The Septuagint Psalm Superscriptions (Part 2) Personal Names and Notions of Authorship

There are a total of 37 places where the LXX Psalter has either additions (13x) or expansions (24x) to the superscripts in comparison to the MT Psalter. While these may be classified in a number of ways, I will discuss them under four headings: personal names; genre designations, liturgical notices, and situational ascriptions. This blog entry will focus on personal names. (Note: Chapter and verse references are to the MT with the LXX indicated in parentheses).

Personal Names in the LXX Psalm Superscriptions

In the MT many of the psalms have references to personal names in the superscripts (typically with the preposition ל l). Seventy three psalms contain David; others have Asaph (12x; Pss 50; 73–83); the sons of Korah (11x; Pss 42; 44-49; 84-85; 87-88); Solomon (Pss 72; 127); Ethan (Ps 89), Heman (Ps 88), Moses (Ps 90), and possibly Jeduthun (Pss 39; 62; 77). With rare exceptions, the construction lamed + name is rendered with an articular dative. This includes all of the Asaph psalms and virtually all of the Korahite psalms (there are two contested cases where υπεÏ? + genitive is used: Ps 46(45) and 47(46)). In connection with the David psalms, Pietersma has argued that the six places that Rahlfs uses a genitive in his lemma text should be read as datives. Of the two psalms with Solomon in their titles, one is translated by a dative (Ps 127(126)), while the other is rendered by εις Σαλωμων “for Solomon” (Ps 72(71)).

David in the Septuagint Psalter
In the LXX there are a number of instances where personal names are added, including Jeremiah and Ezekiel in Ps 65(64); Haggai and Zechariah in Ps 146(145); 147:1-11(146); 147:12-20(147); and 148. Most of the changes in personal names, however, relate to David, the “sweet psalmist of Israel.” In 13 cases the LXX adds a reference to David (Pss 33(32); 43(42); 71(70); 91(90); 93(92); 94(93); 95(94); 96(95); 97(96); 98(97); 99(98); 104(103); 137(136). (I should also note that there are two instances where references to David are omitted in the Greek tradition: Pss 122(121) and 124(123)). In all but one instance (Ps 98(97)), the LXX adds this association to psalms that are untitled in the MT. The question that immediately comes to mind are whether these additions reflect a different Hebrew text or are the product of transmission history. Unfortunately, it is difficult to gain any critical purchase on this question since Ï„á¿· Δαυιδ is the default rendering of לדוד. In three cases it is more than likely that the additions reflect a different Hebrew text, as there is textual evidence to support the variant reading, whether among a few Masoretic texts (43(42)), or among the DSS (e.g., 11QPsq has לדוד in Ps 33(32); and 11QPsa and 4QPse also have לדויד in Ps 104(103).

The remaining ten instances are more difficult to access. Al Pietersma, in his study “David in the Greek Psalms” (VT 30 (1980) 213-226), suggests that the Davidic references in Pss 71(70); 91(90); 93(92); 95(94); 96(95); and 97(96); may be called into question because other elements of the LXX superscripts are clearly secondary. While this is essentially a “guilty by association” argument, it’s the best we can do considering the evidence. This leaves four superscripts that add an association with David: Pss 94(93); 98(97); 99(98); and 137(136). It is almost impossible to make any determination with Ps 94(93), as the superscript is uncontested. As a royal psalm, it may be understandable why Ps 98(97) would attract a Davidic superscript, though this does not help explain Ps 99(98) (contra Pietersma). The only superscript where some judgment may be made is Ps 137(136). There is quite a bit of variation among the textual witnesses, with many of them including an ascription to Jeremiah, and some conflating the two and associating the psalm with David and Jeremiah. The textual rivalry between David and Jeremiah could be an indication that the psalm was originally untitled, as it is in the MT tradition and Qumran.

Jeremiah & Ezekiel in the Septuagint Psalter
As noted above, some Greek texts of Ps 137(136) include a reference to Jeremiah in their superscripts. The association with Jeremiah in the Greek tradition is perhaps understandable considering the psalm’s exilic setting, though according to biblical tradition Jeremiah never goes to Babylon. There is a tradition, however, that places Jeremiah in Babylon. In fact, 4Baruch 7:33-36 Ps 137(136):3-4 is actually put into the mouth of Jeremiah. The text reads as follows:

For I [Jeremiah] say to you that the whole time we have been here, they have oppressed us, saying “Sing us a song from the songs of Zion, the song of your God.” And we say to them, “How can we sing to you, being in a foreign land?”

