“Strange Fire” Indeed (Lev 10:1–11): Psychotropic Substances in the Religions of Israel and Judah in the Iron Age II in Light of Incense Traditions in the Hebrew Bible and Recent Archaeological Discoveries

Abstract

The cultic violation of the “strange fire” offered to Yahweh by Nadab and Abihu in Leviticus 10:1–11 has long puzzled commentators. Similarly perplexing has been the apparently related prohibition of imbibing intoxicating liquids (v. 8) prescribed for all officiating priests following the debacle. This paper considers the episode in the broader context of the use of mind-altering substances in religious practices of the ancient Near East attested to in texts, iconography, and archaeology, and includes specific interaction with the recent discovery of cannabis at the Judahite temple of Arad, as well as potential material paraphernalia from other Late Bronze and Iron Age sites. These archaeological finds provide a backdrop for a discussion of competing incense traditions preserved in the priestly texts and support the proposition that the story may be understood as polemic against the use of mind-altering substances propagated by at least one state-sponsored priestly group, in contrast to common religious practices of those around them and perhaps rival factions within them.

“The more outré and grotesque an incident is the more carefully it deserves to be examined, and the very point which appears to complicate a case is, when duly considered and scientifically handled, the one which is most likely to elucidate it.”

-Sherlock Holmes to Watson in The Hound of the Baskervilles (Doyle [1902] 1999, p. 164)

1. Introduction

Academic interest in mind-altering substances has surged in recent years. In what some have described as a psychedelic renaissance, due in part to relaxed federal restrictions, changes in public perception, and new developments in neuroscience, researchers have explored psychological, medicinal, and therapeutic applications of psychotropic substances at an ever-increasing rate at major research institutions and in other venues (Pollan 2018). Many operating within this wave of renewed interest aim to emphasize the scientific aspects of their research and distance themselves from the overtly “religious” emphasis of the psychedelic revolution of the 1950s and 60s (Laderman 2025, p. 110) popularized in the works of Huxley (1954), Timothy Leary (Leary et al. 1964), and others, as well as from controversial works, such as John Allegro’s The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross (Allegro 1970; and now cf. Muraresku 2020; see Ascough 2025). Yet, current interest in the interplay between psychoactive substances and religion remains strong due to the important role such compounds play in contemporary religious expressions across the globe, including the sacramental use of peyote in the Native American Church (NAC), ganja among the Rastafarians, and the symbolic use of wine in various Christian and Jewish traditions, among many others (Shepard 2009).1

Historically, the human story is entangled with mind-altering substances (Samorini 2019), some suggesting that the drive for intoxication may be a basic biological impulse (Siegal 1989; Samorini 2000) and others arguing that interest in psychoactive products, including alcohol, may have played a role in the Neolithic transition (e.g., Sherratt 1991; Wadley and Hayden 2015; Hrnčíř et al. 2025), the development of our earliest complex societies (e.g., Joffe 1998), and social change in the Iron Age (e.g., Dietler 1990), among other technological, social, and cultural movements across the millennia. The close connection between mind-altering substances and religion, too, has a long history, not only with regard to alcohol (Milano 1994; Poo 1995; McGovern et al. 1996; J. S. Greer 2020; Welton 2024), but also with other hallucinogenic substances (Hofmann et al. 2001), some suggesting that they provided the catalyst for religious consciousness (Froese et al. 2016; cf. McKenna 1993). In support of such a notion, some draw on evidence from artistic representations, from cave art suggesting altered states of consciousness (Lewis-Williams 1986; Robinson et al. 2020) to Aegean frescoes (Sagona and Sagona 2011; Foster 2022, 2023). Others draw on evidence from ancient textual traditions, such as descriptions of elements employed in religious rituals, including the soma of the Vedas and the kykeon of the Eleusinian mysteries (Wasson 1968; Wasson et al. 1978; Muraresku 2020). Further, the introduction of improved methods of chemical analysis applied to archaeological materials has now verified the employment of entheogens in a variety of ancient contexts around the globe (Merlin 2003; Foster 2023; Guerra-Doce 2015a, 2015b, 2022; Guerra-Doce et al. 2023; Jiang et al. 2006, 2016; Ren et al. 2019).

While interest in the relationship between drugs and religion has moved from the fringe to become a major topic of study in the field of religious studies, this is less so the case in the field of biblical studies, due in part to the lingering stigma of the topic but also due to the dearth of material evidence in contexts associated with ancient Israel. Yet the situation has radically changed with the discovery of traces of cannabis residue on an incense altar from an Iron Age II ancient Israelite temple at Tel Arad, recently published by Eran Arie, Baruch Rosen, and Dvory Namdar (Arie et al. 2020). This evidence, considered in the wider context of the employment of psychotropic substances in the religions around ancient Israel, prompts new looks at familiar stories in the Hebrew Bible that have long puzzled commentators and raised suspicions about the incorporation of drugs in early Israelite religion. In this case, I consider the story of Nadab and Abihu’s “strange fire” in Leviticus 10, which has been aptly described as “a punishment in search of a crime” (Greenstein 1989, p. 56), in this light, and invite a reconsideration of incense traditions in the Hebrew Bible and their incorporation in popular and state forms of religious expression in ancient Israel. In this effort, I aim, like Holmes, to elucidate the age-old mystery of “the case of the strange fire.”

