mythical experience that inspired his writing this. He attributed to Bulkington the transcendence participated in through a violent death at sea, through being consumed by the intolerable truth of that ungraspability, that abjuration of all solid ground, which, taken for truth, is treacherous, a lure that ensures doom while assuring lee—lee that can mean either shelter or dregs (the body being the lees of Ishmael's better being), and the lee shore turning the lee into something to avoid at all costs. Ishmael's obsession has often felt like him being bitter that he's wasted the rest of his life trying to glimpse that transcendence, and that level of obsession, particularly with its outright disregard for knowledge and reasoning he undoubtedly had access to, would only be sparked by a direct encounter with it, and marinated only by having the temperament and mindset to reflect on it—exactly what occurred to Ahab and twisted him into a human Satan. That also implies that a lot of the digressions are Ishmael trying to catch us up to his mindset to be able to receive his prophetic message in a meaningful form.
So yeah, I fully intend to finish this novel, but play-by-plays are off the table now for at least a while. I've also been feeling terrible, like, pretty much since late November, and the last week (basically right after I finished chapter 42) or so I've been spiraling, with very little mental energy and clarity to spare. I want to try to do a more comprehensive commentary of the moral, existential, and religious landscape once I have more energy and have made more progress. Well, we'll see how that goes. I appreciate this community for giving me a supportive space in which to share my thoughts, as long-winded and amateurish as they are.

LAMENTATIONS   Chapter Two  

Distress [צערה, *Tsah`ahRaH] of TseeYON [Zion], their fall [נגרם, NahGRahM] upon hands of the Name [ה', Hah’]  

-1. How he disgraces [יעיב, Yah`eeYB] in his fury [באפו, Be’ahPO], my Lords, [את, ’ehTh] Daughter TseeYON, sent forth from skies [to] land,
[the] splendor [תפארת, TheePh’ehRehTh] [of] YeeSRah-’ayL [“Strove God”, Israel],
and he does not remember the stool [הדמ, HahDoM] of his legs in [the] day [of] his fury.  

“The word יעיב [YaheeYB*] is regularly derived from עוב [*OoB], ‘to becloud,’ but it is better derived, with Ehrlich, et al. [and others], from a middle yôdh root which is found in Arabic and means ‘to disgrace.’ As it stands, the verb is frequentative imperfect, but the LXX [the Septuagint, the ancient Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible] reads the perfect. The splendor of Israel may be the temple (cf. [compare with] Isa [Isaiah]. 64:11 [Hebrew 64:10]) or the city (cf. Isa. 13:19), cast down like a falling star (cf. Isa. 14:12) …” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 16)  
“His footstool] The ark of the covenant…” (Adam Clarke, 1831, p. IV 150)  

-2. Swallowed [בלע, *BeeLah*], my Lords, **no pity**, [את, *’ehTh*] all habitations [נאות, *Ne’OTh*] [of] Yah-ahQoB ["YHVH Followed", Jacob];
threw down [הרס, HahRahÇ], in his crossing, strongholds of [מבצרי, MeeBTsRaY] Daughter YeHOo-DaH ["YHVH Knew", Judah],
arrived [הגיע, HeeGeeY`ah] to [the] land,
defiled [חלל, HeeLayL] her kingdom and her princes.  

“The verb בלע [BeeLah`], he hath swallowed up… appears again in vss. [verses] 5, 8, 16. The clauseחמל לא [Lo‘ HahMahL], without mercy… is in the adverbial accusative of manner, lit. [literally], ‘in that he did not show mercy’ … The same construction appears again in vss. 17, 21; 3:43. The word חלל [HeeLayL], ‘he has degraded’… is taken with the preceding verb by the RSV [Revised Standard Version] as adverbial, in dishonor, but this is contrary to the accents and it spoils the parallelism… The meter is clearly 2+3.” (Meek, 1956, pp. VI 16-17)  

-3. Hewed [גדע, GahDah`] in flared [בחרי, BahHahReeY] nostril every horn [of] YeeSRah-’ayL,
withdrew [השיב, HaySheeYB] rearward his right [hand], from before [the] enemy,
and burned in Yah-`ahQoB like fire,
a flame consuming around.  

