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Genesis 3:16 is arguably the most troubling biblical verse for issues of gender relations and women's roles. It figures prominently in later Jewish and especially Christian sources, and discussions in those texts have influenced subsequent understandings of the verse and of the Eden narrative in which it is embedded. This article engages in a careful reading of the biblical text in order to elucidate its meaning apart from later traditions. Recognizing the poetic character of the four lines of this verse is an important part of the analytical process, as is situating it within the Eden tale. Also, because no text arises in a vacuum, considering the Iron Age context—the world of the Israelite populace, that is, the world behind the text, a world vastly different from our own—provides the requisite socio-historical sensitivity. An awareness of that ancient context means openness to a suggestion about what Gen 3:16 may have meant to its ancient audience. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The exodus event demonstrates a culture and religious shift from an Egyptian context to that of national Israel. Scholars have underplayed the influence of Egypt on Israel during the exodus while overplaying the influence of Canaan. To be sure, Canaanite mores influence the practices of the Israelites. However, the generation that left Egypt (according to the Biblical account) would have been assimilated to Egyptian mores. Thus, the present article seeks to establish the exodus event as the means by which Israel sheds its former Egyptian mores and becomes "national Israel". [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In 2000, David Batchelor utilized chromophobia to describe how achromaticity has been favoured among Western intelligentsia since Aristotle. In contrast to white, hues have been linked to the feminine, the dangerous and the chaotic, and they have often been perceived to be something to abandon or control. The ominous associations remain the same when hues are desired (chromophilia), but in these instances, one desires to lose oneself to the somewhat ominous realm of colour. By approaching the Hebrew Bible with Batchelor's framework, and with a view to human agency, various texts of transitions between chromaticity and achromaticity are examined (Ps 51:9; Isa 1:18; Jon 3:6; Lam 4:7–8; Num 12:10; Exod 25–31). It is argued that colours, in some cases, are abandoned and controlled and that they receive a specific evaluation depending on whether an agent voluntarily desired or involuntarily suffered a transition between chromaticity and achromaticity. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The dove, the most frequently mentioned bird in the Hebrew Bible, appears in diverse contexts, spanning its appearance as an element in the narrative (as in the case of Noah's ark), and as an allegory and metaphor (as in the cryptic "sword of the dove"—twice in Jeremiah—and "the city of the dove"—Zephaniah). The dove even appears as the proper name of a prophet (or possibly of two, both named Jonah, son of Amittai). This article applies a communication perspective to better interpret some of these texts. We argue that the dove's communicative attributes, to include unique acoustics, remarkable power of flight, but primarily the trait of returning home—the basis for the use of doves as carrier pigeons—may either explain or deepen the interpretation of many of the references to the pigeon in the Bible. In this vein, a major focus of the article is on using the dove's homing ability as a key for reinterpreting the Book of Jonah. We conclude by suggesting that the dove's trait of returning and, hence, its use as envoy made it a useful symbol of the deity's presence in the world. In the Jewish reading, it became an emblem of one of the main political and eschatological themes of the Bible: the return home from exile, beginning with the exodus and return of Jacob's sons to Canaan and ending with the Eschaton. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

