Dead Sea Scrolls Conference 2025: Texts, Faith & Future

Introduction (Conference Opening) 

Delivered by James C. VanderKam (representing the bridge between texts, history, and faith):

Seventy-five years ago, shepherd boys stumbled upon scrolls hidden in desert caves, unaware that they had uncovered one of the greatest treasures of human history. These Dead Sea Scrolls are not simply parchment and ink; they are fragments of longing, devotion, and identity. They speak of a people who wrestled with Scripture, struggled with community, and dreamed of God’s redemption.

Today, we gather not to treat these scrolls as relics but as voices—voices that still whisper in the twilight of the Judean desert, voices that call us to remember who we are and what we long for. We come as scholars, but also as seekers, to ask: What do these scrolls teach us about Scripture, about hope, about ourselves? This conference is our attempt to listen, across millennia, to those who wrote by candlelight, and to let their words illuminate our world.

(Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event.)

Topic 1: Textual Transmission & New Discoveries

Moderator: Peter W. Flint
Speakers: Geza Vermes, Michael Wise, Martin Abegg Jr., Edward Cook, James C. VanderKam

Peter W. Flint (Moderator):
We’ve gathered here in 2025 to ask something fundamental: when we look at the Dead Sea Scrolls with the tools of today—digital imaging, AI reconstruction, and over 75 years of scholarship—what do they reveal to us about the way sacred texts were transmitted? Were they fixed and guarded, or alive and evolving?

Geza Vermes:
When I first published The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English, what struck me most was not rigidity but diversity. We see multiple versions of Isaiah, Psalms arranged differently, commentaries that reinterpret Moses’ law for a new age. These people were not scribes in a sterile library—they were breathing faith communities. The text was a living organism, shaped by their hopes and fears. To me, the Scrolls reveal the vitality of Scripture: it was not dead ink but living fire.

Michael Wise:
I agree, Geza. One of the most astonishing discoveries is how fluid these texts were. We have Isaiah nearly identical to the Masoretic text, but next to it, versions with striking differences. The scribes were not merely copyists; they were interpreters. With modern imaging, we’ve even recovered erased words and marginal notes—reminders that the text was dialogical. What we hold in our hands is not just history but an ancient conversation about God.

Martin Abegg Jr.:
And now, in 2025, with digital reconstruction, we’re finally hearing voices we thought were lost. Fragments that were illegible for decades suddenly reveal themselves under multispectral imaging. Entire phrases of Deuteronomy and Samuel reappear, and with them, new nuances in theology and law. The future of scrolls research lies not in caves but in pixels. But the message is timeless: God’s word can endure even when broken into fragments.

Edward Cook:
Yes, but let us be cautious. With every technological leap, we must remember the humility of the scribes. They lived in dust, ink-stained, bent over by candlelight. The Hebrew, the Aramaic, even the odd Greek phrase—all speak of human devotion. AI may stitch fragments together, but the human longing behind those words cannot be reconstructed by a machine. That is where our spiritual duty lies: to read these scrolls as testimony, not just text.

James C. VanderKam:
And yet, Edward, isn’t it precisely this combination—human devotion and technological precision—that gives the Scrolls their enduring power? For centuries we debated the reliability of the Bible. Then these ancient manuscripts emerged, confirming much of what we had and illuminating even more. They remind us that the Hebrew Scriptures were cherished, transmitted, and debated long before the canon was fixed. In that sense, the Dead Sea Scrolls are not relics of a lost past; they are witnesses to faith in motion.

Peter W. Flint (Moderator):
That was powerful. Let me press further: What do these discoveries tell us about community and identity? Were these scrolls the possession of an isolated sect like the Essenes, or part of a broader Jewish world wrestling with sacred tradition?

Michael Wise:
I lean toward seeing them as part of a larger Jewish struggle. These people may have been sectarian, but their texts reflect mainstream debates. The Temple, purity, prophecy—all these issues occupied every Jew of the Second Temple period. The Scrolls give us a window into arguments alive in Jerusalem, Galilee, and beyond. They are not the whisper of a fringe; they are the roar of a people seeking God’s will.

Geza Vermes:
And yet, Michael, the sectarian edge is undeniable. Look at the Community Rule—here we find exclusivity, boundaries, a fierce line between “sons of light” and “sons of darkness.” This was not casual Judaism; it was a movement of zealots for holiness. They retold the Torah in their own image. To ignore that sectarian passion is to flatten the Scrolls into mere background noise.

James C. VanderKam:
Perhaps it is both, Geza. They were indeed a sect, but a sect deeply rooted in the broader soil of Jewish tradition. The Scrolls reflect a vibrant, sometimes fractious, Judaism. In that way, they prepare us to understand why Christianity could emerge as both Jewish and radically new. The Scrolls remind us that identity is always contested, never monolithic.

