The History Between the Testaments

How did centuries of foreign rule, rebellion, and spiritual upheaval reshape Judaism—and prepare the world for the arrival of Jesus?

For centuries, the two kingdoms of Israel and Judah represented God’s chosen people on earth. Eventually, due to their reckless treatment of God, His grace, and His word, the northern kingdom was destroyed. The Assyrians, led by Shalmaneser, conquered Israel, scattered its people throughout their realm, and created what is now known as “the lost ten tribes of Israel.” This development also influenced the term “Jew,” a shortened form of the name “Judah.” The only Israelite nation left was Judah, and thus, rather than being known as Israelites, the descendants of Jacob called themselves “Jews” after the southern kingdom. 

In contrast to Israel, Judah’s story is more complicated. Whereas the northern kingdom failed to have any righteous kings, Judah’s worship still centered around Jerusalem, and a handful of reformers helped to keep the people returning to God despite their constant waywardness. Eventually, however, God also destroyed the southern kingdom. As the prophet Jeremiah reported, their religion focused on the superficial: “Do not trust in these deceptive words: ‘This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD.’” (Jeremiah 7:4).1  Destruction seemed impossible; how could God destroy His temple—His house? 

Nevertheless, destruction came in 586 B.C. when Nebuchadnezzar burned Jerusalem. His soldiers tore down the temple, and the city was left in ruins. Throughout Jerusalem, numerous archaeological discoveries testify to this destruction—from Babylonian arrowheads to layers of ash and burned buildings. Jerusalem’s fall to the Babylonians is a historical truth. 

As part of this attack, Nebuchadnezzar took most of the city captive. That captivity, which had begun with Nebuchadnezzar’s first attack on Jerusalem years prior, spanned seventy years, ending in 539 B.C. with Cyrus’s proclamation for the Jews to go home. The books of Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Zechariah, Haggai, and Malachi discuss the events of this period. And with that, the curtain closes on the Old Testament. 

But what happened after that? In fact, when the curtain opens again in the New Testament, hundreds of years have passed. Now, instead of the Persians, the Romans rule. Instead of speaking Hebrew, everyone seems to speak Aramaic and Greek. Plus, new groups of people exist. Unlike the Old Testament, which often referenced the king, the priests, and the Levites, the religious leaders are now the priests, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the scribes. But who are they? 

The time between the Testaments changed Judaism in major ways. Not only did the language and culture change, but many of the beliefs changed. To create a larger historical narrative and again place the story of Israel into the greater historical context, this article will begin to examine what happened to the Jews between the Testaments. This context again aids in our discussions with friends because it demonstrates how Judaism changed from what it was initially.  It thus explains some of the false beliefs that existed among the Jews throughout the New Testament. In this article, we’ll examine the history between the Testaments, and in the following article, we’ll see how that history changed Judaism. 

The History

Alexander the Great created a vast political earthquake as he sped across the Middle East, conquering army after army, never losing a battle. Finally, the Persian Empire, led by Darius III, surrendered to him. Greek influence spread throughout the area, and Greek became the lingua franca.

Yet what concerns us is not necessarily Alexander the Great and his effect on Judah, which was somewhat minimal, but rather the influence of his successors. As prophesied in Daniel 8:22, after Alexander died, his kingdom was divided into four (technically, it was initially divided into five, but after his generals finished fighting each other, four still lived). Two of these generals wielded the most significant power over the Holy Land—Seleucus in the northeast and Ptolemy in the south. Jerusalem and Judah sat between these two rivals and, thus, often suffered from their battles against one another.

Eventually, a man named Antiochus IV ruled over the Seleucid empire. Just to give a sense of his character, consider how he changed his name—“Antiochus IV” sounded too much like his father and those who had come before him. Instead, he wanted others to call him “Antiochus Epiphanes,” with “Epiphanes” meaning “illustrious” in Greek. Determining to conquer Ptolemy, he marched his troops down into Egypt. Despite his successes, the attack soured just outside of Alexandria. Livy, an ancient Roman historian, described the dramatic scene. Antiochus was confronted by Popilius, a Roman general, with orders from the Roman senate for Antiochus to cease his attack.