2. The Discovery of Cannabis on the Altar in the Judahite Temple at Tel Arad

The archaeological site of Tel Arad sits at a strategic location as the terminus for the important north-south ridge route through ancient Israel and Judah at the junction of the major east-west route through the Negev that connects the Aravah with the Mediterranean Sea and has evidence of major occupation already in the Early Bronze Age (Amiran et al. 1978; Amiran and Ilan 1996). Excavations of the Iron Age fort on the acropolis relevant to this discussion were undertaken by Yohanan Aharoni in the mid 1960s, resulting in a number of preliminary reports by the excavator and other members of the excavation team (Aharoni 1964, 1965, 1967a, 1967b, 1968; Aharoni and Amiran 1964; Herzog et al. 1984; Herzog 2001, 2002, 2010; Singer-Avitz 2002), though no final report has been published. In this gap, many others have undertaken studies related to the site and debated certain aspects of earlier interpretations (Ussishkin 1988; Rainey 1994; Na’aman 1999; Zevit 2001, pp. 156−71, among others).

Excavations revealed a well-stratified site with abundant remains, including a cache of Hebrew ostraca (Aharoni 1981) and a small temple (or “shrine”; so Arie et al. 2020, p. 5, n. 1) embedded in a square, well-fortified enclosure identified as a border fortress of the kingdom of Judah during the Iron Age II from the 9th through 6th centuries BCE (Herzog 2002, 2010; Singer-Avitz 2002). The temple layout bears some similarities to other Levantine types of the first millennium BCE, oriented east to west, and consisting of an enclosed courtyard (the northern section of which is partitioned in Stratum X and IX) with a large altar in its center, a rectangular hall lined with benches west of the courtyard, and an elevated central niche identified as a debir, or “Holy of Holies,” built into the back wall of the hall (Herzog et al. 1984, pp. 6–22; 2002, pp. 32, 57–58, 63–64). The excavators originally highlighted architectural similarities with the descriptions of the temple in Jerusalem in the Hebrew Bible in terms of orientation and space (Aharoni 1968, pp. 21–26, but contrast Herzog 2002, pp. 67–68), the proportions of the courtyard altar (Herzog et al. 1984, p. 11; Zevit 2001, pp. 169–70; but see Herzog 2002, pp. 53–56), and many cultic finds. These included an installation interpreted as a basin (Herzog 2002, pp. 60–61), two limestone altars lying on the steps of the debir, and a fallen stone slab with red paint interpreted as a maṣṣebah within the debir (Herzog 2002, pp. 63–64; Bloch-Smith 2015, p. 112; Lewis 2020, pp. 183–87), as well as numerous bones associated with sacrificial feasting found throughout the courtyard (Herzog 2002, pp. 57, 62), fragments of so-called Judahite Pillar figurines (Kletter 1996, pp. 211–12; Bloch-Smith 2015, p. 102), and bowls on a step before the courtyard altar inscribed with a qof and likely a kap thought to indicate an abbreviation of קדש כהנם (“holy [object] of the priests”; Herzog et al. 1984, pp. 12, 15, 32, with Zevit 2001, p. 161; but see Herzog 2002, p. 58).

The limestone altars, found intentionally decommissioned and covered over on the steps of the debir, were of the same type (cf. Gitin 1989), a freestanding cuboid block-type characterized by a deep inset groove marking out the top and a small depression in the center of its top surface, but of two sizes, one larger (IAA 1967−981; 52 cm high; 29.7 × 29.7 cm top face) and one smaller (IAA 1967−980; 40 cm high; 20 × 21 cm top face). In the center of the top faces of each altar, organic residue was preserved and remained intact since excavation, even as the altars were on display in the Israel Museum.

In the context of the museum renovation that prompted Arie, Rosen, and Namdar’s study, the researchers reexamined the residue and subjected the organic samples to gas chromatography with mass spectrometry (GC−MS) analysis (Arie et al. 2020). The results show residues of cannabinoids, including THC, CBD, and CBN, on the smaller altar, suggesting to the researchers that the resin of flowering heads of Cannabis sativa had been burned upon it. On the larger altar, the researchers detected residues of chemicals that derive from frankincense (Boswellia) resin. In both compounds, they also identified animal products that would have enhanced the delivery of these substances, specific to each compound: animal dung with the cannabis, a low-heat combustible significant enough to ignite cannabis, and animal fat with the frankincense, which required a higher heat. The researchers concluded that both compounds were imported over long distances and also suggested that the cannabis in the compound on the small altar was included specifically for its psychoactive effects.

