Biblical studies is currently seeing resurgent interest in comparing the Hebrew Bible and ancient Greek literature. However, classical philosophy has been underrepresented in this work. This article argues that this underrepresentation stems from historical-critical scholars’ suspicion of “Athens and Jerusalem,” the essentialization of classical philosophy and the Hebrew Bible as, respectively, “reason” and “revelation”—the “twin pillars of Western civilization.” Such essentialism violates the historical-critical principle of cultural continuity. Wariness of it is therefore justified. However, avoiding classical philosophy only exacerbates the problem. If Greek literature is a legitimate historical-critical comparandum for the Hebrew Bible, then classical philosophy should be as well. Through case studies in the biblical prophets and Plato, this article shows how this comparison may contribute on two levels: first-order comparison, in which classical philosophy provides new data for understanding the Hebrew Bible in its ancient context; and second-order comparison, in which scholarship on classical philosophy raises metacritical questions about biblical studies itself.

Attributes of familial relationships, ascribed in biblical metaphors to YHWH and Israel, can be traced back to ancient Near Eastern mythological and diplomatic concepts. In Hosea 11, the dynamic between YHWH and Israel mirrors political and authoritarian conventions prevalent in that era. Israel is depicted as an adopted son of God, analogous to an Egyptian or Assyrian monarch whose authority derives from a divine heritage. Simultaneously, Israel assumes the role of a subjugated and devoted son, akin to a vassal subdued according to the norms of the ancient Near East. As a result, the characteristics of the chosen son in Hosea 11 blend attributes of both a king and a vassal, two entities who have no influence over their own chosen status. Consequently, Israel’s position is best described as that of a “divine vassal,” one whose privileges are affirmed, while his very existence and territorial rights remain in perpetual jeopardy.

This study reconstructs the numerological considerations behind a Judeo-Greek innovation in religious terminology, with a focus on its key element—Hellenization of the Hebrew name of God. It demonstrates that the Greek nomen sacrum can also be interpreted as a sacred number, a fact that directly infuses the otherwise broad term κύριος with numinosity. This observation carries multiple implications for understanding the phenomena of nomina sacra and “names-numbers” as well as other related topics, such as the emergence of Greek and Hebrew alphabetic numerals, early Jewish and Christian numeric symbolism, and early binitarian theology.

Scholars almost universally identify “the great multitude that no one could count from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” (Rev 7:9) as a multi-ethnic gathering of the nations. However, this language could also describe a regathered twelve tribes of Israel taken out from the places where they had been scattered among the nations. Such a referent is plausible because of the widespread belief in the continued existence of the twelve tribes and the persistent hope of their regathering. It can also better account for the vision’s pervasive echoes of the repatriation theme from Israel’s ancestral writings (7:9–17) and the preceding vision’s enumeration of the 144,000 from all the tribes of Israel (7:4–8)—widely understood to be the same group as the innumerable multitude. If this referent is correct, it suggests that the New Jerusalem (21:1–22:5) is also populated by a restored Israel.

Cyprian of Carthage’s On the Lapsed, written in the aftermath of the third-century Decian persecution, contains several stories of the eucharist attacking apostate Christians. These Christians claimed they had been admitted to the eucharist by local, highly esteemed martyrs and confessors. Cyprian, who had fled during the persecution and been unpopular since the day of his election, could not afford to confront this group directly. Instead, he crafted a text that conjured up an autonomous eucharist that policed itself against unworthy intruders. Moreover, he used the graphic language of bodily suffering and dismemberment to scramble the boundaries between lapsed Christian, bishop, and martyr, essentially reconfiguring himself as a martyr.

In 1 Timothy 2, the author claims that Eve alone was deceived, and not Adam, yet women can be saved through childbirth. In Or. 37, Gregory of Nazianzus construes Genesis 3 differently, insisting that both Eve and Adam were deceived and that both will be saved in the same manner. This article considers whether Gregory performs a subtly transgressive rewriting of 1 Timothy. To corroborate that Gregory is engaging 1 Timothy, rather than disregarding it, the article surveys early Christian reception of 1 Tim 2:14 through the lens of Elizabeth A. Clark’s categories of ascetic reading, and it explores how women function in Gregory’s corpus and how his own interpretive principles could render a transgressive rewriting intelligible. It concludes that Gregory may be transgressing 1 Timothy after the pattern of Jesus transgressing the Mosaic law on divorce, a spiritual transgression.

This article identifies a development in rabbinic discourse about Torah study. Whereas early texts contrast study with activities like earning a living, the Palestinian Talmud presents a new debate in which study stands in binary opposition to activities otherwise considered part of the life of Torah, such as good deeds and prayer. This debate shaped the eventually dominant view of the rabbinic sage as primarily, or even exclusively, a scholarly figure. The article shows how this discourse was formulated through adaptation of earlier sources and considers how it may have responded to broader transformations in the sages’ world.

A remarkable tale in the Babylonian Talmud (b. Qidd. 81a–b) recounts how Pelimo, who regularly exclaimed “an arrow in Satan’s eye!,” ironically attracts Satan’s personal attention. Disguised as a pauper, Satan wreaks havoc until he ultimately offers an alternative apotropaic formula—a biblical verse (Zech 3:2)—for Pelimo to use against him. While often read as a moral allegory, this article argues that the story is rooted in late antique Babylonian notions about demons and apotropaic practices, as evidenced in incantation bowls, amulets, and related objects. The narrative not only presumes this cultural context but actively engages it—contrasting two protective formulae and casting Satan as an advocate for one. In doing so, it reveals how rabbis participated in broader debates over the legitimacy and efficacy of different magical practices, using narrative as a tool of persuasion. Comparison with other Talmudic passages further highlights evolving rabbinic views on ritual power and the shifting role of biblical verses in Jewish magic.

Although manuscripts are, literally, old media, they are also breaking news. This article reports from a study of scholars of ancient religions’ experiences with media engagement concerning manuscript finds and forgeries. Inspired by a mediatization-of-science perspective, the study explores the motivations for and involvement in public-facing scholarship, as well as the experienced effects of and reactions to their media exposure. Focusing on the challenges of media publicity in particular, the study discusses how the current impact and publicity agenda of contemporary universities affects individual academics.

The findings of this article are based on interviews with a sample of experts who, during the last twenty-five years, have shared their expertise in public-facing media outlets about the Gospel of Judas, the Hazon Gabriel tablet, the Jehoash inscription, the post-2002 Dead Sea Scrolls-like fragments, the so-called Gospel of Jesus’s Wife, the Sappho papyri, and the manuscript purchases of the Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C.