While there is a possibility that the superscript led to 4Baruch making the association, it seems more plausible the other way around because 4Baruch has Jeremiah in Babylon, where singing the psalm makes sense. In addition, in 4Baruch there is no indication that Jeremiah is quoting Scripture.

The reference to Jeremiah in Ps 137(136) is not the only one found in the LXX Psalter. The prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel are mentioned together in Ps 65(64). The full superscript reads as follows:

εἰς τὸ τέλος ψαλμὸς Ï„á¿· Δαυιδ ᾠδή ΙεÏ?εμιου καὶ Ιεζεκιηλ á¼?κ τοῦ λόγου τῆς παÏ?οικίας ὅτε ἔμελλον á¼?κποÏ?εύεσθαι
To the end. A psalm for David. A song. Of Jeremiah and Ezekiel from the account of the sojourning community, when they were about to go out.

The superscript is somewhat contested, though Rahlfs considered it OG. What is interesting about this superscript, is that like the previous example, there is a double association: a connection with David and with Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Unlike the previous example, it is not clear what triggered the association with Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Within the psalm itself there are no explicit connections with these prophets or the return from exile in general. The reference to “Zion” and the addition of “Jerusalem” in v. 2 may suggest this is one of the “songs of Zion” mentioned in Ps 137. While these (and others I won’t bore you with) readings of the Greek translation may provide some clues as to why the association was made, it is more certain that the association is due to an inner-Greek development rather than a different Hebrew parent text. This is almost certain due to the fact that the superscript employs the atypical conjunction ὅτε, and that the grammatical construction of the modal μελλω (“about to”) plus a complementary infinitive is never found elsewhere in the LXX Psalter, and thus is not congruent with the translator’s technique.

Haggai & Zechariah in the Septuagint Psalter
The final two individuals that we meet unexpectedly in the superscript of the LXX Psalter are the post-exilic prophets Haggai and Zechariah. Ps 146(145); 147:1-11(146); 147:12-20(147); and 148 all include Αλληλουια, Αγγαιου καὶ ΖαχαÏ?ιου “Hallelujah. Of Haggai and Zechariah” (or “A Hallelujah of…”). If you look beyond Rahlfs’ text, then Haggai and Zechariah also show up in Ps 149 and 150, as well as 111(110), 112(111), and even 138(137) and 139(138). Of courses, not all attestations are as strong textually, though it is interesting to note how the tradition surrounding Haggai and Zechariah grew.

How the association of Haggai and Zechariah with these psalms arose is a perplexing question. F. W. Mozley (The Psalter of the Church, Cambridge University Press, 1905, p. 188), conjectures that Haggai and Zechariah were compilers of a small collection of psalms from which these psalms were taken. While that may be the case, a more plausible solution may be to look in these psalms for connections to the post-exilic community. Both Martin Rösel (“Die Psalmüberschriften Des Septuaginta-Psalters,” in Der Septuaginta-Psalter, Herder, 2001, pp. 125-148) and Al Pietersma (“Exegesis and Liturgy in the Superscriptions of the Greek Psalter,” in X Congress of the IOSCS, Oslo 1998, Society of Biblical Literature, 2001, pp. 99-138) appeal to Psalm 147(146) as the text that triggered the initial association. Verse 2 in the LXX has an explicit reference to the return from exile. The texts read as follows:

οἰκοδομῶν ΙεÏ?ουσαλημ á½? κÏ?Ï?ιος καὶ Ï„á½°Ï‚ διασποÏ?á½°Ï‚ τοῦ ΙσÏ?αηλ á¼?πισυνάξει
The Lord is the one who (re)builds Jerusalem; and he will gather the dispersed [diaspora] of Israel

The translation of the Nif’al participle from נדח “drive away” by διασποÏ?α is atypical. Elsewhere the translator renders נדח by εξωθεω“to expelâ€? (5:11) or απωθεομαι “expel, banish” (62[61]:5). Rather than these more general terms, in the passage under question he employs a technical term for the exilic dispersion, διασποÏ?α. Perhaps significant, is the fact that this term also shows up in some witnesses in connection with Zechariah in the superscript to Ps 139(138). This reference to the exilic dispersion in Ps 147 may have spawned the initial association with two prominent figures of the return, Haggai and Zechariah, which then expanded to include other psalms. The fact that the names are in the genitive may suggest these superscripts are products of transmission history, as it is unclear what the Hebrew text could have read to produce such a translation (If the Hebrew was lamed + name, then you would expect an article in the Greek, and there is no precedent for a construction “the hallelujah of Haggai and Zechariah”).