3. Mind-Altering Substances in the Religions of the Ancient Near East

The discovery of cannabis on one of the incense altars in the Arad temple is part of a larger cultural context of the Late Bronze and Iron Ages in which mind-altering substances were often associated with religious experience, especially in mortuary and temple contexts, and also with therapeutic purposes. Cannabis itself is likely mentioned in early Egyptian, as well as in later Neo-Assyrian, medical texts (Ilan 2022, pp. 180–81) and in at least some ritual texts (e.g., SAA 13 076/ABL 0368; see also Stein 2009), though assigning botanical species to ancient terms is not without its problems (so Ilan 2022, p. 181, following Fales 2012; Farber 1981). Indeed, the findings at Arad are the only known archaeological verification of the presence of cannabis in the region, even though paleobotanical research has demonstrated the cultivation of cannabis in other regions of the Mediterranean Basin as early as the Chalcolithic period (McPartland and William 2018).2

There is, however, abundant evidence for the early domestication, consumption, and distribution of various forms of opium derivatives throughout the ancient Near East (Behn 1986; Collard 2016; Koh et al. 2025). Substances identified as opium have been suggested in Egyptian, Mesopotamian, and Hittite texts, though, again, assigning specific correlations between ancient lexical terms and botanical species is notoriously difficult, as mentioned above. Depictions of opium poppies, too, have been noted in artistic representations across the region (Guerra-Doce 2015b; Collard 2016; Foster 2023). Apparently religious portrayals include a scene of worshipers entranced in a field of poppies on a gold signet ring from Mycenae (Stein 2022) as well as the so-called “Poppy Goddess” figurines from the Minoan shrine at Gazi that have been suggested to depict an entranced state (Merrillees 1999, p. 30) and connection has been drawn between the crowns of these figurines decorated by poppies and kernos rings that may have been used for imbibing and/or inhaling opium products (Ilan 2022).

Archaeological evidence for the widespread distribution of opium as part of Late Bronze Age trade networks is drawn from the ubiquitous presence of Cypriot Base-ring I vessels, or bilbil vessels, across the region, vessels that were suggested to contain opium based on the notable resemblance of the vessel form to the morphology of an inverted opium poppy head (Merrillees 1962, 1979, 1989, 1999). While this theory has been challenged (Chovanec et al. 2015; Bunimovitz and Lederman 2016), recent residue analysis of sealed bilbil vessels in controlled contexts has confirmed the presence of opium (Smith et al. 2018; Linares et al. 2022).

Other reported archaeological finds demonstrating the presence of psychoactive substances in mortuary and cultic contexts include the identification of a lamp with morphine-derived residue in a Middle–Late Bronze Age tomb at Megiddo (Cradic 2017, p. 216) and large quantities of Viper’s Bugloss, a powerful hallucinogenic substance, in the Late Bronze temple courtyard at Kamid el-Loz (Stein 2017, pp. 511–12), as well as potentially hallucinogenic botanicals associated with cultic vessels in the Iron Age Philistine temple favissa at Yavneh (Namdar et al. 2010; Namdar et al. 2015), among others.

4. The Story of Nadab and Abihu and Their “Strange Fire” in Context

Turning to the story of Nadab and Abihu in the Hebrew Bible (Lev 10), an episode that has long troubled commentators on many fronts, we may find that this cultural backdrop of the use of psychoactive substances in ancient religion illuminates the most perplexing aspect of the story: the identification of the “strange fire.” In the narrative of the Hebrew Bible, the incident follows extensive prescriptive (Lev 8) and descriptive (Lev 9) accounts of the ordination of Aaron and his sons and is set within the tabernacle. It begins with Nadab and Abihu placing incense on the coals in their fire pans and offering “strange fire” (אש זרה) before Yahweh, contrary to his command. Without warning, fire comes out from Yahweh’s presence and consumes both Nadab and Abihu. After the bodies are carried outside the camp by Levitical kin, Moses commands Aaron and his remaining sons, Eleazar and Ithamar, not to mourn and to stay inside the tabernacle. Specific instructions follow, some connected to the immediate context concerning food portions to be eaten in the holy place and others as perpetual ordinances for priests, including a prohibition of drinking wine or beer (on שכר as beer, see Milgrom 1991, p. 612; Homan 2004) in service of the shrine. The story concludes with a dispute between Moses and Aaron over the associated rituals concerning the goat of the sin offering, itself a perplexing sub-story.

In contrast to similar stories concerning illicit incense-offerings that transparently address issues of priestly authority (i.e., the stories of the sons of Korah in Num 16 and of Uzziah in 2 Chron 26:16–20), the text of Lev 10 provides no explicit explanation for the violation that led to the death of Nadad and Abihu, thus prompting a wide range of proposals and even suggestions that the text is intentionally ambiguous (Greenstein 1989; Andersen 2015; J. W. Watts 2007, p. 117). The vague nature of the crime has led some to suggest that priestly rivalries, in general, stand as the historical backdrop for the story without specifying a particular violation (Cross 1973, pp. 204–5; Noth 1977, p. 84; Heger 1997, pp. 57–71). Others focus primarily on the literary aspects of the story, viewing it as a cautionary tale within the narrative arc of P concerning ritual prescriptions, priestly authority, or the extent of innovation (e.g., Nihan 2007, p. 582; J. W. Watts 2013, pp. 527–28; Rhyder 2019, pp. 142–43; cf. Feder 2021; Peres 2021; MacDonald 2022, 2023, pp. 214–39; Feldman 2020, pp. 104–7; Feldman 2022).

