I caught most of Rick Warren's "Civil Debate" Saturday night. Both liberals and conservatives mumbled about it before hand. The liberals no doubt thought Obama was selling out to be associated with an evangelical church like Warren's. The conservatives didn't like even the suggestion that Obama might have something Christian about him. I read one fundamentalist lobbyist's debrief from the night. He apologized for fearing that Warren would not give abortion and gay rights the moral centrality they deserved.
This response belies the fact that McCain was clearly the political winner of the night. "One or two issue evangelicals" who had doubts about McCain before the debate, left assured that he was their man. Meanwhile, I have no question that Obama will be roasted alive in certain conservative media machines, not least for his answer on non-discrimination in relation to U.S. faith based funding. This comment, I think, will undermine any gains Obama made by supporting faith based funding in the first place.
At the same time, Obama's attempt to "meet in the middle" will certainly alienate his own base. Many in his party will rail at his understanding of marriage proper as between a man and a woman, despite his support for civil unions.
My take away, though, was that--political positions aside--the way you respond to the two individuals themselves probably breaks at 40 years old. Those over 40 will think, "That McCain knows what he believes, unlike that Obama who ponders and talks on and on. McCain didn't have to think about his answer--he knew it and could rattle the points off boom, boom, boom before Warren could even get the questions out.
"McCain understands that you don't compromise. You defeat evil, you don't talk to it. Obama didn't know his Theology 101. He couldn't even give a clear answer to when life begins."
Those under 40, on the other hand, might think, "Man, McCain didn't even need to show up because he gave all the party line answers he knew would play in an evangelical setting. 'Oo, oo, I know the answer to that one. Can I tell you all the other things your audience expects to hear from a Republican candidate?'
"Obama sounded authentic. We were hearing what he really thinks rather than some stump speech. McCain may have been a maverick who bucked the party in the past, but that man is long gone.
"And anyone who thinks there is a simple answer to the complex issues of the world is a dangerous person, voted most likely to get us involved in some royal dukie at home and abroad. You don't solve anything by making rules. You solve things by meeting the other side half way and coming up with concrete paths to alleviate problems."
For what it's worth, I thought it was a great thing for Warren to do. I don't think he completely succeeded at what he was aiming for. But I think it was very honorable and Christian of him.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Artapanus and Jewish Monotheism
I thought I would kill a couple birds with one stone by quoting some Artapanus and reflecting briefly on what his work might imply about Jewish monotheism at the time of Christ.
First, Artapanus was an Egyptian Jew who probably dates to the late 200's BC. I find Barclay's suggestion that he was from the environs of Heliopolis very interesting, although Alexandria gets mentioned more often (128 n.5). His writings unfortunately are only known to us second and third hand. Most think that Josephus used him as a source for this portion of the Antiquites. But it is in Eusebius that we have the three surviving excerpts. Unfortunately, however, Eusebius himself is drawing from another historian, Alexander Polyhistor, drawing from Artapanus. Such are the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
Carl Holladay has suggested that Artapanus might have been "typical of a large segment of Diaspora Jews who did not find pagan traditions threatening or compromising to fidelity to their religious traditions" (193). I find this plausible, especially since I suspect Philo himself seems to have started out more friendly with such things (cf. "On the Eternity of the World," the fact that he probably had a gymnasium education and his nephew actually apostatized). I wonder if Philo only went nationalistic in the wake of polarizing political developments in his environment.
Perhaps even more important is the fact that Artapanus is likely pre-Maccabean. This is the period of history where Judaism could easily have gone either way. It could have fully Hellenized and disappeared into oblivion. Or, as did happen, some king could push a certain segment of Judaism just a little too hard with the resulting backlash of nationalism and ethnocentric revival. The rest is history, and it is hard to see Christianity having come into existence if it hadn't turned in this direction. Go Maccabees!
So what was Artapanus' understanding of God? Here are some excerpts from Eusebius' excerpts, translated by the honorable John J. Collins in vol. 2 of the OTP (with some slight modifications).
_______________
Artapanus says in his Judaica that the Jews are named "Hermiouth," which, translated into Greek, is "Jews." They were called Hebrews after Abraham. He says that the latter came to Egypt with all his household to the Egyptian king Pharethothes, and taught him astrology. [from Fragment 1]
Artapanus says in his "on the Jews" that Joseph was a descendant of Abraham and son of Jacob... This man was the first to divide the land [of Egypt] and distinguish it with boundaries... This man also discovered measurements and on account of these things he was greatly loved by the Egyptians. He married Aseneth, the daughter of a Heliopolitan priest and begot children by her.
He [Artapanus] says that these, who were called Hermiouth, founded the temple in Athos and that in Heliopolis. [from Fragment 2]
Since she [one Egyptian queen] was barren, she adopted the child of one of the Jews and named it Moses. As a grown man he was called Mousaeus by the Greeks.