Personal Names and Authorship

One question that comes up in examining the LXX superscripts is how the translator understood the notion of authorship. Interestingly, it appears to be the case that the Greek translator (one of the earliest biblical interpreters) did not see the personal names in the superscripts as an indication of authorship, as a genitive construction would be expected. For example, Didymus the Blind (a 4th century Alexandrian theologian) makes the distinction in the Tura Psalms commentary in connection with Psalm 24:

(Ψαλμος τω δαυιδ): εις τον δαυιδ ο ψαλμος λεγεται αλλο γαÏ? εστιν “του δαυιδ” ειναι και αλλο “τω δαυιδ” λεγεται, οταν η αυτος αυτον πεποιηκως η ψαλλων. “αυτω” δε λεγεται, οταν εις αυτον φεÏ?ηται.
The psalm says “to David,” for others are “of David” and others “to David.” It says “of David,” when he made/wrote it or sang [it]. But it says “to him” when it was brought to him.

So while the Old Greek translation does not seem to indicate authorship, the growing trend in later witnesses is to spell out authorship explicitly by using the genitive. This suggests that the emphasis on individual authorship grew with time.

The evidence from the Greek Psalter fits nicely with a theory of Burton Mack’s I came across a number of years ago in an article entitled, “Under the Shadow of Moses: Authorship and Authority in Hellenistic Judaism” (SBL Seminar Papers 21 (1982) 299-318). In this article Mack argues that the interest in individual authorship only developed as Israel interacted with Hellenism. In the same way that the Greeks had their famous individuals, so too Judaism began to emphasize their own: Moses and the Pentateuch, Solomon and wisdom literature, and — as is clear from the Greek Psalms — David and the Psalter. The growing Davidic connection in the LXX Psalter is also paralleled in 11QPsa, where the prose piece notes that David composed over 4000 psalms “by the spirit of prophecy.”

The Septuagint Psalm Superscriptions (Part 1)

I have been meaning to blog on some of my research on the Psalm superscriptions since I presented a paper at the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies annual meeting earlier this spring (see my summaries of the conference here, here, and here).

This will be the first of five posts on the Septuagint Psalm superscriptions that I will do over the next little while.

Superscripts in the Hebrew Masoretic Tradition

In the Hebrew Masoretic (MT) Psalter, 117 out of 150 psalms are preceded by a superscription, containing four possible types of information:

  1. Personal names (most often with the preposition ‏לְ ). Seventy three psalms contain David; other have Asaph (Pss 50; 73; 83); the sons of Korah (Pss 42; 44-49; 84-85; 87-88); Solomon (Pss 72; 127); Ethan (Ps 89), Heman (Ps 88), Moses (Ps 90), and possibly Jeduthun (Pss 39; 62; 77).
  2. “Genre” classifications (not form-critical genres), including non-technical (e.g., ‏ מִזְמוֹר “psalm” and ‏ שִׁ֥יר “song”; etc.) and technical terms (e.g.,‏ מִכְתָּ֥ם miktam, ‏מַשְׂכִּ֥יל maskil).
  3. Liturgical directions, including the phrase ‏לַמְנַצֵּ֥חַ “to the leader” (NRSV; “for the director of music,” NIV); and other obscure terms denoting melodies, musical instruments, and/or cultic procedures.
  4. Situational ascriptions relating individual psalms to David’s life (Pss 3; 7; 18; 34; 51; 52; 54; 56; 57; 59; 60; 63; 142).

