Reflections on SBL 2010: Planning and Strategy
I love a great many things about our annual biblical scholarship geek fest and post-meeting blogged reflections have become a favorite tradition. As Deane Galbraith’s astoundingly awesome November biblical studies carnival attests, many others have beaten me to the punch, but there’s always room for one more.
First off: how my approach to the conference has evolved over the past several years. I began my SBL-goings not too long ago at the DC meeting, while I was still in my M.Div. program at Fuller. I was lucky enough to have a bunch of friends at the meeting (especially as it was combined with AAR at the time) and ran into professors, old and new. So, there was some social element to the experience, but my approach to the meeting at the time was still predominantly a solitary experience. I packed my days to see sessions featuring topics or scholars who interested me (“the SBL tart thing . . . flitting between several different sessions of interest“), perhaps those scholars with whom I might like to study in the future.
Also, I still remember having been invited via email by a scholar to come up and chat with him at a reception. Even though he had invited me to chat with him, I hovered outside outside the reception, watching the swarm of other grad students move around with him, drooling at the chance to get a word with him. I believe I was literally shaking with trepidation. I finally mustered up the courage to exchange a few words. I didn’t really know what to say or how to say it, so it wasn’t the most fruitful conversation, but at least I had it.
I found the solitary and wide-net approach interesting and enlightening, but ultimately, exhausting and perhaps not as helpful as I would have liked. Going to interesting-looking sessions did not really help me find my research niche, which was a big struggle for me while I was at Fuller–It took me quite some time to articulate or even realize that social historical work was my true passion. What this conference strategy did provide, however, was a broad perspective on what is out there. And I did find this one session that just blew my mind at how helpful it was for a prospective doctoral student, even though that wasn’t the intended audience.
Having narrowed my current scope of research since then, I now attend far fewer sessions. In planning my conference, I picked out basically five categories of attendable sessions (in a fairly accurate hierarchy):
- those with which I was directly involved
- those which directly related to my current research (apocalyptic discourse, group identity formation)
- those with which my friends were involved as panelists or presiders
- those connected to groups with which I am affiliated (Student Advisory Board, Mennonites, bloggers)
- those that offered insights into more pragmatic concerns (pedagogy, publishing)
That’s now how I plan ahead of time. While at the conference, I let some of the sessions of lesser importance slide, in order to get some time to chat with friends or wander around the book exhibitions and lobbies, hoping to bump into people. In the end, this year I went to two and a half sessions, four individual papers (without staying for the rest of the sessions), one board meeting, and . . . at least ten receptions.
I also planned to have half or more of my meals blocked out for meetings with people with whom I’d like to stay connected or get more connected. These meals were some of the most important moments I have had at SBL. And no matter how exhausted I am, I always try to hit as many evening receptions as possible (hence, ten). That’s where the real networking/socializing happens. Thankfully, I have moved on past my days of cowardly hovering and trembling outside the receptions.
The ultimate highlight of the conference for me, as many others have noted, is found in the social connections. Not the books. Not the papers. I tried to write down all the names of people with whom I remembered having at least a five minute (often longer) conversation or otherwise made some significant social connection. The list came out to around 50-60 people: some really big names, some up-and-coming junior faculty, some old friends, some current peers, some prospective grad students looking for advice, etc. Some of these conversations were fairly easy, others I was trying my darnedest to sound intelligent and/or witty.
Apropos to this post, take a gander at Matthew Dowling’s “first-timer impressions“. A lot of great thoughts there–although the closest I have come to a worship service during SBL has been the Mennonite Scholars and Friends festivities. We Mennos like have a very communal understanding of worship anyway.
Up next: some thoughts on networking.
“Apocalyptic” Snapshot
The word “apocalypse” or “apocalyptic” means something entirely different in popular parlance than it does in the study of early Judaism and Christianity. It is entirely general and usually means: something really bad, most likely out of one’s control (often the weather). What is at times interesting the responses one has towards the putatively “apocalyptic” situation: merely observational, apathy, frustration, getting preachy, inspiring motivation to do something or a reason to give up doing something.
In my Twitter application, TweetDeck, I decided to open a column in which I would casually follow how people use the terms. Here’s a snapshot from some “apocalyptic” tweets today:
- @avenyc: This weather is creepily apocalyptic and makes me want to cuddle up with hot cocoa and a nice 90s chick-flick.
- @JoanneMONeill: Apocalyptic weather is my favourite kind of weather to stay indoors and do homework in.