This Mousaeus was the teacher of Orpheus. As a grown man he bestowed many useful benefits on humankind, for he invented boats and devices for stone construction and the Egyptian arms and the implements for drawing water and for warfare, and philosophy. Further, he divided the state into 36 nomes and appointed for each of the nomes the god to be worshipped, and for the priests the sacred letters, and that they should be cats and dogs and ibises...
He did all these things for the sake of maintaining the monarchy firm for Chenephres... On account of these things then Moses was loved by the masses, and was deemed worthy of godlike honor by the priests and called Hermes, on account of the interpretation of sacred letters...
When Moses came to the district called Hermopolis, with about a hundred thousand farmers [as his army against the Ethiopians], he pitched a camp there... Those around Moses founded a city in that place on account of the size of the army, and made the ibis sacred there because it destroys the creatures that harm people. They called it Hermopolis.
The Ethiopians, even though they were his enemies, loved Moses so much that they learned the circumcision of the genital organs from him, and not only they, but also all the priests...
The king of the Egyptians [after Chenephres' death]... summoned him [Moses] and asked for what purpose he had come. He responded that the master of the universe had ordered him to release the Jews. When the king learned this, he confined him in prison. But when night came, all the doors of the prison opened of themselves, and some of the guards died, while others were relaxed by sleep and their weapons were broken.
Moses came out and went to the royal chambers. He found the doors open and went in. There, since the guards were relaxed, he woke the king. The latter was astonished at what had happened and bade Moses say the name of the god who had sent him, mocking him.
But he bent forward and pronounced it into his ear. When the king heard it, he fell down speechless but revived when taken hold of by Moses. He wrote the name on a tablet and sealed it, but one the priests who disparaged what was written on the tablet died with a convulsion.
... Again, Moses released a frog, through his staff, and in addition to these things, locusts and lice. On this account the Egyptians dedicate the rod in every temple, and similarly [they dedicate it] to Isis, since the earth is Isis, and when it was struck with the rod, it released its marvels. [excerpt from Fragment 3]
______________
We recognize in Artapanus "apologetic historiography," telling history in such a way as to defend your group against its detractors and despisers. The Egyptian Manetho had done the same against the Jews in the early 200s, considering them a collection of lepers.
Yet the way Artapanus goes about doing this is striking. Barclay categorizes him under the heading of "cultural convergence" or perhaps we might say cultural assimilation. He has Abraham teaching the Egyptians astrology and Joseph marries the daughter of an Egyptian priest no problem. Moses is the teacher of Orpheus in Greek religion.
Moses seemingly has no problem with helping the Egyptians worship their own gods--he even assigns them to them. Meanwhile, Moses himself is "like a god" to them. They call him Hermes. They found a temple in his honor.
The conception of God we draw from these excerpts is of God as indeed the "monarch of the universe," far superior to any of these other gods. I don't quite agree with either Barclay or Collins who stand on opposite ends of the spectrum on whether Artapanus takes the Egyptian gods seriously or not. He does not disparage or mock them, I would say (in tension with Collins). But he doesn't really invest them with full reality either (in tension with Barclay).
They seem representative to Artapanus. They depict a truth. But clearly the God whose name Moses knows is absolutely superior. Moses is godlike in the world of the Egyptians, but the monarch of the universe trumps him royally.
It looks like a kind of pluralistic henotheism. Artapanus does not exactly deny or affirm the existence of other gods, but he doesn't seem to have a problem with other people worshipping other gods. However, he only worships the sovereign God, it would seem.
First, Artapanus was an Egyptian Jew who probably dates to the late 200's BC. I find Barclay's suggestion that he was from the environs of Heliopolis very interesting, although Alexandria gets mentioned more often (128 n.5). His writings unfortunately are only known to us second and third hand. Most think that Josephus used him as a source for this portion of the Antiquites. But it is in Eusebius that we have the three surviving excerpts. Unfortunately, however, Eusebius himself is drawing from another historian, Alexander Polyhistor, drawing from Artapanus. Such are the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
Carl Holladay has suggested that Artapanus might have been "typical of a large segment of Diaspora Jews who did not find pagan traditions threatening or compromising to fidelity to their religious traditions" (193). I find this plausible, especially since I suspect Philo himself seems to have started out more friendly with such things (cf. "On the Eternity of the World," the fact that he probably had a gymnasium education and his nephew actually apostatized). I wonder if Philo only went nationalistic in the wake of polarizing political developments in his environment.
Perhaps even more important is the fact that Artapanus is likely pre-Maccabean. This is the period of history where Judaism could easily have gone either way. It could have fully Hellenized and disappeared into oblivion. Or, as did happen, some king could push a certain segment of Judaism just a little too hard with the resulting backlash of nationalism and ethnocentric revival. The rest is history, and it is hard to see Christianity having come into existence if it hadn't turned in this direction. Go Maccabees!