How did an Arab Jew read the Quran against the backdrop of contradictory ideologies and the rise of key movements, including nationalism, colonialism, and Zionism, in Mandate Palestine? Approaching Isaac Yahuda as an Arab Jew challenges the binary opposition between Arabs and Jews in Zionist discourse, a linkage perceived as inconceivable, and on the other hand, that linkage is asserted, contested, and tested in the context of nationalism. This article also challenges the advancement of Jewish singularity and superiority by exploring how Jewish writers interacted with the Islamic scripture in Mandatory Palestine rather than dismissing it. This article examines Hebrew interpretation of various passages from the Quran that produced an understanding of the Quran that advanced Zionist ideals, including the nationalization of contested religious sites and the consolidation of the indigeneity of Jews in the East. Isaac Yahuda's Hebrew commentary on the Quran challenged his Arab Jewishness in such a divisive nationalist atmosphere in Mandate Palestine. His hybrid background and dynamic connections with both Jews and Arabs enabled him to navigate these turbulent times by invoking the Quran, demonstrating respect for it, and at the same time challenging the understanding of his contemporary Muslims while utilizing German Jewish scholarship on the origins of Islam. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Although the fear of Yhwh has been presented as an intrinsic feature of the ancient Israelite religion, the fear of God(s) is not limited to the people of Israel in the Hebrew Bible, and similar ideas of fearing deities occur in various texts produced by neighbouring cultures in the ancient eastern Mediterranean. This article investigates the prosocial role of this virtue in situations of human mobility and intercultural contact in the light of the Hebrew Bible and the Odyssey. First, I analyse those Hebrew Bible texts in which the fear of God(s) characterizes or is presented as being intelligible to non-Israelite people in situations involving movement and cultural encounter (Gen 20:11; 42:18; Exod 1:17, 21; Deut 25:18; Jon 1:9). Second, I explore the fear motif in other texts from the ancient eastern Mediterranean region and argue that biblical scholars have overlooked illuminating intertexts found in ancient Greek literature. I especially highlight the interpretative importance of the Odyssey, which frequently stresses the prosocial role of the virtue of fearing deities in the context of travel and contact with outsiders. In so doing, the Odyssey helps us see how the Hebrew Bible texts portraying the fear of God(s) as a universalistic virtue are rooted in and belong to a broader ancient Mediterranean milieu. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Pursuing marital partners far from home can be a complicated endeavor, and the motives to travel for a companion can be a combination of pushes from one's locality and pulls toward something new. In the Hebrew Bible, several narratives concern pursuing a partner far from home, but the motives of the person traveling have not seen much scholarly attention. In this contribution, the entangled motives are traced in three select narratives (Judg 14; Gen 24; Tob) that each represents a specific category of pursuing a partner. Samson pursues a known partner, Isaac and his family pursue an unknown partner, and Tobias unknowingly pursues a partner. These three narrative categories are explored utilizing the framework of actor-network theory to tease out the entangled human and non-human actants that affect the motives and the pursuit itself. This contribution reveals that motives are always entangled in more extensive networks, agency is distributed among various actants, and no pursuit of a companion in the Hebrew Bible is exactly like another. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The exodus event demonstrates a culture and religious shift from an Egyptian context to that of national Israel. Scholars have underplayed the influence of Egypt on Israel during the exodus while overplaying the influence of Canaan. To be sure, Canaanite mores influence the practices of the Israelites. However, the generation that left Egypt (according to the Biblical account) would have been assimilated to Egyptian mores. Thus, the present article seeks to establish the exodus event as the means by which Israel sheds its former Egyptian mores and becomes “national Israel”.

The Hebrew Bible is not only an ancient religious text, but also imbues information about the lives of people. Beyond controversial matters in the text, links can be found to common humanity with ancient roots. This renders the text not only relevant for adherents to the religions based on this text, but to all people. The exemplar followed in this article is standing stones. Biblical authors frequently refer to standing stones. These references are sharply contrasting, with some condoning and others condemning, causing contention. Archaeologically, standing stones are a ubiquitous phenomenon all over the world throughout time. They abound in the southern Levant, the region for which the Hebrew Bible is a sacred text. The meaning of standing stones is multifarious, but ultimately relates to the numinous. Among other meanings, like other vertical elements, such as mountains and trees, they play a role in shamanism, an ancient and extensive worldview. Exploration of common human traits, ascribed to inborn neurophysiological and psychological factors, divulges explanations for universal phenomena such as shamanic worldviews and the physical manifestations of such worldviews, of which the standing stone is one. Multidisciplinary evidence from archaeological, ethnographic, and textual analysis reveals that both standing stones of the southern Levant and those in the Hebrew Bible exhibit meanings related to this cosmology which flows from unconscious properties common to all people. Going beyond controversial topics allows access to common human traits linking all people, in this case adding relevance to the biblical text. This approach could elucidate the human commonality hidden behind other dissonant subjects in the Hebrew Bible. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Although the fear of Yhwh has been presented as an intrinsic feature of the ancient Israelite religion, the fear of God(s) is not limited to the people of Israel in the Hebrew Bible, and similar ideas of fearing deities occur in various texts produced by neighbouring cultures in the ancient eastern Mediterranean. This article investigates the prosocial role of this virtue in situations of human mobility and intercultural contact in the light of the Hebrew Bible and the Odyssey. First, I analyse those Hebrew Bible texts in which the fear of God(s) characterizes or is presented as being intelligible to non-Israelite people in situations involving movement and cultural encounter (Gen 20:11; 42:18; Exod 1:17, 21; Deut 25:18; Jon 1:9). Second, I explore the fear motif in other texts from the ancient eastern Mediterranean region and argue that biblical scholars have overlooked illuminating intertexts found in ancient Greek literature. I especially highlight the interpretative importance of the Odyssey, which frequently stresses the prosocial role of the virtue of fearing deities in the context of travel and contact with outsiders. In so doing, the Odyssey helps us see how the Hebrew Bible texts portraying the fear of God(s) as a universalistic virtue are rooted in and belong to a broader ancient Mediterranean milieu.

