One such answer comes from a text attributed to Philo of Alexandria, a Jewish philosopher who lived in Egypt during the first century. While scholars debate whether he actually penned The Midrash of Philo, it offers a unique lens through which to view familiar stories. This particular passage delves into the origins of giants, and it's definitely a head-turner.
Philo, or rather the author of this Midrash, tackles the story of the nephilim (נְפִילִים), those mysterious figures mentioned in Genesis 6:4, often translated as giants. Now, poets might call them “sons of the Earth,” but the Midrash sees something else at play. It suggests that these giants weren't just big guys; they were the product of something far more… unusual.
According to this interpretation, these giants were born from the union of "angels and mortal women." Whoa, right? The text explains that angels, beings of pure spirit, have the ability to "imitate the appearance of men" and "transform themselves so as to assume the human shape." And apparently, on this particular occasion, they did just that, connecting with women and creating a race of giants.
Think about that for a moment. Spiritual beings taking on human form… It’s a powerful image, filled with both wonder and potential danger.
But here's the kicker: what happens when those children, these giant offspring, inherit the worst qualities of their mortal mothers and reject the virtue of their angelic fathers? According to the Midrash, they are doomed. Their wickedness, their "proud contempt for the supreme Deity," leads to their condemnation. They become examples of "voluntary and deliberate wickedness."
Now, let’s pause and consider the term "sons of God" (b'nai elohim). We find it used in various ways throughout Jewish scripture. The Midrash suggests that Moses sometimes uses it to refer to angels because they weren't "produced by any mortal" and are "incorporeal." But there’s another layer to it. Moses, as a "exhorter and teacher of virtue," also uses "sons of God" to describe "men who are very excellent and endowed with great virtue." In contrast, the wicked and depraved are simply called "bodies, or flesh."
Isn't that fascinating? The distinction isn't just about physical form, but about moral character. It's about aligning oneself with the divine, striving for virtue, or succumbing to the base desires of the flesh.
So, what are we to make of this strange tale of angels, women, and giants? It's not just a historical account; it's a moral lesson. It’s a reminder that our choices matter, that we have the potential for both great good and terrible evil. It prompts us to ask ourselves: what kind of offspring are we creating in the world, through our actions and our choices? Are we striving to be "sons of God," embodying virtue and righteousness, or are we succumbing to the darkness within? Food for thought, indeed.