A number of exegetes center their inquiries specifically on the “fire” and find evidence for the influence of religious practices from Emar (Hess 2002) or Achaemenid Persia (Kislev 2024, pp. 234–37)3 on the story. Others are more specific in identifying the “fire” as the coals and note the detail that Nadab and Abihu set their “fire,” i.e., their coals,4 on their firepans prior to approaching Yahweh and, thus, infer that the coals were “strange” (i.e., unauthorized) or taken from somewhere other than from the altar in the precinct, rendering the whole offering unholy (e.g., Haran 1985, p. 232; Milgrom 1991, p. 598; cf. Laughlin 1976, pp. 560–61).

At first glance, this focus on the “fire” as the source for the offense seems to be logical; indeed, the second part of v. 1 concludes ויקרבו לפני יהוה אש זרה אשר לא צוה אתם (“they offered before Yahweh strange fire, which he had not commanded them”), explicitly identifying the “fire” as “strange” and clearly stating that it was not commanded by Yahweh. Yet a closer look creates problems for this conclusion in two respects. First, and most significantly, “fire” (אש) is not typically offered to Yahweh elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, but rather it is incense placed on coals that is offered.5 Second, the ritual sequence does not initially identify the “fire” as strange—each took his firepan and, “they put fire on it [pl.], and laid incense on it” (ויתנו בהן אש וישימו עליה קטרת)—the “fire” only becomes “strange fire” after the application of the incense (see Greenstein 1989, p. 58; Levine 1989, pp. 58–59; Nihan 2007, pp. 579–82). Some exegetes have asked: if the scribes meant to identify the fire as strange, why was this not made explicit by stating that they took their pans and put strange fire in them and then added the incense (so Heger 1997, pp. 80–81)? To say it another way, the sequence of ritual actions culminates in the offering of “strange fire”—they “took” (ויקחו) their pans, they “put” (ויתנו) coals in them, and they “set” (וישימו) incense on the coals in them, and then they offered (ויקרבו) the combined result of these actions: the “strange fire” (אש זרה). While it is possible that the coals (or “fire”) were (was) the problem (so Haran 1985, p. 232; Milgrom 1991, p. 598)—or the pan for that matter—given that the typical offering is incense rather than coals (or “fire”) and coals are used for prescribed and prohibited incense concoctions (see below), it would seem that problem lies with the incense.

Further, the use of זרה here in the context of the previous description of the incense offering suggests an association between the “strange fire” (אש זרה) of Lev 10:1 and the “strange incense” (קטרת זרה) of Exod 30:9 (so Propp 2006, p. 475; Levine 1989, pp. 58–59), one of the substances not to be burned on the tabernacle’s altar of incense.6 In both cases, offerings of incense are concerned, and in both cases the offerings—coals plus incense in Lev 10:1 identified as “strange fire” and the “strange incense” that is not to be added to the fire of the incense altar in Exod 30:9—are “strange” (זרה). Against this proposal, it may be argued that the contexts of Lev 10 and Exod 30 differ in that the incense of Nadab and Abihu was laid on their pans and not on an altar as in Exod 30, but in both cases, the incense would have been applied to coals, whether those coals were on a pan or an altar. Further support for understanding the “strange fire” as a result of the application of “strange incense” to the coals may be drawn from Lev 16, explicitly framed as a corrective to the violation of Nadab and Abihu (Lev 16:1–2). Here, in vv. 12–13, the same sequence is specified—Aaron is to take a “firepan” (מחתה) full of “coals” (גחלי–אש), enter behind the curtain, and add “incense” (קטרת) to the “coals” (אש)—but the incense is not generic here and is specifically identified as “spiced incense” (קטרת סמים), the “standard” incense that is juxtaposed with the prohibited “strange incense” (קטרת זרה) in Exod 30, a point that will become more significant in the discussion below. If, then, the problem was with the incense, what sort of “strange” concoction might elicit such a harsh response from the deity?

Moses’s words to Aaron that immediately follow concerning holiness might give some indication—“This is what Yahweh meant when he said, ‘Among those who are near me I will show myself holy, and before all the people I will be glorified’” (Lev 10:3)—but any violation would compromise holiness so there is not much that can be deduced from this text about the nature of the violation other than that it was a breach of holiness. The perpetual command, “Do not to drink wine or beer [יין ושכר], neither you nor your sons with you, when you enter the tent of meeting, so that you will not die” (v. 9),7 following the removal of bodies and the immediate instructions to remain in the precinct, however, may prove more instructive, even if a later addition (Milgrom 1991, p. 611; on the unity of the chapter, see Nihan 2007, pp. 576–79; MacDonald 2022).

A number of features, in fact, suggest a strong connection between this prohibition and the violation, such as the explicit mention of the punishment of death (v. 9) and the textual echo of holiness mentioned in v. 3 by commanding a distinction between “the holy” (הקדש) and “the common” (החל) in v. 10. The enduring nature of the prohibition as a “statute forever, throughout your generations” (חקת עולם לדרתיכם; v. 9), emphasized in the direct speech of Yahweh to Aaron (v. 8), and the command to teach “all these statutes” in v. 11, also suggest a direct response to the transgression. Indeed, on the strength of these connections, many commentators throughout the ages have concluded that the violation of Nadab and Abihu was that they attempted to fulfill their priestly duties while drunk (e.g., see Wolak 2013 and references there).