So what was Artapanus' understanding of God? Here are some excerpts from Eusebius' excerpts, translated by the honorable John J. Collins in vol. 2 of the OTP (with some slight modifications).
_______________
Artapanus says in his Judaica that the Jews are named "Hermiouth," which, translated into Greek, is "Jews." They were called Hebrews after Abraham. He says that the latter came to Egypt with all his household to the Egyptian king Pharethothes, and taught him astrology. [from Fragment 1]
Artapanus says in his "on the Jews" that Joseph was a descendant of Abraham and son of Jacob... This man was the first to divide the land [of Egypt] and distinguish it with boundaries... This man also discovered measurements and on account of these things he was greatly loved by the Egyptians. He married Aseneth, the daughter of a Heliopolitan priest and begot children by her.
He [Artapanus] says that these, who were called Hermiouth, founded the temple in Athos and that in Heliopolis. [from Fragment 2]
Since she [one Egyptian queen] was barren, she adopted the child of one of the Jews and named it Moses. As a grown man he was called Mousaeus by the Greeks.
This Mousaeus was the teacher of Orpheus. As a grown man he bestowed many useful benefits on humankind, for he invented boats and devices for stone construction and the Egyptian arms and the implements for drawing water and for warfare, and philosophy. Further, he divided the state into 36 nomes and appointed for each of the nomes the god to be worshipped, and for the priests the sacred letters, and that they should be cats and dogs and ibises...
He did all these things for the sake of maintaining the monarchy firm for Chenephres... On account of these things then Moses was loved by the masses, and was deemed worthy of godlike honor by the priests and called Hermes, on account of the interpretation of sacred letters...
When Moses came to the district called Hermopolis, with about a hundred thousand farmers [as his army against the Ethiopians], he pitched a camp there... Those around Moses founded a city in that place on account of the size of the army, and made the ibis sacred there because it destroys the creatures that harm people. They called it Hermopolis.
The Ethiopians, even though they were his enemies, loved Moses so much that they learned the circumcision of the genital organs from him, and not only they, but also all the priests...
The king of the Egyptians [after Chenephres' death]... summoned him [Moses] and asked for what purpose he had come. He responded that the master of the universe had ordered him to release the Jews. When the king learned this, he confined him in prison. But when night came, all the doors of the prison opened of themselves, and some of the guards died, while others were relaxed by sleep and their weapons were broken.
Moses came out and went to the royal chambers. He found the doors open and went in. There, since the guards were relaxed, he woke the king. The latter was astonished at what had happened and bade Moses say the name of the god who had sent him, mocking him.
But he bent forward and pronounced it into his ear. When the king heard it, he fell down speechless but revived when taken hold of by Moses. He wrote the name on a tablet and sealed it, but one the priests who disparaged what was written on the tablet died with a convulsion.
... Again, Moses released a frog, through his staff, and in addition to these things, locusts and lice. On this account the Egyptians dedicate the rod in every temple, and similarly [they dedicate it] to Isis, since the earth is Isis, and when it was struck with the rod, it released its marvels. [excerpt from Fragment 3]
______________
We recognize in Artapanus "apologetic historiography," telling history in such a way as to defend your group against its detractors and despisers. The Egyptian Manetho had done the same against the Jews in the early 200s, considering them a collection of lepers.
Yet the way Artapanus goes about doing this is striking. Barclay categorizes him under the heading of "cultural convergence" or perhaps we might say cultural assimilation. He has Abraham teaching the Egyptians astrology and Joseph marries the daughter of an Egyptian priest no problem. Moses is the teacher of Orpheus in Greek religion.
Moses seemingly has no problem with helping the Egyptians worship their own gods--he even assigns them to them. Meanwhile, Moses himself is "like a god" to them. They call him Hermes. They found a temple in his honor.
The conception of God we draw from these excerpts is of God as indeed the "monarch of the universe," far superior to any of these other gods. I don't quite agree with either Barclay or Collins who stand on opposite ends of the spectrum on whether Artapanus takes the Egyptian gods seriously or not. He does not disparage or mock them, I would say (in tension with Collins). But he doesn't really invest them with full reality either (in tension with Barclay).
They seem representative to Artapanus. They depict a truth. But clearly the God whose name Moses knows is absolutely superior. Moses is godlike in the world of the Egyptians, but the monarch of the universe trumps him royally.
It looks like a kind of pluralistic henotheism. Artapanus does not exactly deny or affirm the existence of other gods, but he doesn't seem to have a problem with other people worshipping other gods. However, he only worships the sovereign God, it would seem.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Did some New Testament books grow over time?
It has been so long since I entered the purgatorial fires of studying the Bible in context that it has become difficult to remember how shocking some of the things I say to my students must be--both to the young and even moreso to the adult ones I now teach regularly for our grad program. IWU's grad program right now, in my opinion, does a great service to a group of pastors who would not normally get masters training. The pool of groups in my evening classes is incredibly diverse and delectable. I've had Apostolic, Pentecostal, house church, Baptist, Bible Methodist, Disciples, Presbyterian, Free Methodist... and very few Wesleyans.