How did an Arab Jew read the Quran against the backdrop of contradictory ideologies and the rise of key movements, including nationalism, colonialism, and Zionism, in Mandate Palestine? Approaching Isaac Yahuda as an Arab Jew challenges the binary opposition between Arabs and Jews in Zionist discourse, a linkage perceived as inconceivable, and on the other hand, that linkage is asserted, contested, and tested in the context of nationalism. This article also challenges the advancement of Jewish singularity and superiority by exploring how Jewish writers interacted with the Islamic scripture in Mandatory Palestine rather than dismissing it. This article examines Hebrew interpretation of various passages from the Quran that produced an understanding of the Quran that advanced Zionist ideals, including the nationalization of contested religious sites and the consolidation of the indigeneity of Jews in the East. Isaac Yahuda’s Hebrew commentary on the Quran challenged his Arab Jewishness in such a divisive nationalist atmosphere in Mandate Palestine. His hybrid background and dynamic connections with both Jews and Arabs enabled him to navigate these turbulent times by invoking the Quran, demonstrating respect for it, and at the same time challenging the understanding of his contemporary Muslims while utilizing German Jewish scholarship on the origins of Islam.

The dove, the most frequently mentioned bird in the Hebrew Bible, appears in diverse contexts, spanning its appearance as an element in the narrative (as in the case of Noah’s ark), and as an allegory and metaphor (as in the cryptic “sword of the dove”—twice in Jeremiah—and “the city of the dove”—Zephaniah). The dove even appears as the proper name of a prophet (or possibly of two, both named Jonah, son of Amittai). This article applies a communication perspective to better interpret some of these texts. We argue that the dove’s communicative attributes, to include unique acoustics, remarkable power of flight, but primarily the trait of returning home—the basis for the use of doves as carrier pigeons—may either explain or deepen the interpretation of many of the references to the pigeon in the Bible. In this vein, a major focus of the article is on using the dove’s homing ability as a key for reinterpreting the Book of Jonah. We conclude by suggesting that the dove’s trait of returning and, hence, its use as envoy made it a useful symbol of the deity’s presence in the world. In the Jewish reading, it became an emblem of one of the main political and eschatological themes of the Bible: the return home from exile, beginning with the exodus and return of Jacob’s sons to Canaan and ending with the Eschaton.

Pursuing marital partners far from home can be a complicated endeavor, and the motives to travel for a companion can be a combination of pushes from one’s locality and pulls toward something new. In the Hebrew Bible, several narratives concern pursuing a partner far from home, but the motives of the person traveling have not seen much scholarly attention. In this contribution, the entangled motives are traced in three select narratives (Judg 14; Gen 24; Tob) that each represents a specific category of pursuing a partner. Samson pursues a known partner, Isaac and his family pursue an unknown partner, and Tobias unknowingly pursues a partner. These three narrative categories are explored utilizing the framework of actor-network theory to tease out the entangled human and non-human actants that affect the motives and the pursuit itself. This contribution reveals that motives are always entangled in more extensive networks, agency is distributed among various actants, and no pursuit of a companion in the Hebrew Bible is exactly like another.