The superscriptions are most likely not original to the psalms, but were added piecemeal before the compilation of the book. Some suggest the liturgical instructions may have been originally subscripts (cf. Hab 3:1, 19). The personal names in the superscripts reflect an old tradition and some of them may even denote actual authorship or perhaps more likely patronage (however, as we will see in my next installment, their first interpreters, i.e., the Greek translators of the Hebrew Psalter, did not understand the personal names as indicating authorship). David’s multiple associations with the origin of psalmody in Israel is very likely ancient (2 Sam 22:1-51; 1 Chron 16:7-43); though it also grew with time (the cross-references to David’s life in some superscripts are likely midrashic comments based upon this growing tradition). The primary significance for the superscripts is the light they shed on the composition and use of the book of Psalms in ancient Israel.

Superscripts in the Greek Septuagint

When one compares the superscripts of the MT and the Septuagint (LXX) one soon discovers a bewildering variety of differences, both qualitative and quantitative. By quantitative I mean actual differences in the superscripts — whether expansions, additions, or deletions — and by qualitative I mean differences in meaning in the translation. What I want to concentrate on are the quantitative differences. That is, the deletions, expansions, and additions found in the LXX superscripts. And the primary question that I want to pursue is what is the nature of the differences. That is, do they reflect a different Hebrew Vorlage [original] or are they inner-Greek developments? But before we move on to this discussion, I want to make two general observations on the character of the superscripts in the LXX.

One of the first things that you observe when examining the superscripts is that it is apparent that the translator had some difficulties with them. Frankly put, he just didn’t know what he was translating some of the time! His method of dealing with the terms he didn’t recognize varied. At times he relied on etymological renderings. So for instance, the translation of [probably a type of song in Hebrew] in 13 superscriptions is consistently rendered as συνέσεως “understanding” or “be prudent.” This equivalency is based on relating the Hebrew to the verbal root σύνεσις, “understand.” Other times, the translator employed (partial) transcriptions such as the rendering of ‏עַֽל־מָחֲלַ֗ת ; (“according to Mahalath” in NRSV) in Pss 53 and 88 are rendered ὑπὲρ μαελεθ. Other times the translator employed educated guesswork, such as the regular translation of ‏מְנַצֵּ֥חַ (“leader” NRSV or “director” BDB) as τὸ τέλος some 55 times in the Psalter. Here the translator evidently related the Heb to the nominal נֵצַח “eminence, enduring, everlastingness, perpetuity” (BDB). Despite the uncertainty that the translator had with his Vorlage, once he decided on an equivalence, he stuck with it. The titles (and to a lesser extent the translation as a whole) are a good example of a very formal — even stilted — translation. For instance, ‏לַמְנַצֵּ֥חַ— always gives rise to εἰς τὸ τέλος‚ “to the end,” ל+personal object is rendered as an articular dative (with the sole exception of לשלמה in Ps 72(71) which features Εἰς Σαλωμων instead), and על + object produces ὑπὲÏ? + genitive.

Second, once you dig a bit deeper into the superscripts, you notice that there is significantly more textual instability surrounding them compared with the rest of the translation. From a text-critical point of view, most of the quantitative differences in the superscripts are contested. More precisely, of the 24 expansions found in the LXX, 19 are contested and only 5 are uncontested; while the additions fair better with 10 uncontested and only three contested. Of course, just because an addition is not contested textually does not mean that it should be considered OG. The LXX is replete with examples of clearly secondary readings that have full textual support (The most famous is Psalm 14(13):3, which includes the text of Romans 3:13-18. This clearly was triggered by the fact that Paul quotes a chain of OT texts beginning with Ps 14(13):3 and them moving without comment to Ps 5.10, 139.4, 9,28; Isa 59:7, 8; Ps 35.2). What this does suggest is that the superscripts were treated with a bit more flexibility. This is likely because they were not considered as having the same authority as the text of the psalms themselves, but instead reflected an ongoing exegetical and liturgical (re)readings of the psalms. This conclusion is borne out by my analysis of the quantitative differences in the titles (that we’ll get to shortly), but also by later scribal practices that made a distinction between the superscripts and the body of the psalm.

My next blog on this topic will look at the additions and expansions including personal names in the Septuagint Psalter — at which point we’ll take a look particularly at the notion of authorship.

