The Prologue explores different kinds of context for the Ancient Greek section of the book. It starts by looking at comparative ancient contexts, before looking at Ancient Greek literary treatments of stasis which use antithesis. It includes some further methodological reflections.

Through a close analysis of the diction used by medieval translators of the biblical narrative in which Adam names the non-human animals, this introduction presents the book’s scope and argument. The first human seems to have had no difficulty giving the other animals their names, his success implicitly communicating his dominance as a rational, speaking creature; exegetes like Augustine pressed this point, citing the naming narrative as evidence for humanity’s status as the only rational animal. However, the medieval translators who rendered the naming scene in words of their own seemed notably less confident than Adam, their texts differing from one another in ways that suggest the discovery of uncertainty and confusion, rather than intuitive transparency, where speech and species intersect. The difficulty reflects fundamental features of the medieval lexicon employed to articulate the relationship between speech, reason, and species identity: Crucial terms such as animal and beste were ambiguous and inconsistent in meaning, leaving the precise place of the rational-discursive faculty in a state of suspense.

Chapter 2 (The Biblical Portrayal of Transgressive Worship): In this chapter, I focus on the texts of the Hebrew Bible. I argue that these texts, when they picture the worship of other gods or the reverence of their icons, consistently assume that such worship is sincere (or, at the very least, do not question its sincerity).

The significance of the Old Testament for human history and culture is undeniable. Whatever our personal convictions regarding its content, the Old Testament contains the origins of nearly everything we think about God. Variously labeled as the Hebrew Bible, the Tanak, the First Testament, and the Old Testament, among others, this library of texts from ancient Israel has been preserved for more than two thousand years.

Emerging from the polytheistic context of the ancient world, the enduring significance of the Old Testament is to be found in the concept of monotheism. Indeed, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam share in this unique religious legacy. We will discover in this chapter what lies behind the terminology we use when we speak of monotheism, and how the Old Testament perceives and develops the understanding of a singular God. Known to ancient Israel as Yahweh, Israel’s God came to be understood as Creator, source of all, and sovereign over all. Only in time would Israel come to believe that Yahweh was not only its God, and the God Israelites were called to worship, but the one and only God.

What sort of thing are the narratives of the life of Jesus, literarily speaking? (History? Biography? Fiction? Myth?) And what bearing does their genre have on the manner of interpretation proper to them? This chapter attends to Origen’s account of the Gospels’ genre, literary precedents, and relationship to other forms of ancient literature in order to establish why he believes the Gospels cannot be read as transparently historical narratives. Here, I propose that the kind of narratives Origen believes the Evangelists compose is directly comparable to the stories one finds throughout the scriptures of Israel. Furthermore, Origen also relates the Gospels’ literary similarity to Jewish biblical narrative to the way they both share a similarly complex relationship to facticity. The Gospels, in sum, all narrate the deeds, sufferings, and words of Jesus “under the form of history”; these historical narratives are of a mixed character, interweaving things that happened with things that didn’t and even couldn’t, with an eye toward presenting the events recorded to have happened to Jesus figuratively.

In this chapter, the subjection of the Israelites in Egypt and their later liberation from oppression is examined with extracts from the Hebrew Torah, and the Greek Septuagint. The vocabulary of servitude of both Hebrew and Greek is discussed through the account of Joseph’s service and disgrace in the house of Potiphar, followed by the suffering of the Israelites, the later descendants of Jacob. The oppression inflicted by the Egyptians and their pharaoh on the Israelites in Egypt is to be seen in their forced labour in making bricks and construction work. Liberation involved leaving the country together, under the leadership of Moses. A final section examines a few further literary texts dating from the Hellenistic and Roman periods that treat related Jewish subjects.

This chapter copes with the challenge of portraying a divinity which is supposed to be nameless and imageless, and evoked by ‘abstract’ notions such as the ‘God’, the ‘Lord’, the ‘Name’ or even the ‘Place’. The bans on pronouncing his name and depicting his image are two faces of the same coin: to explore in a new and unpredictable way his identity. Starting from the role played by names in ancient Near Eastern traditions and in the Hebrew Bible, this chapter explores the onomastic puzzle of the biblical god, who holds many names, but whose name YHWH is the only one regarded as a proper name and revealed by himself to Moses. Such a central and enigmatic name is interpreted as a promise of presence and assistance to the people god chose on earth (Israel). The onomastic connection between YHWH and the Jews never ceased to strike external observers and produced many misunderstandings, and even mystifications, in the history of the research of the biblical divine names.