This essay considers the phenomenon of public Jewish biblical quotation, such as, for instance, "justice, justice shall you pursue," in times of contemporary political crisis. I argue that these references tend to employ a sanitized and selective hermeneutics which overlooks and bypasses the violent or otherwise "difficult" themes of these works and suggest that there is a parallel between our refusal to come to terms with the frequent violence in many texts, and our inability to acknowledge the intensity and scope of the "real world" crises we employ these texts to respond to. Delving into the complex biblical narrative of Korach as an example, I propose that particular attention to difficult texts invites Jewish communities not only to confront the darker parts of the textual tradition, but also provides a communal model for acknowledging the true depths of a crisis, textual or political, instead of turning quickly to palliative solutions. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The Hebrew Bible is not only an ancient religious text, but also imbues information about the lives of people. Beyond controversial matters in the text, links can be found to common humanity with ancient roots. This renders the text not only relevant for adherents to the religions based on this text, but to all people. The exemplar followed in this article is standing stones. Biblical authors frequently refer to standing stones. These references are sharply contrasting, with some condoning and others condemning, causing contention. Archaeologically, standing stones are a ubiquitous phenomenon all over the world throughout time. They abound in the southern Levant, the region for which the Hebrew Bible is a sacred text. The meaning of standing stones is multifarious, but ultimately relates to the numinous. Among other meanings, like other vertical elements, such as mountains and trees, they play a role in shamanism, an ancient and extensive worldview. Exploration of common human traits, ascribed to inborn neurophysiological and psychological factors, divulges explanations for universal phenomena such as shamanic worldviews and the physical manifestations of such worldviews, of which the standing stone is one. Multidisciplinary evidence from archaeological, ethnographic, and textual analysis reveals that both standing stones of the southern Levant and those in the Hebrew Bible exhibit meanings related to this cosmology which flows from unconscious properties common to all people. Going beyond controversial topics allows access to common human traits linking all people, in this case adding relevance to the biblical text. This approach could elucidate the human commonality hidden behind other dissonant subjects in the Hebrew Bible.

In one of his recent books, Jean-Claude Larchet argued that the study of Hebrew is useless for those doing research in the field of Orthodox theology, since the Church fathers used the Greek version of the Old Testament (Septuagint). There are at least two reasons that might be advanced in order to prove the invalidity of Larchet's thesis. First, fostering an attitude of ignorance as regards the Hebrew Bible might nurture anti-Judaic beliefs among Orthodox students, considering that such attitudes could be noticed in Romania during the interwar period. Second, the Fathers of the Church had a favorable attitude towards Hebrew, despite the fact that few of them actually knew that language. They held the belief that Hebrew was the primordial language through which God spoke to mankind in the beginning and through which the Old Testament was revealed. Both the Hebrew language and the Hebrew alphabet played a significant role in their theoretical considerations on the canon of the Holy Scripture. Since Larchet published his work in Romanian, his theses and their implications are discussed from the perspective and in the context of Romanian Orthodox theology. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is largely organized around its explicit reference to Milton's retelling of Genesis 2–3, Paradise Lost. Unfortunately, this reference to Milton has discouraged scholars from going back to the Old Testament itself. In fact, the novel contains three crucial biblical allusions. Most obvious, of course, are the allusions to creation (Genesis 1–3), which contain details not found in Milton's epic. The biblically literate reader will be able to discern two more crucial biblical allusions: one to Exodus 32–33 and the other to the Book of Job. In both of these texts, we find a man—Moses and Job, respectively—seeking an audience with his creator, such as that Adam and Eve enjoyed in the garden. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Esther, Mordecai and the Jewish People's survival in ancient Persia alert readers that anti-Semitism can exist even in professedly peaceful and progressive settings. Esther's scroll is not only designed to be read, but it too reads contemporary circumstances of trauma and oppression. This Hebrew Bible narrative offers a critique and a challenge to present interpreters, especially those belonging to professed progressive and peaceful societies. Esther's scroll exposes how the propaganda of peace and progress, foundational to various imperial and institutional contexts, can veneer structures and events of violence and trauma. Informed by the death-dealing realities of anti-Black racism, a reading of Esther's key scenes and themes provides insight into the destructive and deadly ways that injustices such as anti-Black racism are supported and sustained by institutional policies and practices. Inherent within this Jewish survival account is an indictment of complicit and culpable individuals and institutions that enable, fund and sanction violence against marginalized members. Although there are numerous sites of oppression and violence throughout society, this essay highlights the institution of academia, which is often upheld as a paragon of progress and peace but which is frequently a prime site of racism and its attendant inequities. As a piece of trauma and survival literature, Esther's scroll makes a valuable contribution to the repertoire of resilience and resistance curated by many Black individuals and communities to counter anti-Black racism. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