- @Angieclysmic: Your PSA for the day: Don’t be retarded and drive like a maniac when it is apocalyptic outside.
- @tiredlegs: feel surreal, apocalyptic, but mostly in need of a hug.
- @nikkistrick: Today is apparently a traffic apocalypse.
- @bheddle: One day we will look back to discover what sparked the apocalypse and the answer will be: when Fran Drescher was given a talk show.
- @DashSpeaks: The apocalypse just fuucked up my sneakers
- @CllrMcKiernan: Apocalyptic scenes in Dublin tonight, far more pedestrian traffic than normal, buses abandoned where they stuck – as if the rapture struck!
- @4dams: It’s like these greedy tycoons are hording the world’s wealth to wait out post peak oil apocalyptic doom. Hey…wait!
So: weather, traffic, and financial/economy-related. Missing in this snapshot: environmental/climate change, military/war. I’m certainly picking and choosing from today’s tweets. There’s a whole lot of stuff. I’m filtering out anything about zombies or the oft-used film reference to Apocalypse Now and anything post-apocalyptic (usually something about some movie, TV show, or book). Even with those filters, you still get a bunch of nonsense. The “sign of the apocalypse” thing is way overused (e.g., bheddle above): basically pick something entirely unexpected or something you really don’t like and say it’s a sign of the apocalypse. A variation on “hell has frozen over.” Also, I knew I would see it, but looking at this Twitter search, I am still astounded at how quickly people resort to apocalyptic language when discussing the weather. I should probably filter out “rain,” “snow,” “outside,” and “weather” and see what happens.
On a related note, check out Monday’s article in The Chronicle by Michael Ruse, “The Doom Boom: Religious Roots of Environmental Armageddon.”
First Encounter with the Exciting SBLGNT and Its Limited Apparatus
Many in the biblical studies world have heard by now that the new edition of the Greek New Testament (SBLGNT), a joint project of the SBL and Logos Bible Software, and edited by Michael Holmes, is available for free download. It’s exciting news. Lately, I haven’t been doing much detailed text critical work in the NT and thus it doesn’t have a major impact on my current research at the moment. I am excited, however, to see where the SBLGNT differs from the NA/UBS text as I work through apocalyptic passages this year. The most exciting thing about this edition is perhaps how it can be accessed and used by anyone from anywhere for free. Maybe something like the Greek NT on the former zhubert.com can return again.
As I was taking a gander at the apparatus, however, I was a little confused. Looking through the verses, you find no mention of any actual manuscripts. The only cited variations referred to other critical editions of the texts. Further, it looked like the NA was hardly mentioned at all in the apparatus — what about that claim of so many differences from the NA text? Then I noticed this note: “NA is explicitly cited only when it differs from NIV.” Really? Why is the Greek edition underlying the NIV more of a standard than the that of NA/UBS? Is there a theological preference being exhibited here?
Next I read the Introduction:
The starting point for the SBLGNT was the edition of Westcott and Hort. First, the WH text was modified to match the orthographic standards of the SBLGNT (described below). Next, the modified version was compared to the other three primary editions (Treg, NIV, and RP) in order to identify points of agreement and disagreement between them. Where all four editions agreed, the text was tentatively accepted as the text of the SBL edition; points of disagreement were marked for further consideration. The editor then worked systematically through the entire text, giving particular attention to the points of disagreement but examining as well the text where all four editions were in agreement. Where there was disagreement among the four editions, the editor determined which variant to print as the text; occasionally a reading not found in any of the four editions commended itself as the most probable representative of the text and therefore was adopted. Similarly, where all four texts were in agreement, the editor determined whether to accept that reading or to adopt an alternative variant as the text. In this manner, the text of the SBLGNT was established.
Seems like an interesting approach. The feeling of the apparatus, however, and the way this introductory remark makes examining points of agreement in the editions an afterthought had me resonating with a comment on the Logos blog from Jim Lowther:
I am very hesitant to embrace a Greek text that confuses printed editions (if I understand the preface correctly) with primary textual witnesses. I would much prefer resources based on the UBS/NA text, since that is not only the defacto standard, but also represents the result of meticulous direct interaction with manuscripts. It seems to me that the SBL Greek New Testament is a step or two removed.
