In this paper the book of Exodus would be in dialogue with the work of Richard Lischer, especially his book A Theology of Preaching: The Dynamics of the Gospel, and with Charles L. Campbell, especially his book The Word Before the Powers: An Ethic of Preaching. Lischer's book outlines three theological movements in each sermon: analysis, transition, integration. I will explore how the book of Exodus informs the theology of preaching with a basic structure that mirrors these three movements. The book of Exodus begins with the enslavement of the Hebrew people, records their liberation in the exodus event, and concludes with a time in the wilderness that becomes God's opportunity to mold them into the people God intends them to be. Campbell argues for preaching that creates a community of resistance to the chaotic powers of creation. I will explore how the book of Exodus portrays the "plagues" as God's assault on Pharaoh, understood as the embodiment of the forces of chaos. Understanding these powers of chaos is part of the "analysis" movement in Lischer's interpretation of the theological movements in preaching. Freedom from these powers is part of the "transition" movement. I hope to examine how the book of Exodus enables us to flesh out these theological understandings of preaching.

The legal status of gerîm and of nåkhrîm and of the related peoples in Israel’s neighborhood (Edom, Ammon, Moab etc.) has been an issue of permanent discussion among scholars. One of the main questions is the amount of „exclusivism“ of „inclusivism“ in the traditions of the Pentateuch and the correlation between priestly, deuteronomistic and non-priestly/non-dtr layers. The debate concerns also the relation between Israel and remote foreign ethnic groups and the possibility of exogamic relations. From the point of view of the endtext of the Pentateuch we have two cases of exogamic relations with Midianites: Moses legally acknowlegded marriage to Zippora, whose children could even become Levites in the service of the sanctuary (1 Chr 23,15.17), and the case of illegal intercourse of Simri ben Salus with Kosbi (Num 25,5-18). The paper will discuss synchronic and diachronic aspects of the story as part of the Torah.

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For many citizens of the modern Western world, any direct encounter with suffering and mortality is a catastrophe. When directly touched by suffering and the reality of mortality, they feel they have been dealt a terrible blow, caught by surprise, struck out of the blue by catastrophe. Suffering and death may happen to other people with some regularity, but not to our family or to my body. Societal efforts to resist human frailty and finitude have succeeded so well that people have come to believe that suffering and death should not apply to them, despite every evidence to the contrary. Then, when pain does come, when life ceases to go according to plan, it seems unprecedented, unfair, and catastrophic. This modern autonomous self thus suffers the incongruously heightened vulnerability of an endangered illusory self-sufficiency, an illusion to which the gospel offers an alternative both truer and more fully human: baptized into the body of a suffering Lord, they unite in interdependence; their solidarity equips them to endure suffering; and their willingness to share the suffering of their neighbors obliges them to put their strength and resources at the disposal of others.

The book of Proverbs is noteworthy for condemning the practice of standing surety. Individual sayings warn against underwriting the loan of a stranger (6:1-5; 11:15; 20:16) or someone in the community (17:18). This paper will carefully examine the passages containing this advice, comparing the use of ‘rb (“to stand surety”) in Proverbs with other occurrences of the root in the Hebrew Bible and outside of it. The proverbial clusters in which these warnings appear will receive attention in order to determine if the advice against standing surety is qualified by proximate sayings. The caution in Proverbs will be read against narrative accounts in which the practice seems to be more acceptable. This paper will then compare the prohibition against surety in Proverbs with later advice found in Ben Sira (29:14-20) and 4QInstruction (several passages); this practice is encouraged with qualifications in the former text and discouraged in the latter. When evaluating all of these texts, it becomes clear that the uniform disapproval of surety in Proverbs reflects the pragmatic approach that so often marks this anthology, especially the acute concern with self-preservation and financial independence. The compilers of Proverbs seek to inculcate wariness about profit-seeking with strangers, but also with acquaintances (17:18). In searching for the social background for this advice, such content suggests that the audience for these sayings had sufficient material assets to engage in speculative lending and that the practice was widespread enough to warrant repeated admonitions. This would be most likely after the exile, especially since the discussion is later joined by both affluent voices (Ben Sira) and those in more desperate circumstances (4QInstruction).

In a famous talmudic passage, R. Meir muses on why the color blue was singled out for the thread of tzitzit? “Because blue resembles the sea, and the sea resembles the sky, and the sky resembles the sapphire stone, which resembles the Throne of Glory, as it says: ‘And they saw the God of Israel, and under His feet was the likeness of sapphire brick-work, like the very sky for purity’ (Exod 24:10)” (b. H?ulin 89a). And yet the talmudic discussion goes on to suggest that this vision that the elders of Israel experienced at the base of Sinai was a breach of boundaries no mortal man should have survived. This paper will explore the targum traditions (Onqelos, Neofiti, and Pseudo-Jonathan) on this verse in Exodus, and the narrative expansions in midrash on this vision of the “Throne of Glory”. It is linked with Ezekiel’s Ma‘aseh Merkabah (vision of the chariot, cf. Ezek 1:26), suggesting an intersection with early mystical Hekhalot literature. While the classic Aramaic Targum glosses over the anthropomorphism in the biblical verse, Pirqe de-Rabbi Eliezer and Tg. Ps.-Jon relate the vision back to the brick-work of the oppressive servitude in Egypt. A surprising parallel to the story is found in the description of the “second heaven” in Greek Apocalypse of Baruch (3 Baruch 3:5). I will argue that there are two exegetical traditions – an earlier one that elides over, or rather represses the possibility that there was a vision of “the God of Israel”, and another, later one, which links the theophany to a redemptive narrative. Does this transformation, from classic rabbinic literature to late midrash, reflect a shift in stance, one that embraces rather than rejects earlier mystical (perhaps even Gnostic) traditions?

Will discuss the role of Christian literary culture and the schools of learning in the easter Mediterranean.

Ancient Israel took into her theology the Sinai Covenant and allowed it to transform their ancient pagan customs into the practice of the nature of God alone.This paper will address the abolition of the custom of punishing children for fathers in II Kings 14:5-6 and what would be its wider hermeneutical implications in Rwanda before the 1994 genocide. In Israel, as else where in the Ancient Near East evidence shows that this custom had been practiced (Josh 7:24 ff.; Judg 21:10; I Sam 22:19; II Sam 21:6ff.; cf. Code of Hammurabi, par.210). However, Deut 24:16 and II Kings 14: 6 puts an end to this practice. In II Kings 14:5-6, Amaziah’s act in sparing the sons of his father’s murderers was a departure from the customary practice of blood revenge, a point duly emphasized by the Deuteronomist historiographer. From the phraseology the historiographer suggests that king Amaziah was guided by the Lord’s command as stated in the teaching of ‘The Book of Moses’ thereby allowing a surprising act of moderation in an ancient society where blood vengeance hitherto had been a common practice. Amaziah’s moderation or simply what YHWH had commanded Israel through Moses was a ‘Check Point’ to avert any potential future mass atrocity. I will use this understanding to critique the direct participation of the church of Rwanda in the 1994 genocide but also to provide a formulary hermeneutical interpretation of this scripture to the Rwandan Church. Equally, as there is evidence to indicate that ancient Israel initially practiced blood revenge, there is much evidence that the Church in Rwanda was at the center of genocide. Rather than being a passive mirror of reflecting tensions, the Church became more of an epicenter radiating tensions. In 1995 Mahmood Mamdan wrote: “Priests were among those who killed…UN Center for Human Rights claimed “strong evidence” that “about a dozen priests actually killed”…others accused of “supervising gangs of young killers”… “Father Munyashyaka sheltered eight thousand refugees in Sainte – Famille church…but later on called on the killers to come and pick those they wanted. How could it be that most major massacres of the genocide took place in churches? How could the church, usually associated with nurturing and the preservation of life instead be associated with mass atrocity? How could the church be a place where life was taken with impunity and facility?” African theologians like John S. Mbiti have previously argued that the Bible translated in local languages made African believers access the Word of God and could therefore apply it relevantly within their cultural settings to transform or confirm their cultural beliefs and practices. In an article Hilary B. P. Mijoga subscribes to this notion by underscoring how the Bible’s encounter with local cultural customs and practices has led to their transformation among women in the Malawi Society. While the Malawi society may not be representative of the society in Rwanda in particular and Africa in general, the process of turning the church into a place of settling scores and the direct participation in genocide of her clergy is not only horrendous but totally undermines the theory of the role of the Bible and its encounter in cultural transformation in Africa. The involvement of the Church in genocide raises very serious hermeneutical questions concerning II Kings 14:6,the sanctity of life and whether or not there is need for a new interpretation. My paper will employ a historical critical method in analyzing II Kings 14: 6 and the underlying concepts and ideologies based on insights of the historical critical method. I will first account for the change that took place in ancient Israel and then compare the context of ancient Israel with the context of Rwanda. I will use the change in ancient Israel to provide a formulary hermeneutical interpretation of this text in Rwanda.

The sociological approach is the cutting edge method for critically examining the forced migrations (exilic) period. This approach has been advocated by Robert Wilson and pioneered and appropriated by Daniel Smith-Christopher in his ground-breaking study on the 6th century B.C.E. Continuing in this tradition, two very important elements in migration studies are "displacement and resettlement." For the past three years, at the regional, national, and international levels, I have been presenting definitions and demarcating each of the distinctive displacement of Judah in 597, 587, and 582 as Derivative Forced Migrations and DIDPs, Purposive Forced Migration and IDPs, and Responsive Forced Migration and IDPs or Refugees. This comes from my larger work. For the next couple of years, I will be presenting from the second half of my study, namely, resettlement. When we begin to critically examine resettlement, we immediately begin to see the Judeans as forced (im)migrants living in Babylon. Karl Mannheim has helped scholars studying generations in a migration context by expanding on what is now known as a “generation-unit.” So I see a first, 1.5, second, and third generation Judeo-Babylonians in our exilic context—after all, the seventy years in Babylon actually represents three and a half generations since each generation constitutes twenty years (as the book of Numbers defines). I have already presented my thoughts on the first generation Judeo-Babylonians (“Ps 137: Complex Communal Complaints” JBL). In this presentation, I will introduce and expand on a new term for most biblical scholars, "the 1.5 generation Judeo-Babylonians." Envision the likes of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego. They were teens when they were taken to Babylon. They are neither first nor second generation. Moreover, we have the same transitional generation that gets overlooked. Caleb and Joshua never died in the wilderness—the stipulation was that all the first generation, including Moses would die, but our two transitional figures didn’t, as they led the second generation (born in the wilderness) into the promised land. There are clear imprints of this “in-between” 1.5 generation embedded in the memory of our tradents or editors. Jer 29 is none other than a text that was indeed produced by this in-between forgotten transitional 1.5 generation. Their hybridity of being both a Judahite and Babylonian is most assuredly attested in the genre that they found most affinity with, namely, a combination of letters and narratives with redactions.

I explore the popular television series Heroes in intertextual tension with biblical texts from Daniel, Revelation, and the gospels. As a serial narrative, Heroes cannot end and yet its story is impossible without the continual threat of an end of the world. In this it shares much with other recent popular TV series (as well as novels and comic books). However, this inability to end also connects these narratives with biblical narratives of the end, which are always "apocalypse without apocalypse," as Jacques Derrida said. Even in its ancient forms, this revelation that does not reveal is a postmodern phenomenon, as that which "puts forward the unpresentable in presentation itself" (Lyotard). However, it also raises the question of whether the endlessness of these ends is somehow connected to the polytheism that Heroes's story entails -- i.e., would a genuine (modernist) monotheism not require a single, absolute, and definitive end? -- and if that is so, then what does that tell us about the biblical texts in question? I draw upon the work of Philip Davies, Friedrich Nietzsche, Katherine Hayles, Roland Barthes, and Gilles Deleuze, among others.

The Epistle of Barnabas engages in extensive practices of scriptural interpretation, juxtaposing psalm texts, prophetic oracles, and the foundational narrative of Israel’s inheritance of the land of promise in order to “remember” Jesus’ passion and to locate its audience as the heirs of the covenant. The inscribed audience is said to possess knowledge of the past, wisdom for the present, and understanding for the future (5.3). This paper inquires into the poetics of Barnabas in order to understand how its producers and users practiced the composition of “wisdom” in relation to an apocalyptically delineated present. That is, how does Barnabas train an audience not only in the “wise” reading of the scriptures of Israel but also for the composition and performance of a scriptural memory that locates them, by virtue of Jesus’ passion, in the here and now as the inheritors of the covenantal promises? Attending to the poetics of composition and ritual performance in the text provides a point of entry into the modes of composition, performance, and transmission among a non-elite group of scriptural practitioners in the western Syrian context.

Some scholars are interested in Paul’s understanding of the meal because they argue that the beginnings of Christianity can be found within this social practice (H.Taussig). After M.Klinghardt’s and D.Smith’s studies on the subject, the scholarship adopted socio-historical methods (E. and W.Stegemann) to study meals, combined with archeological or anthropological data. Ritual theory was recently used to situate the Lord’s Supper within the Hellenistic meal. This paper combines socio-historical criticism and ritual theories to study Paul’s understanding of the Hellenistic meal and his utopian idea of the Lord’s Supper, thereby proposing a new method for studying meals: ritual-exegesis. Ritual-exegesis does not only describe the Lord’s Supper as a Hellenistic ritual but shows how Paul puts the ritual into a grammar of written and social practice (J.Lieu). Taking seriously that Paul thought about the social practice of the meal that he discussed, meal behavior and the meaning of it, leads to the conclusions that the texts themselves are products of a ritual practice, have a ritual implication and are therefore inevitably linked with the ritual as such (C.Strecker). The overall analysis is based on Gal 2, Rom 14, 1Cor 8-10 and 1Cor 11, where Paul discusses the participants and their behavior, the order, the sequence, the language and the objects and spaces of the meal. Out of these elements, the paper looks at the order of reclining and illustrates exegetically how Paul portrays the community as the body of Christ. Knowing that the order of reclining, as much as the other elements of the ritual, is related to social and religious tensions encourages one to understand the negotiation over the community as the body of Christ as part of the ritual. Paul’s participation in the social and religious negotiations can be revealed by the method of ritual-exegesis.

One of the distinctive features of Rabbinic Judaism was the development of the concept of the Torah she-be'al peh (Oral Torah). The Talmud records the teaching of Rabbis who taught that the Oral Torah, including hallakot related to the Sabbath, was originally given to Moses on Mt. Sinai and passed down orally to the Rabbis. The Rabbis believed that the Oral Torah had as much authority as the written Torah. The gospel of John include material related to the Sabbath that suggests the presence of the notion of the Oral Torah in the second Temple period. It presents Jesus as deliberately setting up conflicts related to Sabbath practices. His authority is contrasted with those who call themselves the “disciples of Moses” (John 28, 29). John presents a scenario where those who witnessed Jesus’ Sabbath acts either held to these incipient notions of Oral Torah and rejected Jesus’ claims or they accepted Jesus’ claims and rejected the authority of the “disciples of Moses.” This suggests that the gospel of John was written in a community that was well acquainted with Judaic halakot concerning the Sabbath but had rejected claims to Mosaic authority for those traditions.

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By setting apart a variety of culturally desirable foods in 14:26 as part of the tithe meal ritual, Deuteronomy creates a system that entices and encourages audiences to cast their allegiance with the Israelite group imagined in the Deuteronomic Law corpus. The foods and beverages, all of which are well known local products, appeal to the tastes of home. They also create a mechanism for newcomers and children to be initiated into the Israelite group. The items in Deut 14:26 are designated as treats from God for the people as a result of taking on the yoke of YHWH in place of Assyria or other “foreign” options. Eating together also functions to define them as Israelites by acting in the manner that Israelites should act according to the Deuteronomic law. This eating before YHWH therefore works to distance the Israelites from those absent, namely from those who might eat in the shade of an alternative deity or political structure. As has often been noted, communal consumption works to foster in-group identity. Furthermore, the festive meal ritual of Deut 14:22–27 includes an extravagant menu, marking the special nature of this meal and thereby making the meal a powerful mnemonic symbol for group identity construction. Recent cross-disciplinary studies provide significant insights about the functions of meals in "non-modern" societies, including the connection of taste and smell with memory so that a community’s constructed culture is decisive for the determination of which smells and tastes a person associates with important moments.

This paper examines slave characters and types in the fables attributed to Aesop, The Life, The Golden Ass, The Ass, and Characters to see if there are protocols of slavery used across different categories of literature that lead to the stereotype of the "industrious" slave. This paper will:1) offer a brief overview of my methodology - gender criticism; 2) present background information on the above texts; 3) describe the protocol for the “industrious” slave; and 4) respond to the following questions: i) is the protocol of the "industrious" slave apparent in the New Testament? ii) does the protocol of the "industrious" slave lead to the valorization of slavery in the New Testament? The New Testament character that this paper examines in order to assist in answering these questions is Dorcas of Acts 9:36-43. Along with the use of Greco-Roman literature, I use gender criticism to suggest that the protocol of the "industrious" slave promotes an image of slavery that leads to the adoption of the metaphor of slavery in Christian terminology as the proper relationship that one should have with Christ and G-O-D.

Forced migration diminishes a community’s resources and security, increases mortality and morbidity, and alters social relationships and identities. These effects are evident in modern and ancient communities, including 6th century Judah and its prophetic literature. This paper applies literary and comparative methods to the visions and oracles of Zechariah 1–8 to examine how they reflect and address the social realities of exile and survival.

This paper will review my experience teaching a master’s level online course on the Dead Sea Scrolls. The course was a graduate elective for students with no knowledge of Hebrew. Participating students enrolled from four states and three time zones. Using BlackBoard as a platform, this class employed a number of distance delivery tools: Voice over PowerPoint lectures, Discussion Boards, Illuminate live classroom sessions, and online testing. Since the course was a seminar, the distance methodologies used were different than other graduate courses. Skype was employed for virtual office hours. While this particular graduate seminar course was conducted completely online, my institution now strongly encourages the use of hybrid courses for many other classes as well. In a hybrid course, about 70% of the student contact time is conducted in a traditional classroom with the remaining 30% online. This year I taught undergraduate Bible introductions as well as upper division courses for religion majors. This paper will explore the pros and cons of the online and hybrid formats

Aspects of historicity in the Gospel of John have been displaced by historical problems besetting the interpreter, not the least of which include striking differences with the Synoptics and a highly theological presentation of Jesus as the Christ. While John's theological tensions have been addressed dialectically -- providing a way forward, John's historical tensions have not. Ironically, this oversight reflects primarily the failure of modern interpreters to consider the character of historiography as highly dialectical, in and of itself. This paper will explore several dialectical aspects of history (cognitive-reflective, social-dialogical, and literary-rhetorical) as core elements of any historiographic work, and then it will show how a critical analysis of the Fourth Gospel as dialectical history solves some problems while creating new ones.

This paper treats two related aspects of the Self-Glorification Hymn in two parts. The first briefly revisits the scholarly debate over the identity of the mysterious speaker. On the basis of comparable language referring to priests in other sectarian documents, it is argued that he is best identified as an exalted priestly figure. But is the speaker to be understood as a purely eschatological figure destined to arrive in the imminent future? Or, as Morton Smith has claimed, was he a present member of the community who had undergone some type of extraordinary experience? The second part of the paper argues that while the majority of scholars are correct to view the speaker of the Hymn as “eschatological,” they may be incorrect in their claim that the speaker is a figure reserved for the future. Rather, the speaker was likely a member of the Qumran community who should be considered “eschatological” only inasmuch as the liturgical experience allowed him to escape linear historical time and take a seat among the angels. This argument is supported chiefly through a comparison of the language used in connection with the speaker in the “Canticle of Michael” (4Q491 11 I, 8-18) to that linked to the righteous liturgical community in the “Canticle of the Righteous” (4Q491 11 I, 20-24), which has been largely ignored in research related to the identity of the Self-Glorification Hymn’s speaker. Internal comparison of the two canticles in both recensions reveals a special affinity between the speaker and the liturgical community. It is found that the psalmist and the community mirror each other, sharing in three interrelated experiences: exalted heavenly status, suffering, and access to divine knowledge. The speaker, by summoning the righteous community to worship, is evidently leading them to an experience of heavenly glorification comparable to his own.

Daniel 4, one of the folkloric tales (Dan 1-6) that likely reflects the hardships imposed on Jews in the Diaspora by their Persian overlords, provides words of hope and resistance to those colonized both in ancient and modern times. The text accomplishes this by lampooning the colonizers. For example, in Dan 4 the Great Nebuchadnezzar, who boasts that he has “mighty power,” and “glorious majesty” (30), and who, in his dream, is represented as a tree reaching into the heavens that provides fruit, shade, housing, and food for all living beings” (10-12) will be cut down to size (23). Nebuchadnezzar’s self-understanding as the great benefactor is not shared by his Jewish subjects. In reality, Nebuchadnezzar’s wealth is not of his own making but a result of his ability to pirate the fruits of the colonized—the land, food production, and human power. Nebuchadnezzar rules his Empire as a vulture searching for goods on which to grasp in order to fill his insatiable appetite for power. This is revealed in Daniel’s rhetoric. As the king receives his punishment and transforms from human to a carrion bird, he becomes in the animal kingdom his role in the human kingdom (32-33). This imagery underscores the predatory nature of Persian domination and colonization in general. I will read the rhetoric of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream (4:10-12) and punishment (4:32-33) within the socio-political context of the Persian Period, focusing on the ways Persians acquired wealth from the colonized in subtle and not so subtle ways. To unpack the complexities of Empire, especially in today’s Global economy, I will dialogue with Indian scholar Vandana Shiva, a leader of the International Forum on Globalization, and others social scientists and postcolonial biblical scholars who, like Daniel when confronting Nebuchadnezzar (4:27), hope that Imperialists will transform into just, and merciful nations.

Moshe Idel has written much on Hekhalot literature that has influenced the study of religious experience. This review of his work will address numerous texts in both Hebrew and English, including his work on Enoch-Metatron and other Hekhalot themes.

In the often-uncertain game of dating literature from the second temple period, scholars will often attempt to find argumentative leverage wherever they can find it, occasionally building cases for given date on relatively questionable grounds. This particular phenomenon can be seen, for example, in debates about the date of composition for Wisdom of Solomon. Almost thirty years ago, David Winston introduced a lexicographical argument to support a first-century dating of the document. According to Winston, some thirty-five words and phrases found in Wisdom of Solomon could not be located in secular Greek literature prior to the first century CE, at least as used in the same sense as the author of Wisdom employs them. At the time, Winston alleged that “so large a number of such words” provided “very strong evidence” that Wisdom could not predate the Augustan period and furthermore asserted that his tabulation showed it “very likely” to be written in the first half of the first century CE. In the nearly three decades since Winston compiled the list, it has served frequently as one of the few pieces of evidence marshaled forth by those scholars who support a first-century dating and has been noted even by those who do not. One finds the argument repeated in both specialized studies and in influential introductory treatments like those of Collins, deSilva, Nickelsburg, and VanderKam. What no scholar on either side of the issue has yet done, it seems, is to double-check Winston’s tabulation. The primary contribution of this study is to rebut Winston's claim by demonstrating the vast majority of his alleged "first occurrences" to be either incorrect, intentionally misleading, or insignificant in debates over the date of composition. Attention will also be given to the seminal work of Larcher and Scarpat (the most significant French and Italian studies, respectively) because of their similar dependence upon arguments from vocabulary. In short, the study proposed aims at permanently altering the way scholars discuss Wisdom's date by refuting a decades-old argument that should have never been tabled.

Since the appearance of James Barr’s Semantics of Biblical Language (1961), with its scathing critique of early twentieth-century philological practice (or malpractice), there has remained a lingering unease among many biblical scholars regarding the place of philology in their work. This is especially true within the discipline of New Testament studies, in which an ongoing divide between linguistics and classical philology has perpetuated a climate of chaos (even conflict) regarding the place and practice of philology. Because of the uniquely communal nature of the philological/lexicographical task, however, such lack of consensus (or presence of conflict) is especially deleterious to philology’s (rather vital) forward progress. It would seem, then, that if there is to be a future for philology, some new, basic consensus on the nature of language and the determination of word meaning(s) must be forged. Surprisingly, however, very few mediating proposals have yet been offered.

This paper draws on cognitive linguistics to explore the radial category nature of Go’el?as paried with Holy One of Israel in Deutero-Isaiah and the thematic commonalties of the passages involved. The earthly office of Go’el exhibits a radial structure of four models that entail several senses of the concept the people of Israel associated with the office of redeemer, these are: 1) Pentateuchal Model; 2) Royal Model; 3) Marital Model; and 4) Avenger Model. Pertinent to the discussion is the way in which Isaiah extends the title by pairing Go’el with the Holy One of Israel six times in chapters 41, 43, 47, 48, 49, and 54 suggesting Go’el fulfills a sacred office with spiritual connotations of deliverance associated with restoring the broken covenant relationship between Yahweh and his people. A fifth structural component to the sacred office, the Holiness Model, is proposed which suggests a five model radial structure for the overall category of Go’el.

The life in exile, without the Jerusalem temple or political independence required great spiritual innovation and sophisticated theological explanations in order to continue to observe the old traditions. Prophets such as second Isaiah and Ezekiel dealt with these issues. The most common approach was the promise of near redemption. Ezekiel attempted to establish the theology of divine presence in exile through the image of the mobile chariot in Ezek 1, and by assuring them a reduced presence among them in exile (Ezekiel 11:16). Psalms 127 and 133 offer temporary substitutes for the living in Judah in the vicinity of Jerusalem, until the Temple was rebuilt. In Psalm 127 the psalmist suggests that instead of building the Temple the people should invest their energies in the developing and building the family unit, and raising children while they are young, for the future of the nation. Psalm 127 places family values as a temporary substitute for the Temple in its absence. As a substitute for living in Judah in the vicinity of Jerusalem and the Temple, the psalmist, in Psalm 133, suggests that those living in exile band together as a group and to enjoy living together as a community. Thus values of family and community were suggested by these psalms as a temporal alternative for the devastated Temple, whose rebuilding the people were still impatiently waiting for. These values were adopted fully by the people, those that returned to Yehud were reluctant to rebuild the temple, and preferred to strengthen their own homes. It was now Haggai's objective to place the temple as first priority.

Many recent discussions of the "historicity" of elements of the Johannine narrative do not consider the literary framework and generic conventions within which the Gospel may be operating. This paper will explore the topic by considering the theoretical discussion of historiography (Lucian, How to Write History) and the programmatic statements of authors telling tales of the past. To find out how this relates to the Fourth Gospel, you will have to come to the paper.

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This paper will examine constructed narratives of the founding of the modern state of Israel in American films, from the romanticized beginnings of nationhood films, Exodus (1960) and Cast a Giant Shadow (1966), to the Israeli version of Sesame Street. My intention is to compare Hollywood’s mirroring of the mythic pioneering films of the settling of the American West to the settling of Israel, as well as the ways in which these films gave Americans a strong connection to the state of Israel’s “struggle for independence.” With stars such as Paul Newman and Eva Marie Saint (Exodus) and Kirk Douglas, Yul Brunner, John Wayne, and Frank Sinatra (Cast a Giant Shadow), it is difficult for the American viewer to separate these films from American war stories, larded with Hollywood passion and romance. The second part of the paper deals with contemporary made for TV films, e.g, Israel: Birth of a Nation, Against All Odds Israel Survives, and Israel in a Time of Terror. Primarily made for the History Channel and the A&E networks, these polemic films are all told from an Israeli point of view. Thus, they keep an American audience securely believing in one constant narrative: the struggle of innocent Israel against its Arab foes, none of whom are interviewed or presented in any setting other than bloody attempts at conquest.

Scholars have often considered the geographical structure of Mark 1-8 part and parcel of Mark’s theological landscape; Marxsen (1956) goes so far as to consider ‘Galilee’ important in Mark primarily as a redactional device. But the pronounced specificity of the Lake Region in especially Mark 1-8, by which I mean the concentration here of proper names otherwise unimportant in Mark’s Gospel (as Bethsaida, 6:45; 8:22, and Gennesaret, 6:53) or simply unknown (as Dalmanutha, 8:10), seems to me not compassed by this explanation. This paper will argue, first, by linguistic and literary analysis, that the geographical residue of Mark 1-8 coheres and, second, by social memory theory, that its coherence consists not in a redactional agenda or a pre-Markan literary catenae but rather in a particular memory of Jesus ‘fastened’ on the 'definite place' of Galilee’s Lake Region. By its candid and consistent attention to this place, I suggest that Mark 1-8 commemorates a particular profile of Jesus, marginalized, perhaps, but still influential in Mark’s masterful act of reception.

Adella Yarbro Collins, The Combat Myth (1976, 2001) concludes (84) that “Revelation 12 reflects the pattern of the Leto myth, but in such a way that the goddess has been assimilated to the high-goddess Isis.” I agreed (Roman Domestic Art [2008], chap. V) and observed that the Isis myth was visually represented by the Io, Hermes, Argos myth, which was painted in the House of Livia on the Palatine, as well as in the Temple of Isis, the market, and several houses in Pompeii. Nicias, an artist well known in Ephesus, painted the original visual representation of Io; therefore, the image would have been known not only in Rome and Pompeii, but also in Ephesus, one of the churches to which John was writing. The verbal image sketched by the author of Revelation subverted a visual Imperial conflict myth. Last fall I discovered that other visual representations confirm these hypotheses: the cult statues in the most important temple in the Empire, the Temple to Apollo that Augustus built next to his own house on the Palatine are of Leto, Artemis, Apollo and the humble Sibyl. The Base di Sorrento preserves images of these Imperial cult statues.

The words ]PRŠNW MRWB H?[ from MMT, often read as a self testimony for a schism from the rest of the nation, stand at the heart of many discussions concerning the composition of MMT. Furthermore, it is often taken as the Qumran community’s self-perception of their relationship with the other Jewish fractions: “we have separated ourselves from the multitude/majority of the people”. However, it is not always remembered that this reading is based on a restoration of what proceeds and what follows these forms. In my paper I would like to propose an alternative restoration, based on a careful linguistic examination of this sentence in its context, as well as on a variety of inter-textual considerations, directly and indirectly relevant to deciphering the original clause. Based on the uses of the root PRŠ in Middle Hebrew and in the Aramaic, I will demonstrate that a more reliable reading of this sentence should read it in the context of a separation form the rest of the nations. This invites us to more carefully consider the notions of separation in second temple Judaism and its vestiges in later rabbinical texts. Such a reading would fit previous scholarship dealing with the context in which this sentence appears in MMT.

An ancient line of interpretation of Qohelet 3:1-8, attested in Jerome’s Commentary and in Qohelet Rabbah, relates each of the paired times in this poem to historical events in the history of Israel, with a correlation between these opposites and the swings in Israel’s fortunes between times of captivity and exodus, exile and return. We could modify the rabbis’ and Jerome’s reading to find here not the record of God’s historical actions, but the imprint on Qohelet’s language of Israel’s historical experiences, and of the reflection on those experiences within previous biblical tradition. A number of the images in the poem have a well-developed exegetical trajectory within the Hebrew Bible and in other texts of early Judaism as traditional motifs in the telling of the national story. When we take together all the echoes of historical memory in this poem, we find a web of integrated allusions which resonate with the argument of the passage, and which suggest that the experiencing consciousness voiced by the author of Qohelet is not a dehistoricized isolated individual consciousness, but one which speaks from within the context of the nation’s community, scriptures and traditions.

This paper examines how Joel 2:12-17 creatively shifts the onus for acting appropriately from the hearing community to YHWH. It considers how the prophet imaginatively employs the concept of “turning” to try to bring about divine response. It first builds off of the threefold occurrence of the root šub in this passage. The first two occurrences are directed at the audience, imploring them to “turn” in the wake of the devastation prophesied in the coming of the day of YHWH from the previous passage. The text sets up the “turning” of the people as one of the factors that might persuade YHWH to “turn” in response and to bring restoration rather than calamity. This paper then examines the prophet’s creative shaping of divine character in this passage as a strategy of shifting pressure on YHWH to respond. It builds upon the character credo from Exodus 34:6-7 quoted in Joel 2:14, which the prophet uses artistically to instruct his audience to engage in acts and speeches of supplication, that demonstrate their commitment to a full “turning.” The rhetorical effect of the construction of this argument is to shift the onus for acting from the community to YHWH himself, whom the text now challenges to “turn” in return. The text creatively employs appeals to YHWH as strategies to have him acknowledge the actions of the community and to act restoratively in the midst of desperate circumstances. This paper then argues that this interplay of human and divine “turning” creates the context for the divine response of Joel 2:18-27.

This paper explores how the use of the Shema in John's Gospel is instrumental in developing the identities of two groups of actors: Jews who believe in Jesus and Jews who do not. Equally important, John's use of the Shema distinguishes those John considers true believers from false believers. While the Shema is not quoted directly in John, my contention is that its themes, theology, and key words and concepts are woven throughout the Johannine narrative and help define both John's Christology and the shape of his community of Jesus believers. What emerges in John is not the construction of Christian identity vs. Jewish identity; this notion is both simplistic and anachronistic. Instead, we see in John two (and sometimes more) groups of Jews drawing upon the Shema, the central feature of Jewish prayer and belief, to create boundary lines demarcating insiders and outsiders, defining who belongs to the covenant people and who does not. This polemicizing of Jewish liturgical features draws upon the classic works of J. Louis Martyn, Alan Segal and Daniel Boyarin to shed new light on the complexity of the Fourth Gospel and early relationships between emerging Jewish and Christian groups.

Immediately following Acts 15’s climactic apostolic accord deeming unnecessary the circumcision of Gentile converts but imperative that they follow fundamental behavioral guidelines, the circumcision of Timothy by Paul seems to inspire in scholars fascination and ambivalence in equal measure. A difficult passage to incorporate within the wider narrative of Acts and even Paul’s own testimony, 16:1-5 brings to the forefront the complexities of ethnic discourse. In this paper, I argue that this passage engages directly in ethnic discourse that plays upon Timothy’s disputed ethnicity. His mixed heritage is an immediate test of the preceding chapter’s consensus that Gentile converts were not required to follow the full strictures of Judaism, yet the text exhibits no dissonance between this theological compromise and Paul’s circumcision of Timothy. In contrast, scholarly efforts to disentangle the ethnic reasoning behind this passage demonstrate unease with the pliability and constructed nature of ethnic identities. After discussing the passage’s history of interpretation, the complexity surrounding the proper translation in Acts of the ethnic appellation Ioudaios, and the ambivalent function of circumcision as a marker of ethnicity, I argue that Luke’s Paul engages precisely in that definitive ethnic discourse that posits the rigidity of ethnic distinctions yet admits their pliability. Asking whether Timothy was a Gentile or a Jew creates a simple binary where ethnic complexity actually exists. From Luke’s perspective, Timothy’s ethnicity is concrete and embodied but also pliable and negotiable. In significant ways, Timothy is both Jew and Hellene; he dwells in a complex ethnic space created by his Jewish mother and Hellene father. This analysis also begins to demonstrate that Acts aims not to eradicate ethnic and racial differences under a homogenizing Christian identity but to demonstrate how the flexibility of ethnic identities played a critical function in the spread of the Jesus movement.

Much of our success in solving Septuagint text critical problems depends on our ability to look at how the Greek translator dealt with a particular word or tense throughout their work. In the past, this has involved manually going through the translator’s work to find every occurrence of a particular idiosyncrasy. This is then followed by collating all this information into a workable data management system of some kind. There are so many idiosyncrasies in each biblical book that this data often becomes unmanageable, especially when it multiplied over the scale of several biblical books. With the digitalization of the Göttingen Septuagint this will all change. We will be able to run full search inquiries and sift through the data at a much more rapid pace. Our database will already be built based on the years of scholarship put into the Göttingen Septuagint, resulting in not just the ability to quickly find translator-specific traits, but also the ability to solve text critical issues between Septuagint manuscripts. Consequently, we will be able to develop a new methodology that involves looking deeper into current text critical problems, plus examining previously unexamined issues.

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The Epistle of Barnabas preserves the earliest explicit Christian notice of the demise of the temple, and thus it serves as an important index of the early Christian attitudes toward the fall of the temple. This paper will focus on the response of the author of the Ep. Barn. to the destruction of the temple, paying careful attention to the way in which the theology of temple is presented in Ep. Barn. An analysis of various key texts in Ep. Barn., such as the so-called "stone testimonia," show that the author's attitude toward the temple is one of “opposition and replacement.” Moreover, far from being an alien imposition on earliest Christianity, it will be argued that this mindset of "opposition and replacement" goes back to Jesus himself, at least as he is presented in the fourfold gospels.

John H. Elliott observes in his commentary on 1st Peter (2000) that patristic writers show more interest in 1 Pet 3:1-6, which includes instruction to wives not to adorn themselves, than they do in other texts that one might anticipate would interest them, such as those dealing with Christological and soteriological issues. This paper explores the church fathers’ treatment of women’s adornment in the context of the economic roles of jewellery and clothing for ancient women in general. Gems, hairpieces, and fine clothes were important forms of portable wealth for women in antiquity, and as scholars have made clear, many rich women were supporters of individuals and communities within the early church. The paper will argue that patristic criticism of women’s adornment, which is more intensified than the criticism found in the New Testament, must be understood not only as a reflection of the generally negative view of wealth display as well of as the standard attitude that ideally women be modest and unadorned, but in light of the complicated issues of women’s economic roles in the early church.

Canon is a fluid term in the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church (EOTC). Although critical scholars and members of the EOTC often claim an 81 book canon, the reality is much more complex than that. Ethiopian Bibles printed in the United States look much like Protestant Bibles with their abbreviated canon, and the Ethiopian liturgical cycle of readings evidences only that abbreviated canon. How, then, do the many remaining books act as “canon” in the EOTC? This paper will engage scholarship as well as interviews with EOTC clergy in America to investigate how two specific books in the larger Ethiopian canon, Enoch and Jubilees, function within the life of the EOTC today.

This paper will chart the terrain of feminist parable interpretation, beginning with the question of why interpret the parables of the synoptic tradition from a feminist perspective. The germinal works of Mary Ann Beavis (_The Lost Coin_, 2002) and Luise Schottroff (_The Parables of Jesus_, 2006) will be situtated within the fields of feminist biblical interpretation and parable studies. The paper will conclude with suggestions for future directions in feminist parable studies.

The idea of the paper is to look at 2 Cor 3:4-18 and Mk 9:2-9 comparatively. Both texts deal with similar metaphors: the Mose-figur and the motif of transfiguration (2 Cor 3:18; Mk 9:2). But both texts do not only vary in terms of their literary form, but also in respect to their pre-texts, coming from Exodus-tradition (Ex 34; 24). The question is how these types of Exodus-reception also coin different types of theology that stand in the background of Paul's and Mark's Mose-interpretation. By suggesting such a comparative analysis of Paul and Mark, the paper also aims at a fresh approach to Pauline studies.

Current tranlsations of arsenokoitai in 1 Corinthians 6:9 as "sodomites" (NJB, NKJ, NRS), "homosexuals" (NAS, NAU, NLT) "homosexual offenders" (NIV), "homosexual pervert" (GNB/TEV), ""behaves like a homosexual"(CEV) and "practicing homosexuals" (NET, ESV, NAB, TNIV) have been increasingly challenged as inaccurate. The wide range in translations of the preceding Greek term malakoi as "effeminate" (ASV, KJV, NAS, NAU), "sexual pervert" (RSV), "self-indulgent" (NJB), "men who practice homosexuality" (ESV), "homosexuals" (NKJ), "boy prostitutes (NAB), "male prostitutes" (NIV, NLT, NRS, TNIV) and "passive homosexual partner" is equally problematic. This study seeks to examine malakoi and arsenokoitai in Hellenistic Greek usage and Greco-Roman moralists with a view to determining accuracy in translation and Paul’s relationship to the social norms of his day.

The story of Dinah and Shechem in Genesis 34 involves interlocking issues of philology, sex, law, cultural diversity, history, feminist ideology, etic vs. emic approaches, and ethics, just to name a few! Many of these issues have been explored at great length in a number of scholarly articles. One avenue of exploration, however, remains largely untouched. Although the possibility that what happened was an attempted marriage by abduction was suggested by Joseph Fleishman, a variant -- consensual “marriage by abduction”-- is also discussed in the anthropological journals, as well as on various internet sites. Examples of this phenomenon can be found in literature as well as in anthropological studies of twentieth century cultures in various parts of Asia and Africa that were largely untouched by modernity. In some instances ethnic difference also comes into play, making such examples even more pertinent to the story of Dinah and Shechem. Several Hebrew Bible scholars including Thomas Overholt (Anthropology and the Old Testament), Charles E. Carter and Carol Meyers (Community, Identity, and Ideology: Social Science Approaches to the Hebrew Bible), and Bernhard Lang (Anthropological Approaches to the Old Testament) have suggested the usefulness of anthropological approaches to biblical interpretation. This paper attempts to mine this approach to shed light on the vexed interpretative questions that arise from the story of Dinah and Shechem.

The late Catherine Bell has stated that the process of ritualization was not so much to integrate the individual into a given environment, but to change the environmental dynamics so that the integration (or conversely, disintegration) of the social body may occur. In other words, the rituals changed the environment, not the other way around. These changes would have been experienced by the individual through his or her sensory awareness. In the modern world, we are most familiar with ritualized sensory awarenesses through vision or hearing. Yet the other senses are commonly manipulated to bring about certain results as well. In ancient Israel, while the text concerning the cultic ritual system is primarily studied through a visually oriented approach (spatiality between objects, description of height or length, color, type of animal, etc), certain cultic events would have had an extensive olfactory element. Three ritualized events, in particular, could be understood better by recognizing the role of scent in their enacting: 1) the slaughtering, dressing and then burning of an animal, 2) the offering of incense, 3) the anointing of the priests. By recognizing the role of scent manipulation in these three ritual behaviors of ancient Israel, and the processes in which they were manipulated, I believe that we can gain insight into one of the primary purposes of the cultic ritual system: to facilitate the bridging of the divine and the mortal worlds.

The works of Dodd and Jeremias on the parables have traditionally represented the pursuit of determining the meaning of the parables apart from the influence of the early church. However, parables should also be examined for their value within their narrative context, especially concerning a parable’s own explanation in the text. In light of this, the discrete elements of the parable, its explanation, and its context should all be explored for the way they contribute to the communication of the parable within Matthew’s gospel as a whole. Taking two similar Matthean parables whose accompanying explanations have often been labeled as additions, this study analyzes how Matthew uses angels’ gathering and collecting activity to help explain the Parable of the Weeds (Matt 13:24-30, 36-43) and the Parable of the Net (Matt 13:47-50). Evoking traditional Jewish apocalyptic scenes of judgment and punishment, angels in these parables help make the coming judgment vivid and compelling. Consequently, in the brief explanations of the two parables, Matthew draws on apocalyptic tradition to emphasize the power of God’s judgment and his continued activity. This enables him to portray God’s ultimate victory while reminding readers that the conviction of God’s future activity does not imply the absence of it in the present. Rather, the finality and inescapability of the future judgment remind the reader of the divine mercy which characterizes Jesus’ message of the kingdom.

Both Noble Drew Ali (founder of the Moorish Science Temple) and the Elijah Muhammad (the leader of the Nation of Islam for four decades) devoted significant attention to the story of Jesus. Surprisingly, he figured far more prominently in their writings than did Muhammad. Even more surprisingly, a comparison of those stories with the stories of Jesus in the Qur’an and the Bible reveals that both Drew Ali and Elijah Muhammad felt no need to conform to these traditional accounts. Their primary goal was to refashion the figure of Jesus to fit their racialist mythology. Drew Ali merely sought to make Jesus “Asiatic” in order to demonstrate that African Americans should abandon the racially inappropriate religion of Christianity. Elijah Muhammad, who self-identified himself as a Muslim far more and was well-versed in the Qur'an, did not adopt or even adapt much of the Qur’an's own reinterpretation of the biblical Jesus. He even ignored its key claim that Jesus was not crucified. Ironically, he was much more ambivalent with the traditional Christian understanding of Jesus; while seemingly ignoring the biblical accounts, he constantly alluded to them in order to undermine them. His story of Jesus served as a parable for the evilness of the "white devil" and the futility and danger of Christianity for African Americans.

The identity of the suffering servant figure in Deutero-Isaiah remains a matter for debate. This paper explores the role played by the exile in finding a solution to this important question.

Two significant Bible translations have appeared in Sweden. The first to be published in full was Svenska Folkbibeln, “The People’s Bible.” Although published first (1998), the translation of Folkbibeln did not begin until after the commencement of the translation of the second Bible, Bibel 2000. Folkbibeln came about in large part as a reaction to Bibel 2000, which was sponsored by an official government Bible Commission and was to be the 3rd official Bible of the Swedish State Church. The translation of Bibel 2000 began in 1973, with the New Testament being published in 1981. Rather than being well-received by one of its primary target audiences, “many Christians felt uneasy about the strong historical-critical element found in both the translation and the footnotes.” The influence of the historical-critical method of the Bible Commission’s efforts became even more apparent in the translation of the Old Testament, which became available to the public in fascicles prior to the printing of the entire Bible. Although the historical-critical method had already influenced the 1917 Bible, Bibel 2000 caused a significant stir within the religious-confessional community of Sweden, which resulted in their organizing to produce Svenska Folkbibeln. In this paper, we will examine how the historical-critical and religious-confessional approaches have influenced Swedish Bible translation. We will focus on passages which have been categorized as “figural” and “prophetic,” comparing Folkbibeln and Bibel 2000 against each other and against the Hebrew text. Reference will also be made to the two previous official Swedish translations---the Vasa Bible of 1541 and the 1917 Bible.

I wish to investigate a particular type of social resistance: the resistance to empire and imperial domination. How can individuals and communities resist empires? First, we must understand how empires operate, and how imperial goals and strategies shape those whom the empire dominates. Biblical scholarship, however, does not have a unified theory of empire or a single approach to imperial domination. This paper will examine a range of different social-scientific understandings of empire, such as structural-functional, Marxist, world-systems, material, ideological, and other approaches. Using these different theories of empire, we will explore the possible shapes of resistance, and consider how these types of resistance might have operated within ancient Israel and may be reflected within extant texts. Disentangling these types of resistance can help biblical scholarship find greater clarity about its claims of resistance within Yehud and other ancient imperial settings.

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While the literary-historical relationship of Isa 36-39 to 2 Kgs 18:13-20:21 remains at stake in a battle royal, present-day research of the book of Isaiah has come to the conclusion that chs. 36-39 play a substantial role in the overall structure of this prophetic book. This is more evident, however, for chs. 36-37 than for ch. 38 and ch. 39, for there is ample proof that the three stories of the Isaianic composition offer somewhat divergent pictures of king Hezekiah. The picture offered in chs. 36-37 is most suited for the closure of the first part of the book of Isaiah, the picture offered in ch. 38 requires more of hermeneutics in order to serve the same purpose, yet the picture offered in ch. 39 is quite enigmatic, in light of both the preceding and the following chapters. The paper focuses on the latter two chapters, starting from the following construction question: do these chapters owe their present place in the book mainly to the fact that they belong to an earlier complex of stories about king Hezekiah or could the final redaction of the book have further considered them to be appropriate in order to add specific traits to the image of the king who represents, anyhow, the counterpart of king Ahaz (ch. 7)?

The ancient Israelite prophets draw from a wide range of metaphors in depicting the depravity, imminent danger, and coming destruction of Israel and Judah. One stereotypical image used by the prophets to elicit fear and remorse from their audience is the contrast of swift, physically dominant warriors with the feeble, stumbling victims of military conquest. For example, Isaiah describes the coming Assyrian invaders as alert and speedy, none of them weak or stumbling (5:26-27), while their victims are unable to flee because they stumble to the ground and are thus snared and killed (8:15). This paper will explore the rhetorical effects of the prophetic description of physical impairment as an immediate cause of defeat and destruction. In some passages, stumbling and falling is evidence of Israel’s moral deficiency, such as Hosea’s description of the people “stumbling in their guilt” (5:5). The inability of victims to flee from destruction can also be caused by their fear response in the face of fierce warriors (e.g., Nahum 2:10). Most strikingly, however, the prophets depict God as directly impairing victims so that they will not be able to escape the wrath that is coming their way (e.g., Isaiah 28:13; Jeremiah 6:21). Similar to their metaphorical use of other disabilities such as blindness and deafness, the prophets associate mobility impairment with the weak and sinful qualities of the Israelites, while strength, speed, and “lightness of foot” are the possession of the righteous and of victorious conquerors.

Recent currents in the dating of Acts call for a re-evaluation of the textual and historical relationship between Pliny’s famed correspondence with Trajan about the Christians and the canonical Acts of the Apostles. A re-examination finds that both texts share specific elements: 1) economic disruption as the impetus for arrests, 2) the arresting official’s puzzled response and inquiry for legal advice from a political superior, 3) official pressure for the accused to face actual charges in a proper trial, 4) a presiding official’s ridicule of Roman Christians as mindless, and 5) the remittance of Roman Christians to the capital for trial. Additionally, a lawyer named Tertullus appears in Acts, an uncommonly attested name in the late 1st, early 2nd century. This name happens to be identical with one of Pliny’s closest friends, the lawyer Cornutus Tertullus, who also succeeded Pliny as imperial legate of Bithynia-Pontus. These parallels do not reach the level of verbatim literary dependence, but rather point to indirect dependence. The evidence also shows that the author of Acts sought to customize his narrative to help Christians deal wisely with the social-historical situation in Asia Minor around the 110s that Pliny describes and helped to create. This lends further support to the aforementioned recent trends in the dating of Acts to the early 2nd century.

Irenaeus in his polemic against his opponents appeals to a variety of writings at his disposal in order to ensure a compelling argument. The literature cited or alluded to, since he writes to aid a member of his community could reflect a collection accepted not just by him, but also the Catholic Christians of Gaul. Also, since he has his origin in Asia Minor, under the tutelage of Polycarp, and has represented his community and the Asian one before Rome, this collection might represent a more broadly assembly of recognized books. This assembly of literature included, of course, books within the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament as well as apocryphal and non-canonical texts (e.g., Wisdom, Susanna, Baruch, 4 Esdras, Hermas, Infancy Gospel of Thomas [?]). This paper will study the way in which Irenaeus uses apocryphal and non-canonical texts to aid his polemic, the manner in which he represents their place in the community’s structure of authority, and compare his engagement with these texts to the manner in which he handles texts from the Hebrew Bible and New Testament.

In the early years of his patriarchate, Cyril of Alexandria played a pivotal role in a violent altercation between the Jews and Christians of Alexandria that resulted in the expulsion of a significant number of Jews from the city and the Christian usurpation of several synagogues. Around the same time, Cyril composed what are probably his first two writings, On Adoration and Worship in Spirit and Truth and the Glaphyra, both of which are exegetical works on the Pentateuch. In these texts Cyril furnishes a figural reading of the cultic law of Moses whose scope and thoroughness are unprecedented in the prior Christian exegetical tradition. Although neither text is an unrelieved anti-Jewish tract, throughout both Cyril evinces a propensity to conceive of the Mosaic law as a cryptogram of the dire moral state of the Jewish people post Christum. In this paper I will examine one salient feature of Cyril’s anti-Jewish interpretation of the law, namely, his exegetical treatment of the Mosaic category of pollution. According to Cyril, the law of Moses itself, if understood properly (that is to say, spiritually), exposes the Jews as the polluted people par excellence. Conversely, the Christians are imaged by those Israelites who maintain a state of purity and thus have access (to varying degrees) to the presence of God localized in the tabernacle. This figural correlation between the Jews and those who are polluted and hence excluded from the sacred precincts forms a constitutive element of the discourse of Jewish space that Cyril forges in these works; the pollution of the Jews entails, among other things, their spatial segregation from the church of the Gentiles, which basks in the presence of God. Indeed, Cyril consistently characterizes Jewish space as marginal, penumbral, and estranged from the presence of God and God’s people. Such a discourse takes on distinctly socio-political overtones in light of the ascendancy of the church in the era of Theodosius II, during which Jews in the Roman Empire were increasingly subject on the one hand to the expropriation of their synagogues by Christian mobs, as the incident from Cyril’s early career illustrates, and the curtailment of their participation in civic life, as evidenced by the rhetoric and substance of Roman Jewry law, on the other. For this reason Cyril’s anti-Jewish interpretation of the Pentateuchal concept of pollution can serve as a case study of the ways in which late-antique Christian biblical exegesis intersected with imperial, ecclesiastical, and popular attitudes toward the “place” of the Jews in the cityscapes of the Roman Empire.

This paper draws out the implications of Thomas Blanton’s exegesis of 2 Corinthians 3, as well as his reconstruction of the theology of Paul’s missionary rivals in Second Corinthians (Blanton, 2007) for recent discussions of the “New Perspective” on Paul. Blanton has argued that Paul’s rivals espoused a theologoumenon of covenant renewal, in which the phrase “new covenant” was connected with the idea that God’s spirit was given to enable humans perfectly to fulfill the Torah. This reconstruction is in keeping with the thrust of the “New Perspective” in that the main opposition in 2 Corinthians 3 is not between Judaism and Christianity, but between rival construals of the implications of the new covenant within the early church. Blanton’s work however, problematizes James Dunn’s view that in early Christianity the spirit was not connected with obedience to the Torah per se, and therefore endowed Christianity with a universalistic thrust, in contradistinction to Judaism’s ethnocentric and particularistic emphasis on Torah observance. If Blanton’s reconstruction is correct, both the universalistic aspect of God’s gift of the spirit and the particularistic aspect of Torah observance were combined within earliest Christianity. The opposition that Dunn posits between Judaism as Torah observant and therefore particularistic and Christianity as endowed with the spirit and therefore universalistic is too simplistic, since early Christianity was itself internally divided along the same lines.

In an ancient patriarchal culture a man was usually known as the son of his father, a woman as the daughter of her father, wife of her husband, sister of brothers, or in connection with a place (the woman of Abel). How can we learn about David’s mother who is not named? When David curses his cousins, Joab and Abishai, he calls them the sons of Zeruriah who is their mother and David’s sister. In 2 Samuel 17:25 it is possible that Nahash is the mother of Zeruriah and Abigail so possibly of David. Whatever his mother’s name, David’s relationship with her lives on in prayers which tradition attributes to her gifted son. David’s experience came to my attention when I was leading Bible study with adults in a congregational setting. The course entitled “What Was David Thinking?” integrates Psalms tradition attributes to David with the narrative about him in 1 Sam 16 through 1 Kings 2. After a psychoanalyst in the class asked, “What do we know about David’s mother?” I chronologically traced David’s expression at different moments in his life regarding this fundamental relationship. By experiencing David’s feelings revealed in prayers in context a great deal may be discerned about his sense of connection with and appreciation of his mother, in youth, throughout life, in a moment of shame, and in preparation for death.

The fourth century is often viewed as a period that witnessed significant religious change as Christianity, now reaping the benefits of direct imperial patronage for much of this century, made rapid gains into all strata of society. However, despite the general consensus that exists on this front, there is still much debate within scholarship over the rate at which the transition to Christianity was taking place. This paper therefore considers this question via an onomastic study of the extant papyrological remains from fourth-century Oxyrhynchus, Hermopolis, and Karanis, in order to see what the changing onomastic repertoires of these three locations may suggest about their consequent rates of Christianization.