A recurrent theme in the Hebrew Bible is brotherly animosity. Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, and Solomon and Adonijah are but a few examples. This variety seems to reflect a fundamental conflict in ancient society. In this article, I argue that all these stories function as ethos myths. After describing the various stories with an attempt to single out the motivations behind them, they will be put into the social context that probably fueled them. Although the stories are extremely varied, they all share at least one common element, namely: it is always the younger brother who turns out to be God's favorite. A second element is the jealousy of the older brother in the special status of the younger. Against the historical background of long-lasting civil war between the smaller kingdom of Judah and the larger, militarily stronger, and more financially stable kingdom of Israel, I argue that these stories were adapted to fit into the Judean narrative for the sake of strengthening its self-image as a small kingdom struggling against a stronger opponent who is motivated by jealousy. The mythical conflict reflects the complexity of the struggle between the two kingdoms, in which Judah identifies itself as being the 'younger child' or the 'little brother', who is blessed by God. Such myths give justification to the military struggle and feed the self-conviction narratives of the superiority of Judah as being divinely chosen. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This essay considers the phenomenon of public Jewish biblical quotation, such as, for instance, “justice, justice shall you pursue,” in times of contemporary political crisis. I argue that these references tend to employ a sanitized and selective hermeneutics which overlooks and bypasses the violent or otherwise “difficult” themes of these works and suggest that there is a parallel between our refusal to come to terms with the frequent violence in many texts, and our inability to acknowledge the intensity and scope of the “real world” crises we employ these texts to respond to. Delving into the complex biblical narrative of Korach as an example, I propose that particular attention to difficult texts invites Jewish communities not only to confront the darker parts of the textual tradition, but also provides a communal model for acknowledging the true depths of a crisis, textual or political, instead of turning quickly to palliative solutions.

The current article argues that Paul Mendes-Flohr's turn to address contemporary challenges faced by Jews at large, and Israeli Jews in particular, is proleptic in the sense that it excavates the anticipation of the current intellectual, spiritual and moral reality from the intellectual history of modern German−Jewish thought. Based on a reading of his recent book, Cultural Disjunctions: Post-Traditional Jewish Identities, the discussion shows how Mendes-Flohr's adaptation of Martin Buber's call to aspire to I−Thou relations supports proleptic historiography both as a historiographical methodology and as a moral act. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

There are a number of challenges faced by diasporic people, yet they all seem to be connected to one major issue: "identity". Their narratives are built on questions surrounding who they are, when they are no longer living in/on their home/land. As they migrate to foreign lands, their notions of identity become clouded, and quite often they struggle to "belong". Second-generation people could be heard asking: "Where do we belong?" "The lands our parents came from?" "Or the lands we now live?" "Is it both? Or is it neither?" "Do we even know who we are? How do we fit in? How do we survive?" The aim of this essay is to highlight the issue of diasporic identity in the narratives of three biblical migrants: Joseph, Esther, and Daniel. The purposes of these biblical accounts seem to reflect the ambivalence of diasporic existence, where they can achieve success but also experience adversity. Yet these narratives also deal with how identity is problematized in diasporic contexts. I will be engaging these narratives in conversation with my own story, in a bid to view alternative understandings and constructs of diasporic existence, particularly for second-generation migrants within religious communities. Furthermore, the hope is that a re-reading of these narratives may generate alternative theological considerations in light of the struggles of second-generation migrants. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In one of his recent books, Jean-Claude Larchet argued that the study of Hebrew is useless for those doing research in the field of Orthodox theology, since the Church fathers used the Greek version of the Old Testament (Septuagint). There are at least two reasons that might be advanced in order to prove the invalidity of Larchet’s thesis. First, fostering an attitude of ignorance as regards the Hebrew Bible might nurture anti-Judaic beliefs among Orthodox students, considering that such attitudes could be noticed in Romania during the interwar period. Second, the Fathers of the Church had a favorable attitude towards Hebrew, despite the fact that few of them actually knew that language. They held the belief that Hebrew was the primordial language through which God spoke to mankind in the beginning and through which the Old Testament was revealed. Both the Hebrew language and the Hebrew alphabet played a significant role in their theoretical considerations on the canon of the Holy Scripture. Since Larchet published his work in Romanian, his theses and their implications are discussed from the perspective and in the context of Romanian Orthodox theology.