He was met by the Roman commissioners, to whom he gave a friendly greeting and held out his hand to Popilius. Popilius, however, placed in his hand the tablets on which was written the decree of the senate and told him first of all to read that. After reading it through he said he would call his friends into council and consider what he ought to do.

Popilius, stern and imperious as ever, drew a circle round the king with the stick he was carrying and said, ‘Before you step out of that circle give me a reply to lay before the senate.’ For a few moments he hesitated, astounded at such a peremptory order, and at last replied, ‘I will do what the senate thinks right.’ Not till then did Popilius extend his hand to the king as to a friend and ally. Antiochus evacuated Egypt at the appointed date. 2

Antiochus returned home furious. On his way, he vented his anger upon Jerusalem. The apocryphal book of Maccabees chronicled his visit: 

He arrogantly entered the sanctuary and took the golden altar, the lampstand for the light, and all its utensils. He took also the table for the bread of the Presence, the cups for drink offerings, the bowls, the golden censers, the curtain, the crowns, and the gold decoration on the front of the temple; he stripped it all off. He took the silver and the gold and the costly vessels; he took also the hidden treasures that he found. (1 Maccabees 1:21–23 NRSV).

This destruction began Antiochus’s attempt to suppress Judaism. He forbade them to follow the Torah, outlawed circumcision, and ordered them to sacrifice pigs. When it came to his turn to offer these polluted sacrifices, an old priest named Mattathias refused. As one of his younger counterparts took his place, Mattathias drew his sword, killed the unfaithful priest, and began what is now known as the Maccabean revolt.

Astonishingly, the rebels defeated the Greeks. They eventually pushed the Seleucid troops out of the temple and rededicated it to God, cleansing the altar Antiochus’s sacrifices had defiled. Today, Jews remember this event during the celebration of Hanukkah, the Hebrew word for “dedication,” which maps to the “feast of dedication” referenced in the Gospel of John (John 10:22).

In our modern society, Hanukkah revolves around light and the miracle of the oil that lasted for eight days. No historical sources exist for this miracle. The Talmud, written approximately 700 years after the event, first connected the holiday to the miraculous oil. (Shabbat 21b:10).

With the Greeks defeated, the Jews once again possessed an independent Jewish kingdom. The Maccabees and their descendants ruled this kingdom for a few generations, although disunity and controversy plagued their family. Eventually, amid a controversy of succession, two brothers, Aristobulus II and Hyrcanus II, approached the Romans and asked for help determining which of them should be the rightful ruler of Judea. Happy to intervene, Rome sent General Pompey to besiege Jerusalem and conquer the territory for Rome. As a result, neither of these Maccabean descendants received the throne, and instead, Caesar made Antipater the Idumean, a convert to Judaism and the governor of Judea.

Antipater may not be a familiar name, but you’ve probably heard of his son, Herod. Antipater’s sense of realpolitik set up his son to advance to the governorship. Unlike his father, Herod made his mark in building. He made huge changes to the temple mount and built fortresses like Herodium and Masada. Yet perhaps he is most infamous for his attempts to destroy any opposition to his leadership—murdering multiple sons, one of his wives, and the children of Bethlehem. 

Conclusion

The history between the Testaments isn’t pretty. One battle follows another, and in many circumstances, those fighting each other are Jews. Ambitious and power-hungry individuals sacrifice others to get slightly ahead, and eventually, these sacrifices lead to the end of the kingdom and the enslavement of the nation to Rome. The stories show what happens when family, friends, and spiritual siblings choose to fight one another rather than work together.

Yet, on a broader level, they also set the context for the New Testament. As God wanted, this atmosphere was the world into which Jesus was born. Why then? Why that particular group in the first century, after all that the Jewish community had experienced?

That’s what we’ll consider next when we see the impact of this history on Judaism.

Jason Hensley,
Associate Editor