The book of Zechariah suggests both the end and endurance of exile in the closing moments of the 6th Century BCE and thus provides insight into the lasting impact of the exile on the prophetic corpus. This paper investigates the lexical and imagistic range for the exile within the book of Zechariah as a whole. It plots the words and metaphors which are employed within this book to refer to the human and divine dimensions of the exile, the origins of this lexical and imagistic stock, and marks of cohesion and shift in the semantic range of exile within the book as a whole.

The question for this paper is why children seem to prefer the more bloodthirsty stories in the Bible over against the gentle ones. Whenever they encounter stories such as the beheading of John the Baptist or Absalom getting his hair caught in a tree, they want to hear it again and again and again. Using these two stories as pivots for the paper, I ask why such stories attract children and why the moralising tales of goodness and obedience do not. In seeking an answer I explore the way such stories are represented in both image and text in children’s Bibles, the historical construction of an “innocent childhood,” especially in the 19th century, the psychoanalytic theory that a child is a little barbarian who is brought into society through extensive conditioning, and the way certain biblical stories cross over into the realm of fairytale. The paper draws upon a mixture of lengthy personal experience in teaching children, observing (in good Freudian fashion) my own children, historical, literary and psychoanalytic research.

The Rule of Faith, the Ecclesiastical Canon, or simply the Faith or Kerygma, are terms used from early on to designate the basic theology of the church. This language emerged as a first and second century response to questions raised in the Christian communities. Irenaeus, and later Tertullian and Clement, frequently mention the Rule of Faith, referring to the sum content of apostolic teaching. This early Christian Rule is widely associated with baptism, catechetical teaching and creedal formulation. There are many reasons for seeking to trace its origins. It is not insignificant that the Greek word kanon had a long history, with a spectrum of meanings, such as 'rule', 'prototype', 'tool of exactitude' and 'criterion'. For Christian usage, it is also worth noticing early Jewish and New Testament uses of the term 'canon'. With creedal formulations of what later came to be called the Rule or Canon of Faith appearing already in 1 Clement, and with earlier reminiscences of creedal like formulations throughout the New Testament, the goal set for this paper is to trace the origins of the Rule of Faith in light of the first and second century emergence of the concept. As part of the discussion, the question of a unifying New Testament kerygma is addressed.

The interaction of memory and manuscript in the early literate culture of the 1st century Hellenistic world was complex and multi-faceted. This paper will explore what can be discerned about that relationship in the specific case of the composition and performances of Mark's passion and resurrection narrative. Some possible implications of this interaction in Mark for the vexed question of the composition tradition of the Gospels will be sketched.

Though most often read as evidence for a ore or less closed canon in the 2nd century BCE, the prologue tot he book of Sirach could be read in another, much more subversive way. That is, the prologue could be read as an attempt by the translator to have the book included in scripture. The way the work is constantly paralleled with the Law and the Prophets suggests this. As does the final claim that the book be read to gain learning for those who wish to live according to the law. This paper will investigate the possibility that Ben Sira's translator is not closing the canon with his prologue, but instead is making a convincing argument that the very work he is translating deserves respect and authority, just as the law and the prophets.

In historical Jesus research a fairly broad consensus have developed by interpreting the exorcisms by Jesus within a context of socio-political behaviour. Basically, demon possession and Jesus’ exorcisms are seen as disguised protest actions directed against the dominant ruler ideology. This article explores the range of meanings associated with spirit possession and exorcisms in the world of Jesus and the early Jesus movement, from a cross-cultural and historical-anthropological point of view. Selected anthropological and historical studies dealing with possession behaviour in the African context are analysed for this. Possession and exorcism are interpreted as embodied knowledge, more than counter-hegemonic practices, often constituting a metalanguage, a metaphoric construction of quotidian reality. In the final part of the article the interpretive framework is made hermeneutical in order to discuss aspects of the challenge of multiculturalism. Spirit possession can represent counter-cultural behaviour expressing metacommentary on some of a world’s values, but this happens by re-enchantment, by affirmation and continuation of other values of that same ‘world’. How to know and thereby to act upon the ethical and moral problems of the complex texture of the experienced world are at stake, and not the identification of the domain of spirits.

Recent studies on the use of ??? in Elephantine have suggested that it represents a hitherto unrecognized legal institution of a demoted spouse (Szubin-Porten: 2001; Porten 2003); or expresses feelings of rejection marking a break but not the marriage’s dissolution (Nutkowicz: 2007). In this paper we analyze the structural function of ??? within the non-fragmentary “documents of wifehood” (TAD B2.6; B3.3; B3.8), its occurrences in the rest of the Elephantine corpus, and its Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern context to reaffirm its legal meaning of “divorce” in the Elephantine documents.

This paper analyzes the transformation of the martyrology of the mother of the seven martyred sons recounted in 2 Macc 7:1–42 and 4 Maccabees within rabbinic narrative. It takes as its starting point the view, most clearly articulated by Jan Willem van Henten, that the blood of the martyrs in both 2 and 4 Maccabees is linked to an already well-developed notion of vicarious suffering and death and that it, in turn, restores the disrupted politico-theocratic order to its rightful form. Yet while the blood of the martyrs is said to effect the fate of the nation as a whole, the martyrs’ reward of eternal life (4 Macc 17:18–19; 18:6–19) is not extended to their compatriots and the punishment meted out to the oppressor is similarly targeted only against the individual oppressor, Antiochus IV (4 Macc 9:9, 10:11–21, and 12:12–18). In this important respect, 4 Maccabees operates with a notion of retributive justice quite different from the one found in historical apocalypses such as Daniel. These variations indicate that the symbolic significance of the image of the blood of the martyrs is not fixed, but is largely dependent on the larger literary context and genre in which it appears. By extension, the meanings that the blood of the martyrs carries in rabbinic narrative are likewise conditioned by the specific contours of the discourse of blood in Late Antiquity. This is perhaps especially true within the context of the version of the story of the mother and her seven sons found in Lamentations Rabbati, a verse-by-verse exegetical commentary on the book of Lamentations from fifth- or sixth-century Palestine. The creators of this midrashic work freely juxtaposed Maccabean and rabbinic martyrology and even recast the Maccabean martyrs as victims of Roman oppression. The narrative in Lamentations Rabbati echoes many of the features found in its earlier Second Temple parallels, most notably the theme of the martyrs’ blood. This proves particularly significant because the blood motif is otherwise absent from all the other rabbinic versions of the story (bGit 57b; Pesiq. Rbti 43; SER 28 [30]; YalqSh to Deut, §938; YalqSh to Lam, §1029). I interpret the re-narration of this story in Lamentations Rabbati within the overall programme of the midrash, which, as a meditation on the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple, explicitly explores the nature of religious piety in a post-sacrificial Judaism.

The focal point of this session will be an evaluation of critical aspects of the Corpus Christianorum Series Apocryphorum, including its inception and salient aspects of particular texts, including the Acts of John with the anecdote of the bugs and Christ’s dance, the Acts of Andrew with the importance of the Armenian version of Andrew’s Passion, as well as Pseudo-Matthew with the episode of the holy family in Egypt, and finally the Ascension of Isaiah with a discussion of early Christian prophets. The focus will be upon the merits of modern scholarship within this series and will include personal evaluations and reflections.

It has been argued that the Greek translator of Exod 21:22-23 establishes a link between feticide and homicide. Beginning with a descriptive analysis of the translation, I shall attempt to locate its reading of the source text within Hellenistic ethical discourse (both Jewish and non-Jewish). Various issues arise: How does the text relate to contemporary views on infanticide? Does the the translator strike a compromise between the Academy’s view of fetal independence and the Stoic view of dependence? Can we distinguish between a “Palestinian” and “Alexandrian” attitude towards feticide? I shall then consider the reception of the text within Early Judaism and Christianity, concluding with a discussion of its role in the contemporary debate surrounding the ethics of abortion, with special reference to the American context.

The Book of Esther describes Xerxes, king of Persia and Media, as an angry man. It highlights the king’s ups (Est 1:12; 7:7) and downs (2:1; 7:10). Surprisingly, Herodotus in The Persian Wars likewise emphasizes the king’s anger and wrath. His classic Greek tale fills in a time gap between Esther 1 and 2: Xerxes travels west from his capital, Susa, and loses a war in Sparta. The Persian Wars chronicles Xerxes’ international humiliation and the despot’s rages along the way. Xerxes bullies and blames subordinates; destroys property and lives in a swath from Persia to Sparta; acts pompously; and exhibits angry outbursts when crossed or thwarted. Herodotus confirms that generals, enemies, and aides tiptoe around this international bully. One, however, does not. Artemisia, a woman ship commander, earns Xerxes’ respect. When the battlefield of his life switches from Sparta back to Susa, the Bible presents a second model of courage, Esther, Xerxes’ new queen. Walking confidently in the halls of power, this lovely “general” in regal robes comes gracefully yet forcefully before the king, time and time again. Modeling anger management techniques with a blend of wisdom and femininity, Esther faces Xerxes’ anger—and neutralizes it.

The Qumran scrolls include a wide variety of prayers, some with distinctively sectarian features and others which are accepted as belonging to a wider community in Second Temple Judaism. This paper will explore the differences and similarities in the presentation of sin and its source in prayers attributed to the Qumran sect and those prayers known at Qumran whose origin is not considered sectarian (whether because of distinctively nonsectarian features, because of a particular lack of sectarian features, or because they have been found outside of Qumran as well). The portrayal of the source of sin in the sectarian Hodayot and the "Prayer of the Maskil" (1QS X.6-XI), in comparison with prayers generally considered nonsectarian, such as 11Q5 XXIV (Syriac Psalm III), 4QBarkhi Nafshi and 4QCommunal Confession, shows the extent to which sectarian prayer differs in its portrayal of the source of sin. The sectarian prayers are distinct in attaching sin to human physicality and in connecting the need for divine help to predestination and determinism. However, all the prayers mentioned, both sectarian and nonsectarian, share an understanding of the source of sin as innate and inevitable to the human condition. In order to fight this innate condition and achieve righteousness, humans require divine help. Hence, the similarities between the concept of sin in prayers with clearly sectarian features and those considered nonsectarian demonstrate that the prayer of the Qumran group does not present a "completely new" view of sin. Rather, it develops ideas popular in nonsectarian prayer. Finally, analysis of the "Songs of the Sage", a sectarian apotropaic prayer (prayer that requests God's protection from evil spirits) reveals that this prayer synthesizes the sectarian concept of the innate and physical source of sin with the concept of a demonic source of sin common to nonsectarian apotropaic prayer.

The gospel of Mark designates Jesus as the “Son of God” in three very significant places: at his baptism, at his transfiguration, and at his crucifixion. The specific use of the “Son of God” and its related phrases suggests that the gospel redefines kinship in God’s realm and relates Jesus to God in order to enact this realm and this new kinship network. Although the title is not as prevalent as “Son of Man,” it appears that the gospel uses the title “Son of God” in an intentional way at particular times. The title “Son of God” was also used as an honorific title for the Roman emperor. In an exploration of kinship and the imperial cult, it will be demonstrated that the gospel of Mark calls Jesus the “Son of God” in an effort to make certain claims about Jesus over and against the Roman Empire. As Caesar Augustus consolidated his power and authority by aligning himself familially with Julius Caesar as “Son of God,” the gospel of Mark aligns Jesus to God in the same way. Jesus is established as the legitimate son to God at his baptism, and this legitimacy is continued throughout the gospel. By implication, Jesus becomes a political heir; it is Jesus who will establish the kingdom of God on earth in the gospel of Mark over and against the political realms that exist in the Roman and Jewish hierarchies.

Abraham’s and Sarah’s struggle to produce a child is the first of the ancient Israelites’ struggle to claim the divine promise, individually and collectively. This struggle of the first patriarch and matriarch begins with Sarah’s barrenness and her resolve to find other means to produce an heir for Abraham and herself in Genesis 16. In the first nine verses, Sarah is referred to as Hagar’s “mistress” or “gevirah” three times (vv 4, 8, 9). Initially, there is little doubt for the reader to be concerned about any question of translation for the term “gevirah” as Sarah is the mistress of the servant Hagar. The reader, however, encounters a slight problem when one compares the other texts in which the term appears as it is most frequently applied to the queen mother. What becomes evident when one explores these texts and compares their meanings and contexts is that Sarah’s story corresponds to the majority of the contexts of the use of “gevirah” where succession of an heir is involved, which is that of the position of the queen mother. In order to demonstrate this similarity, I will first explore Sarah’s story where “gevirah” appears through to the securing of her son and Abraham’s heir, Isaac, all of which centers around the importance of succession. I will follow the story of Sarah the “gevirah” with how those women given the title of “gevirah” also acted in matters of succession. I will conclude with the implications of this comparison, which is that “mistress” is an inadequate translation of “gevirah” as the narrator’s choice of this appellation foreshadows Sarah as the chosen matriarch who will carry the promised heir and justify the actions she takes in order to secure the succession of her biological son.

The cult television series, Xena Warrior Princess, integrates the bible into its own fictional universe, the Xenaverse, a reinvention of the cultures of antiquity in the Mediterranean and beyond. The paper has two sections which looks at the two different representational strategies that the series pursues. The first section, entitled, “Homage to the Hollywood Bible,” concentrates on how the series deploys biblical material in the first two seasons. The series consciously imitates how Hollywood translated Hebrew Bible stories to the big screen. We find episodes that copy the epic tone of Cecil DeMille’s remake of his own “Ten Commandments” as well as the more whimsical Spielberg’s “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” The biblical narratives are transformed not through an obtrusive insertion of the character of Xena or through fantasy elements in the series but through being interwoven into a new mythic universe. The series unites premodern and postmodern sensibilities that can both commingle intense realism with the fantastic. In later seasons this combination of realism and fantasy leads to the second representational strategy--“The Postmodern Cathedral.” As religious (and especially christological) themes come to dominate the series the aesthetic referent ceases to be the Hollywood biblical movie. Instead the series draws on traditional Christian visual cultures in which the biblical narratives were reshaped in the material practices of popular piety. What is being imitated here are the rood screens, reliquaries and stained glass of medieval cathedrals and their later echoes in American Catholic culture through holy cards and the stations of the cross. In this traditional visual culture the biblical narratives were placed within a broader salvation history with its additional legends and heroes. The visual narrative of Xena Warrior Princess creates its own new salvation history.

Philippians 4:10-20 has been coined the ‘Thankless Thanks’ (danklose Danke), largely because this pericope lacks the verb eucharistein and its cognates, indicating a hesitancy on Paul’s part to render thanks directly to the Philippians for their gifts. G.W. Peterman attempts to explain the absence of a direct word of thanks by appealing to the social conventions of verbal gratitude found in non-literary papyri. He concludes that Phil. 4:10-20 is in line with ‘the Thankless Thanks’ practiced in the first century Greco-Roman world, in which verbal gratitude was withheld among socially inimate friends. I argue, however, that this text, far from being an subliminal thanks among personal friends, actually reflects the conventions of a patron-broker-client relationship, whereby the patron, not the broker, solely received thanks for meeting the needs of the client. In like manner, Paul, as the recipient of gifts (i.e., client), refuses to render thanks to the Philippians because they function as brokers, while God, as the patron, must receive all thanks, glory, and honor (4:19-20). A characteristic pattern of exchange, as can be seen in 2 Cor. 8-9, and could, in part, explain why Paul highlights God’s role as the patron by rhetoricizing the Philippians’ gifts to him into ‘a fragrant aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, well-pleasing to God’(4:18). Thus, by the application of the cultural model of brokerage, the reason for Paul’s reluctance to gives thanks in Phil. 4:10-20 may be uncovered.

Recent studies of David by Baruch Halpern, Steven McKenzie, and Niels Peter Lemche have cast doubt on the historicity of biblical accounts, but they replace “sacred” images of David with decidedly “secular” ones (“serial killer,” for instance). Putting aside debates on the historicity of the biblical account, this paper argues that current debates over David are already biblical, and that the moral ambiguity of the biblical text is more self-reflexive than naïve, suggesting a sober reflection on human political and religious power. David’s repulsion at the Amalekite’s claim to have killed Saul; his unwillingness to kill Shimei; and the killing of Saul’s children and grandchildren all render David as a kind of tragic figure, unable to exercise human passions because he must defeat the house of Saul, consolidate power, and conquer enemies without violating the letter and spirit of Israelite religion and the Deuteronomic Code. By analogy to Heiner Müller’s 1979 play, Hamletmachine, a text that confronts the struggle between canonical text and hermeneutical tradition, this paper considers the biblical portrait of David as a “David machine,” a literary-historical figure compelled to embody and enact competing, if not contradictory, religious and literary demands. This paper thus addresses theoretical discussions of the human-machine relationship, as well as debates on “secularity” and “religion.” Neither purely “secular” nor “sacred,” the biblical David is thus a kind of machine that filters the horrors of ancient warfare and politics into the heroism and sublime religiosity of Deuteronomistic tradition.

In numerous ways, the traditionally stark dichotomization of Matthew, Mark, and Luke over and against the Gospel of John is not sustainable, especially with respect to the role of women among the first followers of Jesus. In fact, in some significant ways, John actually has more in common with Mark and Matthew than does Luke, and thus may preserve a more authentic glimpse of Jesus and his followers than the Gospel of Luke has to offer. Rhetorical criticism, as the primary methodology for this paper, helps us discern some significant differences among the gospels with respect to the role of women, the role of Peter, and the use of authoritative titles.

One Medieval tradition has read a passage in Massekhet Kallah (a rabbinic text from the Talmudic Period) about a woman and her ill-conceived son as a reference to Jesus and Mary. In the passage in Massekhet Kallah, by falsely promising her life in the World-to-Come, Rabbi Akiva tricks the woman into revealing the circumstances under which her son was conceived. False oaths are strictly forbidden in rabbinic literature, and this false oath has left later scholars scrambling for explanation and justification. Read as a polemic against contemporaneous Christian tenets, this and many other seemingly strange and anomalous aspects of the story begin to make sense. Each anomaly seems to be crafted to counter a key Christian ideology. Through the story, the author is attempting to establish that Jesus is not the son of God, but the product of adulterous and impure sex; that the “true” revelation (a revelation made to Rabbi Akiva, not to Jesus’ disciples) is the revelation of Jesus’ lowly birth, rather than his divine conception; and that Jesus does not have the power to grant a person eternal life, the rabbis do. These conclusions are in line with the larger context of Massekhet Kallah and its conflict with its Christian counterparts over the definitions of holiness and sexual asceticism. These conclusions are also in line with recent findings on the nature of clandestine references to Jesus in the Talmud: they are crafted to counter core beliefs of the authors’ Christian counterparts. A comparison with Christian literature of the same period and region confirms that these attacks are consonant with the corresponding Christian theological writings of the story’s general provenance.

This paper investigates messianism as a core theology in the Old Testament, separate and distinct from the development of Eschatological Messianic expectations of later Judaism. The dominant messianic theology was royal messianism, which centered on the role of the Davidic dynasty as the sign of Yahweh's covenantal faithfullness to Israel. Royal messianism developed from a royal or kingship ideology of the ancient Near East used to legitimize the Davidic dynasty, but was subject to pre-monarchal tribal traditions and the requirements of Yahwehism. With time, it became a core testimony of Israel. A messianic hope continued to exist, even after the loss of the monarchy, and this hope was different from the hope of an Eschatological Messiah. Royal messianism was just one form of messianism within the OT. Priests and prophets also competed for the messianic role. Finally, there was also an anti-messianic movement, which denied Yahweh’s reliance on human agents to fulfill the obligations of his election covenant with Israel. The anti-messianic movement, primarily expressed in a renunciation of the centrality of the Davidic covenant with its flawed agents of deliverance, has to be seen as an essential element in the development of Eschatological Messianic expectations. The objective of this paper is to recover messianic theology of the Old Testament, the use of flawed men and women as agents of Yahweh’s deliverance for a chosen people. God uses earthen vessels to carry his life giving water.

The narrative of Acts takes place in and around upper rooms (Gk. huperoon) on three occasions (see 1:13, 9:37 and 39, and 20:8). These three episodes correspond to Luke's geographical division in 1:8, and each one portrays a brief and paradigmatic vignette of the church in Acts. The events surrounding 1:13 occur in Jerusalem and narrate the establishment of the community's leadership and mission. The story in 9:36-43 occurs in Joppa of Judea and narrates Peter raising one of the exemplary, charitable widows who served needy widows in the church. Finally, the story in 20:7-12 occurs in Troas (on the way to the "ends of the earth) and narrates a parallel raising performed by Paul in the midst of what appears to be a worship gathering. In these three passages Luke makes use of three of the possible meanings for "hyperoon": a rented upper room of a house (1:13), women's quarters (9:37), and part of a tenement building (20:8). While the precise nature of the location varies, these three vignettes serve three interrelated purposes. First, their shared setting places the social gatherings of Christians in a space that locates the members within the respectable populace of the Hellenistic-Roman world that was neither elite nor poor. Second, these three vignettes linked together by a common spatial setting capture many of the core characteristics of the church in Acts: the continuity of apostolic leadership, the participation of men and women, proclamation/teaching, worship, charitable acts for the needy, and deeds of power. Third, these vignettes also demonstrate the fluidity of private and public space in Acts. Each is cast initially as a private episode but then spills out into the public sphere, typically resulting in the growth of the church.

In the quest for an historical Jeremiah, scholars sought to connect the character in the narratives with the voice of the oracles (presumed to be the earliest layer of the book). However, doubts about i) the reliability of the narratives and ii) the origins of the oracles helped bring about a shift in interest towards the editorial and final forms of the text. Reconstructions virtually ceased and Jeremiah, now a major casualty in the so-called “collapse of history”, was left to decompose into his constituent parts: the figure encountered in the legends and the poet encountered in the rest. This paper will attempt to reconstitute the prophet as actor and author (the dual functions proposed in the book of Jeremiah itself) first by defamiliarizing these roles in the light of semiotics and the theory of theatre then by returning to them with new insights to create a fresh critical space. To do so the paper will engage with the symbolic action stories—and the symbolic non-action story in Jeremiah 16 (MT) in particular—to move beyond the psycho-biographical reconstructions of the prophet built around presumed authorial and moral intentions on to a new configuration of the prophet as a site in which the divine word is continually being written and read.

In Ephrem’s Turgomo (or Commentary on Exodus, TExod) 12.3, the typological reading of a selection of Passover laws from Exodus 12 contrasts sharply with his otherwise peshat treatment of the rest of Exodus. Nor are the terse typological identifications elaborated as in his better-known hymns. The symmetrical structure of TExod 12.3 reflects Ephrem’s poetic sensibilities. Yet the selection and typological interpretation of the laws from Exod 12, though not wholly at odds with Ephrem’s treatment of Passover themes in the “paschal hymns,” closely resemble the choice and exposition of the same laws in Aphrahat’s Demonstrations 12. Comparison suggests a well-established and widespread common tradition in fourth-century Syriac Christianity: one which serves to delineate a specifically Christian paschal observance, and to understand the Christian Passover as a performance of Exodus 12. The simultaneous development of (rabbinic) Jewish performative exegesis of Passover, e.g. the Haggadah, brings into focus the question: Do TExod 12.3 and Demonstrations 12 attest a Syriac Christian analogue? If so, TExod 12.3 may clarify the sort of effort Ephrem’s Turgomo as a whole represents. A Second-Temple interpretive phenomenon, “targum” originates and persists in the setting of public readings of sacred texts; targumic exegesis is thus not the exclusive domain of specifically rabbinic Judaism in fourth-century Nisibis. Ephrem’s employment of a more broadly Jewish (or Judeo-Christian) form “targum” sets off a very specific Syriac Christian performative exegesis of the Passover. Both the Turgomo itself and Ephrem’s crafting of a traditional “Syriac Haggadah” in 12.3 correspond to a variety of Tannaitic and Amoraic readings of Exodus in general and Passover in particular. Taken together, these texts contribute to a picture of the complex identities and porous boundaries among all those who would mark a paschal celebration during the fourth century across the likewise complex Roman-Sassanid frontier.

Once a week, “when it is Saturday night in the whole world”, migrant workers from Johannesburg’s construction sites come together for a spectacular show in the Hall, a naked concrete cellar underneath the city. Dressed up in branded suits, the blue-collar workers enter the catwalk and compete for the best performance. The scene is found in the Danish documentarist Jeppe Rönde’s film about post-apartheid South Africa: The Swenkas (2004). As part of Rönde’s Faith, Hope and Love trilogy, this film thematizes Hope. The Swenkas is a tale about the mental borderland and the “unhomeliness” that characterize post-apartheid migrant workers; they are foreigners in Johannesburg as well as in their homelands. Their lives are restricted to the undefined, “interstitial spaces” of the city. At first glance, the Swenkas’ performance seems to revive the Minstrel Shows of 19th century America and to adapt colonial stereotypes. However, when viewed through the lenses of Homi Bhabha’s Location of Culture the show becomes a creative and subversive play about postcolonial identities. Using Bhabha’s words, the Swenka-show demonstrates “a sensibility attuned to mixtures….a delight in texture and sensuous surfaces. Self-conscious manipulation of materials or iconography….the combination of found material and satiric wit….the manipulation of rasquache artifacts, code and sensibilities from both sides of the border”. When the Swenkas revive and mime the Minstrel Shows, the foundation of the colonial subject quakes. However, the epicentre underneath Johannesburg receives power from another place: John’s Gospel. The film cuts back and forth between the Swenkas’ performance in Johannesburg and their local priest’s sermon on John 14: “He who has seen me, has seen the Father”. The sermon inscribes the Swenkas in a divine genealogy. The paper examines how the idea of the incarnation as an illegitimate immigration and rasquachismo-performance constitutes a construction site for this particular “third space” identity.

Taking up Kurt Rudolph’s 1975 call for investigations of Mandaeism’s relationship to the Nag Hammadi texts, I use various Mandaean sources in order to address the question: what are the connections between the baptism-related role of the Mandaean Seth figure (i. e. Shitil) and baptism-information in the Sethian traditions especially as found in the Nag Hammadi texts The Gospel of the Egyptians, The Apocalypse of Adam, and Tripartite Protennoia? I deal with the research on Sethianism by J. Turner and B. Pearson and including a severe criticism of J.-M. Sevrin’s unhelpfully dualistic frame of interpretation in his Le dossier baptismal sethien (1986). An outline of the Mandaean baptism is presented, and emphasis placed on the religion’s complex and large baptism liturgy—larger than any such liturgy known in the ancient world. Christianity is sorely lacking in this respect—outdone by the Gnostics: Mandaeans and Sethians. Attention is paid to: the anti-dualism in the baptism ritual(s); stagnant/flowing water; Seth as baptizer, teacher and virgin; patterns of ascent=descent; these patterns’ linkage with enlightenment, visions and death; liturgical information in the mentioned Nag Hammadi texts, and the lack of Christian identity in Mandaeism and, initially, in Sethianism. I suggest that both forms of Gnosticism were involved in the discussions on baptism related to the Gospel of John. Mandaeism’s international character is stressed in terms of ritual, myths and geography (Silk Road network location in the early first century!). Sethian Gnosticism may be a younger sibling of Mandaeism. My essay marks a beginning in sorting out the mythological and ritual connections between Gnostic branches with regard to baptism.

This paper argues for the benefit to biblical and especially early Christian studies of bringing together scholarly theorization of haunting and spectrality (associated especially with the work of Derrida, but also developed by Abraham and Torok, and more recently Morrison and Gordon) with the articulation of post- or trans-humanism in science studies and material feminism (associated especially with the work of Haraway, but also developed by folks such as Latour and Barad). These scholars share concerns about the limits and possibilities of the human agency and transformation, as well as about temporality, memory, and ethics. I shall offer some specific examples of the ways in which these theoretical resources can be brought together both to read texts and the history of biblical studies otherwise.

Mount Gerizim is the second highest mountain in the range of mountains in southern Samaria. Its highest peak was thought to be the locus of the Samaritan Temple. In 1966, a survey and excavations were undertaken on Tell er Ras, the second highest and northernmost peak on Mt. Gerizim. Excavations uncovered Structure A, a tetra style pseudoperiptal Zeus temple of the 2nd century AD. Structure B, was a massive half cube of coursed unhewn limestone and huwwar. The approximate date of Structure B was determined to pre-date Hadrian, as shown by ceramics and more than 40 coins. This evidence argues that Structure B is the altar of the Samaritans.

Since the discovery of the first century Pool of Siloam in 2004, many scholars have identified the pool as a Jewish mikveh used for ritual washing. Johannine scholars have watched this development with interest because of the reference to the pool in John 9. Not only is this discovery itself important archaeologically but the pool’s identification as a mikveh renders new historical significance to the narrative of John 9. New questions must be asked about the historical plausibility of this unique healing story. The Siloam mikveh also opens a variety of new historical questions about the Johannine Jesus and history. Scholars will need to revisit the well-known Johannine water motif that appears in many critical passages (1.26, 33; 2.7, 9; 3.5, 23; 4.7-15; 5.7; 7.38; 13.5; 19.34). Throughout the history of interpretation the water motif has enjoyed numerous symbolic or theological meanings. However this paper will suggest that the motif is primarily concerned with ritual purity and gains strong plausibility as a firm Johannine datum for the historical Jesus.

In 1 Cor. 11.1, Paul exhorts his readers to “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” Imitation, or mimesis, through reading was a crucial method of character formation in the ancient world. Significantly, however, Paul does not often quote the teachings of Jesus to guide his readers’ moral development; instead he appeals to the story of Jesus’ incarnation, life, and obedience even to death as the basis for ethical exhortation (Phil. 2.1-11). Therefore it is to the Gospels, especially, but not exclusively, the Synoptics, that we should turn both for the mechanisms of character formation and for the ultimate model for emulation, namely Jesus of Nazareth. Traditionally, ethicists have read the gospels for Jesus’ moral teaching, usually seen as quintessentially displayed in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5-7). However, to do this is to commit a genre mistake, since the gospels are not written according to any ancient genre of ethical instruction, nor do they portray Jesus primarily as a moral teacher. To remove his ethical teaching from his overall preaching of the gospel is to ignore most of the text, while to abstract his teaching away from the narrative in which it is set is to misunderstand its genre, which relies upon a combination of words and deeds. Building upon my prior work on the biographical genre of the gospels, this paper will demonstrate how the gospels should be read for character formation in a two-fold manner: Jesus’ ethical teaching is part of his radical demand for a response to his preaching of the kingdom through following him in discipleship, while the gospels’ narrative invites us to imitate not only his life of radical renunciation, but also his inclusive acceptance of others, especially those who are struggling to keep his moral demands.

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This paper will conclude the inaugural meeting of the Consultation on Joshua-Judges and summarize the concerns raised therein. The paper will consider various features of the history, methodology, and presuppositions of the study of the books of Joshua-Judges, but its main focus will be to articulate the agenda for the Joshua-Judges Consulation for the near future.

The four designations in Isaiah 9:5, “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (NRSV translation) have been variously referred to as divine designations, titles assigned to an earthly Israelite king upon his accession to the throne, the names given to a heir to the throne upon his birth or titles assigned to a future Messiah. The use of the four designations here is at variance to other Isaianic titles, names or epithets, particularly those that refer to God, used throughout the Book of Isaiah and their inclusion in this verse has been attributed to the influence of the accession rites of ancient Egyptian kings. The matter of why general consensus sees only four names in the text, while the usual practice required five names to be bestowed, has not been satisfactorily addressed in any detail. By examining the individual designations against the use of other titles and epithets in the text as well as in the context of several decades of scholarly debate on the matter, the influence on the verse of the ancient practice of allocating a newly crowned Egyptian king five throne names may be more clearly evaluated.

“And when you make male and female into a single one, so that the male will not be male nor the female be female … then you will enter [the kingdom].” Gospel of Thomas 22 “[I turned] inward toward acquaintance [with] the entireties, the Barbelo aeon, and I beheld the holy powers from the luminaries of the masculine female virgin Barbelo…” The Foreigner 59 “…And the females that they call ‘virgins’ are the ones who have never experienced the worldly intercourse of ordinary natural marriage as far as the reception of sperm goes.” Epiphanius of Salamis, Panarion 26.11.10 My paper attempts to delineate and analyze the queer-like worldview evinced in Gnostic writings. While these “heretic” early Christians, active already in the 2nd century of our era, remodeled and retold the creation story vis à vis the biblical and Platonic accounts, they did this significantly in order to express their own views regarding gender and sexuality. In turn, this “invented” story of origins has been used by them in order to explain and account for their queer-like stance over against mainstream culture. Evidence can be brought as well to show that this stance has also found its expression in sexual rituals performed by at least some of them. The mythological world as presented by those Gnostics comprises two separate realms: The preexistent pure pleroma, inhabited by many entities which are either genderless, or, more often, ones whose gender is elusive (e.g., referred to as “she” but designated as the “thrice male”), and a realm of the rulers (or archons), a result of a cosmic catastrophe, in which gender is pointedly and repeatedly defined, both regarding gods and regarding humans. While the Gnostics originally belonged to that heavenly realm, they are currently trapped (together with the rest of humanity) in the realm of the rulers, and also, as a consequence, are under its compulsory process of gendering. Employing Judith Butler’s notions of gendering, citationality, performativity and subversion, I would raise the possibility that since these people had no basis in their “past” for the naturalization of heterosexuality – actually, according to them, a result of a heavenly calamity and a curse of an evil, gendered, masculine god – they had no “choice” but to do their best to miscite those norms, thus subverting the compulsory process of gendering, in a way similar to some of the theatrical actions performed today by queer activists. In my paper I intend to discuss a number of choice ancient Gnostic texts, including The Apocryphon of John, The Gospel of Thomas, The Gospel of Judas and The Foreigner, as well as some instances of proto-orthodox polemical writing directed against those Gnostics, notably the description of their sexual rites in the Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis. Moreover, a preliminary phenomenological comparison between the gnostic endeavor to subvert gendering and some modern attempts to do so will be offered. I hope to show that even though many differences do exist, there are also important similarities which are both enlightening and troubling.

Creation themes in Romans 8:18-30 have been the subject of a tremendous amount of recent scholarship mainly centered on refuting neo-orthodox readings of the travail of creation (8:19-23) anthropocentrically and soteriologically. Scholars like John C. Gibbs and Steve Kraftchick argue instead that redemption and creation are coordinate, not hierarchical concepts, in other words, when Paul talks about creation he is making definite cosmological assertions rather than poetic or symbolic statements. Gibb’s in particular is struggling with the overwhelmingly prevalent view of 20th century scholarship that asserts that creation itself has no place in God’s redemptive plan other than as a metaphor for the redemption of the human race. While I applaud the work of these scholars, I also think that beginnings are as important as endings, in other words, that by going back to the text we may be able to discern some important concepts that have bearing on contemporary human, environmental and ecclesiological concerns. The best beginning for this type of study is with the fundamental question of why Paul wrote his letter to the Romans in the first place, what he is trying to accomplish with the letter, and finally when Paul uses creation imagery how does it function within his argument? I will argue that the creation themes in Romans 8:18-30, while having their backdrop in Jewish prophetic and apocalyptic literature, are part of a larger question of who will be included in salvation and how this inclusion is possible. All things and all people, including Israel, are part of God’s salvific plan, so in order to prove this point, Paul himself emphasizes the importance of beginnings by arguing that God’s plan to include both Jews and Gentiles in salvation was in place from the beginning of time, and that signs that this plan is working are found in the travail of creation and the workings of Spirit.

When Bible colleagues discovered that I would be required to teach a course on Catholicism in my new faculty position at a small Catholic college, they were both amused and bemused: bemused because I had no academic background in the subject; amused because I had been outspoken in my criticism of the Catholic church’s views on a number of issues. I had no idea how to design—much less teach—such a course. In the process of developing it, however, I discovered six strategies that made teaching outside my discipline doable and, dare I say it, enjoyable : (1) stay in your zone; (2) take your time; (3) plagiarize, aka virtual brainstorming; (4) cram; (5) share the fun; (6) practice.

This paper will address the ongoing criminal investigation into the case of Raphael Golb, son of University of Chicago Oriental Institute professor Norman Golb, who allegedly used over 80 internet aliases to defend the academic views of his father concerning Qumran, and to harass, defame, smear, and harm the careers of multiple Dead Sea Scrolls scholars, including the author. This paper examines the growing use of the Internet by scholars in the forms of blogs, message groups, discussion boards, and email to discuss and promote their academic views. The paper will offer a list of recommended good practices for scholars to follow on the Internet to promote transparency, credibility, and professionalism, as well as a list of things to avoid online.

Origen is especially well-suited for a study on the reception of the Gospel of Thomas in antiquity. He was perhaps the most well-read Christian intellectual of the third century and he amassed a huge library to support his prolific output of exegetical writings, many of which have survived. Moreover, Origen was more open-minded about citing “apocryphal” works than many other ancient Christian writers, so his vast body of work promises to contain several examples of his use of the Gospel of Thomas. This paper surveys a half-dozen cases where Origen used the Gospel of Thomas, both by name and anonymously—including one previously unrecognized instance—and assesses his attitude toward this text. In short, this survey shows that, despite Origen’s recognition that the Gospel of Thomas did not rank with Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John and despite the presence of some content he must have found objectionable, Origen nonetheless thought that the Gospel of Thomas contained historically useful and homiletically edifying material.

This paper considers the methodological potentials and challenges for dating any Biblical Literature to the period of Babylonian exile. Some past proposals of markers of exilic dating will be considered. New ones will be proposed. And these will be applied to the prophetic corpus, with a particular focus on certain themes (redirection of oracles toward Babylon, for example) and modes (e.g. the use of polemical humor).

In the past couple of decades there has been fresh scholarly research into the Exilic and Post-Exilic Periods. This work has yielded innovative reconsiderations of the social, religious, and political life of the Jewish communities in Babylon and Persia and in the province of Yehud. Several also have attempted to coordinate these finds and new perspectives with contemporary concerns. One such effort is ‘Diasporic Theology,’ whose goals are to reorient Christian faith away from hegemonic presuppositions about how to think about the theological enterprise and to reflect on life from within and for present-day communities who are somehow displaced. Hispanic scholars utilize this approach in handling the Bible in order to engage the complex issues of hybridity, assimilation, and religious practices in relationship to the majority culture. While diasporic studies usually are informed by postmodernist criticism and postcolonial studies, this essay appeals to the discipline of transnationalism within cultural anthropology in order to probe these issues from a different angle and to offer a reading of several Old Testament texts. The extent of the concerns of transnational studies is very broad, but this essay will concentrate primarily on the multiple matters of identity among Hispanic immigrants in the United States. The biblical text can be appreciated as a valuable source for self-discovery and confidence within a society that marginalizes, exploits, and persecutes these readers. This study has been motivated by the author’s own bicultural background and work with Hispanic immigrants.

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Monastic renunciation in early Christianity was frequently justified by recourse to St Paul’s warning to Timothy that ‘the love of money is the root of all evil’ (1 Tim 6:10). Having been assigned such an important place by the Apostle, ‘love of money’ (philagyria; amor pecuniarum) was to all intents and purposes assured a central role in the moral literature of early Christian asceticism. Thanks above all to the writings of Evagrius Ponticus and John Cassian, it enters the canon of ‘eight wicked thoughts’ that is the forerunner to Gregory the Great’s ‘seven deadly sins.’ Given the intercalation of philagyria and the need to renounce possessions in Evagrius and Cassian’s writings, it is easy to suppose that they would have taken a straightforward line on the problem of ownership. However, a closer look at those writings reveals this not to have been the case. Instead, even though they took the Pauline formula for their point of departure, both monks were ambivalent toward money and other possessions. This ambivalence is conspicuous, firstly, in contemporary biographical accounts of Cassian, Evagrius, and their peers that shed additional light on financial aspects of semi-eremtic life in Egypt. Taking cues from those accounts, it is possible to return to Cassian’s and Evagrius’ works once more and note that their words of warning are placed in a specific context and in fact are not unequivocal. By considering in some detail their monastic exegesis of 1 Tim 6:10, it will be possible to glean insights not only into how they implemented scriptural categories but also how they conceived of legitimate ownership.

Yehud offers us a stage for an analysis of two political subjects, theocracy and utopia (the latter drawing from T. More, K. Mannheim, and K. Marx). Yehud was neither. The authors of certain Persian-period Hebrew texts (e.g., Ezra-Nehemiah, Haggai, and Zechariah), however, believed that ‘restoration’ would inaugurate a utopian theocratic state. It could only be ‘utopian’ because a theocracy had never before existed and the authors interpreted it as a perfect environment where obedience and loyalty insured success. This paper will offer a working definition of theocracy tenable to political theory and flesh out the components of actual theocracies through cross-cultural case studies. It will then demonstrate where the society of Yehud failed to be a theocracy and why a theocracy remained solely within the utopian dreams of the golah community.

Isaiah 40:18, “To whom then will you compare God? What likeness will you compare him to?” has almost exclusively been taken to mean that there is nothing in the image or likeness of God. This interpretation has then governed the way in which the rest of Isaiah 40-55 is read, specifically with regard to the image of Yahweh. This way of thinking, however, does not adequately represent the message of Isaiah 40-55. This paper suggests that while the text of Isaiah 40-55 does argue that Yahweh cannot have images made by human hands, it does not argue that Yahweh does not have an image. Yahweh himself has formed an image with his hands – the people of Israel. The author of Isaiah 40-55 intends to bring Israel forth as the image of Yahweh as Israel functions in the same way the idols do. Israel is Yahweh's image, which – though Yahweh has formed him from the womb with his hands – has become deaf, dumb, and blind like the idols of the other gods, made by human hands. Thus, Yahweh looks just as weak and impotent as the other gods, and his claim to be the one true God is undermined; his people left hopeless in exile. But through Yahweh's creative power, he will restore Israel to display his glory in the sight of all peoples. Then all nations will bow down to Israel and worship Yahweh through his image proclaiming, “Surely there is no one like you, there is no other God.” In this way, Israel will function as the idols of the ancient Near East function for their gods. In order to show this more clearly, Isaiah also employs the language from the mis pi ceremony to describe Yahweh's relationship with Israel.

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This paper will explore the reception of the texts of Josephus by analyzing the presentation ?of Judean and Roman identities in two modern film comedies, Life of Brian and History of the ?World: Part 1. Though neither film openly declares itself to be an “accurate” representation of ?history and culture based on ancient texts (in contrast to, for instance, Cecil B. DeMille’s ?claims for The Ten Commandments), both reflect material gleaned from Josephus, among ?other sources, which has then been given a comic twist. Furthermore, both films use their ?representations of ancient identities to comment upon identity issues negotiated in modern ?Britain and the United States. Josephus may have written his Judean War as a tragedy, as I ?have argued elsewhere, but his work has provided ample fodder for modern comic ?interpretations that nonetheless provide serious commentary about both ancient and modern ?realities.

Two pools mentioned by the Fourth Evangelist have been discovered by archaeologists within the area enclosed by Jerusalem’s walls before 70 CE. Each pool has an archaeological story that strengthens the growing perception that the Fourth Evangelist intimately knew Jerusalem and mentions details not found in the Synoptics, the Pseudepigrapha, or Josephus. First, the Pool of Bethzatha (Bethesda) (Jn 5) is not a pentagon but it has five porticoes (5:2); and it is precisely where the Evangelist situates it, “by the Sheep Gate.” Second, the Pool of Siloam (Jn 9) is correctly defined as “Sent,” but it is not a paronomasia on Jesus as being sent into the world. It is now realized to be the largest mikveh (Jewish ritual bath) within Jerusalem; it disappeared in 70 CE when the Roman armies covered the area with destruction. A massive staircase leading from it northward to the Temple has been partially uncovered. The discoveries impressively match the Johannine story. Many questions are raised by these discoveries; most will be explored in the lecture. It is clear that the Fourth Evangelist is not only an imaginative writer with a theological agenda; he is also one who was familiar with the topography and architecture of pre-70 Jerusalem.

While scholars have long noted metaphor’s importance for understanding biblical Hebrew poetry, they have devoted far less research on metonymy, a linguistic relative of metaphor. As a result, scholarship lacks consistent labels and definitions for metonymy and on occasion, blurs the important differences between metaphor and metonymy. With a conceptual based approach to metonymy, scholars can gain a richer knowledge of the poetics behind biblical poetry. This paper introduces the two main forms of metonymy, taxonomic and partonomic, in which the former is organized through paradigmatic relationships and the latter by syntagmatic relationships. It surveys metonymy’s various poetic functions (semantic compaction, oblique reference, and multivalency), demonstrates how metaphors and metonymys interact, and illustrates how accounting for metonymy can aid in interpreting difficult poetic passages.

The literary unity between the story of Joseph (Gen. 37-50) and the story about Judah and Tamar (Gen. 38) has been variously defended ever since Robert Alter's 1981 The Art of Biblical Narrative. But no work has tried to argue for an essential likeness between Tamar and Joseph. The similarities between Tamar and Joseph are several and can serve to establish a metaphorical relationship between them. First, both are objects of sexual desire: Potipher's wife lusts after Joseph, as Judah lusts after Tamar. Second, both are liminal characters that make themselves occupy the centers of their adopted homes: Joseph is a Hebrew who becomes the governor of Egypt, and Tamar is a Canaanite who becomes an ancestor to David. Third--and this will be the point of interest for my paper--both are constructors of representative realities, most simply understood as fictional plays that take the place of reality, by which they control their own fate (and that of others). By means of these representative realities, both Tamar and Joseph achieve a transcendent freedom from the bounds of their social realities; for Joseph, from the fate of slavery and imprisonment, and for Tamar, from the patriarchal society that defines her as an outsider from the beginning to end: childless widow, harlot, and pregnant widow, categories of womanhood unacceptable in the patriarchy. Joseph authors the migration of his family from Canaan to Egypt, setting the stage for the exodus narrative; and Tamar writes herself into an Israelite matriarch, an ancestor to King David. Joseph and Tamar write themselves free, free from the constraints of their historical and social situatedness. For them, literary creativity has the meaning of freedom.

The dearth of literary evidence from Lower Galilee that might shed light not only on its economy during the first-century C.E., but also on the economic aspects of Jesus’ words and ministry has often been lamented. This lack stands in stark contrast with the wealth of papyrological evidence unearthed in neighboring Egypt. That these papyri contain an unparalleled quantity of economic data is undisputed. What is disputed is the degree to which evidence particular to Egypt can be used to contribute to our knowledge of the economy of the Roman Empire, in general, and the Galilee, in particular.This paper seeks to evaluate whether and to what extent papyrological evidence can be used in studies of the first-century C.E. Galilean economy. Further, it will consider the implications of this body of evidence for reading Jesus’ words on economic issues, paying particular attention to the parable of the vineyard owner (Matt 20:1-15).

Appropriating Michel de Certeau’s concept of the body as a social text signifying the inscription of the Law and reading from an Asian feminist perspective, I reinterpret the story of a man who was deaf and had a speech impediment in Mark 7:31-37. Interpreters have only highlighted Jesus’ miraculous healing instead of addressing the man with the hearing and speech disability. However, from these hermeneutical approaches, this man can be identified with the feminized Asian people in America in that both subjects live under the power of the empires, struggling with imposition of the dominated order and other forms of repression. I will first look at the text itself, focusing on the symbolic expression of the fettered tongue (ho desmos tes glosses), the man’s passivity in the process of Jesus’ healing, and finally its consequence, i.e. that the mystery is revealed, but he remains as voiceless as before. I will then reread the story listening to the voices of Asian American women writers representing their liminal experience related to language acquisition. Observing their speech acts through their autobiographical works alongside of my theoretical exploration provides a fresh insight into reading this story. In turn, the text’s interpretation will help the reader listen to the silenced voices and invisible presences on the margins of society.

Inquiries into the agency of the revelation of biblical law aid our understanding of the provenance of legal traditions. In Nehemiah 8, Ezra’s proclamation of the law occurs in a central, urban setting. The event is carefully orchestrated by elites. In contrast, the revelatory scenes at Sinai/Horeb project a context removed from urban life. Here the people play leading roles in events permeated with unrestrained phenomena and enigmatic experience. Although orality is a shared dynamic, the desert depictions show traces of revelatory address occurring at different times and places, and in varying modes. It is noteworthy that whereas some preexilic traditions in Deuteronomy assert Yhwh as the sole originator and proclaimer of revelation, others associate middle-tier Levites with the mediation and propagation of law at regional sanctuaries (Deut 33:8-10).

Nearly all scholars call Col. 1.24 a crux; few, if any, ask why it is. Undoubtedly there are ‘difficult’ texts, and this may be no exception. But sometimes a text’s ‘difficulty’ can, to some degree, reflect its failure to conform to established/presumed methods, doctrines, ‘centers’ of an author’s thought, or particular backgrounds, so that in truth this difficulty reveals more about its readers than it does the text. We begin by making a curious methodological observation: the verse has been analyzed with not merely breathtaking but suffocating atomism; Phil. 3, 2 Cor. 1, 4; Rom 8, etc. (and/or some Jewish and/or Greco-Roman 'background') are immediately hired for what is the exegetical equivalent of an off-shore business venture, leaving the verse’s immediate context out of a job; why? Exegetically and rhetorically, are we on the right track when the verse’s literary context—especially the preceding section running from v 12 to v 23 in all its apparent redemptive-historical ‘once-and-for-all’-ness—is (with few exceptions) portrayed as hostile to the supposedly awkward ‘lack’ of v 24; did the author really intend to throw his audience such an impressive rhetorical/communicative curve ball, or is it only the modern interpreter who perceives it as such and therefore swings according—and misses every time? What does it say when the lion’s share of (mostly Protestant) commentators begin their analysis of v 24b by explaining what the verse does not mean? Then proceeding to a final, more theological observation: supposing for a minute that tou Christou actually refers to Christ (arguably the most straightforward reading, yet undoubtedly up for grabs), might there be categories in which to place and by which to give expression to Christ’s afflictions in addition to soteriological and exemplary? After exploring a few possible categories, we will briefly sketch a simple way forward: how might the tou Christou of 24 actually be referring back to the Christos of vv 15-20?

How is sinking a scroll into the enemy's river in 6th century BCE Babylon similar to burying the jersey of an opponent's team in modern America? As an exploratory exercise in the study of theory and method in the field of Bible and Popular Culture, this essay will compare and contrast two examples of ritual cursing, one ancient and one modern. Important technical concepts and practices of ritual cursing will be examined in the context of ancient Israel (specifically, as reflected in the biblical material of Jer 51:59-64) and modern American sports (specifically, the baseball rivalry between the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees). The goal of this project is to demonstrate the usefulness of studying popular religious culture in light of ancient religious practices and texts, especially biblical texts.

Although there can be no doubt that, in terms of “facts on the ground,” the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple was attended by a great deal more continuity than traditionally conceived of in terms of its religious life and institutions, still, the fact remains that the rhetorical construction of 70 CE as a unique watershed event has influenced everyone from church fathers and early rabbis to modern secular historians, from ancient times to the present. This paper takes recent historical reformulations of 70 CE as a significant but not ultimately/universally disruptive event, as a basis from which to reconsider the rhetorical recrafting of the destruction of the Temple as the event that “has made all the difference,” in identifying the true People of God. I argue that it is only in the wake of the (failed) Bar Kochba revolt that Christian writers, preeminently Justin, begin to (re)interpret the events of 70, especially through the lens of Deuteronomy 16, as the seal upon the fate of the Jews and the platform for the emergence of the Christians as that true People. Conversely, it is this Christian construction of 70(=135) that becomes the shadow partner of the producers of the Mishnah and later rabbinic literature in conceptualizing what it means for Jews to be God’s People from the second century and forward.

Starting from the enigmatic passage of Lk 22,43-44 (the angel and the sweat "like drops of blood"), the paper will underline the existence of a cultural matrix, according to Michael Riffaterre's terminology. One can observe the development of a cultural matrix agonia/sweat from the Homeric texts until the mystical texts of Hierotheos and of Pseudo-Dionysios the Areopagitus. The double meaning of the Greek term agonia (anxiety/fight) has led to a range of different adaptations of this cultural matrix, sometimes in religious framework, sometimes in non religious framework. For the latter, see for example Theophrastes (De sudore 11-12) or Philo (Leg. Caium 243). For the former, see for example the experience of Aelius Aristides in Asclepios’ sanctuary (Sac. Disc. 4,17-18), or Jacob’s description in Midrash Rabba 65,19, or Eusebius (Comm. on Psalm 54,4), or Philostrates (Heroikos 19,5). Language generally separated the descriptions evoking an experience of "fight and sweat", or of "fear and sweat", even inside the mystical background (see the Holy Book of Hierotheos 2,21,43 and Pseudo-Dionysios in Eccl. Hier. 7,553A). But according to the analysis of emotional language by Kövecses, the body remains able to give limits to language and significations, because it can unify diverse meanings. Consequently, the extreme description of a sweat "like drops of blood" or of hematidrosis can illustrate an intense fight (Theophrastes), as well as a maximal fragility (Diodorus, Aristotle), or as a mystical experience (Hierotheos). The polyvalence of the cultural matrix agonia/sweat allows one also to understand why Lk 22,43-44 was differently interpreted (fight/anxiety/mysticism). This paper confirms on a precise point Ra'anan Boustan’s hypothesis about the transfer of features and descriptions from martyr to mystic, adding the sportive framework. When the Olympic games eventually ceased in the dying Greco-Roman empire, the cultural matrix agonia/sweat pursued its way into mystical spheres.

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Many different types of erected markers litter the Hebrew Bible, usually denoting a physical location as one of cultic significance, commemorating interaction with the deity through anointment, sacrifice, burial, and/or covenant. We most commonly read about one particular type of marker, the matsevah, which figures prominently in the Pentateuch and historical books. However, other types of markers define and preserve locations as personal, political and/or cultic memorials. Jeremiah and Ezekiel use the rare term tsiun, a marker of human bones, as a tool for creating sites of collective memory and for challenging the physical and spiritual sites of a previous cultic establishment. Their knowledge and application of the term tsiun indicates a shared literary culture and collective vocabulary and reveals broader common concerns over death, burial and the desecration of tombs. The prophets’ disparagement of the more widely recognized matsevah and their promulgation of other markers such as tsiunim reflect their agenda of rejecting the traditional marker of memory and, with it, the religious establishment whose cultic scene these prophets decry. I propose that the passages containing the term tsiun share literary and thematic concerns, semantic overlapping (particularly the focus on travel and roadways, and on setting out and returning) and a concern for the condition of human bones (both physical location and (un)holy nature). These similarities should be considered in light of the larger setting of the works of Jeremiah and Ezekiel. As a physical object, a tsiun demarcates a literal space, i.e. a place of burial, but as a literary choice, it serves as a polemic, creating imagined or symbolic sites for both the prophetic authors and the populations they address.

In the field of Subaltern Studies, scholars attempt to construct a history from below that emphasizes the most marginalized people in a society. Gayatri Spivak is famous for problematizing the marginalized by showing how hierarchical structures exist within oppressed societies, i.e. the oppressed within the oppressed. Using this framework, I will read James and Paul as competing subaltern identities within the dominant Roman Empire. Each provides a “subalternative” identity within the marginalized early Jewishness of the first century. In an attempt to construct an identity in relation to the Roman Empire, both James and Paul negotiate cultural border lines. James argues for a more conservative, nativist position while Paul radicalizes and/or hybridizes Jewish identity. In this way, they offer (sub)alternative identities for their constituencies. This process of negotiation also reveals the palimpsest that was Jewishness and Christianness in the first century.

