We have been journeying through the Hebrew Scriptures, following the story of God and the people he called to participate in his new creation project. Now we come to the close of the Old Testament, with the Persian Empire in control. The temple had been rebuilt, the walls of Jerusalem restored, and life in Judea had some semblance of normalcy.
Yet even then, the people of God were waiting. Malachi’s voice lingered in the air: “Behold, I will send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before me” (Malachi 3:1). Then, the long silence began. No prophet arose. No fresh word from the Lord was recorded. And yet history marched on – for 400 years it marched on. These so-called “silent years” were filled with upheaval, empires, and longing.
Persia and the Seeds of Stability
Persia’s rule was relatively kind compared to the Babylonian captivity that preceded it. Cyrus the Great had allowed the exiles to return home. By the time Malachi’s ministry ended (around 430 BC), the Jewish people were a small but distinct community within a vast empire. The temple was functioning, priests led worship, and the high priest served as the de facto leader of the people.
It was during this time that Aramaic spread as a common language. The synagogue became increasingly important as outposts of teaching, prayer, and Scripture reading, especially for Jews scattered throughout the empire. These developments would shape Jewish life for centuries.
But the Persian Empire would not last. To the West, a young Macedonian general was gathering power.
Enter Alexander the Great
In 332 BC, Alexander the Great stormed through the Near East, defeating Persia and bringing Judea under Greek control. With him came Hellenism – the spread of Greek language, culture, and thought. At first glance, this seemed a gift. Greek opened doors of communication across the known world. Trade, ideas, and learning flourished. For the Jewish people, however, Hellenism was both opportunity and threat.
On one hand, the Greek language made possible the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. Jews living far from Jerusalem could hear the Word of God in a language they understood. Even later, the apostles would quote from this translation as they preached the gospel across the Roman world.
On the other hand, Greek culture pressed against Jewish identity. Gymnasiums, theaters, and Greek philosophy all carried values foreign to the covenant. Some Jews eagerly embraced these innovations, seeking to fit in with their neighbors. Others resisted, determined to keep the law of God intact. The seeds of division between “Hellenizers” and “traditionalists” began to sprout.
Ptolemies and Seleucids
After Alexander’s sudden death in 323 BC, his empire fractured. Two dynasties battled for control of Judea: the Ptolemies in Egypt and the Seleucids in Syria. For roughly a century, the Ptolemies held sway. Life under them was generally peaceful, and the Jewish people enjoyed a degree of autonomy.
But in 198 BC, everything changed. The Seleucid king Antiochus III (sometimes called “the Great”) defeated the Ptolemies and took Judea under his control. At first, he treated the Jews favorably, even granting privileges to the temple. But the Seleucid grip tightened with his successors, and cultural tensions grew sharper.
The Rise of Antiochus IV Epiphanes
By 175 BC, the Seleucid throne passed to Antiochus IV, a man who gave himself the title Epiphanes – “manifest one,” as if he were a god revealed. To many Jews, however, he was nicknamed Epimanes—“the madman.”1
Antiochus was determined to impose Greek culture on all his subjects. To him, unity meant uniformity, and local traditions, including Jewish worship, were obstacles to be eliminated.
The pressure was immense. Some within Jerusalem’s priesthood compromised, even bribing their way into the high priesthood and introducing Greek customs into temple life. Josephus records bitter disputes between Jewish leaders, with some willing to Hellenize and others clinging to the covenant. Division tore at the fabric of Israel.
The Temple Crisis
The breaking point came in 167 BC. Antiochus issued decrees outlawing circumcision, Sabbath observance, and Torah reading. Sacred scrolls were burned. Mothers who circumcised their sons were executed. The covenant itself was under attack.
Worst of all, Antiochus desecrated the temple. He set up an altar to Zeus in the holy place and sacrificed swine upon it – an unthinkable act of defilement.2
In the Hellenistic world, rulers like Antiochus sought to unite their subjects under Greek religion and culture. The pig sacrifice was his way of saying, “Your God is powerless. Your distinctiveness is finished.” But history would prove otherwise. What he meant for humiliation became a spark of holy defiance. Josephus would later call this the breaking point – the moment when desecration provoked devotion, when unclean blood on the altar stirred a people to cleanse the sanctuary once more.
Waiting in the Silence
For centuries, Israel had waited for God’s promises to be fulfilled. Now, in the face of Antiochus’ brutality, many must have wondered: Had God abandoned them? Why had the prophetic voice gone quiet? Where was the Lord who once shook Mount Sinai and split the Red Sea?
And yet, even in the silence, God was preparing. The crisis under Antiochus would awaken a fierce zeal for the covenant and spark a revolt that changed the course of Jewish history. It would also deepen the longing for deliverance, the ache for the Messiah.
The intertestamental period reminds us that even when God seems silent, He is never absent or powerless. It’s a reminder that Yahweh is the King [capital “K”] of kings. Though other kings might want to capitalize on their kingship, they are in fact [small “k”] kings in God’s economy.
Next time: We’ll turn to the Maccabean revolt, the Hasmonean dynasty, and Rome’s eventual conquest – a turbulent path that sets the stage for the coming of Christ.
¹ Polybius, Histories 26.10 (fragment); cf. Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae 5.193, who notes that contemporaries mockingly called Antiochus Epimanes (“the madman”) instead of Epiphanes (“the manifest one”). See also Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 12.5.4 (§239–241), and 2 Maccabees 9:5–10 for accounts of his deranged conduct and divine punishment.
2 1 Maccabees 1:47–50; cf. 2 Maccabees 6:4–5; Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 12.5.4 (§252–253).
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