Bible

The literary study of the genealogies in 1 Chr 1-9 has recently received a number of significant contributions, and this paper attempts to be a part of that growing trend. The paper analyzes the literary design of two lists—Judah’s sons and Zerah’s sons (1 Chr 2:3-8)—and shows that the uniform design of the two lists intends to present the rejection of certain branches of the tribe of Judah on account of their representatives’ sins (Er, Achar) as a background for the electing of King David. Afterwards, a literary parallel is examined between the characters of Er and Achar and the character of Saul in 1 Chr 10:13-14. This parallel has implications for the structure of the book and the relationship between its two parts: the genealogies (1 Chr 1-9) and the historiography (1 Chr 10-2 Chr 36).

The assumption that many of the large sums in the Hebrew Bible are exaggerated is broadly accepted, specifically regarding numbers in Chronicles. While many numbers in this book are known to be fabricated, apart from a few exceptions it is unclear why the Chronicler chose to use specific numbers. This paper will focus on the specified numbers for the armies of six Judean kings, with an emphasis on the sequence of the first four kings of Judah – Rehoboam, Abiah, Asa and Jehoshaphat. An analysis of these numbers reveals that they are evidently artificial, and were inserted by the Chronicler according to an unexpected – yet clear – systematic pattern, which in turn was arranged in a chiastic sequance. I posit that these numbers are employed as a literary device integral to the overall design of the kings’ accounts, which reflect – through a number of themes and motifs – a rise of power and development from the time of Rehoboam’s reign until Jehoshaphat’s. This discovery prompts future research of the artistic reason behind the use of other numbers in Chronicles and the entire Hebrew Bible.

This article focuses on the specified numbers for the armies of the Judean kings in the book of Chronicles, with an emphasis on the sequence of the first four kings of Judah, and reveals that they were inserted by the Chronicler according to a clear systematic pattern. These numbers are employed as a literary device which reflect a rise of power and development from the time of Rehoboam’s reign until Jehoshaphat’s, and a gradual decline until Ahaz.

This essay explores the meeting scene between Isaac and Jacob in Gen 27:18-29. The repetition of Isaac's act of blessing in vv. 23 and 27 exposes the parallel structure of the scene, and Isaac's dual test to determine his son's identity. This structure emphasizes the importance of the sensory tests and Esau's external identity markers-his hairy hands and the scent of the field-that convinced Isaac to bless the son standing before him. These identity markers are not merely technical; they are literary devices that point to Esau's character and hint at the motivation behind Isaac's desire to bless Esau instead of Jacob. These motives are clarified through an analysis of Esau's traits, links to Isaac's personality, and the nature of the blessings he had intended for Esau. The conclusions contribute to a better understanding of the scene and resolve some of the fundamental difficulties in the blessings narrative of Gen 27:1-28:9.

This paper deals with forms and expressions that appear to have been in use in mishnaic Hebrew. Although the vocalizer of MS Kaufmann (Budapest A50) of the Mishnah has deleted them by scraping the vellum, it may be possible to reconstruct them by examining their traces in the original manuscript and through application of linguistic inferencing. I demonstrate several methods of restoration and explore three sample forms in detail. The first is the verb לחלח (‘to moisten’), which might be thought to postdate the Mishnah. But, as shown here, the scribe did in fact use this verb in his original copy (Nid. 7:2). The second is the verb קצע (‘to trim’) in a special usage, ‘to cut off [one's hand]’ (B. Qam. 8:1, 7). The third is the name of a pagan festival dedicated to the Roman caesars. I conjecture that the original name was a Greek term meaning ‘resurrection, rebirth’ (‘Abod. Zar. 1:3).