Esther, Mordecai and the Jewish People’s survival in ancient Persia alert readers that anti-Semitism can exist even in professedly peaceful and progressive settings. Esther’s scroll is not only designed to be read, but it too reads contemporary circumstances of trauma and oppression. This Hebrew Bible narrative offers a critique and a challenge to present interpreters, especially those belonging to professed progressive and peaceful societies. Esther’s scroll exposes how the propaganda of peace and progress, foundational to various imperial and institutional contexts, can veneer structures and events of violence and trauma. Informed by the death-dealing realities of anti-Black racism, a reading of Esther’s key scenes and themes provides insight into the destructive and deadly ways that injustices such as anti-Black racism are supported and sustained by institutional policies and practices. Inherent within this Jewish survival account is an indictment of complicit and culpable individuals and institutions that enable, fund and sanction violence against marginalized members. Although there are numerous sites of oppression and violence throughout society, this essay highlights the institution of academia, which is often upheld as a paragon of progress and peace but which is frequently a prime site of racism and its attendant inequities. As a piece of trauma and survival literature, Esther’s scroll makes a valuable contribution to the repertoire of resilience and resistance curated by many Black individuals and communities to counter anti-Black racism.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is largely organized around its explicit reference to Milton’s retelling of Genesis 2–3, Paradise Lost. Unfortunately, this reference to Milton has discouraged scholars from going back to the Old Testament itself. In fact, the novel contains three crucial biblical allusions. Most obvious, of course, are the allusions to creation (Genesis 1–3), which contain details not found in Milton’s epic. The biblically literate reader will be able to discern two more crucial biblical allusions: one to Exodus 32–33 and the other to the Book of Job. In both of these texts, we find a man—Moses and Job, respectively—seeking an audience with his creator, such as that Adam and Eve enjoyed in the garden.

A recurrent theme in the Hebrew Bible is brotherly animosity. Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, and Solomon and Adonijah are but a few examples. This variety seems to reflect a fundamental conflict in ancient society. In this article, I argue that all these stories function as ethos myths. After describing the various stories with an attempt to single out the motivations behind them, they will be put into the social context that probably fueled them. Although the stories are extremely varied, they all share at least one common element, namely: it is always the younger brother who turns out to be God’s favorite. A second element is the jealousy of the older brother in the special status of the younger. Against the historical background of long-lasting civil war between the smaller kingdom of Judah and the larger, militarily stronger, and more financially stable kingdom of Israel, I argue that these stories were adapted to fit into the Judean narrative for the sake of strengthening its self-image as a small kingdom struggling against a stronger opponent who is motivated by jealousy. The mythical conflict reflects the complexity of the struggle between the two kingdoms, in which Judah identifies itself as being the ‘younger child’ or the ‘little brother’, who is blessed by God. Such myths give justification to the military struggle and feed the self-conviction narratives of the superiority of Judah as being divinely chosen.

The current article argues that Paul Mendes-Flohr’s turn to address contemporary challenges faced by Jews at large, and Israeli Jews in particular, is proleptic in the sense that it excavates the anticipation of the current intellectual, spiritual and moral reality from the intellectual history of modern German−Jewish thought. Based on a reading of his recent book, Cultural Disjunctions: Post-Traditional Jewish Identities, the discussion shows how Mendes-Flohr’s adaptation of Martin Buber’s call to aspire to I−Thou relations supports proleptic historiography both as a historiographical methodology and as a moral act.

There are a number of challenges faced by diasporic people, yet they all seem to be connected to one major issue: “identity”. Their narratives are built on questions surrounding who they are, when they are no longer living in/on their home/land. As they migrate to foreign lands, their notions of identity become clouded, and quite often they struggle to “belong”. Second-generation people could be heard asking: “Where do we belong?” “The lands our parents came from?” “Or the lands we now live?” “Is it both? Or is it neither?” “Do we even know who we are? How do we fit in? How do we survive?” The aim of this essay is to highlight the issue of diasporic identity in the narratives of three biblical migrants: Joseph, Esther, and Daniel. The purposes of these biblical accounts seem to reflect the ambivalence of diasporic existence, where they can achieve success but also experience adversity. Yet these narratives also deal with how identity is problematized in diasporic contexts. I will be engaging these narratives in conversation with my own story, in a bid to view alternative understandings and constructs of diasporic existence, particularly for second-generation migrants within religious communities. Furthermore, the hope is that a re-reading of these narratives may generate alternative theological considerations in light of the struggles of second-generation migrants.

This essay examines the antebellum history of interpretation surrounding the curse of Ham in Gen 9:18–29. It explores how modern notions of scientific racism were read into the story as a de facto justification for the transatlantic slave trade and the institution of slavery in the antebellum South. However, more than simply being used as a prooftext for racist agendas, the curse of Ham provided a biblical foil for circumscribing a racial hierarchy where whiteness was positioned as superior in the figure of Japheth. By considering key features of the racist antebellum interpretation, I argue that the proslavery rationalization of Christian antebellum writers is rooted in a deracialized whiteness that was biblically produced and blessed with divine authority.