“The might is, lit., the horn, a frequent symbol of strength in the O.T. [Old Testament, the Hebrew Bible] (again in vs. [verse] 17)… The meter of the last line is 2+2+2… The last stich is a relative clause, with the relative particle understood and the verb is in the perfect of experience, ‘which consumes the neighborhood’…” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 17)  

-4. Drew [דרך, DahRahKh] his bow, like an enemy,
set [נצב, NeeTsahB] his right [hand] like a distressor,
and killed all desirables of eye
in [the] tent [of] Daughter TseeYON;
poured out [שפך, ShahPhahKh] like fire his heat.  

“As regularly set up, this verse lacks a final stich… All the pride of our eyes: Lit., ‘all the desirable ones of the eye’…the first word being the same as that used of inanimate things in 1:10-11 (cf. 1:7), ‘treasures’.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 17)  

-5. Was, my Lords, like an enemy,
he swallowed up YeeSRah-’ayL,
he swallowed up all her palaces [ארמנותיה, ‘ahRMeNOThaYHah],
destroyed [שחת, ShahHahTh] its fortresses,
and multiplied in [the] house of YeHOo-DaH her moaning [תאניה, Thah’ahNYaH] and her mourning [ואניה, Vah’ahNYaH].  

“The כ [K, “like, as”] here expresses identity (usually called the kaph veritatis… it is better to call it the asservative kaph… ‘The Lord has really become an enemy’ or ‘has become a veritable enemy.’ The word ארמנותיה [‘ahRMeNOThaYHah], her palaces, must be emended to ‘his palaces’ to agree with his strongholds and the masculine antecedent of both, Israel [nah; I think the antecedent is Jerusalem]. Mourning and lamentation: Better, ‘mourning and moaning’… because this brings out the paronomasia¹ of the original [תאניה ואניה Tah‘ahNYaH Vah‘ahNYaH].” (Meek, 1956, pp. VI 17-18)  

-6. And he violated [ויחמס, VahYahHeMoÇ], like his garden booth [שכו, SooKO],
ruined [שחת, SheeHayTh] his assembly [מועדו, MO`ahDO],
made forget, YHVH, in TseeYON, assembly,
and made cease [ושבת, VeShahBahTh] and scorned [וינאץ, VahYeeN’ahTs], in his furious anger [בזעם-אפו, BeZah`ahM-’ahPO], king and priest.  

“The word שכו [SooKO], his booth, is found only here with ש [S] in place of ס [Ç]; it is parallel to [MO`ahDO]… i.e. [in other words], Yahweh destroyed his booth, the temple, as easily and with as little concern as one destroys a booth erected temporarily for shelter in a harvest field (cf. Isa. 1:8).” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 18)  

-7. Abandoned [זנח, ZahNahH], my Lords, from his altar,
rejected [נאר, Nee’ayR] from his sanctuary,
closed in [the] hand of an enemy [the] walls of her palaces,
a voice they gave in House YHVH like a day [of] assembly.  

“The word נאר [Nee‘ayR] is found only here and in Ps. [Psalm] 89:39 (Hebrew 89:40), and its meaning, disowned, is a conjecture from the context… A clamor was raised: Lit., ‘they [indefinite] gave a shout’ (cf. Ps. 74:4).” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 18)  

-8. Thought, YHVH, to ruin [the] walls [of] Daughter TseeYON,
stretched [נטה, NahTaH] a cord,
did not withdraw his hand from swallowing and aggrieving [ויאבל, VahYah’ahBahL];
rampart [חל, HayL] and wall together were made miserable [אמללו, ’ooMLahLOo].  

“… he hath stretched out a line, i.e., a plummet line, to discover defects, a figure drawn from building (cf. Amos 7:7-9…). This is a clear example of the 2+3 variant.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 18)  

-9. They sank [טבעו, TahB`Oo] in [the] land,
her gates destroyed [אבד, ’eeBayD], and broken her bolts [בריחיה, BReeYHehYHah].
Her queen and her princes were in nations.
There is no instruction [תורה, ThORaH],
also her prophets did not find vision from YHVH.  

