You get glimpses of a world so different, yet so familiar. And the stories! Oh, the stories…
Today, I want to share a little snippet from the end of the Letter of Aristeas. It's not a dramatic climax or a mind-bending revelation, but it's a quiet, personal moment that resonates across the centuries.
The letter is supposedly written by a Greek official named Aristeas to his brother, Philocrates. Now, the whole letter is fascinating, detailing the translation of the Torah into Greek – what we now know as the Septuagint. It’s a story filled with diplomacy, royal intrigue, and a deep respect for Jewish wisdom. But it's this closing sentiment that really sticks with me.
Aristeas writes, "And now Philocrates, you have the complete story in accordance with my promise." It's a simple statement. But imagine the scene: Aristeas, having witnessed these incredible events, putting pen to papyrus (or whatever they used back then!) to share it all with his brother.
He continues, "I think that you find greater pleasure in these matters than in the writings of the mythologists. For you are devoted to the study of those things which can benefit the soul, and spend much time upon it."
Wow. for a second. Aristeas is saying that these real-life events – the translation of the Torah, the interactions with Jewish scholars – are more meaningful than even the most captivating myths. Why? Because they have the power to benefit the soul.
What does that even mean, to "benefit the soul"? Is it about finding meaning? About connecting with something larger than ourselves? About living a more virtuous life? Perhaps it's all of the above.
And then, almost as an afterthought, Aristeas adds: "I shall attempt to narrate whatever other events are worth recording, that by perusing them you may secure the highest reward for your zeal."
He's basically saying, "I'll keep writing, keep sharing, because I know you're genuinely interested in this stuff. And by reading it, by engaging with it, you'll be rewarded."
What's the reward? Is it knowledge? Wisdom? Spiritual growth? Again, it's left open to interpretation. But there's a sense that simply engaging with these stories, with these ideas, is itself a valuable act.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What stories are we drawn to? What narratives do we find meaningful? And are they, in some way, benefiting our souls?
Maybe the Letter of Aristeas, in its own way, is asking us to consider just that. To think about the power of stories, the importance of seeking wisdom, and the potential for even the most ancient texts to speak to us today.
Because, really, isn't that the point? To find those sparks of truth and meaning that can illuminate our own lives, centuries after they were first written down?