But I often feel depressed after class. Many of the things I say are obvious, far beyond any reasonable dispute. (Others aren't, of course) You know they're true as soon as someone points them out to you--like the fact that 1 Thessalonians says it was written to, well, people who lived in a place called Thessalonica.
But people aren't wired to read the Bible with the common sense they would read any other book. Some of my adult, pastor students have a squinty, puzzled look on their faces the whole 8 weeks of the course, as if I am speaking strange mysteries. I feel like I'm taking away their innocence, this despite the fact they stand up and speak from the Bible for God each week. Of course, I may be overestimating how well they see the implications of what I'm saying. Maybe they go back to their churches and continue using the Bible just as they did before, with no better sense of how to read the words in context.
Anyway, that's a tangent. The reason I bring it up is my conclusion that the vast majority of pastors in America (and that's not the ones who go to mainstream Christian colleges or seminaries) see the origins of the Bible much along the lines of God handing the 10 commandments to Moses. Paul sits down one day with papyrus and stylus in hand and God begins to tell him what to write. He writes until God is done inspiring him, perhaps amazed at the things "the Holy Spirit was revealing through him." And then we have it, Romans is done.
This model of inspiration is not wired to think of the books of the Bible in historical terms, as products of real situations with a writing process. You often encounter a subconscious resistance by many Christians when you begin to talk about the Bible historically, even when obvious, common sense aspects of that process are under discussion. And those who resist may not even be able to tell you why they find what you're saying puzzling or angering.
For example, many people will resist the idea that Paul or a biblical author might have used a secretary or sources in the course of composition. Mind you, becoming a scholar doesn't always change these deep seated inclinations. In my opinion, some evangelical scholarship is simply a sophisticated version of these aversions. Why the strong aversion, for example, to the idea that Silas might have served as Peter's secretary in 1 Peter 5? And since anyone can start a denomination or Bible college in America, it has historically been all too easy to insulate yourself as a group from obvious thoughts. There is a vast "scholarly" coping mechanism out there that has evolved with the main goal of avoiding obvious conclusions.
What inspired this little reflection is the fact that I was reading a little in Josephus' Jewish War the other day. The introduction was talking about how Josephus likely expanded the work over time, that the first two books of this 7 book work were probably added after the first publication.
For some reason, this clicked for me. It's a picture of Josephus writing a "first edition" of the War in honor of the emperor Vespasian, a very pro-Roman version. But of course every time someone wanted a copy, the manuscript had to be copied by hand all over again. The great thing about blogging is that if I make a mistake or want to fix or expand something, it is very easy to change it. So it was with ancient manuscript copying. Josephus was able to add two books to the front of the work giving historical background as a later copy was being made, a later "edition" if you would.
This picture of Josephus editing and expanding his work over time clicked with me in relation to some biblical material, John and Revelation in particular. With New Testament letters, it is a little different. They are sent to a particular location different from the author. The author doesn't really have the luxury to change much over time.
But the gospels and Acts could be a different situation. How do we know, for example, that Mark's parenthetical comments like "For the Jews all wash their hands..." or "By this Jesus declared all foods clean" were not added secondarily as new copies of Mark were made? The D manuscript of Acts is significantly longer than other manuscripts, and not because it contradicts the other versions. Most of the additions are geographical and explanatory.
Of course with D these additions were probably added later than Luke's lifetime. In the case of Mark, on the other hand, Mark himself could have added these comments. This creates complications for the synoptic question, for it is possible that Matthew and Luke used a slightly different version of Mark than we now have. It also potentially throws a monkey wrench into textual criticism as it is conventionally conceived. What if, for example, the story of the Samaritan women in John 8 was not in an early version of John while included in a later one?
In cases such as the latter one, where we actually have manuscripts with and without a particular verse or reading, the change is likely to have taken place after the author's lifetime. All the manuscripts of Mark have the verses we mentioned, but the earliest manuscripts of John don't have the story of the woman caught in adultery.
But in my opinion, the books that reflection on Josephus potentially impacts the most are John and Revelation. These are books that arguably belonged to a community of a somewhat more isolated bent with a charismatic figure or figures at its center that lived together over an extended period of time. And these two writings bear the marks of documents that have undergone significant expansion over time.
Let me just give a couple examples. In between the first and second sign in John is a reference to Jesus doing many signs. One explanation would be that an earlier version of John was expanded with the material that has reference to many signs now in between the original first and second signs.
One part of Revelation speaks of a sixth king on seven hills who "now is." This would likely be Vespasian. Yet it is the virtual consensus of tradition and scholarship that Revelation was finished in the reign of Domitian. My hunch is that the earliest version of Revelation was written just after Jerusalem and the temple was destroyed, but that it didn't reach its "final form" until the time of Domitian.
