Some of the earliest witnesses to the Book of Isaiah are translations into Greek and Syriac. Sometimes the translators offered not simply basic equivalents to Hebrew words but shaped their translation of passages to accord with understandings of them that were current in their Jewish communities. Although this can make the window to their Hebrew text opaque, sometimes their differences from today’s standard Hebrew text preserve alternative wordings found elsewhere in early Hebrew texts, while in other cases they include wordings that have not survived in any other Hebrew witnesses. The chief question such differences raise is whether the translator tailored his version to the readers’ pre-understanding or if they reflect different Hebrew words in the manuscript he used. In “Early Versions of Isaiah as Translations and Interpretations,” Ronald L. Troxel cites examples of these conundrums, and illustrates how scholars attempt to reason about their origins.

Seth Bledsoe introduces the 2nd century BCE wisdom book of Ben Sira. While not forming part of the Tanakh or Protestant Old Testament, Ben Sira appears in the LXX and subsequently the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox canons. The book presents itself as the words of a well-educated scribe, and draws on both Jewish and Greek traditions. Central to the book is Wisdom, which is intimately connected to creation, fear of the Lord, Torah, and tradition. It also contains advice on practical matters, such as finance (it both respects wealth and advocates generosity) and relations with women (it is in places decided misogynistic). Although generally optimistic that good deeds will lead to positive consequences, Ben Sira also grapples with the problems of theodicy and death, concluding that righteous persons can live on through the legacy of a good name.

Contemporary discussions of Jews in the diaspora often draw a distinction between diaspora and exile, arguing that by the Hellenistic era, most Jews in the diaspora no longer viewed themselves as in exile, having exchanged the traditional biblical view of exile and return for a "diaspora theology" in which they took pride in the diaspora, viewing it in positive terms. This chapter argues that there is in fact no evidence to support such a claim. Whereas it is often claimed that the Septuagint systematically weakens the prophetic verdict on exile, a closer look at the evidence shows otherwise. The chapter concludes by arguing that while it is true that many Jews lived prosperous and happy lives in the diaspora, the fact that they remained subject to the whims of foreign rulers and the frequency with which Hellenistic Jewish texts portray the diaspora as a continuation of exile cannot be dismissed. The chapter concludes that there is simply no evidence that Jews in the Hellenistic diaspora regarded the period of exile as having ended and significant literary evidence to the contrary.

This chapter examines Philo's views of exile and eschatology and his use of Israel terminology. The first part of the chapter argues that despite his tendency towards allegory, numerous places in the Philonic corpus suggest that Philo viewed the exile as ongoing and—like Josephus—looked forward to a future restoration of Israel. The second part of the chapter shows that Philo avoids the term "Israel" when referring to his contemporaries, whom he calls Ioudaioi ("Jews"), while "Israel" appears in other contexts and correlates closely with his eschatological statements. Like Josephus, Philo argues that Israel's restoration will come through divine initiative rather than violent revolution, and the first element of that restoration will be a divinely initiated return to virtue and obedience. Remarkably, Philo also suggests that not all Jews are or will be included in "Israel," a view that reflects sympathy with a prophetic or sectarian view of Israel in which Israelite status is contingent on proper obedience to God.