Edward Cook:
I want to add that language itself reflects identity. The use of Hebrew was not accidental; it was a statement. Even when Aramaic dominated daily life, Hebrew remained the language of holiness. Every scribe knew that to write in Hebrew was to claim continuity with Moses, David, Isaiah. That choice was theological, not practical.

Martin Abegg Jr.:
And now we see this tension again in our age. Do we treat these scrolls as Jewish heritage, Christian precursor, or academic curiosity? The truth is, they belong to all of us—but especially to those communities that still live by these words. That is why dialogue between Jews and Christians must continue around these texts. They are not museum pieces; they are mirrors.

Peter W. Flint (Moderator):
Final question: Looking ahead, what do you see as the greatest future direction for Dead Sea Scrolls research, spiritually or academically?

Edward Cook:
For me, it is humility. We must not let technology blind us to devotion. The scrolls are fragile, human, holy. The future lies in reading them with reverence.

Martin Abegg Jr.:
I see the frontier in digital humanities. AI will recover more fragments, and perhaps even reconstruct lost texts. But the ethical question will be: how do we distinguish ancient voice from modern algorithm? That will shape the next generation of scholarship.

Geza Vermes:
My hope is interfaith dialogue. The Scrolls are not Jewish alone or Christian alone; they are a shared inheritance. If they can teach us anything, it is that God’s word has always been interpreted in community, across boundaries.

James C. VanderKam:
Yes, Geza. For me, the greatest direction is in the intersection of history and faith. The Scrolls ground our scriptures in the dust of time, showing that God works through history, not apart from it.

Michael Wise:
And I will add: accessibility. Let these texts not remain in the ivory towers of scholars. Let every seeker read them, wrestle with them, and perhaps be transformed by them. Only then will the Scrolls fulfill their destiny.

Peter W. Flint (Moderator):
Thank you, colleagues. Today we’ve seen how ink from 2,000 years ago still stains our souls with meaning. The Dead Sea Scrolls remind us that sacred words are never static—they breathe, they argue, they endure.

Topic 2: Sectarian Identity & Community Life

Moderator: John J. Collins
Speakers: Lawrence H. Schiffman, Timothy H. Lim, Philip R. Davies, George J. Brooke, Philip R. Callaway

John J. Collins (Moderator):
We often describe the Qumran group as sectarian. But who were they, really? Were they Essenes, dissidents, or something else? And how does their fierce separation help us understand identity in Second Temple Judaism?

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
The evidence points strongly toward Essene origins. The Community Rule, with its ritual immersions and communal meals, resonates with descriptions we have from Josephus and Philo. They were not inventing a new religion, but rather intensifying existing Jewish commitments. Their sectarianism reflects an effort to preserve purity in an impure age.

Philip R. Davies:
I must challenge that, Lawrence. The Essene theory has dominated for too long. We lack direct proof that Qumran equals Essene. To me, the Scrolls reflect a movement broader than one sect — perhaps overlapping with Sadducees or other priestly groups. By calling them Essenes, we risk imposing labels that flatten their complexity.

Timothy H. Lim:
Philip, your point is well-taken. What the Scrolls reveal above all is fluidity. The lines between groups were porous, and sectarian identity was never static. Still, the scrolls show a community deeply invested in boundary-making — defining who belonged and who was outside. That dynamic of inclusion and exclusion is central to understanding Jewish identity in this era.

George J. Brooke:
Yes, Timothy. What strikes me in the Community Rule and the Damascus Document is not only separation but hope. This was a community waiting for God’s intervention. Their rules were not simply defensive; they were anticipatory. By separating themselves, they prepared for the arrival of the Teacher of Righteousness and the coming age of justice.

Philip R. Callaway:
And their daily lives embodied that hope. Archaeology shows communal dining spaces, ritual baths, strict organization. They lived their theology. To them, identity was not a matter of abstract belief, but of every meal, every bath, every prayer. Sectarianism was survival.

John J. Collins (Moderator):
That’s powerful. But let me push further: if sectarian identity meant strict separation, how did they see the rest of Judaism? Did they hate outsiders, or did they view themselves as reformers of the whole?

George J. Brooke:
Their language is sharp—“sons of light” versus “sons of darkness.” That sounds hostile. But I think it was less about hatred and more about urgency. They saw themselves as the faithful remnant. In their mind, the rest of Israel had gone astray, but God would restore all things through their obedience.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
I agree, George. They weren’t rejecting Judaism; they were intensifying it. Their sectarianism was a critique, not a dismissal. They believed the Temple leadership had failed, so they set up a purer community in the wilderness, echoing the prophets.

