A Critical Reassessment of Heiser’s Work
on the Supernatural, Two Powers Doctrine,
and Monotheism after Maimonides
Michael Heiser, a renowned Bible scholar and author, gained recognition for his work on the supernatural, particularly through his Naked Bible Podcast and books. Heiser sought to strike a balance between supernaturalism and intellectual credibility, challenging both extreme skepticism and naïve literalism.
Before his passing, Heiser established a Bible school at Celebration Church in Jacksonville, demonstrating his commitment to making biblical scholarship accessible to a broader audience. His work sought to bridge the gap between the Western church’s skepticism toward the supernatural and hyper-spiritualized interpretations, advocating instead for a cosmic worldview grounded in scripture.
An accomplished Hebrew and ancient languages scholar, Heiser rigorously confronted pseudo-linguistic claims, such as Zecharia Sitchin’s theories about ancient aliens. However, his approach to the sons of God mating with the daughters of men (Genesis 6) as a “second fall” perpetuated a common misinterpretation. The Nephilim, often sensationalized as a hybrid race, should instead be understood as a fallen state rather than a biological lineage.
Michael Heiser overlooked a significant aspect of biblical anthropology: the distinction between HaAdam (the primordial Adam) and the Second Adam (Genesis 4:25), marking a crucial theological shift. This shift aligns more with a descent from the realm of Yetzirah (formation) into Assiyah (action), reinforcing the idea that the Nephilim represent a spiritual condition rather than a biological lineage. The Lord’s rebuke to Cain—“Why is your face Nephil (fallen, dejected)?”—further supports this interpretation, emphasizing that fallenness is a spiritual disposition rather than a hybrid race. However, Heiser’s overreliance on the Enochian Corpus as an interpretive framework led him away from recognizing the true biblical category of fallenness—not in terms of angelic offspring but in the struggle between covenantal inheritance and rejection, exemplified in Jacob and Esau.
Esau and Edom are sparsely mentioned in the New Testament, yet their theological significance is immense. Heiser often admitted that he was not a New Testament scholar, and this proved to be his greatest weakness. He did address “Jacob I have loved, but Esau I have hated”(Romans 9:13), arguing—as many do—that it refers to nations rather than individuals, emphasizing corporate election over predestinarian interpretations. Heiser frequently challenged Reformed theology, opposing a deterministic view of predestination, but he still failed to see the full implication of Edom’s rejection.
While he correctly noted that Paul was quoting Malachi 1:2-3, he missed the deeper biblical trajectory—Edom’s rejection is not merely historical; it is the very pattern that Christendom ultimately followed. Just as Edom, despite its proximity to Israel, was cast outside the covenant, so too did Christianity, as it drifted into imperial dominion, take on Edom’s role rather than Jacob’s struggle.
This, however, does not mean that the Christian faith itself is rejected—only that Christendom, in taking on the Edomite trajectory, stands under judgment. There may be truth in recognizing Edom’s rejection as a biblical pattern, but that does not mean the faith of Messiah and His covenant community is invalid. Instead, it means that Christianity, as it became a geopolitical-religious empire, aligned itself with Edom rather than with Jacob.
More fundamentally, just because someone is an expert in Hebrew and the so-called ‘Old Testament’ does not mean they understand Judaism. This is where Heiser’s scholarship, for all its depth in ancient languages and biblical studies, fell short. His engagement with Second Temple thought and the divine council was insightful, but his understanding of Judaism remained incomplete, largely filtered through modern critical scholarship rather than a lived grasp of its covenantal and exegetical tradition.
This is precisely why he failed to see the true weight of Edom’s rejection and its implications for Christendom. Heiser, in his commendable retrieval of the divine council and Two Powersdiscussions, missed the deepest theological crisis in church history: that the very faith intended to embody Israel’s fulfillment instead became entangled in Edom’s rejection.
The Problem of the Enochian Influence
One of the most problematic aspects of Heiser’s approach was his reliance on 1 Enoch and the broader Enochian Corpus as an interpretive lens for Genesis 6 and supernatural theology. While 1 Enoch is valuable for understanding Second Temple Jewish thought, it was never canonized in Judaism and was explicitly dismissed by rabbinic authorities. Even in Christian tradition, apart from the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, 1 Enoch has never been part of the biblical canon.
One of the most problematic aspects of Heiser’s approach was his reliance on 1 Enoch and the broader Enochian Corpus as an interpretive lens for Genesis 6 and supernatural theology. While 1 Enoch is valuable for understanding Second Temple Jewish thought, it was never canonized in Judaism and was explicitly dismissed by rabbinic authorities. Even in Christian tradition, apart from the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, 1 Enoch has never been part of the biblical canon.
To put it bluntly, the Books of Enoch are to biblical theology what Tim LaHaye’s Left Behind series is to eschatology—entertaining, speculative, and loosely based on scripture, but ultimately a work of religious fiction rather than divine revelation. Paul’s warning in Titus 1:14—to avoid “Jewish fables and commandments of men who turn from the truth”—applies well here. The Books of Enoch contain mythological embellishments and apocalyptic fantasies that blur the distinction between biblical truth and imaginative storytelling.
The Watchers narrative in 1 Enoch, which expands Genesis 6 into a grand supernatural rebellion, finds no parallel in the Tanakh, the Septuagint, or authoritative Jewish tradition. This is not accidental—rabbinic scholars recognized that 1 Enoch was aggadic (legendary) rather than authoritative. Heiser, by treating the Enochian worldview as a legitimate theological framework, unwittingly placed speculation on the same level as scripture.