Racial ideas which developed in the modern west were forged with reference to a Christian worldview and informed by the Bible, particularly the Old Testament. Up until Darwin’s scientific reframing of the origins debate, European and American race scientists were fundamentally Christian in their orientation. This paper outlines how interpretations of the Hebrew Bible within this Christian Weltanschauung facilitated the development and articulation of racial theories which burgeoned in western intellectual discourse up to and during the 19th century. The book of Genesis was a particular seedbed for identity politics as the origin stories of the Hebrew Bible were plundered in service of articulating a racial hierarchy which justified both the place of Europeans at the pinnacle of divine creation and the denigration, bestialization, and enslavement of Africans as the worst of human filiation. That the racial ethos of the period dictated both the questions exegetes posed and the conclusions they derived from the text demonstrates that biblical interpretation within this climate was never an innocuous pursuit, but rather reflected the values and beliefs current in the social context of the exegete.

This study offers a new approach for studying biblical myth in two directions: first, by expanding the scope of investigation beyond the clearly mythological elements to other areas of biblical literature, and second, by drawing comparisons to classical Chinese literature. This article thus reconsiders the relationship between myth and history in both biblical and Chinese literature, while seeking to broaden the endeavor of the comparative method in biblical studies. Two examples are offered: (1) the story of Moses’s call narrative and his relationship with Aaron in Exodus in light of the story of Xiang Liang and Xiang Ji in the Shiji; (2) the story of Saul and David in 1 Samuel compared with the story of Dong Zhuo and Lü Bu in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Both comparisons demonstrate the operation of Claude Lévi-Strauss’s inversion principle. Conclusions regarding each of these literatures are presented separately, followed by cross-cultural insights and shared aspects in the study of myth, historiography, and religion.

In this article, I argue that the history of the study of myth in the Hebrew Bible has been, and continues to be, shaped in negative ways by an essentially Romantic Nationalist understanding of the relationship between a people and their traditions. I then argue that more appropriate ways of modeling the construction of the Bible’s myths, combined with new investigations into the historical development of biblical traditions themselves, reveals a surprising continuity between the myth-making activity of biblical authors and editors and that of all those who retell and adapt biblical traditions in extrabiblical materials. I conclude that the existence of large-scale continuities between the adaptation of biblical traditions in different periods allows for a new kind of comparative investigation. By studying the use of biblical traditions in biblical literature, extrabiblical literature, and art, on approximately equal terms, we can gain new insights about the construction of biblical myths themselves, while connecting the study of the Hebrew Bible far more closely to the study of other bodies of tradition, elsewhere and later on.

This article presents the methodology and research underpinning the TheoArtistry Composers'Scheme, a project based in ITIA (the Institute for Theology, Imagination and the Arts), School of Divinity, University of St Andrews (2016-2017). I analyse Sir James MacMillan's theology of music, outline some practical and theoretical issues that arose in setting up theologian-composer partnerships, and reflect critically on the six new works of sacred choral music that emerged (these are printed as supplementary materials). The article assesses the implications of such collaboration for future work at the interface between theology and music, and between theology and the arts more generally. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article explores Shirley Kaufman’s reading of the Bible as an elaboration on/of its feminine characters via three devices: (a) Dramatic monologues, in which the woman speaks for herself (“Rebecca” and “Leah”); (b) description of specific scenes that gives us a glimpse into the character’s point of view (“His Wife”, “Michal”, “Abishag”, “The Wife of Moses”, “Yael”, and “Job’s Wife”); and (c) interweaving of the biblical context into contemporary reality (“Déjà Vu” and “The Death of Rachel”). Fleshing these figures out, Kaufman portrays the biblical women through contemporary lenses as a way of “coming to terms with the past” and the historical exclusion of “women’s bodies” from Jewish tradition, thereby giving them a voice and “afterlife”. Her treatment of the biblical texts can thus be viewed as belonging to the new midrashic-poetry tradition by Jewish-American women that has emerged as part of the Jewish feminist wave. Herein, Kaufman follows Adrienne Rich and Alicia Ostriker’s “re-visioning” of the Bible and in particularly its women, empowering them by making use of her/their own words.

In many religious education classrooms, the meaning of a sacred text is treated as something stable and authoritative. A teacher’s job is to transmit that meaning to students. This study reports on a year-long intervention conducted in a seventh grade Hebrew Bible classroom in which students were asked to find their own meaning in the biblical text. The study found that religious text classrooms can offer a unique opportunity to support positive youth development when an effective interpretive community is created.