Philip R. Davies:
But we must not romanticize them. The Scrolls contain language of violence, war, and exclusion. The War Scroll envisions the destruction of enemies. Sectarianism here was not only about purity; it was about power. To pretend otherwise ignores the darker edge of religious zeal.

Timothy H. Lim:
Yet even in their severity, they reveal a profound truth: identity is forged in tension. By defining themselves against others, they gave themselves cohesion. Without the “sons of darkness,” perhaps the “sons of light” would not have known who they were.

Philip R. Callaway:
And isn’t that still true today? Communities everywhere, religious or secular, draw boundaries to survive. The Scrolls show us both the necessity and the danger of that instinct.

John J. Collins (Moderator):
A sobering thought, Philip. For our last question: what is the significance of this sectarianism for us now? How does their identity crisis speak to our own fractured world?

Timothy H. Lim:
For me, the Scrolls remind us that diversity is not new. Ancient Judaism was a mosaic of voices, just as our societies today are fractured. The challenge is how to live with difference without collapsing into enmity.

Philip R. Davies:
Yes, and they also warn us. Sectarian certainty can lead to intolerance. The Scrolls give us insight, but also a cautionary tale. When communities are too rigid, dialogue dies.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
Yet their passion is admirable. They cared deeply about faith, about covenant, about holiness. In an age when commitment often feels thin, their devotion is a reminder that belief must be embodied, not just spoken.

George J. Brooke:
I would add that their hope still inspires. They longed for justice, for God’s kingdom on earth. Even if their methods were narrow, their longing was wide. That longing still unites Jews, Christians, and seekers today.

Philip R. Callaway:
And perhaps that is their enduring message: identity is fragile, but it is also hopeful. In their caves, they carved out a vision of belonging. We too search for that belonging in our fragmented age.

John J. Collins (Moderator):
Thank you, friends. Today we’ve learned that sectarian identity is both wound and medicine—divisive, but also unifying within. The Scrolls teach us the cost of purity, and the depth of longing that drove ordinary people to live as if God’s kingdom might dawn at any moment.

Topic 3: Archaeology & Material Culture of Qumran

Moderator: Jodi Magness
Speakers: Roland de Vaux, Burton MacDonald, Edward J. Keall, Paul W. Lapp, James C. VanderKam

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
As we turn to the stones and soil of Qumran, I’d like to begin with a simple but crucial question: What does the archaeology of Qumran tell us about the people who lived there? Was it truly a sectarian settlement, or something else?

Roland de Vaux:
When I excavated Qumran in the 1950s, the evidence seemed clear: communal dining halls, ritual baths, inkwells—all signs of a sectarian, almost monastic group. I believed strongly that this was the Essene settlement described by Josephus. To me, the site bore witness to a community withdrawn from Jerusalem, committed to purity, and devoted to preserving sacred texts.

Burton MacDonald:
Roland, your work laid the foundation, but we must look again with fresh eyes. Some archaeologists now suggest Qumran may not have been purely sectarian. The pottery workshop evidence, the economic activity, even the watchtower—these could suggest a more complex function, perhaps part communal, part industrial, part strategic. We must resist oversimplification.

Edward J. Keall:
Yes, Burton. From my perspective, Qumran’s location is telling. Perched above the Dead Sea, it is both isolated and connected. The water systems—cisterns, aqueducts—show remarkable engineering. This was not a hermitage of passive mystics; it was a planned, functioning community. Whether Essene or not, they were resourceful people making the desert bloom.

Paul W. Lapp:
I would add that the cemetery is one of the most intriguing features. Hundreds of graves, oriented in uniform fashion, suggest strong community cohesion. But curiously, the demographic profile is narrow—mostly adult males. That raises questions: Was this a celibate group? Were women and children excluded? Or have their graves been lost elsewhere? Archaeology cannot always answer, but it deepens the mystery.

James C. VanderKam:
And we must tie the archaeology to the texts. The ritual baths, the dining hall, the strict organization of the site resonate with the Community Rule and Damascus Document. The material culture and the manuscripts amplify each other. While debates about Essene identity remain, the lived reality of ritual, purity, and discipline is etched both in parchment and in stone.

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
Thank you. Let me press further: what do the artifacts—pottery, inkwells, jars, water systems—teach us about their daily life and priorities?

Edward J. Keall:
The pottery is extraordinary. Large cylindrical jars, unlike others in the region, were used to store scrolls. This is unique. It tells us that preservation of texts was not incidental; it was central. They engineered storage vessels as carefully as they engineered water channels. Knowledge itself was a treasure to be protected.