In the year 418 CE, the bishop of the island of Minorca, Severus, penned a letter describing the miraculous conversion of the island’s 540 Jews following the arrival of Stephen’s relics entitled Letter on the Conversion of the Jews. But, when read in light of late antique rhetoric, Severus actually tells us much more than this—social, political, and religious tensions underlie the entire conversion narrative. From name-calling to looting to exile, the Christians and the Jews of Minorca fought to define themselves and the world around them. The Christians of the island desired a return to the ideal prelapsarian existence and believed that in their city, with its boundaries ordained and protected by God himself, they were experiencing this way of life. The Jews of Minorca, living outside, in the corrupted world, presented many social and religious obstacles that kept the Christians from fully participating in this perfected form of existence. Outside of their protected city, the Christians were subjected to the deadly sting and bite of the scorpions and vipers that damaged Christ’s church daily. By cutting through the highly-stylized narrative, we can begin to reveal and understand the various threads of political and social issues that led up to what was in reality the rather brutal, and often times illegal, forced conversion of Minorca’s Jews. This essay will examine the ways in which Severus of Minorca uses the imagery of vipers and scorpions to express Christian resentment of the Jews and to create the image of Jamona (the Christian city) as prelapsarian Eden and Magona (the Jewish city) as the corrupted world. This will entail an examination of the ways in which vipers and scorpions are used as literary symbols in antiquity and how these symbols and the symbols of Eden and a return to Eden are employed in Severus’ letter. The ways in which other early Christian authors envisioned this return to an Edenic state, what was required to get there, and what it would look like will also be discussed. All of these considerations taken together, we will begin to understand how a violent act of forced conversion was transformed into a triumphant tale of God’s blessings on a small island in February of 418 CE.

Destroyed by the Romans in 146 BCE and rebuilt as a Roman colony a century later, the city of Corinth (in modern-day Greece) played host to Roman colonists, Greek and Italian traders, Jews, early Christians, and all those who found their way to a city that sat at the hub of ancient international commerce. The first colonists in Roman Corinth sought various ways to claim the city as their own, navigating the new environment by adaptation and adoption. The early colonists adapted themselves to a political and economic context in which it was in their best interest to be both Greek and Roman at the same time. As Romans they were able to claim political and patronal linkages with the imperial center, but as Greeks they could better navigate the lucrative trading relationships that were afforded by the city’s geographic location. The early colonists also found various ways to adopt the history, mythology, deities, and identity of their Greek Corinthian predecessors, thus drawing on the prestige and cultural power of a famous and ancient Greek city. The Corinthians to whom Paul wrote also adopted a new history, ancestors, deity, tradition, and ethics by joining a community rooted in the worship of the god of Israel. By reading the Corinthian correspondence in the context of the broader development of Corinthian civic identity, this paper explores the appropriation, negotiation, and contestation of history and myth in the formation of civic and group identity.

Theological interpretation of the Jewish Scriptures in the Eastern Christian tradition inspired many iconographic depictions of scenes from the Hebrew Bible. Iconography not only expressed a theological interpretation but also served as a visual defense of the use and value of the Hebrew Bible by the Church. The iconography of Eastern Christianity depicts the person of Christ participating in familiar stories from the Hebrew Bible in a manner that is identical to the iconographic depiction of the historical Jesus in New Testament scenes in face, form, gesture, garb, colors, symbols, etc. Thus, the depiction of Christ at the creation of the universe in Genesis produces an iconographic association of Genesis 1 with John 1 and Colossians 1. Eastern Christian iconography consistently uses symbols to identify Christ - not God the Father - with the “I am” of Ex. 3:14, even in icons representing Christ in New Testament scenes. This in turn results in iconographic depictions of Mary, the mother of Jesus, as the symbolic Burning Bush expressing a typological-prophetic interpretation. Still other images depict the active involvement of Christ in Hebrew Bible events, such as presenting him as the “Angel of the Lord,” or depicting Christ as the “Angel of the Great Counsel” suggesting the fulfillment of Christological prophecy. The inter-relationship between textual material and iconographic interpretation is also demonstrated in the image which combines the symbols and descriptions from Daniel’s “Ancient of Days” and Revelation’s “one like a Son of Man” in a single icon of Christ. The most famous and common depiction of the Holy Trinity in Eastern Christianity is a scene from the Hebrew Bible, “the Hospitality of Abraham,” in which subtle iconographic details express Trinitarian theology. All is one in a fluid and timeless ebb and flow of visual depictions, theological reflections, biblical interpretations.

Getting students interested and involved in their learning is a central challenge to teaching undergraduates in a Liberal Arts setting. In the Introduction to the Bible course, I use a number of in-class exercises designed to get the students working together and interested in the academic study of the Bible. The “Cinderella exercise” introduces the students to the idea of Pentateuchal sources and always produces a lively discussion early in the semester. “Time-traveling prophets” requires the students to understand the oracles of the 8th century prophets accurately enough to have them speak directly to a particular situation in our own time. Both exercises require group cooperation and active engagement with the biblical material.

The time is ripe for a next step in Septuagintal studies, the hermeneutical process. Much of the necessary ground research, fundamental text-critical work, has been completed over the past few decades; now the issue of interpretation should be addressed. This should naturally be done systematically. Various introductory aspects come to mind, of which one, the question as to who were responsible for individual translated units will be dealt with in this paper. Scholars have deviating views on the relationship between LXX Proverbs and Job. Gerleman is of the opinion that the same person could have written both versions. Gammie takes into account stylistic criteria and comes to a similar conclusion. This issue it has to be dealt with systematically. There are conspicuous correspondences and differences between LXX Job and Proverbs. Both differ rather dramatically from existing Hebrew texts, eg the textus receptus (MT). Both units also contain unique phenomena. For example, Proverbs has more pluses than Job. Job in its turn has more minusses. Again scholars differ as to the reasons for these textual phenomena. As far as both are concerned scholars take deviating Hebrew Vorlagen as possible reasons (Orlinsky and Tov). Other scholars (Cox et al) hold the opinion that the individual translators were responsible for these differences. This paper will address the differences and correspondences between LXX Proverbs and Job systematically. A representative number of passages in both units will be analysed. These include Job Chapter 28 and Proverbs Chapter 25. Aspects that will be dealt with are texts and possible Vorlagen; the text-critical value of these units and stylistic issues.

The term vav consecutive and its alternatives (e.g., vav conversive, vav reversive, vav inversive, vav relative, and vav inductive) are long-established traditional labels for Biblical Hebrew verb forms, and they remain prevalent in the literature of the field despite growing recognition that they are inaccurate descriptions of the verb forms to which they refer. I contend that these terms share some common descriptive errors about the Hebrew verbal system that make their continued use not only confusing and misleading but counterproductive to the study of Hebrew grammar. In this paper I point out the problems engendered by the use of these terms and propose more satisfactory descriptions of the phenomena to which they refer as well as alternative labels for these forms.

Preexilic Israelite society developed as a monarchic state out of an earlier acephalous, segmentary organization. Israel’s new centralized societal system could not immediately replace its earlier village system, however, so two social systems coexisted in tension and conflict for centuries amid the people. In particular, the growth of monarchy could not immediately dissipate the traditional prestige and authority of rural priestly Levitical family-lines. In their old, village-based organization, these tribal lines identified with, ministered to, and interpenetrated, the whole of society, independent of geographic, political, and economic borders and strictures. As Israelite society regrouped and entrenched itself as a centralized monarchy, they strove to preserve a society-wide, village-oriented symbol and value system, but their lifestyle became increasingly outmoded. In the era of the divided kingdoms, the Levites were forced to perdure in the face of an ever stronger, centralized organization of society that increasingly rendered older assumptions and institutions peripheral, impractical, or irrelevant. Their actions and words surface in the biblical texts as evidence of activist-traditionalists working to turn back the clock, defending old ideas and values with new vigor and imagination.

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This paper charts a trajectory from the meals held in the Jesus Movement itslef and Q and Thomas which celebrated inclusivity and joy, but did not focus on the presence of Jesus or his impending death, through the meals of the earliest Christians which did celebrate and memorialize the presnece of Jesus, and eventually, memorialized his death. Attention will be given to the meals tradition in the Didache in particular, which probably has two meals rather than one meala proper, one which was a Eucharist and one which was not, but was a meal of Jesus' presence where "all were filled," It is my contention thatthe second meal is ealrier than the first and is an archaic practice of Northern Galilee which called for Jesus to "come to the meal" (Maranatha). The paer is a chapter from my forthcoming book with Fortress Press, Maranatha: Funerary Meals, Lament, WOmen and Christian Origins. I would llike to interact with Didache scholars in the writing of this chapter.

We are well-informed about the religion of the Armaean kingdom of Sam’al: the deities who were worshipped and the cult of the dead (cf. Niehr). The monuments of the kings of Sam’al mention gods such as Hadad, El, Resheph, Shamash and of course Rakib-El. The gods are also represented physically: the statue of the god Hadad and the enigmatic divine symbols. What about the goddesses, esp. in the light of the importance of, and current interest in, the female deities in the Levant? The royal inscriptions do not mention any female deity and to find evidence of them we have to search elsewhere. Sources which will be discussed are: • The badly preserved stela from Ördek Burnu, which might contain the name of the goddess Kubaba; • Reliefs from the Outer Citadel gate depicting a woman with a mirror (identified as Kubaba); • A naked woman holding her breasts on the bridle-gear decoration on a stone statue of a horse (Astarte?); • Metal objects from Andrae’s “Kleinfunde” which depict a woman holding lions and standing on lions, and pendants depicting a naked woman holding plants and a woman on a lion (identified with Ishtar). This material will be described, analysed, compared with other material from the Ancient Near East and interpreted in order to answer questions about whether goddesses were worshipped in Sam’al, and what their names and their functions were.

The notion of the True Prophet, with its succession of reincarnations, from Adam to Jesus, is certainly one of the most original elements of the Pseudo-Clementines theology. In the Homilies and in the Recognitions, the doctrine of the Verus Propheta, into which Clement is initiated at the beginning of the novel, is presented as the keystone of the Apostle Peter’s teaching. The opposition that we find in the Pseudo-Clementines between philosophical truth and prophetical truth is the starting point of my communication. In order to have a better comprehension of that opposition, I think we should consider the fact that the Pseudo-Clementine writings were written in the same period (3rd and 4th centuries AD) during which Neoplatonists like Porphyry and Iamblichus devoted a great deal of energy in trying to assign a fundamental role to prophecy and divine revelation in their systems of thought. Both Neoplatonists and Christians believed that truth was divinely revealed and that revelation was channelled through prophecy and oracles. The rivalry between Neoplatonists and Christians and their confrontation on issues like oracles gave rise to polemical works such as Porphyry’s Philosophy from Oracles and Against the Christians and apologetical works such as Eusebius’ Preparation for the Gospel and Lactantius Divine Institutes. In this communication I will argue that insistence on prophecy in the Pseudo-Clementines, as displayed in the doctrine of the True Prophet, can be better understood if it is placed in the context of a rivalry between Christians and Neoplatonists. Fully aware that the question of the context of the Homilies and the Recognitions is difficult, I propose however that the True Prophet theme is aimed not only at Marcionites or readers who knew about Marcion, as H. J. W. Drijvers (1990) argued, but at readers who knew about Neoplatonists as well.

As one of their general education requirements, students at Maryville College choose either Biblical Studies 130: Hebrew Bible World and Culture or Biblical Studies 140: New Testament World and Culture. These courses are designed as first-year core courses, not introductions to the religion major. Teaching Biblical Literature as a liberal arts core course taken primarily by first-year students poses a number of challenges. One of the most daunting is engaging students who enter college with wide ranging levels of academic preparedness. Because the goals of the course require students to learn to read analytically, examine the assumptions they bring to the text, consider alternative readings of texts, and relate texts to their historical context, differences in intellectual development and critical thinking skills are of particular concern. The course must challenge those who are better prepared for these tasks, so that they remain engaged, while supporting those who are not, so that they can successfully improve their skills. This paper will discuss the strategies that I have developed to address the challenge of enabling students with different levels of academic preparedness to be engaged in and attain the core educational goals of the Hebrew Bible World and Culture course. Strategies are based on a review of literature related to intellectual development, critical thinking, developmental education, and active learning and focus particularly on meeting the needs of first-year students. The paper will explain the theoretical underpinnings of particular strategies and invite participants in the session to consider applications to their own courses. While some of my materials have been developed over a number of years of teaching introductory Hebrew Bible courses, a sabbatical during the spring of 2009 has provided an opportunity to focus more intensely on revising the course to meet the needs of students with differing levels of preparedness.

Despite the fact that there is almost general agreement in historical Jesus scholarship that Jesus was a healer and exorcist, there is no agreement on what exactly he did when he healed the sick and exorcised demons. Viewpoints differ from actual miraculous deeds — acts with no explanation in human abilities (Meier) to the provision of therapeutic comfort (Crossan) and the restoration of cultural meaning (Pilch) or the healing of psychosomatic conditions (Davies). In this paper it is suggested that these positions are all informed by the biomedical understanding of illness and healing which, however, can be replaced by an integrated or biopsychosocial paradigm. The latter offers a different picture and understanding of both sickness and healing. Consequently, if Jesus is seen as some kind of traditional healer (such as, a shamanic figure) it is highly likely that he could have healed in the way claimed by the texts and that such healings indeed consisted of the alleviation of real biopsychosocial illness conditions. Within this framework the question of the historicity of the accounts is not merely a matter of corroborative (authentic) evidence for the healings but of grasping their nature as cultural healings. Seen in this way, the historicity of the healing accounts depends on understanding them as cultural realities — both in terms of the kind of illnesses encountered and of the healing procedures performed by Jesus.

This paper examines the motif of the ascent of the soul in the "Books of Jeu", by presenting the different spheres passed by the soul during its ascent and by describing the various characters that inhabit them. One of the particularities of the ascent of the soul in the "Books of Jeu" is that it is strongly marked by a sacramental aspect. The sacraments given by Jesus to his disciples have a dual function. Firstly, some are prior to the revelation of mysteries that the soul needs to know before its ascent. These mysteries are the seals, the ciphers and the formulas that compel the archons to withdraw themselves and to let the soul pass through. Secondly, other sacraments are required for the ascent itself, i.e. that the celestial powers will only withdraw themselves if the disciples have previously received them. The description of the ascent of the soul through the celestial spheres that is found in the "Books of Jeu" is unique. It is not a apocalyptic ascent in which the visionary receives a revelation on the nature and the inhabitants of the celestial spheres and then returns to earth to deliver his story and share his experience. The "Books of Jeu" are rather a practical and popular handbook for the soul who wishes to reach the inaccessible God.

This decade, biblical scholars blogging (or ‘biblioblogging’) has taken off dramatically. There are over 100 biblioblogs and many are widely read. They are an invaluable resource for understanding the ideological locations of scholarship, not least because scholars openly talk about broader cultural and political issues in addition to ‘standard’ biblical studies. Developing Edward Herman and Noam Chomsky’s political analysis of the mass media and intellectuals (the ‘Propaganda Model’), I previously looked at the ways in which bibliobloggers (consciously or unconsciously) replicate mass media support for elite political culture and dominant political trends in Anglo-American foreign policy (esp. Middle East), with dissenting views ignored or rejected. This included analysis of how these political trends have affected biblical interpretation of bibliobloggers and how these trends are reflected in biblical studies more broadly (Crossley, Jesus in an Age of Terror [2008], ch. 2). Unavailable at the time of publication was the only serious subverting of this model among bibliobloggers: the widely discussed, satirical and pseudonymous blog, ‘N. T. Wrong’ (retired January 2009). ‘N. T. Wrong’ was in many ways the polar opposite of the dominant political trends found among the bibliobloggers and so this paper will look at the ways ‘N. T. Wrong’ subverted these trends, particularly through use of a pseudonym and humour. However, the reception of ‘N. T. Wrong’ also shows how these dominant trends remain deeply embedded in biblioblogging and scholarship. ‘N. T. Wrong’ is the exception that proves the rule and the radical political content of the blog and biblical interpretation has regularly been ignored or rejected, despite being as widely discussed as any biblioblog. Yet ‘N. T. Wrong’ has shown ways to challenge the political assumptions of the bibliobloggers and at least deserves to be recognized as the first brilliant twenty-first century biblical studies spoof.

It is argued in this paper that intertextual studies of ancient scripture must be informed by the historical plausibility of specific claims. Thus, a consideration of the extent of a text’s circulation in the ancient world and its utilization in other ancient writings should be requisite components of any study that explores potential intertextual connections. The more widely a document was known and used in the ancient world, the more likely it will be that the influence of this same document is operative elsewhere. The present paper will apply these methodological considerations to one significant component of the Hebrew Bible: the Book of Deuteronomy. This will be done in two stages. The first will consider the textual history of Deuteronomy in both Second Temple Jewish and early Christian circles. Attention here will be given to such questions as the extent of Deuteronomy’s circulation in relation to other books of the Hebrew Bible, which portions of Deuteronomy have most often been found preserved, and the textual character of the extant copies of Deuteronomy. The second part of the paper will then focus on the use of Deuteronomy in early Jewish and Christian writings. Here I will discuss which portions of Deuteronomy were utilized most often, the types of documents in which Deuteronomy was used, and some of the interpretive methods employed with reference to Deuteronomy. The paper will conclude by offering some practical implications for intertextual studies relating to Deuteronomy specifically, as well as some broader methodological suggestions that will hopefully engender better exegesis and lead to the most historically defensible insights.

In this paper I employ Catharine Bell’s discussion of ‘ritual transformation’ to build upon a thesis I have argued elsewhere (Feasts in John [2007]) in dialogue with Adriana Destro and Mauro Pesce (primarily Antropologia delle origini cristiane [1997] and Come nasce una religione [2000]). In that monograph I contended that the Passover at John 6:4 is not to be read as a regular Passover, observed on 14 Nisan, but as a ‘Second Passover’, to be observed on 14 ’Iyyar; and that, in an earlier recension—when John 5 and 6 were inverted—the feasts in John (read as such) unfolded in a liturgical sequence of one year that functioned in service to (rather than in dialectic with) the coming of Jesus’ ‘hour’. This schema lost its tautness with the transposition of Chapters 6 and 5 to their current order, but it carried an anthropo-religious dynamic that is nonetheless sustained in the present narrative. The literary inclusio of the first and last Passovers functions also as the separation (Chapter 2) and incorporation (Chapters 12-19) phases of a rite of passage; and Jesus’ public ministry between them operates as a liminal period (eg, John 4:23; 5:25; 16:32), in which Judaic rituals and institutions are metaphorized and applied to new, Johannine counterparts. Specifically, rites of exchange are altered from the offering of birds and animals (John 2:14-16) to the crucifixion of Christ (eg, John 19:14), the ‘Father’s house’ is transformed from the edifice of the temple (John 2:16) to the indwelling of God by the Spirit (John 14:2, 23); and the means of achieving purity is changed from ablutions with water (John 2:6) to the reception of Jesus’ word (John 15:3; cf. 13:8-10).

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This paper reads the Book of Revelation through the lens of a post-black scripturalization, a reading strategy approached by a blending of the African American notion of double-consciousness with the postcolonial concepts of hybridity, mimicry/mockery and ambivalence. The reading will destabilize John's rhetorical strategy of resistance, by revealing that his non-accommodating stance toward the Roman empire is, in actuality, merely reinscribing the oppressive elements of the imperial ethos.

The episode of Jesus visiting Martha and Mary in Luke 10:38-42 has attracted much recent scholarly attention, due largely to questions it raises concerning gender roles, hierarchy, and ministry among certain Christians at the turn of the first century. I argue for interpreting this poignant story not in terms of the putative social and ecclesiological realities it might reflect, but as an integral part of a complex, nuanced, ongoing narrative discourse designed to inculcate in its audience a particular set of perceptional and ethical values. Attention to how authorial, sequential readers actualize and respond to pertinent aspects of the discourse up to, and immediately following, the episode reveals four primary factors woven together for the sake of forming reader character: (1) the urgent necessity of "proper" (ethically grounded) perception; (2) the obligations and limitations of taking action in response to the divine; (3) the deleterious effects of anxiety; and (4) the challenge to trust in divine providence.

Richard Hays and others have identified Rom 15:7-13 as the Achilles’ Heel for an all-gentile audience of Romans. In response, this paper offers seven lines of reasoning in support of an encoded gentile audience. First, the best solution to the syntactical challenges posed by 15:8-9a takes the infinitive doxasai (with ta ethne) as governed by the eis to of v. 8 in a parallel manner as (and a consequence) of the bebaiosai purpose clause. Paul’s focus in 15:8-9a remains primarily on the gentiles who now glorify God as result of Christ’s servanthood. Second, Paul’s identification of the Jewish people as “the circumcision” is hardly apt if he is addressing a Jewish Christian audience. The apostle has criticized those physically circumcised who are not circumcised in heart (2:25-3:30; 9:18). Third, Rom 15:6-9a links the Roman audience’s mutual welcoming “for the glory of God” with the gentiles’ glorifying God. Fourth, the Scripture citations in 15:9b-12 remain riveted on God’s purpose for the gentiles. Fifth, Rom 15:12-13 links the Roman audience’s hope with the hope of the gentiles. Sixth, contextually, the preceding paragraphs in Rom 14 identify the “weak” by the specific Jewish customs that were popular among gentile sympathizers of Judaism in Rome. Seventh, in 15:14-21 Paul says that he boldly writes the Romans precisely because of his calling to be a minister of Christ to the gentiles. Paul’s identification of the audience as the recipients of his gentile ministry conforms to a pattern elsewhere in the letter. Romans 15:7-13 within its immediate context therefore offers strong support for a gentile audience in Rome.

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If ever there were a city that would be defined by and known internationally for its music, it would be New Orleans. And that music, with its cultural roots in slavery, the spirituals and gospel music, has rather more of a biblical edge to it than might be expected. By looking at some classic Dixieland tunes, particularly the music of New Orleans great Louis Armstrong, including ‘The Saints’ and ‘Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego’, and reading the music in its cultural as well as its biblical contexts, this paper will highlight some of the biblical allusions which are so prominent in traditional jazz, before proceeding to investigate the broader issue of how popular culture takes up important biblical motifs and ideas and reinvents them, making them relevant to the contemporary community and utilising them as a tool of inspiration and liberation for the oppressed, and whether this phenomenon in any way can truthfully be considered biblical interpretation.

Specialists in the study of ancient parabiblical literature have been engaged for some time in a debate on what such literature should be called and how it should be studied. There is little agreement on terminology apart from the conclusion that the term "pseudepigrapha" is entirely unhelpful and should not be used. More broadly, it is widely agreed that these texts should be liberated from subjugation to the biblical canon and treated as worthy of study in their own right. With the More Old Testament Pseudepigrapha Project (MOTP) sending results to press in 2009, these issues take on a practical urgency, since the editors must make many decisions about how to arrange the texts, how to present them, and how to refer to them. Moreover, these decisions cannot be made in a vacuum. The Charlesworth volumes brought the term and concept "pseudepigrapha" into popular consciousness and solidified their use in scholarly discourse. These volumes also laid out implicit templates for how to organize and present the texts (e.g., arranging the texts by genre and showing a distinct tendency to find texts to be early and Jewish rather than later and Christian). The editors of the MOTP have to take this background into account in order to provide a publication that is intelligible both to specialists in cognate fields and to the general public, while advancing their understanding of the current state of the question and maintaining the integrity of the work for specialists in parabiblical literature. This paper discusses the practical problems encountered by the MOTP editors as they organized the project and prepared the texts for publication. These included the principles for selecting which texts to publish, how to arrange the texts in the actual publication, how to present them, and what title to give the whole work.

The classification of MSS. from the Qumran scrolls has proved to be fraught with difficulties, and this is clearly demonstrated in the assignment of material to the composition designated by Devorah Dimant as the Apocryphon of Jeremiah C. Most recently, Cana Werman has challenged her arrangement of the texts, and has argued that these scrolls rather belong to two separate works: the Apocryphon of Jeremiah C (4Q385a, 4Q387, 4Q388a, 4Q389, 4Q387a), and Pseudo-Moses (4Q390). This re-configuration is based on the lack of overlaps present in 4Q390 with any of the other Apocryphon texts, different themes, and alternative methods for calculating eschatological epochs. While Werman has provided a better explanation than Dimant for the two eschatological sections that dominate the MSS., her article does not adequately address the many “verbal and thematic links”—particularly with the narrative section in 4Q385a frg. 18—that originally convinced Dimant to include 4Q390 among the Apocryphon texts. In this paper I shall attempt to resolve the discrepancies between Dimant’s and Werman’s interpretation of the six MSS. assigned to the Apocryphon. Dimant’s sequence shows a clear relationship between all the scrolls as part of an ancient Jewish apocalypse featuring the prophet Jeremiah. In Werman’s study of the two eschatological sections she has argued for situating these in separate milieus. However, I propose that what Werman has detected is actually part of a three-stage redactional process in the transmission of a single composition. I shall briefly discuss the unique ideological and thematic features of each of the eschatological sections, and how they are informed by the historical framing of the narrative from 4Q385a frg. 18. I will then demonstrate how they attest to the transformation of the Apocryphon from an anti-Hellenistic polemic for the Jewish Diaspora into a sharp internal critique of the Hasmonean priesthood.

Odes 13 is a brief beautiful poem which obviously conveys the experience of insight through the reflective mirror of Christ. Not so obvious, however is the exact nature of the insight precipitated or by what aspect of the mirror/Christ is insight mediated. It is the task of this paper to explore what the nature of other the insight given and the reflective agent(s) implied in the Ode. This will be accomplished by looking at both positive and negative references to the mirror and things seen in them in Hellenistic literature, the New Testament, the Gnostic and Hermetic corpus, the Greek Fathers—especially Clement of Alexandria as well as in Syriac literature—here especially Ephrem. Particular attention will be given to the reference to “them” in line one: “Open the eyes and see them in Him” which has been taken as a mistranslation and that the original might have been, “…Open your eyes and see yourselves in Him. (so S. Brock, "The Imagery of the Spiritual Mirror" JCSSS [2005] 4, following M. Lattke, Oden Salomos NTOA 47/1, p. 250-51). It will be suggested that there may be several ways in which to understand this plural pronoun in terms of the agent(s) of insight found in the mirror of Christ.

One of the most well-known stories from the Infancy Gospels is that of Jesus turning clay figures of birds into live sparrows. In addition to the early Greek Infancy Gospel of Thomas, it also appears in the Latin Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew as well as in related Syriac, Arabic, and Armenian traditions about Jesus’ youth. In ancient art, birds were a common visual motif, one closely associated with children but also with virility and adult male sexuality. Children in the Graeco-Roman world played with toys modeled after birds and kept birds as pets, while birds were also used as technological props for negotiating encounters with the divine in magical spells and in oracular practice. By viewing the various versions of this infancy story in relation to such cultural practices, I will argue that, for ancient readers, Jesus’ miracle with the birds was designed to underscore simultaneously his experience of a typical human childhood and his embodiment of (a particularly male) divine potency.

The interaction of literary criticism, especially intertextuality and imitation, with the quest for rhetorical functionality and theological meaning in the Pauline Epistles has transformed scholarship’s understanding of the autobiographical section in Galatians from one that was limited to a historical and chronological reconstruction of Paul’s life within Judaism and his mission to the Gentiles to a much wider understanding of the theological import and function of these chapters within the whole of the epistle, e.g. Gaventa’s “autobiography as paradigm” and Lategan’s proposal that the autobiographical section presents a divine/human contrast and is of “decisive importance” for the rest of the letter. I will argue that the autobiographical statements have an additional function within Paul’s theological argument: to contrast the gospel that he received through the revelation of Jesus Christ with septuagintal demands for obedience to the Mosaic law. The intertextual connection between the autobiographical section and septuagintal demands for covenantal obedience is clarified by reading Paul’s thesis statement (Gal 1:11-12) in relation to the preceding curse and stress on the contrast between pleasing humanity and being a slave of Christ (1:8-10). It is my contention that Paul draws on numerous phrases from Esdrae liber II, especially 19:1-20:40 (Goettingen ed.), in order to present a mimetic reversal of the separation of the “sons of Israel” from the “people of the land,” which played a vital role in the historical understanding of the covenant renewal that took place in Ezra-Nehemiah. By presenting a mimetic reversal, or rhetorical parody, of the renewal of the covenant and its demands for keeping the Mosaic law, Paul is setting the stage for his entire theological argument for a law-free gospel and the inclusion of the uncircumcised Gentiles that he presents in Gal 3 and 4.

Throughout the ages lexicographers working on Biblical Hebrew -- and other languages of the Bible that are no longer spoken in the same form today -- have been struggling to determine the meaning of words. This always has been especially difficult in the case of the so-called hapax legomena and other words with a limited distribution in the available texts. Many lexica of Biblical Hebrew strongly rely on data from related languages in their efforts to establish the meaning of lexical items. This type of information, however, is not always very dependable. This paper investigates how a thorough semantic analysis of Biblical Hebrew from a cognitive linguistic perspective can help to reconstruct a kind of "semantic grid" for this language, and how this grid provides the lexicographer with more certainty in his/her efforts to determine the meaning of "difficult" words. The advantages of this method will be illustrated with a number of Hebrew words with an uncertain meaning.

In this contribution, I will first describe the different Greek texts that could have been available to the authors/editors of the New Testament texts. I will also put the different Greek texts in a texthistorical survey. Then I will focus on the quotations of the text of 2 Samuel in the New Testament and study which versions of the texts were precisely used.

The characterization of the apocalyptic genre as a diminished successor to the prophetic genre fails to appreciate the distinctive nature of the genre and the unique insights and challenges it offers in situations of crisis. When the apocalyptic is compared with the prophetic, evocative symbols become simplistic allegorical ciphers. The focus is narrowly nationalistic. Calls for ethical conduct become passive escapist hopes for God to step into the realm of history and act for them. Texts are limited to their particular historical context and represent the wistful dreams of oppressed people. Apocalyptic literature is dismissed as an opiate for self-satisfied people to castigate their enemies and congratulate themselves. However, when apocalyptic texts are read as their own genre, they describe the world in a way that offers an evocative challenge for faithfulness and action. Rather than being read as a spiritualized presentation of a historical circumstance, an apocalyptic text is a disclosure of ongoing spiritual dynamics which find expression in human experience beyond that event. Rather than encouraging passivity by observing God’s unilateral actions to fulfill a predetermined program, apocalyptic texts challenge the reader to recognize a more profound, universal, and cosmic dimension to their life situation and to connect their spiritual hopes and aspirations to confusing, confounding, and ominous aspects of their lived reality. While apocalyptic texts offer no call for a specific program of activity in the world, they compel readers to conduct themselves and understand the world differently. The reader is not a passive observer of the unfolding future event but an active participant of its actualization. Although Paul Ricoeur’s hermeneutic approach does not address apocalyptic texts to any degree, it provides insight which this paper explores.

Many of the students at the protestant institution where I teach "know" their Bibles. They have memorized and recited scripture verses most of their lives—mostly from the New Testament, of course. But the psalms are also favored by Sunday school and Bible study teachers. Psalms 1, 5, 22, 23, 42, 51, 100, 121, and 139 (or at least portions of them) are sung and memorized and recited. The words become familiar and rote; the structure (and often even the meaning) of the psalms are lost in the endlessly repetitive recitation. One of my tasks as Professor of Old Testament and Biblical Languages is to train students to read and study the poetry of the Psalter in a manner that, first, is true to the tradition of Hebrew poetry and, second, provides the best insight possible into the theology of the Psalter. This paper will address a number of "familiar" psalms and discuss how an examination of their morphological, grammatical, syntactical, and poetic structures can move the reader to a new level of understanding of their theologies.

Matthean scholarship was once booming and one of the centers of New Testament research. And it's probably not just a biased prejudice when a German scholar claims that the initial thrust behind the heyday of Matthean scholarship, in the early second half of the 20th century, came from German-writing scholars such as Bornkamm, Frankemölle, Hummel, Strecker, Walker and many more. Since then, however, it appears that these former glories have largely vanished: Matthean studies have relinquished their prominence within the study of the New Testament and the understanding of early Christianity. What was once at the center has become marginal and even a bit isolated. One can get the impression that the study of Matthew's Gospel is just one of (too) many subsections of New Testament studies and hardly the most inspiring and important one. German scholarship on Matthew mirrors this trend in that more recent German speaking scholarship (with some exceptions, of course) has proven itself to be methodologically dependent on and influenced to a large degree by predominantly anglo-saxon scholarship. This is not to say that this influence on German scholarship forced it to the periphery. But it could be taken as indicative of a a decline in creativity and originality. The paper seeks to explore what might be the reason for this decline, or, put more provocatively, 'Why did Matthean scholarship become so boring?' The answer I am seeking to defend is that Matthew was once thought to be an authentic and reliable source for Jesus and Christian discipleship. The influence of the first Gospel from the second century to the twentieth cannot be overestimated. But at this point in time Matthew has to a large extent been reduced to his specific profile (as a result of the strong influence of redactional criticism) and, related to it, to the questions regarding his own resp. his community's relation to Judaism. In other words, Matthew is mainly used as a source for the conflict-laden situation between Jews, Jewish-Christians and non-Jewish followers of Jesus Christ in the time between 70 and 90 C.E. My thesis is therefore: The understating of Matthew's theological and canonical meaning, partly because of his insistance upon topics which are considered embarrassing for a politically correct Christianity, stands at the heart of his historical domestication and, as a result of it, his marginalization.`

This paper will look at how different types of training, such as continental vs. common-law training, can influence how one interprets ancient legal texts and the systems they represent.

This paper reports on a qualitative study to assess the importance of feminist analysis for the teaching of the Hebrew Bible in Indonesia today. This research was conducted with academics and alumni from theological schools in Indonesia to add to knowledge of the way women academics use, evaluate, and extend feminist analysis in their own field of research, and teaching in particular; the way women academics in Indonesia use and critique feminist analysis that comes from North America; and the way women academics in Indonesia portray the future of feminist studies in Indonesia. This study revealed the perception that women academics in Indonesia believe that they and the rest of the people in Indonesia need feminist analysis in their lives. According to them, feminist analysis has raised their self-confidence and self-esteem and has empowered them to let their voices be heard by others. Thus, in their vision, feminist analysis should be taught widely so that other people, both women and men, will also enjoy the benefit of this approach. In summary, all the participants believe that using feminist analysis will help women and men share power equally so that they can work hand-in-hand to develop Indonesia. Further reflection on this data suggests how biblical studies methods will help address this situation. I make the case that the combination of postcolonial feminist theory, narrative analysis and sociological methods is the approach that can be used to interpret the Bible.

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The inscription commonly referred to as "Sefire I" is a treaty that contains a section of curses that were accompanied by ritual acts. Among these acts are "blinding" a wax man, melting a(nother?) wax man, cutting a calf in two, and breaking a bow and arrows. These ritual acts all signify what will happen to the weaker party of the treaty were he to break the oath. This paper examines two particular clauses of this section, one which involves a "gnb'" and another which involves a "znyh." The natural translation of these terms is "thief" and "prostitute," but no interpreter thus far has understood these characters as an actual human thief or prostitute. This paper will draw upon Near Eastern sources, especially biblical sources, to demonstrate that the natural reading of the text makes perfect sense, and that a real thief was killed and a real prostitute was stripped and struck as part of the treaty ritual.

In several places the Old Greek of the Minor Prophets diverges from the MT in ways which could suggest that the translator is trying to engage his readers and to encourage a response to the religious, moral and ethical challenges of the prophetic message. Exhortatory and moralising touches are already present in the MT but, through an examination of selected passages, this paper will suggest that the translator of the Twelve has a particular interest in developing them, and that one of his influences might be the genre of Hellenistic Greek protreptic philosophy.

This paper is an attempt to explore the distinct historical contexts and historiographic implications pertaining to the use of vaticinia ex eventu (Lat. "prophecies after the event") in a series of biblical texts and Mesopotamian cuneiform documents. This literary technique, whose religious purposes and sociological effects and motivations remain mostly obscure, was apparently widely known and used in the ancient Near East, from Egypt to Mesopotamia, as early as the 2nd millennium BCE, and, indeed, post-event predictions have found a place in many of the world's religious traditions. Interpreters have rarely made a methodologically coherent effort to consider the appearance of the ex eventu phenomenon in the biblical corpus, and, to broaden the scale considerably, no one has yet attempted to consider the use of vaticinia ex eventu as a widely-employed ancient Near Eastern historiographic trope. Interestingly, those who have commented on the purpose of the ex eventu technique are mostly content to note that such prophecies primarily serve to bolster the "legitimacy" or "credibility" of the document in which they appear. This view, though widespread, is fraught with difficulties; it is my contention that we should not continue to speak about vaticinia ex eventu in terms of "propaganda" or "legitimation," but rather as a complex historiographic phenomenon that engenders Mesopotamian and biblical traditions regarding the nature of time and “history” and the authority of inspired interpreters to speak about the future and the past. Toward these ends, I will propose some new methodological considerations for understanding the historiographic implications of vaticinia ex eventu, drawn from the history of philosophy and religious studies from Plato and Augustine to Proust and Freud, and then provide reflection on whether, or to what extent, such methodologies can be useful in discussing the ancient Near Eastern religio-historical environment.

More than twenty years ago, Ada Yardeni published a series of ostraca in a first century ‘Jewish’ script from a private collection. Largely ignored by scholarship on the Second Temple period, three of these ostraca record the delivery of certain items such as fig cakes for a number of weekdays of which the Sabbath is the one most frequently mentioned. If they belong into a Jewish context, these ostraca may attest to a Sabbath praxis that is not regulated by the prohibition of transportation, and perhaps also of commerce, as witnessed by other ancient Jewish traditions. The present paper will re-examine the ostraca in the context of contemporary Jewish evidence and also relate their value as documentary texts to the ‘angled’ pictures emerging from the texts of the elites that usually inform our view of Sabbath praxis in the first century.

This paper utilizes economic theory developed in the study of pre-industrial economies, in which economic exchange is seen to involve reciprocity, redistribution and market exchange (Polanyi). Sahlins' model for ancient peasant societies argues that they differ in viewing economic production from the point of view of a fixed base ("limited goods") rather than on open-ended expanding production as in modern societies. They base production on social units for kinship, with the goal of securing their livelihood based on the “principle of need”. Reciprocity and redistribution is a relation between parties aimed at symmetry, in which there are three recognizable forms of reciprocity: “Generalized reciprocity,” “Balanced reciprocity and “Negative reciprocity”. Following the lines explored by Rohrbaugh and Moxnes, this paper applies the theory of "moral economy" to the economic relations which can be discerned across the whole of the Didache, which have rarely received much attention apart from the attempt to argue that it does or does not derive from a rural milieu (Harnack, Kraft, Niederwimmer, contra Schöllgen).

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This paper picks up on Douglas’s insight that bodily impurity often comes from a sense that the body’s boundaries—and thus the social boundaries—have been transgressed. As Howard Eilberg-Schwartz has refined Douglas’s point, not all bodily fluids are considered impure and some are more impure than others, a fact which has to do with both gender and the degree to which the fluid can be intentionally controlled. I will look at issues of purity in Mark’s gospel and the movement from the uncontrolled, contaminating bleeding of the woman in chapter five to the super-controlled and presumably pure blood of Jesus in chapter fourteen. The issues of blood and purity outline the gospel’s ambivalence between presenting Jesus’ death as an intentional, sacred sacrifice and as a profane and almost accidental evil.

The message of a text and the form within which that message is conveyed work together. Even more than in prose, in poetic passages the form is an integral part of the whole. What happens to a text when it undergoes translation? Does the message of the source language remain intact when, of necessity, the form is transformed into that of the target language? What types of compromises are made and what are their effects? Drawing on the experience of comparing the Masoretic and the Peshitta text of the two books of Kings, Psalm 25 will be considered in the Hebrew and Syriac versions. The differences observed will be categorized and evaluated as to whether they represent a faithful representation or a deviation from the source text as we know it.

‘Priest’ is a misleading translation of the term kohen, which included a range of sub-specialties and was not limited to the offering of sacrifices on the altar and the manipulation of sacrificial blood. ‘Diviner’ or ‘oracle-giver’ might be a more appropriate translation; the offering of sacrifices was often an integral part of larger rituals associated with the determination of the divine will. I will explore the range of roles that the HB texts suggest were engaged in by functionaries labelled kohanim: givers of oracles, omen-interpreters, consulters of Yahweh via the Urim and Tummim, and dream interpreters. These roles may have been standard in the monarchic era cult and many would have continued in the Persian-era cult, and later.

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For more than one century, research on the theme of sacrifice in the prophetic books has been dominated by one question: Did the classical prophets (e.g., Amos and Jeremiah) reject the sacrificial cult? A consensus is not yet in sight. Arguably, the time has come for a new approach. In this paper, some preliminary results from a work in progress will be presented. The project focuses on rhetorical and metaphorical usage of sacrificial language in the prophetic literature in the Hebrew Bible. Rhetorical analysis will be applied on a selection of the most relevant texts, in an attempt to answer the following questions: To what extent are words and expressions connected to the sacrificial cult used in passages dealing with other topics than sacrifice? Which rites, and which aspects of these rites, provide the basis for the construction of metaphors? Which aspects are downplayed? How can the rhetorical purpose be defined in each case? Who or what is depicted as the victim? In this way it will be possible to obtain a refined understanding of rhetorical strategies and ideological issues in the prophetic literature. A study like this may also have a bearing on the reconstruction of symbolical and theological interpretations of the rites performed within the sacrificial cult of ancient Judah and Israel. A number of passages from the books of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel will be discussed.

Remarkably for the series in which he writes, The NIV Life Application Commentary, Scott Hafemann is reluctant to say that Paul’s experience of power in weakness in 2 Corinthians applies to his readers, then or now. He also faults J. H. Schütz for seeing Paul’s suffering as reflective of general Christian experience. Moreover, Margaret Thrall’s ICC: 2 Corinthians states: “[H]e is not here concerned with the application to all believers of his own claim to be strong in conditions of weakness.” In their study of 2 Corinthians 10-13, scholars tend to focus on Paul’s defense and his opponents; they typically miss clues in the text suggesting that he had concerns beyond his own apostleship. Paul states: “Do you think that all this time we have been defending ourselves to you? Before God we speak in Christ. Everything, beloved, is for building you up” (2 Cor. 12:19). My analysis of 2 Corinthians 10-13 suggests that Paul not only defends his ministry but also, through his personal example, teaches the Corinthian congregation the way that power and weakness cohere in Christian life and leadership. I will demonstrate that Paul carries out these aims by rooting his own experience in Christ, who “was crucified in weakness but lives by the power of God. We are weak in him, but we will live by God’s power…” (2 Cor. 13:4). I will argue that Paul bases his manner of holding power and weakness together not on a foundation unique to his apostleship but instead on the far broader basis of believers' participation in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The categories that surround and describe Paul’s example--grace, weakness, power, and other participatory expressions--are not ones that Paul relegates to apostles alone. Therefore Paul’s words speak beyond his own ministry, depicting for the Corinthians a life of genuine participation in Christ.

A study of gestural communication in antiquity leads to tantalizing glimpses of the gestures and nonverbal communication of Jesus. It also raises prickly questions concerning what was “lost in translation/transition” in the shift from oral narration to the written narrative of Mark. A Markan inventory of gestures and nonverbal communication is presented--what every director of Hollywood biblical epics should know.

This has a long pedigree going as far back as the patristic consideration of the relationship of Logos to logoi not least in homiletics. In the second millennium this verbum simplex was a key feature of Lutheran preaching through to modern evangelicalism and also the theology of Gerhard Ebeling, notably in his 1962 Theologie und Verkundigung : ein Gesprach mit Rudolf Bultmann. Paradoxically this abstracting might not be the best way of communicating in concrete terms, in the way that the text was once concrete in the proclaimed message and implications to the audience of Paul or Isaiah. One reason for this is the issue of 'theological encyclopedia', which Ebeling regarded as learning skills of discernment of the gospel in every subject, from OT background to Practical Theology itself (including literature and culture. (Leonhard Hell has sketched the history of 'theological encyclopedia up to Schleiermacher.) The hermeneutical and homiletical task of putting the word into words again is by-passed in the attempt to abstract a 'word' that would link the sub-disciplines. Homiletics comes in as an additional art or craft not a science, once all the exciting theology is over. Given a theological account of proclamation as resting on Ascension and Pentecost, preaching which tries to put the language, imagery and ideas of the bible into a code ('the Word') which it then tries to decode can only end in a very thin and subjective account of practical theology. The Word needs to be seen as clothed in the words-of Scripture and its analogues: the Deus revelatus as the counterpoint to the Deus nudus. The 'exposition' sections of commentaries have their place as model attempts to narrow down interpretation and give it a focus, yet without leaving behind the world and words of the text.

A passage in the Palestinian Talmud declares that one who reads the Book of Ben Sira forfeits a place in “the World-to-Come.” Generations later, the rabbis of the Babylonian Talmud quote the prohibition and, after a lengthy discussion, conclude that “we may expound the valid things” in the Book of Ben Sira without forfeiting a place in the World-to-Come. Rather than announcing a break with the Palestinian Talmud’s ruling, the Babylonian rabbis accomplish the reversal by redefining the labels used in the prohibition, thereby rehabilitating most of the text for public use. By this means, the rabbinic “chain of tradition” is maintained while the tradition accommodates to changing conditions over time. The semantic gap between the edicts in the two Talmuds may reflect political upheavals during the temporal interval that separates the writers’ worlds—yet these upheavals are invisible in the discourse that shifts the verdict on the Book of Ben Sira. I will suggest possible configurations for the Rabbis’ unnamed opponents and describe how the Book of Ben Sira could be a liability or an asset in textual confrontations with these groups. The rabbinic texts and their discursive strategies of exclusion and rehabilitation are relevant to general discussions of the construction, maintenance, and recalibration of group identity. However, the intensity and scope of the rabbinic discussions are also a gauge of the Book of Ben Sira’s importance to the Rabbis.

“Oppressive language does more than represent violence; it is violence” (Toni Morrison). The paper introduces a recent Bible translation into German that responds to this problem: „Bibel in gerechter Sprache“ (Bible in just language). The translation was a contextual project taking into account feminist exegesis, Christian-Jewish dialogue, and liberationist exegesis. Alongside some textual examples the paper will focus on two general issues: (1) Gender-sensitive translation and (2) the performative power of (unjust) language. A gender-sensitive translation involves more than inclusive language, since it is confronted with gender-specific language. For example, how should we translate the term for the cultic state of women during her menstruation (niddah) which is used in some places misogynistly? In a second part the specific question of how to translate texts in which violence plays a prominent role shall be discussed. Cross-references to recent translations like „The Contemporary Torah“ will be made. Finally the author, who herself was engaged as translator in the project, will discuss the possibilities and limitations of Bible translations. The plea will be for an intercultural hermeneutics of translation, understanding translation as contextualization.

Paul’s efforts to influence those to whom he writes have attracted some scholarly attention, with important milestones including Bengt Holmberg’s Paul and Power: The Structure of Authority in the Primitive Church as Reflected in the Pauline Epistles (1978) and Elizabeth Castelli’s Imitating Paul: A Discourse of Power (1991). This paper approaches the issue from a new direction using an area of social psychology initially developed by John Turner an dknown as self-categorisation theory, which is closely related to the social identity theory of Henri Tajfel with whom Turner worked at the University of Bristol, England in the 1970s and 1980s. In a 2005 essay Turner argued strongly against a traditional social psychological theory of power, namely, that power is the capacity for influence, that influence is based on control of resources valued or desired by others and that this mutual dependence between people produces a psychological group. Turner argued instead that psychological group formation produces influence, that influence is the basis for power and that power leads to the control of resources. On this view, power emerges from group formation, social organization, and shared beliefs, histories and values which shape social and personal identity and perceived self-interest. Here a leader achieves success through negotiation, not coercion. Turner’s approach will be used to provide a fresh agenda of questions to put to 2 Corinthians, with interesting results for the way Chapters 1-7 pave the way for the collection in Chapters 8-9 and for the place of Chapters 10-13 in this text. Ancient Greco-Roman approaches to friendship will be introduced to help explain particular aspects of Paul’s argumentative strategy.

The Chronicler's account of the reign of Ahaz of Judah (2 Chronicles 28) has invariably been read in comparison with the account in 2 Kings 16 (his putative Vorlage). Though the Chronicler follows the general outline of 2 Kings 16 there are numerous differences between the accounts (including the insertion of an encounter between Israelites and a prophet) which interpreters have explained in various ways. Interestingly, 2 Chronicles 32:32 references the "vision of Isaiah" (which is the editorial incipit and natural title of the canonical book) as a source employed by the Chronicler, inviting the interpreter to view Chronicles in dialogue with the book of Isaiah. Following this lead, this study will examine the relationship between 2 Kings 16, Isaiah 7 and 2 Chronicles 28, drawing on Bakthin's ideas of dialogism. While in the context of the Syro-Ephraimite threat, Isaiah 7 emphasized the need for Ahaz to trust in Yahweh (Isa 7:9) and clearly predicts that Assyria will trouble Ahaz severely (Isa 7:17), in 2 Kings 16 Ahaz's trust in/appeal to Assyria appears to successfully end the Syro-Ephramite threat as Assyria comes to his aid. The potential for conflict between these texts is obvious. As well, the insertion of a new prophetic story into the Ahaz narrative may be influenced by the prophetic encounter between Isaiah and Ahaz in Isaiah 7. This study suggests that the texts of Isaiah and 2 Kings are positions that are answered by Chronicles.

This paper argues that the meaning of the word “ekklesia” changes from the time of Paul’s letters to the writing of Acts. First, I argue that Paul’s use of the word is restricted to its semantic range up to the mid first century, and that he uses the word in a way that, more specifically, reflects its use in the LXX and in Philo. Here, I agree with Caroline Johnson Hodge that, rather than spreading/creating a new religion called Christianity, Paul is adopting gentiles into the family of Abraham, effectively making them Jews (or, fictive “kin” to Jews). Secondly, I will demonstrate that “ekklesia” in Acts bears new associations which point to the formation of a new social identity (Christianos). These associations are then written back into Paul’s era by the author, which contributes to the construction of a singular myth of origins for Christianity. It is this singular myth of origins which compelled Irenaeus to save Acts from obscurity and use it towards formulating Christian orthodoxy. Ultimately this paper intends to address two issues: 1) the inadequacy of some translation practices in NT studies which obscure the processual development of language and protect/preserve an essentialist Christian myth of origins, and 2) the necessity of looking at this processual development to understand social formation.

This paper looks at the similarities and differences of Isaac as priest in Testament of Isaac and two earlier works in which Isaac is presented as a priestly figure, Jubilees and Aramaic Levi Document, and its rhetorical significance for T. Isaac. This paper argues that T. Isaac transforms the earlier traditions, in which Isaac as priest is less important than the establishment of Levi’s priesthood, by emphasizing Isaac while also ignoring Levi’s priesthood. The emphasis upon Isaac enhances the authority of the patriarch in comparison to other priesthoods when he exhorts his audience concerning ritual and moral purity. This representation of Isaac in T. Isaac assists the text in privileging a conception of priesthood which is not dependent upon biological lineage.

We in the West do not readily identify theologian with poet, theology with poetry. Theology and the poetic have, however, been partners for a very long time. The Hebrew Bible, for instance, is soaked in poetry. It flows into the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, and even into the Greek, Latin, Coptic, and Slavonic translations in which they have reached us. Poetics also has a distinctive place in the Greek New Testament. A poetic form of theologizing also found a central place in the Syriac Orient. Poetry’s intricate artistry was inseparable from the theological task. Furthermore, the story of poetry in the classical Syriac tradition is embedded in the earliest Syriac translations of the Greek New Testament. The poetic is introduced where it is absent in the source text and heightened where it is present. This is particularly true of the Peshitta version. At the core of this paper is the contention that this aspect of the early Syriac versions has not been taken with sufficient critical seriousness. To do so encounters us with pertinent questions: What is the nature and extent of poetry and the poetic in these versions, especially in the Peshitta version? How does one evaluate the poetic when it renders a basically prose source? Is a methodology devisable? Does this literary vehicle constitute a translational genre? What purpose did it serve? What impact did it have upon the audiences for which it was intended? What is its relation to its cultural milieu and to the great Syriac poets of the period? Is there a connection, for instance, between the poetic in these translations and “Ephrem’s theology ... often called ‘symbolical’ or ‘poetical’ and, as such ...considered to be unequalled in the history of Christianity” (Kees den Biesen, /Simple and Bold/). What does the conscious inclusion of a poetic art form in the early Syriac versions tell us about their theology, “contextual” exegesis, ecclesiology, liturgical intentions, attitude towards “scriptural” source texts, and about the period which produced them? In summary, can the study of this poetic dimension help take us closer to the heart of the historical, cultural and socio-literary forces that were at work in producing these early translations? And as a result can they help us examine them afresh as works of serious bilingual scholarship that sought to weave form, content and function into an integrated whole? The evidence leads to a “Yes.”

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This paper examines the origins of mikveh rituals in the heterogeneous culture of Judea in the late Second Temple period. I trace patterns of cultural expression revealed by choices to build ritual and non-ritual baths and relate those choices to local engagement with imperial cultural norms. I compare baths built by Herod to those built by other elite Judeans, demonstrating how the Judean elites drew on a broad range of local and imperial precedents in order to express themselves. Ultimately, the symbols that they chose demonstrated their adherence to local cultural traditions while the physical spaces in which they bathed were molded by their interaction with the symbolic language and culture of the empire – a hybridity produced by Roman hegemony in Judea. The case study of Herod and his contemporary Judean elites strengthens our understanding of the development of Judean culture and religion during the early Roman period. In this way, we can bring the eastern provinces of the Roman Empire into the on-going discussion of Romanization from the western provinces. Theories of Romanization in the west have hypothesized the pivotal role of the local elite in the adoption and transmission of Roman culture. However, in searching for models of how such elite emulation may have worked, these studies have overlooked the well-attested case of Herod. This paper re-reads Herod’s relationship to Rome in light of models of elite emulation developed in the western empire. From this, we can start to make comparisons between this process in Judea and other Roman provinces, revealing which aspects of the Judean experience were unique and which were common to all provinces of Rome.

2 Timothy has relatively few direct references to Scripture, though still more than the two unquestioned letters of 1 Thessalonians and Philippians. This paper examines the various uses of Scripture in 2 Timothy, focusing on both the "what" and the "how" of this usage.

Along with deported populations and prisoners of war, the complex historical narratives that characterize Neo-Assyrian art include images of the seizure and recording of foreign booty. Acknowledging representation as a selective and constitutive practice/act, this paper examines the ways in which booty was depicted in Assyrian visual culture. It considers which features were considered necessary to be visually signaled as “other” or non-Assyrian and when, in contrast, distinctions between Assyrian and non-Assyrian were blurred. In conjunction with this analysis, the paper also explores the continuum of categories of “seized items” from people to gods, livestock and raw materials, to finely crafted luxury goods, arguing that the different categories both shared features in common (eg. terminology and the concept of war spoils) and differed in their roles within Assyrian imperialism (whether logistical, economic, or ideological).