The model of ongoing editing and expansion over time fits what we observe in John and Revelation. It would also explain why John seems to show so little interaction with Mark--its earliest drafts would be created about the same time as Mark was being written. By the way, we have with the Dead Sea Scrolls clear examples of this sort of process, where among the scrolls are both earlier, shorter versions of documents and later, longer ones.
Now, back to where we started. I generally don't talk about this stuff with any of my IWU classes, with the exception of the times I teach a New Testament honors class. But you can see where this sort of thinking clashes with the usual model of how the books of the Bible were produced. For one thing, it seems such a human process, although why couldn't God inspire a person to edit and use sources as well as to receive dictation? But it also implies that John may not be a continuous narrative from a strictly historical perspective. I would suggest that this is no problem for John, but rather, a problem with our preconceptions about John.
I don't see any of these thoughts as contrary to faith or love of the Bible. And although I generally "don't go there" on many thoughts I have that seem obvious in the light of study, you have to wonder how Christianity can be healthy if at some point we don't develop a faith that can incorporate rather than avoid such things.
What do you think?
But I often feel depressed after class. Many of the things I say are obvious, far beyond any reasonable dispute. (Others aren't, of course) You know they're true as soon as someone points them out to you--like the fact that 1 Thessalonians says it was written to, well, people who lived in a place called Thessalonica.
But people aren't wired to read the Bible with the common sense they would read any other book. Some of my adult, pastor students have a squinty, puzzled look on their faces the whole 8 weeks of the course, as if I am speaking strange mysteries. I feel like I'm taking away their innocence, this despite the fact they stand up and speak from the Bible for God each week. Of course, I may be overestimating how well they see the implications of what I'm saying. Maybe they go back to their churches and continue using the Bible just as they did before, with no better sense of how to read the words in context.
Anyway, that's a tangent. The reason I bring it up is my conclusion that the vast majority of pastors in America (and that's not the ones who go to mainstream Christian colleges or seminaries) see the origins of the Bible much along the lines of God handing the 10 commandments to Moses. Paul sits down one day with papyrus and stylus in hand and God begins to tell him what to write. He writes until God is done inspiring him, perhaps amazed at the things "the Holy Spirit was revealing through him." And then we have it, Romans is done.
This model of inspiration is not wired to think of the books of the Bible in historical terms, as products of real situations with a writing process. You often encounter a subconscious resistance by many Christians when you begin to talk about the Bible historically, even when obvious, common sense aspects of that process are under discussion. And those who resist may not even be able to tell you why they find what you're saying puzzling or angering.
For example, many people will resist the idea that Paul or a biblical author might have used a secretary or sources in the course of composition. Mind you, becoming a scholar doesn't always change these deep seated inclinations. In my opinion, some evangelical scholarship is simply a sophisticated version of these aversions. Why the strong aversion, for example, to the idea that Silas might have served as Peter's secretary in 1 Peter 5? And since anyone can start a denomination or Bible college in America, it has historically been all too easy to insulate yourself as a group from obvious thoughts. There is a vast "scholarly" coping mechanism out there that has evolved with the main goal of avoiding obvious conclusions.
What inspired this little reflection is the fact that I was reading a little in Josephus' Jewish War the other day. The introduction was talking about how Josephus likely expanded the work over time, that the first two books of this 7 book work were probably added after the first publication.
For some reason, this clicked for me. It's a picture of Josephus writing a "first edition" of the War in honor of the emperor Vespasian, a very pro-Roman version. But of course every time someone wanted a copy, the manuscript had to be copied by hand all over again. The great thing about blogging is that if I make a mistake or want to fix or expand something, it is very easy to change it. So it was with ancient manuscript copying. Josephus was able to add two books to the front of the work giving historical background as a later copy was being made, a later "edition" if you would.
This picture of Josephus editing and expanding his work over time clicked with me in relation to some biblical material, John and Revelation in particular. With New Testament letters, it is a little different. They are sent to a particular location different from the author. The author doesn't really have the luxury to change much over time.
But the gospels and Acts could be a different situation. How do we know, for example, that Mark's parenthetical comments like "For the Jews all wash their hands..." or "By this Jesus declared all foods clean" were not added secondarily as new copies of Mark were made? The D manuscript of Acts is significantly longer than other manuscripts, and not because it contradicts the other versions. Most of the additions are geographical and explanatory.
Of course with D these additions were probably added later than Luke's lifetime. In the case of Mark, on the other hand, Mark himself could have added these comments. This creates complications for the synoptic question, for it is possible that Matthew and Luke used a slightly different version of Mark than we now have. It also potentially throws a monkey wrench into textual criticism as it is conventionally conceived. What if, for example, the story of the Samaritan women in John 8 was not in an early version of John while included in a later one?
In cases such as the latter one, where we actually have manuscripts with and without a particular verse or reading, the change is likely to have taken place after the author's lifetime. All the manuscripts of Mark have the verses we mentioned, but the earliest manuscripts of John don't have the story of the woman caught in adultery.