Roland de Vaux:
Yes, and the inkwells—rare in archaeological contexts—speak of scribal activity. This was a place where writing was sacred labor. To copy a scroll was as important as offering a sacrifice. The artifacts reveal a community where text was as holy as temple.

Burton MacDonald:
Yet the industrial evidence must not be overlooked. Kilns, pottery debris, traces of commerce suggest they were not isolated from the economic world. They may have produced goods for trade, sustaining themselves by engaging with wider society. Even in the wilderness, they were not cut off from the currents of the region.

Paul W. Lapp:
And water—always water. The elaborate system of aqueducts and pools shows a community obsessed with purity. Every drop was managed, directed, sanctified. To them, water was not only survival but salvation. Their baths were theology carved into limestone.

James C. VanderKam:
And this mirrors the texts again. The Community Rule describes ritual immersion, renewal by water, preparation for God’s kingdom. Archaeology confirms that faith was embodied in daily routines. Pottery, ink, water—these were not mundane but sacramental.

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
Let’s look to the future. With new technologies—LiDAR, multispectral imaging, DNA testing on parchment and textiles—what do you think archaeology will reveal about Qumran and its people in the coming years?

Paul W. Lapp:
I think burial analysis will be key. Modern bioarchaeology can tell us diet, disease, origin. Were these men local Judeans or migrants from elsewhere? Were they healthy ascetics or struggling sectarians? The graves may speak louder than the scrolls.

Burton MacDonald:
For me, it is landscape archaeology. Qumran was part of a network. By mapping trails, trade routes, and nearby settlements, we may better understand how connected—or disconnected—this community really was. Isolation is a story, but was it the whole story?

Edward J. Keall:
I believe material analysis of the scroll jars and pottery will reshape our view. Where was the clay sourced? If it came from different regions, that would show connections far beyond the Dead Sea. It could reframe Qumran as a hub, not a hermitage.

Roland de Vaux:
If I could speak to the future from my past, I would say: reinterpretation is inevitable. Archaeology is never finished. My conclusions may be challenged, even overturned, but the stones will continue to speak, if only we have ears to hear.

James C. VanderKam:
And those stones will always converse with the texts. Archaeology without manuscripts is mute; manuscripts without archaeology are ungrounded. The marriage of both disciplines is where truth emerges. The future lies not in one method but in integration—history, text, material culture, all speaking together.

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
Thank you. What we see is that Qumran was not only parchment and prayer, but clay and stone, water and grave. Its people lived theology with their hands, their tools, their daily labor. In every pot and pool, we glimpse a community that sought to make holiness visible in the desert.

Topic 4: The Scrolls and the Hebrew Bible

Moderator: Timothy H. Lim
Speakers: James C. VanderKam, Peter W. Flint, Lawrence H. Schiffman, Geza Vermes, John J. Collins

Timothy H. Lim (Moderator):
Friends, our focus now is the relationship between the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hebrew Bible. These manuscripts contain the earliest surviving copies of biblical texts—yet they also show variations. My opening question is simple but profound: What do these scrolls teach us about the nature of Scripture in the Second Temple period?

Geza Vermes:
They teach us that Scripture was not a closed book, but an unfolding story. In the Qumran caves, we find Isaiah nearly identical to the Masoretic tradition, but also Jeremiah in shorter forms, Psalms in different orders, even additional psalms we never knew existed. To me, this is proof that the Bible was alive—dynamic, not frozen. God’s word was still being written in the hearts of the faithful.

James C. VanderKam:
Yes, Geza, and it’s striking that while the texts vary, the reverence remains consistent. Whether Isaiah matches the Masoretic or diverges, it is treated with sacred care. These communities cherished Scripture even as they transmitted it in diverse forms. This reveals a culture where holiness resided not in uniformity, but in the encounter between tradition and interpretation.

Peter W. Flint:
And let us not forget the sheer antiquity of these manuscripts. We are holding words copied centuries before the Masoretic Text crystallized. This proves that our modern Hebrew Bible has deep roots, but also that its path to canon was long and winding. The Dead Sea Scrolls bridge a thousand years of transmission. They give us confidence in the fidelity of Scripture, while also humbling us with its diversity.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
I must emphasize the Jewish context here. These texts show us how Jews read, preserved, and debated their Scriptures before the rise of Christianity. The scrolls are not a Christian prequel; they are Jewish heritage. They reveal a vibrant Judaism in which multiple textual traditions coexisted, reflecting the richness of our people’s faith.