Since the publication of Johannes Herz’ “Grossgrundbesitz in Palaestina im Zeitalter Jesu” in 1928, it has been assumed that Jesus’ parables were alluding to real economic conditions in Lower Galilee. He has been followed by M. Hengel, S. Krauss, S. Klein, and S. Freyne who have found evidence for the large estates in not only the New Testament Gospels but also in Josephus and the rabbinic literature. The problem with these conclusions is that there is, to date, no archaeological evidence for the large estates. That they existed in the Great Plain, however, seems demonstrated both by literary sources and archaeological remains. Were the parables referencing the estates of the nearby Great Plain or the socio-economic conditions of Lower Galilee. Was there the kind of poverty and exploitation that usually comes with tenant farming and day-laborer work or were those details simply window dressing in the parables? Settling the question of the existence of large estates in Lower Galilee may have a significant impact on how we view the socio-economic evidence of the Gospels.

The early post-exilic literature has been at the center of a lively debate in the last half century, on the relationship between prophetic and apocalyptic literature. Proto-Zechariah is often placed in the middle of this debate because he primarily communicates his message with visions that have an eschatological orientation. Visions feature prominently in apocalyptic literature and eschatology is the subject matter of this genre. However, scholarly opinions vary as to what exactly is the nature of the connection between this prophet and apocalypticism. In this paper I will examine two issues. First I will attempt to show that there are several types of eschatology. Then I will examine how Proto-Zechariah’s eschatological viewpoint relates to prophetic and apocalyptic eschatology. It is my contention that there are more types of eschatological thinking than prophetic and apocalyptic. I will further argue that Proto-Zechariah’s eschatological worldview developed in direct correspondence to the socio-historical particularities of his time and as such it is different from other types of eschatological thinking. My conclusion is that the prophet refers to the near future. This future is eschatological insofar as it constitutes a renewal, a definitive break with the present order. This future also happens to have a clear political character. With Proto-Zechariah the messianic candidate is a real live human being who lived in the midst of their community. He is not an obscure person that will appear in the indefinite future. In the history of the messianic ideas and eschatological expression, this is exceptional and it constitutes an innovation. It is then appropriate to recognize it as such. I choose to label it as restoration eschatology because it offers a clear example of an eschatological transformation that is about to happen in the specific context of the restoration.

Throughout his many works, Moshe Idel has consistently interrogated academic boundaries drawn between mystical literature and the practice of mysticism. This paper will examine the impact of this eminent scholar's works on several facets of the study of religious experience, especially his articulations of ascents, the relationship of apocalypses and mysticism, and recent collaborations in neuroscience and mysticism. I will comment on several volumes and articles, in particular: Kabbalah: New Perspectives (Yale: 1990), The Mystical Experience in Abraham Abulafia (SUNY Press, 1988), Ascensions on High in Jewish Mysticism: Pillars, Lines and Ladders (Central European University press, 2005) and Studies in Ecstatic Kabbalah (SUNY Press: 2007).

After decades of attention, the Late Bronze Age social category called `apiru seems to have run out of interest. Whether or not they stand in any relation to the Bible’s Hebrews, there is nothing left to say: they are “independent renegades” (Killebrew) or “social bandits” (Dever), people who have cut ties to their settled homes, like David’s desert band (1 Sam 22:1-2). The negative slant comes especially from the Amarna letters, where `apiru identity indicates disloyalty to Egypt and life outside social bounds. Many of these references are political invective, however, and as a whole, the Amarna evidence does not provide a basis for definition as social outcasts. The root meaning describes someone who leaves home for a new residence, in neutral terms (so Liverani, “fugitive”). Many Late Bronze cuneiform texts present the `apiru as a class, not necessarily to be feared, and the question is how to understand their social location. The integration of mobile communities with permanent settlement is easily underestimated, certainly in the case of pastoralists, partly because ancient town-based writers often described such people by the trait that set them apart as outsiders. Such mobile or displaced populations maintained ties with settled kin. One Hurrian text lists persons of `apiru class along with further identifying details, often the place of origin. These are neither outcasts nor renegades, and there is no reason to assume they have cut ties with the named towns. They may send home earned income and remain part of that economy. In biblical terms, the closest analogue may be the ger, the outsider “client” whom the Bible promises fair treatment – for Israel had been a community of gerîm in Egypt (Exod 22:20). David’s true outcasts should be considered another category entirely.

Using computer-implemented phrase structure grammars followed by over-reader completion and correction, Frank Andersen and I have tagged the clause immediate constituents (CICs) in each clause of the Hebrew Bible, assigning to each CIC its grammatical function or semantic role. This has enabled us to define the distances separating the verbal roots attested in Biblical Hebrew, a non-trivial task. This presentation explains the process of computing the distances and provides illustrations in terms of the affinities among frequent verbal-root frames.

This paper provides an overview of the major theories that seek to account for the similar traditions that exist in Q and James. First, the nature of the different types of parallels will be analyzed. Secondly, the major critical suggestions which account for these parallels will be assessed. Thirdly, the paper will discuss the significance of the existence of such parallel sources of tradition for accessing material which may be traced back to the historical Jesus.

The question of the extent to which, if at all, rabbis filled civil leadership roles within Jewish society beyond their scholastic circles, in 2nd-3rd century Palestine, is one which has increasingly been asked in recent years, with mixed, but increasingly negative results. This paper will examine one small aspect of the larger question, that being the functions of the figure of the parnas (administrator, provider) and its relationship to rabbinic leadership, whether real or imagined. I will examine sources that mention the parnas or parnasim (pl.) in both tannaitic rabbinic sources and non-rabbinic, including non-Jewish, inscriptions and legal documents from roughly the same time, to see what light they might shed on one another. The evidence, I shall argue, points to some exercise of rabbinic civil functions at the local level, but also rhetorical efforts to portray such roles rhetorically so as to project a broader rabbinic leadership role.

Two VI-VII CE Coptic hagiographies, the _Panegyric on Macarius of Tkow_ and the _Life of Moses of Abydos_, include scenes of Christian monks' murdering native Egyptian priests. Read in light of Libanius's complaints about monks' destructiveness and Shenoute of Atripe's aggressive anti-heathen sermons, these scenes might be read as authentic evidence of monks' homicidal fanaticism. Yet there are literary reasons to view them instead as invented for narrative effect, most particularly an Elijah typoloogy that influenced many stories of Egyptian holy men. Christian homicide is imagined as just riposte to a heathen order that is, in legendary terms, equated with violence. In the end, it is dubious that monks' violence against native Mediterranean religions extended much beyond iconoclasm.

Several scholars, especially Anderson and Freedman in their commentary on Hosea (1980), have identified references to the Israelite victory song of Judges 5 in Hosea 5:8-10. These references include the war cry “’hr bnymn” (Jdgs 5:14a; Hos 5:8b) and a focus on Israel’s tribal identity (Jdgs 5:14-18; Hos 5:9b). However, a survey of the major works on both Hosea and Judges reveals that no scholar has explored how this inner-biblical discourse extends beyond Hosea 5:8-10 and throughout the entire pericope of Hosea 5:8-6:6, which consists of a call to arms and a warning of the impending destruction of Ephraim and Judah. The majority of modern commentators analyze the pericope after 5:10 in terms of its 8th century historical background, its metaphoric language, and its use of cultic song (6:1-3), without any reference to Judges 5. However, an analysis of the conventions of the passages in question reveals that, not only does Hosea refer to Judges 5 in a few isolated instances, but it borrows from it significant elements of a martial victory song. It uses these elements to create an expectation of a northern victory over Judah (5:8-10), and then to dash these expectations in order to convey the force of YHWH’s judgment against both Judah and Ephraim (5:11-6:6). This generic play is especially evident when one compares the material in Judges and Hosea according to the elements of a martial victory song outlined by Alexander Globe in “Literary Unity and Structure in the Song of Deborah,” JBL (1974): 493-512. Recognizing Hosea’s use of inner-biblical discourse serves to highlight the importance of the martial elements in the passage. It is also vital for apprehending the pericope’s unity, message, and original setting in the northern kingdom during the tumultuous years prior to the destruction of 722 BCE.

It has been extensively discussed in recent research to what degree the Greek and Roman image of Magian tradition and the magi as a religious group is dependant on authentic Zoroastrianism. The point of reference and departure usually is the classic study and text collection by J. Bidez and F. Cumont, Les mages hellénisés (2 vols., 1938). Are the traditions about the Iranian magi mainly Greek and Roman projections, as many scholars believe? Or are they, as Bidez and Cumont thought, at least to some degree, reflexes of the religious ideas of hellenized Zoroastrians? What do we know about Iranian immigrant population in Egypt and Western Asia Minor in Roman times? To what degree can they be seen as Zoroastrians? What can we say about the prosopography of Iranians in Roman provinces? Some attention will also be given to recent theories about Christian influences on Sassanian Zoroastrianism, as Werner Sundermann´s rather daring suggestions about the nomenclature of the Avestan scriptures (in: FS H. Humbach, 2001).

Four major chronological anchors have been proposed in support of Israel Finkelstein’s low chronology of Iron Age Israel. These include the date of Philistine Monochrome pottery, the pottery of ninth century Jezreel (compared to that of Megiddo), and high-precision radiocarbon dating. A fourth potential anchor, proposed by Norma Franklin, involves a comparison of two strata: the debated “Solomonic” Megiddo VA–IVB, and Building Period I in Samaria. Biblical testimony places the founding of Samaria in the 9th century BCE, and all parties agree that the royal compound unearthed there is from the 9th century. Franklin argues that since the two strata at Megiddo and Samaria are alike in their use of the common cubit, their masonry style, and their use of similar masons’ marks, the stratum at Megiddo must also be from the 9th century, making it Omride, not Solomonic. In this paper we will evaluate these three points of comparison in detail, and conclude that all three are too chronologically imprecise to yield a meaningful temporal correlation.

The topic of how Jews living in the Greco-Roman period in Israel and in the Diaspora understood the images of Greco-Roman Gods and Goddesses (and symbols of the Gods and Goddesses) items they encountered in their daily lives (through their use of or contact with coins, glass, oil lamps, pottery, mosaics, bath-houses, in buildings (the outside and inside decoration in buildings) as well as in burial iconography in burial caves and on ossuaries is the subject of much debate. The author will show examples of daily items that Greco-Roman Jews would have come in contact with from various archaeological contexts in Israel and show the images (and representations/symbols) of Greco-Roman Gods and Goddesses on the objects. The author will compare Jewish attitudes towards these images in Greco-Roman period Jewish literature (primarily Apocrypha, Philo and Josephus) and Rabbinic texts to see if there is a consistent view of how these images were viewed.

Geshem and Tal, the prayers for rain and dew in due season, are the best known Jewish liturgies for precipitation that comes at the right time and in the optimal amount for the bounty and prosperity of a good agricultural year in ancient Israel, but this paper will also include discussion of other passages dispersed throughout the annual liturgical cycle which deal with the flow of G-d's benevolent shefa to our potentially sacred earth, and with human stewardship, and kavvanah in prayer, which can help to strengthen men and women in partnership with the divine creator.

The biblical lists of the cities allegedly built (or fortified) by Solomon are sharply divergent: in particular, Hazor, Gezer, and Megiddo are present in 1 Kgs 9:15-16, but not in 2 Chronicles 8. While making it difficult to argue that either of the lists represents a faithful report of the king’s actual projects, this divergence may be helpful in determining the sociohistorical matrices and agendas of the two fragments. While Chronicles paints a vague, fanciful picture of Solomon as the ruler of the entire territory west of the Euphrates, Kings much more specifically and realistically places him in control of what in the Amarna age were the main Cisjordanian city-states. This suggests a (relatively) early date for the latter text and identifies it as a product of royal Jerusalemite propaganda.

The Hebrew Bible refers to the activities of women prophets in crucial junctures in the national narrative. Miriam appears in the story of the birth of the nation, Deborah appears in the story of tribal consolidation and Huldah appears in the story of monarchic demise. While the label “nebi’ah” clearly refers to prophetic activity, the performance and discursive expression of this activity are ambiguous and circumscribed (Fuchs, 2001). In the former prophets women mostly appear in the role of followers of and dependents on male prophets. In the latter prophets the woman prophet as a model of discursive authority is transformed into a sexual figure of speech. This figure of speech has been the object of much feminist discussion and for the most part identified as a pornographic trope (Weems, 1995, Brenner, 1997; 2001). In a previous essay I argued that the replacement and displacement of the woman prophet as an agent of speech and mediator of divine purpose into a figure of prophetic speech be understood in terms of an “andro-theistic” dynamic crucial to the construction of monotheism as privileged discourse. In this essay I will draw on Luce Irigaray (1985) and her suggestive theory of phallocratic discourse, as well as on the postcolonial theories of Homi (1990, 1994). My intention is to reframe the analysis of women prophets and women in prophets within the political context of the biblical construction and deconstruction of the nation. While the narrative construction of the nation represents female prophets as both legitimate and privileged conduits of divine communication, the poetic deconstruction of the nation bifurcates female imagery into the “prostitute” or “adulteress” trope on the one hand, and virgin/widow “daughter Zion” on the other. The prophetic deconstruction uses the feminine as a discursive trope for a national “body” that is displaced by an idea of future redemption that will enable the perfection and completion of the nation as it was originally meant to be.

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Textual and literary studies of the differences among the witnesses (MT, LXX, DSS)to various biblical books, such as Exodus, Numbers, Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel, have demonstrated that the chasm between lower criticism (principally textual criticism) and higher criticism (source criticism, historical redaction criticism, form criticism) is an artificial one. Close scrutiny of the textual variants found in the manuscripts from Qumran, the Septuagint, and the MT provides insight not only into the growth of biblical texts and their interpretation in antiquity, but also into their composition and formation. This paper applies such an approach to 1 Esdras and its relationships to Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah. While 1 Esdras has significant overlap with material in each of these works, 1 Esdras also possesses its own unique material. Our paper will explore specific text-critical issues in parallel passages, such as 1 Esd 2:23-26//Ezra 4:21-24, 1 Esd 6//Ezra 5, 1 Esd 8:43-44//Ezra 8:16, and 1 Esd 9:2//Neh 8:2. In some cases, 1 Esdras seems to reflect the oldest text, while in other cases the MT seems to reflect the oldest text. These comparisons suggest multiple stages of growth in the composition of Ezra, Nehemiah, and 1 Esdras.

We encounter in rabbinic literature a group of texts that portray a dialogue between a Sage and an “Outsider”; someone who is defined by his not being a Sage (the characters have various designations such as min, goy, philosopher, m/Matrona, Hadrian). The texts are highly polemical texts (in their form, topic, function, as well as rhetoric), in which the characters of the “Outsiders” are used to provide ideal forms and ideal types of difference, helping to create the image of the “rabbinic” Sage by contrasting him to what he is not. I regard these dialogues as texts that portray a transfer in the discourse of rabbinic literature; a transfer from a world of different Hellenistic Judaisms to the world of “rabbinic” Judaism that considers and portrays itself as the sole, “normative” form of Judaism. How do the texts accomplish this task? In this paper I would like focus on the use of rhetoric in the texts. First of all, I shall determine to what extent the texts are confrontational, whether they can be considered as discussions or as debates (a very important aspect of the rhetoric of these texts). Second, I shall discuss other main concerns of rhetoric, such as the role of the speaker(s), of the interlocutor(s), and of the intended audience. I am convinced that only after careful consideration of the role the speaker(s), the interlocutor(s), and the intended audience „play” in the texts is it possible to get to the Sitz im Leben of the texts, that is, to answer the question why the texts were written in the first place and then transmitted in rabbinic literature. And last, I shall show, on the basis of textual examples, how rhetorical tools and methods were used in the dialogues in order to strenghten the message of the texts: what makes someone a „rabbinic” Sage and what differentiates „rabbinic” Judaism from other Judaisms of late antiquity in the discourse of rabbinic literature.

This paper will discuss the literary evidence pertaining to female prophets in the scriptures of Israel. The canons under consideration include the Samaritan Pentateuch, the Masoretic Text, the Septuagint, biblical texts at Qumran and the Targumim. Specifically, this paper will focus on women prophets who are submerged in masculine and common plural expressions in Biblical Hebrew and excavate the reliance of male prophets on the female prophetic tradition. This paper will address the number of women prophets present in the text and read between the lines of text to find others. The variety of ways in which women prophesy, and their contexts will be explored: warfare, medicinal, musical, oratorical and more.

The programs we have sponsored on early Christianity and the imperial cult are but the beginning of a continuing dialogue. That dialogue will benefit from informed contributions by both ancient historians and NT scholars. I will focus on some essential issues that can be usefully explored further: (1) Clarity about methodology. What basic interpretations of the imperial cult have been proposed by classicists and in what kind of contemporary and ancient contexts? Do NT scholars pursue a Tendenz rather than try to establish some more historical facts about the cult? (2) The variety of responses by Christians and others to the phenomenon and its local circumstances. Here there is considerable convergence: both classical and NT scholars have emphasized the significance of local variations rather than deal with the cult as a monolithic phenomenon. (3) The adaptive transformation of the imperial cult in the later Christian empire. Was this a victorious appropriation or a rejection of the shadowy anti-imperial message that has been culled from Paul, John, and Matthew? (4) The relative role of the imperial cult, and Christian and other responses to it, within the broader spectrum of Roman imperial institutions and practices and Christian and other responses to them. After all, the cult was not the only game in town nor in the empire at large.

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As evidenced by the varied scholarly proposals, the historical background of the book of Joel is a complex, disputed matter. This paper suggests that Joel’s prophecies reflect the historical reality in the land of Israel immediately following Cyrus’ Declaration (538 BCE); namely, the early days of the restoration period preceding the building of the Temple, and perhaps even of the altar. From this perspective Joel fills the lacuna in prophetic literature between Ezekiel, whose latest prophecies date to c. 570 BCE, and Haggai and Zechariah, whose earliest prophecies date to the second year of Darius’ reign, 520 BCE. Systematic examination of the language and content of Joel’s prophecies reveals strong linguistic-topical affinities to the book of Ezekiel, on the one hand, and to Haggai on the other. Indeed, in their intense hope for the realization of Ezekiel’s restoration prophecies and for the renewal of the Temple service, Joel’s prophecies can be regarded as a continuation of Ezekiel’s unique post-destruction prophecies. This suggests that Joel’s prophecies represent the narrow timeframe during which there was still hope that the Second Temple would incorporate elements from Ezekiel’s restoration prophecies, a hope that had dissipated by Haggai’s day. Joel’s prophecies also describe the trying, disheartening historical conditions in the land of Israel: drought, lack of economic opportunity, and mainly the returning exiles’ frustration that the hand of God was not visible in miracles, or in abundance based on plentiful rainfall, or in agricultural bounty. The grave disillusionment with which the returnees had to contend--reflected in shared language and motifs in Joel and Haggai--brought the priests to tears, evoking a divine answer that included prophecies of a utopian redemption. The discussion of this suggested historical-prophetical background also relates to the existing proposals and their rationales.

Returning to the City of Katrina,and remembering the untold human suffering on its shore, one asks, how do loyalists to Sinai and Calvary reconcile Heaven's wrath on earthly shores? Is the Intelligent One an Evil Designer with tens of thousands of victims and survivors as evidence? Scripturally,how may one understand Gen 6 in light of Gen 1-2 in context and against the ravages of nature and nature's G-d? In sum, where is G-d in our shared tragedies?

This paper explores how early rabbinic texts use gifts and gift giving to portray the rabbinic movement atop the social hierarchy of Roman Galilee. Gifts and gift giving are addressed in early rabbinic literature’s extended discourse on charity, benefaction, and poor relief in Tosefta Peah – the third-fourth century legal work redacted in northern Palestine. A close reading of this text (esp. ch. 4) suggests that the rabbinic redactors are less concerned with addressing the needs of the permanent, structural poor (as they are in Mishnah Peah) and more interested in the temporary, conjunctural poor. In particular, Tosefta Peah imagines the impoverished as well-born, non-rabbinic Jewish aristocrats who unexpectedly plunged into poverty. The rabbis then intercede, as Hillel the Elder and others give the fallen Galilean notables horses and other items that they had once possessed. Gift giving creates a relationship of dependency between the benefactor and beneficiary, an imbalanced social dynamic that holds until the initial gift is repaid with a larger counter gift. Failure to repay carries a loss of prestige; this humiliation reinforces the shame that the conjunctural poor had already incurred from their economic decline. As such, Tosefta Peah’s redactors leverage gift giving in order to elevate the rabbinic movement’s social standing above that of their non-rabbinic competitors in Roman Galilee. That is, while these texts constitute the bedrock of subsequent Jewish approaches to alleviate poverty, I show that they were originally formulated to satisfy the late-antique rabbinic movement’s own cravings for social status.

This study proposes that Hebrews in its primary socio-historical context was an interpretation of Paul's epistle to the Romans, designed to clarify aspects of that epistle for a readership devoted to its content. As others already have suggested, internal and external evidence bespeak a relationship between the two texts. According to this study, the grist for Hebrews‚ mill is Paul's claim, in Rom 3:21ff., that Christ's death as a hilasterion not only offers atonement apart from the Law for those who believe, but also enables such believers, most of whom are gentiles, to become the genuine descendants of Abraham and consequently to inherit the promises stored up for those of such status. The latter is a theme to which Paul will famously return in Romans 9-11. The link between faith in Christ's sacrifice and reconfigured Abrahamic descent and inheritance is hardly transparent, however. Hebrews, I will argue, clarifies and enhances this link through its identification of Christ as a self-sacrificing High Priest after the order of Melchizedek. On the one hand, this identification underscores the novelty of Christ's sacrifice and its ability to mediate a new covenant and a new (and superior) mode of atonement; on the other hand, it provides the prototype for the reconfiguration of descent experienced by believers, for just as Christ reckons his priestly status through an alternative to the old covenant and the fleshly descent of the Levites, so the people he serves in the new covenant reckons its descent from Abraham, and its pursuant claim to the promises, in non-fleshly terms. Hebrews, then, advances Paul's assertion that the genuine „descendants of Abraham" (Heb 2:16) and the „heirs of the promise" (Heb 6.17) are those who have hope in Christ's unique and unprecedented sacrifice, not those whose descent is reckoned through flesh and the Law.

For ages the search for Judean Achzib has been a conundrum. Different sites have been proposed. Neither has unequivocal evidence. A new literary and archaeological investigation has found some indications for the right location within this difficult issue. The literary investigation yielded the following: In the first place, the Judean Achzib is located near Keilah and Mareshah. Secondly it might have been a royal workshop for the production of lmlk-jars. Thirdly the Judean Achzib lies near Adullam as Achzib is most probably identical with Chezib. In case Achzib is Chozeba one could search for Achzib in the environs of Netaim and Gederah. Five previously proposed locations have been revisited. In the vicinity of ?En el-Kizbe there is a site previously unmentioned which fulfills topographically the location of the biblical place Achzib. The main site, although badly preserved, is Khirbet ?En el-Kizbe, which extended over c. 18–20 dunams. The sites located in the vicinity were apparently adjacent agricultural estates. The remains on the hilltop cover a large area; they represent a Roman and Byzantine suburb of Khirbet Bet Nettif. The location of Khirbet ?En el-Kizbe near the ancient road and the water source, the preservation of the ancient name at the water source, and the discovery of pottery from Iron Age II and the Persian period (including two Royal lmlk-jar handles), strongly support identifying this site with ancient Achzib/Chezib/Chozeba.

Karl Barth’s famous charge that biblical scholarship neglects the “subject matter” of the text takes on renewed urgency in current discussions about the theological interpretation of Scripture. In conversation with the commentaries of Barth and Jewett, this paper explores the question of what it means to read “for the subject.” Romans 14 will serve as a test-case: What is “the subject” and how should it be discussed?

A look into Mark’s practice of naming perplexes: How come a passer-by, a narrative side actor by the name Simon of Cyrene is acknowledged a proper name by the author (Mark 15,21), and even his children—that play no part at all in the narrative—are, yet the central figures of high priest(s), scribes, elders, and Pharisees are not one single time granted one? Naming, as is generally known, is an important tool but also instrument of power to construct identity and identities, individual as well as collective ones. Power is exhibited in such a manner that the giver ascribes and inscribes social value via a name or the absence of it to individuals and groups. In that the author of Mark does not differ, as the example above—and only one amongst others—illustrates, this paper therefore seeks on the basis of apt identity theories to trace the author’s literal identity strategies as far as it applies to his practice of naming. The onomastic revenues are thereafter incorporated into a more general theory of literary identity construction(s).

Benjamin Harshav’s approach to metaphor in his essay “Metaphor and Frames of Reference” offers possibilities of fruitful new approaches to classic exegetical problems in the Book of Psalms. For example, the discontinuity in Ps 23 between the metaphor of the shepherd and sheep in the first part of the psalm and the image of banqueting in the second part may be an example of Harshav’s “clash quality” of discontinuous metaphors, which forces a metaphoric transfer of meaning from one to the other. This approach would shed light on several key images of the psalm. On a larger scale, the same phenomenon may occur also in the juxtaposition of Ps 1, a “Torah” psalm, and Ps 2, a “royal” psalm. This might open up the possibility that the Book of Psalms may employ genre itself as a kind of metaphor in Harshav’s sense of a “frame of reference.” Transfer and extension of meaning between different metaphors might help to explain several features of the biblical Psalms that have concerned scholarship, such as the role played by “enemies.” It may also give us a new way of approaching the problem of genre in the book as a whole.

This paper examines atonement motifs in Lev 16. The Day of Atonement consists of a two-part ritual: the slaughtering of a purification offering (hatta‘t) and the release of a scapegoat. I have not attempted to chart new territory with regard to hatta‘t, and I largely agree with Milgrom who argues that substitution is not a proper categorical description for the hatta‘t. The hatta‘t purifies the tabernacle rather than substitutes for the sin of the people. The second part of the ritual, the release of the scapegoat, has also been understood through the lens of the substitution motif. The goat is thought to be sent out into the wilderness to its death in place of the people of Israel, thus avoiding the wrath of God (i.e. punishment by death). I argue that this is a misunderstanding of both the ritual of the scapegoat and the nature of God’s character. I do, however, see a different kind of substitution present in the ritual. The traditional substitutionary model has argued that the wages of sin is death (often through a Pauline/NT lens), but upon a closer reading of Leviticus (and much of the Pentateuch), the wages of sin is banishment. The scapegoat, therefore, is a physical representation of what might happen if sin/impurity continues to exist. The scapegoat is separated from the community in the same way that a person would be separated from the community if he or she is impure. In this way, the scapegoat acts as a substitute for the sinful people, once a year reminding them of the wages of sin and the grace of YHWH through his provision of a scapegoat. The punishment is not purely punitive, it is a necessary corollary to the belief that the holy and unholy cannot coexist.

Scholars have long recognized that in Ezekiel 16 the prophet draws upon the harlot imagery of Hosea and Jeremiah to indict Jerusalem for its idolatry and foreign relations. However, no one has yet noticed the pervasive thematic and structural links between the chapter and the Song of Moses (Deut 32:1-43). The similar plot is striking: Yahweh discovers destitute Israel in a barren location; he delivers her and renders lavish care upon her so that she prospers; Israel in her prosperity forsakes Yahweh; she pursues other gods and forgets her origins, which provokes Yahweh to anger; Israel is punished for her idolatry; and finally, Yahweh is vindicated and/or Israel is restored. Numerous synonyms and a few instances of verbal parallels are found between the two passages. In this paper I propose that Ezekiel’s depiction of Israel in chapter 16 (chiefly vv. 1-43) is a prophetic transformation of the rise and decline of Israel depicted in the Song, whereby he adopts the structure and themes of Deuteronomy 32 and infuses it with the prophetic harlotry motif. In order to show that Ezekiel could have known and used the Song, I will summarize arguments for the new consensus that Deuteronomy 32 is an early pre-exilic composition, including recent studies that show that the prophets drew from the Song, not vice versa. Furthermore, Matthew Thiessen’s thesis that Deuteronomy 32 was a pre-exilic liturgical text and thus likely well known further bolsters the claim that Ezekiel would have known the Song and chosen it for rhetorical purposes because his audience likewise knew the text. Then, I will demonstrate that Ezekiel does in fact use the Song in other passages. Throughout the paper I address methodological criteria for establishing literary dependence and its direction. In the present case, the abundance of thematic and verbal links across these two pericopes and the nearly identical plot structure make it extremely unlikely that these parallels occur by chance.

While agreeing with Gedaliahu Stroumsa’s position according to which internalization represented an important turn in religious experience of antiquity, the present paper does not conceives of this turn as the passage from esoterism to mysticism. As such scholars as Segal, Gruenwald, Fossum speak about Paul’s “mystical experience” or about the “mystical religion” of the first century, Elior and Alexander talk about “Qumran mysticism”. In addition, Rudolph Otto used to assert both inward and outward mysticisms. However, various passages in Philo, John, Melito, Ps-Hippolytus, Clement, and Origen testify for a noetic turn in Jewish-Christian mysticism. The noetic turn, which preceded the process of internalization, transferred the entire biblical/apocalyptic ontology—throne, glory, angels, etc.—from heaven to the noetic, invisible world. With no doubt a shift under Hellenistic influence, its method of accessing this world was no longer ascension, but initiation. Internalization, in its turn, should be re-conceived of as a shift within the trend of mysticism, namely one focused on the internal contemplation of God, though the ontology remains within the invisible, noetic universe.

Matthew’s Gospel has for years been a whipping boy of scholars determined to distance themselves from Christian supersessionism. In Matthew we find the striking coincidence of what many have termed the most conservatively “Jewish” portrayal of Jesus (e.g., Mt. 5:17-20), some of the most scathing denunciations of authorities in Israel (e.g., Mt. 23:1-39), and a persistently happy portrayal of Gentiles (e.g., Mt. 8:11-12). Some interpreters have understandably chalked up the coincidence of these seemingly divergent strands, and the related disparity between an Israel-bounded Christian mission and a worldwide Christian mission, to disparate traditions in the layers of Matthew’s Gospel. This has freed interpreters to identify Christian supersessionism in Matthew without attempting to reconcile it with the other, apparently contradictory emphases of the Gospel. The paper proposed is based on a longer version submitted to Dr. Richard Hays of Duke University for a doctoral seminar on Matthew in the fall of 2007 and argues that the scope of Jesus’ mission extends from “only the lost sheep of the house of Israel” to “all the nations” not because Israel has been relativized but because Israel’s sins have been forgiven. The forgiveness of Israel’s sins inaugurates the awaited end of covenant curses and the commencement of eschatological covenant blessings which embrace all the nations under the rule of the Son of David. In support of this thesis, the paper briefly considers Mt. 10:5-6 and Mt. 15:21-28 in Matthew’s unfolding narrative. It then analyzes the theme of the judgment of Israel in relation to Gentiles in Matthew and defends the claim that the people of Israel is not set aside, relativized, or replaced in the course of the Gospel. As in the narrative progression of Isaiah 1-12 that is so important for Matthew, Israel, especially her shepherds, is indeed condemned for its unfaithfulness to the covenant, and much of Israel is burned away in judgment by death at the hands of Gentiles (i.e., Rome). But God has raised the Son of David to lead Israel in faithfulness through these fires of judgment into eschatological blessing. The salvation of Israel is thus not the evasion of judgment but passing through it to the other side, as Israel’s wounds and sins are thereby healed and forgiven and Gentiles drawn to its light. The kingdom of God is thus denied to the Israelite vinegrowers (i.e., rulers) and given to the people of Israel humbled through judgment, as its eschatological light (i.e., “the fruits of the kingdom of God”) begins to embrace those living far from the Promised Land, under the rule of the resurrected Son of David. Finally, the paper considers Mt. 28:16-20 and contends that the shift from a messianic mission directed exclusively to the lost sheep of the land of Israel in Mt. 10:5-6 and Mt. 15:24 to one directed to “all the nations” in Mt. 28:16-20 is not primarily an ethnic one. The shift is primarily a geographic one from the traditional land of Israel to the whole of the Son of David’s realm, such that both Gentiles and Israelites in the Diaspora are invited as disciples of Jesus to share in Israel’s redemption through suffering and eschatological blessing. Thus, Israel’s covenant blessings reach Gentiles only in and through the people of Israel. It is Israel’s covenantal drama of curse and blessing––cross and resurrection––that finally draws Gentiles into Israel’s own eschatological life under the rule of Jesus.

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Several factors are important to consider when endeavoring to understand the struggles a Septuagint translator would have had with visually ambiguous phenomena in his Vorlage. One important question concerns to what degree the translator was aware of a tradition of vocalization of the Vorlage. Other important questions involve whether there were vowels, final letters, or divisions between the words in the Vorlage. After a brief survey of those questions, this paper will focus on the translation of three ambiguous phenomena in LXX-Amos: homonyms, homographs, and word division. The results of this study help us understand the methodology of this translator and are a basis for comparing his work with that found in other sections of the LXX-Twelve.

In 2 Cor 12.7-10, Paul develops links between illness, chronic pain, healing, ecstasy, strength/weakness, and considers the role of non-human forces in human illness, explanations of/for illness, and the (non-) efficacy of ritual/prayer for healing. These verses raise a complex of questions for the modern interpreter. Who is called upon to heal? If “the Lord” is singled out as the healer, why does Paul elsewhere impute a healing role/gift to others (1 Cor 12.9, 28, 30)? Why does Paul presuppose connections between illness, chronic pain, and pride? What does this passage reveal about Paul’s view of the etiology of sickness? How is etiology/remedy of sickness related to the role of religious (ecstatic) experience in Paul’s thought? These and associated questions regarding healing/illness in the ‘symbolic world’ of Paul and the community he addressed are interrelated, and the task of the interpreter is to uncover their connections. To this end, my treatment here adopts the perspective developed in ethnomedical anthropology: the analysis of a particular society’s understanding/treatment of illness via a culturally determined health-care system. Recent studies have applied this approach to portions of the New Testament (Avalos; Pilch; Albl). My purpose here is to extend this approach to Paul’s writings, and specifically to his Corinthian correspondence. I focus my attention on the series of statements in 2 Cor 12.7-10, while making reference throughout to its immediate context (2 Cor 10-13), as well as to its relationship to the structure of ideas in the larger Pauline corpus (e.g. Gal 4.13-15; 1 Cor 11.27-34; 12.8-10, 28, 29-30). I begin with an overview of the conceptual tools central to ethnomedical anthropology. I then explore some basic elements of the ethnomedical system as evidenced in Paul’s Corinthian correspondence and reflect on the interrelationships of these elements within the system.

On three separate occasions, the Jewish sage Ben Sira (ca. 185 BCE) describes his teaching activity as a confluence of light and word. From a cognitive experientialist perspective, this paper interprets Ben Sira's synesthetic description of his wisdom instruction in light of local cultural assumptions regarding the operation of the perceptual organs. The different modalities assumed to be operative in vision and audition, respectively, are also implied in the sage's metaphorical uses of seeing and hearing. Throughout his work, Ben Sira deploys visual metaphors to indicate first-hand experience, apprehension of meaningful patterns in nature, continuity between the wisdom teacher (the seer) and the sacred realm, and the presentation of divine truths. The sage employs aural metaphors to suggest that the verbal medium of wisdom instruction stands at some remove from the original sagely insight based on visual perception, that wisdom instruction cannot immediately present meaningful patterns but only represent them, and that the student (the hearer) who experiences the sequential unfolding of the wisdom instruction in time stands in discontinuity with the sacred realm. When the sage combines visual and aural metaphors to describe his own teaching activity, the resulting symbolic synesthesia not only points to the pivotal role of the sage in merging the visual and the verbal in the process of wisdom transmission, but it also expresses the sage's experience of the teaching event as extraordinary. By depicting his instruction as a convergence of word and light, the sage describes a "perceptual paradox" (to use David Chidester's phrase), in which his experience of instruction is grounded in sensory perception and yet transcends normal sensory perception. Through this symbolic synesthesia, the sage positions himself as an intermediary who is both continuous and discontinuous with the sacred realm and, thus, able to communicate divine wisdom to his students.

In the opening of her book on gender and Judaism, Helena Zlotnick writes “In ways that cannot always be traced with great precision, women, and particularly gentile females have come to symbolize the forbidden.” (Zlotnick 2002:1) By closely examining the relationship between gender and impurity in Ezra-Nehemiah, this paper, in part, provides the missing precision Zlotnick identifies. Jonathan Klawans’s work, Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism (2000) contrasts what he calls “ritual impurity,” a form of impurity familiar in pre-exilic biblical literature, with “moral impurity,” a separate type of impurity, most familiar in late pre-exilic, exilic and post-exilic literature. In previous papers, I have argued that the Hebrew Bible’s shift in emphasis regarding purity language and concepts corresponds directly to an increasingly negative portrayal of women in biblical literature. In this paper, I show that the biblical notion of purity undergoes a significant change in Ezra-Nehemiah. Though they disagree with each other on several points, Jonathan Klawans and Christine Hayes (2002:24-34) both demonstrate this claim. Next, I argue that gender is inextricably linked to the reformulation of the purity system in Ezra-Nehemiah, in contrast to arguments by Olyan and Hayes. Olyan (2000:82) and Hayes argue that genealogical impurity does not unfairly target women since both the children of Judean men and foreign women as well as the children of Judean women and foreign men are genealogically impure. These arguments, however, overlook two important factors, one social and one literary. First, no ancient social structure would permit Israelite women to divorce foreign husbands. Second, foreigners are described as causing the land to be filled with “niddah,” thus feminizing and ostracizing the outsider.

This study deals with two Late Babylonian copies of letters concerning Ashurbanipal’s tablet gathering. The publishers of those tablets regarded them as copies of genuine letters. In the present study it is submitted that the LB scribes’ concern with the library of Ashurbanipal was influenced by acquaintance in Hellenistic times with the celebrated Library of Alexandria, widely known since the mid-third century BC. It is claimed that the letters reflect a local response to the contemporary events: they served as proof that long before the Greek Kings began gathering world knowledge in their libraries, a very similar project existed within the cuneiform world. This suggestion provides a fitting explanation for the appearance of the letters in Hellenistic times. In the LB letters Ashurbanipal’s project was magnified, and the Babylonian role in it was emphasized. The differences between the seventh-century records and the project as depicted in the LB letters can be explained as result of Hellenistic influence on the present versions of the letters. One of the most important sources for the traditions about the library of Alexandria is Pseudo-Aristeas, allegedly written by a Jewish scholar employed at the Library. This work has a variety of similarities with the LB letters regarding Ashurbanipal. The resemblance between the Babylonian and Alexandrian tradition can easily be explained as an outcome of a shared cultural environment. In Ps-Aristeas and in the LB letters we find two different reactions, from two different communities within the Hellenistic world, to imperial bibliophilic projects. For many years, scholars have compared the Libraries of Alexandria and of Ashurbanipal, asking whether the Assyrian library should be recognized as a precedent to the Hellenistic. It now seems that this was recognized already in the Hellenistic period by Babylonian scribes their important place in the history of knowledge

Paul’s comparison of his apostolic role to that of a “steward (oikonomos) of the mysteries of God” (1 Cor 4.1-2) has long been interpreted as a metaphor whose source domain is found somewhere in the administrative landscape of the first-century world. While the oikonomos metaphor has significant implications for Paul’s portrayal of Christian apostleship, the precise social context and power connotations of the analogy remain disputed by NT scholars. Some, for instance, have proposed that Paul adopted the title from the administration of religious cults or voluntary associations (where oikonomoi possessed very little authority), while others suggest that it was taken from the household and agriculture (where oikonomoi carried considerable authority). Still, many scholars are reluctant to identify a specific area of derivation, since oikonomoi were ubiquitous in Paul’s world. However, Paul’s use of servile and economic terminology in 1 Corinthians 3-4 and 9 (i.e., doulos, ananke, akon, pistos, misthos, zemioo, adapanos) suggests that Paul had a particular source domain in mind, namely Corinth’s thriving commercial sphere, with which, as a tentmaker, he was very familiar. By drawing on a number of Greco-Roman literary and non-literary sources, this paper will contend that in 1 Cor 4.1-2 and 9.17 Paul envisioned himself as a slave institor (“business agent”) of the gospel, who was compelled to preach the gospel without pay, since his reward awaited his Master’s return (cf. 1 Cor 3.8; 4.5). Moreover, the metaphor suggests that Paul conceived of his apostleship as shameful to the elite, yet authorized by God. This is in keeping with his self-portrayal as one simultaneously dishonoured (1 Cor 4.9-13) and empowered (1 Cor 4.14-21) in the Corinthian church.

In Against Apion Josephus fulfills his AJ XX 268 (and other places) commitment to write a treatise "on the opinions that we Jews hold concerning God, as well as concerning the laws" - laws which were given by "our lawgiver Moses" (CA II 145); yet the version of the composition as it has reached us shows changes from Josephus' original plans. In Against Apion Josephus does tell us a lot about Moses the Lawgiver and his Torah, and about the importance of observing the innovative, unique and clever laws given by him to the People of Israel. What does Josephus' intensive apology as to the slanders against Moses and his laws tell us? Who actually is Josephus' audience for his detailed descriptions of ancient, remote Alexandrian and others Exodos and Temple stories and storytellers, against whom he argues so acutely, fiercely and sarcastically? What can their relevance to 1st century Rome be? Why does Josephus keep emphasizing so emphatically the fact that he himself is a Priest, and why is the priestly class and the Jerusalem Temple ritual stories so central in this treatise, now that the Temple, with the priestly class which once used to run it according to the Mosaic Law and to be the leaders and the representatives of the People of Israel before the Roman rule, do not exist anymore? (Nonetheless, the tradition of Moses being born to the tribe of Levi is not emphasized by Josephus.) And then: how are all these issues connected? I will show the problems in the way Josephus presents in Contra Apionem the famous Greek Rhetor Apollonius Molon who lived in the 1st century B.C. as being one of the most harsh "Anti-Semites", a slanderer of Moses and his Laws, and the source for libels against the Temple, its rituals and its priests (including "The First Blood Libel in History"); and how the questions above-mentioned are answered through the analysis of Josephus' description of Molon's hostility, and through a comparison with The Life - Vita Josephi 'davka': I am suggesting a comparison between these two very different, yet very similar! – short, late works, a comparison which usually is very little done.

The rich poetic or hymnic text found in Phil 2:6-11 has been the subject of many diverse investigations and interpretations. This paper, taking a cue from John Reumann's recent Yale Anchor Bible commentary on Philippians, argues that the hymn/poem, which is Paul's master story, summarizes the gospel that Paul wants the Philippian assembly to (continue to) proclaim and (continue to) embody, in spite of opposition. In so doing, the Philippians will both hold forth and defend the basic Pauline claims about the crucified Jesus as the self-giving, life-giving Son of God and sovereign Lord, in fulfillment of Scripture and in contrast to Caesar. These claims have been vindicated by God in exalting Jesus, and they will soon be acknowledged by all creation. Paul's words speak to the contemporary church about the coherent form and content of its missional life and message.

Prophetic and related figures are often male, as is the case with most such figures in the Hebrew Bible. And yet, just as there are a few female prophets in the Bible, there are female prophetic-type individuals known in many different cultures. Making use of a variety of examples taken from anthropological study, this paper will explore the place and characteristics of female prophets and prophecy from a cross-cultural perspective.

Both pagan and especially Christian sources claimed that the Pythia in Delphi received her divinatory inspiration through a material pneuma, a gaseous exhalation from a chasm in the ground. Archaeological research of the past 100 years firmly helped to reject such a materialist approach. Recent geological finds, however, have brought this explanation of Delphic divination to the foreground again, and the media eagerly have taken it up. My paper assesses this new development and tries to find its way through the conflicting claims of spiritual and material causes for the Pythia's state of mind.

The works of Roman Garrison, Richard Finn, and Susan R. Holman have introduced us to the late antique Christian doctrine of "redemptive almsgiving"--the idea that giving charity redeems from sin. Apropos of his identification of the Second Temple-era Jewish sources of the patristic doctrine, Garrison noted the presence as well of redemptive almsgiving in rabbinic literature, suggesting that "Talmudic Judaism" understood almsgiving as "redemptive." Earlier, Ephraim E. Urbach had described a Christian understanding of charity we may recognize as redemptive almsgiving in his seminal 1951 study of charity in rabbinic literature. Urbach contrasted that Christian understanding with his own construction of rabbinic almsgiving as having been more focused on the alleviation of poverty than on providing religious benefits (such as “redemption”) to donors. Urbach did point in his essay to rabbinic sources that appear to teach what we now call redemptive almsgiving, but did not provide a comprehensive analysis of this concept in rabbinic literature. In this paper, I suggest that both Garrison’s and Urbach’s views of redemptive almsgiving in rabbinic literature require correction, and I provide the comprehensive and systematic analysis that has heretofore been lacking. “Talmudic Judaism” must be differentiated both chronologically and geographically; when that is done, we discover views on redemptive almsgiving that differ in the Tannaitic and Amoraic periods, and in Palestine and Babylonia. A systematic analysis of redemptive almsgiving such as the one undertaken in this paper also shows Urbach’s contrast of Christian and rabbinic understandings of charity to be apologetic. Tannaitic sources tend to “disappear” the poor (Susan R. Holman’s phrase) in a manner similar to some Christian sources. This paper’s contribution of a systematic and comprehensive analysis of rabbinic redemptive almsgiving also advances our knowledge of rabbinic charity and of rabbis’ attitudes toward the wealthy and poor among whom they lived.

When we cease, if temporarily, to privilege the historical communication from and within a prophetic book and seek character cues that are more literary and reader-centered, we find fresh sets of possibilities for interpretation and insight. This paper will, with dialogical methodology, examine the portraits of Jeremiah and Zedekiah for their overlap and raise as well the question of why such a hermeneutic of interlocking/analogizing portraiture is useful for ourselves as readers.

Interest in “Scriptural Citations” by the writers of the New Testament is a perennial issue that shows no signs of abating. If anything, closer contacts between scholars of the Septuagint and those of the New Testament, among others, have cast new light on this intriguing phenomenon. In this paper, I will explore this issue primarily through the “extra-textual” phenomenon of citation from memory, using modern examples, which can be clearly documented, as a starting point for further examination of the ancient world.

To date, two cult pedestals dating to the Middle Assyrian period have been excavated. The more familiar of the two is the so-called Nusku Pedestal of Tukulti-Ninurta I. The second pedestal is actually anonymous, but it is generally assumed that the royal figure on the pedestal is Tukulti-Ninurta, and there is good reason to believe so. However, due to numerous differences between the pedestals, it is worth reconsidering whether the king of the anonymous pedestal is identical to the king of the Nusku pedestal. This paper attempts to demonstrate that the iconography of the anonymous cult pedestal fits better into the historical context of the annals of Tiglath-pileser I, rather than those of Tukulti-Ninurta I.

Scholarship on Ben Sira has rightly asserted that “poverty” is a concrete concept in the book and does not have a “spiritualized” sense as in later writings, such as the “Sermon on the Mount.” However, a close reading of Sir 35:14-26 reveals that socio-economic poverty can function somewhat symbolically in Ben Sira’s thought. This passage begins by employing the Pentateuchal and Prophetic social ethic against oppressing the poor, the widow, and the orphan. But by the end of the passage Ben Sira is speaking of the vindication of Israel before the insolent nations. This nationalistic perspective is then the subject of Ben Sira’s prayer for the vindication of corporate Israel in chapter 36 (which should be accepted as authentic). Interestingly, it is difficult to isolate in 35:14-26 precisely when the transition from the subject of the individual oppressed to that of the nation of Israel occurs, and for good reason: the conceptualization of identity vis-à-vis the individual and the community was more fluid in ancient Israel than in the modern West. As such, God’s vindication of the poor and oppressed individuals within Israel can segue quite seamlessly into the subject of God’s vindication of oppressed Israel among the nations, specifically her Hellenistic overlords.

While students are rightfully warned against using internet sites as reliable scholarly sources, the internet is fast becoming the default option for people in general who wish to locate information quickly and efficiently. But, because of its unregulated nature, the internet is full of polemical discourses, not least in the area of religion. Rather than ignoring these discourses because of their acutely biased perspectives and sectarian purposes, this paper argues that it is necessary to analyze these discourses, to categorize and characterize them, and to begin to formulate the rules and structures that produce them. It is especially important to attend to the explicit and implicit practices of exclusion around which these discourses are organized. To this end, this paper begins the process of describing, categorizing and characterizing online polemical sources dealing with the Qu’ran and the Bible in relation to each other, paying attention to recurring themes and sources. In particular, this paper focuses on scriptural passages from both the Bible and the Qur’an that appear repeatedly in this polemical discourse, the hermeneutical presuppositions behind their use, and the possible effects of the use of these passages in online polemic on teaching and scholarship on the Bible and the Qur’an in the academy. Since a single paper cannot provide a comprehensive overview of the online scriptures wars between the Bible and the Qur’an, this paper will deal predominantly with the polemical discourses on the popular websites answering-islam.org and answering-christianity.com.

The variant reading that in some “D-type” witnesses presents the insertion of the words “male and female” at Col 3:11 is normally held as secondarily generated by the influence of Gal. 3:28. This paper proposes an assessment of that judgement through a reconsideration of the variant reading in the light of the anti-women scribal tendency detectable both in the “D-type” text and in the rest of the manuscript tradition of the Pauline Epistles. In this way it shows that some noteworthy reasons can be found supporting the case that this reading was part of the earlier text of the epistle.

The Acts of Thomas relates two stories of the apostle’s interactions with donkeys. These donkeys, however, are not solely beasts of burden, but subjects in the narrative in their own right, interacting and speaking with Thomas and others. Modern interpreters often contextualize the donkey traditions in the Acts of Thomas in the light of the story of Balaam’s Ass from the Hebrew Scriptures or the Messianic symbolism that marks Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem in various gospel traditions. However, this paper contends that other symbolic meanings from the wider Hellenistic world might also be at work in the Acts of Thomas, including associations with the Greek Dionysus and the Egyptian Seth. With these other possible contexts in mind, it becomes possible to imagine that Thomas’ interactions with the donkeys serve multiple purposes in the narrative. On the surface, the animals provide an entertaining element to the trajectory of the story. However, they may also serve as a metaphor for interactions between diverse Christian communities and theologies in antiquity. Therefore, the literal and symbolic place of the donkeys in the narrative may be read as a commentary on one ancient community's views of intersectarian interactions.

More than any other religion, the Manichaeans not only used images in service of their teachings, but attributed a canonical status to a collection of scenes originally created in mid-3rd century Mesopotamia under the direction of the religion's founder, Mani (216-276 CE). Known as the Picture in early sources (Gr./Syr. Eikon, Copt. Hikon, Parth. Ardahang, MPers. Nigar) and Picture-Book in later texts (Pers. Nigarname and the Chin. Tu Ching), its paintings were copied throughout the subsequent 1400-year history of his religion. By focusing on the earliest, Mesopotamian phase of Manichaean history, this paper explores textual and visual evidence on how this unique collection of scenes was handled as a relic of the founder and regarded as a source of institutional authority.

This paper challenges a long-held view that some letters of Paul have more Scriptural quotes than others because of the Jewish education (or lack thereof) of his audiences. Thus, for Philippians, several scholars argue that this epistle lacks scriptural quotes because Paul knew the Philippians would not understand or respond to such argumentation. I consider this presupposition regarding how and why Paul used Scripture to be flawed. In the first place, some are simply operating on the lack of evidence for a Jewish synagogue in Philippi and also on the Roman-ness of his readers. Care is needed to prevent one from assuming too much based on the lack of evidence. Indeed, though the epistle does not contain any direct scriptural quotations, it is loaded with allusions and other verbal, thematic, and narrative links to the Old Testament and Jewish tradions. I will propose a solution to this problem of reading the letter in terms of the audience make-up by suggesting that Paul does not write to the readers he has (for this would be quite complicated in his Romans letter), but to the readers he wants (i.e., where he expects them to learn how to understand his letter). Looking at Philippians from this angle should cause scholars to be wary of mirror-reading Paul’s techniques and assuming we can learn about the audience’s education and ethnicity from the letter.

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In July of 2005 a bulla (clay seal impression) was discovered in the City of David excavations, bearing the name Yehukal ben Shelemyahu ben Shobi. Three years later, in July 2008, and in the same vicinity, another bulla was discovered, bearing the name Gedalyahu ben Pashhur. Both of these bullae date to the end of the 7th/beginning of the 6th cent. BCE. In addition, both of these names are found in Jeremiah 38:1-6, as two officials of the city who call for Jeremiah’s death because he is encouraging the city to surrender to the Babylonians. This paper first discusses these two bullae, as well as a third one found 25 years previously in the City of David, bearing the name Gemaryahu ben Shaphan, a name which also occurs in Jeremiah 36. The excellent state of preservation of all three of these bullae leaves little doubt that the readings are correct. Then follows a brief discussion of the relevant passages in Jeremiah, together with an analysis of the title “official of the city”, which is found on seal impressions. That these three bullae were discovered in a controlled archaeological excavation is of immense importance, since numerous unprovenanced finds from biblical periods especially have been proven to be forgeries (including the bulla of Berekyahu ben Neriyahu the scribe). Finally, the paper turns to a discussion of possible and proposed relationships between the people who bore these names and the account in the book of Jeremiah.

The paper investigates the role of the female prophet/seer in ancient Greece. After some preliminary considerations about terminology, female religious and mantic authority in Greece and the relationship between prophetess and priestess we will look at a (small) selection of Greek female seers and ask how these figures influenced religious and political practice in Hellas. Next to the figure of the Pythia at Delphi we will offer a close reading of other prophetic figures such as the daughters of Teiresias (Daphne and Manto), Cassandra and a certain Diotima, known from Plato’s Symposium (201d). In a third step we will relate these historical and legendary figures to women of a similar profession from the Hebrew Bible and the ancient Near East. We will close our survey with a look at the person of the Sibyl, who in Hellenistic times fuses Greek, Jewish and ancient Near Eastern prophetic characteristics.

This paper describes a step-by-step marking method as a visual aid that assists both students and teachers in introductory level Greek classes. The purpose of this tutorial tool is to provide a visual and sequential guide for Greek translation. From my Greek tutoring experience and observation of introductory Greek classes, I noticed that some students were struggling with translation even when they parsed each word correctly. They were tempted to make a sentence with the parsed words in haste, and so failed in putting the words in the grammatically right place. The step-by-step marking method suggests sequential steps to identify most grammatical elements and suggests a shape-marking system for each grammatical element. I found that following these steps and marking different shapes for each element helped students to identify the element’s grammatical function in the sentence. Once a student has correctly identified the grammatical function of each element, it becomes less of a struggle to produce a satisfactory translation. This paper introduces the step-by-step marking method and how it works. The basic steps are: (1) Find the main verb and mark it with a box, (2.1) Put stars on “little lonely things” (such as relative pronouns, conjunctions, etc.), (2.2) Put a vertical line through each star if you have any box before or after the star, (3.1) Underline prepositional phrases and all datives, (3.2) Place brackets around any infinitive phrase following after a preposition, (4) Find and circle all nominatives, (5.1) Draw triangles on the remaining accusatives, (5.2) Place parentheses around participle phrases. I will present examples of how to use this tool, which will give a good idea of how it will aid students in achieving a good translation in introductory level Greek classes.

