Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha

The significant consensus in contemporary scholarship on the connection between the message of 4 Ezra and the figure of Ezra’s transformation in 4 Ezra also seems to be accompanied by tendencies to contrast the rational against the experiential, and an implied incoherence in the way that the author articulates deterministic notions on the one hand and human moral responsibility on the other hand. I argue that the existential component of Ezra’s transformation is underlaid by the rational. To illustrate, I apply Lorenzo DiTommaso’s framing of Ezra’s “conversion” to the author’s articulation of determinism. Ezra’s pre-conversion deterministic thinking is rooted in the Deuteronomic pattern whereas Ezra’s post-conversion determinism is thoroughly apocalyptic. A rational coherence underscores the author’s articulation of human moral responsibility and the latter view. The rational coherence of these two elements is essential for the author’s goal of effecting conversion and frames moral action as a symbolic performance of collective identity for the text’s implied community.

The Apocalypse of John and 2 Baruch are Jewish apocalypses in which the authors and their communities wrestle with the question of what Israel’s being chosen as God’s people means in view of the destruction of the second temple and shifting historical circumstances. Both works uphold God’s faithfulness toward Israel but define it in different ways. While 2 Baruch stresses the validity of Torah, the Apocalypse of John emphasizes the role of the Messiah for his people. Both apocalypses, however, uphold that God’s people can only be defined as the people of the twelve tribes and thus try to put the Israel of their works in the closest possible continuity with the Israel of the Hebrew scriptures. On a form-critical level, visionary depictions of Israel are combined with letter-writing forms, making both works an interesting phenomenon of “epistolary apocalypses.”

The Semeia 14 definition of the genre apocalypse (1979) is a landmark in the study of early Jewish and Christian apocalyptic literature. In a recent article in this journal, Benjamin E. Reynolds argues that scholars have over-emphasized the definition’s temporal component against its spatial component, and the eschatology of texts against their form. This imbalance has resulted in the misidentification of the genre and the misapplication of the label “apocalyptic” in the literature. He proposes to return to the strict use of the definition and thus a restoration of the centrality of its spatial component and generic form. While Reynolds’s attempt to restore balance is welcome, his methodology is problematic. For example, although his solution relies on a strict application of the definition, he uses its components selectively. In addition, his distinction between eschatology and apocalyptic is based on a categorical error and is not reflected in the ancient evidence. Both issues impair Reynolds’s use of the definition to detect false positives (works that have been improperly labeled apocalypses or apocalyptic) and false negatives (texts that are not normally regarded as apocalypses or apocalyptic but which in fact are). Most importantly, the genre apocalypse as defined in Semeia 14 is a weak diagnostic category. As such, the genre cannot adjudicate the application of the label “apocalyptic” across its myriad expressions.

There is a well-known wordplay in the story of the Garden of Eden created by the juxtaposed descriptions of the human and his woman as ערומים and the snake as ערום (Gen 2:25–3:1). Conventionally translated “naked” and “crafty,” respectively, the wordplay hints at hidden layers of meaning that add richness and complexity to the text. This essay suggests similar intentional ambiguity associated with related lexemes is a feature of wise sayings from the Aramaic book of Ahiqar and the biblical book of Proverbs. The Aramaic fable of the leopard and the goat (C1.1. 166–168a) employs the cognate lexeme ערי. Reading through rhetorical, philological, and comparative lenses, it is proposed that the text constructs multiple layers of meaning. The key to these, in the animal fable, is the different connotations of “covering” associated with Aramaic כסי pael and Hebrew כסה piel and their derivatives, in particular, the sense of provisioning. This latter sense is interconnected with an interpretation of Aramaic ערי and Hebrew ערום, often glossed “naked,” as, primarily, “destitute” or “emptyhanded” and in need of provisioning. Finally, the co-occurrence of the lexemes ערום “crafty” and כסה piel in Prov 12:16, 23 inspires a re-examination of these sayings, raising the possibility of layers of ambiguity not previously considered.

Fourth Maccabees recounts the torture and execution of nine pious Jews by the Seleucid king Antiochus IV. It mentions laughter at key moments in the text, sometimes showing that anybody who disagrees with its thesis earns derisive laughter, and others dramatizing the laughter thrown at Jews for no good reason. As one Jewish hero faces execution, he tells Antiochus that he will not abandon his dietary laws to escape death, because that would make him a laughable hypocrite. “You will not laugh this laugh against me,” he exclaims. I situate 4 Maccabees within discourses of laughter from Jewish and Stoic sources of the early Roman empire to identify what Eleazar means by “this laugh” that he will prevent Antiochus from having. I argue that 4 Maccabees synthesizes a general view that laughter punishes wrongdoing with a Stoic distinction between earned and unearned derisive laughter. This resolves the tension of simultaneously knowing that derisive laughter should function as a consequence for impropriety and that Roman Jews face such laughter without impropriety. Fourth Maccabees provides Roman Jews an escape from the shame of laughter, even if it cannot plot an escape from the laughter itself.