“In the word בארץ [Bah‘ahRehTs], into the ground, the ב [B] is both terminative and locative. Since the line is too long metrically, one of the two synonymous verbs in the second stich must be taken as a variant reading, thus giving us a conflate text. The words עין תורה [`ayN [sic for אין, ’ayN] ThORaH], against the M.T. [Masoretic Text, the Hebrew Bible] punctuation, should be taken as a new clause, ‘there is no instruction,’ with the last word referring to priestly instruction, as indicated by the context and by comparison with Jer. 18:18… scarcely the law.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 19)  

-10. They sit to [the] land,
are dumb [ידמו, YeeDMOo],
elders of Daughter TseeYON.  

“The verbs in this line are both imperfect, but most scholars emend with the LXX and O.L. [Old Latin] (plus the Syriac, Vulg. [Vulgate], and Targ. [Targum, the ancient Hebrew and Aramaic commentary on the Hebrew Bible] for the first) to the perfect, to agree with the other verbs in the verse.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 19)  

They ascended dust [עפר, `ahPhahR] upon their head,
girded [הגרו, HahGROo] sacks,
descended to [the] land their head, virgin of Jerusalem.  
-11. Exhausted [כלו, KahLOo] in tears my eyes,
roiled [חמרמרו, HahMahRMahROo], my bowels,
poured to [the] land my liver,
upon [the] breaking [שבר ShehBehR] [of] [the] daughter [of] my people,
in fainting [בעטף, BayahTayPh*] [of] toddler [עולל, *OoLahL] and suckling [ויונק, VeYONayQ] in streets [of the] city.  

“The last clause in the first line also appears in 1:20… my liver, was regarded by the Hebrews as a seat of the emotions; for the metaphor cf. vs. 19; Ps. 62:8 (Hebrew 62:9). The word בעטף [Bay`ahTayPh], ‘because of the fainting,’ as pointed, is the causal (not temporal) ב [B], plus the Niphal infinitive construct³ , with the syncope of ה [H]; better pointed as Qal⁴ . In the streets of the city: Lit., ‘in the broad places of the city’; hence, ‘in the city squares’…” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 19)  

-12. To their mothers they say,
“Where [איה, ’ahYayH] is grain [דגן, DahGahN] and wine?”
in their fainting [בהתעטפם, BeHeeTh`ahTPhahM] like a casualty [כחלל, KehHahLahL] in streets [of the] city,
in pouring out [בהשתפך, BeHeeShTahPayKh] their soul unto [the] bosom [חיק, HaYQ] [of] their mothers.  

“When their soul was poured out into their mothers’ bosom] When, in endeavouring to draw nourishment from the breasts of their exhausted mothers, they breathed their last in their bosoms!” (Adam Clarke, 1831, p. IV 151)  
“The verb יאמרו [Yo’MROo] is imperfect to express frequentative action; hence ‘they keep saying’ (Amer. Trans.) …The preposition אל [‘ehL], ‘to,’ should be על [`ahL], on, a frequent mistake in the M.T.” (Meek, 1956, pp. VI 19-20)  

-13. What will I testify [about] you [אעידך, ’ah`eeYDayKh],
what will I liken [אדמה, ’ahDahMeH] to you, the daughter Jerusalem?
What will I equate [אשוה, ’ahSheVeH] to you and comfort you [ואנחמך, Vah’ahNahHahMayKh], virgin daughter [of] TseeYON?
For great as a sea is your breaking;
who will healer be to you?  

“The Qerê [marginal note] אעידך [’aheeYDayKh*; but this is the *Kethîbh* (written text) in my Hebrew Bible] is the Hiphil^5 of עוד [*OoD], which Ehrlich shows appears again in Jer. 49:19 and has the meaning ‘to liken,’ as indicated by the Vulg.: hence, ‘To what can I liken you?’ (Amer. Trans.), exactly parallel to the following stich. The compound vocative, ‘O daughter Jerusalem,’ is unusual… one MS [manuscript] and the LXX have the usual construct O daughter of Jerusalem, as in the next line, O virgin daughter of Zion.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 20)  
“Thy breach is great like the sea] Thou hast a *flood of afflictions, - a sea of troubles, - an ocean of miseries.” (Adam Clarke, 1831, pp. IV 151-152)  

-14. Your prophets envisioned to you worthlessness [שוא, ShahVe’] and failure [ותפל, VeThahPhayL],
and did not reveal upon your iniquity to restore your captivity,
and envisioned to you burdens worthless and seductions [ומדוחים, OoMahDOoHeeYM].  