This presentation will share the instructional design and teaching tips for the effective use of discussion forums in Biblical Studies that I learned from developing and teaching an introductory Old Testament blended-learning course that incorporated both distance and traditional learning pedagogies and technologies. This presentation will provide tips for how to create and sustain a lively discussion environment, model and reward netiquette, encourage critical thinking, temper overactive “talkers” while inviting full and thoughtful participation from all learners, and provide insightful and timely feedback. I will also share a few of the pitfalls and challenges associated with incorporating distance learning pedagogies and technologies into Biblical Studies courses and how to avoid them.

This paper explores the portrayal of female diviners in relation to their place in family structures. A correspondence between the role of a diviner and a non-normative place in society may be observed in both biblical and Near Eastern texts. In biblical texts, for example, the three named prophetesses, Miriam, Huldah and Deborah, do not have children. Notably, these prophetesses are among the few female characters in the Bible who do not bear children. The only woman who is both called a prophetess and bears a child is the unnamed woman in Isaiah 8:3, who does not in the story receive any word from God. (Rebekah “inquires” [drš] of Yahweh, which certainly rings of divination, though the reference here is ambiguous.) Sometimes the views of female diviners are more negative. As has been recognized, biblical authors do reflect an acceptance of divination (by any other name) when associated with, say, the priest’s ephod and its Urim and Thummim. Elijah resurrects the dead, and is portrayed as a prophet performing a miracle. The texts are less generous, however, toward the medium of En-dor. Leviticus 20:27 condemns any medium to death, but this role may be more associated with women: when Saul seeks out a medium, his request is specifically for a woman. Note interestingly that in Lev 20:6, “turning to mediums” is described as “playing the harlot.” We may also observe portrayals of diviners linked to non-normative gender roles in the texts of Israel’s neighbors. In the Mari letters, as I have argued elsewhere and will present now with increased evidence, the gender-ambiguous assinnu are disproportionately required to submit their hair and hem for verification. Relevant phenomena may also be seen in Babylonian witchcraft texts.

Using the familiar texts, Euripides’ Bacchae and the “Delian Aretalogy of Sarapis” as comparative objects for re-description, this paper explores the application of the concepts of group mirroring and mimicry to illuminate the complex interactions that characterize the encounter between migrating religious communities and the established “native” society. This paper describes these relocation encounters as processes involving a reciprocal rhetorical dance of power—instances of Bhabha’s “double inscription,” expressions of the voyeuristic yet ambivalent desire for the other—between “dominant” and “subordinate” groups in which both reflect each other using shared categories of value, mirroring each other by using these shared categories to oppositionally define self and other. The primary texts reveal that immigrant cults creatively make use of native categories of value: the immigrant cult fashioning a mirror image of the other in the defense of cultural hybridity, while the “native” society, sharing those same categories, re-inscribes them negatively. Both groups locked in this mirroring embrace simultaneously negotiate their identity using discursive strategies and motifs that are found to be already formulaic and stereotypical.

This paper focuses on 4Q390 to study a pattern that appears to occur among several texts discovered at Qumran. 4Q390 depends on Jubilees, but makes subtle changes in language with significant changes in meaning. Although much of the language in 4Q390 could come from other sources, some parts of 4Q390 distinctly echo Jubilees, and almost all parts of 4Q390 could come from Jubilees. Close examination shows that 4Q390 follows Jubilees more than any other text. The persistent resonance suggests use of Jubilees for authority. Remarkably, however, the use of authority does not extend to acceptance of the claims made in Jubilees. In some cases, the exact language appears with variation only in a negative particle, “not.” In other cases, variation in a word or context allows familiar language to resonate with substantially different meaning. Jubilees asserts that God never allows angels (good or bad) to rule over Israel, but 4Q390 uses the same language without the negative particle—the angels of Mastema WILL rule over Israel. Jubilees rejects sectarian division within Israel, but 4Q390 asserts that only a few are chosen while most of Israel is abandoned to annihilation. Jubilees takes a positive view of the priesthood and temple of recent memory (other than Jason, Menelaus and Alcimus), and asserts their eternal validity. In 4Q390, the entire post-exilic priesthood parallels the rule of wicked angels. 4Q390 also echoes the language of jubilee periods, but changes the idea in Jubilees that sin and punishment depend on human choice, not predetermined periods. The case of 4Q390 points to fluidity in the adaptation of literature and ideas. It calls for greater attention to the nuances of the authority of Jubilees at Qumran, and challenges the reconstruction of intellectual history based on shared language alone.

Thirty years ago, a basalt statue of Had-Yith‘i, the king of ancient Sikkan and Guzan, was uncovered at the edge of the ancient city-mound of Tell Fekheriyeh opposite Tell Halaf on a tributary of the Khabur River. The bilingual Akkadian-Aramaic inscription thereon ignited a frenzy of articles mostly concentrating on this early, and in some aspects unique, exemplar of Aramaic. Of particular interest was the dialect witnessed by the Aramaic inscription—the established scholarly opinion became that it should not to be aligned with the well-attested Syrian dialect of Old Aramaic, but a previously unattested “Mesopotamian dialect,” as it exhibited Akkadian-influenced, verb-final clause word order. These dialectic studies, however, provide little discussion of Old Aramaic syntax and lack a systematic attempt to outline discrepancies in clause construction. This paper examines this claim of dialectic divergence in the Aramaic of the Tell Fekheriyeh stele by providing an inductive analysis of Old Aramaic verbal clause word order and comparing it to the constructions found in the Tell Fekheriyeh inscriptions. It will be demonstrated that whereas Tell Fekheriyeh diverges with regard to verb placement, other characteristics of Old Aramaic clause construction—namely the placement of clause modification, infinitive clause construction, and the curse formulary—permeate the Aramaic inscription. In fact, most features, excluding verb placement in main clauses, follow the norms of the contemporaneous Aramaic dialects over against those of Akkadian. Thus it is suggested that this departure need not necessarily be a reflection of a variant local or regional dialect but may be better explained as a scribal innovation particular to the socio-political realities of this border region.

Drawing on social scientific studies of ethnic identity maintenance and acculturation, this paper investigates epigraphic evidence for associations formed by immigrants from Syria and Phoenicia in the Hellenistic and Roman eras. This material illustrates the ways in which immigrants could maintain traditions of their homeland (including honours for the 'ancestral gods') while also rooting themselves within social and cultural life in the society of settlement. The picture that emerges from this case study serves to counter common scholarly traditions that often cite migration and immigrant conditions in sketching an overall portrait of 'rootless' populations in a 'disintegrating world' (e.g. Turcan). Moreover, this paper also points to the value in comparative studies which place Judean groups alongside other, less-studied ethnic associations and immigrant groups.

The biblical lexeme THR is used extensively in the Dead Sea Scrolls. In addition to biblical precedents, new terms and meanings develop from this root in various Qumran texts. Following the methods of scholars who have examined terminology at Qumran (e.g. Dimant), this paper seeks to use purity terms to ascertain connections and disjunctions between the documents as well as their affinities to both Scripture and later forms of Judaism. For example, two terms, tohar, a nominal form, and tohorot ha qodesh, a noun construct, are hapax legomena in Scripture which are used in new ways in Qumran texts. How are these terms, and their synonyms, used in Scripture and how do they function in particular Scrolls? Why have the authors focused on these biblical terms in particular? What do the new usages imply and how prevalent are they across the corpus of the Scrolls? With the publication of new lexical tools for Scrolls research (e.g. concordances), a full-scale study on the use of THR in the Scrolls is now possible and has yielded important results. I suggest that some Scroll authors are not just blending the concepts of ritual and moral purity (Baumgarten, Klawans, et al.), but, more fundamentally, by reshaping biblical terminology, they are fusing the concepts of tohorah, purity, and qedushah, holiness, and this fusion is evident already in parts of Scripture. Some Qumran texts (e.g. 11Q19; MMT) reveal a strict dichotomy between tohorah and qedushah similar to what is found in the Mishnah, while others merge the two concepts (e.g. 1QS, 4Q400-405). This study will be helpful for those trying to identify points of connection and disparity between various Qumran texts, as well as those interested in the development of language, and the ideology it represents, from earlier biblical usages to those prevailing in Second Temple times.

The historicity of Jesus’ prayer to God to forgive his enemies (Luke 23:34: Pater, aphes autois) is still debated by New Testament scholars. The disputed textual tradition underlying the verse and the ambiguous status of the internal arguments in favour of the logion have meant that a definitive answer to its authenticity remains elusive. Where Luke 23:34 is accepted as an authentic Jesus logion (D.L. Bock, 1996), scholarly discussion largely revolves around the identity of those whom Jesus forgives (Jews, Romans, or both?) and the ‘ignorance’ motif (Luke 23:34; cf. Acts 2:36). Significant investigations of aphiêmi and aphêsis have been undertaken (C. Breytenbach, 2000; S. von Stemm, 1999), but this discussion has not been brought into dialogue with the variegated understanding of forgiveness in antiquity and its terminology (sungnômê; sungignôskô). The time is overdue for a reappraisal of the authenticity and the social and theological import of the logion. The paper investigates the logion against the backdrop of forgiveness and enmity traditions in Second Temple Judaism, with a view to testing the logion’s authenticity in its social and religious context. Moreover, the Graeco-Roman context of forgiveness is relevant in a gospel intended for a Gentile audience. Classical scholars (e.g. D. Konstan; cf. K. Metzler, 1991) and modern philosophers (e.g. C.L. Griswold, 2007) have only just begun to investigate this little studied motif of forgiveness in antiquity. The evidence of the philosophers is instructive in this regard, as well as the writings of the rhetoricians and the dramatists. The paper will demonstrate that Luke’s auditors would have struggled to reconcile their understanding of forgiveness with the forgiveness offered by the crucified Christ, whether it was understood within a Jewish or Graeco-Roman milieu. The distinctiveness of the logion in its ancient context is an important pointer to its historicity.

The ethos of a people or a community points to its very identity and vision: this is who we are and this is what distinguishes us from other groups or communities. The ethos gives rise to the ethics of the community: those rules, values, guidelines to which members of the community adhere and which express their identity. This paper analyzes the Didache with a view to disclosing the ethos and identity of the community which it reflects. This analysis also leads to an examination of the ethical admonitions occurring as boundary markers that give expression to the identity of the community of the Didache. The ethical admonitions of the Didache all occur in a theological rather than Christological context. Among the ethical admonitions, attention is given to the Jewish Two Ways of Did 3:1-6; the Double Command of Love; and concepts such as "being perfect" (teleios) and "being double-minded" (dipsychein). The second part of this paper examines the ethos, identity and similar ethical admonitions within three other documents from Jesus groups within Judaism, namely the Letter of James, the Sermon on the Mount and the Two Ways teaching found in the Letter of Barnabas. Based on this investigation, possible affinities among these documents will emerge.

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This presentation will focus on two paintings by the Filipino theologian and activist, Emmanuel Garibay: Jacob wrestling with G*d (2008) and Job (2008). The juxtaposition of the artworks raises critical questions about both biblical characters: How could Job, a wealthy slave-owner, be blameless and righteous? Why should Jacob, who cheated his brother, father and uncle, and prevailed over G*d (whom Garibay portrays as a riot police), respect anyone? What are the consequences of identifying with Job (especially in the works of liberation critics) and Jacob? The inspiration for Garibay’s works is the struggles of people in the corrupt and violent contexts of the Philippines, and I (conditioned by oceanic upbringing and crosscultural migration) will read his works contra-textually with the biblical account. The upshot is a call for reexamination of traditional perspectives and readings, for solidarity with demonstrators and activists in the struggles of oppressed people, and for the courage to confront and question G*d. The presentation will cross several contexts, from the bible to the streets of Manila and Gaza, and the rising seas in Oceania, from literary to visual imagination, and telling, from the stories of Jacob and Job to the story of Jonah, and more.

Divisions of a cultural, social and religious nature are drawn in myth. It is a manner of discourse that inaugurates and justifies identity, the state and the sacred. Jonathan Z. Smith has written of the ways in which biblical myth establishes territorial distinction, or turns space into place, as well as how the system of distinction can be transposed to ritual. So, for example, the prophet Ezekiel’s vision of a restored homeland at once outlines social stratifications and religious hierarchy. This paper considers Genesis as a compendium of myths that establish territorial boundaries through narratives of family relationship. With the Table of Nations (Genesis 10) establishing the principal lines, the stories of Genesis elaborate on the dynamics through which a regional map comes into being. So Abraham’s separation from Lot enacts the difference between the two banks of the Jordan River, the half-brothers Isaac and Ishmael represent the tension between desert settlements and the wilderness, Jacob’s flights determine Israel’s relationship with Edom and Aram and Joseph stages an ongoing, often uncomfortable relationship with Egypt. Reading such stories as myth illustrates the degree to which they establish a social order inextricably tied to landscape. Indeed some historical reflection can be inferred from the stories (the Moabites, Ammonites, Edomites and the rest are actual neighbors), yet their mythic role of determining Israel’s place predominates. At the same time that the paper shows the texts of Genesis to be border-drawing myths, it also explores the theoretical relationship between myth and territory.

The era of Ramesses II, ca. 1500-1200 BCE, is considered by some to have been the first period of internationalism in world history. Militarized states on the eastern shores of Mediterranean Sea, from Greece to the Sudan, all contributed to the shaping of the identity of the region in terms of its history, society, and culture. Marc Van De Mieroop, in his recent volume entitled The Eastern Mediterranean in the Age of Ramesses II (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), has culled the ancient textual and archaeological sources in order to reconstruct the system of interdependence and coexistence that existed among these states during the Late Bronze Age. The first half of this paper will review Van De Mieroop’s synthesis of the data with regard to the states involved in the international network of the period, their political organization and social structure, diplomacy and war, food and drink, aspects of the economy, and cultural interaction. The second half of the paper will focus on Van De Mieroop’s reconstruction of the Mediterranean system as a whole and its relationship to the historical transformation in Palestine during the transition from the Late Bronze Age to the Iron Age I.

This paper will explore the theological consequences of reading Paul's Letter to the Romans through the hermeneutical lens of the Christian church's classical confessional tradition, as articulated in the Nicene Creed and Apostles' Creed. This is not a matter of superimposing foreign dogmatic concepts on a first-century document, but of exploring whether the theological judgments expressed in the creeds might serve to "correct our vision" by bringing into focus significant aspects of Romans that have been relatively neglected in subsequent interpretative traditions. Reformation traditions focused on reading Romans in light of "justification by faith" (not mentioned in the creeds). Recent historical criticism has focused on Paul's understanding of the Law and the relation between Jews and Gentiles (also not mentioned in the creeds). What happens if, instead, we allow the Trinitarian structure of the creeds to inform our interpretation? As a test case, the paper will focus on the third article of the creeds. I will propose that such a reading illuminates important theological motifs of Romans: the Holy Spirit, the church, and eschatological hope for resurrection of the body and the life of the world to come.

Many painters have put brush to canvas to depict the deluge of Genesis 6-9. A notable subset of these artists have chosen to focus viewers' attention on a set of actors almost completely ignored by the actual biblical narrative: the humans outside of Noah's family who perished in the flood. The particulars of various paintings and the dissonance between the laconic biblical narrative and the artistic tradition's graphic paintings of drowning victims provides an intriguing example of visual representation as an act of lament, or even resistance.

The Epistle to the Hebrews has often been called enigmatic and has caused a lot of debate among scholars. In this paper I will try and answer some of the most important questions that have not been fully answered until now: (1) when was this document written, (2) to whom was it addressed (who were the ‘Hebrews’), (3) how could the information about past and possible future persecutions in Hebrews be interpreted and (4) why had some people recently given up the habit of attending the community meetings? The combination of these answers should also present a consistent explanation for this document in the context of early Christianity. It will be argued that this document was written to Jewish Christians (indeed ‘Hebrews’), some of whom had been persecuted under Domitian as tax-evaders of the Jewish tax. For this purpose accused persons had been exposed in public for the inspection of their genitals to find out whether they were circumcised. Conviction would lead to the confiscation of their property. Both elements, the confiscations and the public examination of genitals (theatrizomenoi!), can be found in Hebrews 10.32-34 and in Suetonius, Domit. 12.1-2, as will be made clear. Furthermore a date will be suggested as well: the year 96, after Nerva’s reform of the Fiscus Judaicus. Nerva probably introduced the notion that the Jewish tax only needed to be paid by Jews who followed their ancestral customs. Jewish Christians (who under Domitian had been prosecuted as Jews for 'dissimulata origine imposita genti tributa non pependissent') were thus formally exempted from the tax and this exemption had one huge consequence: it formally led to the loss of their legal status as Jews under Roman law. This could have led to Jewish Christians returning to the synagogue, which the author of Hebrews wants to prevent.

Over the last decade Armin D. Baum has published a considerable number of essays on orality and the Synoptic Problem. His observations and results are now presented and summarized in his book "Der muendliche Faktor und seine Bedeutung fuer die synoptische Frage" (TANZ 49; Tübingen: Francke, 2008). After considering ancient analogies of the Synoptic Problem (the redaction of sources in the Hebrew Bible, in Josephus, and in the Alexander romance), experimental psychological memory research, "Oral Poetry" studies and analogies from the Rabbinic tradition, Baum concludes "that the whole synoptic tradition could be stored by human memory, could be carried as well as preserved by oral tradition and was particularly well-suited to such a process" (p. 405-6). He accepts the priority of Mark, although in his view Matthew and Luke did not use Mark. Rather, all three Synoptic gospel authors "drew independently ... of each other from the same oral source" (p. 417). Thus the Minor Agreements "are a natural characteristic of oral versions of the same text" (p. 410), and a Q document did not exist. The paper will present Baum's main points and arguments in their context of recent studies of orality, the Synoptic Problem and Q (Horsley, Byrskog, Dunn, Mournet et al.). Then it will be asked where Baum has identified new and important areas of research and where the evidence weighs against him.

While the MT readings for Jer 47:5 ("their valley") and Jer 49:4 ("your strength/your plains") are coherent, opinion is divided on whether those readings or the LXX "Enakim" ("the Anakim") should be preferred. Several recent works (NETS translation of Jeremiah; Hermeneia commentary) have opted for the LXX rendering, but little has been published that justifies the LXX, and nothing has been published in terms of an explanation of the LXX reading (i.e., why the mem/nun letter confusion occurred). This paper offers a paleographic explanation for the textual divergence in both locations and defends LXX "Enakim" on additional literary grounds.

The aim of Bernhard Duhm’s well-known source-critical division of Jeremiah was to isolate authentic historical material with which to reconstruct the biography of the prophet. Duhm’s aim was most fully realized in John Skinner’s Prophecy and Religion which offers a full blown biography of Jeremiah. Curiously, only about a third of Skinner’s biography is based on the material Duhm identified as biographical narratives. The largest part of the biography, the story of the first two decades of Jeremiah’s ministry, is reconstructed from the poetic passages of the first twenty chapters—a remarkable feat since, unlike the prose, the poetry contains almost no explicit indications of its biographical setting. Skinner’s biographical presentation depends on fitting isolated units of poetry into a narrative of Jeremiah’s growth in literary power and theological insight. This narrative framework and the resulting biography have striking similarities to the biographies of Romantic poets and artists (Künstlerromane) and the biographies of biblical critics and liberal theologians. In Skinner’s telling, Jeremiah’s gradual disillusionment with all forms of external religion leads to a crisis of faith which allows him to break through to personal religion which finds expression in his lyrical poetry. His new religious insight is that the laws concerning priests, sacrifices, and the temple did not come from God or Moses but are the work of later authors and represented a perversion of the “historical religion of Israel from its native ethical genius.” In other words, Jeremiah comes to accept the Grafian hypothesis. The determinative influence of Romanticism and classic liberal theology evident in the outcome of Skinner’s work raises concerns not only about Skinner’s biographical approach (the influence of which is waning) but also about Duhm’s source-critical theory that facilitates it (a theory which still dominates study of the book of Jeremiah).

The Hebrew Bible suggests that during times of siege, the famine would be so great and circumstances so dire that parents would eat their children for lack of food. Are we to take these texts literally? Were people driven to eat their children? Most probably these passages are literary hyperboles meant to highlight the dreadful state of life during a siege. What then, did happen to children during a siege? While the biblical text may not give a clear answer, we do have a set of documents from the ancient Near East that speak to the fate of children during a siege: the Nippur Siege Texts (ca. 620 BCE). They, like the biblical text, point to an extraordinary practice: parents selling their children. The language and irregular format of the siege sale documents demonstrates a discomfort with the sale of a free child. The issue at hand is the permanency of the servitude. Permanently selling a free child to another person, as the siege documents suggest, violated societal norms. Therefore, only during times when outside circumstances (i.e. famine or siege) threatened societal norms did society allow a parent to sell a child. In addition to the discomfort with the sale of a child, the siege texts also demonstrate ambiguity with respect to the free-sold child’s legal status. Drawing on the work of Homi Bhabah, we can see how the terminology used in the documents may indicate that the status of the sold-free child was neither slave nor free, but a new, hybrid status—a status that included elements of both slave and free.

Deuteronomy’s view of kingship as displayed in “The Laws Regulating Officials” (Deut 16:18-18:22) features the loss of the king’s role as judge of last resort. Where ancient near eastern monarchs had customarily been expected to serve as judge-in-chief, Deuteronomy gives this role to a judge and priests stationed in Jerusalem (17:8-9). This reassignment significantly reduces the power and prestige of the monarchy. The Deuteronomistic History offers several examples of the King serving as judge, including kings David (2 Sam 12, 14), Solomon (1 Kings 3), and, prospectively, Absalom (2 Sam 15). While some argue that these episodes serve to glorify the monarchy, a careful look at these passages shows that they tend to put the king in question in a bad light. The 2 Samuel passages involving David reveal a king who is too easily gullible; Absalom’s promise to grant “justice” is part of his grab for the throne, and while Solomon’s judgment of the two prostitutes wins the people’s approval (always suspect in the Deuteronomistic History!), on reflection, his reckless endangerment of an infant does not mark him as a wise judge. David’s juridical activity in fact serves to reveal his poor judgment in general, revealed a number of times through the course of the Succession Narrative. And Solomon’s desire to act as a judge, exemplified by his enslavement of his own people for the service of building the “House of the Forest of Lebanon” as a site for judging cases (1 Kings 7), becomes emblematic of his desire for self-exaltation. In the David and Solomon stories, therefore, the Deuteronomistic Historian employs each king’s determination to act as judge, contrary to the principles laid out in Deut 17:8-20, as a contributing factor toward his ultimately negative evaluations of Kings David and Solomon.

Matth 27:51-53 tells a short story about the resurrection of “the Holy Ones” immediately after Jesus’ death and their appearance in the Holy City. The understanding of this passage is notoriously difficult as shown by many different and sometimes contradictory interpretations. Beyond the usual tradition-historical approaches this paper seeks to explain the various aspects of the story from an intratextual perspective within the context of Matthew’s Gospel.

This paper will argue that the household code in Colossians 3:18, by rhetorically reorienting the power of the paterfamilias, subverts what James Scott has called the “public transcript” of the greater Graeco-Roman world. Borrowing the linguistic categories for both the domestic and imperial household, the author of Colossians, while not attempting to underwrite a patriarchal system categorically reorients the believer, subverting the Roman imperial model of the pater, and focusing Christian behavior on “life in Christ.” In the honor and shame cultural milieu of the Greaco-Roman world, the “household” now becomes the domestic Church and the pater learns his cultural cues, not from his social peers but in juxtaposition to his social subordinates, i.e., the wife/woman and the slave. Far from a conservative rhetorical formulation, the household code in Colossians reveals the true “hidden transcript” of an early Church community committed to reorient social borders in the Graeco-Roman around the God of Jesus as the true paterfamilias, replete with its own organization structure, albeit a subversive one based within the greater imperial world.

Deuteronomy offers the only prescriptive texts about prophecy anywhere in the Pentateuch. It describes false prophets as those who are either connected in one way or another with deities other than YHWH or YHWH prophets who speak (i.e., predict) incorrectly. Neither definition is particularly helpful: the former because it proscribes something that appears rather obvious, the latter because it understands prophecy's function too narrowly. Several narratives in Jeremiah often attributed to a Deuteronomic redaction of the book take up the second type of false prophet (one who predicts incorrectly) and complicates Deuteronomy's simplistic dismissal of these prophets. In particular, this paper examines Jer 18, 26, 28 and their attempts to redefine true and false prophecy. It is argued that these three texts in Jeremiah specifically complicate the simplistic notion of predictive accuracy as the criterion for prophecy. After looking at the way in which Deut 18 is appropriated by Jer 28, the paper examines how Jer 26's invocation of Micah of Moresheth contravenes Deut 18. This is rounded off with an examination of Jer 18, which offers an explanation for why prediction is not the best criterion to use in evaluating prophets. Rather, as is shown here, Jer 18 and 26 argue that a true prophet is one who prompts repentance.

The ambiguity of the Johannine temple logion's intertextual link to Psalm 69:9 (in Jn 2:17) has led biblical scholars (most notably, Maarten J. J. Menken) to posit that this psalm quotation is a proleptic reference to Jesus' impending death. Yet, I contend, this reading overlooks the overall method of scripture interpretation that the gospel itself promotes and, more importantly, teaches its reader to practice: post-resurrectional remembering. By employing insights from narrative and reader-response criticism, this paper offers a reading of John 2:13-23 that takes seriously how the pericope "works" upon the reader to achieve its rhetorical goals. I first identify (what I call) the pericope's narrative pattern – the complex of rhetorical moves it exercises upon the implied reader. I argue that, through a well-crafted "gap of indeterminacy," the narrative pattern of John 2:13-23 compels the reader to supply an interpretation of the relationship between Jesus' action in the temple and the disciples' remembered quotation from Psalm 69. By reading as the implied reader, we may discover how the text directs its own interpretation. I will then show that when read with the interpretive method and hermeneutical lens with which the pericope equips its reader, the psalm quotation is not principally a reference to Jesus' death, but is a foreshadowing of Jesus' triumphant resurrection as the rebuilt temple. Such a conclusion has important implications for the Johannine theology of resurrection as well as for the intertextual use of the psalms (and Ps 69 in particular) in John. Finally, this paper demonstrates the interpretive benefits of taking seriously the gospel's own rhetorical goal as stated in 20:31 – to persuade its reader toward belief.

P. Oxy 3.405, consisting of fragments of Irenaeus' Against Heresies 3.9.3, has gained some notoriety over the years for its text and its early (late second or early third century) date. This paper takes up an under-reported scribal feature of the text, its marginal diples used to draw attention to the quotation from Matt. 3.16-17. The paper explores the background for P. Oxy. 405 in the varied use of diples in secular literary texts, then examines their use as indicators of Scriptural citations in Christian texts. It deliberates on the likelihood that in P. Oxy. 405 is the earliest surviving instance of a Christian scribal convention parallel in some ways to the nomina sacra, marking not sacred names but sacred texts.

Job’s sudden change of tonality in his beginning lament (ch. 3) has often been noted. While a historical-critical reading explains this change as an indication of different authorship, a literary reading usually explains Job’s cry as revealing his interiority after the seven days of silence upon the ash heap. The response of Job in ch. 3 (‘nh in v. 2) is thus sometimes explained as his reaction to his catastrophes described earlier in the prologue. However, it seems clear that Job has already offered his response after each disaster (1:21; 2:10). This paper argues that the rationale for Job’s beginning lament is indeed threefold. First, he is responding not only to his loss of possessions and health, but also to the prolongation of his suffering. Second, he is responding to his friends who have expressed alienation instead of sympathy to his plight. Third, he is responding to the unreliable narrator who has misinterpreted his responses in the prologue and whose comments reveal interest only in the appropriateness of Job’s speeches about God. This threefold rationale for Job’s beginning lament thus partly resolves the tension between the prologue and the dialogue.

In the context of teaching the poetic texts of the Hebrew Bible, it helps to work with transparent definitions of poetry and features thereof. Things like meter, rhythm, and the distinction between the two as clarified by Viktor Maksimovich Zhirmunsky are not difficult to teach if examples are given first from native language verse, biblical verse in translation, and finally, Hebrew itself, the ultimate goal. Once again, when it comes to parallelism, the chief trope of ancient Hebrew poetry, it helps to introduce the phenomenon of “recurrence” according to the model of Roman Jakobson as tweaked by P. J. Nel with examples from native language poetry, before going on to examine its characteristic realization in ancient Hebrew poetry. The notion of semantic transfers via metaphorical frames of reference is also of great utility. This paper will demonstrate that the theory of metaphor advanced by Benjamin Harshav is a cogent point of departure for the purpose of identifying metaphorical planes in Hebrew poetry. Worked examples: Isaiah 1:2-6; Isaiah 40:1-11, and Job 28.

The existence of a 6th century sanctuary at Mizpah that took the place of the first Jerusalem temple has been a topic of debate among scholars. D. Jones suggested in 1963 that Jer 41:5 describes limited cultic rites, involving only cereal and incense offerings, that continued at the site of the ruined temple in Jerusalem after the destruction of 587/6 BCE. More recently J. Blenkinsopp has argued for a shift in cultic activity to Mizpah following the destruction of Jerusalem. This paper will investigate both views in the light of the description of the offerings mentioned in Jer 41:5, and those rites that were authorised for practice at the Jewish temple in Elephantine in the late 5th century BCE. The latter are reflected in the correspondence between the sanctuary priests in Elephantine and the Persian administrator in Judah, AP30-33. The initial letter from Elephantine that requests permission to offer animal, cereal and incense sacrifices, and the reply from the Judaean administration authorising only cereal and incense offerings, will be discussed as evidence in favour of Blenkinsopp’s hypothesis.

For Jews, transmission of the biblical text is nothing short of a command. It follows that introducing children to the literature of their heritage and identity is of the utmost importance. But what Bible stories to tell? What details to omit? What Midrashic embellishments to add? What sort of illustrations to include? This presentation will consider these questions as they pertain to Bibles published for Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform Jewish children at levels from pre-school to about age thirteen. Where especially pertinent, and to the extent that time allows, there will be comparisons to Bibles published for Christian children of various denominations.

The metaphorical concept of Mother Earth is a thread that runs through the first four episodes of 4 Ezra (2 Esdras 3:1–10:59). The underlying conceptual metaphor of Mother Earth provides coherence between various agricultural and reproductive metaphors in both Uriel’s analogical arguments and Ezra’s meditations on human nature in the dialogues between Ezra and Uriel, but it is called into question both within these dialogues and in Ezra’s subsequent dialogue with a mourning woman who turns out to be Zion. There is a fine example of conceptual blending in the dialogue between Ezra and the mourning woman, in which Ezra maintains that the earth has more cause to mourn the loss of her children than does the woman. The author uses this blend to point out the problems with ascribing motherhood to the Earth, showing that his apparent fascination with this conceptual metaphor does not prevent him from recognizing it as a metaphor, and subjecting it to critical examination.

Economic competition has rarely received the attention it deserves among ancient historians. As long as the ideas of the primitivists held sway, this situation was hardly surprising. As Jean Andreau (2002: 36) noted, “Finley was convinced” that the ancient economy was not a market economy “and therefore denied that ancient commerce and its evolution could be studied according to ideas such as competition or the law of supply and demand.” If, however, the Romans possessed a market economy, as Peter Temin (2001: 181) has persuasively argued, competition becomes by definition a pivotal issue. In a market economy scarce resources are rationed by means of prices as buyers and sellers compete for wealth. Supply and demand, along with the cost of production, determine these prices. Buyers compete with each other for goods, bidding up prices. The winners are those able to purchase the products they need. Sellers compete with other sellers to produce or deliver goods and services to consumers. The winners make a profit and the losers go out of business. What evidence, then, exists for Roman economic competition? The two basic forms of economic competition are consumer competition and entrepreneurial rivalry. Consumer competition or rivalry among buyers is most evident at auctions, a typical feature of Roman economic life, where everything from real estate to olives on the tree was sold. Entrepreneurial rivalry, on the other hand, occurs when producers, merchants or firms compete with each other for buyers. Examples of Roman entrepreneurial competition, however, are surprisingly hard to come by. In this paper I will argue that the conditions of “perfect competition” apply to the market for certain agricultural commodities in the late Republic and early Empire and thereby limited entrepreneurial rivalry. This conclusion has important consequences for our understanding of the effects of Roman euergetism and philanthropy.

Paul wrote his famous Letter to the Romans in an attempt to commend himself and his gospel to the Roman Christ believers, his ultimate objective being to win their backing for his projected mission to Spain. To this end he presents "my gospel" (2:16) as a new "type of teaching" (6:17), which unlike Torah does not simply explicate the righteousness of God but actually empowers Christ believers to live righteously. Indeed, just as in chapter 1 Paul claims that idolatrous gentiles have been "handed over" to sin, so in chapters 5-8 Paul claims that Christ believers are by the fact of their conversion "handed over" as it were to his gospel, which then "enslaves" them to righteousness (6:17 and passim). Central to this enslaving unto righteousness is the activity of the divine pneuma. In this paper I explore the role of the pneuma in Paul's construction of his gospel (and of himself as a spiritual adept; 1:11; 15;16, 19) in Romans. I claim that Paul structures his letter to the Romans to make precisely this point, and that this can be seen, among other means, by comparing the structure of Paul's presentation of his gospel in Romans with his earlier letter to the Galatians.

In numerous recent works, Ian Young, Robert Rezetko, and Martin Ehrensvärd have challenged the traditional ‘three-stage’ model of Biblical Hebrew diachronic development(archaic, early, late Biblical Hebrew.Working together, these authors marshal a great deal of data in building their case for their‘new synthesis’, that Early Biblical Hebrew and Late Biblical Hebrew relate non-chronologically as two contemporaneous dialects. In the first half of this paper, I will examine the theoretical assumptions and methodological moves that Young, Rezetko, and Ehrensvärd make.For instance, these three authors acknowledge the axiom that language changes, and yet the ‘new synthesis’ gives the impression that there is no discernible change in the entire Biblical Hebrew corpus.Additionally, the data adduced are the ‘usual suspects’ of lexemes,morphological patterns, and simple syntactic collocations. But whatabout systemic changes, such as shifts in word order or verbal semantics? In the second half of this paper, I will take up the 1977 claim of Talmy Givón, that Biblical Hebrew witnessed a shift from verb-subject to subject-verb basic word order, and consider the implications for Young, Rezetko, and Ehrensvärd’s non- chronological proposal.

Scholars of ancient Near Eastern literature have long recognized that the language of courtroom procedure permeates the language of prayer. In Akkadian, the formulation of a litigants' claim before the court might end with the phrase "render our verdict." The speaker in an incantation uses the same formula to demand auspicious outcomes. Hebrew psalms, such as Psalms 7:9 and 43:1, make similar demands in similar language. The roots of this language in the legal sphere, however, have not been fully exposed. This paper does so by drawing on biblical descriptions of trials, as well as on analogous records from Mesopotamia. It hopes to consider what the presence of these demands for judgment implies for biblical prayer.

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This paper situates aspects of the reception of the work of Jacob of Sarug, a prolific poet, monk, and bishop of the fifth century, in the milieu of emerging Islam. Jacob’s writings were used in the hymnody of the liturgical life of Eastern Christian churches. Although much of his work remains unedited or untranslated, it was a crucial conduit for the transmission of hagiographical and apocryphal material in the Byzantine period. Syriac- and Arabic-speaking Christians sang his popular compositions in their churches located in cities such as Jerusalem and Edessa, that is, in areas that were frequented by pre-Islamic Arab traders from Peninsular Arabia. Evidence of contact between Jacob of Sarug and Christians in South Arabia also is available. Several of Jacob’s compositions reveal parallels to themes or narratives treated in the Qur’an and further developed in early Islamic exegesis. In Surat al-Kahf [18]:9-26, the Qur’an tells the story of the Companions of the Cave, which features close parallels to the Christian hagiography of the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus, especially in the form in which this account is treated in two of Jacob’s metrical homilies. Other homiletic material functions as a valuable source of information concerning apocryphal Christian traditions on apostles that relate to material found in the Qur'an and later commentators. A more systematic discernment of Jacob’s biblical interpretation of Old and New Testament themes and hagiographical traditions, both in and of themselves and in relation to their reception in ancient religious traditions, including early Islam, is a scholarly desideratum which this paper addresses.

In this paper, I explore how capitalism utilizes Christian masochism in producing and maintaining certain power structures that are tied to neoliberalist capitalism. If sexuality and gender are constructed in collusion with capitalistic power, a shift in capitalism should create different sexual and gender normatives. I explore, then, how a shift in capitalism (from a closed, centrally powerful and industrialized system [Fordism] to an open, globally diverse and electronically based system) may involve a queering of gender normatives, and particularly a valorization of masochism. I argue that there is an emerging trend in praise of masochism in post-modern ideologies, primarily those works that conflate suffering, the bible and the constructions of gender. I first argue that because of the needs of a dynamic and global capitalism, perceptions of modern Christianity, as they are derived from biblical valorizations of suffering, aid in producing docile bodies -- bodies that submit to power while being under the illusion of sexual freedom. Physical bodies, no longer required en masse by an industrial-based capitalism to reproduce, can wander within wider, more elastic sexual and gender boundaries; it is a relaxing of compulsory heterosexuality. However, capitalism in whatever form is still capitalism (David Harvey). It needs fewer bodies, but those bodies must self-regulate. These newly produced, fluid, ambivalent sexual identities must be willing, no, eager to suffer for this elasticity. It is a production of queer sexualities, but these are, as all sexualities are, manufactured to serve power. Queer sexuality does not subvert power nor is it produced apart from, or over and against the ideological center. It is merely moving within that system (but Judith Butler has said this all along). This paper intends expand on Butler: the status quo (heterosexism and the production of capitalist power) is also nourished by postmodern ideology and biblical critics like me.

Several interrelated steps might be taken in constructing an approach to the healing and exorcism practice of the historical Jesus that moves beyond the limits reality allowed by western scientific discourse. In contrast to the confining concepts of “disease” and “cure” of western bio-medicine (still deployed in the NRSV), (cultural) medical anthropologists have moved to the broader, less culturally specific concepts of “illness” and “healing.” They insist that illness, its diagnosis, and its healing include social dimensions and are culturally defined/ determined. More recently, (critical) medical anthropologists suggest that political and economic factors play a role in the illness and healing. Anthropologists’ and others’ study of spirit-possession and exorcism cults in Africa suggest the medical anthropologists broadening of the approach is appropriate and helpful for understanding illness and healing practices that have previously seemed strangely “magical” or “miraculous” to western scholars. These comparative materials and medical anthropological approaches also suggest, along with critical developments in Gospel studies, that students of the historical Jesus may want to broader their approach to how the Gospels are used as sources. That is, it may be most appropriate to consider episodes of healing and exorcism is components of broader Gospel narratives rather than testing individual “miracle stories” for (elements of) historicity. To test and exemplify these aspects of a new approach to Jesus’ healing and exorcism, I will focus on a few specific episodes such as the hemorrhaging woman and the man possessed by the demon whose name turns out to be “Legion.”

Although the modern chapter and verse divisions in the Gospels are much later in date, there are already several systems of dividing the text of John present in manuscripts from the sixth century (and possibly earlier), as well as various traditions of chapter headings and summaries found at the beginning of the Gospel. Several of these witnesses contain a biblical text which is Old Latin in affiliation rather than Jerome's revision later known as the Vulgate. This paper, based on the transcriptions made for the new edition of the Vetus Latina Iohannes where such information has been systematically recorded for the first time, will present the differing schemes, discuss their significance, and explore patristic parallels for some of the forms of text in this additional material.

Leviticus 19 provides a call to "be holy as I the Lord, your God,is holy (v. 2)." Included is this call is the proper treatment of those considered to be vulnerable in the community. Especially defenseless would be the immigrant who had neither property rights nor family ties to rely on for protection. The paper is based on a collaborative reading of Leviticus 19 and discussion of the treatment of the immigrant in today's society. Collaborative preaching, as set out by John McClure, seeks to move beyond the solitary voice of the preacher and include the voices of others in the study of the text and preparation of the sermon. Closely related to the study of collaborative preaching is the area of Contextual Hermeneutics which seeks a cross-cultural listening to the text. My research included a study guide for Leviticus 19 that I used in Bible studies in different settings. The presentation is a summary of this research. It includes a synopsis of the Leviticus 19 passage, background on collaborative preaching and contextual hermeneutics, responses from the Bible studies, and implications for interpretation and preaching.

In the 2008 movie Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist an inebriated young woman calls her friend and proclaims, “I’ve found Jesus!” We see her look up, as she repeats, “Jesus! He’s much taller in person.” Standing next to her is an actor dressed as Jesus smoking a cigarette. We learn later that this Jesus is part of a holiday themed drag-show. Interestingly, the character dressed as the Son of God reads as male, perhaps alluding to the ambiguous gendering of Jesus in the biblical and Christian traditions. The drag Jesus, moreover, reminds us that drag, camp and other forms of queer performance and culture are often about more than entertainment for entertainment’s sake; rather, queer performance can be understood as a critique of dominant cultures, political, social, and religious, which inscribe heteronormativity and strict categories of gender and sexuality. In this vein, a drag Jesus might serve to challenge conservative Christian views of Jesus as a defender of “family values.” (A recent video featuring the actor Jack Black as a Jesus who challenges California’s Proposition 8 functioned similarly.) As a form of critique, the performances of queer culture often exist in tension with popular culture in general, critiquing the latter, while the latter seeks to embrace, constrain and commodify queer culture. In light of this messy relationship, this paper will highlight some of the ways that queer culture might contribute a critical and important voice to conversations about engaging the intersections between popular culture and the biblical texts and traditions.

It is striking that many of the Israelite priests have Egyptian personal names, apparently starting with Aaron. But the priestly associations of Israel with Egypt go deeper than that. There are also interesting similarities between the priestly role in Israel's health care and the health care role of the ancient Egyptian physician, often a priest as well as a physician, who is willing at times to employ religio-magical means. Israel's priests did not effect healing--that was more the role of prophets and others--but the priests had a central role in health care if only because of the importance of purity and the role of the sanctuary. In the overview by John Nunn (Ancient Egyptian Medicine), the Egyptian physician (1) examines the sick person, (2) provides a formal diagnosis of the disease, and (3) offers a remedy, if possible. The Israelite priest, as is especially clear in dealing with the skin/surface ailment, tsara'at, (1) examines the sick person, (2) offers a diagnosis, and (3) if possible provides a remedy in terms of a ritual that allows the person reentry into the sacred space of the community, access to which is central to health care.This paper examines the functional similarities between the Egyptian physicians/priests, as presented in the Egyptian medical papyri, and the Israelite priests, especially as described in the Book of Leviticus.

There are various real or apparent discrepancies between John and the Synoptic Gospels about the events in the last week of Jesus. For example, as is well known, John and the Synoptic Gospels apparently give a different date for the Crucifixion. According to the Synoptics, the Last Supper was a Passover meal, eaten in the evening of Nisan 15, and the Crucifixion was later that same Jewish day (running from sunset to sunset), hence on Nisan 15. However John places the Last Supper, the trials of Jesus and the Crucifixion all before the Passover meal, so that Jesus died on Nisan 14, at about 3 pm (the same time as the first Passover lambs were slain, according to Josephus). There therefore appears to be a fairly major historical discrepancy between John and the Synoptics about the dates of events as important as the Last Supper and the Crucifixion. There are also discrepancies between John and the Synoptics about other events in the last week of Jesus, for example the cleansing of the Temple. What is required to help solve these problems is a chronological framework we can have confidence in. Most scholars agree that the Crucifixion was on a Friday (all four Gospels) and that Jesus died when Pilate was the Procurator of Judea, well documented to be 26-36 CE. We can therefore pose the following question: when did either Nisan 14 or 15 fall on a Friday in the period 26-36 CE? I have used astronomy to reconstruct the Jewish calendar in Jerusalem in the first century CE and this reconstruction, together with the biblical evidence, clearly rules out Nisan 15 as the date of the Crucifixion. The date of the Crucifixion given by John, Nisan 14, is therefore correct. In this talk I will answer the criticisms of some scholars that astronomy cannot be used in this way. There is then the question of the nature and date of the Last Supper. “Different calendar” theories have been proposed before (in which it is suggested that John and the Synoptics were using different calendars for the date of Passover) but they have not been accepted because they are either wrong or not convincing. However, I have produced a new “different calendar” theory, for which there is evidence, which fits the details in both John and the Synoptics remarkably well. If this theory is accepted, it provides a firm framework for reconstructing the events in the last week of Jesus, and answering a number of historical questions.

Regarding the counting of the days and the naming of the months, the lexical evidence of the Ugaritic texts (notably the ritual instructions and the economic texts) shows a distinct orientation towards the moon. The beginning of the month is determined by the appearance of the sickle of the new moon after sunset, the full moon constituting the cultic summit between two new moon phases. The days of the month are structured by their starting point after the previous sunset. In contrast to this moon-centered pattern, the Hebrew texts exhibit a linguistic structure of time that is predominantly aligned toward the sun, representing the point of reference for the day’s outset at sunrise. Nevertheless, the juxtaposition within the Old Testament texts of soli-lunar (šmš-yr?) and lunar (?dš) (concepts of time raises questions of heritage and influence, and of their deposits in language. The paper will include a brief look at the Aramaic and Phoenician terminology of time, as well as the solar and lunar aspects of the iconographical evidence from Israel/Palestine.

This paper will trace the reception of the Laws of Hammurabi in later periods and will place the work of Raymond Westbrook within that context.

Jeremiah speaks of the necessity of clearing out the land (uprooting, tearing down, pulling out) in order to prepare for the new crop (planting) and homes (building). Related to this is the theme sounded in Leviticus 26 regarding the exile as a forced sabbatical for the land during which it might recover from its abuse. Both of these metaphors focus upon the exile in the sense of a ‘purging’ or ‘cleansing’ of the land required for restoration, but the Deuteronomic tradition gravitates toward the idea of ‘clearing’ while the Priestly tradition thinks instead of ‘resting’. How do these metaphors relate to the larger Deuteronomic/Prophetic tradition on one hand and Priestly tradition on the other? The use of these different metaphors invites an investigation to trace out their intersection in actual agricultural practice in order to further understand the sort of conceptual models by which the writers interpreted their political location in exile.

In 1 Corinthians Paul made mention of two Jewish pilgrimage festivals, namely, the Passover and the Pentecost. In chapter 5 he identified Christ with the paschal lamb and asked the Corinthian believers to celebrate the festival with unleavened bread (vv.7-8). And in chapter 16 he made it clear that he would have to stay at Ephesus until the Pentecost (v.8). These references are quite remarkable as he never mentioned any of such Jewish festivals by name elsewhere in his letters (cf. Gal 1:18; 2:1; 4:10; Col 2:16; Acts 20:6). Why then did Paul specifically mention two of them—the Passover and the Pentecost—exclusively in 1 Corinthians? How did such Jewish festivals shape his ministry for the gentile churches at Corinth and Ephesus and the way of his argumentations in 1 Corinthians? In the present paper, we will attempt to answer these questions and suggest the implication of our study on the topic of Early Jewish Christian relations.

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Vincent Ilustre is the Executive Director of the Center for Public Service at Tulane University. Since Hurricane Katrina, Tulane has become a leading university for incorporating Service-Learning throughout the curriculum. Vincent and his staff will be facilitating the workshop by helping participants begin using and improving Service-Learning pedagogy.

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The centurion’s “confession” in Mark 15:39 has generated considerable debate. Among Markan scholars, the “confession” has typically been interpreted as (1) a kind of mockery tantamount to the various forms of insult hurled at Jesus by the Roman soldiers, the religious authorities, and the passers-by, (2) an ambiguous pronouncement whose intent cannot be determined, or (3) an authentic declaration of Jesus’ identity that marks the first unqualified christological pronouncement by a human character in Mark’s story. In assessing the “confession”, research has predominately focused on issues such as grammar, the social and historical setting, and the broader narrative context of Mark’s story. However, while these issues are indispensible in making an informed decision about centurion’s declaration, it is imperative that scholars move beyond these chirographic-based approaches to explore the oral dynamics at work in Mark’s story. The purpose of this paper is to examine how performance criticism informs and contributes to this much disputed issue in Markan studies.

While a majority of scholars in recent years have rejected Papias’s claim that the writer of the Gospel of Mark was Peter’s interpreter, a few have made a compelling case that Peter was indeed a significant source for the gospel. This minority of scholars has generally treated Peter’s account as a quasi-journalistic account, a detached and objective rendering of the events surrounding the ministry and passion of Jesus. Meanwhile, various aspects of the gospel have remained a puzzle, especially its severely negative treatment of the disciples in general, and of Peter in particular. In the light of recent explorations of performative aspects of biblical texts, and the emergence of the field of study known as performance criticism, I would like to suggest the possibility that Mark’s gospel represents not a collection of coolly objective reports from Peter shaped into a compelling narrative by the gospel writer, but rather at least in part a transcription of Peter’s powerful public performance of his story of following Jesus. The negative treatment of the disciples would then take on an entirely different character, more along the lines of a satirical self-mockery. Scholars should consider the possibility of such an origin in Peter’s performance of the gospel and the implications of this possibility for interpreting the gospel.

The construction of “theology” has long been viewed in Judaic circles, at least prior to the modern moment, as falling within the purview of Christianity (Jews historically and contemporarily preferring the more intellectually envisioned “philosophy” instead); and so-called “biblical theology,” more often than not, as the “sacred domain” of fundamentalist/evangelical Christianities. The Noah story as manifested in Genesis 6-9 within the context of an SBL meeting in New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina (29/30 August 2005) provides us with a opportunity to construct a Jewish theology of so-called “natural disasters” and “unnatural disasters” by re-visiting the story itself and re-examining post-biblical/rabbinic (and other) commentators. What are the lessons to be learned directly theologically from this story, if at all? What are the lessons to be learned directly theologically from the midrashic/commentary traditions, if at all? Are they relevant to us today as the world increasingly confronts both natural disasters (e.g. global warming vis-à-vis Al Gore’s “An Inconvenient Truth”) and unnatural disasters (e.g. the rise in global anti-Semitism and genocides)? This contribution is an initial attempt to confront both texts and questions.

It is common for interpreters to identify the “proud garland of the drunkards of Ephraim” (Isa 28:1, 3) as a metaphor for the walls of Samaria, based on a supposed visual similarity between the “garland” (‘atarah) on a human head and the walls of a city on a hilltop. The ancient iconographic evidence suggests that a different interpretation is more likely, namely, that the ‘atarah hould be understood as referring to the human king (and thus translated as “crown”). The oracle should, in turn, be understood within the framework of royal oracles.

The Protestant Reformation has had an ambiguous relationship with the Fine Arts. However, Luther thought that biblcal art could play an important pedagogical role. Luther's Bible of 1534 (the first 'complete' Bible produced under Luther's auspices) is richly illustrated with 117 woodcuts. By focusing on the woodcuts selected for the Book of Genesis, this paper will examine the hermeneutical relationships between the Biblical text,the Ennarationes in Genesis, Luther's commentary on Genesis and the visual representations of women from Genesis. It will argue that the selection of woodcuts is imbued with doctrinal overtones and that the representation of biblical women reflects 16th century debates on the position of women.

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The writers of the New Testament certainly knew and were influenced by the Twelve. But where verbal parallels with the text of the Twelve are too short clearly to be quotations, it is difficult to determine if the parallel is truly a literary allusion or simply the common vocabulary of a shared tradition. Focusing on allusions to the Minor Prophets in the book of James, this paper will explore methodology involved in an attempt to demonstrate reference to the Greek text of the Twelve in this epistle.

Students of Indian Christian Theology have suggested that three philosophical frameworks have impacted theology in India. First, there is the colonial framework, espoused by those theologians who were trained in western methodology, in theological institutions under the auspices of various Christian denominations. Second, there was the Brahamanical framework, which is espoused by a powerful group of Christian theologians who came from the dominant priestly caste of Hindu society- the Brahmins. In more recent times Dalit interpretations of the Bible, espoused by theologians coming from “outcaste and backward classes’, seek to interpret the Bible from a Liberation framework. This paper will seek to examine a neglected field of Indian Christian Theology- the theological framework of the St. Thomas Nasrani community. The paper will show that Western, Brahamanical and Liberation frameworks do more harm than good to the theological endeavor in India. The basis of the theological models of this community was ancient pre-Hindu traditions and a profound interaction with the Jewish traditions of Malabar. The paper will focus on the use of the Bible in the St. Thomas Christian Nasrani traditions of India, in their formation of theology. It will seek to show that the dialogue between this community and the Jews of Malabar gives a better foundation for doing theology in India. It also gives a good model for dialogue in today’s pluralistic global context.

An open question in pauline studies is: Why did Paul succeed vis-à-vis his written words to predominately non-literate communities? Rhetorical critics have almost universally agreed that Paul’s use of letters placed him in a markedly inferior position to those who argued their authority in person. This paper will address this question by employing a model of non-literate communities' use of written texts which will reveal that Paul did enjoy some advantage by means of his written instructions to his communities, precisely because they were addressed to non-literate people. Three major sources of evidence from the Roman imperial period--curse tablets, amulets, and magical papyri--will be examined, particularly as to their shared attribution of power to written texts, and moreover, to mysterious written characters. The evidence will show that both literate and non-literate people believed that the written text was integral to the potency of the articles in question and that the decipherability of the lettering was inconsequential, if not preferable, to the participants in the ritual. A similar reverence developed, it will be argued, for Paul's written texts within his communities. As largely non-literate people, their understanding of the value of a written document would compel them both to respond favorably to Paul’s writing and to preserve his letters even though they contained harsh critiques of their communities.

Genesis 1:1 juxtaposes four immense concepts: “In the beginning (the supreme timescale) God (the supreme Being) created (engagement in the supreme activity) the heavens and the earth” (the supreme product). In grammatical terms, the ultimate adverb qualifies the verb behind all verbs, with the preeminent subject acting on the fullest object. The Torah may thus be construed as beginning with – and thereby emerging from – a nexus of four irreducible categories in human thought: the declaration of an action, its situation in a context, together with the specification of its agent, and an indication of its object. Analysis of this paradeigmatic statement in terms of a contemporary theory of creativity (Creative Problem Solving – CPS) shows a consonance between Genesis 1:1 and the four distinct facets of the formal study of human creativity. In terms of the “Four P’s” of the theory, these aspects draw attention to the Press (the context) for creative activity, the prerequisite traits of the Person who is creating, the Process of creating, and the Product of creative activity. This poster associates the aforementioned semantic concepts and categories in Genesis 1:1 with the four aspects of creativity: an original image schematizes the summative first statement of the text which substantiates the basic building blocks of thinking as we know it.

Acts 17:1-8 narrates the origins of the Thessalonian ekklesia singularly and spatially-out from the synagogue to Jason's house. Both the historicity of the story and its relevance as a model for Paul's modus operandi have been rightly questioned, leaving little reason for attempting to coordinate an analysis of Acts 17:1-8 with one of 1 Thessalonians. However, examining the spatial logic of the Thessalonian mob story both in the context of Acts and in comparison with 1 Thessalonians can produce insights not about origins and chronology but about the broad first-century production and emergence of discursive and material spaces called "Christian." Drawing on space theory, critical geography, and queer theory, this paper examines the mob's dragging Jason and the Thessalonian adelphoi out of the house and before the politarchs as potential enemies of the city and the empire as a forceful "outing," and compares it to Paul's closeting advice to the Thessalonian ekklesia to live in a way that "commands the respect of outsiders" (4:12). Both texts map out the top-down geometry of imperial power as well as manage anxieties about penetrable community borders. But each enters these multiscalal spaces from different spatial horizons-Acts from an interest in the polis and empire, and 1 Thessalonians in individual bodies and tribe. These and other resonances and divergences are discussed not in the context of progressive narratives-such as early to late, or anti-imperial to imperial-but as genre-specific rhetorical and political tactics that mark out and thus contribute to the production of the "in Christ" communities as out and visible Christian spaces.