The obvious problem with the proposal that Nadab and Abihu were drunk on wine or beer while performing their priestly duties is that there is no mention that they imbibe alcoholic beverages anywhere in the text.8 In fact, the only potentially intoxicating substance that is mentioned would be the smoke from the incense, thus opening the possibility that the prohibition refers more generally to a chemically induced altered state and that the incense envisioned in the story was thought to contain psychotropic substances (cf., Dannaway 2010; J. S. Greer 2021; Bennett 2023, p. 133; Keiter 2024). Beyond the support of, first, the intertextual resonance of the offering of the “strange fire” and the prohibition and, second, the immediate context—i.e., that the incense is the only potentially intoxicating substance mentioned—we may also observe that the phrase יין ושכר (“wine or beer”) likely functions as a merism for all alcoholic beverages (Nihan 2007, p. 591; Peres 2021) that could perhaps be extended to include the inhalation or ingestion in liquid or solid form of any psychoactive agents. Admittedly, the evidence from the text alone for such a claim is weak, but the possibility that the phrase might have been understood more broadly finds some late support in Targum Onkelos’s rendering of יין ושכר (“wine or beer”) as חמר ומרוי (“wine or other intoxicant”).9

5. “Strange Fire” from Arad to Leviticus

Thus far, I have aimed to construct two arguments, one based on the archaeological discoveries at Arad and one based on a close reading of Leviticus 10, and to connect them. Archaeologically, I have aimed to demonstrate that psychotropic substances were employed in ancient cultic contexts and, specifically, in ancient Israel, a claim that has already been made and is hard to doubt in light of the evidence from Arad (Arie et al. 2020). Exegetically, I have suggested that Nadab and Abihu’s “strange fire” in Lev 10:1 may be equated with the “strange incense” of Exod 30:9, as has already been suggested by others (e.g., Propp 2006, p. 475; Levine 1989, pp. 58–59), in spite of the fact that this is not explicitly mentioned and other exegetes arrive at other conclusions (e.g., Hess 2002; Kislev 2024, pp. 234–37). Beyond that I have aimed to connect these propositions by raising the intriguing, but by no means certain, possibility that this incense of Lev 10 envisioned by the scribes may have been understood to contain psychoactive agents, perhaps hinted at in the prohibition of intoxication that follows the incident, and I here suggest that the fact that one of the two incense compounds on the altars at Arad contained cannabis strengthens this proposal. Admittedly, such an idea is speculative, as are all of the others that have been put forth in the effort to explain the “strange fire” of Lev 10, but I argue that this proposal has the advantage of considering the text in light of the archaeological context of a Yahwistic worship site in ancient Israel at Arad.

From here, I aim to make further observations concerning the archaeological discoveries at Arad and incense traditions in the Hebrew Bible, in order to suggest a potential connection between the fact that there were two altars at Arad with two different incense compounds on them and the observation that there appear to be two different incense traditions described in the biblical texts.

6. Two Altars, Two Incense Compounds, and One Yahweh

When the discoveries from the temple at Arad were first published, it was reported that there were three stones discovered within the “Holy of Holies,” the large maṣṣebah and two smaller flint slabs (Aharoni 1967a, p. 248), and the reconstructed version of the shrine in the Israel Museum displayed the large maṣṣebah alongside one of the smaller flint stones until the renovation of the exhibit between 2007–2010 (Arie et al. 2020, p. 9). This portrayal of two standing stones in the debir prompted some to find support for the worship of two deities at the Arad Temple (cf. Zevit 2001, p. 310; Dever 2005, p. 175). Herzog’s preliminary report (Herzog 2002, p. 63), however, later clarified that only the large, smooth limestone slab bearing traces of red paint should be interpreted as a maṣṣebah, and that the small flint slab interpreted as a second maṣṣebah was, in fact, an architectural element of the back wall.10 The large maṣṣebah alone, then, plausibly represented a singular deity (cf. Lewis 2020, p. 194), probably Yahweh (Aharoni 1967a, p. 248),11 a suggestion strengthened by the mention in Arad Ostracon no. 18 of a “Temple (בת) of Yahweh,” likely a reference to the Arad temple itself, rather than to one in Jerusalem.12

In this case, as Arie et al. (2020, p. 22) conclude, the two incense altars at Arad would not have been for offering incense to two different deities, but for offering two different compounds—one of cannabis on a dung fuel bed and the other of frankincense on a fat fuel bed—to the same deity, a proposal they suggest may have implications for other contexts as well.13 This archaeological evidence for two incense compounds for the same deity may further resonate with the possibility that two incense traditions are described in the Hebrew Bible for the worship of Yahweh, as will be discussed below.

7. Incense Traditions in the Hebrew Bible and Regional Cults of Yahweh

Scholarship on the use of incense in the Israelite cult abounds (e.g., Wellhausen 1885, pp. 64–67, Haran 1960, 1985, pp. 230–45, Edelman 1985; Nielsen 1986; Heger 1997; Zwickel 1990; among others), and different theories have been formulated that aim to synthesize the disparate evidence across the corpora of the Hebrew Bible within a larger history of Israelite religion. While a full review of the scholarship on this topic is beyond the scope of this present work, suffice it to say that the Hebrew Bible, as a composite work compiled and edited over several hundred years, at least, preserves various perspectives on the incorporation of incense in the ancient Israelite cult. These differences are likely explained by differences in the way these texts are employed at the literary level and/or changes in practice over time and variation within each temporal horizon.