“The verb חזו [HahZOo], have seen, is better rendered ‘have divined’… since the root means ‘to see ecstatically.’ False and deceptive visions: Lit., ‘emptiness and whitewash’; hence, ‘stuff and nonsense’… the reference being to the false or professional prophets who did not do their duty by the people but misled them cf. Isa. 3:12…), and so brought them into their misfortune… The word מדוחים [MahDOoHeeYM], found only here, is an abstract plural noun, best translated into English by an adjective, misleading.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 20)  

-15. They spank [ספקו, ÇahPhQOo] upon you palms, all passers-by [the] way,
they shriek [שרקו, ShahRQOo] and wag [וינעו, VeYahN`Oo] their head upon Daughter Jerusalem:
“Is that the city that they said,
‘Perfection of [כלילת, KLeeYLahTh] beauty, gladness [משוש, MahSOSh] to all the land!?’”  

“The verb ספקו [ÇahPhQOo] is a perfect of experience, ‘they clap,’ i.e., in malicious delight and mockery (cf. Job 27:23…). The word שיאמרו [ShehYo‘MROo] has the relative particle ש [Sh], in place of the more usual אשר [‘ahShehR], plus an imperfect of customary action, indefinite third person plural; hence, ‘which they used to call.’ The line is a tristich, in 2+3+3, but the last stich may be a marginal gloss from Ps. 48:2 (Hebrew 48:3), or it may be a variant reading, thus giving us a conflate text.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 20)  

-16. They burst upon you their mouth,
all your enemies shriek and gnash [ויחרקו, VeYahHahRQOo] tooth;
they said:
“We swallowed [her] up,
surely [אך, ’ahKh] this is the day, that we anticipated it;
we have found it, seen it!”  

“Five MSS [manuscripts], Lucian, the Syriac, and Arabic have this verse after vs. 17, thus putting the ע [`] and פ [P] stanzas in regular order. Rail against you: Lit., ‘open their mouth against you,’ with this verb and the following three in the perfect of experience.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 21)  

-17. Did, YHVH, that [which] they had plotted,
accomplished [בצע, BeeTsah`] his saying that he commanded from days previous,
he threw down [הרס, HahRahÇ] and did not pity.
And was happy upon you, [the] enemy,
raised horn, your distressor.  

“The clause אשר צוה [‘ahShehR TseeVaH] is in the accusative of specification, lit., ‘in the matter of that which he ordained’; hence,as he ordained…” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 21)  

-18. Shouted, their heart, unto my Lords, wall of Daughter TseeYON,
descended like a river her tear day and night.
Do not give respite [פוגת, PhOoGahTh] to yourself,
do not be dumb [תדם, TheeDoM], daughter [of] your eyes.  

“The first line as it stands makes no sense… it is very difficult to explain how such a simple text became so corrupt. The word יומם [YOMahM], ‘by day,’ is one of the few adverbs in Hebrew. The word פוגת [PhOoGahTh], respite or rest, found only here, is not construct, but a noun with the old feminine in tāw. Your eyes: Lit., ‘the daughter of your eye,’ i.e., the pupil of the eye according to Ps. 17:8, or perhaps the product of the eye, i.e., tears, as in Arabic (see Edward Robertson, ‘The Apple of the Eye in the Masoretic Text’…). The RSV [Revised Standard Version] makes the verb imperative, but it is in the jussive [a form of a verb expressing an indirect command], as in the KJV [King James Version].” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 21)  

-19. Arise, chant in night to [the] head [of] guards [אשמרות, ‘ahShMooROTh],
pour out [שפכי, SheePhKheeY] like waters your heart in the presence of [נכח, NoKhahH] [the] face of my Lords,
lift [שאי, Se’eeY] unto him your palms upon [the] soul [of] your toddlers,
the fainting in hunger in [the] head [of] every courtyard.  