For many scholars, Paul is viewed as having freely chosen to engage in manual labour to safeguard his freedom as an apostle of Christ. Using 1 Cor 9:1-18 as the interpretative key, Paul is seen as refusing the material support offered to him by the Corinthian congregation, financial support that was rightfully his given Paul’s accepted status as an apostle. Such an interpretation, however, fails to take into account the fact that 1 Cor 9:1-18 is a problematic text in that it is unable to explain other texts in the Pauline corpus where manual labour is portrayed as a scenario of shame and dishonour. I will demonstrate that manual labourers in an ancient Mediterranean context were deemed slavish and contemptible. The life of a manual labourer was analogous to a theatre of shame, a picture that is confirmed by Paul himself. Thus, Paul’s descriptions of the context and implications of his manual labour suggest that he was not as self-evidently an apostle as he appears to contend in 1 Cor 9:1-18.

Using a handwritten page found among Toland’s papers, this study first traces the genesis of Toland’s Nazarenus from this fragment through the discovery of the Gospel of Barnabas and the recently recovered French version until the final English publication in 1718. This evolution is then interfaced with Toland’s theological training and lively intellectual, literary, and political career to identify the main intended purpose of Nazarenus as the promotion of religious toleration (the uncovering and dismissal of prejudices). Finally, the lasting historical and theological significance of Nazarenus for early Christian studies is located in its identification of the first Christians as Jewish Christians = Ebionites = Nazoraeans and thus as the first heretics, a revolutionary insight that can be said to initiate modern New Testament studies–one that F. C. Baur regained well over a century later.

The early days of Barack Obama’s presidency have been partially characterized by events associated with the passage of Proposition 8 in California. From Jack Black’s role as Jesus in "Prop 8: The Musical" to the choice of Rick Warren to offer a prayer at Obama’s inauguration, the issue of same-sex marriage and its relationship to the biblical text has been an important one in recent days. Communities on both sides of this contentious issue, particularly Christian communities, have claimed that the biblical texts support their positions, yet neither side has demonstrated a close reading of the text. What is made available through dissemination on YouTube, Facebook, and in various news media is largely a superficial use of “the Bible” which primarily appeals to preconceived opinions. This paper will explore the use of biblical texts in the arguments for and against Proposition 8, as well as the various reactions of Christian communities to the passage of the bill. It will undertake an exegetical exploration of those texts that are simultaneously claimed as supporting texts by those on both sides of the issue. This paper will ultimately argue that the use of the Bible in the political debate over Proposition 8 has largely followed a preconceived pattern rather than admitting the ambiguity of the biblical texts on the issues of both sexuality and marriage. It will further argue that recapturing a sense of ambiguity in the interpretation of these biblical texts would be beneficial not only to communities on both sides of this debate but also to the politics of marriage and the wider questions surrounding gender, sexuality, and the Bible.

Hailed by Bruce Metzger as the scholar who 'was most successful in drawing British preference away from the Textus Receptus', Tregelles is still one of the very few people who produced a complete GNT with full apparatus (published 1857-79). Interestingly, a lot can be known about the actual practical stages Tregelles went through in the whole process from collation to actual publication. Tregelles published a thorough account of his method, of his ideas, and of his knowledge of the history of textual criticism. Besides, a good many of his notebooks have been preserved in a Cambridge college library. Drawing on all these resources a good reconstruction can be made of the efforts of this man who may have influenced his good friend Hort much more than previously recognized.

No longer scholars expect valentinian texts to advocate indifference to ethics, libertinian or radically ascetic stereotyped positions. On the part of the Gospel of Truth the discussions on the paraenesis on page 32-33 has highlighted the use of wide spread Jewish and Christian ethical jargon. However, as page 33 of the Gospel of Truth is a philologically very difficult text the analysis of the ethical message has been seriously hampered in earlier scholarly works. I propose a new solution to these problems and claim that the Gospel of Truth exhorts an ethic that does not relate itself to any cosmic order. In this manner the Gospel of Truth represents an ethical perspective that is a consequence of a sharply anticosmic worldview. To violate or to follow cosmic laws is equally bad as both these attitudes relate to a fallen system, which is based on punishment that causes fear. The receivers of knowledge instead ought to follow the will of the Father of truth. The practical behaviour may or may not coincide with a cosmic code of conduct, but this is irrelevant for those who pertain to the knowledge of the Father. On this basis I construe a social setting for the text, and discuss in what way this effects the interpretation of the general message of the Gospel of Truth.

Recent scholarship on the Sayings Gospel Q posits that Q was composed according to the literary conventions, style, rhetoric and (at least in part) content of wisdom literature. The Q community was very much interested in Wisdom traditions. The construal of a “sapiential Q,” however, has sometimes been developed by dichotomizing wisdom and apocalyptic literature. As a result, the “sapiential layer” of Q has been used to support the claim that Jesus was a traveling “Cynic sage” and that the Jesus tradition was originally “sapiential” in nature and only secondarily apocalyptic. Needless to say, there are problems with this particular dichotomy. As is well known, wisdom and apocalyptic motifs are not mutually exclusive in ancient biblical literature. Many ancient texts clearly mix and conflate the two genres. This paper will argue not only that the Sayings Gospel Q is ambiguously located within and between these somewhat artificial categories, but that the dichotomy itself is representative of a complex binary system that betrays ideological interests in contemporary biblical scholarship on Christian origins.

This paper takes as its starting point the early fifth-century ivory known as the Reidersche Panel (Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Münich), with its unusual representation of a wingless angel whom the women encounter at the empty tomb. It compares this image with other possible examples of wingless angels at the tomb (notably a fifth-century ivory diptych now in Milan) to explore whether or not we should interpret this figure as an angel, a ‘young man’ (Mk 16.5) or the risen Christ. The exegetical implications of this ambiguity in the visual image will be analysed in relation to relevant Gospel texts.

The sentence in Hebrews 4:3 presents some interesting features concerning the translation. First, the usage and meaning of the two conjunctions ga,r and kai,toi in this verse, where five conjunctions appear, require an explanation. Some English versions (NIV, NJB) and Korean translations do not interpret the first conjunction as indicating a causal sense. It is also noteworthy that the second conjunction may mean either ‘although’ or ‘and yet’ and the punctuation problem emerges with the meaning ‘and yet’- period (NIV, NIB; cf. Luther’s German Version) or comma (NAB). Second, the translation of the participial phrase oi` pisteu,santej also draws our attention. While most English versions translate the phrase as ‘who have believed’, other versions like NJB and NLT understand it as ‘who have faith’ or ‘who believe’ (cf. Luther’s German Bible). The peculiarity of the Greek verb ‘believe’ needs to be investigated. Finally, the function of the present tense for the verb e;rcomai has to be decided in this verse, since the present tense may point to future as well as present action. This study will demonstrate that the careful look at grammatical features as well as translation theories is even today necessary to translate the Bible appropriately.

Why is it that circumcision of the male Galatian Jesus followers makes a “good showing in the flesh” - why does it ward off persecution, and by whom (Gal 6:12)? Based on a close textual and inter-textual/historical reading of Paul’s letter this old question at the core of Pauline justification theology will be re-illuminated through the looking-glass of an ancient sculpture. The “Dying Galatian” models and molds the official perception of Galatians/Gauls throughout the Hellenistic and Roman-imperial eras, including the implied rules of conduct for their first-century C.E. descendants. His image points to the imperial semiotics of law and lawlessness as a hermeneutic key to the circumcision controversy in Paul's Galatia. Paul’s community building appears as an iconoclastic intervention into a complex field of conflicting and synergistic demands of both Roman nomos and Jewish Torah. The first commandment and biblical monotheism interferes with the requirements of Roman religion and order, as Paul’s uncircumcised Galatians are suspected to give to God what belongs to Caesar.

Both First Peter and James speak about the link between endurance and salvation, and yet in deference to the Pauline epistles, rarely is this mentioned except as an aside in most theological writings. Their witness is seen as “secondary” in most systematic work. These two epistles, however, have a remarkable amount of overlap, even simply in their first chapters, regarding the theme of endurance and its central importance for salvation. In 1 Peter 1:6-9, the author concedes that his audience will “have to suffer grief” but assures them that they “are receiving the goal of faith, the salvation of your souls.” Trials, he states, have come so that faith might be “proved.” James encourages joy in the “testing” of faith that believers might become “mature and complete” (1:3-5). Those who persevere will “receive the crown which is life” (1:12). For both authors the reality of a “variety of trials” (1 Pet 1:6; Jas 1:2) leads to calls for endurance for salvation. Endurance relates to “holding fast” to the faith despite trials but also indicates obedience in holiness. 1 Peter 1:14-15 warns his readers not to conform to their sinful “desires” but rather reminds them of God’s holiness and subsequent commands to “be holy.” He describes their redemption (1:17-21) and from this reminds them of the reality of their purification (1:22) and calls them to restore their purity (2:1). Likewise James warns his audience against their desires as the path to death. Instead, he reminds them again of their redemption (1:17-18) as a result of which they should purify themselves (1:21) and seek to worship God in purity and service (1:27). The sheer congruence of vocabulary and ideas within the introductory chapter of each text validates a comparison of their theologies of endurance for salvation.

Scholars have classically characterized the interpretation of the Song of Songs in Tannaitic Midrash as an allegorical description of God’s relationship with Israel. Tannaitic interpretations of the Song do embrace a general hermeneutical horizon in which the rabbis understand the Song’s “plain sense” as referring to God’s relationship with Israel. The Tannaim did not, however, search for hidden and esoteric meanings behind the language of the Song of Songs. Rather, the Tannaim read the language of the Song as corresponding to events in Israel’s history. As I will show in this paper, this hermeneutical approach is not specifically allegorical, but should, as I will argue, be more properly characterized as typological. This idealized and typological interpretation enabled the early sages to use the language of the Song to give voice to their construction of the ideal relationship between Israel and her God as one marked by affective covenantal love expressed through the mitzvot, or commandments. In this typological reading of history, the Song provides the language to convey an important rabbinic theological idea, to wit, that despite the catastrophes of 70 C.E. and perhaps 135 C.E., God still loves Israel in a surpassing way and will right the catastrophe in his own time.

The Early Christian writings that later became the New Testament form part of the reception history of the Jewish scriptures. Their writers not only draw on theological concepts and imageries from the Jewish scriptures, they also frequently cite them as prove texts in order to root their own religious experience and theological narratives firmly within the tradition mediated through these scriptures. In so doing New Testament writers are also early witnesses to text forms of the Jewish scriptures in their Greek version, the Septuagint, as the scholarly consensus has it. Although the Septuagint is in parts a version that goes back to the 3rd c. BCE, substantial manuscript evidence for it dates from the 4th c. CE onwards, when its textual transmission has become part of the tradition of the Christian Greek Bible. Hence, witnesses from the first c. CE, such as the New Testament citations, offer a rare glimpse into early phases of the Septuagint’s textual history. At the same time, however, it has to be acknowledged, that the earliest substantial manuscript witnesses for the New Testament writings do not carry the time stamp of their presumptive first century literary origin. They similarly date from the 3rd/4th centuries CE onwards. In other words: Septuagint and New Testament writings travelled for at least 200 years within the same Christian environments before we can pin down the first physical reminder of one of these precious citations of the former in the latter. The fourth century CE then sees the appearance of some of the most ambitious book productions in the history before the invention of printing, namely the three and four column complete Bibles, Codices Vaticanus and Sinaiticus respectively as well as the two column Bible of the 5th century Codex Alexandrinus. With these gorgeous manuscripts we have the first examples of books that encompass both parts of the Christian Bible, i.e. the LXX (= Christian Old Testament) and the New Testament in one physical entity. As such, these manuscripts are of unique value to study the interaction (or lack thereof) between the New Testament citation and its Septuagint source text while being mediated in tandem. With the many corrections from the scriptorium and subsequent generations that are found especially in Codex Sinaiticus we have additional information for assessing the ongoing interaction between both texts (LXX and NT) as they are used and studied throughout the centuries. Hence, the title “Old and New” not only pertains to the two parts of the Christian Bible, but to the subsequent generations of correctors as well.

What is Asian-North American hermeneutics? We are still in the process of further delineating the characteristics of this interpretive enterprise rooted in our lives and, indeed, in our very identities. In this paper, I examine the pericope Mk. 2:23-28 (Plucking Grain on the Sabbath) in tandem with –what I shall call– l’Affaire Peter Phan with the aim of illustrating several important points regarding what Asian-North American hermeneutics is and, conversely, what it is not, how it is done and, likewise, how it is not done. Georgetown University’s Peter Phan has become a figure of prominence in both Asian and Asian-North American theological circles for his many pioneering efforts to advance a theology rooted in Asian and Asian-North American experience. By “l’Affaire Peter Phan,” I refer to his 2004 book - Being Religious Interreligiously and the reaction that the work elicited from the Roman Catholic hierarchy in 2007 in which it warned that Phan’s cutting-edge theological reflection – which is representative of general trends in Asian and Asian-North American theological efforts – “could easily confuse or mislead the faithful.” Both Mark’s story and l’Affaire Peter Phan show that an interpretive enterprise rooted in different Asian / Asian-North American contexts is characterized by: a consistent effort to dialogue with and valorize one’s tradition as well as a sharp attention to the exigencies of particular human situations (whether they be Jesus’ or Phan’s) in order to discover how current human context can move the tradition forward and make it constantly relevant. Besides, in the case of a faith-inspired reflection, Asian/-North American hermeneutics is also marked by a sharp sense that treats the encounter of a religious tradition with the exigencies of human context as a venerable locus revelationis (place of revelation) by which a present day believer continues to discern the divine voice speaking through “signs of the times.” Conversely, Mark’s story and l’Affaire Peter Phan also portray the antithesis of Asian/-North American hermeneutics – one characterized by –what one may express as–an effort to defend a tradition that is viewed as monolithic, sacrosanct and therefore unchangeable. One wonders though whether such an enterprise is founded on a genuine and passionate quest for truth or merely an effort to uphold and shore-up one’s traditional identity in order to shield it from the buffets of change. It is hoped that this study would contribute to our ongoing effort to unpack the what and the how of Asian / Asian-North American hermeneutics.

Apocalypse as a literary genre is defined primarily in terms of a particular type of prophetic revelation, often attributed pseudonymously to an ancient authoritative figure, to whom the future is unveiled during an otherworldly journey, etc. Apocalypticism, by extension, is defined in terms of certain surface ideas intrinsic to the genre: inasmuch as apocalyptic (unlike classical) prophecy typically predicts the distant future, history is predetermined, fixed for all time like the text that serves as its vehicle; since the apocalyptic text is unsealed at a crucial juncture in the final age, history is thought to comprise a series of distinct periods; but then history must be inscribed with divine mysteries, whence the rise of cosmological speculation; etc. This standard account of apocalypticism needs to be supplemented by an “archaeology of knowledge.” For its rise within Second Temple Judaism attests to an epistemic break in the history of thought. It is useful to think of this historical development as a succession of three discursive formations: myth, history, apocalypticism. If myth, following Eliade, conceives of the cosmos as a static system, an eternal and necessary structure (whence the notion of cyclical time), history redefines the world as a temporal realm of contingent events (whence the notion of linear time). The episteme of apocalypticism collapses myth and history into a radically new conception of reality. Out of this intersection of myth and history derive the various surface ideas of apocalypticism: history is no longer contingent but necessary (predetermined); the structure of the cosmos is now projected onto the linear sequence of historical periods; etc. Viewed in this light, the doctrine of the Incarnation, pertaining to that Jewish apocalyptic sect now known as early Christianity, is merely the logical outcome of the apocalyptic episteme — Logos (eternal, necessary) becomes Flesh (temporal, contingent). One might characterize apocalypticism, then, as the return of myth in historicized form — like the beast John sees rising out of the sea, now a political rather than primordial force.

This paper argues that John 7.15 accurately reflects the Historical Jesus, insofar as it demonstrates the impact he had on his contemporaries. After establishing that the issue of whether Jesus “knew letters” is a neglected but important foundation for larger images of Jesus as a first-century Jewish teacher, I will turn my attention to the claim of John 7.15, the only canonical Jesus tradition that addresses the matter explicitly, discussing previous interpretations of the Jews’ question “How does this man know letters when he has never learned/been taught?” Finally, I will argue that the most plausible explanation for why Jesus was remembered by the early church simultaneously as a member of the literate elite and as a member of the non-literate non-elite is that he was able to confuse his contemporaries regarding this matter, as John 7.15 claims.

The Exodus creed (34:6-7) captures the heart of Israel's testimony of YHWH, who he is and what he does. Joel and Jonah both make use of a particular form of this creed with significant textual parallels to indicate that they are intertextually related. The question of priority has received abundant support on either side of the table, begging the question as to whether the final form of the text requires the reader to choose one text as temporally or even conceptually prior. If the text invites the reader to determine for himself the direction of textual dependency, this invitation allows the reader to discover meaning in light of his own particular encounter with the texts.

Recent years have seen an increasing interest in metaphor among biblical scholars, partly in response to new theories offered in the last few decades by linguists, philosophers, and even scientists. While biblical scholars have effectively mined these theories for helpful terminology and frameworks for understanding how metaphors signify, such theories have failed to provide a clear hermeneutic of metaphor. Thus this paper will advocate an approach to metaphor that draws primarily on the insights of Janet Soskice, Paul Ricoeur, and George Lakoff and Mark Johnson and then suggest a hermeneutic that incorporates the contributions of speech-act theory. Following Ricoeur, since metaphor creates a world and offers a means of “seeing as,” there is a certain degree of openness in a metaphor, allowing for the continual discovery of new connections, based largely on the reader’s experience. Yet metaphor is also a tool employed by authors as a means of communicating something, and thus the ethical reader should seek to understand what the author is conveying through it. Attending to the illocutionary force of the speech act and the literary context both focuses and circumscribes legitimate interpretation of the metaphor. The illocutionary force and contextual cues draw the reader’s attention to the most important aspects of the metaphor for the author’s rhetorical argument. They also critique the metaphorical world created in the mind of the reader wherever there is dissonance between that world and the details of the text. Finally, this paper will apply this hermeneutic to a test case—the metaphor of Israel as YHWH’s children (banim) in Isaiah 1:2-4; 30:1-9; 43:6; 45:11; and 63:8.

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The term "hevel" expresses the governing motif of the book of Ecclesiastes. Many scholars consider it to be a Grecism. For example, in 1912, Ludwig Levy associated Qoheleth’s hevel with the Greek term "tufos." Rainer Braun points out that the term "tufos" occurs in Greek literature of popular philosophy, such as skepticism and Stoicism, and argues that Qoheleth adopted this term from the contemporary Greek philosophers. This explanation seems to have convinced scholars such as Hengel and Perdue. This paper proposes that we can find its counterpart in ancient Mesopotamia. Cuneiform literature contains not only the idea of hevel, but also a conventional expression equivalent to "hakkol hevel." A prime example is found in the relatively well-attested Sumerian composition Nignam nukal, which begins with the phrase “Everything is worthless” (níg-nam nu-kal). Did Qoheleth borrow the idea of "hevel" from Greece or Mesopotamia? The syntactical structure of "hakkol hevel" is closer to “níg-nam nu-kal” than to “tufos.” Moreover, the Greek passages containing tufos show few additional similarities to those containing hevel, but all the extant Nignam nukal texts include at least one loan translation (bêt ‘ôlamô, Eccl 12:5 < é da-rí-ka-ni, Nignam nukal C:5; D:5) and a number of additional parallel themes found in Ecclesiastes, such as carpe diem, human limits, inevitable death, danger of money, etc. Our examination increases the possibility that Qoheleth’s expression "hakkol hevel" could have been modeled on the Mesopotamian equivalent “níg-nam nu-kal,” rather than the Greek word “tufos.”

Jonah 4:4 contains an infinitive absolute form hyt.b that is crucial to the interpretation of the narrative. Three options for understanding its function have been offered by ancient and modern translations as well as traditional grammars: a subject, a predicate (either nominal or verbal), and an adverb. The first option cannot be supported linguistically. Instead, most of the modern translations take the second option and render hyt.b as a predicate. For example, the New Revised Standard Version renders Yahweh’s question in v. 4 as “Is it right for you to be angry?” According to the translations of this type, Yahweh as the speaker confronts Jonah by asking him about the appropriateness of his anger. However, traditional grammarians take the function of hyt.b as an adverb that modifies the meaning of the verb, suggesting its translation as one of the degree adverbs. In this vein, the New JPS translation renders Yahweh’s question as “Are you that deeply grieved?” Linguistic considerations also support the latter option. In this translation, Yahweh is simply asking Jonah if he is deeply angry. No hint of confrontation can be seen. Rather, Yahweh shows sympathy to Jonah’s feeling after the prophecy that he proclaimed against Nineveh has not come true. This line of understanding opens up a possibility to interpret Yahweh’s question in Jonah 4:4 not as a confrontation but as an expression of his consolation and compassion toward his prophet

The Syriac vocalization system developed over times in a number of stages, from partial matres lectionis to a fully fledged system using fuller matres lectionis, diacritical points, and non-linear symbols, with each subsystem incorporating its predecessors. The result is a multi-tiered system that continues to be used until our modern times, especially in liturgical texts. This paper outlines this historical development, and sheds some light on the modern reception of this vocalization tradition post Segal's treatment of the subject.

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Recent scholarship on spatial issues in the context of late antique rabbinic culture has yielded significant insights into the role of architecture in rabbinic exegesis. One of the rabbinic spaces, which has not received much attention, is the Roman banquet hall of the triclinium. Although the term traqlin or triqlina has become somewhat generic in rabbinic literature, it more often than not designates a royal hall as well as the typical domestic room, in which the couches for reclining are arranged in a Pi-shape setting. The sages are frequently depicted in the literature as reclining and dining in triclinia, and one story from Leviticus Rabbah 16:2 specifically mentions Torah study in such a hall. The link made in Leviticus Rabbah between triclinia study and the notion of afterlife or longevity appears also in sources such as PT Hagiga 77a, which refers to a heavenly triclinium awaiting the righteous Torah scholars in the World to Come. Songs Rabbah 6:2 places the studying scholars under the Tree of Life, thus transforming the symbol of the Torah as a life giving entity into a an actual space. By unfolding the symbolism and iconography of life and death strongly associated with the triclinium in the Graeco-Roman culture, this paper seeks to illuminate the way in which the structure and traditions of this hall shaped particular instances of rabbinic biblical interpretation. Through the analysis of a few triclinia excavated in recent years in the Galilee, this paper will furthermore offer a theoretical consideration of the relationship between midrash and architecture.

This paper begins by situating the parable of Shepherd (Q 15:4-7 | GThom 107) in the context of pastoral practices as known from contemporary Graeco-Egyptian papyri, and then tracks the ways the polyvalent image of the shepherd was transformed and adapted in the course of various synoptic and Thomasine performances. The paper pays attention to various social and economic registers which the parable presupposed and to which it appealed.

Two artistic traditions are compared for the way in which they have translated the story of Esther into visual imagery, and the implications this had for their respective statements about the role of women in society. The art of selected 17th century Dutch Masters interpreting scenes from the book of Esther is compared with a series of mosaics by postmodern, feminist artist Lillian Broca. Of particular interest is the contrast between "circumspective" and "introspective" readings of the central character, which move the figure from national heroine to role model in these respective interpretations.

The Ascension of Isaiah is an important text because it is our earliest non-canonical Christian apocalypse. I date in the decade 110-120 CE, so that its author potentially knows earlier Christian literature, although he continues to rely on the oral tradition that surfaces also in Matthew's Gospel. The text sheds light on the development of early Christian mysticism in the period roughly between the last of the New Testament documents and the rise of the Gnostic literature. My paper will have the following sections: 1. Brief introduction to the text; its date and content 2. A survey of the development of Jewish throne-mysticism in the Ascension of Isaiah 3. A survey of the probable reworking of earlier christological motifs there 4. An investigation of the mystical significance of the seven-storied cosmology 5. An investigation into the use of scripture, both Jewish and Christian writings, in the formation of the work's mystical perspective.

I will briefly summarize and review the four exciting papers which were presented at the international SBL meeting in Rome this summer. They were: Adrian Schenker: Priority of 1 Esdras in Comparison with MT Ezra-Nehemiah; Paul Harvey: First Esdras: Style and Semantics in Hellenistic Greek Context; Bob Becking: The Story of the Three Youths and the Composition of First Esdras; and Zipora Talshir: Ancient Composition Patterns Mirrored in First Esdras.

For the past decade, biblical scholars have appropriated some of Russian literary scholar and philosopher Mikhail Bakhtin’s concepts, with fruitful results. In particular, Bakhtin’s understanding of carnival, dialogical truth, and the unfinalizability of human discourse have been applied to a wide range of biblical texts. What has received less attention is Bakhtin’s early essay, “Author and Hero in Aesthetic Activity,” a work that has significant implications for literary characterization of biblical characters. This paper will argue that Bakhtin’s challenge to literary criticism is that characterization is something far richer and deeper than the taxonomies into which we put characters. The aesthetic activity Bakhtin describes and advocates is one that enriches both the character and the one outside the character, such that both are changed in the encounter. This type of aesthetic activity occurs in the best literary characterization, as well as in real life.

The contribution of exegetes to the preparation of a critical text of John is vital. In the first of what is planned as a series of annual presentations, Dr Koester will examine a couple of passages where internal factors play a particularly significant role in selecting the text.

In recent years, the concept of social or cultural memory has become a significant subject in biblical studies, and biblical scholars like Joseph Blenkinsopp, Marc Brettler, Ronald Hendel, Mark Smith and, most recently, Philip Davies have shown that the Hebrew Bible contains both the collective memory and amnesia of ancient Israel. This paper challenges a too simplistic equation of cultural memory with fictitious or invented history and discusses the theoretical and methodological challenges of the modern concept of cultural memory in relation to ancient Israelite historiography. The sociological analysis of the Biblical text’s lieux de mémoire cannot be isolated from the heuristic and epistemological discussion on whether the text refers to a reality outside itself or must be understood as a fictitious, non-referential attempt to express and reshape a certain interpretive community’s collective understanding of the past. A proper understanding of the intersection between cultural memory and historiography in the Biblical text can only be achieved, it is argued, when the concepts of truth and history responsible for the literary configuration of memory, history, ideology etc. in the Biblical text are taken into consideration.

John the Little, one of the fourth-century founders of the monastic settlements at Scetis, is among the most famous of the Egyptian desert fathers. While the earliest sources about John come from the collections of the Apophthegmata Patrum, he is also the subject of several panegyric-like Vitae from the seventh century and beyond that are extant in Coptic, Arabic, and Syriac. According to these Vitae, John was sent from Egypt to Mesopotamia by the Patriarch Theophilus in order to obtain the relics of the three youths from the fiery furnace of Daniel 3 – Ananias, Azarias, and Mishael. While in Mesopotamia, the story goes, John heard the three youths speaking to him directly. Unfortunately for Theophilus and his Alexandrian building projects, the youths were unwilling to let John take their bones back to Egypt, but they promised to dwell spiritually in the shrine through signs and wonders, “as long as the Patriarch lives and also through the period of the two other patriarchs who will succeed him.” Interestingly, the Vitae note that the youths prophesied that they would not bless the shrine after those three patriarchs, “because after them, a wicked and shadowy error will reign over the earth” – a not-so-subtle anti-Chalcedonian jab. In this paper, I examine the use of the book of Daniel in the Coptic and Syriac versions of John’s Vita and discuss significant differences between the two accounts. Using recent theories of collective and cultural memory, I analyze the hermeneutical strategies employed by these two works of hagiography and argue that their unique re-uses of biblical literature in textually memorializing John the Little served not only to preserve the biblical past, but also to re-imagine it within the socially specific framework of late antique and early medieval Egyptian monasticism.

Scholars of Biblical Hebrew (BH) have long been puzzled by the nearly one hundred ostensible instances of the cohortative form (1cs ?eqt?lâ / 1cp niqt?lâ) that conform neither to the normative volitive functions evidenced elsewhere in BH, nor to the cognate Northwest Semitic (yaqtula) paradigm extending at least as far back as the 14th Century BCE Amarna Letters. The vague consensus is that these BH "pseudo-cohortatives" (Waltke and O'Connor 1990, 576) constitute an increasingly frequent—albeit essentially optional—indicative divergence from the paradigm's volitive core. But a close morphosyntactic analysis of such forms instead reveals a consistent functional value signifying centrifugal (a.k.a., itive, andative) orientation of the verbal action with respect to the deictic center (usually the speaker/agent) of the given syntagm. The origin of this function, furthermore, is traceable to the linguistic process of grammaticalization, whereby the most frequently attested BH cohortative form constructed upon the motion lexeme hlk ("to go") underwent reanalysis, erosion, and reapplication as a centrifugal morpheme.

Near the beginning of the 20th century, R. H. Charles laid particular emphasis upon the structural value of two Greek clauses for the organization of the visionary content of the book of Revelation. Charles also affirmed the value of their linguistic equivalents for the organization of visionary content within apocalyptic literature. These two visionary literary devices are kai eidon (“and I saw”) and meta tauta eidon (“after these things I saw”), and their variations. Numerous commentators subsequent to Charles have variously applied his insights to the book of Revelation, as well as to other apocalypses, such as the Animal Apocalypse (Isaac) and 4 Ezra (Stone). However, no commentators, not even Charles himself, consistently use the textual occurrences of the two visionary literary devices to demarcate a structure for the entire content of any apocalyptic visionary texts. In my article (NovT 42/2 [2000]) on the structure of the book of Revelation, I also suggest structural outlines for the Animal Apocalypse (1 Enoch 85–90), 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch in light of the two visionary literary devices. My presentation will expand upon those insights specifically as they relate to the visionary content of 4 Ezra (“visions” four, five, and six). With respect to the pivotal fourth “vision” (9:26–10:59), contra Michael Stone (HTR, 2003), one can then affirm a waking vision (9:38 –10:59) prior to the climactic transformation of the woman into a city (10:25-28). The eagle “vision” (10:60–12:51) also gains interpretive clarity. Although Stone (Hermeneia) acknowledges that the repetitive use of the two visionary literary devices is a “notable structural feature” of 11:1–12:3a, he uses thematic indicators instead. These are, in fact, inconsistent with the threefold progression in the eagle’s description. Occurrences of the clause “after this I looked and behold” do, however, mirror the eagle’s descriptive progression.

Since scholarship on and interest in Nag Hammadi has had a deep and abiding relationship to orientalist discourses, affective responses to Nag Hammadi have thus echoed some feelings and desires also linked to orientalism: alienation/estrangement, mystery, fascination, romance, fear, and lust. Indeed the terms “Nag Hammadi” and “gnosticism,” not to mention the texts associated with them, are instant references to a kind of dusty and dangerous ancient ambiance – they even add sex appeal to movies, novels and advertisements, for example. How do these affective responses to Nag Hammadi support and maintain inverse feelings around the Bible, primarily its general sense of familiarity, paternalistic certitude and sanitized profundity? This is perhaps a question about how norms and authority feel, and how particularly canonical norms are reiterated through feelings of “rightness” and “wrongness” (inevitably dense with other feelings such as shame, gratification, anxiety and loss). This condensation of certain feelings around norms and their transgression are a product of, but also help produce, the complex imaginary around authorized objects, ideas, bodies, texts and their others. I will link the history of Nag Hammadi scholarship with some popular cultural references to and uses of Nag Hammadi texts (a Prada ad directed by Jordan and Ridley Scott, The Da Vinci Code, National Geographic and History Channel television programs). I will then use the recent work of Sara Ahmed, Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, and Rosemary Hennessy on affect to discuss the ways that the jar arises less out of the Egyptian desert than out of a fusion of capitalist, orientalist and orthodox desires, and make some suggestions about how these structural ideologies reinforce one another at the level of affect whenever the story of the Nag Hammadi jar is recited, evoked or imaged in different ways. Finally I will propose what these cultural affective investments might mean for reading and re-reading both the Bible and Nag Hammadi literature.

Wettstein’s edition of the Greek New Testament (2 vols., 1751-1752) is a landmark of New Testament textual criticism. Unknown to most present-day scholars, and hitherto unexplored, are Wettstein’s papers, preserved for posterity by the Remonstrant Church, and nowadays kept in the library of the University of Amsterdam. Though some have unfortunately been lost, the papers that remain still give us some surprising and instructive insights into the working conditions of a textual critic in the 18th century, his scholarly circle, and the making of his landmark edition.

Several passages in the Oracula Sibyllina focus on Creator and Creation. It is just natural that, among other elements, animals play a significant role in these contexts. According to the complex history or the Or.Sib. and its individual books there are certain lines of differences or even development in the depiction of Creator and Creation. This paper focuses on books three and eight and tries to shed light on the specific role animals play in the various contexts. Other relevant passages of the Or.Sib. will be addressed as reference texts to provide profound insights into the world of a fascinating collection of pseudo-oracles.

This paper takes up the making of the shrine of Our Lady of Prompt Succor in New Orleans by Mother St. Michel of the French Ursuline nuns in the early 19th century as the (re)construction of a postbiblical saint. The golden statue of the crowned Virgin Mary holding the Crowned Infant Christ was procured from Paris and now resides on the campus of Ursuline Academy on State Street in New Orleans. Its veneration bears a history of the miraculous aversion of disaster in the case of fire, war, and hurricanes. In fact, the Archdiocese of New Orleans has established the practice of each parish praying to OLPS at the start of hurricane season each year for the safety of the citizens of New Orleans. She is now the patron saint of the City of New Orleans and the State of Louisiana. In August 2005, both at the shrine and around New Orleans fervent prayers for safety were directed to OLPS. In the midst of the wreckage of Katrina and the following flood, prayers continue to be offered to hasten city’s recovery (prompt succor). The paper engages G. Spivak and other feminist and postcolonial theorists to explore how hopes and fears about disaster, order, safety, and danger are powerfully held and tensely negotiated within the history and veneration of this saint in New Orleans

In the writings of early Christian theologians appear several geographical and onomastic details from Jubilees, a text designated by early Christians as “apocryphal.” This appellation should not be read as a pejorative dismissal of its authority, as modern use of the term implies. Rather, apocryphal for early Christianity meant simply that—hidden, not non-canonical. The existence of authoritative hidden books was prevalent in early Christianity, continuing earlier Jewish traditions. The Book of the Watchers might be called a proto-apocryphal text. Although fated to remain “hidden and ignored,” the author did not self-consciously construct the text as a source of hidden wisdom. By the first century CE, authors used the concept of apocrypha self-consciously. 4 Ezra described the restoration of twenty-four public books, plus seventy others designated only for “the wise among your people.” Josephus mentioned the Essenes possessing secret books, only for the eyes of members. The early Christians maintained this tradition of apocryphal books and Jubilees, appropriated into the Christian tradition, belonged to this category. Prompted by his predecessors, Epiphanius made prolific use of Jubilees in his Panarion, using no other non-canonical texts other than the Wisdom of Solomon to support his own arguments. However, by framing the text as a source of public not secret wisdom, Epiphanius rejected a brick that was part of the original building of Christianity—the acknowledged existence and approved use of authoritative hidden books, while Gnostics made this brick the cornerstone of their movement. In contrast to Gnostic texts’ claims of secrecy and elitism, Epiphanius’ Jubilees was a public text. On the religious market, Genesis alone could not compete with detailed Gnostic creation myths. As Gnostic secret texts embellished the Genesis creation story, Epiphanius quotes Jubilees as a viable public alternative to Gnostic details of creation and apocryphal became synonymous with non-canonical.

In the prolegomenon to his treatise On Statues, Porphyry asserts that the ability to “read” the invisible qualities of divinity in statues of the gods is, in contrast to those who are unable to differentiate between communicative media (e.g., stelae, books, etc.) and the materials upon which they are written, the mark of the learned human. Likely written by Porphyry for the benefit of his students, the tractate is a rapid-fire list of deities, their plastic forms and the allegorical interpretation thereof that elevates the divine image to a status previously enjoyed primarily by epic poetry. Although the work reflects previous ruminations on the place of images in the late antique religious program, it also grants to cultic statues a degree of authority previously unknown in philosophical circles and, simultaneously, “Platonizes” an interpretive practice more commonly associated with Stoic methods. In this paper, I wish to clarify the pedagogical aims and value of On Statues. For a man who, in a letter to his wife Marcella, appears to demonstrate little concern about the treatment of images (in contrast to his desire that correct opinions be held about the divine), Porphyry devotes no small amount of effort to the explication of their value and, indeed, of their authority. While the materiality of the images precludes them from being divine themselves, the divine is expressed through them for those capable of reading the signs. On Statues claims a place alongside other Porphyrean efforts, most notably On Philosophy from Oracles, that find philosophical truths in semeiotics. In the Peri agalmaton, the philosopher is able to satisfy multiple objectives – distinguishing his students from the uneducated, maintaining an important place for cult images in his school’s religio-philosophy, and granting a level of insight into the (Late Platonic) theological wisdom found in these images.

Approaches to the social identity of the community of address in 1 Peter have, to date, proved inconclusive with regard to the manner in which the community’s identity is rendered in relation to outsiders. This paper seeks to clarify the ongoing discussion by applying social identity theory to 1 Peter in order to discern the identity-forming processes evident in the textual data. I argue that, from an etic perspective, 1 Peter describes what is best classified as a subversion of typical social identity processes. This is particularly true with regard to the function of out-groups in the maintenance of positive social identity. Rather than promoting group identity formation through the negative evaluation of the ‘other,’ social identity theory helps identify within 1 Peter ‘in-group love’ (as opposed to ‘out-group derogation’) as the key identity-forming strategy. This position calls into question certain ‘sectarian’ interpretations of the Petrine community and has significant ramifications for understanding 1 Peter’s configuration of the ‘other.’

Judean pillar figurines have recently been interpreted as apotropaic objects, but these claims are regularly accompanied by any number of perhaps logical but unproven corollaries. Two of the most common correlating assumptions suggest the figurines were employed primarily by females to aid in child birth or rearing and that they were circulated by popular levels of society rather than by the official cult. Unfortunately, it has been almost impossible to locate any mention of the figurines in the Hebrew Bible, although this has done little to curb scholarly speculation. Further, most studies ignore the Iron II texts that do describe apotropaic rites using clay figurines—those of the Neo-Assyrian empire. The Neo-Assyrian ritual corpus provides ample evidence of clay figurines in exorcism and apotropaic ritual actions. This paper first summarizes several characteristics of these ritual texts and then compares those findings to the archaeological record in Iron II Judah. The results of the study challenge scholarly paradigms that presuppose “apotropaism” and “popular religion” to be synonymous. It likewise challenges any notion that the evils combated in apotropaic rituals, even when associated with childbirth or rearing, are the sole concern of females. Ultimately, regardless of the extent to which the textual corpus correlates with Judean practice, the texts can help establish a standard for the study of “apotropaism” as a category of analysis. More, that category resists strict dichotomization into official/popular or male/female and instead recognizes the ambiguous and cross-cutting nature of ritual action.

In this paper, I examine possible allusions to Psalms 8 and 107 in the book of Job as examples of Job’s “intensive inner-canonical dialogue with the Psalter” (Frevel 2007, 496–7). Building on the work of Christian Frevel, I suggest that instead of skeptically rejecting the message of Ps 8, Job’s parody of Ps 8:5 in Job 7:17-18 actually appeals to the psalm’s high view of man as a paradigm on the basis of which Job accuses God. Job 19:9-10 is similar. In 15:14-16 and 25:2-6, the friends reply with their own interpretation of the psalm, exploiting a tension within it to counter Job’s complaint. The author uses allusions to Ps 107 in an analogous way by having Eliphaz emphasize the retributive nature of the divine reversals of fortune it describes in 5:9-27. Job responds to Eliphaz with a parody of the psalm in 12:13-13:2, which again plays on a tension in the psalm by presenting the threatening and arbitrary aspects of divine sovereignty, and which may once again serve as an accusation against God on the basis of the psalm. Thus, by attending to the author’s dialogical approach to these tensions, we may better understand both Psalms 8 and 107 and the dispute between Job and his friends.

A generation ago, writing a commentary on Josephus was a simpler and less engaging task. Given the advances in interpreting texts over the past thirty years, the modern commentator must adopt a more intensive and subtle approach. Differences will be illustrated by examining sections of older commentaries on Book III of the Jewish War against the author's current commentary in preparation.

Essential terms in the western religious lexicon are often associated with or constructed out of items in the biblical lexicon. That this post-biblical development might impact our understanding of the biblical world—bringing theologically-laden concepts into our reading of the Bible—would seem to be obvious, but it is a fact the implications of which have not always been adequately noted. This paper will consider whether the concept of “repentance” is a useful category for the interpretation of the Hebrew Bible and its theology. It begins by asking if there is really a word for “repentance” in the Hebrew Bible. The biblical term š-w-b (as in the phrase "return to the LORD") is by no means an equivalent. It may at times refer to a “turn away from sin,” but this suggests only a cessation of sin, not the complex, mental process of its abandonment that the “repentance” encapsulates. The verbal root only comes to signify “repent” among the Bible’s early readers in the post-biblical period. Next, the paper considers whether fasting, prayer (including so-called “penitential prayers”), and confession are penitential rites in ancient Israel. Actually, they serve broadly-speaking to communicate states of affliction and destitution, rather than contrition. Turning to the institution of prophecy, the prophets should not be seen, as they come to be, as preachers of repentance. They are much more concerned with establishing and conveying the state of Israel’s condition and its causes than with urging the nation to secure a better outcome through moral-religious amendment. The paper will conclude by laying out the theological alternatives suggested by repentance’s absence in the Hebrew Bible and by briefly considering the case of “humility” as an additional instance of the western religious lexicon impacting biblical interpretation.

In Heb 11:8-16, the author commends Abraham for his faith, citing the example of Abraham’s setting out from his home country to an unknown land in obedience to the command of God. The author notes that Abraham settled for a time in the land that had been given him in the promise of God, but that he did so as a stranger and alien upon the earth (v. 9). The focus of the author is not on Abraham or his posterity receiving the promised land, but is rather on an eschatological interpretation of the promised homeland that is aimed at exhorting the readers of the letter-sermon to keep their eyes fixed on the eternal reward of perseverance. Thus the example of Abraham is but one of many in ch. 11 that urges the readers to look beyond their present circumstances to the eschatological promise of eternal life. Frequently, however, this passage among others is used to justify an escapist eschatology that minimizes attention on the present order and its afflictions in favor of a rather singular focus on the world to come. If indeed believers are strangers and foreigners upon the earth, living as those just passing through, with eyes fixed on the eternal city God has prepared for them, then believers may be justified to pay little attention to a homeland not their own. This paper will attempt to put the passage into proper perspective by placing its teaching into the larger context of what the NT (Hebrews included) has to say about the place of creation in God’s redemptive scheme. The conclusion will affirm the integrity of Heb 11:8-16 within its own rhetorical context while maintaining the larger biblical picture of the believer’s responsibility to care for creation in light of its eschatological redemption.

Isaiah 49.14-21 is a dialogue between Zion and YHWH about forgetfulness. Zion complains that YHWH has forgotten her, and YHWH reassures her. It is the prophet who expresses his own despair and desire for comfort through the dialogue, his own desire for maternal solicitude. In that respect it is parallel to the first half of the chapter, which begins with the prophet’s sense of exhaustion and abandonment and ends with YHWH’s comfort (49.13), recalling the programmatic opening of Deutero-Isaiah in 40.1. However, as the dialogue continues, the motif of forgetfulness is transferred from YHWH to Zion. YHWH’s apparently rhetorical question, “Can a woman forget her infant?” exposes a different ground of anxiety: not only may YHWH forget, but home is strange to us. The passage is haunted by the voices of lost children and their mother’s grief. It is a fantasy in which the bereaved mother experiences the return of her children, but also a sense of dissonance, since she does not know how they came back to her or who gave birth to them. She cannot acknowledge her own maternity or erase the intervening catastrophe. At the same time, the mother’s fantasy is only heard through the voice of one of the children, representing and speaking for them all. It is thus the children who imagine their mother mourning for them. The dead mother, whose walls remain only in YHWH’s memory, returns to comfort the dead children and restore them to life. The prophet takes on the subject position of YHWH, imagining mother Zion listening to the voices of her children, crowded in her womb, one of whom is himself. But, as the author of the fantasy and in his persona as YHWH, he is also their progenitor; in 49.8, for instance, he is responsible for restoring the waste places. He is also identified with Zion, who survives through his poetry. The interplay of alienation and nostalgia, spectrality and dialogue, whereby ghosts talk to ghosts through the poet and God, will be the subject of the paper.

In communicating on the topic of social justice, the rhetorical divide between Latter-day Saints and other Christians threatens to limit interchange and understanding. Differences in the resonance and connotation of biblical passages can make others’ messages seem objectionable and can make our message impenetrable to others. This is unfortunate because there is so much shared ground. The initial difficulties in promoting this dialogue can be found in the starting terms of discussion. When Latter-day Saints describe this society in which there is “no poor among them” they consistently use the biblical image of Zion. It is, however, a term that is not simply biblical for LDS speakers because it is deeply informed by Restoration scripture. It is also important for Latter-day Saints to understand different connotations that the term will have when heard by those of other faiths. A parallel problem can be found in the different rhetorical charges carried by the terms “social justice” or “liberation theology.” For those deeply invested in these efforts to change the conditions of the poor these terms carry tremendous positive weight. Rauschenbusch described social justice as working to build the Kingdom of God on earth. For those of this theological tradition the prophetic message of the Old Testament also has great resonance and speaks to contemporary social problems. Biblical phrases such as Amos 5:24, “let justice roll down like waters,” carry a great weight of meaning because of the connections with Christian social activism. I believe that these theological traditions can reconnect us to the message of social justice in the Bible and highlight the importance of social justice to God (see D&C 38:24-27). If we can bridge the rhetorical gap we have much to learn, and to share, about God’s demand that we be one in temporal as well as spiritual things.

Although a relative newcomer to biblical studies, Reception History is increasingly being recognized by biblical scholars as a viable method for studying the Bible. This can be explained in part by the realization that it provides, among other things, a tool for exploring popular attitudes about the Bible and social, political, and cultural issues, as well as the relationship between what the Bible does and what it means. By focusing on how a particular biblical text has been used in a specific context, scholars and students can uncover what a text means to a particular group or individual. Similarly, by studying over time the various trajectories taken in the uses of a text, the text can be understood organically. Rather than simply searching for meaning in words, Reception History also looks for meaning in actions (that is, how biblical texts are used) and understands this meaning according to the standards and circumstances of the one using the text instead of the one who composed the text. This does not mean that issues surrounding the text’s composition and original meaning and use are ignored or de-valued, but they also are not privileged as the arbiter of legitimacy. Such an approach has serious implications for how biblical studies are conducted, not the least of which is how biblical scholars understand the text’s nature and the insights contributed by popular culture. Popular uses of the Bible can find meanings and aspects of the text that might otherwise be eclipsed by scholarly and religious concerns. When applied to the Bible’s use in American postcards and political cartoons from the 1870s through the 1930s, Reception History not only demonstrates the concerns of those employing these texts, as well as their creativity in finding effective uses for them, but also encourages reflection on how scholars and students think about the Bible. By looking at several examples of these media this paper will illustrate a way of applying Reception History, while also drawing conclusions about the insights derived from these postcards and political cartoons. In doing so, emphasis will be given to the question, “What does the Bible do?” as a starting point for understanding a biblical text, particularly when considering its use in popular culture.

“The Life of Christ” as a narrative cycle in Christian art does not represent the narrative of a single evangelist, but rather reflects a kind of mental Diatessaron, a harmonized story consisting of material from all four canonical gospels, at times even from apocryphal traditions. Some of Rembrandt’s paintings, however, are conspicuous exceptions to the rule. In the “Ecce Homo” from 1634 (National Gallery, London), he closely investigates the Johannine version of the trial before Pilate (John 18:28-19:16a) with no reference to the synoptic accounts what so ever. In this presentation, which is part of a larger project on Rembrandt as seen by biblical scholars, I shall point at Rembrandt’s attention to particular details in John’s narrative and discuss his interpretation of (1) the power struggle between Jesus, Pilate and the Ioudaioi, (2) the judge’s bench (bema) in John 19:13, and (3) the identity of the true and ultimate judge in the trial.

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The story of Hagar in Gen 16 and 21:8-21 illustrates both classical exegetical and recent contextual questions. Several contextual readings (Trible, Williams etc) underscore the value of rereading of the story. The paper reminds shortly also about the major exegetical results and trends represented by von Rad, Noth, van Seters and Levin. Thus the earliest layer in Gen. 16* belongs to J (pre-exilic/exilic) and the latter parts of Gen. 21 are post-exilic midrash. Secondly the paper introduces the method which is named in the paper “inter-contextual analysis”. This analysis offers a methodological tool to connect the past text with the present reality. Special focus is given on poor women in Finland and on the workers among them. Inter-contextual analysis aims to bring into dialogue the four contexts (social locations; cf. David Rhoads) needed for reading the text: - questions of the poor 1, views behind the biblical texts, - interpreter(s) 1, views of the writer(s) of the biblical text - interpreter 2, author of present study - poor 2, views of persons who are named poor today. Each view opens a different and complementary angle to the story. The method opens a dialogue between the ancient text and current poverty studies and illustrates more precisely the varying roles of ancient and modern interpreters. The method illustrates also how the poor female voice (Hagar) in the text needs an advocate to be fairly heard. Classical exegesis without contextual dimension is in danger to be/stay one-sided and narrow, but also contextual reading requires the support of exegetical work. The inter-contextual method offers a tool needed in the process.

As we consider what it means to teach Biblical Literature in the Liberal Arts, we are confronted with many questions. What do we want our students to learn? How do our classes and departments fit into the broader study of religion(s)? How do they fit into the liberal arts and the general attitudes of our institutions? How do we assess what our students are learning? How do objectives and student outcomes differ between required and elective courses? The Teagle White Paper and other resources give background on majors in Religious Studies in general and in Biblical Literature, but it could be useful to get a sense of what various institutions are doing right now in teaching Biblical Literature. This paper will summarize a brief preliminary survey of current practices among participants in this program unit. This survey will allow us to begin to see how various factors of departmental identity, institutional affiliation, and curricular structure affect teaching approaches and student outcomes.

This paper will explore, in the context of late-antique exegetical controversies, depictions of the expulsion in early and medieval Christian art. Although Gen. 3:21 describes God as clothing the couple with “skin tunics” before their departure from Eden, Christian artists most frequently represented the expelled couple as naked or wearing fig leaves. A variant convention represented Eve, clothed in a woven tunic, carrying from the garden a distaff, defining her paradigmatic labor as to produce cloth and garments from natural fibers. While this representation might reflect a conception of a division of labor between male and female, it also varies from the Genesis text, which defines child-bearing as the prototype of women’s work. This fluidity of iconographic conventions, as well as its departure from textual models, may reflect responses to criticisms of literal readings of Gen. 3:21. The skin tunics became a flashpoint in the Origenist controversy when supporters of Origen referred this verse to an alteration in the post-lapsarian embodied condition, rather than a bestowal of animal hides as primitive clothing. Although orthodox interpreters attacked the Origenists, two criticisms of literal interpretation proved tenacious: how could God’s robing of the couple be appropriate to divine dignity, and how could God have made hide garments without killing animals? One iconographic response to these critiques was to avoid depicting the garments at all, thus representing clothing as a post-Edenic cultural development. A second strategy was to depict Eve with her distaff as the originator of clothing. This move was undergirded by an exegetical argument developed specifically to deflect Origenist criticism. Such defenders of the historicity of the text held that God did not clothe the couple, but instructed the woman how to make garments. I will document this exegetical argument and link it to the iconography of the expulsion.

In postcolonial biblical criticism, Mark’s relation to Roman power has been a debated topic. Among others, Stephen Moore and Benny Tat-siong Liew have argued that Mark in different ways reproduces a colonial ideology. This is seen most clearly, they argue, in the Markan parousia and its depictions of the coming (popularly spoken of as “a return”) of the Son of Man as waging absolute and tyrannical authority. This paper discusses the moral problem of the returning Jesus and attempts to find a way through the interpretative conundrums. Further, these interpretations are located in another return – a reaching back to a moral critique that was part of the forming of modern Biblical studies in its beginning in the late seventeenth century.

“Three character classic” is a genre of children school textbook in China that aims at teaching the young generation the basics in reading, writing and primary ethical education. It has a long history in Chinese society at least since the 13th Century. The foreign missionaries discovered it when they arrived in China. They imitated its form and transformed its content with religious message of the Bible. This paper intends to study the portrayal of the enemies and the devil in the three-character classic of the Taiping Tianguo (Kingdom of Great Peace, 1851-64), a Christian peasant movement that conquered almost half of China and set up its capital at Nanjing (renamed Heavenly Capital). The Taiping Three Character Classic differs from those of the Protestant missionaries in its relating the stories of Exodus, Jesus, and Hong Xiuchuan, the Taiping Heavenly King who claims to be God’s second son. It exhibits a unique socio-religious interpretation of the Bible in the Taiping and Confucian contexts.

I have drawn in this paper a comparison of the Gathas of Zarathustra and the Wisdom of Solomon. While scholars have noted many strands of Greek philosophical thought in the Wisdom of Solomon, there is great possibility that other strands of thought exist in the Wisdom of Solomon that are not particularly of Greek influence. I have endeavored to show in this paper elements of Persian Zoroastrian philosophical ideas embedded in the framework of the Wisdom of Solomon. Historically, it is plausible that some degree of Zoroastrian thought might have influenced the Wisdom of Solomon. Textually, a lot of Zoroastrian elements are present in the Wisdom of Solomon. For example, the Wisdom of Solomon shares: the Zoroastrian concept of non-linear and non-mystical path towards attaining Wisdom; the Zoroastrian notion of a mercurial or “feminine” Wisdom; and the Zoroastrian concept of Wisdom as an overflowing force that brings about practical applications in daily life. But there are also minor similarities, such as the conception of God, the human spirit, the human condition, enlightenment. Though this paper was not an exhaustive study of both texts, I hope it opens a possibility of appreciating the Wisdom of Solomon in a new light.

This paper intends to investigate socio-political and theological/ideological meanings of reconciliation in Romans from a Korean postcolonial perspective. The paper questions whether the Korean issue involved in the reality of its divided country under the U.S. imperial power dynamics and the people’s yearning for reconciliation/reunification can have some resonance with the theme of reconciliation among Jews and non-Jews (the nations) within and outside Christ-believing Roman communities under the first century Roman imperial domination and its ideological constraints. Challenging historical and ideological assumptions embedded in the mainstream interpretation about Paul, Jew/Israel, and the nations under the shadow of Roman imperial domination, this paper takes seriously colonial and imperial dynamics entangled in the question of unity and difference among Judeans and the nations in order to explore the full potential of Paul’s politics of reconciliation (unification) with difference as a subversive resistance against Roman imperial (in)justice with its politics of assimilation. The paper will deal with the imperial construction of Jews (Judeans) as “difference/others” and non-Jewish complicity with the imperial dynamics as the context of Romans and elaborate on the rhetorical and ideological meaning of reconciliation in Romans through studying themes such as the relationships of Abraham, Judeans, and the nations (Rom 4); Israel and the nations in Christ (Rom 9-11); and the weak and the strong (Rom 14-15).