But in my opinion, the books that reflection on Josephus potentially impacts the most are John and Revelation. These are books that arguably belonged to a community of a somewhat more isolated bent with a charismatic figure or figures at its center that lived together over an extended period of time. And these two writings bear the marks of documents that have undergone significant expansion over time.
Let me just give a couple examples. In between the first and second sign in John is a reference to Jesus doing many signs. One explanation would be that an earlier version of John was expanded with the material that has reference to many signs now in between the original first and second signs.
One part of Revelation speaks of a sixth king on seven hills who "now is." This would likely be Vespasian. Yet it is the virtual consensus of tradition and scholarship that Revelation was finished in the reign of Domitian. My hunch is that the earliest version of Revelation was written just after Jerusalem and the temple was destroyed, but that it didn't reach its "final form" until the time of Domitian.
The model of ongoing editing and expansion over time fits what we observe in John and Revelation. It would also explain why John seems to show so little interaction with Mark--its earliest drafts would be created about the same time as Mark was being written. By the way, we have with the Dead Sea Scrolls clear examples of this sort of process, where among the scrolls are both earlier, shorter versions of documents and later, longer ones.
Now, back to where we started. I generally don't talk about this stuff with any of my IWU classes, with the exception of the times I teach a New Testament honors class. But you can see where this sort of thinking clashes with the usual model of how the books of the Bible were produced. For one thing, it seems such a human process, although why couldn't God inspire a person to edit and use sources as well as to receive dictation? But it also implies that John may not be a continuous narrative from a strictly historical perspective. I would suggest that this is no problem for John, but rather, a problem with our preconceptions about John.
I don't see any of these thoughts as contrary to faith or love of the Bible. And although I generally "don't go there" on many thoughts I have that seem obvious in the light of study, you have to wonder how Christianity can be healthy if at some point we don't develop a faith that can incorporate rather than avoid such things.
What do you think?
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Quotes, Allusions and Echoes in Hebrews 13
Now to finish up my brief tangent to Hebrews 13 by looking specifically at the possible references, allusions, and echoes of the temple's destruction in Hebrews 13.
13:3 "remember the prisoners"
If in fact Hebrews was written to the church at Rome not long after the Roman triumph in AD71 celebrating victory over the Jews, it is at least possible that some Roman Christian Jews were imprisoned in its wake and treated badly. Numerous Jews were brought back to Rome from Jerusalem and put to death after the Romans triumphally processed them through the streets.
Although there is an tradition of Jerusalem Christians fleeing Jerusalem to Pella just before its siege, we can presume that some Christians remained there to fight as well. For example, it is even possible that one of the disciples, Simon the Zealot, participated in the war against Rome. As is now commonly agreed, the Zealots did not exist as a specific group until around the time of the Jewish War. By the time Luke 6:15 was penned, the revolutionary group would likely have been what would come to mind.
Of course since Timothy has just been imprisoned somewhere other than Rome (13:23), we should not assume that the prisoners Hebrews has in mind were imprisoned in Rome. Apparently some crisis among Christians had taken place elsewhere as well. The Jewish War is in any case the best first century candidate for an event that would have created a climate of difficulty for Jews all over the world, including Christian Jews whose faith was probably more active than other Jews. Although there was never any intentional empire wide Roman persecution of Christians prior to AD250, the Jewish War might very well have created a brief approximation by coincidence.
13:5-6 Material difficulty around 71?
These verses hint of material hardship for the Roman audience. The Neronic persecution has often been suggested as the context. If there was hardship under Domitian, it would perhaps be a second possibility. However, the Neronic persecution is a better candidate for the prior persecution of the audience in which it lost some of its founding leaders (13:7). And the time of Domitian is pushing the time when Timothy was likely to continue in active ministry (13:23).
Difficulty in the wake of the temple's destruction is thus a strong candidate for such Roman hardship. When we look at the two Scriptural citations in search of possible echoes of this event, we find them. It is impossible to know whether the author had such contexts in mind, but we can at least suggest what they might be.
The statement "I will never leave you or forsake you" seems a splicing together of two or three Septuagint Scriptures:
Deuteronomy 31:6: "He will certainly neither leave you nor forsake you."
Joshua 1:5: "I will neither forsake you nor abandon you."
Genesis 28:15: "I will never forsake you until I do all things as I have spoken to you."
Deuteronomy 31 comes the closest, except it is in the first person of Joshua. And the Genesis passage has the "never" element.
This concoction of Scripture quotes was not the author of Hebrews' doing. The same exact combination appears only elsewhere in Philo, De Confusione 166. Apart from the somewhat Middle Platonic dualism of Hebrews, this parallel strongly adds to the case for an Alexandrian connection for the author.