“The words לראש אשמרות [LeRo‘Sh ‘ahShMooROTh], with distributive ל [L] and not point of time… mean ‘as the watches begin,’ i.e., continually through the night, which was divided by the Hebrews into three watches (cf. Judg. [Judges] 7:19). Since this stanza, like 1:7, has four lines, most scholars delete the last line as a gloss based on vs. 12 and 4:1, 4, but it is probable that the M,T. represents a conflate text, with the second line a variant of the first…” (Meek, 1956, pp. VI 21-22)  

-20. See, YHVH, and look to whom you have done [עוללת, `OLahLThah] thus [כה, KoH],
if consume, women, their fruit, toddlers nursing [טפחים, TeePooHeeYM],
if are killed in [the] Sanctuary [of] my Lords, priest and prophet.  

“This verse and the following two are put in the mouth of the city as the response to the poet’s appeal in vs, 19. The two clauses beginning with אם [‘eeM] are explanatory of כה [KoH], thus, with the alternative use of אם in an interrogative sentence. This verse indicates that Jerusalem was actually reduced to cannibalism in the siege of 586 (cf. 4:10; Jer. 19:9).” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 22)  

-21. Laid to land, courtyards, youth and elderly,
my virgins and my first-born felled by sword.
You killed in a day [of] your fury,
You slaughtered; you did not pity.  

“The word חוצות [HOoTsOTh] in the M.T. must be in the adverbial accusative, in the streets.” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 22)  

-22. Call out as a day [of] assembly,
my dread [מגורי, MeeGOoRah-eeY] from around.
And there was not, in [the] day [of the] fury [of] YHVH, refugee and remnant
that I had nursed and multiplied;
my enemy finished them.  

“The verb תקרא [TheeQRaH] is imperfect and may be interpreted as frequentative, ‘Thou didst keep inviting,’ or as an archaism preserving the early preterit, which disappeared from Hebrew prose in the course of time, but survives sporadically in poetry, Thou didst invite… It is used here because it has the initial ת [Th] required by the acrostic scheme. The word מגורי [MeeGOoRah-eeY] may be derived from גור, ‘to sojourn’ (so LXX), but comparison with the expression, ‘terror all around,’ in Jer. 6:25, et al., indicates that it is better derived from גור, ‘to fear,’ with the subjective suffix (so Syriac and Vulg.), ‘those whom I fear,’ i.e. ‘my enemies,’…” (Meek, 1956, p. VI 22)  
“The day of God’s wrath is like a victory banquet, but Israel is the slaughtered food (Isa 34). There is no prayer against enemies here (as in 1:21-22; 3:60-66; 4:21-22), for Yahweh is the enemy (v 5).” (Guinan, 1990, p. 561)  

Footnotes  
¹ According to the earlier grammarians, כְּ‍‎ is sometimes used pleonastically, i.e. not to indicate a similarity (… i.e. something like), but simply to introduce the predicate (Kaph veritatis), e.g. Neh [Nehemiah] 7 for he was כְּאִישׁ אֱמֶת‎ [Ke‘eeYSh ‘ehMehTh] a faithful man… Such a pleonasm is of course out of the question. At the most a Kaph veritatis can only be admitted in the sense that the comparison is sometimes introduced by כְּ‍‎ with a certain emphasis (equivalent to in every respect like); thus כְּאִישׁ אֱמֶת‎ in Neh 7 means simply of the nature of a faithful man, i.e. as only a faithful man can be…
https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Page:Gesenius%27_Hebrew_Grammar_(1910_Kautzsch-Cowley_edition).djvu/400  
² Paronomasia "pun," 1570s, from Latin, from Greek paronomasia "play upon words which sound similarly,"