This essay aims to provide a methodological framework for the application of zooarchaeology to the study of Israelite religion for the purpose of providing an overview of this growing subfield for the non-specialist and for inviting further conversation among practitioners. Definitions of “zooarchaeology„ and “Israelite religion„ are explored and the aim of reconstructing practices of Yahweh-centric religion is described. A methodology is suggested through a series of questions that may be applied to explorations of faunal remains, including those related to context, excavation technique and analysis, and engagement with the Hebrew Bible. The essay concludes with an illustration from Tel Dan and affirmation of integrated methodologies that critically engage archaeological and textual data to form new syntheses.

Historically, those studying Israelite religion have ignored the existence of women in Iron Age Israel (1200⁻587 BCE). They have, therefore, accounted neither for the religious beliefs of half of ancient Israel’s population nor for the responsibilities that women assumed for maintaining religious rituals and traditions. Such reconstructions of Israelite religion are seriously flawed. Only in the last four decades have scholars, primarily women, begun to explore women’s essential roles in Israel’s religious culture. This article utilizes evidence from the Hebrew Bible and from archaeological sites throughout Israel. It demonstrates that some women had roles within the Jerusalem Temple. Most women, however, resided in towns and villages throughout the Land. There, they undertook responsibility for clan-based and community-based religious rituals and rites, including pilgrimage, seasonal festivals, rites of military victory, and rites of mourning. They fulfilled, as well, essential roles within the sphere of domestic or household religion. At home, they provided medico-magical healing for all family members, as well as care for women and babies throughout pregnancy, childbirth, and beyond. They, and the men in their communities, worshipped Yahweh, Israel’s primary deity, and the goddess Asherah, as well; for most people, these two divinities were inextricably linked.

Through the centuries, scholars and readers have looked through a variety of lenses to discover what might be revealed by the story of Tsipporah's circumcision of her son in Exodus 4, and to assign meanings to it. The ambiguity of the language and the particular interests of readers in their contexts allow for a breadth of possibilities. However, in most cases, the son and his body fail to attract much scholarly concern. In this reading, I suggest that considering more intently the bodies of the son, Tsipporah, and the deity through the lens of affect theory offers a fresh understanding of Tsipporah's utterance following the cutting of her son's foreskin. Teresa Brennan's work on the transmission of affect breaks down the "foundational fallacy" of the individuated bodies of the three, allowing the deity's threat, the son's pain, and the mother's response to affect the way Tsipporah's words might be heard and understood. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Abraham Geiger’s 1833 essay launched a particular genre of research that posits foreign etymology for many terms in the Qur’ān. Whereas some work has been erudite, others have posited far-fetched concepts to the point where at least one author opines that Aramaic was the original language of the Qur’ān. Muslim exegetes have compounded the problem by seeking to interpret the Qur’ān on its own, without reference to other Abrahamic scriptures. I argue that Muhammad’s audience understood him clearly since he was using terms that had become part of the Arabic language long before his time. I examine three terms: islām, imān, and dīn, showing that the meaning of these words in the Qur’ān can be deciphered by reliance on context of usage and intertextuality. To this end, I refer to several verses of the Qur’ān as well as of the Hebrew Bible and Talmudic literature. A proper understanding of these words allows us to see Q3:19 and Q5:3 as pluralistic instead of the particularistic interpretation that most exegetes proffer.

This article presents the methodology and research underpinning the TheoArtistry Composers’ Scheme, a project based in ITIA (the Institute for Theology, Imagination and the Arts), School of Divinity, University of St Andrews (2016–2017). I analyse Sir James MacMillan’s theology of music, outline some practical and theoretical issues that arose in setting up theologian-composer partnerships, and reflect critically on the six new works of sacred choral music that emerged (these are printed as supplementary materials). The article assesses the implications of such collaboration for future work at the interface between theology and music, and between theology and the arts more generally.

Through the centuries, scholars and readers have looked through a variety of lenses to discover what might be revealed by the story of Tsipporah’s circumcision of her son in Exodus 4, and to assign meanings to it. The ambiguity of the language and the particular interests of readers in their contexts allow for a breadth of possibilities. However, in most cases, the son and his body fail to attract much scholarly concern. In this reading, I suggest that considering more intently the bodies of the son, Tsipporah, and the deity through the lens of affect theory offers a fresh understanding of Tsipporah’s utterance following the cutting of her son’s foreskin. Teresa Brennan’s work on the transmission of affect breaks down the “foundational fallacy” of the individuated bodies of the three, allowing the deity’s threat, the son’s pain, and the mother’s response to affect the way Tsipporah’s words might be heard and understood.