In my opinion, Philo very likely wrote De Confusione before the Alexandrian "pogrom" and before the incident with Caligula. In my opinion, that means he wrote it before the political situation of Alexandria pulled him down from his days of more abstract philosophical speculation and indeed, a real strong flirtation with Hellenism in his early years (cf. Spec. 3.1). It would thus be difficult to link the origins of this Scriptural allusion to a specific political crisis in Alexandria.
However, Philo does make this citation in the context of desertion by God as discipline for the soul brought through the power of tyrants (Conf. 164-66). While Philo philosophizes this idea, it is quite possible that this verse was a commonplace in the Alexandrian synagogue for such situations where the people of Israel were oppressed. If so, then it would be an apt quote for the time just following the destruction of Jerusalem.
The second quote in 13:6 has similar potential echoes. Psalm 118:6 (117:6 LXX) has to do with the persecution and eventual vindication of the righteous. The other Christian prooftexts int he psalm ("the stone the builders rejected," "blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD") probably indicate that the earliest Christians primarily understood the psalm in relation to the sufferings and vindication of Jesus.
Nevertheless, 1 Peter 2:7 probably shows that the passage resonated around the time of the Jewish War (cf. 1 Pet. 5:13). The part of the psalm that Hebrews quotes in particular talks of not trusting in princes (118:9), even when all the nations surround you (118:10). Although we cannot prove the author was echoing these aspects of the psalm, it would certainly fit the context just following the temple's destruction if he was.
13:8 "Jesus Christ the same"
In the context of the past martyrdom of leaders and the present difficulty of the audience, the reminder that Jesus Christ is the same for them as he was in the past Neronic persecution would be apropos.
13:10 "those who serve the altar do not have authority to eat"
Recognizing Jared's argument that there probably were Levites scattered throughout the Diaspora even prior to the destruction of Jerusalem, I think it would be very speculative to suggest there were actual Levites in Rome tugging at the thoughts of the audience, even prior to the destruction of Jerusalem. And wouldn't the author more likely go literal in this "afterward" to the sermon if he were really talking about sacrifices at the literal Jerusalem temple at this point? And wouldn't he do so if it were still standing?
Although it is not a major piece of evidence, I'm arguing that the metaphor here fits better after the temple's destruction than before.
13:11-14 "we have no remaining city here"
The most likely allusion to the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple of all is in 13:14. The lead up to this verse speaks of going outside the camp in disgrace, like the unclean carcasses of the animals sacrificed. The train of thought equates the camp with a city, and clearly Jerusalem is by far the most likely candidate.
While a person might easily make such a comment prior to Jerusalem's destruction, it would be deeply ironic. It would just happen to turn out that the city this author said would not remain didn't remain within just a few years. On the other hand, no coincidence would be involved if in fact the author were alluding to a city that currently was not standing.
13:18-19,23 "pray for us," "we have a good conscience," "Timothy has been released"
The audience in Rome is experiencing difficulty. The author in a different location has been under scrutiny. Timothy in another place has just been in prison. Such widespread persecution could be coincidental. We have no evidence of an empire-wide persecution of Christians until the third century, so it is not a matter of some Roman decree.
We would argue, however, that the destruction of the Jerusalem likely created a climate of Jewish persecution on an empire-wide scale, not by design but by convergence. And since Christians were not distinguishable from mainstream Jews either internally or externally at this time, they would have partaken of it.
These are some possible allusions to the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in Hebrews 13.
13:3 "remember the prisoners"
If in fact Hebrews was written to the church at Rome not long after the Roman triumph in AD71 celebrating victory over the Jews, it is at least possible that some Roman Christian Jews were imprisoned in its wake and treated badly. Numerous Jews were brought back to Rome from Jerusalem and put to death after the Romans triumphally processed them through the streets.
Although there is an tradition of Jerusalem Christians fleeing Jerusalem to Pella just before its siege, we can presume that some Christians remained there to fight as well. For example, it is even possible that one of the disciples, Simon the Zealot, participated in the war against Rome. As is now commonly agreed, the Zealots did not exist as a specific group until around the time of the Jewish War. By the time Luke 6:15 was penned, the revolutionary group would likely have been what would come to mind.
Of course since Timothy has just been imprisoned somewhere other than Rome (13:23), we should not assume that the prisoners Hebrews has in mind were imprisoned in Rome. Apparently some crisis among Christians had taken place elsewhere as well. The Jewish War is in any case the best first century candidate for an event that would have created a climate of difficulty for Jews all over the world, including Christian Jews whose faith was probably more active than other Jews. Although there was never any intentional empire wide Roman persecution of Christians prior to AD250, the Jewish War might very well have created a brief approximation by coincidence.
13:5-6 Material difficulty around 71?
These verses hint of material hardship for the Roman audience. The Neronic persecution has often been suggested as the context. If there was hardship under Domitian, it would perhaps be a second possibility. However, the Neronic persecution is a better candidate for the prior persecution of the audience in which it lost some of its founding leaders (13:7). And the time of Domitian is pushing the time when Timothy was likely to continue in active ministry (13:23).