If we approach these differences from an historical perspective, we observe that throughout the history of ancient Israel, as understood from both texts and archaeology, periods of unification were the exception rather than the norm, and such a reality surely impacted the composition of texts that eventually came to comprise the Hebrew Bible. Whether during the time of the kingdoms of Israel and Judah in the Iron Age II or the time of the provinces of Samaria and Yehud in the Persian and early Hellenistic periods, some have suggested competition and cooperation, as well as negotiation and compromise, between groups of northern and southern scribes who shared an allegiance to Yahweh as their national God (cf. Cross 1973, pp. 195–215; Halpern 1976; Knoppers 1994, 2013; J. S. Greer 2024). In this context, then, the extant version of the Hebrew Bible contains not only Jerusalem-centered “southern” perspectives but also retains elements of northern perspectives, too (Fleming 2012; Finkelstein 2017, 2020; Houston 2014). In some cases, concerning ritual texts, two distinct traditions of cultic practice may be isolated and correlated with archaeological materials that resonate with either northern or southern affiliations, such as has been suggested for the allotment of priestly portions (J. S. Greer 2019). With this in mind, I here explore the possibility that there may be two main incense traditions that are preserved across the corpora of the Hebrew Bible, perhaps one more at home in the north and the other in the south, and then consider these findings in light of the discovery at Arad.

In the extant priestly corpus, there appears to be only one acceptable form of incense that is described in great detail in the recipe of Exod 30:34–35 where it is designated קטרת סמים (“spiced incense”), which is the קטרת תמיד (“regular incense”) offered before Yahweh every morning and evening by Aaron as the high priest (Exod 30:7–8; cf. Exod 40:27; 2 Chron 2:3).14 This קטרת סמים is described as a spice mixture containing three spices that is blended with an equal portion of pure לבנה, confidently identified as frankincense (Milgrom 1991, pp. 180–81; Nielsen 1986, pp. 60–61), and seasoned with salt (Cassuto 1967, pp. 399–402; Haran 1985, p. 242; Milgrom 1991, pp. 1025–28; Propp 2006, pp. 484–86). A “refined” (דקה) form of this compound— קטרת סמים דקה—is used on the Day of Atonement in the Holy of Holies (Lev 16:12; cf. Haran 1985, p. 243),15 but any other “strange incense” (קטרת זרה; Exod 30:9) is prohibited.

Comparatively, two different incense traditions may be known in the prophetic tradition: a frankincense-based incense, identified simply as לבנה, and a “sweet cane”-based incense, identified as קנה הטוב or as קנה בשם. While it seems reasonable to associate the לבנה of the prophetic tradition with theקטרת סמים (or a version thereof) of the priestly tradition based on the main ingredient of frankincense, the identification of the קנה בשם has proved more elusive, with at least one commentator proposing an association of the substance with cannabis (see Benet 1975, and also see Bennett 2023, especially pp. 31–67, 81–87, though this is not without problems; cf. Ilan 2022, p. 180). These two types appear in prophetic denouncements in both Isaiah 43:23–24 and Jeremiah 6:20 and are listed along with other sanctioned modes of worship, including the offering of sacrifices, perhaps implying that both incense traditions were known and practiced, thus, at least in some cases, viewed as acceptable. In this case, we might wonder if, from the perspective of the priestly scribes, the קנה בשם might be the “strange incense” (קטרת זרה) they denounce (Exod 30:9), but this is by no means certain.16

Regardless, it is clear that the Hebrew Bible contains different traditions concerning which incense(s) was (were) acceptable in certain contexts and at certain times. At one point in ancient Israel’s history, at least, one group of priestly scribes made the case for a standardized form—the קטרת סמים—and differentiated it from a “strange” form—the קטרת זרה—while, no doubt, debate among priestly groups continued. Though there is not enough data in the texts to identify these competing traditions with the specificity required to associate them with different regions (i.e., northern vs. southern), the discovery of two different incense compounds—one containing frankincense and the other containing cannabis—on the altars at Arad opens new possibilities for exploration.

8. Two Incense Utensils for Two Incense Compounds?

The idea of two incense traditions in the Hebrew Bible is strengthened by the recognition that among the tabernacle/temple “altar kits” (כלי המזבח) described across various corpora (J. S. Greer 2010, pp. 27–29; J. S. Greer 2013, pp. 106–8), there are seemingly two types of incense utensils mentioned: the מחתה, typically translated “incense pan” or “firepan,” and the כף, typically translated “censer.” Archaeologically, of the two types, only one has been confidently identified: the מחתה based on the discovery of one such utensil as part of a complete altar kit found in situ in an 8th c. context at Tel Dan (Biran 1994, pp. 192–95; J. S. Greer 2010; Kletter 2010; on the date of the Dan finds, see Thareani and Greer, forthcoming, contra the proposed redating of Tsfania-Zias 2025). The identification of the כף is more challenging, though the idea, first suggested by Albright (1932, p. 16), that the stone “ladle-shaped objects” found in a number of archaeological contexts in the Levant may represent these utensils is appealing.