John J. Collins:
And they also challenge our assumptions about “canon.” At Qumran, the boundaries were porous. Jubilees, Enoch, the Temple Scroll—these were treated as Scripture alongside Isaiah or Deuteronomy. Canon was not a box but a spectrum. The Scrolls remind us that the line between sacred and non-sacred was still being drawn.

Timothy H. Lim (Moderator):
Thank you. My second question follows naturally: If the Bible was still fluid at Qumran, how should we understand their use of Scripture? Were these texts authoritative in the same way we think of Scripture today?

James C. VanderKam:
Authority, yes—but not uniform authority. For the Qumran community, Torah was supreme, the Psalms gave them voice, and the Prophets spoke to their moment. But Jubilees and sectarian commentaries were equally central. Authority was layered, not absolute. They lived in a world where God’s voice could echo through many texts, not only one canon.

Geza Vermes:
And let us not forget the pesher method—their commentaries on Scripture. For them, Isaiah or Habakkuk was not ancient history but prophecy for their own time. Every verse was a mirror of their community’s struggles. To read Scripture was to hear God speaking directly into their crisis. Authority was existential, not abstract.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
But we must avoid romanticizing. Their interpretation was sectarian, even polemical. They claimed that the “sons of light” alone understood the true meaning of Torah and prophecy. Authority, for them, meant exclusion as much as inspiration. They read the Bible through the lens of us versus them.

Peter W. Flint:
That’s true, Lawrence, but the result is still extraordinary. These sectarian readings give us the earliest evidence of biblical interpretation. They are precursors to rabbinic midrash and even to Christian exegesis. In both cases, the scrolls show us that Scripture is never read in a vacuum; it is always interpreted through the needs of a community.

John J. Collins:
Exactly. And this interpretive dynamism is what makes the Scrolls so spiritually significant. They remind us that every age must wrestle with God’s word. The authority of Scripture lies not only in its preservation but in its continual re-interpretation.

Timothy H. Lim (Moderator):
For my final question: What do these discoveries mean for Jews and Christians today, who look back on the Hebrew Bible as sacred? How do the Scrolls reshape our modern faith and scholarship?

Peter W. Flint:
For Christians, the Scrolls show us the Bible of Jesus’ time. They place the Gospels in the context of a living, contested Scripture. This grounds the New Testament in history and affirms its continuity with Jewish tradition.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
For Jews, they are a treasure of heritage. They remind us that the Torah we hold today is part of a long and faithful chain. The variations do not undermine our faith; they enrich it. They show the resilience of our people in preserving God’s word across centuries of turmoil.

Geza Vermes:
For all people of faith, the Scrolls invite humility. They remind us that our sacred texts have history, variation, and humanity woven into them. That does not diminish their divinity—it magnifies it. God’s voice is heard through human voices, fragile but enduring.

James C. VanderKam:
Yes, Geza. And I would add: the Scrolls build bridges. They are not exclusively Jewish or Christian; they are a shared inheritance. In a fractured world, they call us to dialogue, to recognize our common roots in the Scriptures of Israel.

John J. Collins:
And for scholars, they are a reminder that history and faith must converse. The Scrolls are not only artifacts; they are living witnesses. They ask us to honor both the text and the community behind it. In doing so, we learn not only about them, but about ourselves.

Timothy H. Lim (Moderator):
Thank you. What we’ve seen is that the Dead Sea Scrolls do not destabilize the Bible—they deepen it. They reveal Scripture as living, contested, and ever-relevant. In their fragments, we hear the eternal conversation between God and humanity, still unfolding today.

Topic 5: Messianic Expectations & Apocalyptic Visions

Moderator: John J. Collins
Speakers: Geza Vermes, James C. VanderKam, George J. Brooke, Timothy H. Lim, Lawrence H. Schiffman

John J. Collins (Moderator):
Throughout the Scrolls, we find a burning expectation: God would intervene in history, sending deliverers, establishing justice, and ending the reign of darkness. Let me begin with this: when the Qumran community dreamed of the Messiah, what did they mean? Was it one figure, or more?

Geza Vermes:
In the Scrolls, messianism is not singular but multiple. We find talk of two Messiahs—a priestly one from the line of Aaron, and a kingly one from David’s line. This dual hope reveals a community that longed for both purity and power, both holiness at the altar and strength on the battlefield. To them, redemption was not abstract but embodied in leaders who would restore God’s order.

James C. VanderKam:
Indeed, Geza. Yet we must see the broader picture. Messianism at Qumran reflects a spectrum of Jewish hopes. Some texts emphasize the priest, others the king, still others a prophetic figure like Moses. This diversity shows that messianic expectation was less a doctrine and more a yearning. They were waiting for God to act, and they gave that hope many faces.