War and Qohelet

Is there a time for war? I would argue that the list of 14 antitheses in chapter three of Qohelet are not presented as things that are all good or proper. In fact, the list alternates between what is desirable (birth, healing, peace, etc.) and undesirable (death, killing, war, etc.). But the point of the entire list is to show the hebel ‏הֲבֵל or absurdity of human existence “under heaven.” All of these things happen outside of human control and because everything is determined, there is no profit in human toil. Verse 11 is the key to the interpretation of this passage. The first phrase emphasizes the fact that God determines the time for everything, ‏ אֶת־הַכֹּל עָשָׂ֖ה יָפֶה בְעִתּוֹ “He brings everything to pass precisely at his time” (Note that I took referent of the possessive pronoun on “time” as God). The rest of the verse highlights the absurdity of human existence: while there is a time for everything, only God knows the timing: God has “put ‏הָעֹלָם in their hearts, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” The times are set and there is nothing that we can do about it. This unpleasant conclusion is that God has played a trick on all of us. He has implanted in us an awareness that of our inability to know. Our only compensation is that we can enjoy the good time — though note that even here it is a gift controlled by God. I don’t think that this list can be used to justify any human actions, whether the decision to enter into a war or to go dancing.

I object to ever describing war as “just, right, and/or good.” Sadly, war is a much too frequent reality in this radically fallen world, but that doesn’t mean it is ever good. War is a manifestation of evil and no matter what noble reasons one may have for waging war, the evil of war will pervade all who participate. A prime example of this would be World War II. If any war could be deemed a “justifiable” war, I would think it would be the one. That being said, the war in the Asia-Pacific theatre ended up with the U.S. dropping atomic bombs on civilian targets — which I would find difficult to ever consider “just, right, and good.” Thus, while war is a reality and perhaps even necessary for a nation to engage in once all other options have been exhausted, it is never a “good” option. If this is “quibbling” forgive me; I believe it is an important distinction.

Recent Volume on Psalms Scholarship

This massive tome on Psalms scholarship has recently come into my possession:

Peter W. Flint and Patrick D. Miller, eds., with the assistance of A. Brunell and R. Roberts, The Book of Psalms: Composition and Reception (Vetus Testamentum Supplements 99; Formation and Interpretation of Old Testament Literature 4; Leiden/Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2005). Pp. xx + 680. Cloth, 179.00, US$241.00. ISBN: 90 04 13642 8. Buy from Amazon.ca | Buy from Amazon.com

While I will be writing a review of this work for the Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, I thought I would preview it here first to whet your appetites (and give you time to save your money so you can afford to purchase it!).

This volume, edited by Peter Flint and Patrick Miller, is the most recent in the “Formation and Interpretation of Old Testament Literature” series produced by Brill. This series examines the prehistory, contents, themes, reception and interpretation of select books of the Hebrew Bible. Much in this volume does just that, though perhaps the most glaring omission that I noticed as soon as I perused the table of contents is the complete lack of any chapter on the Dead Sea Scrolls (there are, however, two chapters on the Psalms in the Syriac tradition!). I personally do not understand how a volume on the composition and reception of the Psalter can not have a chapter devoted to the significance of the so-called Qumran Psalms Scroll (11QPs-a). This lacuna is all the more obvious considering that one of the editors of the volume is Peter Flint!

This volume contains a number of excellent essays on various aspects of Psalms scholarship, many by seasoned Psalms scholars like Broyles, Brueggemann, Gerstenberger, Koch, McCann, Seybold, Wilson, and Zenger.

The volume is divided into five major sections. Here is a listing of the esays:

Part One: General Topics

Klaus Koch, “Königspsalmen und ihr ritueller. Hintergrund: Erwägungen zu Ps 89, 20–38 and Ps 20 und ihrer Vorstufen” (9-52); Rolf Rendtorff, “The Psalms of David: David in the Psalms” (53-64).

Part Two: Commentary on or Interpretation of Specific Psalms
Adele Berlin, “Psalms and the Literature of Exile: Psalms 137, 44, 69, and 78” (65-86); David Noel Freedman and David Miano, “Non-Acrostic Alphabetic Psalms” (87-96); J. J. M. Roberts, “Mowinckel’s Enthronement Festival: A Review” (97-115); Beat Weber, “Zum sogennanten “Stimmungsumschwung” in Psalm 13″ (116-138); Nancy L. deClaissé-Walford, “An Intertextual Reading of Psalms 22, 23, and 24” (139-152); Dennis Pardee, “On Psalm 29: Structure and Meaning” (153-183); John S. Kselman, “Double Entendre in Psalm 59” (184-189); Richard J. Clifford, S.J., “Psalm 90: Wisdom Meditation or Communal Lament?” (190-205); Michael L. Barré, “The Shifting Focus of Psalm 101” (206-223); Sung-Hun Lee, “Lament and the Joy of Salvation in the Lament Psalms” (224-247); Craig C. Broyles, “Psalms Concerning the Liturgies of Temple Entry” (248-287); James W. Watts, “Biblical Psalms Outside the Psalter” (288-309).