More significantly, the apocalyptic framework of 1 Enoch distorts the biblical understanding of divine justice and spiritual warfare. While Heiser was correct in recognizing the divine council theme (Psalm 82, Deuteronomy 32:8), his reliance on 1 Enoch led him to elevate non-canonical traditions above explicit biblical teaching. He often treated the Enochian worldview as if it was part of the biblical authors’ framework rather than a later mythological development. This approach risks subordinating divine revelation to Second Temple-era speculation, much like LaHaye’s hyper-dispensationalist approach subordinates biblical eschatology to modern fiction and news events.
Divine Council, Two Powers, and the Post-Maimonidean Distortion of Monotheism
Heiser’s core contributions include his work on the divine council (Genesis 10, Deuteronomy 32, Psalm 82), where he asserted that “Elohim” is a generic term for spiritual beings rather than a strict reference to a singular deity. This interpretation clarified biblical texts like “Let us make man in our image,” steering the discussion away from its conventional Trinitarian proof-text application. While this insight was valuable, it also invited speculative theories—some of which Heiser himself sought to correct, though he underestimated the cautionary stance of Jewish tradition regarding the Enochian Corpus and its influence on Second Temple theology.
However, Heiser’s treatment of Jewish monotheism failed to properly contextualize the shift that occurred after Maimonides, when the radical Aristotelian monotheism of The Guide for the Perplexed effectively severed the rich Second Temple concept of divine agency from Jewish theology. Prior to Maimonides, Jewish thought presented intermediary figures such as the Sar ha-Panim (Prince of the Presence) and the Netiaot (‘shoot’) tradition, which maintained a deep continuity between the biblical concept of divine representation yet connected identical with YHWH’s Name and authority. The first chapter of the Gospel of John and the Book of Hebrews are standard and congruent and sources Heiser touch-upon but like he always said “the New Testament was not his area of expertise.”
Further on into the Middle Ages, the post-Maimonidean framework, heavily influenced by Islamic tawhid and Aristotelian metaphysics, distorted the more biblically grounded theology of divine agency that was present in the Second Temple period. Figures like Metatron, who in some Jewish mystical traditions had been seen as bearing divine authority, were now entirely reinterpreted within an increasingly rigid and impersonal view of monotheism. This was a retreat from the richly developed biblical and Second Temple view of YHWH’s presence as mediated through exalted figures, a theological shift that forced later Jewish thought into an apologetic stance against any perceived plurality within the divine economy.
One major area Heiser largely overlooked, despite his Old Testament expertise, is tripartite Christology in Genesis 18, where Abraham encounters three visitors—one explicitly identified as YHWH—foreshadowing the New Testament revelation of Christ as God in human form. The fact that YHWH appears physically, speaks with Abraham, and later interacts with another YHWH in heaven (Genesis 19:24) makes this one of the clearest anticipations of NT Christology. This theophany reaches its fulfillment at the Mount of Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-5), where Christ’s divine nature is unveiled before Peter, James, and John, alongside Moses and Elijah, as the Father’s voice confirms His Sonship.
Crucially, this event must be understood through the testimony of its witnesses, as they saw it. The disciples were not interpreting a vision but beholding divine reality—Christ transfigured in glory, not as an exalted servant like Metatron, but as YHWH in the flesh.
The Critical Distinction: The Son of Man and the Throne
The Son of Man motif is also where Heiser’s analysis required greater precision. When Jesus declared, “You will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds” (Matthew 26:64), He was invoking Daniel 7:13–14, where the bar enash (Son of Man) ascends to the throne of the Ancient of Days. In Second Temple Jewish thought, this throne was unique—its occupant was not merely an exalted figure but a co-regent with God. Unlike Metatron, whose role is ultimately subordinate in 3 Enoch, the bar enash in Daniel receives dominion that is not delegated.
This is why the rabbinic rejection of Two Powers was not merely a suppression of binitarian ideas but a theological response to Christianity’s claim that Jesus, as the Son of Man, did not merely serve God but reigned as Him. The distinction is critical: Metatron, in various mystical depictions, remains a servant, no matter how exalted, whereas Jesus claims the throne itself. This was the charge that led to His condemnation before the Sanhedrin—not merely a claim to Messiahship, but a claim to co-regency and ontological equality with God.
This is our God, the Servant King! And undoubtedly, the majority report in Judaism has wrestled with this reality, as it challenges the later Maimonidean monotheistic framework that rejected Second Temple conceptions of divine agency in favor of Aristotelian abstraction.
Conclusion: A Necessary Reassessment of Heiser’s Legacy
Michael Heiser’s work reinvigorated the study of the supernatural in biblical theology, challenging both materialist reductionism and hyper-literalist interpretations. However, his interpretations of Two Powers, the Son of Man, and divine agency often blurred critical distinctions. His methodology, shaped by modern critical scholarship, notably Wellhausen with really heavy doses of Anceint Near Literature limited his ability to fully appreciate the theological coherence of scripture. Most notably, his over-reliance on the Enochian Corpus as an interpretive framework undermined his otherwise rigorous approach to biblical theology.
Heiser’s greatest strength was his willingness to engage with difficult supernatural themes that many scholars avoided. However, his greatest weakness was his tendency to elevate extra-biblical sources—particularly 1 Enoch—to a status that obscured the finality of divine revelation. The Books of Enoch, while useful for historical study, belong in the category of Jewish myths and fables (Titus 1:14) rather than scripture—just as Left Behind belongs in the realm of speculative Christian fiction rather than sound biblical eschatology.
In the end, Heiser’s work remains invaluable for recovering a biblical worldview of the supernatural, but it must be approached with discernment. His engagement with 1 Enoch and Two Powers theory must be tempered with the recognition that scripture alone defines divine truth. His legacy invites continued exploration—but with the caution that only canonical scripture can serve as the foundation for sound doctrine, a truth that post-Maimonidean Judaism and hyper-literalist Christianity alike must reckon with.