A narrative reading of the ‘silence’ of Jesus’ opponents in Mark 12:34c means that the emphatic statement on the ‘silence’ must be read in light of Mark’s narrative as a whole. The flow of the narrative in the immediate context of 12.34c portrays Jesus’ victory over his opponents (11.27-12.34b) and introduces his loaded question concerning the identity of the Messiah (12.35-37). A narrative reading, however, looks beyond just the immediate context to the story in its entirety. In light of the whole narrative, it is necessary to understand this ‘silence’ in connection to the climax of the story – the passion narrative. In connecting 12.34c with the passion narrative, we, however, have to face the fact that Jesus is challenged and even mocked by his non-silent opponents in the trial scene (Mk 14.53-65). How should we understand the declaration of ‘silence’ in 12.34c in view of such ‘non-silence’? This paper answers the question by considering the ‘silence’ (12.34c) and the ‘non-silence’ (14.53-65) of Jesus’ opponents along with various portrayals of Jesus’ authority and the use of irony throughout the Markan narrative. The ‘silence’ of Jesus’ opponents then appears to establish an apologetic point: Jesus did not die powerlessly, but rather powerfully - he, as a victor, chose to take his seemingly defeat-symbolizing cross. The ‘non-silence’ of Jesus’ opponents in the trial account, in that sense, is not an indicator of the incompleteness of his victory, but rather a sign of the ironic death this victor had to die in order to fulfill God’s will (14.36).

The physical and metaphorical imagery of rebuilding Jerusalem’s walls serves to provide theological unity in Ezra and Nehemiah, according to some biblical commentators. Given that 1 Esdras parallels texts from Ezra and Nehemiah (as well as Chronicles), it is curious that the specific visual imagery of the protective wall shared by Ezra and Nehemiah is absent in 1 Esdras. I suggest that 1 Esdras does not contain this notion because its author was simply not familiar with. This paper further argues that 1 Esdras and the Canonical version of Ezra and Nehemiah stem from a common Vorlage that focused on the rebuilding of the Temple. The composer of 1 Esdras inherited a tradition which did not know the Nehemiah Memoir. The author of 1 Esdras inserted into an earlier framework the “Story of the Three Youths” in which Zerubbabel was the wise courtier who reestablished the cult in Jerusalem. In the Nehemiah account, the figure of Nehemiah similarly plays the role of sagacious hero in the foreign court. This paper argues that evidence for a shared Vorlage for Ezra-Nehemiah and 1 Esdras can be found in the similar roles of the characters of Nehemiah and Zerubbabel. Additionally, the theme of God’s steadfast protection of Jerusalem helps to establish the textual parameters of this Vorlage.

Scholars have paid attention to Semitic spellings of transliterated proper nouns in the Synoptic Gospels and Acts because the Semitic spellings have been considered to be earlier variants in relation to major issues of Gospel Studies like textual criticism and the Synoptic Problem. However, recent sociolinguistic theory offers fresh insights into the Semitic spellings of the Synoptic Gospels. Phonological correspondence rules in a bilingual milieu indicate that a Semitic spelling is not the harder reading and that Semitic types do not always have temporal priority over Greek types. Rather, if we consider that the linguistic milieu of first-century Palestine and Roman Near East was bilingualism in Greek and vernacular languages, we can assume that Luke might have used Semitic spellings as his literary device in his Greek literature. Similarly, in recent years, some classicists apply sociolinguistic theory to Classical studies and began to consider foreign embedded words in Greek or Latin texts as literary device. In this respect, this paper investigates locative proper nouns in Semitic forms such as Nazareth and Jerusalem in the Lukan narratives. I propose that the writer uses the Semitic spellings as his literary device to stress his intention in his narrative flow.

Three seasons of excavation have been conducted to date at Khirbet Wadi Hamam in the Eastern Lower Galilee. The main goals of the project are (1) to try and shed new light on the highly debated issue of the dating of the ‘Galilean Synagogues’; and (2) to examine the synagogue in the context of its settlement – its location in the village, in the history of the village, and against the background of village life. The excavations of residential and industrial areas in the village have revealed some interesting and even surprising findings. In one of the areas a massive destruction layer (fire and collapse) was exposed. The rich findings included pottery, glass, metal, and stone vessels; weapons; and a hoard of coins from the reign of Hadrian from the second or third decade of the second century CE. This of course raises the possibility of a connection to the Bar Kokhba revolt. The excavation of the synagogue has revealed an almost square building with rich architectural elements. In addition, segments of a unique mosaic floor were exposed. The segments uncovered to date include inscriptions, geometric decorations, and figurative scenes. It seems that this is one of the earliest, if not THE earliest, figurative mosaic discovered in a synagogue to date. The scenes exposed do not have any parallels either in early synagogue art or even generally in the Roman-Byzantine art of Palestine. The paper will present the main findings of the excavations and will discuss issues of stratigraphy and dating.

This paper will explore the relationship between physical wholeness and constructions of masculinity, building upon previous works that have addressed this topic (e.g. Lemos, “Shame and Mutilation of Enemies in the Hebrew Bible; Chapman, _The Gendered Language of Warfare in the Israelite-Assyrian Encounter_; among others). The paper will focus particularly on the nexus between masculine display, braggartry, mutilation, and feminization in biblical and ancient Near Eastern texts and reliefs. It will address various questions: could a mutilated and/or disabled body ever be considered masculine in ancient Near Eastern thinking? If mutilation served often as a mode of feminizing victims, then was a female body by nature a blemished body? Finally, how did conceptions of masculinity and bodily wholeness relate to everyday social status and authority in ancient Israel and other ancient Near Eastern societies? Speaking in more specific fashion, considering the fact that eunuchs—who possessed the feminized body par excellence—could inhabit positions of authority in ancient Near Eastern empires, one must critically examine the relationship between mutilation and social status and question what practical effects mutilation had upon the lives of individuals. In other words, what were the real consequences of possessing a mutilated body in the ancient Near East, and were Israelite texts in any way more discriminatory toward the mutilated and/or disabled than those of other groups?

The bond between Ruth and Naomi is more powerful than either woman’s ties to her own people or her own land. Theirs is a committed relationship that crosses the boundaries of age, nationality, and religion. Their bond is explained as an emotional, romantic tie in many musical retellings of their story. Ruth’s pledge of fidelity to Naomi is one of the most well-known and oft-quoted verses in the Hebrew Bible. Read out of context, her words would be understood as a declaration of a primary commitment; and readers unfamiliar with its origins would assume it to be a declaration of heterosexual love. Yet the writer no more explains Ruth’s motives for her vow than Naomi’s complete lack of response to it. In this paper, both music and librettos are treated as midrash—a creative re-telling through both altered text and in the language of music. Love and affection are attributed to both women in many musical settings of the story. This paper will introduce and discuss three musical works that extensively treat Ruth and Naomi’s relationship: two late 19th-century oratorios, and a 20th-century opera. Ruth’s pledge is a musical highlight and a leitmotif running through all three works. Musically, this centers the entire story on the committed relationship initiated by Ruth’s famous text. Ruth’s and Naomi’s words can be heard in many keys and diverse melodies, and various musical techniques breathe life into the text and suggest emotion that can only be read between the lines of the biblical text.

This paper reports on the status of the new handbook edition of Ludlul Bel Nemeqi (often called "The Babylonian Job") that Amar Annus and Alan Lenzi are preparing for the State Archives of Assyria Cuneiform Text series. The paper summarizes the new sources for the poem that have become available since Lambert's edition, many of which are still unpublished, and presents several examples of improved readings and filled lacunae. The presentation will also briefly sketch a strategy for reading the poem as a unified work, emphasizing the theme of divine inscrutability, and end with several observations on the comparison of the Akkadian poem with the biblical Book of Job.

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The Egyptian Jewish philosopher Philo reports on the Therapeutics, a first-century C.E. Jewish monastic group with both male and female members, who engaged in allegorical interpretation of the Scriptures and ecstatic ritual celebrations. The Testament of Job, a retelling in Greek of the book of Job, describes Job’s three daughters as hymning God in the languages of the angels, and Joseph and Aseneth, an expansion in Greek of the biblical story of Joseph’s marriage to Aseneth, describes how Aseneth’s prayers invoke the angelic captain of the heavenly host. Why could these works depict the contact between women and angels in a positive fashion? What factors made it possible for the Testament of Job and Joseph and Aseneth to portray a mystical ideal for women as well as for men? Do these works offer any evidence that real women engaged in mystical contemplation, or do they simply explore the exegetical possibilities through literary depictions? Does Philo’s account of the Therapeutics provide any guidance towards the social setting of composition of the Testament of Job or Joseph and Aseneth, or hint towards the type of woman likely to be involved in mystical contemplation?

Web 2.0—the sum of the internet's collaborative applications—has begun to be valued for its possibilities for distance learning. Yet, these strategies are sometimes considered only "next best,” with some asking whether distance learning communities can re-create the kinds of community associated with brick-and-mortar learning. This presentation asks, Why should they? Via Web 2.0, distant collaborative learning already happens in ways demonstrating advantages over traditional learning communities. We no longer seek to export traditional community models into the online environment; instead, we import the emergent possibilities of distance learning into the brick-and-mortar classroom. This presentation reports, from the brick-and-mortar classroom in Hebrew Bible, on the use of: 1) Slide-enhanced Pod-casting for delivery of lectures; 2) Shared, aggregated RSS feeds from blogs, iTunes, YouTube, GoogleNews and GoogleImages as course-related material for collaborative critical assessment; 3) Social bookmarking, highlighting, annotation, and “tagging” of web pages of interest as a flash-point for collaborative provisional thinking; 4) Blogging as a means of socially pursuing that collaborative provisional thinking; 5) The Wiki as a vehicle for raising up leaders, for producing enduringly valuable resources, and for learning how hypertext transforms our understanding of the taxonomical enterprise; 6) Peer-to-peer assessment of writing projects as an exercise in socially engaging the critical rubrics articulated for the course and for the institution. Web 2.0 has inverted an idea that was until recently common sense: that brick-and-mortar classrooms provide the ideal environment for collaborative critical learning, and that asynchronous, online communities must strive to duplicate the brick-and-mortar model while falling ever short of that ideal. As the unique possibilities of online social learning make themselves known, the traditional classroom begins to re-invent itself in the image of its younger, Web 2.0, sibling.

Most researchers have looked to the succession list enshrined in the opening verse of Mishna Avot as a purely hermeneutical attempt to connect the Rabbinic movement to the Biblical period. A careful consideration of the Biblical figures mentioned in Avot 1.1, however, suggests that this list is not strictly a hermeneutical construct. Rather, the passing of revelation from the "prophets" to the "men of the great assembly" reveals a conscious awareness of the intellectual institutions that arose among scribes during the period of the Babylonian exile and which were developed during the Persian period. The present study addresses the specifics of those institutions, their political function during the 6th through 4th centuries BCE, and their contribution to the socio-political preferences of the redactors of Mishnah Avot.

Employing a psychological lens along with literary (including the Bakhtinian perspectives on polyphony and dialogism) and historical-critical tools, this presentation undertakes a psycho-dramatic approach to the "Vision-Report" of Isaiah 6. The intricacy of the textual depiction of God as the "Total Otherness," leading to the self-condemnation of the prophet (the psychology of guilt), and climaxing at the commissioning to the "Mission Impossible" (perplexed and repressed Isaian emotions) shapes the momentum in the development of this paper. An "audience" perspective in readers in reading biblical "vision-drama" will be highlighted. The overall objective is to demonstrate that a psycho-dramatic reading strategy may further expand the horizon of perception and enrich the meaning-significance of this first-person "vision report."

In present research doubts increase whether the Book of Judges has been part of the Deuteronomistic History from the start. Exegetes attempt to make evident that the original form of the Deuteronomistic History contained the Books of Samuel and Kings only. If this be true the Book of Judges would have come inbetween only later, forming the secondary narrative link between the Hexateuch and the Deuteronomistic History resp. between the era of the conquest and the monarchy. The paper shall present a close reading of the editorial framework and show that the Book of Judges is closely linked with the Book of Joshua on the one hand and with the Book of Samuel on the other, thus forming an indispensable section in the course of the Deuteronomistic History.

Precisely one hundred years ago, in 1909, Hermann Gunkel authorized the publication of the third edition of his explosive little book-what he called his Büchlein-which he had first published in 1888 under the title, Die Wirkungen des heiligen Geistes nach der populären Anschauung der apostolischen Zeit und der Lehre des Apostels Paulus. By intertwining rich biographical detail with scholarly analysis, this paper will explore and expose the one-hundred-year-old legacy of Hermann Gunkel's Büchlein. (1) The paper will showcase the salient and utterly fresh contributions Gunkel made to the study of early Christian pneumatology-contributions which toppled longstanding perspectives on the spirit and set an agenda which continues unabated a century later. (2) The paper will go well beyond an uncritical review of Gunkel's remarkable prescience. It will chart as well some of the errant and egregious consequences his study had upon the scholarly study of pneumatology in the twentieth century. (3) The paper will also chart a way forward that will require of its proponents the sort of brazen disregard for uncritically accepted points of view that Gunkel exhibited. This fresh directive for the study of pneuma in the twenty-first century demands a drastic revision of Gunkel's legacy, even as his Büchlein brought about a drastic and different direction in the study of early Christian pneumatology.

In Kierkegaard’s challenging book Repetition, Constantin Constantius narrates his interaction with a nameless young man over the course of several months. Constantin publishes his correspondence in the second half of Repetition, which mainly consists of unanswered letters from the young man. During the course of the letters, the young man begins to discuss the biblical book of Job, giving his interpretation of Job in the process. Looking carefully at the young man’s interpretation, one can see that he begins to identify with Job so profoundly that he attributes the characters of the biblical book to other characters in his own life. The young man’s appropriation of Job leads to a very creative interpretation of the biblical book, namely he finds a cause-effect relationship for the ironic conclusion where Job receives everything back from God despite the rebuke of the Theophany. The cause and effect do not reflect the logic of the material world but display an absurdity. Repetition gives us insight into the book of Job and also helps us understand Kierkegaard’s hermeneutics. Noting the role irony has in Kierkegaard’s work, however, one cannot necessarily assume that Kierkegaard himself would endorse the young man’s appropriation of the character of Job. Thus, along with highlighting Repetition’s insights into the Book of Job, we will also note how Kierkegaard’s hermeneutic principles, especially appropriation and Socratic irony, contribute to his interpretation.

The Ugaritic goddess 'Athtartu (Astarte) is at the center of two well-known problems of translation, one from a twice-used curse (KTU 1.16.6.54-57; KTU 1.2.1.7-8), the other from a speech the goddess makes when Ba'lu is battling Yammu (KTU 1.2.IV.28). The first problem has to do with the meaning of the goddess’s cryptic name “'Athtartu-šm-Ba'lu” that, in Pardee’s words, “has exercised the imagination of the commentators but for which no universally accepted explanation has been discovered.” The second problem wrestles with why 'Athtartu “rebukes” Ba'lu in the Ba'lu Cycle. At this stage in the battle, Ba'lu has gained the upper hand and if anything deserves cheering on, not rebuking and especially not from 'Athtartu. This paper proposes a common solution to both problems. We propose that 'Athtartu is wielding effective words, that is, words (usually used in rituals) that were thought to carry actual power and used by gods and humans alike (e.g. curses, incantations, imprecations, exorcistic formula, sympathetic magic, spells, and execrations texts). We suggest for the second problem that 'Athtartu is using effective words against Yammu, not Ba'lu. In our opinion, line 28 (bšm tg'rm 'ttrt) does not begin a new subject. Rather, it is an integral part to the continuing narrative. The battle between the two champions is still engaged with Ba'lu about to finish Yammu off. Just then 'Athtartu joins Ba'lu’s efforts with a ritual curse against Yammu. By joining Ba'lu in the battle, her subsequent words (“For Prince [Yammu] is our captive, [for] Judge River is our captive”) become literally true. Key to this new interpretation is the meaning of the verb g'r that will be explored in depth in Ugaritic and cognate languages. We conclude that this verb can be used to designate a deity’s effective power against his enemies via the use of language. 'Athtartu’s use of effective words against Yammu fits the immediate context extremely well where Kotharu-wa-Hasisu has already presented weapons to Ba'lu that were rendered effective by incantations.The paper then returns to the first problem and suggests that the goddess’s title 'Athtartu-Name-of-Ba'lu may have to do with how the name of a deity could be wielded as effectual power within incantations.

Those who are no strangers to our discipline will recall that early computer-based approaches in Biblical studies displayed an unevenness of method and were deservedly critiqued by Kenny, Rudman, Juola and others. It seems clear however, that equipped with more rigorous formalisms as well as new methods from corpus and computational linguistics, a new generation of computer-assisted research approaches seems, like Polycarp’s phoenix, to be arising from the ashes of those inaugural efforts. One of the growing insights in this new work is that morphological annotation defined by traditional grammar encodes only a portion of the linguistic richness (the paradigmatic) available within the Biblical languages. Both intuition and general linguistic theory argue that other levels of linguistics structure (e.g. the lexeme, the word-group, the clause, the sentence, and discourse) also encode important information. Yet, no research databases of the Greek or Hebrew Scriptures currently exist that contain annotation at all these discrete levels. We present in this paper a new non-commercial research project to develop such a database for the Greek New Testament. This effort, which we term the Integrated Greek New Testament (IGNT) integrates multiple research databases of the GNT (GRAMCORD, Logos, Friberg’s AGNT, Tauber’s morphGNT, and OpenText) onto a single platform. Accordingly, the IGNT currently contains lexical, morphological, semantic, word group, clause, and extended clause annotations for each word in the GNT. Moreover, since the goals of the project include portability and accessibility, the database is readable by all commercial statistical packages and has been supplemented by developing over 1000 discrete lexical, paradigmatic, syntagmatic, and semantic fields to the data. In this paper we will explore the structure of the IGNT and will employ a mix of software tools to demonstrate in real time how such a database can be useful to Biblical scholars.

Although 1 Peter initially appears to be addressed to Jewish Christians scattered throughout Asia Minor (1.1), several references in the letter seem to nullify this initial impression: the audience is said to have been redeemed from the futile way of life handed down to them from their fathers (1.18); they are urged, as a result of their redemption, to put their faith and hope in God (1.21); and finally, they are seen to have once participated in ‘licentious living, passions, drunkenness, revels, carousing, and lawless idolatry’(4.2-3). Most scholars agree that these references are decisive in concluding that 1 Peter was written to a predominantly Gentile audience. For at least two generations 1 Peter scholarship has operated on this assumption, which not only has had a profound impact on the way the letter has been interpreted, but also has set the agenda for subsequent research in 1 Peter. In this paper I will focus particularly on the common assertion that 1 Pet 1.18, 21 and 4.2-3 ‘could hardly have been addressed to any but Gentiles’ (Selwyn). A fresh examination of a long-standing tradition within Judaism will demonstrate that it was not out of step for Jews to characterize their fathers and their compeers as idolatrous, unbelieving, and ignorant of YHWH’s purposes. With this in mind, the rhetoric of 1 Pet 1.18, 21, and 4.2-3 could be yet another indication that our author, in keeping with other ‘Jewish’ features in the letter, is addressing fellow-Israelites.

Since the rise of the New Perspective, one of the most important points in Pauline studies is the issue of how Paul related to Judaism. This paper will explore Paul’s remarks on ioudaioi and ioudaismos in his authentic letters and compare them to his use of the designations hebraios and israel. The point it will argue is, that for Paul ioudaismos designated a specific type of Jewish identity that he no longer adhered to. In stead, he proclaimed a new Israel, to which pagans were welcomed. Thus, he redefined the idea of Israel in a way that would enable later generations of Christians to develop a substitution theology in which the identity of Israel was claimed for a mostly non-Jewish movement of followers of Jesus Christ. One of the main reasons for Paul’s redefinition of Israel was his eschatological fervor: he was convinced that this specific, new Israel was an eschatological entity that would soon be taken up by God in the new aeon. The theological difficulty of Christians claiming Israel’s heritage is thus rooted in Paul’s eschatological views, or rather: his eschatological mistake.

The Syrohexapla has to be studied in its own right before it can be used properly for lexicographical, text-critical, and other interrelated purposes. An issue important to a proper assessment of the Syrohexapla is its translational features. This paper discusses some translational features of the Syrohexapla of 1 Samuel. The syrohexaplaric material in 1 Samuel is very fragmentary and has been preserved only in lectionaries and quotations. The only lengthier passages are from the 2nd, the 7th and the 20th chapters. First, in the case of 1 Samuel, the lectionary passages are compared with syrohexaplaric manuscripts in order to evaluate how carefully the lectionaries repeat the original translation. Second, to describe the method of translation, attention is paid not only to the mechanical comparison with the Greek text but also to an evaluation of the passages with the other Syriac versions available. For for 1 Samuel this means the Peshitta and the version of Jacob of Edessa.

Ezekiel 12:21 to 13:7 contains two disputations on the nature of prophecy and a set of woe oracles against false prophets. These sections of Ezekiel preserve anxieties and differences of opinion about prophecy, prediction, fulfillment, and interpretation. Comparison of the versions shows that the unit served as a site of inner-biblical interpretation and debate about the nature of prophecy in general and Ezekiel’s prophecies in particular. Through textual comparison between the Hebrew and Greek witnesses, this paper demonstrates that concerns about fulfillment and false speech characterize the diachronic editorial process evidenced in 12:21-13:7. Such editorial concerns may also be found outside of the pericope, revealing a dynamic inner-biblical discourse about Ezekiel’s prophecies.

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This paper draws attention to the distinctive nature of John’s Judaean witness and its potential for contributing to the quest for the historical Jesus. It argues that John’s context was an indigenously Judaean ‘virtuoso religion’, i.e. forms of piety that may lead to the establishment of religious orders, and that this context helps account for the Johannine distinctiveness and contributes a new perspective on Jesus’ ministry. The paper draws on recent Scrolls scholarship, Josephus, Graeco-Roman sources, and social scientific literature, to outline the nature of this Judaean virtuosity. It pays particular attention to the limited Judaea around Jerusalem and Bethany, and John’s presentation of this region from the perspective of an insider. In this context it focuses on three interrelated themes of the Johannine witness to the historical Jesus: the absent poor, the prominent women, and belief as an ethical imperative.

Deuteronomy 22: 25-27 includes a rare biblical example of a legal analogy. A man who lies by force with an engaged girl in the open countryside will die. Nothing, however, will be done to the girl, since this is like the case of a man attacking and murdering another man; there was no-one to save her. The analogy ensures that the sex is deemed non- consensual, but I argue here that its interest lies elsewhere. Genesis 4:1-12 contains two cruces: the precise meaning of rovets (v. 7), and the lacuna created by Cain’s missing words to his brother Abel (v.8). An intertextual reading with Deut. 22:25-27 may illuminate both. Deut. 22:25-27 and Gen. 4:1-12 share several conceptual and verbal features: the field; a man who ‘arises’ against another (Deut. 22:26, cf. Gen. 4:8); a murder; and a victim who cries out (Deut. 22:27, cf. Gen. 4:10). This intertextual reading complicates the reader’s perception of what Cain did to Abel, and God’s response. I ask whether Deuteronomy’s legal analogy indicates a parallel juxtaposition of sex and murder in Genesis 4. This is supported by an Akkadian-based reading of rovets as ‘snake’ (phallic, and cf. Gen. 3:1); by the similarity between Gen. 4:7 and Gen 3:16 (combined desire and mastery); by the association elsewhere in Genesis of problematic sexual encounters and violence (e.g., 6:1-4, 11; 19:4-1); and by a third possible intertext, 2 Sam. 14:4-11, which likewise involves unpunished fratricide in the field (the woman of Tekoa’s ‘sons’, cf., Absalom and Amnon), following an incestuous sexual encounter (Amnon and Tamar) whose victim cries out (2 Sam. 13:19), and ends with (temporary) banishment. How should Deuteronomy’s legal analogy be brought to bear in relation to these textually and ethically complex narratives?

This essay is an interpretation of Paul’s ascent to heaven (2 Cor 12:1-10) in light of the tradition of Moses’ ascent as told in the Babylonian Talmud (b. Shabbat 88b-89a). A brief exegesis of 2 Cor 12:7-9 argues that these verses ought to be read as a continuation of Paul’s visionary report in vv.2-4. Subsequently, three parallels between vv.7-9 and b. Shabbat 88b-89a are adduced and argued for at length. The essay concludes that (1) Paul probably knew a story of Moses’ ascent similar to that later reported in the Talmud, (2) that he deliberately constructed his ascent to include Mosaic motifs in order to (3) highlight the distinctiveness of his apostolic character and gospel.

Several scholars, most citing the work of Raymond Brown, assert that the presentation of Jesus in the temple in Luke 2 and Jesus’ visit at age twelve to the temple are Luke’s free creation based upon the story of Elkanah, Hannah, and Samuel in 1 Samuel 1-2. It is argued that there are many correspondences between the story in 1 Samuel and the events and characters in Luke 2. It has also been suggested that Luke 2 is based not upon 1 Samuel 1-2 directly but upon traditions about Hannah in Second Temple literature. When we say, however, that a given text is a “source” for something, we should be able to expect a close set of correspondences that fit contextually. Instead, what we find in Luke 2 are many places where the Samuel narrative is not at all parallel to the story of Jesus, other places where the alleged parallels are superficial, and still other points where Luke seemingly “missed” obvious opportunities for parallels. The evidence indicates that 1 Samuel 1-2 was at best an influence upon Luke but not a source. Comparisons and contrasts are presented of both plot and verbal elements that argue against the Samuel story as a source for Luke’s narrative at this point. Hermeneutical questions about what it means to call something a “source” are raised.

This paper argues that, contrary to the common and widespread understanding, Paul does not speak of converting to another faith but instead of reorienting his life on the divine, on Christ. The articulation of Paul's religious understandings as seen in Phil 3:3-21 is very much in keeping with those of the first-century Jew Philo as he discusses them in his treatise The Migration of Abraham.

In the development of early Christian groups into One Christian Church, the famous Pauline phrase "Neither Jew nor Greeks (Gal. 3: 28)" had been interpreted as an important foundation for the unity of Christians. This has not only important in the development of Church in the West, the formation of one Catholic Church, it is also decisive in the understanding of Mission in the various locations and among different ethnic groups in non-European world. From the early years, the phrase was interpreted as the base to erase or to eliminate the distinctiveness of Jew and Greek, or as Christ has erased the categories of ethnic group to form the One Church with One language and One Structure. In other words, the diversities of ethnic identities must be erased to form One Unity. However, this interpretation of Gal 3:28 does not only mistaken to Paul and his contexts, it causes serious mistakes in the missionary movement in the 19th Century. For Paul does not ask the Jews to live like Gentile, nor ask Gentiles to live as Jews. The ethnic characteristics of Jews and Gentiles which do not conflict with the salvation in Christ, should be maintained. The development of Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity in diversified forms should be supported, vis-a-vis to maintain a diversified Christianity in different locations and among various ethnic groups. A revisit to this famous phrase is important to understand the construction of Christian identities in the early Christianity and the world Christianity in this age of globalization.

In this paper I draw upon the social-scientific work of Victor Turner and Pierre Bourdieu to highlight how the narrative of Solomon’s pilgrimage to Gibeon (2 Chronicles 1) can be read as a multi-leveled rite of passage. Solomon’s journey to Gibeon, a space that is both liminal and hostile, marks a significant literary shift in the Chronicler’s characterization of Solomon; his portrayal changes from one that is passive and silent to one that is wise and courageous, closely following narrative models of great leaders from Israel’s past. Second, Solomon’s personal transformation in turn facilitates a significant narrative shift in the liturgical life of Israel: moving from worship associated with the tabernacle (itself a symbol of impermanence and liminality) toward exclusive worship in the temple in Jerusalem. Finally, the Chronicler’s narrative marks the beginning of a shift in Israel’s self-identity: a nation that is divided by both tribe and cult becomes a nation united through temple worship. Turner’s tripartite construal of pilgrimage provides a useful theoretical framework for reading this narrative. Further, both Turner’s notion of communitas and Bourdieu’s understanding of rites of passage as the union of antagonistic principles help shed significant light on the discursive aims of the Chronicler in this text.

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"Emphasis" in texts often comes from the emotions of the speaker/writer. In the Hebrew Bible, the word class "interjection" is used to express emotion. This paper examines this part of speech from a syntactic and text linguistic perspective. Syntactic features such as length of clause, word order, presence or absence of other clause constituents are examined in the context of the surrounding text, and whether the interjection is its own free-standing clause or functions as a clause constituent itself. These features and distributions are correlated to the emotions being expressed. All interjections are examined, the features and correlations being tabulated in a summary handout. It turns out that "interjection" is not a morphological word class, but a semantic and syntactic word class; some lemmas should be reclassified; most interjection clauses are nominal clauses lacking subjects; some are used adverbially or as imperatives.

This paper proposes firstly that Paul’s articulation of the foundational idolatrous “exchange” of Rom 1:23 utilizing language drawn from Ps 106(105):20, a text concerning Israel’s idolatrous golden calf incident, serves as the basis for indicting a Jewish interlocutor in Rom 2:1ff. and counters the construction of Jewish identity in Wis 11–19. Secondly, I suggest that Paul’s use of Ps 106(105) to counter Wis 11–19 may reflect his participation in an ancient interpretive debate. On one side of the debate are apologetically-oriented Jews who subscribe to the construction of identity in Wis 11–19, a text minimizing the motif of Israelite rebellion as it utilizes material from the Pentateuch’s plague and wilderness accounts to construct seven antithetical contrasts between punishment of the Egyptians versus provision/mercy for the Israelites. Wis’s hermeneutic finds warrant in Ps 105(104), which also interprets numerous pentateuchal texts without reference to Israelite sin. Moreover, four of the first five antithetical contrasts in Wis 11-19 may be constructed from Ps 105(104):23-42: (1) Darkness for Egypt vs. Fire at Night for Israel; (2) Water to Blood vs. Water from a Rock; (3) Animal Plagues vs. Quail; (4) Fiery Hail vs. Manna. On the other side of the debate are Jews oriented toward repentance and restoration. While noting the positive parallels between Wis 11–19 and Ps 105(104), these Jews would have further observed that the companion Ps 106(105) shares five contrastive parallels with Wis 11–19 concerning: (1) Red Sea Crossing; (2) Provision of Quail and Manna; (3) Korah’s Rebellion; (4) Water from the Rock; and (5) Fornication. In each case whereas Wis minimizes Israelite rebellion Ps 106(105) focuses upon it. Thus an interpretive response rooted in Ps 106(105) may have developed to counter Wis 11–19 and Paul’s allusion in Rom 1:23 may draw upon this response.

I propose to present a paper on biblical interpretation and the role of scripture in Egypt as seen through the prism of gospel amulets. My paper examines a fifth-century amulet for a woman, P.Oxy. VIII 1151, against the backdrop of writings by church leaders, such as a Coptic sermon and fragment both attributed to Athanasius of Alexandria. I will demonstrate that these gospel amulets, seen in their local Egyptian context, in their use of canonical scripture and Christian scribal practices, and in their appeal to local saints, give us a different view of ‘orthodoxy’ than the church fathers promoted.

From Origines Judaicae (1709) through Reasons for Naturalizing the Jews (1714) to Nazarenus (1718), the Irish philosopher John Toland (1670-1722) demonstrated an enduring interest in the Jewish roots of Christianity, as well as a heartfelt sympathy for the Jewish people as such, setting him apart from the Enlightenment mainstream. This paper will concentrate more specifically on Toland’s contribution to Biblical studies, and to the debate about the early connections between Judaism and nascent Christianity. Particular emphasis will be placed on Nazarenus, in which he spells out his views about what he terms “the original plan of Christianity”. According to Toland, Jews and Gentiles were meant to have lived together harmoniously within a broad community of worship built on the principle of “Union without uniformity”. On his reading of early Judaeo-Christian history, the “original plan” was subverted by the ill-advised intervention of Paul: Nazarenus should therefore be read as an anti-pauline manifesto.

Psychological and social paradigms have dominated translations and interpretations of shame terminology in the Hebrew Bible. Scholars often proceed from modern notions of shame as either internal feelings of worthlessness or external social sanction, and then apply those notions to the biblical text. However, I suggest that there is need to re-evaluate whether or not such psychological and social frames are adequate for interpreting biblical terminology of shame. My essay contends that shame terms, such as “bwš,” “klm” and their cognates and synonyms, frequently denote the experience of “diminishment” or “harm” in ways far more physical than typically reflected in modern translations and interpretations. If such physical valences are indeed central, there may be a need to rethink many of the countless terms that operate within the semantic domain of “shame” in the Hebrew Bible.

This paper seeks to elucidate the parallels that exist between Paul's critique and use of "boasting" in his letters and the concept of Jazz (African American Classical Music) as an emerging construct. These similarities include, but are not limited to: (1) Paul and Jazz musicians utilizing tools that were formerly used in ways that were exclusive as mechanisms for inclusion; (2) Both Paul and Jazz musicians were more than marginally successful in facilitating inclusivity (active participation) as well leadership roles for a constituency struggling against prejudice and marginalization; (3) Paul and Jazz musicians achieved their respective goals through highly imaginative use of conventional mechanisms in unconventional ways. The paper will trace the methodologies of Paul and Jazz musicians while highlighting the similarities, misconceptions, and challenges associated with each of them. Ultimately the paper will demonstrate that an orientation of the history of Jazz can be the catalyst to re-calibrate our reading of Paul with surprising results.

War in the Hebrew Bible: A Study of the Ethics of Violence, by Susan Niditch (1993), changed the way we look at military conflicts in the Bible. Her thoroughgoing work demonstrates that although the ancient Israelites were different from modern Bible readers in many ways, they were also similar to them because they too worried about the ethics and justness of war. In support of the diversity of biblical perspectives on war, Niditch proffers seven distinct approaches to war preserved in the Bible (e.g., “The Ban as God’s Portion”; “The Bardic Tradition of War”; etc). This spectrum of perspectives on war may be seen, as Niditch holds, via an intra-biblical debate evinced in self-contradictory texts as the biblical writers tried to make sense of the violence of war. Niditch’s reading of herem (the “ban”) passages, however, is less productive. She maintains that these passages provide evidence to show that God “appreciates human sacrifice” (34, 152). Does the Bible support her conclusion? Did the ancient Israelites understand their God in this way, or does Niditch misconstrue the evidence? Is there “no better sacrifice,” as she claims, than human sacrifice? An analysis of the biblical concept of sacrifice does not support Niditch’s proposal. Rather, as this study shows, the biblical herem could never be construed to be a sacrifice. Moreover, Niditch’s analysis relies too heavily upon extra-Levantine sociological and anthropological research about sacrifice while largely ignoring most of the salient biblical passages about it. Although Niditch’s book advances our understanding of warfare in the Bible, it seriously misreads the biblical data on sacrifice and then ultimately misinterprets herem in the Bible.

Contrary to a popular misconception among its readers, the book of Proverbs does not try to suppress an uneasy tension between its religious ideals and the hard facts of daily human experiences. Nor does it reduce the complexity of this nexus into simple schemata often dubbed as retribution. Retribution as an autonomous mechanism of causality is not described, much less professed, in the moral discourse of Proverbs. What can be abstracted from the sayings and lectures in the book is the notion of eventuality in relation to the execution of divine justice. This paper argues that the notion that the righteous God will eventually mete out justice belongs to the category of faith, according to which the willful acts of God count more heavily into a moral calculus rather than some abstract causality. This paper will argue that such notion of eventuality is not merely reflection of Israelite religiosity in general, but an essential component of the sapiential worldview.

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The sages did not interpret the Bible in a sequential fashion, in the manner of the medieval rabbinic scholars. Instead, in their halakhic and aggadic literature they primarily left us a non-sequential array of commentaries on the verses of the Bible. Many of these commentaries reflected the reality of their lives, including the religious polemic with the Christian world, particularly in the third and fourth centuries C.E. in Palestine. Sermons against the Jews appear already in the New Testament, and later, in the writings of the Church Fathers, such as Justin Martyr, Origen, Jerome. We will discuss several examples of anti-Christian components in the commentaries of the sages as well as a number of practices relating to prayer and the synagogue service which should be understood against the background of the religious conflict between Jews and Christians in the early centuries. Based on the verse “Write thou these words” (Exod. 34:27), the sages learned that the words of the Bible should be written out, but the words of the Oral Law should not. They thus underscored the distinction between the Bible, which is in written format and familiar to one and all, and the Oral Law, which belongs solely to the Jews. The sages understood the words of Balaam, “God is not a man, that he should lie” (Num. 23:19) as pointing to the clear distinction between God and man: should a man come and say, I am God, that man is lying! They interpreted the verse in the Song of Songs “Look not upon me, that I am swarthy” (1:6) as the words of the Jewish nation to the world, which explain the hatred towards the Jewish people. The verse “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts” (Isa. 6:3) was interpreted by the sages as referring to the holiness of God who is in the heavens, on earth and in the future, thus rejecting the Christian interpretation that the verse is referring to the Trinity. The important place of the verse “Hear, O Israel… the Lord is One” (Deut. 6:4) in Jewish liturgy was apparently intended to emphasize the oneness of God and thus negate the Christian Trinity. In addition, the reading of chapters of the Prophets in the synagogue, Haftara's (Heb.: Haftarot), reflects a distancing from chapters which the Christians regarded as the foundation stones of their faith.

The traditional understanding of the transaction between Yahweh and the Satan in the prologue to the book of Job is that this constitutes a test of Job’s faith, one which the Satan initiates but Yahweh allows as the Satan’s superior. This understanding supports the omnipotence of Yahweh, but raises several other theological questions, as well as a number of literary and legal ones. For instance, this view may well challenge both Yahweh’s omniscience and his omnibeneficience. Moreover, this reading does not readily account for the presence of the dialogues, the plethora of legal metaphors throughout the book, and the distinct nature of the Elihu speeches. This paper will argue that the Satan brings a formal legal charge against Job in the Divine Council with which Yahweh must deal juridically in order to maintain his position as the creator and maintainer of cosmic justice. God does not impose the suffering on Job nor agree with its usefulness. This is the Satan's claim, and, once it is proven incorrect, Job's fortunes are reinstated in a manner that does not support the idea of retributive justice, but rather God's restorative justice. The paper concludes that a reading of the book of Job that is sensitive to the legal materials of the book reveals that the book may well represent a far different theology and theological anthropology than has previously been thought. It may, in fact, disclose a profound divine trust in humanity that foreshadows the atoning work of Christ.

This paper, as the first paper in this panel, will introduce and summarize briefly the work of Raymond Westbrook, who has long articulated the view that the theory and methods of ancient Near Eastern science informed ancient legal science, generally, and the construction of the so-called law codes of the ancient Near Eastern and early classical world, specifically. His view is that the codes are in the nature of legal treatises, based on case law, and that they reflect an ancient Near Eastern common law that informs all the codes. This idea, then, informs his legal hermeneutic. The paper will subsequently set Westbrook’s view within the context of modern legal science or philosophy. How one understands the nature of law broadly is of critical import to how one understands the history of law. It is this paper’s view that the varying disagreements regarding the development of the ancient law codes, their nature, and import for ancient Near Eastern law, all reflect different modern theories of the nature of law and its development. The paper goes on to argue that Westbrook should be placed in the philosophical camp of analytical legal philosophers, all of whom are based, at least in part, on the work of Wittgenstein and that this Wittgensteinian legal philosophy informs his legal historical views and methods. The paper concludes that Wittgenstein’s non-Aristotelian philosophy as applied to legal history may well be a most helpful tool in understanding legal science before Plato and Aristotle came on the scene.

The loss of a city often amounts to a communal tragedy that changes the life of several generations of inhabitants. Like in New Orleans, such a loss of space also generates stories, images, and songs about the place before and after disaster struck. The paper will present the Book of Lamentations as a witness to catastrophe, which became a “literature of survival” (Tod Linafelt). My thesis is that the female personification of Zion/Jerusalem in Lamentations revives people’s memory by effectively creating a close relationship between the city and its population.

This paper relates the imperial cult and the civic ideals associated with it to the treatment of women in the Pastorals. It builds on recent work (D’Angelo, Balch, MacDonald, Osiek, Winter) demonstrating the degree to which the Pastorals’ Household Codes reflect Greco-Roman domestic ideals. It extends these arguments by showing how the Pastorals’ representations of ecclesial and domestic harmony deploy language characteristic of imperial rhetorical treatments of the theme, Concord, and its opposite, Strife. Comparison with the Pastorals of roughly contemporary treatments by Dio Chrysostom, Aelius Aristides, and Plutarch of homonoia and eris reveal the degree to which the letters draw on the language and metaphors that celebrate civic order and censure discord. The Pastorals’ ideal audience belongs to well-ordered households and display virtues that promote concord, with each member regulated in behaviour and speech. In contrast, its opponents reveal the vices characteristic of civic strife and faction. Imperial titles and language to describe Jesus are evidence of the use of these topoi, and together with the Pastorals’ commandments to pray for and be submissive to imperial rulers, combine to urge a civic Christian identity that encouraged the letters’ audience to participate in the renewal of civic life characteristic of the Julio-Claudian, Flavian, and Trajanic periods. Gender performances that typify political concord promote that renewal. In their representations of women in concord and strife the Pastorals offer a picture of the imperial wife idealized in imperial iconography. The letters’ ideals concerning women and wives are at home in a civic world bathed in political imagery celebrating the good emperor’s household and wife as emblematic of imperial concord. Like the imagery celebrating the imperial family around them, the Pastorals’ ideal women are pictures of harmony.

The paper will explore the tenuous relationship between the priesthood, empire and population of Jerusalem. It focuses on the role of the priesthood in forging a new identity for the people of Jerusalem by deploying signifiers that create a collective historical memory and encourage investment in the Persian imperial program.

In this paper, I will investigate several possible examples of lexical choices informed by knowledge of Aramaic in OG and the Three. Most of the examples will come from Ecclesiastes, and Hebrew poetic texts.

This study proposes to examine the rhetorical topic lists of the ancient classroom for the potential insights they may lend into the Second Gospel’s portrait of Jesus. Such lists, which ancient Greco-Roman students learned upon entering the third and highest level of education, offer promise for such an investigation in several regards. First, the lists taught the educated the constituent parts of the human personality as imagined in the Greco-Roman world—the “headings” or “topoi” by which a life was to be divided in literate discourse. Hence the lists can help familiarize the modern reader with a manner of dividing the human personality that is likely to be encountered in the literature of the period, and one that is likely culturally foreign to that reader. Second, the lists taught the educated the values and standards by which a person would be deemed worthy of “praise.” Indeed, the lists served as a rubric by which a topic-by-topic assessment of a person could be made, and they were accompanied by commentary and examples of topics illustrating both the content of the topic and the specific characteristics the culture deemed praiseworthy. Hence the lists help illustrate for the modern reader a manner and meaning of “praise” that, again, is both culturally foreign and likely to be encountered in the literature of the period. Third, and perhaps most importantly, the lists were learned by the educated as compositional templates for all genres of discourse, both oral and written, that present the human personality in its constituent parts. Thus the lists can potentially shed valuable light on the composition and structure of any topically ordered discourse. The Gospel of Mark, this study argues, is such a discourse, featuring not only a topical presentation of Jesus, but also following in its composition and structure a topical outline.

Assuming the Christian group of Thessalonica to be a voluntary association of hand-workers, this paper argues that 1 Thessalonians in general, and especially the injunction to “keep quiet” (4:11), indicates Paul’s concern about how Roman rulers, Greek oligarchies, and city dwellers would perceive an association converted to an exclusive cult and eager to actively participate in the redistribution of the city resources. Paul therefore might have delivered precise counsel to become invisible and independent, to keep from being noticed and targeted as an illegal society, and to give up any progressive socio-political aspirations.

I will argue that the eternal covenant texts in Deutero and Trito Isaiah, while “everlasting,” are nonetheless conditional with regard to ultimate fulfillment, and that they reflect characteristics that are customary to the eternal covenants elsewhere in Scripture. It is possible as well that berit am in 42:6 and 49:8 is to be understood synonymously with berit olam (see the textual variant in 4QIsah, for instance) as the Servant fulfills the eternal covenant obligations. Mark Smith (JBL 1981) argues for berit olam/am, but I would be arguing for it for different reasons. The eternal covenant texts of Isaiah such as these and others (e.g. Isa 24:5; Isaiah 54-55:3ff., 59:21) form a context for understanding the conditional nature of the covenant in Isaiah 61:8 and its fulfillment as a sort of culmination of various eternal covenant ideas. While acknowledging that Isaiah has a complex compositional history, I would be reading Isaiah 61 in its final form as my primary context for interpretation. ‘Eternal Covenant’ is a main interest of mine as reflected in two recent publications (i.e. “’Eternal Covenant’ in the Pentateuch: The Contours of an Elusive Phrase” LHBOTS 494, 2008; and “Another Flood? Genesis 9 and Isaiah’s Broken Eternal Covenant” JSOT 32 (2007): 177-98).

This paper will be the first investigation of a very curious Armenian work that has been handed down under the name of Ephrem the Syrian. It can be considered Armenian Biblical Apocrypha as the text, found in many manuscripts, is found ONLY in biblical manuscripts. The paper will examine those biblical manuscripts in which the text is found, will try to determine why this text is included in them, as well as provide a first glance of its contents. After a discussion of the theological and historical value of the text, perhaps some initial suggestions can be made as to the actual provenance of this very interesting text.

Name-calling, or labelling, was and is an effective means of creating boundary markers and forming community identity. The sectarian documents found at the Qumran site demonstrate a sustained practice of using associative labels and sobriquets to make distinctions between the faithful community, as they understood it, and their opponents. In addition, some of the non-sectarian documents that were found at the site also demonstrate a similar practice, indicating this was a convention more widely circulating among Second Temple writers. One document in particular that employs significant labels for its enemies is the Epistle of Enoch. Interestingly, this same practice is shared by the author of the Book or Revelation, in particular with regard to his correspondence to the seven churches. Previous studies of this phenomenon have tended to focus on organizational terms that can be traced among the manuscript traditions of sectarian texts that define the leadership roles within the Qumran communities. What has not been discussed is how labels and sobriquets are employed across a variety of texts to discover if it is possible to identify different phases of community development. This essay examines both sectarian and non-sectarian documents from Qumran in order to ascertain the degree to which Second Temple writers demonstrate any coherent use of such devices in their writings. Moreover, attention is given to how these devices function within the development of a community’s identity. Finally, to the extent that the writer of the Book of Revelation shares in the implementation of these rhetorical devices and exhibits a decided concern for sectarian ideas, I compare what we can learn from the Second Temple texts with the Johannine Apocalypse to see if it is possible to surmise if and where the Book of Revelation might fit into the trajectory of sectarian formation.

In Paul Ricoeur’s work Time and Narrative, he considers the poetic act of emplotment as involving at once three aspects of mimesis: M1 is that aspect which reflects reality, M2 is the truly creative aspect of imitation which “re-presents” reality within a poetic form, and M3 involves the rhetorical or persuasive turn in the muthos (or plot) of a narrative work. In this construction, Ricoeur considers M2 to be critical because it mediates between the stark imitation of reality (M1), and the intentional effort of the rhetorical purpose (M3). The creative nature of the plotting devices, including aspects of narrative time, can thus be understood as functioning in this mediating role. Narrative time, including duration and point of view or perspective, is an essential feature by which an author represents (or re-presents) a view of the world. The interplay of these elements of mimesis is striking in the Gospel of John. Perhaps no other gospel is as apparent in its rhetorical use of narrative time, both in terms of constructing events and in the use of varied “points of view” of narrative time. The construction of the narrative time around festival seasons, of iterative “signs,” the slow advancement of time in the discourses, and especially the periodic critical observations by the narrator that are clearly from a post-resurrection perspective, all indicate a manifest rhetorical objective (“that you may believe”). At the level of the unfolding drama of the plot, the Fourth Evangelist has often been seen as highly creative. And indeed John’s developing plot, in which the increasing conflict between his self-revelation and the opposition of “the Jews” at once supports the rhetorical purpose of the gospel, and yet also presents a reality which is compelling. In this paper I explore, under the influence of Ricoeur and Gerard Gennette, how the 4th Gospel uses narrative time to both create a pleasing and realistic muthos and to support the rhetorical purpose of the gospel. In the process I also find support for a relatively unified and holistic view of the narrative work of the evangelist—that is, that the overall use of narrative time suggests a consistent poetic effort.

What is proposed in this study is a methodological illustration of how an embedded dialogue such as that found in John 4:1-26 can be analyzed using a variety of social scientific techniques. In particular, this study of Jesus’ interaction with the Samaritan woman will focus on the critical examination of how dialogue partners orient and reorient themselves. By analyzing the successive stages in their dialogue at the well, it becomes clear that identity is the central focus of the narrative.

Variants within the biblical manuscripts have already proven fertile ground for extrapolating ancient scribal habits and re-membering theological developments. They may also contribute to our understanding of the responses of the ancient audience to the biblical narrative. The untrained hearer of the biblical story and the skilled scribe trusted as a copyist were separated, certainly, by education among other things. Both, however, experienced the narrative, and responded, perhaps in similar ways. The biblical text was written with the audience in mind. Evidence from ancient rhetorical handbooks reveals that ancient authors and rhetors carefully considered the audience as they composed. As part of that consideration, authors used various tools to encourage audience participation through 1) attention and 2) creation of story with the author, leading to 3) moral formation. At the crossroads of these two ideas, I propose that early variants may preserve examples of one ancient audience’s response to the tools used by authors to encourage the audience’s participation. For this project, I intend to examine variants in Codex Bezae’s text of Acts, evaluating them based on six proposed tools used by ancient authors to encourage audience participation. My goal is to discover whether or not variants in D’s text of Acts imply 1) that these tools were used by the author of Acts, and 2) that the audience, in this case, a scribe(s), was responding to these tools in appreciable ways through what are now called Western interpolations. With this project, I hope to contribute to the ongoing discussion of audience criticism and the Bible, and address a literary/rhetorical aspect of textual criticism.

The second century CE is crucial in the history of religions of the Roman empire. While a number of ancient cults coming from peripheral regions gained an empire-wide importance, new forms of religiosity appeared on the imperial ‘religious market’. In this panorama Egypt was already playing an important role, as the success of Isis and Serapis demonstrate. The story of the death and transformation into a god of Antinoos fits this context well. Secondary literature on this topic tends either to concentrate on specific details of the complex episode, or to present it in the wider context of Hadrian's reign. This paper will approach the establishment and success of the cult of Antinoos in order to contribute to a better understanding of the evolution of Roman religions under the double impulse of center (Rome and the emperor) and peripheries (Egypt and other provinces). I will present a new analysis of the evidence, in particular: 1. the sources relating to the cult of Antinoos coming from Egypt or directly related to Egypt. 2. the literary sources regarding Hadrian's attitudes towards Egyptian religious matters, Judaism, and Christian groups. This will provide the opportunity to offer a new interpretation of episodes such as the restoration of the tomb of Pompey, which I see as related not only to the celebration of Roman tradition, but also to the memory of the Jewish war under Trajan. The success of the cult of Antinoos has been due to its capacity to take many different shapes in the different contexts of the Roman empire. The analysis of this success will shed new lights on early Christianity under two points of view: 1. The parting of the ways between Judaism and Christianity; 2. The historical context in which Christianity came to be part of the Roman religious panorama.

Patristic and medieval authors interpreted Jewish and Christian scriptures in a way that allowed them to attribute to God the “Father” a variety of terms denoting female generation. In the Latin West, words such as vulva, uterus, conceptus, natus, parturio, and pario were seen as attributes of Deus Pater. For the theologians of such eras, scripture itself justified a striking linguistic blurring of sex/gender boundaries, as speech attempted to approach the incorporeal divinity in its fathering of a Son. Yet while commentators such as Ambrose, Augustine, Anselm, Bonaventure and Aquinas were not afraid to name the Son’s generation a nativitas or to speak of the Father’s vulva or uterus, prominent English translations today sometimes shy away from naming the Father with female terms. For example, to Latin speakers the “in sinu” of John 1:18 evoked the image of a womb and was understood to refer to the generative power of God the Father; but this tradition is obscured when “sinus” is uniformly translated as “bosom.” Similarly, words which can denote either female or male generation—such as gignere, generare, generatio, and genitus—are often translated by the masculine-specific word “to beget.” Perhaps more strikingly, words which primarily denote female generation—such as “natus”—are also translated as “begotten,” thus obscuring the patristic and medieval tradition which declared that there were “two births” of the Word of God: an eternal birth from God the Father and a temporal birth from the Virgin Mary. When female-specific and sex-neutral Latin words are translated with male-specific vocabulary, readers are likely to miss the breadth of meaning available in the Latin if they access these texts only through English translations.

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The Ugaritic sun goddess Shapsh has primarily been characterized as messenger. This project will: 1) work to problematize that widely held conception for the Ba‘al Cycle, and 2) suggest new features of Shapsh’s character by demonstrating her intimate relation to magic – in the Ba‘al Cycle and possibly KTU 1.161, 1.100, and 1.107 as well. An important part of the Ba‘al Cycle is the commissioning-of and instruction-to messengers; the text explicitly specifies what should be said when one figure speaks on behalf of another. Shapsh, however, breaks this precedent when she references El in her larger moves to deter Athtar and Mot from pursuing kingship (CAT 1.2 III 17-18 and KTU 1.6 VI 26-29). With these interjections Shapsh portends to be relaying the message of El without ever being sanctioned by him to do so. Her words go unqualified by the source who was supposed to have originally spoken them, and yet are entirely effective. I will suggest that the authority behind Shapsh’s statements came not from El, but from her abounding capacity as spell-caster. Shapsh’s discouragement of Mot from duplicating tactics that clearly worked for Ba‘al when he sought kingship is a peculiar development in the Ba‘al Cycle. Another tension comes from Athirat’s disdain and yet support of Ba‘al as king. The ways in which magic enabled a deconstruction of the myth’s previously set norms will be explored, and will lead to an acknowledgement that Shapsh undergirded any success that Ba‘al had in his epic. Lastly, Shapsh’s semiotic relationship with Mot will be treated as a crucial facet of her power, and KTU 1.161, 1.100, and 1.107 will be brought in to evaluate whether or not my magically-informed understanding of Shapsh holds across texts. I will also entertain the conjectural possibility that Shapsh related to El as secondary wife.

It has been stated in Matthean literary studies that there is no room for suspense in Matthew’s plot line. The movement of the Gospel of Matthew is therefore interpreted as being plainly laid out in the dream narrative of 1:20-25; as the gospel progresses, the oracle continues being fulfilled, admittedly with some resistance. However, the narrative is not as straight forward as typically interpreted. Drawing upon the literary theory of Meir Sternberg, it will be shown how suspense, curiosity and surprise are used to maintain the reader’s interest in the Matthean narrative: 1) Suspense – The salvific oracle does not seem to receive fulfillment in the narrative, in contrast with the reader’s expectation. First, the leaders and elders of the people, then the crowds, and finally the disciples seem to disqualify themselves from the kingdom of heaven when their actions and words are compared with the requirements of Jesus’ discourses. 2) Curiosity - As the narrative unfolds and the suspense builds, one wonders how the oracle is to be fulfilled. 3) Surprise – The reader, at the end of the gospel, is called back to the first salvific oracle in order to reread it through the ancient lens of irony where “people” is redefined. Irony in this paper is defined not by modern concepts but by the way in which the ancient orators Cicero, Pseudo- Dionysius and others have defined it, notably “as the opposite of what is being said,” leading to an alleviation of the suspense and curiosity. The plot line of Matthew, interpreted in this way, becomes much more complex than is commonly assumed.