Rick Brannon, who I gather developed the technical infrastructure for the project, responds with a helpful and informative comment:
It is most definitely not meant to list evidence in the editions as the primary evidence for or against a reading, or to give the sole evidence the editor (Michael W. Holmes) considered in reviewing a variation. Instead, the editions were used as a sort of “first pass” to determine where most areas of variation exist in the text. Dr. Holmes reviewed the entire text, both where the consulted editions agreed completely and where they disagreed in some way. . . . You can be sure that we don’t intend the apparatus to the SBLGNT to be a replacement for the apparatus to the NA27, and we do not intend it to be used instead of the apparatus to the NA27. The SBLGNT apparatus is more about showing what the editions say at a given variation unit so that the reader is aware of possible alternate readings.
Holmes himself also commented on the process on the ETC blog, including: “In all, there are fifty-six variation units in the SBLGNT where I preferred a reading not found in the text of any of the four primary editions.” He also notes:
Thus there are many interesting places of variation in the manuscript tradition that are not noticed in this limited apparatus. . . . As will be clear from the nature and scope of the apparatus, this text may be considered a “reading edition,” with the apparatus serving to alert the reader to the more important places where there are differences between editions of the Greek NT and to indicate how other editions have handled matters.
I see where Holmes indicates he has looked past the critical editions, but I would probably get even more excited about an edition that made a more radical starting point. I imagine that the initial comparison of the four critical editions was done by software — perhaps even Logos itself. Well, what if software performed the initial comparison of all extant manuscripts? The results could even be altered by the use of some rubric or formula by which the editor could choose which variables (timelines, “if…then” scenarios) determine the hierarchy of the resulting edition, which could also produce a full critical apparatus noting the variations in manuscripts. Heck, maybe this search itself could someday be offered to the masses via Logos, so that anyone owning the appropriate version of the software could produce their own critical editions. Further, it’d be great to see things like a hover-over feature for all manuscripts that tells you the historical information about that particular manuscript, it’s estimated approximate date, where it was found, etc. It would have to be very user-friendly, but I think Logos is up to the task.
I just say these things because I like to dream big about technology and biblical studies. It really is an exciting edition. I have profound admiration and respect for Mike Holmes — and great gratitude towards Logos and SBL!
Surprise! I’m a California Humanities Scholar . . .

I was very pleasantly surprised — flabbergasted, one might say — to discover today that I was nominated and have been appointed as one of the very select group of 2010-11 California Humanities Scholars, a program sponsored by the University of California Humanities Research Institute. The program appoints only up to three graduate students per UC campus and the Scholars are expected to engage in online digital media together as a virtual network exploring Humanities research:
The purpose of the California Humanities Scholars Program is to recognize graduate students working across the broad range of humanities at the University of California and to use their collective expertise, interests and collaborative energy to create a dynamic and interactive virtual network. California Humanities Scholars are “Citizen Journalists,” reporting on the work happening on their campuses and in their various communities by blogging, tweeting, vlogging, podcasting and other forms of online networking.
It’s an exciting idea and opportunity. A related program, HASTAC (pronounced “haystack”), has been created for grad students “who are engaged with innovative projects and research at the intersection of digital media and learning, 21st century education, the digital humanities, and technology in the arts, humanities and social science.” I gather they have been active for a couple months now.
A few folks I have found online thus far include Desiree D’Allesandro (UCSB), Richard Mehlinger (UCR), Amanda Phillips (UCSB), Jessica Beard (UCSC), and some others too. Things are just kinda warming up and some have been more active than others.
Obviously this is something that has relevance to the blog and I hope to gather some posts on humanities here and elsewhere. I’ll keep you updated as I learn more.
Facilitating an online course on biblical interpretation
A few weeks ago, I was approached by the Brethren in Christ Equipping for Ministry Team about an opportunity with a course in their Directed Study Program (DSP). They asked me whether I would consider facilitating their course, “Biblical Interpretation,” which is a required course in their program working towards a certificate with the denomination. The DSP is a program of online courses designed for those in the Brethren in Christ church (some in professional ministry, others not) who don’t necessarily have easy access to theological education.
Since facilitating the course is not a heavy load–there are no more than 15 students at a time–it would not get in the way of my primary academic duties of preparing for comprehensive exams and digging into my research topic. But it would give me the opportunity to get to use my training to help guide students through sticky hermeneutical problems. And I could stay connected to the Brethren in Christ church–one of my two denominational memberships (along with Mennonite) and the founding denomination of my undergraduate alma mater. With all of this and more in mind, I accepted the role.