George J. Brooke:
And alongside these Messiahs, there is always the Teacher of Righteousness—a historical leader of their own past whom they believed revealed God’s true law. In some ways, he was their prototype Messiah. The Teacher’s memory infused their hope for the future. Messianism, then, was rooted in history as much as in prophecy.

Timothy H. Lim:
And this shows us the flexibility of Jewish thought. The Messiah could be priest, king, prophet, or teacher because what mattered most was deliverance. Sectarian communities like Qumran sharpened that expectation into dual figures, but the underlying vision was one of cosmic restoration.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
But we must remember: their messianism was sectarian. They did not imagine salvation for all Israel, much less for the nations. Their messianic hopes were for themselves, the sons of light. This was not a universal gospel—it was a partisan hope. That exclusivity is as important as their imagination.

John J. Collins (Moderator):
Thank you. Now let’s turn to the apocalyptic side. The War Scroll envisions cosmic battles, angels fighting alongside humans, the triumph of light over darkness. My question is: how should we understand these apocalyptic visions? Were they literal expectations, or symbolic expressions of hope?

George J. Brooke:
For the community, they were both. They expected real conflict, but they also framed it in cosmic terms. The Romans or Jerusalem elites became shadows of the Sons of Darkness. By imagining battle on a cosmic stage, they gave meaning to their earthly struggles. Apocalyptic was theology written as war poetry.

Geza Vermes:
Yes, George. Apocalyptic literature is never just fantasy; it is protest. The Scrolls’ visions of light and darkness reflect despair over corruption and injustice. They projected their anguish onto heaven, believing God himself would fight for them. It is both political commentary and spiritual comfort.

James C. VanderKam:
And yet the detail is remarkable—troop formations, banners, battle cries. This was not vague symbolism; it was strategy infused with eschatology. They genuinely expected to fight, with divine aid, for God’s kingdom. The War Scroll reads like a manual for holy war, not mere metaphor.

Timothy H. Lim:
But apocalyptic is also about time. The Scrolls constantly speak of “the end of days.” By framing their age as the final age, they invested their present with urgency. Every meal, every immersion, every prayer was preparation for imminent cosmic upheaval. Apocalyptic was a way of making the present holy.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
I would caution us not to generalize. The Qumran sect was extreme. Most Jews did not live in apocalyptic fever. Pharisees and Sadducees did not imagine angels descending with swords. Apocalyptic at Qumran reflects one strand of Judaism, not the whole. We must not let their radical imagination overshadow the broader Jewish reality.

John J. Collins (Moderator):
Important cautions. Let me close with a final question: What do these messianic and apocalyptic hopes mean for us today? Do they still speak, or are they relics of a lost world?

Geza Vermes:
They speak, because hope never dies. Every generation longs for justice, for deliverance, for leaders who will restore what is broken. The Qumran sect reminds us that hope can take many forms, but its root is always the same: the cry of the human heart for God to intervene.

James C. VanderKam:
Yes, and for Jews and Christians alike, these texts illuminate the soil from which our traditions grew. Early Christianity did not invent messianism or apocalypse—it inherited them. Understanding Qumran gives depth to our own Scriptures. It reminds us that our hopes are ancient, not novel.

George J. Brooke:
And for scholars, they remind us that communities in crisis dream in symbols. Messianism and apocalypse are human strategies for surviving despair. They show us how faith can turn fear into vision. That, too, is a lesson for our fractured world.

Timothy H. Lim:
For me, they warn and inspire. They warn us of sectarian exclusivity—of the danger of imagining salvation for “us” alone. But they also inspire us with their passion, their urgency, their conviction that history bends toward justice.

Lawrence H. Schiffman:
And for Jews today, they are part of our memory—evidence of how deeply our ancestors longed for God’s redemption. Even if their vision was narrow, their longing was real. And that longing is still with us, in prayers for Messiah, in hopes for peace. The Dead Sea Scrolls remind us that hope is as ancient as humanity.

John J. Collins (Moderator):
Thank you. We see now that the Dead Sea Scrolls are not only fragments of parchment, but fragments of longing. Their messianic hopes, their apocalyptic dreams, are echoes of the eternal human cry for justice, purity, and God’s presence. They may belong to the desert of Qumran, but their voice carries into every age.

Topic 6: The Dead Sea Scrolls and Early Christianity

Moderator: Lawrence H. Schiffman
Speakers: Geza Vermes, John J. Collins, James C. VanderKam, Peter W. Flint, Timothy H. Lim

Lawrence H. Schiffman (Moderator):
Our focus today is the relationship between the Dead Sea Scrolls and the beginnings of Christianity. Many popular writers have exaggerated these connections. So let’s ask carefully: what real insights do the Scrolls give us about the world of Jesus and the early church?