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This poster will focus on relative time in the Greek participle. It will summarize both the traditional understanding of Greek grammarians that tense-forms are used for relative time and S. Porter’s new view that the order of the participle in relation to the primary verb indicates relative time (Porter 1992). These two theories will be evaluated by interacting with two recent studies of the adverbial participles in Mark and Luke by R. Picirilli (2007 and forthcoming). They will also be evaluated by a study of the adverbial participles in Galatians, 1 Peter, and perhaps Romans, adding evidence from a different genre. This genre-specific study is important in order to evaluate Wallace’s tentative suggestion that the aorist participle “is more frequently contemporaneous in the epistles than in narrative literature” (Wallace 1996: 614, n. 2). The poster will likely conclude against S. Porter’s theory of order and in favor of a chastened form of the traditional understanding. It will also include practical suggestions for how to teach relative time in the Greek participle.

Discussion of early Christian Eucharistic meals often involves consideration of whether and how these were sacrificial. There is a difficulty, however, in positing any unitary notion of “sacrifice,” or of how meals were related to cultic acts such as ritual slaughter, as a presumed common horizon of interpretation for early Christian communities. Although there are signs that general ideas of sacrifice were being developed at this time, culturally-specific theories and practices from the ancient world actually need greater attention. Historical, anthropological and theological challenges to unitary notions of ancient sacrifice need to be pursued in at least two ways for the interpretation of early Christian meals. First, the varied forms and theories of Israelite cultus, as developed in the practice of the Second Temple and responses to it, need to be acknowledged as a dynamic interpretive complex which does not imply a single idea or practice called “sacrifice.” Second, the ubiquitous but varied cultic activity in the Greco-Roman world beyond Judaism was a strong if ambivalent frame of reference for the emergence of Christian use of “sacrificial” language for its meals, and for its theology generally; eucharistic practice was experienced and developed in close relation to this “pagan” sacrificial context also. These two strands of theory and practice amounted to a matrix of significance for cultic meals, which early Christian authors and practitioners inhabited and then adapted further, creating rather than assuming a more coherent set of sacrificial theologies, but also retaining more diverse and complex nuances than are usually acknowledged. This paper considers this matrix in relation to three key texts: 1 Corinthians, the Didache and the Letters of Ignatius of Antioch.

Rita Ciceri (2001) has characterised seduction as comprising many different behavioural patterns and types of communication initiated by the would-be seducer. She lists: paradoxical exhibition, approaching the would-be partner, deepening reciprocal knowledge between the partners, all of which combine to create a communication whose content is relatively undefined but moves and changes through time in terms of sequence, frequency, synchronisation and simultaneity. She further claims that it is this lack of definition in the forms of discursive obliquity, in the multimodal message and the nonverbal synchronization that makes seductive communication tantalizing, leaving much to the other’s imagination, and thus hinting at pleasurable possibilities in the future. One person seeks to alter the course of the other’s life to include a closer interaction than already envisaged. She also, however, generally characterises the seducer as male. Using her theoretical insights this paper will analyse those close encounters portrayed in Hebrew Bible narratives that may be classed as seductions, or failed seductions, e.g. those between Judah and Tamar, Potiphar’s wife and Joseph, Ruth and Boaz and David and Abigail to analyse just who is seducing whom or whether seductions may be mutually personally intrusive.

The notion that Galilee was a home of ongoing ideological armed resistance to Roman rule has few advocates today. Yet some of the glimpses that survive regarding Galilean life from the early Roman period continue to present us with puzzles. Why did Varus destroy Sepphoris in 4 BCE? Why is a Judas the Galilean identified as leading the call to resist the imposition of direct Roman taxes? Why was there such ardent resistance to Rome during the war in places like Jotapata and Tarichaeae? This paper will re-examine some of the key examples of Roman-Jewish interaction in Galilee in order to consider if any patterns can be identified, in terms of the way the Romans behaved and for how the Galileans behaved.

The present study seeks to understand the motifs of life and death by the use of distinct categories of time, space and movement occurring in Proverbs. Five specific functions of time, space and movement are considered, including (1) change of focus in the speech and guide to the reader; (2) expression of inner feelings or conditions of a character which are not easily observable in a written text; (3) interaction of specific and non-specific references which helps the reader to think in abstract terms; (4) connection of different spheres of society, thus reflecting the very fabric of biblical anthropology; and (5) vehicle to signal a change of identities and/or modes of behavior. In a form of a pilot project, these categories are then applied to Proverbs 2:1-22; 5:1-23; 7:1-27.

Issues of Alexandrian philology on Homer have influenced Jewish exegetes like Demetrius and Philo, but also Christian exegetes like Origen. Christian reading of Psalms as related to Jesus Christ is by no means a proper method of interpretation in our times but – that is the main thesis of my paper - does not imply a full break between Christian and Greco-Roman exegesis. Moral critique, prosopographic exegesis, and the counterbalancing of contradictions are tasks for ancient Christian interpretation of the Bible in analogy to ancient philology on Homer; and this kind of exegesis was necessary for Christian authors in order to give answers to ancient critics of Christianity. This paper will offer examples for each of these issues.

This paper examines the role of divine mediation in the rise of civilization in Mesopotamian literature, the lack thereof in Genesis 1-11, and the return of divine mediation in Jewish apocalyptic literature. A brief survey of Mesopotamian literature shows that civilization was understood to have originated by divine means. The specific means varied from the use of divine intermediaries to the direct creation of aspects of civilization by the gods and their bestowal of humanity. In Gen 1-11, by contrast, civilization does not arise through divine means. There are no divine mediators, and God does not play any role in the development of the arts of civilization. The primary texts analyzed are Gen 4:17-22; 10:8-12; 11:1-9, all of which are consistent in presenting the rise of civilization as the work of humans without divine assistance. The absence of divine mediation of civilization is further highlighted by a brief examination of the return of the mythological motif of divine instruction in the arts of civilization in Jewish apocalyptic literature. 1 Enoch and Jubilees follow roughly the same pattern as the one found in Mesopotamian myths, with civilization arising from the teachings of the Watchers.The key to the absence of the divine instruction motif in Gen 1-11 is the reception of forbidden divine knowledge by humans in the Eden story of Gen 3. The developments in Gen 4-11 are the working out of the divine knowledge obtained by Adam and Eve. This association between civilization and the forbidden divine knowledge obtained in Eden colors civilization in Gen 4-11 negatively. The result is that responsibility for civilization, and the evils which accompany it, is shifted to humans. In the post-exilic era, divine mediation returns as part of a broader phenomenon of the resurfacing of early myths in apocalyptic literature and should be understood as an attempt to address the problem of evil by once again shifting responsibility back to the divine (i.e., demonic) realm.

I'd like to present portions of my translation of Nahman Krochmal's Guide A Guide for the Perplexed of These Times (to be published by University Press of America) to show how Krochmal (1785-1840) was a radical exegete in traditional garb. Krochmal,a Galician businessman and an Orthodox Jew,sought to remould his generation's reading of the past in the same way that Moses Maimonides (1135-1204) tried to re-read the Jewish past in a palatable way in his day. Both Maimonides and Krochmal were daring and influential midrashic masters and I'd like to show how they influence the study the study of midrash.

Carl Schneider’s exegetical works on Revelation reveal the growing influence of Nazi-ideology on German New Testament scholarship. Carl Schneider (1900-1977), who was an assistant professor for New Testament at Wittenberg College in Springfield, Ohio (1928) and a professor in Riga and Königsberg (1929-1945), wrote his Habilitationsschrift on “Die Erlebnisechtheit der Apokalypse des Johannes” (Leipzig 1930). This work was inspired by the Gestalt-psychological theory of Felix Krueger. It is free of any anti-Semitism and recognizes the Jewish-apocalyptic roots of the Apocalypse of John. This changed when Nazism became powerful. Being a member of the NSDAP since 1933 and of the “Entjudungsinstitut” in Eisenach, Schneider defined Christianity as an “anti-Semitic movement” from the very outset and the New Testament as a “genuinely Hellenistic book”. In 1936 he drew the conclusions from these convictions for the interpretation of Christian apocalyptic literature in an essay titled “Antike Apokalyptik als Geschichtsphilosophie”. His platonic exegesis which characterizes the Apocalypse of John as “completely un-Jewish” is still to be found in works which were published after World War II.

The following paper considers the account of the concubine in Judges 19 in light of subaltern studies and Giorgio Agamben’s Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life. The study of Judges 19 within the purview of the political disciplines, particularly discussions of economic distribution, modes of operation, kinship models, and issues of citizenship and social class, increase the fullness of the biblical account. The four sections of this paper include comparison of Judges 19 and the familial mode of production; discussion of the term pîlegeš and Gayle Rubin’s “exchange of women”; explication of sacrifice and Agamben’s work on bare life as it pertains to the concubine; and a comparison of subaltern and bare life constructions. This paper contends that the concubine in Judges 19 is a bare life figure: one who exists beneath the social stratum designated as subaltern, whose body is not sacrificed, yet is expendable without consequence.

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Baruch is not specifically a member of the Twelve Prophets but he did go on to achieve prophetic status and contained within the book named after him is a section seen as wisdom literature. Our author, borrowing from previous wisdom motifs offers a unique understanding that is only recorded in Greek and often misread by modern commentators. It is this perspective that will be explored and a new conclusion offered about what the point of his reworked presentation of older motifs was. Wisdom itself is secondary to his interest. He is offering an insight into "Way Theology" that caters more to Rabbinic interests and less to Early Christian interests as has been the consensus of scholarship.

Rachel’s Biblical history is framed & punctuated by Masseboth, trees, pillars, Cairns & towers. These figures are abundant & unique to Rachel’s story. Save for the tamarisk Abraham plants at Beer-sheva before calling upon G-d (Gen. 21:33), there are few symbols of the Ashera in the Early History. This sudden efflorescence in the wake of Rachel’s journey to her death is beyond coincidence. Seemingly, Rachel as mother of the royal lines of both Northern & Southern Kingdoms is associated with Ashera. Jacob’s incubation dream (Gen 28:10-20) joining him to G-d at the ramp to heaven, takes place at Luz (“almond tree”) just before he meets Rachel. Asherim appear when Rachel separates from Padam-Aram at Galeed (Gen. 31:51). A cairn—a pile of stones (gal ’ed)--and a massebah mark the spot. According to Olyan the symbol of the presence of an Ashera is usually a tree, a trunk, a pillar, upright stone (Massebah), or Cairn. Ashera (plural: Asheroth or Asherim) is a common title (or possibly the name) for the female half of Israel’s paramount divine couple & of her icons. Trees, pillars, or their symbolic abstractions (such as the Temple Menorah, a stylized almond tree) indicate Ashera’s presence at Hebrew cultic sites. Ordinary trees & pillars are not often remarked upon in Holy Writ, where every word is freighted with meaning for the ages. We should not expect descriptions of ordinary trees & pillars, lovely as they might be. Rachel’s voyage, beginning with her declaration (Gen. 31:35) that she is “in the way of women” at Galeed & ending with the pillar marking her grave—a shrine to this day—signals the elevation of the royal family to the status of divine. This paper explores the sanctification of Rachel, her descendents & their connection to Israel’s hidden godhead.

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The hymns interspersed throughout the Book of Revelation (rather like numbers in a musical) appear at first glance to reflect upon the action of the particular scene in which they are found, or the narrative plot thus far. So, in the investiture of the Lamb in the throne room scene of chapter 5, the elders and living creatures sing about the worthiness of the Lamb (5.9-10). However, this paper will argue that the hymns of Revelation not only presuppose the complete narrative of the entire drama, but taken together create a discourse that promotes a reading of the Apocalypse in which the reader is encouraged to gaze upon the subjects of violence: the martyrs and the damned. Revelation’s hymnal highlights the martyrs as a distinctive group, both in terms of the subject and singers of hymns. The hymnic material promotes a reading of martyrdom not as passive resistance, but by creating an alternative narrative world to that offered by Rome, presents martyrs as key and active participants in the Lamb's violent judgement of the wicked. The hymns of Revelation therefore encourage an interpretation of both martyrdom and apocalyptic judgement which render non-violent readings of the Apocalypse near impossible.

The vocative in Biblical Hebrew has been described as syntactically “in apposition to a second-person pronoun, expressed or unexpressed,” but a modifying phrase or clause after a vocative “regularly uses the third-person pronoun” (Waltke and O’Connor 1990:77). This description, however, does not elaborate upon the variation that we find with both second-person and third-person pronominal reference within vocatives. This paper reconsiders pronominal reference within vocative expressions with special attention to three syntactic environments. First, when kol with a pronominal suffix occurs as part of a vocative, pronominal reference to the person addressed may be second person (e.g., Isa 14:29, Judg 20:7) or third person (e.g., Mic 1:2; 1 Kgs 22:28). Second, when a relative clause occurs within a vocative expression, pronominal reference to the addressee may be second person (e.g., Isa 51:17; Dan 9:12) or third person (e.g., Zeph 2:3; Dan 9:4). Finally, participles, which inherently do not have agreement features for person, play a pivotal role between second person and third person reference when they occur within vocatives expressions.

This paper examines Paul’s letter to the Philippians in light of George Hunsberger’s fourfold “mapping” of recent approaches to missional hermeneutics (http://gocn.org/resources/articles/proposals-missional-hermeneutic-mapping-conversation). Hunsberger characterizes these approaches under the rubric of four questions: What is the story of the biblical narrative and how does it implicate us? What is the purpose of the biblical writings in the life of its hearers? How shall the church read the Bible faithfully today? What guides our use of the received tradition in the context before us? Like Hunsberger, I do not see these approaches as mutually exclusive. Rather, they represent mutually informative queries into the interplay of divine purposes, ecclesiology and Scripture. How that interplay works out and which questions will come to the fore (or recede) in the interpretive process will depend on the particular biblical writing in focus as well as interpretive context of the interpreters. The paper consists of three parts. First, I briefly summarize both my understanding of the argument Philippians in its social-cultural context as well as our ecclesial location in an increasingly post-Christian West. Secondly, I investigate Philippians using Hunsberger’s four questions heuristically, comparing and contrasting the fruitfulness of each as an interpretive approach for this particular letter. The results illustrate how the nature of Philippians itself foregrounds certain missional emphases yet, at the same time, provides fertile ground for all four approaches. The paper concludes, finally, with brief reflections on socializing students and the church into interpreting Scripture missionally.

Primary evidence for earliest Jewish-Christian relations comes from the letters of Paul. In particular, Paul’s statements regarding his own heritage, whether they be about the Mosaic law or his own past, have shaped subsequent Jewish-Christian relations in countless ways with decidedly mixed results. But the more accurate our understanding of Paul’s views become, the more reliable becomes not only our ability to assess those views, but also our capacity to evaluate his later interpreters. This paper frames Paul’s controversial statements about his own Jewish heritage within concepts drawn from the modern study of collective identity. Collective identity is not a static phenomenon. It changes through time as groups encounter new circumstances that necessitate modification of existing self-understandings. Identity maintenance, therefore, requires both continuity and discontinuity as new permutations of identity become negotiated on the basis of old. The negotiation process, however, may be brutal as cherished symbols of identity undergo redefinition. Paul’s convictions concerning Jesus’ resurrection was the new circumstance that triggered his reassessment YHWH’s dealings with Israel. As a result, Paul’s existing understanding of Israel and the symbols that embodied that collective identity came under scrutiny and reformulation, though not abandonment. Some of Paul’s fellow Jews, however, found Paul’s teaching a threat, opposing Paul sometimes violently. In Paul’s letters we overhear one voice in the ongoing process of identity formation as opposition forces Paul to cast his thoughts in context-specific ways in light of his understanding of Jesus’ resurrection, his apostolic calling, his developing conceptions of God and Israel, and the particular challenges afforded by his opponents. From the perspective of modern analysis of collective identity, therefore, Paul’s letters are highly contextual utterances forged in the heat of ongoing negotiations over self-identity. The paper concludes with observations about how such an approach to Paul should influence how Paul is used in discussions of early Jewish-Christian relations.

Resources for the archaeology of ritual in Iron I highland Israel are scarce – incense burners, a few probable shrines, and small figurines. This paper catalogs the known cultic objects, noting both analogies from surrounding cultures and broad ethnographic data. These parallels combine with the evidence of faunal remains from the Israelite shrines to reveal a remarkable new picture of early Israelite ritual. The statuary, burners, and deer cranial bones suggest a shamanism, which is also directly suggested by an anthropological reading of the economy and settlement patterns of the Israelite settlement. This is the popular religion abundantly evident within the biblical text in a number of early psalms and other poems, not wholly displaced by later standardization of Yahwism.

This paper explores the ways in which respectable women preserve the honour of the church in the public setting of the synagogue and the private space of the household. When Paul teaches in the synagogue of Thessalonica many people are persuaded including "not a few of the leading women." Similarly, many people believe in Paul's teaching in the synagogue in Beroea including "not a few women of high standing." These women do not have any role as disciples but they are introduced into the narrative in order to demonstrate the respectability of Paul's teaching in the public place of the synagogue. In other passages, however, the private space of the household is threatened by the mission of the church. In Acts 12 Mary provides a meeting place for the church in her household, and she is willing to welcome Peter, an escaped prisoner. Luke emphasises that Peter is innocent because he has been miraculously released from prison by an angel. In Acts 16 Lydia could be regarded as disreputable because she invites Paul to stay at her house. Luke stresses that she only invites Paul once she has been baptised, and she also beseeches Paul to judge her faithfulness to the Lord. When Paul and Silas escape from prison, they also go to Lydia's home. Mary and Lydia both support men who have been arrested by the authorities welcoming them to the private space of the household. In both passages Luke stresses that the men have been miraculously released from prison. The Book of Acts reveals tensions between Christians and the Roman authorities, and the church may be viewed as disreputable. For these reasons the respectability of women is employed to demonstrate that the mission of the church is not subversive.

Pedro Almodóvar is known to have grown up in a traditional Catholic environment, from which he then distanced himself (see La mala educación [2004]). His films nevertheless display implicit biblical motives, i.e., narrative techniques and themes that can be traced back to biblical stories: the repetition of dysfunctional behaviors from generation to generation (Volver [2006]); disguised and hidden identities (Todo sobre mi madre [1999]) and La mala educación); sexual intercourse with a “sleeping” partner (Hable con ella [2002]); and the return of supposedly dead people (Volver); to name only a few. My paper will explore these motives, show their biblical parallels, and reflect on their functions in the films in which they appear.

This paper is a comparative analysis of the concepts of “earth” as a geographic term and as a socio-political term in Haggai-Zechariah and the inscriptions of Darius the Great. Clarisse Herrenschmidt (1976) has argued that while the words “land/people” (dahayu-) and “kingdom” (xšaça-) were used in the Bisitun inscription to describe the area under Darius’ rule, his later texts used a new word to describe the vastness of his dominion. This word “earth” (bumi-), previously meaning “land, soil”, and used as the counterpart to “heavens/sky”, now came to have the meaning of “empire”. In Haggai-Zechariah, the Hebrew word ???, while still linked with place-names in such phrases as ????????? (e.g., Zech 2:4), may be read when it stands alone as a counterpart to Darius’ bumi-. As such, the Hebrew texts use the rhetoric of Persian texts in order to counterpoise the Persian Great King with the divine king Yhwh. However, by adopting this imperial rhetoric, these prophetic books divorce the concept of the land from the people who inhabit it. This move undoes the link between people, land and Yhwh that is so important in earlier prophetic texts. Geographic space is re-oriented from local connections with land to universal connections with Yhwh’s created order.

The name Bedan (1 Sam 12:11; cf. 1 Chr. 7:17) is a famous crux of Hebrew onomasticon. This otherwise unknown figure is mentioned as one of the judges, but no story about him is included in the biblical canon, and his mentioning raises many linguistic, literary and historical questions. Numerous emendations were proposed in order to wipe this problem out of the Hebrew text. However, new evidence from Qumran Hebrew shed light on the linguistic aspect of this problem. In both the War Scroll and the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice one finds the noun BDN. It was correctly translated as ‘form, figure’, even though its etymology and grammatical form were never fully clarified. The paper will establish the etymology and form of this lexeme, discuss its semantic development, and explore its implications for the interpretation of the biblical proper name.

In this paper, I would like to explore how midrashic texts portray the world and people of ancient Persia, as well as the Jews who lived during the Achaemenid era (Ezra, Nehemiah, etc.). Part of a larger project, this paper will eventually assist me in comparing these depictions with those in the Babylonian Talmud in the hopes of gaining a better understanding of the differences between Palestinian and Babylonian representations of Iranian Jewish life. My approach to these midrashim will be primarily literary, though historical considerations and contexts will also serve useful. I believe that this topic might also fit in well with the secnod panel on "the culture of memory," in which I would be happy to participate.

This joint paper would take a long defamiliarizing look at that oddest of academic animals, the "biblical scholar," with due attention to its origins, evolution, and attempted self-mutations. The paper would aim to entertain as well as inform. Its successive sections would treat "The biblical sub-sub-sub-specialist," "Civil servants of the biblical text," and other such topics. Despite and by means of the levity, however, a serious argument would be advanced. Contemporary biblical scholarship, it would be argued, even those developments within it that most readily invite the label “postmodern(ist),” is still fundamentally predetermined and contained by the Enlightenment episteme that spawned it, and far more than is generally realized. The Bible of contemporary biblical scholarship remains the Enlightenment Bible. Despite the alleged “fragmentation” of the historical-critical paradigm associated with the recent multiplication of methods, the apparent radicalization of method, and the intensification of interdisciplinarity, no fundamental rupture of the biblical-scholarly episteme has yet occurred, we would contend, comparable to that which brought the discipline into being in the first place.

The phrase "the elements of the cosmos" in Gal 4:3 has long puzzled interpreters, but one thing that most agree on is that the phrase refers to Jews and Gentiles alike in their existence prior to Christ’s coming. On the majority reading, Paul describes the condition of all people in thrall to these elements before the sending of the Son. The focus of this paper is not so much the identity of the elements as it is the question of who is subject to them in Gal 4:3. I will argue for a minority reading that in Gal 4:3 Paul is actually describing himself and his fellow Jews rather than humanity as a whole. The clue to this identification is his use of the word "infant" in Gal 4:1. The paper will argue that Paul’s use of this image evokes several themes present in the OT Prophets, particularly Hosea and Ezekiel, which describe Israel’s infancy: when Israel was a child or infant, the nation was subservient to idols; Israel fell into this idolatry despite its covenantal relationship with the LORD; moreover, some of these texts promise redemption for Israel resulting in a relationship in which God “knows” Israel (see, e.g., Hos 11:12; cf. Gal 4:9). Such a reading of Gal 4:3 as referring to Israel rather than to all human beings follows a pattern that recurs in Galatians in which the redemption of Israel from the curse in turn leads to the redemption of Jew and Gentile alike in Christ and makes better sense of the broader context of the verse.

Philo devotes considerable attention to the biblical patriarch, Abraham, who appears in 19 of his treatises; however, nature and function of the figure of Abraham has not been the focus of scholarly attention in any significant way since the 1956 publication of Samuel Sandmel’s monograph, Philo’s Place in Judaism: A Study of the Conceptions of Abraham in Jewish Literature, and that work largely limited its discussion to the portrait of Abraham found in the biography, De Abrahamo. However, the figure of Abraham plays a central role in the allegorical treatises where Abraham represents the ordinary person who, not being blessed by birth with a perfect nature (as, for example, were the autodidaktoi, Moses and Isaac), must undergo a lengthy purification and training in order to overcome the passions and the influence of empirical thought and come home to God. This purification and training is symbolically represented by Abraham’s journey from Chaldea to Canaan, which Philo describes as the migration of the soul from the material realm to the intellectual or spiritual realm of God. As the allegorical interpretation of scripture stands at the heart of Philo’s thought, I believe a detailed examination of Philo’s allegorical portrait of Abraham and his migration will contribute important, new insights on many critical issues in our understanding of Philo. The role of ecstasy in Philo’s thought is one such issue. In this short paper I seek to demonstrate that the unexceptional person, in Philo’s view, cannot arrive at wisdom except through instruction, and the acquisition of instruction is portrayed in the migration of Abraham. This migration is, in turn, described as a process of self-abandonment, culminating in the abandonment of the subject’s own mind in ecstatic experience which so transforms that mind that it takes on a quality akin to divinity.

Discourse about spirit possession in early Christianity constructed subjectivities—representations of the self—to locate participants of early Christ cults in relation to the Roman Empire. Constructions of the self are political, social, economic. This paper will examine (1) how Paul used a discourse about possession by Jesus and rituals of apotheosis to create a subjectivity for believers inhabiting a mythic and ritual world of the crucified and resurrected Christ in relation to the political, social, and economic world of the Roman Empire, and (2) how this construction of self was transformed into the imperial subjectivity of the Paul of Acts who appeals to the emperor as judge of Christians.

This paper places three Qumran "parabiblical" works in the context of ancient Jewish practices of text collecting, and reconsiders the standards by which we judge their authoritative status. The Dead Sea Psalms Scroll, the Reworked Pentateuch and the Temple Scroll share a common scholarly fate: the status of all three texts has been hotly debated, and each has been described in a dizzying variety of ways. The Psalms Scroll has been called everything from a “library copy” or levitical “instruction book” to a “true scriptural psalter”; descriptions of 4QRP have ranged from a scribal interpretive work to an edition of the biblical Torah; and the Temple Scroll has been understood as a replacement Torah, a halakhic pseudepigraphon, or a sixth book of the Pentateuch. Although multiformity is a normal feature of second temple writings, it nevertheless puzzles scholars who attempt to define and categorize the texts as “scriptural” or “secondary,” but have no coherent criteria on where to draw the line. What is common to these arguments is that they are framed in relation to works that did later become canonical books, books that are implicitly the normative standard by which other texts are judged. This paper reconsiders this norm. I argue that these works should be assessed based not on their degree of textual similarity with a (later) canonical book, but on their function in the context of ancient Jewish cultural attitudes about writing and collecting sacred texts. I reconsider the concept of a “book” or a “text” in this period, together with the cultural practices of preserving and collecting writings. Based on both literary and material evidence for the way texts were imagined and produced, I argue that the standard of authority for the ancient community was not any particular authoritative book, but an ideal heavenly text, a body of divine instruction. “Psalms” and “Torah,” then, should not be considered as titles of definitive “books,” but fluid terms for types of divine revelation and heavenly text. Reorienting our criteria from a purely semantic textual approach, to a consideration of the symbolic function of books and collections, can help nuance the “bookish” language we use to describe this material, so we can better situate the texts in the context of their own communities.

In this paper I intend to reassess the neo-Assyrian evidence for the organization of the households of both the queen (MÍ.É.GAL) and queen mother (AMA.MAN and AMA.LUGAL) in order to establish a frame of reference for the interpretation of pertinent information in the Hebrew Bible. Modern theories on the position of the Judean queen mother or “mistress” (gebîrâ) have heavily drawn on these Assyrian sources, the bulk of which stems from the times of Esarhaddon and his mother Naqia. While it is undisputed that Naqia’s position at court was exceptional, for comparison with the biblical material individual and structural aspects of power have to be kept strictly apart, and the different nature of the biblical stories and extrabiblical material must be taken into account. Hence in my interpretation of the biblical material I will pay special attention to the partners of interaction of the queen (mother) and implicit command structures within the stories. While there is virtually no information about officials pertaining to the household of the Judean queen (mother), her roots within the Judean nobility (the 'am ha'are?) are an important factor. Finally, I will discuss whether or not the Judean queen mother had any oversight over the royal harem and what the role of the female overseer(s) (šakintu/sokenet) might have been therein.

The noun exousia in the Pauline Letters can mean 1. freedom of choice, right 2. capability, power 3. authority, absolute power, warrant. However, these meanings imply nuances that cannot always be rendered precisely, as right and authority intermingle with each other, and the first meaning encompasses the third. In the scholarly debate, most of the scholars render exousia in 1 Corinthians 9 as “right.” This paper analyses the five occurrences of exousia in 1 Corinthians 9 by examining Paul’s rhetoric and use of terms in the larger section of 8:1–9:24 to demonstrate that exousia in 1 Corinthians 9 is to be understood as “freedom” over against “right.” The paper attempts to show that in 1 Corinthians 9 the translation of exousia as “right” represents a projection of the language of our modern culture, which has to do with claims to legal or morally acceptable treatment, and which does not do justice to the logic of Paul’s discourse in the chapter discussed. The paper investigates the reasons why the concept of “right” opposes the very idea that Paul attempts to convince the Corinthians of, viz., that one should freely limit one’s freedom in the interest of the other Christians, just as Paul himself does. The paper analyses and evaluates the connections between, on the one hand, evxousi,a (liberty) in 1 Cor 8:9 and eleutheros (free) in 1 Cor 9:1 and 9:19 respectively, and, on the other hand, the relation between exousia in 8:9 and exousia in 9:4, 5, 6, 12, 18, to demonstrate that exousia in 1 Corinthians 9 means “freedom,” in the sense that Paul is free to, or that nothing impedes him to, “eat and drink” (9:4), “be accompanied by a believing wife” (9:5), etc., but he freely chooses not to exercise his freedom in this way for the sake of the others.

The book of Judges is a book that focuses much attention on women. Four of these women are named (Achsah, Deborah, Jael, and Delilah), while the others remain nameless, and the degree to which these women are allowed to speak within the narrative world of Judges varies greatly. This paper will focus on the use and function of direct discourse within the following women's narratives: Achsah (Judg 1), Deborah and Jael (Judg 4, 5), Jephthah’s daughter (Judg 11), Samson’s mother, his Timnite wife, and Delilah (Judg 13-16), and the unnamed woman of Judg 19. As it has often been observed, the status of women within the book serves as a kind of gauge that measures the relationship Israel has with its deity. This paper will, through the lens of discourse analysis, examine the discourses involving the female characters of the book and argue that these discourses parallel both the decline of ancient Israel’s relationship with its deity as well as the decline of ancient Israelite society as they are depicted in the book of Judges. This study will privilege discourse analysis because this method aids in the examination of the manner in which language is employed to construct a symbolic world through text and speech.

Since Wilhelm Dilthey's construction of hermeneutical theory, it has been typical to posit a distinction between two attitudes that can be adopted towards a text: "explanation" and "interpretation." Explanation utilizes a form of understanding derived from the natural sciences and maintains a positivistic posture in relation to the text, while interpretation utilizes a form of understanding derived from the human sciences and reflects a derivative, or "psychological" epistemology. In an attempt to make the relationship between these two attitudes "less contradictory and more fecund," Paul Ricoeur posits that when explanation and interpretation are understood as engendering in themselves a synthesis of objectivity and subjectivity, they are found also to overlap, being mutually dependent in an appropriate dialectic of reading. Explanation and interpretation both contain a simultaneous connection with a controlled set of criteria within textual analysis that pushes toward objectivity (scientific method) and a dynamic interaction between text and reader that pushes toward subjectivity (humanistic method). In this short paper I would like to test Ricoeur's restatement of the relationship between explanation and interpretation for its fecundity by applying his method to an ancient Christian text, the gospel of Mark. As Ricoeur is wont to observe (following the lead of Aristotle), literary genres such as myth, tragedy, and poetry engender the tendency of individuals to create (poiesis) a memory (mimesis) of human actions in a poetic and elevated manner and function to highlight life's aporias in their very makeup. Poetic writing engenders in its phenomenal identity the "limit situations" of existence (birth, death, sex, temporality, etc.) by purposefully juxtaposing ideas that may appear mutually exclusive. It highlights dissonance through the medium of dissonance. When read as a participant in this type of writing, Mark's gospel can be understood to create a similar situation. There is a mythical (that is, related to the genre of "myth") dissonance that one observes in its structural apparatus. This poetic function plays an important role in the formation of the community that reads Mark's gospel and, thereby, reconnects the text with the world of experience. As the reading community moves from an explanation of Mark's gospel into an appropriation of the poetic sense of the text, it finds itself confronted by claims that expand its identity and give its theological project a sense of plasticity.

It is in my opinion, that Paul, when using the word qriambeu/sav in Colossians 2:15 is using it with reference to the Roman Triumph. Paul is strategically placing Christ in the role of the victorious leader who has returned from a victorious campaign. For Paul, this campaign was the cross event. The cross event serves as the ultimate victory against the rulers and authorities which Christ publicly led in a triumphal procession. Here Christ is leading these captives behind him in an event that most of his audience would have been familiar with and possibly even seen.24 It is this word that conjures up a specific event for his audience. Thus, when Paul employs the use of qriambeu/sav he can be sure that his audience will pick up on the visually loaded word.

From the middle of the 17th century, British scholars and clergymen had lively discussions on beliefs and practices of the first Christians, drawing mostly upon Acts and the letters of Paul. In their writings, they were used to characterize the Jewish Jesus-believers obedient to the Torah as ”Jewish Christians”. It seems likely that this term was used already in the beginning of the century. However, as far as I can see, these authors were not inclined to apply the term ”Jewish Christians” to their “heretic” Christian contemporaries who imitated Jewish customs. There does not seem to be evidence for such a self-designation either. It seems that the theological term ”Jewish Christianity” was coined only by John Toland in his Nazarenus.

JBiblicalLegacyConverter (www.jblc.org) is a free Java based application that reads RTF (Rich Text Format) files. Expressions within those files, written with legacy fonts (like SPIonic, SPTiberian, SuperGreek, GraecaII, Bwgrkl etc.) are transformed into Unicode - and a new RTF file is created. With one click, (old ?) documents written with legacy fonts are technologically up-to-date in the Unicode standard. The software is developed with the help of the University of Applied Sciences of Berne/Switzerland. A beta version of the application was presented at the BibleTech:2009 conference in Seattle (March 2009). This paper gives a sketch of the project, the (implemented) features of the application, the features to come and asks the audience for further needs.

Whereas recent studies have correctly identified a clan-based social structure presumed in the place names of the Samaria Ostraca (Schloen, 2001; Niemann, 2008), the specific economic ramifications remain largely underdeveloped. An anthropological analysis of the commodities of “aged wine” (Suriano, 2007) and “fine oil” (Sasson, 1981; Stager, 1985) suggests that the economic significance of these items is closely tied to complex social interactions. Specifically, both archaeological and ethnographic studies associate such prestige commodities to elite feasting and ceremonial displays (Brumfiel, 1987, 1989; Sherratt, 1987, 1991, 1995). By recognizing the notions of status and value within these elite goods, the Samaria Ostraca point to a socially-embedded economy with elements of both redistribution and surplus.

Interpreters of Paul almost unanimously declare that Paul did not observe Torah as an expression of faith. Instead, he championed freedom from it—except when mimicking observant Jews in order to evangelize among them. The few interpreters who propose that for Paul to remain a Jew in any meaningful way he must have behaved like a Jew, temper their assessments of Paul's observation of Torah because of his stated policy of adaptability to win those "under law" as well as the anomos ("lawless," often translated "without law," usually understood to signify non-Jews). This paper explores whether Paul can be understood here to instead argue along a line witnessed in a philosophical tradition interpreting Odysseus as a polytrope rather than a deceiver. In this direction, 1 Cor 9:19-23 can be read by an audience knowing Paul to be Torah-observant, and yet one who seeks to relate the presentation of his message to non-Jewish as well as Jewish audiences without compromising Torah, or deceiving his audiences about the meaning of the message he proclaims. Just such an interpretation of Paul's rhetorical strategy arises in Acts 17, when Paul preaches among the philosophers in Athens. This approach to Paul's message in 9:19-23 is also relevant to the interpretation of his primary discussion in chapters 8—10 concerning the subject of the "knowledgeable" ones (not) eating idol food in Corinth, in the midst of which it appears.

Judges 19-21 contains the account of a war between Israel and Benjamin. Traditional interpretation has viewed this conflict as an intra-tribal civil war. However, there are aspects of the text that contradict the view of Benjamin as an Israelite tribe. This includes several instances in which Israel unexpectedly refers to Benjamin as an ?? or “brother.” No where else in the Hebrew Bible does Israel, speaking as the embodiment of the twelve tribes, refer to one of its own tribes using the word ??. This paper suggests that the word ?? in Ju 20:13, 23 and 28, and 21:6 should be understood in a diplomatic, rather than familial, sense. Certain biblical passages, as well as extra-biblical evidence from Amarna and Mari suggest that such diplomatic usage signified equality and parity between two distinct parties. In Ju 19-21, this language presents a Benjamin that is equal to and separate from Israel, rather than a subdivision of it. This observation requires one to question further the biblical presentation of the formation of the tribal confederacy of Israel, as well as provide scholars with a better understanding of inter-tribal discourse in the Ancient Near East. It seems that in constructing the received text of Ju 19-21, an editor brought together a number of sources, including at least one that presented Benjamin as a non-Israelite group.

Traditional accounts of the quantifier kol in Biblical Hebrew seems be inadequate with no description or explanation of its status, syntactic distribution or scope. Current research within formal and functional approaches on the manifestation of the universal quantifiers is of interest for Biblical Hebrew grammar. Within the Chomskyan generative framework, logical form representations serve to express those properties of syntactic form that are important for semantic interpretation. These representations exhibit some of the properties commonly associated with the representations of standard logical systems. In these systems an operator is associated with a scope/domain/range. In this paper it is indicated that the Biblical Hebrew kol exhibits the same property and it has therefore the status of an operator. In addition, kol occurs before or after its domain. In the last instance the association with its domain is made possible by a pronominal suffix which acts as a resumptive pronoun. This syntactic distribution of the operator kol shows that it is a floating universal quantifier. The definite article can mark the scope of kol. Depending on the scope of kol, it can be interpreted or translated as an All, Both or Each type quantifier in English. The aim of the paper is to work out where a certain interpretation can be expected.

"Jesus is my homeboy." Recall the first time that you heard (or read) this phrase. The popularity of this phrase and the iconic depiction of Jesus as devoid of race (or certainly racially uncertain), and its subsequent reproduction onto t-shirts attests to American Popular Culture's profound influence on understandings of the Bible, especially the figure of Jesus. How one understands the Bible and its depiction of Jesus is bound up with theology, hermeneutics, important editorial judgments, and authorial intent related to nuance and medium. This is obvious in film and music, but also in printed artistic depictions of Jesus. This paper analyzes three works of pop-art from the latter half of the 20th century which depict Jesus in unique contexts. Since none of the works provides a clear scriptural contextual frame, a question emerges: since Jesus is not located in a historical context, are these renderings favorable and endearing or offensive and sacrilegious? The paper outlines the implications for each piece: 1. The poster "Wanted: Jesus Christ" ties Jesus to the counter-cultural era of the 1960s, when revolution was a watchword. 2. Van Zan Frater’s iconic screen print "Jesus is My Homeboy" is catchy, attempting to make Jesus familiar, and thus accessible and friendly. 3. Stephen S. Sawyer’s "Undefeated" places Jesus in the corner of a boxing ring, presumably after his latest victory. American culture, rather than the art itself, provides the context and the criterion. Each is a manifestation of popular culture's unquenchable need and ability to comment on faith, religion, and the Bible.

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Ben Sira participates in a recognizable way in the pre-exilic wisdom genre, yet it reconfigures that genre in its use of prayer and hymnic language which punctuates its proverbial discourse throughout. Moreover, the book reflects a textualized notion of wisdom drawing as well on the language of temple ritual. Pre-exilic Israelite wisdom traditions rely on human reflection on the natural world and social relations as the source of wisdom. By contrast, a soliloquy of praise set in the mouth of the personified wisdom figure (Ben Sira 24) identifies the font of wisdom as the divine sanctuary and the speech as a whole is identified as the book of the covenant, the torah of Moses. In this way, wisdom speech itself becomes identified as prophecy. The final chapters of the book likewise point to the sanctuary. The composition and oral transmission of wisdom discourse by the pious prophetic sage thus occurs through the reconception of temple and prayer reflected in the book itself (Ben Sira 38:34b-39:11). By reassessing both the book’s prayers and its temple discourse, this essay will argue that the role of high priest in the temple as center of the polity is ultimately trumped by the role of the inspired prophetic sage as himself the performative medium of divine instruction which includes his own book. The ultimate (variant) shapes of the book whether in Hebrew, Greek, or Syriac thus represent the extension of such scripturalized sapiential prayer discourse that is part of the liturgical temper of the Greco-Roman era.

In his commentary on Romans, The Time that Remains, Giorgio Agamben, using the term kletos in 1:1 as a starting point, develops a reflection on the notion of messianic vocation. One of his key points is to argue that messianic vocation does not consist in giving a new identity to the person. Rather, it allows the person to use her vocation in the proper manner. The “new creature” can now messianically use the old. The concept of use (chresis) is central to Agamben’s understanding of vocation. With the notion of use of vocation, Agamben is able to show that the messianic vocation is not something that a person possesses. Rather, it is a “potentiality that can be used without ever being owned” (p. 26). I argue that the notion of messianic vocation can help understand the relationship between old and new creation in Paul. In Romans 6:6, Paul indicates that the old person (ho palaios anthropos) had to be destroyed in order for the believers to continue to live. What is the relationship between the old self and the new redeemed person? The concept of messianic vocation highlights the fact that the characteristics of the old self do not simply disappear but can now be put to new usages. In the destruction of the old self, it is not that Paul is making new persons, as if in a creation ex nihilo. Rather, what is addressees are can now be used in new ways. These new usages are then described by Paul in the final sections of Romans (12-15), thus putting into place a dynamic and positive anthropology, in contrast to the negative description of humanity in 1:18-3:19.

The paper places Origen’s project of a biblical school curriculum in the light of Origen’s understanding of biblical exegesis as the receptive attendance (mele¢th) to the messianic advent (¹e¹pidhmi¢a) of a Bible-incarnate Logos. I maintain that, like the Bible, which is a textual incarnation (an in-textuation) of the Logos in the exegetically received and homiletically furthered biblical words, the Origenian school curriculum is a doctrinal incarnation (an “in-culturation”) of the Logos in the observantly attended biblical teaching. The disciple who welcomes the messianically inculturated Teacher becomes gradually attuned to the twofold, humble and exalted, manner in which this Teacher performs his soteriological pedagogy. Consequently, the analysis of Origen’s curriculum will be pursued in two ways. On the one hand, I shall analyze the emergence of the curriculum from the twofold, humble and exalted, coming of the Logos to the disciple, while, on the other hand, I shall look at the curriculum as an expression of the disciple’s transformation in the image of the Logos through the gradual reception of Logos’s pedagogic advent. In this context I shall discus Origen’s description of the disciple’s experience of being-attuned to the messianic Teacher who is the Logos as the working out of two spiritual moods, namely that of grief and joy. I shall point out the mournful mood of the ethical and physical reception of the kenotic Teacher in fear and awe along with the more joyous mood of the epoptic reception of the exalted Teacher in love. Jesus’ interpretation of the Scripture on the road to Emmaus will be also discussed as the most accomplished expression of biblical exegetic pedagogy. On this occasion I shall point out a possible totalizing (supersessionist-assimilationist) reading of the Emmaus scene and some aspects of Origen’s exegesis of this scene that could have effectively prevented such a reading.

This paper will explore the existence of New Testament ostraca and their importance for studying both the textual and the social history of early Christianity. Dozens have been discovered to date yet they are seemingly unknown by most scholars. These have been forgotten since they are omitted in critical editions and lists (save one in the Kurzgefasste Liste). However, only until all witnesses are examined can the full history of the text and its reception be written. This paper seeks to fill this lacuna by 1) discussing all known New Testament ostraca and their provenance, dates, etc., and 2) outlining their value for the overall study of Christian origins.

Through the use of biblical phrases Syriac grammarians, starting from Jåusep ‹½zåjå and continuing at least up to Barhebraeus, described ways of reciting. These were employed to render the text understandable to an audience that was not able to read the Bible. The various ways of reciting were noted as accents. The Syriac accent-system, which probably influenced the Hebrew one, had increased so much in complexity that it came to be arranged in a faulty manner. This may have been a reason why the notation was discontinued. Yet the question remains to be asked: Has the Syriac accent-system been lost, or is it still part of the oral tradition?

The Gospel According to Mark describes John the Baptist as having been active in the wilderness and the Jordan. Matthew identifies the wilderness as the “wilderness of Judea.” Luke mentions neither the wilderness nor the Jordan as the locus of John’s activity; he refers, rather, to “all the region around the Jordan.” The Fourth Gospel mentions two places at which John practiced baptism: “Bethany across the Jordan” and “Aenon near Salim.” In this paper, I will consider whether these places reflect the historical arena in which John the Baptist was active or whether they are the product of a theological agenda. I will argue that the Synoptic tradition’s association of John the Baptist with the wilderness (or the wilderness of Judea), the Jordan and “the region around the Jordan” reflect, first and foremost, theological tendencies that can be understood in light of the parts played by John the Baptist in the history of the gospel and the significance of the baptism he instituted. But over and against these theological tendencies, there is a solid tradition tying John’s activity to the Trans-Jordan region. That tradition emerges between the lines in Matthew and Luke, but it is clearly expressed in the Fourth Gospel. It appears to have been preserved within Christian or Judeo-Christian communities in Trans-Jordan during the first century CE, and it may reflect an authentic, historical memory of the arena in which John the Baptist was active.

Many interpreters of Philemon have downplayed the possibility that Onesimus was a runaway slave (e.g., Knox 1959; Winter 1984; 1987; Lampe 1985; Callahan 1997) and suggested, furthermore, that Onesimus was little more than a menial in the employ of his master Philemon (Arzt-Grabner 2003: 97). Some have pointed out, however, that Onesimus could well have been a highly trusted slave in Philemon’s employ (e.g., Nordling 2004: 144) and that highly responsible slaves who had access to the master’s wealth were fully capable of betraying trusting masters and mistresses sometimes without provocation. P.Turner 41.1-21 supports the latter position. It features one Sarapion, slave of Aurelia Sarapias, to whom the latter had entrusted her household affairs and even provided him “a place of honor” and “life’s provision.” But what had that slave done? Obviously, we have to take an outraged mistress’s word for it, but it seems Sarapion had “stolen” from the household provisions and “run away secretly.” The papyrus’s pertinence for a traditional interpretation of Philemon is obvious; it suggests, with other documents that paint a similar picture, that the runaway slave hypothesis in Philemon remains viable.

Will discuss the role of Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History in the formation of late antique Christian literary culture.

One of the classic questions of Pauline interpretation is whether the apostle uses the word Christos as a proper name (“Jesus Christ”) or as a title (“Jesus, the Messiah”). A sizeable majority of modern interpreters, championed by Nils A. Dahl, have ruled in favor of nominal usage, while a minority report, recently represented by N. T. Wright, argues for titular usage instead. Yet, apart from a few cautionary footnotes, both sides agree that “name” and “title” jointly exhaust the available categories for solving the problem. But, as the ongoing Lexicon of Greek Proper Names project (LGPN; formerly under the auspices of the British Academy, now at the University of Oxford) is making increasingly clear, Greek naming conventions in the Hellenistic and Roman periods were considerably more varied than this, including at least given names (simple and compound, secular and theophoric), nicknames, patronymics, ethnics, demotics, titles, and honorifics. While the diverse Pauline usage of Christos cannot be collapsed into a single ancient onomastic category, in the case of the problematic “double name” formula (Iesous Christos or Christos Iesous it appears that Paul uses Christos in the manner of an honorific, like those taken by the Hellenistic kings (e.g., Ptolemy Euergetes, Antiochus Epiphanes) and later by the Roman emperors (e.g., Caesar Augustus). This hypothesis accounts for both the apparently nominal features of Pauline usage as well as the apparently titular ones, and does so by appealing to onomastic conventions known to Paul himself.

The role of the quotation from Ps 69 in Peter’s speech in Acts 1 is the subject of long-standing scholarly debate. Some have understood Peter to be referring to Judas’ field, others to Judas’ office. My paper attempts to solve this crux by reading Peter’s speech against the background of early rabbinic exegetical practice.

If not popular, Delilah as the femme fatale who leads to Samson’s demise is a well-known character. She is the hated woman who subjugates Samson by getting him a very costly haircut, for, entangled in his flowing locks, his phallic credentials also get the chop. While most artistic depictions present Delilah as the one cutting Samson’s hair, Rubens is faithful to the biblical text by inserting a barber in his interpretation of the story. Yet, he too presents the viewer with a guilty Delilah. She emerges from the canvas as the wicked seductress who ruins a biblical hero. By focusing more closely on Samson’s role in his own destruction, this paper proposes a different reading of the encounter between Samson and Delilah. Informed by psychoanalytical theory, it argues that toying with death is Samson’s favourite game in the narrative and that Delilah is a pawn in Samson’s hands and not vice-versa.

This paper argues against seeing Herodian Galilee as a place of social harmony. By contrast, a social-scientific approach to agrarian "aristocratic politics" highlights--the structures of Herodian social stratification; top-down control of patronage, economic production, labor, debt, and taxation; a social world filled with latent tension; and grounds for seeing the Jesus movement as peasant resistance. In general, the paper stresses the importance of explicit models informed by comparative social sciences for understanding the Galilee of Herod Antipas.

This paper presents some aspects of the thesis developed in my forthcoming book titled “Early Judaism and Modern Culture: Essays on Early Jewish Literature and Theology” (Eerdmans 2009). In it I explore the literature and theology of Early Judaism (300 BCE – 200 CE) from a methodological perspective in order to identify its importance for today by looking at what scholars have said about the relevance of the Apocrypha, the Pseudepigrapha, the Dead Sea Scrolls and Philo and Josephus. This paper will focus on the heritage of Hellenistic Judaism in modern culture by looking at it from two angles. First: How do the Hellenistic Jewish authors treat topics such as the authority of the Bible, the importance of philosophy, the quest for religious identity, the relevance of the literary world, gender, ethics, the inter-religious dialogue and politics? Second: What of their philosophical and hermeneutical reflections have survived until today and what of it is still received and perceived well? Which aspects of modern culture, such as philosophy, film, ethics, still reflect some familiarity with Hellenistic Jewish thought?

In Luke 23:28-29, Jesus addresses the weeping women who follow him as he is led to the place of execution: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For the days are surely coming when they will say, 'Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.'" This paper explores Luke 23:28-29 as part of a literary tradition in which images of mothers and infants are used to transmit the devastating effects of war and other forms of violence. Anticipating the destruction of Jerusalem in the year 70 C.E., Luke's Jesus draws from imagery of pregnancy, birth, and nursing infants, in order to highlight the extreme violence to come. Luke's blessing of the barren also needs to be placed in relation to those texts of the Hebrew Bible that are concerned with the first destruction of Jerusalem. In Lamentations, for example, the horrors of devastation are told through the trope of babies who lie deserted on the streets and of starving mothers who kill their children (Lamentations 2,20). In her essay "Burning the Book of Lamentations", Naomi Seidman raises critical questions about the use of such gendered imagery in biblical literature of destruction. For her, this imagery is especially jarring because she finds resonances between Lamentations and literature that grew out of the Nazi Holocaust. Building on Seidman and other feminist scholars, I read Luke's blessing of the barren in light of those Holocaust narratives that describe the violent destruction of the bond between mother and child (as in Cynthia Ozick's "The Shawl") as well as to those that describe the survival of this bond in extremity (as in Charlotte Delbo's writings).

This paper addresses the question of cult migration from an inner Christian perspective by maintaining that the idea of distinct “Pauline” and “Johannine” communities in Ephesus during the first two centuries CE has to be deeply reconsidered. On the one hand the introductory questions will therefore be reassessed by clearly distinguishing between the evidence of the early Christian writings themselves and remarks on their origin by later church authors. This will reveal that it should at least be doubted that an influential Pauline “school” existed in Ephesus. On the other hand the fact that Paul in the only letter he certainly wrote in the capital of Asia Minor, 1 Corinthians, acknowledges (and disputes, of course) that “Christian” identity is multifaceted (cf. 1 Cor 1:12) will be taken as a starting point to question that in Ephesus (and elsewhere) stable Pauline and Johannine “identity markers” were maintained. Instead, the Early Christians are shown to have had flexible boundaries which allowed for “cult migration” among different communities.

Martyrs and martyrdom are often viewed as central concerns of the second-century BCE text 2 Maccabees. The association of 2 Maccabees with martyrology is an ancient one. This is confirmed by the popularity of the story of Eleazar and the Mother and her Seven Sons of 2 Macc 6-7 which dominates the first-century CE text 4 Maccabees, and spawned a dynamic Nachleben in late antique and medieval Judaism and Christianity. However, when viewed in the broader context of the supposed martyrological Ur-text 2 Maccabees, these two accounts (in addition to the macabre tale of Razis in 2 Macc 14) take on a more complex hue which problematizes our understanding of the terms martyr and martyrology, defies any easy application of these terms to these stories in particular, and undermines the already ancient view that 2 Maccabees is overtly concerned with martyrs per se – at least, that is, with any passive variety thereof. In this talk I will analyze these supposed martyrologies within the broader context of 2 Maccabees in order to discern their function within the text, and the meaning of the text as a whole. My claim is that the narrator has blurred the lines between the active heroism of the Judean warriors and a potentially passive civilian population in order to assimilate the behavior of the latter to the willfully aggressive acts of battlefield valor displayed by Judah Maccabee and his men. Taken as a whole, the Iliad-esque heroics of Judean warriors (e.g. the Judean cavalryman Dositheus who strong-arms Gorgias in battle) occupy as much, if not more, space and literary flourish than the celebrated martyr stories, with both serving the same purpose of inculcating the youth of the Judean ethnos with examples of nobility and virtue in the service of defending Judean custom. The actions of all these Judean patriots – the term “martyr” is absent from the text – are interwoven into a narrative that co-opts Greek aretê-speak in defense of Iouda?smos from the perceived threat of Greeks and Greekness, while demonstrating the control of the Judean patriots over their own bodies in the face of foreign aggression. As such, the actions of Eleazar and company approximate the sort of heroism ascribed to typical Roman heroes such as G. Mucius Scaevola who, while sacrificing his flesh to the Etruscan fire, states in Livy’s later account, “It would take no less courage to die than it would to kill. To do and to suffer bravely is the Roman way” (nec ad mortem minus animi est quam fuit ad caedem: et facere et pati fortia Romanum est), thereby revealing a potential object of emulation for the author of 2 Maccabees and his elite Judean contemporaries: a particular sort of Roman virtue that celebrates death not as a state of being imposed upon a passive victim, but rather ever and always a free choice of individual and collective bravery.

There existed a continuity of legal hermeneutics beginning with the revision of the Covenant Code by the preexilic book of Deuteronomy down to the final formation of the Pentateuch. The intention of revision was not replacement of the revised text but supplementation. The revising text became the hermeneutical key for the interpretation of the revised text, the book of Deuteronomy for the Covenant Code. The postexilic literary history of the Pentateuch made this relation explicit.

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