I will be facilitating the online course as it is currently designed while also working to redesign the course. That latter role means that I will come up with a new syllabus, including more guidance than typical for an in-person classroom class, and new readings.
Designing this sort of course will be a bit of a challenge. The students will have taken “Bible Survey” before the class, but not a host of biblical studies courses before reaching “Biblical Interpretation.” It needs to be aimed at about a first-year undergraduate level, while also challenging students to reflect upon and interact with some very complicated topics (trying not to water them down). Also, the course is a mixture of basic elements from what one might find in an introduction to biblical studies course (literary features, historical context), a biblical exegesis course (the “nuts and bolts” of exegesis), and a biblical hermeneutics course (a little bit of theory on the perspectives behind interpretative methods) — all the while addressing concerns specific to a Brethren in Christ perspective (Anabaptist, Pietist, and Wesleyan). That’s a lot for one online course to juggle.
So, considering those challenges, what books would you use to design such a course? What are your favorites on hermeneutics and/or exegesis, or even simply the basic tools of biblical studies?
Have you ever taken a similar course? Wish you could take a course like this? What did you, or would you, appreciate most about a course like this?
By the way, in case you’re wondering, the Brethren in Christ church is not tied down by either of the terms “inerrancy” or even “infallibility.” Also, theirs is a hermeneutic focused more on praxis (“obedience”) than proper doctrine.
The Lasting Imagery of the Last Trump
I recently wrote a dictionary article dealing with the “last trumpet” and consequently gathered much more information than could be stuffed into the entry itself. And what are blogs for but to share your excess information, bursting out the seams? The phrase, of course, comes from Paul:
Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all fall asleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last [eschatos] trumpet [salpinx]. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.
(1 Cor 15:51-52; modified from the NRSV)
But the concept of an eschatological trumpet is certainly found elsewhere (Isa 58:1; Joel 2:1; Zeph 1:16; 2 Esdr 6:23; Matt 24:31; 1 Cor 15:52; 1 Thess 4:16; and a bunch in Revelation). The image of a final trumpet blast at the end of the age is a powerful one and it’s no surprise that it would have tremendous influence on intellectual and cultural traditions of Western history.
Literature
My search for how the trumpet has been used wandered about in different directions. In literature, the phrase is often used as literary device bringing out the dramatic effect of a moment.
Juliet: “Is Romeo slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead? / My dearest cousin and my dearer lord? / Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! / For who is living if those two are gone?” ~Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet (1590′s)
Lucretia: “Hark, ’tis the castle horn; my God! it sounds / Like the last trump.” ~Percy Shelley, The Cenci (1819)
“For a moment, the old woman’s ghastly conception so engrossed the minds of her hearers that a sound abroad in the night, rising like the roar of a blast, had grown broad, deep, and terrible, before the fated group were conscious of it. The house and all within it trembled; the foundations of the earth seemed to be shaken, as if this awful sound were the peal of the last trump. Young and old exchanged one wild glance, and remained an instant, pale, affrighted, without utterance, or power to move.” ~Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Ambitious Guest (1835)
In these examples, the last trump mention just sort of pops up out of nowhere. It functions as a simile in Shelley and Hawthorne, comparing some dreadful sound with the anticipated awfulness of the “last trump.” In Shakespeare, it heightens the power of Juliet’s woeful cry — indicating that truly these two are the only persons of any significance in the whole of the world. If I had more time to think about these things, I would have to consider more whether such momentary mentions of the eschatological trumpet were simple dramatic devices or whether there was some more hefty mimetic allusion going on. Of course, there are examples of more head-on dealings with the last trumpet. For example, there is the poetry of Donne and Herbert:
“At the round earths imagin’d corners, blow / Your trumpets, Angells, and arise, arise / From death, you numberlesse infinities / Of soules, and to your scattred bodies goe . . .” ~John Donne, Holy Sonnet 7 (written by about 1609)
“Dust, alas, no musick feels, / But thy trumpet: then it kneels, / As peculiar notes and strains / Cure Tarantulaes raging pains.” ~George Herbert, “Dooms-day” (1633)
For now ignoring Hal Lindsay, Tim LaHaye, and the like, perhaps the most interesting and creative examples come from two short stories written by H. G. Wells: “A Vision of Judgment” (1899) and “The Story of the Last Trump” (1905). The former story begins with the sound of the last trumpet, which awakens the dead (“The last note jerked me out of my grave like a hooked minnow”) and initiates God’s judgment of all people in alphabetical order and ends with them being brought to a new planet: “now that you understand me and each other a little better . . . try again.” The second Wells story features the trumpet falling to earth:
“But one I may tell of, and that was a great brazen trumpet which the Lord God had made when He made the world — for the Lord God finishes all His jobs — to blow when the time for our Judgment came round. And He had made it and left it; there it was, and everything was settled exactly as the Doctrine of Predestination declares. And this blessed child conceived one of those unaccountable passions of childhood for its smoothness and brassiness, and he played with it and tried to blow it, and trailed it about with him out of the attic into the gay and golden streets, and, after many fitful wanderings, to those celestial battlements of crystal of which you doubtless read. And there the blessed child fell to counting the stars, and forgot all about the Trumpet beside him until a flourish of his elbow sent it over.”
