Palmyra, the famous oasis city in the Syrian Desert, has long been a subject of study. It is often brought to the forefront as a case study on trade networks, elite culture and local religious life. However, over the course of the last decades the data available from the city now allows us to investigate new facets of the city’s life, its culture, and its social and religious structure. This contribution provides a short introduction to the history and archaeology of the city as well as the history of research, before turning to the ways in which Palmyra was not only unique in the sense that through its location in an oasis and as a major trade hub it came to hold a pivotal role in the region for a while in the Roman period but can also be studied in a unique light in its relation to the Mediterranean world through the evidence from the city.

This chapter juxtaposes Palmyrene funerary portraiture with the portraiture of Egypt and Pannonia in the first three centuries AD to discern stylistic connections between the provincial centres as well as to the portraiture produced in Rome. Due to its inherently subjective (and hence, flawed) nature, the notion of style as an interpretative framework has fallen by the wayside in archaeology and art history. This chapter will return to the concept of style and evaluate its helpfulness in determining the significance of Palmyrene funerary portraiture in the context of Roman provincial portraiture. Is it appropriate to describe Palmyrene portraiture as ‘Roman’ in style, or perhaps, ‘eastern Mediterranean’, and at what point does it become ‘Palmyrene’? A better understanding of the place of this portraiture in terms of style, not only in antiquity but also in contemporary analyses of funerary portraiture in the Roman world, enhances our ability to interpret its significance at the local level.

After underlining the importance and currency of the topic of leadership, the introduction of the volume sets out to explain the content and merits of the present volume. The chapters of the volume make significant contributions to the following topics: (a) the vocabulary of ancient leadership: the authors study terms and concepts related to leadership in several ancient civilisations (Mesopotamia, Egypt, Iran, Israel, China, Greece, Rome, and the Late Roman Empire), providing clarifications as to their different nuances; (b) the diverse forms of leadership: the essays of the volume deal with good and bad leaders, intellectual and political leaders, imperial and local, thus highlighting the complexity of the phenomenon of leadership in antiquity; (c) theoretical reflections on leadership: the analysis proposed enables readers to trace elements of leadership theory in ancient civilisations. The merits of this investigation consist in encouraging a comparative reflection on ancient civilisations and in triggering also a critical reflection on modern leadership issues.

As is commonly known, both Ptolemaic and Seleucid rulers in the wake of Alexander the Great claimed divine worship. This phenomenon was also reflected in ancient Jewish literature. In the first part, this chapter aims at describing the time of Antiochus IV (175–164 bc) as the historical framework in which a specific confrontation with the Hellenistic ruler ideology is evident. In the second part, the chapter uses 2 Macc 9 (‘the death of Antiochus IV’) and the Book of Judith as examples as to how selected deuterocanonical writings (e.g. 2 Maccabees and Judith) have dealt with the encounter with the Hellenic ruler cult in a narrative discourse. Both cases demonstrate God’s help and power, which becomes obvious through the cruel death of the ruler who claimed for himself divinity.

This chapter turns from the question of the Gospels’ literary form to that of their literary formation. According to David Strauss, no preceding understanding of the Gospels shared closer proximity to the emerging “mythical point of view” than “ancient allegorical interpretation” – an astonishing claim left unexamined since his Life of Jesus was first published. Strauss’s comparison of the mythical and allegorical views cuts closer to the heart of Origen’s sense of the figurative nature of the Gospels than any other account of early criticism of the Gospels. Nevertheless, I challenge Strauss’s final charge of unrestrained interpretive “arbitrariness” resulting from Origen’s view. I show instead that Origen locates the formation of the Gospel narratives in the Evangelists freely “making use” of the traditions they had received for their own purposes, freedom reflected in the distinctive (even discordant) characteristics of their narratives, which differ according to how the authors sought, “each in his own way,” to “teach what they had perceived in their own mind by way of figures.” Thus, for Origen, the Evangelists themselves were “figurative readers” of the life of Jesus.

As soon as one comes to terms with Origen’s historiographically and literarily sensitive criteria for how to read and understand the Gospel narratives, one may realize that the Gospels have simultaneously formed his vision of what history itself is by presenting this life to us “under the form of history” and “in figures” they reveal that history is itself a “sign of something.” Thus, for Origen, when one finally reaches into the “depths of the evangelical mind” and discerns “the naked truth of the figures therein,” one discovers a “spiritual Gospel,” yes, but one breaks through the “shell” of these historical narratives only to find history anew, even one’s very own, transfigured and “taken up into the Gospel” – the eternal Gospel – whose sacrament is the glorified Son of Man.

7.1 [472] His Excellency Julian has not only denounced the holy scriptures; he furthermore speaks so impudently and has gone so far in his love of casting blame as to reach a point where nothing we do escapes his slander. Perhaps he thought doing so would bring him a good reputation. But some might well say about people opting for this mindset, “their glory is in their shame,”1 as well, I would suggest, as that statement made in the voice of David, “Why do you, who are powerful in lawlessness, boast in wickedness? Your tongue has planned injustice all day long; […] you loved all the words of your deluge, your treacherous tongue.”2