These ladle-shaped objects, often crafted of steatite, are characterized by a plain or decorated bowl and a through-hole that opens from the bowl into a fixed stem. The decorated bowls incorporate plant, animal, or geometric designs and, in many instances, feature a distinctive stylized hand-carved on the underside, giving the appearance of a human hand cradling the bowl (Przeworski 1930) and prompting the suggestion of an association with the biblical כף-censer based on the common meaning of כף as “palm” or “hand.” These objects are found across the region from the Middle Bronze Age through the Iron Age in tombs and in cultic contexts from a number of sites, including Ugarit, Hazor, Megiddo, En Gev, the Carchemish area, Zinjirli, and Assur (Nielsen 1986, pp. 38–42), among others, and have been identified as censers (Przeworski 1930, p. 140).

The form is arguably inspired by Egyptian prototypes of arm-shaped censers frequently depicted in Egyptian reliefs, mentioned in texts, and recovered in archaeological contexts that were used to present incense to the gods (Wigand 1912, pp. 2–15; Table 1, 24–37; Nielsen 1986, pp. 3–15).17 An association of these censers with the biblical כף is strengthened by the fact that Egyptian k3p means “to burn incense,” often in cultic contexts (Erman and Grapow 1931, p. 103), and such may be the origin for the Hebrew term based on its similar function (Hoffmeier 2005, p. 216). Indeed, the earliest example from the Levant, a faience utensil from Ugarit with a carved hand on its underside like the Egyptian examples but without a through-hole, displays evidence of burning (Schaeffer 1938, p. 241, Pl. 22, 2).

In many of the Iron Age steatite examples, the presence of the through-hole, however, suggests that the bowls were attached to a longer tube and used as a pipe of some sort (Przeworski 1930, p. 140, Figure 4; Albright 1943, p. 70), either for inhaling smoke created by burning substances in the bowl (Albright 1936, p. 57; Albright 1943, p. 72) or for blowing into the bowl to enhance the burning process and express the smoke (Przeworski 1930, p. 140). Alternatively, it is possible that they were affixed to a drinking vessel of some (perhaps perishable) material for drinking, libation, or anointing (Albright 1936, p. 67, n. 9; Amiran 1962, pp. 170–73; Zwickel 1990, pp. 145–46), comparable to Iron Age “pilgrim flask” vessels with a similar design (Amiran 1962, Figure 5, nos. 1–3), especially in that clear evidence of burning is absent on most of the vessels. In favor of the pipe interpretation, some have noted that steatite is apparently resistant to heat (Albright 1943, p. 72; Nielsen 1986, pp. 38–41), thus burn marks would not be prevalent, and it may also be observed that in the extant examples, the through-hole is rather narrow and would be inefficient for passing liquids in contrast to “pilgrim flasks.”18 Until there is evidence from studies that incorporate organic residue analysis, however, the function of such utensils cannot be determined for certain, but if they were used for burning incense, the association with the כף seems reasonable based not only on their function, but also on the Egyptian material and linguistic parallels, as well as on the obvious connection between the Heb. term כף “palm of the hand” and the carved hand on the underside of many of the examples. If these ladle-shaped artifacts are indeed what the biblical scribes envisioned, the possibility that they were used for inhalation is all the more intriguing.

Returning to the Hebrew Bible, we may observe that the descriptions of altar kits that mention the כף and the מחתה vary as to the inclusion or exclusion of one or the other of these items, with further complications generated among the lists of the Septuagint that substitute other terms, change the order of elements in the list, omit certain items, or introduce new terms. In the MT, the standard tabernacle altar kit for service at the outer altar of burnt offering in the courtyard appears to have included a pot (סר), a pair of de-ashing shovels (יעים), a blood bowl (מזרק), meat fork (מזלג), and a firepan (מחתה), all fashioned of bronze (Exod 27:3//38:3; Num 4:14). Nearly the same courtyard altar kit, also of bronze, is described as crafted by Hiram for the temple of Solomon, but here the מחתה and the fork are omitted (1 Kgs 7:40//7:45; 2 Chron 4:11//4:16). Inside the tabernacle, gold כפות are listed as part of the dining kit for the table, along with jugs, bowls, and plates (Exod 25:29//37:16; Num 4:7) and gold כפות filled with incense are also included with silver blood bowls and animals for sacrifice in what appears to be an archaic tribute list of goods brought by the tribal chiefs in Numbers 7 (Levine 1965). In addition to the כפות, gold מחתות are also included in descriptions for vessels in the sanctuary (Exod 25:38; 1 Kgs 7:50//2 Chron 4:22) and described in related rituals (Lev 16:12–13; cf. Lev 10 and Num 16). The situation is further complicated by the lists of items taken as booty in the Babylonian sack of the temple that appear to blend tabernacle/temple courtyard altar kits and sanctuary table kits and suggest the possibility of bronze כפות (2 Kgs 25:14–15; Jer 52:18–19), implying כפות for the courtyard or contrast with the principle of graded holiness described elsewhere (Haran 1985, pp. 158–64), though this is not entirely clear.