The trumpet falls from heaven and lands on earth, giving humanity a glimpse of truth for a moment (“as if for an instant the world wasn’t the world”), before they quickly forget and go about their normal lives unchanged (“‘One might think I was going to be ill,’ she said, and resumed her toast”).
Artistic Renderings
In Western art, the last trump has often been depicted with some dramatic fanfare. Michaelangelo’s Last Judgment (a fresco on the altar wall of the Sistine Chapel) immediately comes to mind, but if you look at the whole painting, it’s easy to miss the trumpets themselves — the image above is just a closeup of the trumpeters. Michaelangelo had his forerunners, though, and Luca Signorelli is one of the most important. His The Resurrection of the Flesh (shown above) features giant angels blowing enormous trumpets. At the turn of the sixteenth century, Signorelli was commissioned to decorate the frescoes of the San Brizio Chapel in the Orvieto Cathedral, where he depicts a masterpiece of various eschatological scenes.
The emotional characteristics of Michaelangelo and Signorelli are quite different. While Michaelangelo’s judgment scene is fraught with urgency, Signorelli’s resurrected bodies seem as if they are at a cocktail party. Some of them have gotten their new flesh, others are still waiting. There is time to embrace and chat as people gradually seep their way up out of the earth. Both Michaelangelo and Signorelli, of course, use magnificent, herculean (European) bodies — apart for the skeletons still waiting for theirs. Speaking of which . . .
One can find more intimate, individualized renderings of the last trumpet, such as in the drawings of Jacques Gamelin (1738-1803) and William Blake (1757-1827). Gamelin was known for his renderings of skeletons in a work entitled, Nouveau receuil d’ostéologie et de myologie (published in 1779). The work depicts a variety of scenes with skeletons, some playful, others more serious — and even if he wasn’t successful at the time, it has found an audience with both artists and specialists in anatomy. Within the collection, there is included an image (see above) of a rather shocked skeleton in his grave, jolted out of his sleep with a trumpet blast straight at his face. Gamelin’s caption for the image reads: Surgite mortui venite ad Judicium (“Arise, dead one, and come to judgment”).
With many similarities to Gamelin’s great work, William Blake rendered several skeleton scenes to illustrate a publication of Robert Blair’s poem, The Grave (1808), including a last trumpet rendering on the frontispiece. In that drawing, “Skeleton Re-animated,” Blake depicts the archangel dangles upside down blowing a long trumpet into the face of a skeleton rising from the ground. The intimacy of the image is powerful. I find it intriguing how similar Blake’s skeleton is to Gamelin’s and I have to wonder whether there is some artistic dependence there (if you’re working on your art history dissertation, feel free to run with that idea — and you’re welcome
). Another work of Blake’s, a drawing in Indian ink simply titled “The Last Trumpet” (see above) is in the more epic tradition of Signorelli.
Odds and Ends
Those were the bulkiest things I found, though I did discover a few other odds and ends. Apparently heavily influenced by Hal Lindsay’s The Late Great Planet Earth, Bob Dylan wrote the song “Ye Shall Be Changed.” The song’s chorus includes a line: “In the twinkling of an eye, when the last trumpet blows / the dead will arise and burst out of your clothes.” Johnny Cash featured the last trumpet in his songs “When the Man Comes Around” and “Ain’t No Grave (Gonna Hold This Body Down).”
Writing in honor of Josef Goebbels, a Nazi propaganda mastermind, Alfred Frauenfeld wrote: “Josef Goebbels has worn down the nerves of the enemy: he played the register of the propaganda organ, so that they soon thought they were hearing the shrieks of the last trumpet.”