• dictionary.reference.com  

³ Niphal is the name given to one of the seven major verb stems in biblical Hebrew. The designation Niphal comes from the form niph‘al for the verb pa‘al, “to do”. The nun (נ) prefix is characteristic of the QTL (perfect) conjugation, as well as of the participle. In the YQTL (imperfect) conjugation, the nun is (where possible) assimilated into the first root consonant and appears as a dagesh forte. In the imperative and infinitive construct, the prefix is a he (ה) instead of a nun. …
The Niphal stem usually denotes the passive or the reflexive voice. - Wikipedia  
⁴ Qal - In Hebrew grammar, the qal is the simple paradigm of the verb.
The Classical Hebrew verb conjugates according to person and number in two finite tenses, the perfect and the imperfect. Both of these can then be modified by means of prefixes and suffixes to create other "actions" of the verb. This is not exactly parallel to any categories of grammatical voice or mood in the Indo-European languages, but can produce similar results. So the niphal is effectively a passive, the piel is an emphatic form and the hithpael has a middle or reflexive force. The qal is any form of the finite verb paradigm which is not so modified. – Wikipedia
⁵ When accessing information about verbs throughout our Old Testament concordances, you'll find numerous references to Hebrew verb tenses such as Qal or Hiphil. The following list identifies each; verb tense and its part in speech via a comparative example in English using the verb "to kill."  
Simple  
Qal (active) - he killed
Niphal (passive) - he was killed  
Intensive - giving force or emphasis; emphasizing [very in the very same man is an intensive adverb]  
Piel (active) - he killed indeed! / he slaughtered
Pual (passive) - he was killed indeed! / he was slaughtered
Hithpael (reflexive) - he killed himself  
Causative - expressing causation, as certain verbs [fell is a causative verb meaning to cause to fall]  
Hiphil (active) - he caused to kill
Hophal (passive) - he was caused to kill - https://www.blueletterbible.org   An Amateur's Journey Through the Bible

This is a story from the collectible card game Magic: The Gathering; a story of honor, responsibility, and a priceless piece of cardstock.  
 