Geza Vermes:
The Scrolls reveal a Jewish world buzzing with expectation. Messianic hopes, apocalyptic visions, rituals of purity—all of these shaped the atmosphere in which Jesus taught. Yet, let me be clear: the Scrolls do not mention Jesus. They are not Christian texts. They are Jewish texts that help us understand the religious soil from which Christianity sprang.

John J. Collins:
I would agree, Geza. The Scrolls illuminate the diversity of Judaism at the time. They show us that ideas we associate with Christianity—such as dualism, eschatology, and even communal meals—were already in circulation among Jews. Christianity did not emerge in a vacuum. It was one voice in a chorus of competing Jewish interpretations of God’s will.

James C. VanderKam:
And that is crucial. When we see John the Baptist baptizing in the Jordan, we can now compare that with Qumran’s ritual washings. When Jesus speaks of the kingdom of God arriving soon, we can place that alongside Qumran’s apocalyptic timetable. The Scrolls provide context. They don’t prove or disprove Christianity, but they make the New Testament more historically intelligible.

Peter W. Flint:
Indeed, James. The Scrolls also show us how Scripture was read in this period. The pesher commentaries interpret prophets like Habakkuk as if they were written for the present age. This is strikingly similar to how the New Testament writers interpret the Hebrew Bible. Both communities read Scripture as a living word for their own time.

Timothy H. Lim:
But we must also note the differences. The Qumran sect was exclusive, preparing for God’s deliverance only for themselves. Christianity, by contrast, opened the covenant to Gentiles, proclaiming salvation for all. That is a fundamental divergence. To compare them is enlightening, but to conflate them is misleading.

Lawrence H. Schiffman (Moderator):
Well said. Let me push further: do the Scrolls change the way we should view Jesus himself? Do they shed light on his identity or mission?

John J. Collins:
They don’t mention him directly, but they sharpen the contours of his world. The Scrolls show that messianic expectation could take many forms: priestly, kingly, prophetic. This helps us see how Jesus could be interpreted in multiple ways by his followers. The Scrolls don’t define him, but they help explain why he could be seen as Messiah.

Geza Vermes:
Exactly. For example, the idea of a “Teacher of Righteousness” at Qumran shows us that communities already believed God had raised up inspired leaders to guide them. That makes the idea of Jesus as teacher and prophet more understandable in its context. Again, continuity, not identity.

James C. VanderKam:
Yes, and the dualism of light versus darkness in the Scrolls resonates with the Gospel of John: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” While John is unique, it echoes broader Jewish imagery preserved in the Scrolls.

Peter W. Flint:
But we must remember: the Scrolls were sectarian. Their messianic figures were for insiders. Jesus, by contrast, reached out to tax collectors, sinners, Gentiles. That openness marks a radical departure from Qumran’s exclusivity.

Timothy H. Lim:
Which makes the contrast even more illuminating. The Scrolls help us see how radical Jesus really was. By comparing him with Qumran, we see both the continuity and the bold innovation.

Lawrence H. Schiffman (Moderator):
Final question: what is the enduring value of the Dead Sea Scrolls for Christians, Jews, and all seekers today?

Geza Vermes:
For Christians, they ground the New Testament in its Jewish context. For Jews, they recover a lost chapter of our heritage. For all, they are a reminder that faith is always born in history, among real people longing for God.

James C. VanderKam:
They also teach us humility. The texts show diversity, disagreement, and debate. That is the soil of revelation. Unity of faith does not mean uniformity of voice.

John J. Collins:
And they call us to dialogue. The Scrolls are a Jewish treasure that illuminates Christian origins. They are a bridge, not a wall.

Peter W. Flint:
Yes, and they remind us that Scripture is alive. Whether in Qumran caves or in modern churches and synagogues, God’s word continues to be read and reinterpreted for each generation.

Timothy H. Lim:
For me, the enduring value is this: the Scrolls show that hope is never dead. They longed for redemption, we long for redemption. In their fragments, we hear our own longing for God’s justice.

Lawrence H. Schiffman (Moderator):
Thank you. What emerges here is not that Qumran “explains” Christianity, but that it enriches our understanding of both Judaism and Christianity. The Scrolls remind us that both grew out of the same soil: the passionate, diverse, expectant faith of Second Temple Judaism.

Topic 7: Future Directions in Scrolls Research

Moderator: Jodi Magness
Speakers: Martin Abegg Jr., Michael Wise, Philip R. Davies, John J. Collins, James C. VanderKam

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
We’ve journeyed through text, identity, archaeology, Scripture, messianism, and Christianity. Now we must look ahead. In 2025, with new technologies and new generations of scholars, what do you see as the greatest opportunities—or challenges—in the future of Dead Sea Scrolls research?