There are other items, but I’ll leave it here for now. Maybe I’ll pick it up later, if the trumpet still hasn’t yet blasted.
My blog was cited in a journal. Was yours?
Warm thanks to Jim West who cites my biblical studies carnival from July 2009 as “quite excellent and remarkably clever” in his article on the history of biblioblogging (the citation is on p. 5) in the most recent Bulletin for the Study of Religion – which hosts a number of articles discussing the phenomenon known as “biblioblogging” (Jim and James mention the issue). I’m honored to have garnished a footnote in the history of biblioblogging.
Unfortunately (and ironically?), the issue is not available for free online (it is available if you subscribe to the BSR). Neither of my academic institutions for which I have library privileges, UCLA and Fuller, have electronic access. No fault of the Bulletin, I’m sure. Just the nature of things. But I did find a print copy at Fuller. If I had a few more moments of time, I might actually try to engage the very thought-provoking essays in the issue. Perhaps in the not too distant future.
If you can find a copy, take a gander!
Enoch Graduate Seminar: Best Conference Ever?
Last week, my friend, Kevin Scull, and I attended the Enoch Graduate Seminar in Budapest, Hungary (see his post about the experience). The seminar was unlike any conference I’ve ever experienced or even heard about. It was run more like a graduate seminar course at a university than a conference, but even more intellectually fulfilling than that. It had both Kevin and I wondering about conferences that we’d like to see happen in the future.
Format. We all distributed our papers ahead of time. Our presentations were supposed to be more like introductions to the discussion than a verbatim recital of our written work. We had ten minutes to make these introductions, and then the discussion was scheduled for one hour past that. Inevitably, some discussions might bore you to death (the nature of things), while others would stimulate promising new thoughts. Unlike most conferences, you were expected to stay for all the sessions, read all the papers, and contribute to the discussions (as you are able).
The conference lasted about four days, two of which were full with six papers, two of which included only three papers. Most days ended with a final paper/lecture from a scholar. Except for Wednesday, when we took a “field trip” over to the city of Budapest, we ended our day at 7pm. As you might imagine, the conference was exhausting. And, while the host campus was a beautiful little spot outside Budapest, it appears that Hungarians do not believe in air conditioning. Sitting through roughly eight hours of discussion/presentations until the early evening in a hot and humid seminar room made for a more “memorable” experience.
The Enoch Grad Seminar is the graduate student version of the larger Enoch Seminar, which gathers to discuss a particular topic each time. I understand that the larger conference for established scholars (invite only) does not have the same kind of intimacy as the graduate seminar, but I like the idea of having a set topic. Their first meeting, if I heard correctly, was to discuss the proofs of George Nickelsburg’s Hermeneia commentary on 1 Enoch. To me, that sounds like a fabulous idea, and easily transferable to other fields.
Content. The Seminar is not only about Enoch, as the name of the conference might suggest. Rather, Enoch is used more as a reference point because, as Prof. Boccaccini noted, “Enoch is everywhere!” It’s used as a way of marking off a couple centuries before and after the turn of the common era. On the whole, it was a conference mainly on Second Temple Judaism, with only about four or five papers explicitly dealing with New Testament documents. When Christianity was discussed, it was as a part of the larger umbrella of Second Temple Judaism. Unlike the lip service I’ve seen given to this idea in the past (that the early Christian movement was a part of early Judaism), the discussions from this conference represented a really robust approach to Second Temple texts and issues.
Boccaccini offered a kind of plea for New Testament scholars to engage in greater depth with the texts and issues of Second Temple Judaism. He also seemed to have a desire to have studies of Second Temple texts interact more directly with New Testament texts. As it stands, they are two different fields, when they really should be more integrated.
International Connections. At the conference, we had five grad students from the US (UCLA, Michigan, and Marquette), one from Canada (McGill), three from the UK (Cambridge, Durham, and Nottingham), three Hungarians, an Argentinian currently studying at the Sorbonne, and individuals from Greece, the University of Copenhagen, Israel, and Russia. The intensity of the experience helped us all to deepen our global networks, not to mention friendships. We all had a great time together.
The next Enoch Grad Seminar is more accessible for those of us in the states at Notre Dame. I certainly recommend grad students in the field to seek out this conference in two years, when it comes around again. I’m worried that it will not be quite as international as this one was, given the location, but I imagine it will still be fulfilling either way.