If you aren’t knowledgeable on the rules of the wizard poker known as MtG, don’t fret; this drama isn’t about actually playing the game. But there are a couple things you need to understand to properly munch on this juicy happening.
~ Magic cards are sold in randomized packs, usually running $4-$10 a pop.
~ In addition to the regular way of playing Magic in which you rock up to the card shop with your own personal, hand-constructed, totally not copied from the internet deck of cards, there is a second way of playing called “drafting.” A group of 8 players sit down at a table each with 3 packs of cards and systematically open and pass around these packs, each time taking one card and then passing the rest of the pack on to the next player. Once this has been done with all of the packs, everyone then takes the best of the cards they picked and form decks on the spot to then battle it out.
~ Magic cards are traded around in a second-hand market, and can vary wildly in their value. Cards can be anywhere from worthless to upwards of $50 when they are available in packs, and some cards have only continued to rise in value over time. There are scores of boring, common cards that nobody wants, doomed to rot in bins of undesired bulk for the rest of their days. But there are also plenty of cards of higher rarity that are powerful, unique, or otherwise desirable, and these are what players crack open oodles of card packs to try and get.
~ Speaking of value, every pack of Magic cards has a chance to have a premium foil version of a card in it. If you think your Elf Buccaneer would be more menacing with a layer of shiny on the card’s art, a foil would be what you want. Given what has already been said about high value cards, foil versions of rare cards are sought after by the most wealthy and splendor-driven wizards.
~ Every couple years, the company that produces Magic, Wizards of the Coast, releases what are essentially “Greatest Hits” packs. These sets try to strike a balance of reprinting the high-demand cards every Magic-player wants to get their hands on and creating a new, interesting set of cards to draft. So not every card in the set is a banger, but your chances of getting something desirable is high (in that way, perhaps a better analogy is “Now That’s What I Call Wizard Poker”).     The scene: Las Vegas, 2015.
It’s the Grand Prix Vegas pro tournament. Hundreds of Magic players descended upon Sin City to sling spells, summon creatures, and vie for one of the largest prize pools ever seen in a Magic tournament.
Not only that, this high-profile tournament coincided with the release of the latest pack of cards, one of those “Greatest Hits” sets called Modern Masters 2015. This set’s headliner reprint was a creature called Tarmogoyf, a powerful creature that was heavily played in all sorts of competitive Magic decks. First printed in a set from 2007, a single copy of Tarmogoyf (which a serious player would want at least 3 or 4 copies of) at the time fetched a cool $150 to $200. This set was selling like hotcakes at the tournament, but the real kicker was that the final leg of the tournament, after the competitors had been whittled down to the Top 8, would be a draft of the Modern Masters 2015 set.     There’s one key element to all of this, the root of the entire incident: the cards used in these pro player drafts are actually taken out of their packs before the event and given a special stamp unique to the event. This is done to make sure nobody tries to cheat by sneaking in cards from outside of the event into their draft. However, a byproduct of this fact is that the cards in these pro drafts are cosmetically unique. They still function the same, of course. But after the tournament these cards can become desirable for Magic collectors who want to bling out their decks. (Yea, your buddy Caleb the Pyromancer might have some shiny Lightning Kablasts, but do Caleb’s creatures have a small blue-ink doodle on them?)     The Top 8 of the tournament sit down to begin the final draft of the tournament. They are all seasoned Magic pros, with varying amounts of experience and popularity.
One of these 8 pro players is our guy. His name is easy to find, and will likely remain a part of Magic history forevermore, but I’m going to call him Reynard, after the sly fox of old French folklore. So far, the draft is going great for Reynard. His cards are coming together nicely, and securing a win here would qualify him for an entrance into the year’s Magic World Championship. Reynard opens his final pack, and that is when the incident occurs. The rare card in his pack is a Tarmogoyf. But not just a Tarmogoyf, a foil one. The gravity of this sinks in immediately for Reynard. This card is quite literally one-of-a-kind. A foil Tarmogoyf with a pro draft stamp. The chances of this happening again are next to none.     This is when things get… wonky, to say the least. You see, there’s a stigma against “rare-drafting” during a Magic draft, that is, taking a high-value card solely to sell it afterwards. And to be fair, this is a pro tournament. Would it be unprofessional to take the suboptimal card purely for its monetary value? This is absolutely a matter of opinion, but as you will see these opinions are… strong within the Magic community.
He scans the rest of the cards in the pack, hoping for there to be nothing that could be used in his deck, meaning he’d be justified in taking the Tarmogoyf. No dice. One of the cards is a Burst Lightning, which would be an excellent choice for his aggressive draft deck.     Reynard pauses to think...
Oh yeah, did I mention that this entire draft is being live-streamed for Magic players across the world to watch?
He takes a minute of intense thought, then makes his decision. Reynard would later say that his decision boiled down to “I can still win the tournament without that Burst Lightning, let’s get the cake AND eat it.” He holds up the Burst Lightning to the camera, as if to say “I know exactly what I am doing here.” He calmly shuffles it back into the pack and takes out the Tarmogoyf, placing it directly into his pile of cards.
And everyone watching loses their minds.
If your brain read that $100 piece of paper thing and is still hitting itself in confusion, well you aren’t the only one. The price of those cards that reside in the upper echelons of playability has and will always be a point of contention for Magic players. Whether Magic cards are by and large too expensive or just right or are secretly gambling or have to much randomness has been a "conversation" in the Magic community since the game's inception. This incident became a dog-pile opportunity for the split opinions in the Magic community on regards to exactly how we should feel about expensive pieces of paper.
Other pro players generally saw this as a pretty lousy thing to do. As a professional spell-slinging wizard, one should strive to play to the best of their ability and take the greatest chances at victory. And one could say that intentionally gimping one’s deck for monetary gain is practice that a professional wizard shouldn’t lower themselves to. Some used the situation to critique the fact that Reynard was put into the situation in the first place, that Wizards of the Coast should better support the pros monetarily to make rare-drafting unnecessary.
https://twitter.com/InsayneHayne/status/605466375939723264
https://twitter.com/TheManaSource/status/605513236453146624
Some other pros were… less than cordial
The whole debacle trended under the name #GoyfGate on Twitter. I am not referring to it by that name because, well, no thank you.
The common folk, the frequenters of MagicTCG and the like, were generally understanding of the Tarmogoyf pick. Well aware of the potential value of the card, it seemed completely understandable to take the guaranteed payout rather than slightly increase his chances of winning the tournament. Some fans of the various pro players who took the hardline stance parroted the talking points of “respect for the game” and “unspoken pro etiquette” and all.
As quickly as a Burst Lightning, the community put down their wands and staffs and various synonyms for the word “destroy” to resort to good ole’ fashioned verbal fisticuffs.     There’s a happy ending to this story. Reynard failed to win the tournament, but as the gentleman thief having stolen the hearts of the Magic community, he announced that he will put the card up for auction on Ebay and donate half of the earnings to charity. Given the notorious nature of the card, this auction would end up going for over $16,000. (EDIT: minor correction, the card actually sold for $14,990)