Martin Abegg Jr.:
For me, the greatest opportunity lies in technology. Multispectral imaging, AI-driven reconstruction, and digital databases are transforming how we read fragments. Words that once lay invisible in dust now shine through. But the challenge will be discernment: distinguishing between genuine ancient text and modern digital guesswork. We must ensure that technology serves the Scrolls, not overwrites them.

Michael Wise:
I agree, Martin. Technology opens doors, but we must also think of accessibility. Too long, the Scrolls were the possession of a small circle of scholars. Now, with digital publication, every student, every seeker, can encounter these texts. The future must be democratic. The Scrolls belong to humanity, not just to academia.

Philip R. Davies:
Yes, accessibility is vital, but we must also push against old assumptions. The identity of the Qumran community, the function of the site, the very notion of canon—all of these need fresh scrutiny. Too much has been repeated as dogma since the 1950s. The next generation must be willing to overturn consensus when the evidence demands it.

John J. Collins:
Philip, you’re right. At the same time, balance is key. We should avoid sensational claims—whether about Jesus in the Scrolls or conspiracies of suppression. The next era must be rigorous and sober, yet imaginative. The Scrolls have more to teach us, but only if we approach them with humility and openness.

James C. VanderKam:
And for me, the challenge is integration. Archaeology, text studies, theology, digital tools—they often proceed in silos. The future of Scrolls research lies in bringing these disciplines together. Only then will we see the whole picture: the community in its caves, its Scriptures in their hands, its faith in its heart.

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
Thank you. Let me ask a second question: beyond academia, what spiritual or cultural relevance do the Scrolls have for our world today? Why should ordinary people still care about fragments of parchment found in desert caves?

Michael Wise:
Because those fragments are voices. They speak of hope, discipline, longing, and devotion. They remind us that faith is never abstract—it is lived in community, in words, in rituals. To read the Scrolls is to hear the heartbeat of people who believed their age was the turning point of history. That resonates in every generation.

Martin Abegg Jr.:
And they remind us of fragility. These texts survived only by chance, hidden in caves for two millennia. Human faith, too, is fragile. Yet even fragments can carry the voice of God. That is a powerful message for anyone who feels their faith is broken.

Philip R. Davies:
But they also provoke. The Scrolls remind us that religion is contested, messy, and diverse. This should challenge modern communities to embrace complexity rather than seek uniformity. If ancient Judaism could live with textual diversity, perhaps we, too, can learn to hold our disagreements without fear.

John J. Collins:
I would add that the Scrolls are a shared heritage. Jews, Christians, and all seekers can find meaning in them. In an age of division, the Scrolls are a bridge, showing us our common roots in the ancient search for God.

James C. VanderKam:
Yes, and they remind us that sacred texts do not fall from heaven fully formed. They are transmitted, interpreted, wrestled with. That does not diminish their holiness—it deepens it. For modern readers, the Scrolls are an invitation to join that long, unfinished conversation with God.

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
A final question, then: if you could leave one hope for the next seventy-five years of Scrolls research, what would it be?

Martin Abegg Jr.:
That technology reveals even more hidden lines of text, without distorting their authenticity.

Michael Wise:
That access continues to widen, so every curious mind can engage these ancient treasures.

Philip R. Davies:
That future scholars resist dogma and dare to ask unsettling questions.

John J. Collins:
That scholarship continues to serve faith and dialogue, not sensationalism.

James C. VanderKam:
That integration of disciplines leads us to a fuller, truer picture of the Qumran community and its legacy.

Jodi Magness (Moderator):
Thank you. The Dead Sea Scrolls began as fragile fragments in caves, yet they have become voices shaping faith, scholarship, and imagination for generations. Their future lies not only in libraries and labs, but in every heart willing to listen.

Final Thoughts (Closing Reflection)

Delivered by John J. Collins (representing apocalyptic vision and synthesis):

As we conclude, let us remember: the Dead Sea Scrolls were born in crisis. They came from a community fractured, yearning, and waiting for God. And yet, they endured. Against the desert, against time, against the silence of two thousand years, their words survived.

They teach us three lessons. First, that Scripture is alive—it grows, it breathes, it is wrestled with. Second, that identity is never simple; it is shaped in conflict and in hope. And third, that messianic longing and apocalyptic dreams are not relics of the past, but reflections of the eternal human cry for justice and peace.

As we leave, may we carry with us the humility of those scribes, the passion of those seekers, and the courage to continue the conversation. The Scrolls are not finished speaking, and we are not finished listening.

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