Part Three: The Psalter as Book, Including Smaller Collections
Harry P. Nasuti, “The Interpretive Significance of Sequence and Selection in the Book of Psalms” (311-339); J. Clinton McCann, Jr., “The Shape of Book I of the Psalter and the Shape of Human Happiness” (340-348); Michael Goulder, “The Social Setting of Book II of the Psalter” (349-367); Klaus D. Seybold, “Zur Geschichte des vierten Davidpsalters (Pss 138-145)” (368-390); Gerald H. Wilson, “King, Messiah, and the Reign of God: Revisiting the Royal Psalms and the Shape of the Psalter” (391-406); Erich Zenger, “Theophanien des Königsgottes JHWH: Transformationen von Psalm 29 in den Teilkompositionen Ps 28-30 und Ps 93-100” (407-442).

Part Four: Textual History and Reception in Judaism and Christianity
Albert Pietersma, “Septuagintal Exegesis and the Superscriptions of the Greek Psalter” (443-475); Moshe Bernstein, “A Jewish Reading of Psalms: Some Observations on the Method of the Aramaic Targum” (476-504); Robert J. V. Hiebert, “The Place of the Syriac Versions in the Textual History of the Psalter” (505-536); Harry F. Van Rooy, “The Psalms in Early Syriac Tradition” (537-550); Craig A. Evans, “Praise and Prophecy in the Psalter and in the New Testament” (551-579).

Part Five: Theology of the Psalter
Walter Brueggemann, “The Psalms in Theological Use: On Incommensurability and Mutuality” (581-602); Erhard S. Gerstenberger, “Theologies in the Book of Psalms” (603-625).

The volume includes five helpful indices: Scripture, Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, Dead Sea Scrolls, Other Ancient Writings, and Modern Authors.

Queen Esther on the Big Screen Yet Again!

Peter Chattaway has a note on his blog about an upcoming film based on the biblical book of Esther: One Night With the King, starring Peter O’Toole and Omar Sharif (due out later this year). Chattaway further notes a few other movies made about the story of Esther.

According to my count there have been a total of nine films based on the book of Esther. Besides the 1916 silent film directed by Maurice Elvey, the French produced three silent films inspired by the biblical character: Gaumont studios produced two films in 1910: Esther and Mordecai directed by Louis Feuillade and The Marriage of Esther, while C.G.P.C. made another movie called Esther directed by Henri Andréani. In addition, the Dutch director-actor Theo Frankel directed Esther: A Biblical Episode in 1911.

Once we are out of the silent era, there are three other films inspired by Esther (all of which Chattaway mentioned): Mario Bava and Raoul Walsh’s Esther and the King (1960); Amos Gitai’s Esther (1986); and Raffaele Mertes’ Esther (1999).

As a biblical scholar I found Esther and the King quite interesting — especially how they modified the king’s reason for getting rid of Queen Vashti. In the film they have Vashti cheating on the king and actually showing up at the banquet and performing a striptease (see picture of Daniela Rocca as Vashti above right), while in the biblical account she is dumped because she refused to come at the king’s command (Esther 1:10-12). What is perhaps ironic, is that some scholars (such as Michael Fox in his excellent book, Character and Ideology in the Book of Esther (Eerdmans, 2001; Buy from Amazon.ca | Buy from Amazon.com) suggest that when the king asks her to come before the crowd “wearing the royal crown”, it is implied that she was to come wearing only the crown, i.e., naked. So the striptease in the movie may not be too far off the mark, after all! At any rate, the movie itself isn’t that bad — and it stars Joan Collins as Esther (see picture, above left).

Last and not least, a recent “film” on Esther that I should mention is the VeggieTales production, Esther, The Girl Who Became Queen, that came out in 2000 (and I have watched many times since with my kids!)

For a fairly complete listing of films based on the Hebrew Bible, see my The Old Testament on Film page.