While a full exposition of these differences, and the variations among the versions, is planned for future work, the point here is that diverse traditions are represented in the texts concerning the appropriate utensil, or utensils, for incense service in the Israelite cult: some mentioning either the מחתה or the כף, and others mentioning both. In light of the discoveries at Arad, I propose that the two utensils are not redundant but rather served to express two different types of incense—perhaps the מחתה served for the offering of the standard recipe of the frankincense-based “spiced incense” described in Exod 30:7–8; 34–38 (the קטרת סמים), as is explicitly the case in Lev 16:12–13a, and the כף served for another type of incense, perhaps the “strange incense” (קטרת זרה) of Exod 30:9, but this is pure conjecture. What we can say with greater confidence is that the presence or absence of one or the other of these utensils in the texts, then, may provide further support of ongoing discussion, debate, and negotiation, at some point (or at various points) in ancient Israel’s history about which utensil (and perhaps the associated incense tradition) was acceptable, as we saw above with incense compounds more broadly.

9. Conclusions

I have aimed to situate the story of Nadab and Abihu within the context of a larger ancient debate among priestly groups concerning competing incense traditions and their associated utensils. I have suggested that at some point in ancient Israel’s history, one of these traditions was prohibited: a “strange incense” (קטרת זרה), proscribed in Exod 30:9, that differed from the “spiced incense” (קטרת סמים), the standard frankincense-based compound described in Exod 30:34–38. In the context of Lev 10, I have associated this “strange incense” (קטרת זרה) with the “strange fire” (אש זרה) offered by the sons of Aaron and suggested that the story may be polemic against a “strange incense” tradition.

The evidence from Arad was invoked to demonstrate the use of incense in the ancient Israelite cult and to suggest that different incense traditions coexisted—in this case, one represented by a frankincense-based compound and the other by a cannabis-based compound. Thus, in the archaeological context of Arad, it was suggested that neither was prohibited, and this evidence was argued to support the idea of two different traditions in ancient Israel during the Iron Age. The fact that later priestly traditions argued for a single sanctioned incense—a frankincense-based “spiced incense” (קטרת סמים), like one of the compounds at Arad—was understood to open up the possibility that the “strange incense” (קטרת זרה) they railed against might have been a cannabis-based incense, like the other compound at Arad. I concluded that, if so, the prohibition of intoxication might make more sense in this context, though admittedly inhaled substances are not explicitly mentioned.

Even if I have correctly illuminated some of the perplexing aspects of “the case of the strange fire,” we are still left with the lingering question of why such intoxicants would have been prohibited in the cult of ancient Israel in contrast to their apparently sanctioned use in other ancient contexts. I suggest that if we take a phenomenological approach to understanding the perspective of the scribes who penned this story—that is, acknowledging that they considered “the holy” to be real (Otto [1917] 1924; cf. Eliade 1958, pp. 2–4)—and place their composition within a broader context of the widespread use of mind-altering substances in religion, we might begin to understand the intent behind the polemic.

As noted in the introduction, many current studies have highlighted the “spiritual” experiences described by participants under the influence of mind-altering substances—psychedelics especially (Richards 2016), but also cannabis (Ferrara 2016). Participants describe feelings of awe, mystery, and the sublime, as well as a sense of the loss of self and a greater “divine” unity, often noting the inadequacy of words to describe their “religious” experience (Richards 2016, pp. 24–26).19 Such descriptions map closely onto Otto’s description of the experience of “the holy” as mysterium tremendum et fascinans, that “wholly other” that is awesome and overpowering, inspiring a reverent fear from which one cannot turn away (Otto [1917] 1924), yet also an experience that serves to unify religious communities. Indeed, psychotropic substances are not the only way altered states of consciousness are realized within religious contexts, ancient or contemporary. They stand as but one avenue—perhaps the most expedient and efficient—to such transcendental states among other practices, including rhythmic activities, meditation, fasting, and sacred pain (Stein et al. 2025, pp. 133–54; J. C. Greer 2025, pp. 68–69). In fact, descriptions of experiences of “the holy” across the spectrum of practices are in many ways indistinguishable (Ferrara 2016, p. 6, with reference to D. Watts 1971, pp. 56–58). In this way, then, such chemically induced encounters with “the holy” may have been seen by the scribes to rival the “real” encounters they espoused that were achieved by other means.

Regardless of any speculation about the motive on the part of the scribes as it pertains to mind-altering compounds, the political realities of any of the divided times in ancient Israel’s history were surely entangled with religious practices, especially as both parties purported to worship the same deity. In such a context, debate about incense traditions may not simply be a dichotomy between so-called “popular” and “state” religion, though surely debate in these contexts was common, but rather conflict at the “state” vs. “state” level, Northern Israelite and/or Samarian vs. Southern Judahite and/or Judean. In these formative periods of scribal activity that resulted in what we call the Hebrew Bible, the scribes aimed not only to differentiate Yahwism from the worship of “other gods,” but also to retain their regional distinctions. Such negotiation likely resulted in some of the unevenness observed in the different traditions of the Hebrew Bible, and the evidence from Arad might suggest that, at least in some cases, parallel traditions seemed to coexist. In the end, however, the scribes who had the final say represented in the story of Nadab and Abihu argued that, in contrast to common religious practices of those around them and perhaps rival factions within them, the use of psychoactive substances to reach ecstatic or other-worldly states in the worship of Yahweh was out of bounds, a high that incurred the fury of the Most High.