Difficulty in the wake of the temple's destruction is thus a strong candidate for such Roman hardship. When we look at the two Scriptural citations in search of possible echoes of this event, we find them. It is impossible to know whether the author had such contexts in mind, but we can at least suggest what they might be.
The statement "I will never leave you or forsake you" seems a splicing together of two or three Septuagint Scriptures:
Deuteronomy 31:6: "He will certainly neither leave you nor forsake you."
Joshua 1:5: "I will neither forsake you nor abandon you."
Genesis 28:15: "I will never forsake you until I do all things as I have spoken to you."
Deuteronomy 31 comes the closest, except it is in the first person of Joshua. And the Genesis passage has the "never" element.
This concoction of Scripture quotes was not the author of Hebrews' doing. The same exact combination appears only elsewhere in Philo, De Confusione 166. Apart from the somewhat Middle Platonic dualism of Hebrews, this parallel strongly adds to the case for an Alexandrian connection for the author.
In my opinion, Philo very likely wrote De Confusione before the Alexandrian "pogrom" and before the incident with Caligula. In my opinion, that means he wrote it before the political situation of Alexandria pulled him down from his days of more abstract philosophical speculation and indeed, a real strong flirtation with Hellenism in his early years (cf. Spec. 3.1). It would thus be difficult to link the origins of this Scriptural allusion to a specific political crisis in Alexandria.
However, Philo does make this citation in the context of desertion by God as discipline for the soul brought through the power of tyrants (Conf. 164-66). While Philo philosophizes this idea, it is quite possible that this verse was a commonplace in the Alexandrian synagogue for such situations where the people of Israel were oppressed. If so, then it would be an apt quote for the time just following the destruction of Jerusalem.
The second quote in 13:6 has similar potential echoes. Psalm 118:6 (117:6 LXX) has to do with the persecution and eventual vindication of the righteous. The other Christian prooftexts int he psalm ("the stone the builders rejected," "blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD") probably indicate that the earliest Christians primarily understood the psalm in relation to the sufferings and vindication of Jesus.
Nevertheless, 1 Peter 2:7 probably shows that the passage resonated around the time of the Jewish War (cf. 1 Pet. 5:13). The part of the psalm that Hebrews quotes in particular talks of not trusting in princes (118:9), even when all the nations surround you (118:10). Although we cannot prove the author was echoing these aspects of the psalm, it would certainly fit the context just following the temple's destruction if he was.
13:8 "Jesus Christ the same"
In the context of the past martyrdom of leaders and the present difficulty of the audience, the reminder that Jesus Christ is the same for them as he was in the past Neronic persecution would be apropos.
13:10 "those who serve the altar do not have authority to eat"
Recognizing Jared's argument that there probably were Levites scattered throughout the Diaspora even prior to the destruction of Jerusalem, I think it would be very speculative to suggest there were actual Levites in Rome tugging at the thoughts of the audience, even prior to the destruction of Jerusalem. And wouldn't the author more likely go literal in this "afterward" to the sermon if he were really talking about sacrifices at the literal Jerusalem temple at this point? And wouldn't he do so if it were still standing?
Although it is not a major piece of evidence, I'm arguing that the metaphor here fits better after the temple's destruction than before.
13:11-14 "we have no remaining city here"
The most likely allusion to the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple of all is in 13:14. The lead up to this verse speaks of going outside the camp in disgrace, like the unclean carcasses of the animals sacrificed. The train of thought equates the camp with a city, and clearly Jerusalem is by far the most likely candidate.
While a person might easily make such a comment prior to Jerusalem's destruction, it would be deeply ironic. It would just happen to turn out that the city this author said would not remain didn't remain within just a few years. On the other hand, no coincidence would be involved if in fact the author were alluding to a city that currently was not standing.
13:18-19,23 "pray for us," "we have a good conscience," "Timothy has been released"
The audience in Rome is experiencing difficulty. The author in a different location has been under scrutiny. Timothy in another place has just been in prison. Such widespread persecution could be coincidental. We have no evidence of an empire-wide persecution of Christians until the third century, so it is not a matter of some Roman decree.
We would argue, however, that the destruction of the Jerusalem likely created a climate of Jewish persecution on an empire-wide scale, not by design but by convergence. And since Christians were not distinguishable from mainstream Jews either internally or externally at this time, they would have partaken of it.
These are some possible allusions to the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in Hebrews 13.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Explanatory Notes: Hebrews 13:17-25
13:17 Have confidence in your leaders and submit, for it is they who are guarding your souls as ones who will give an account, so that they might do this with joy and not with difficulty. For this is pointless for you.
It is of course possible that the author is simply making a general admonition to submit to those in authority. But the exhortation goes on just long enough to make us suspect he may know of some issue here between the audience and its leaders.
It is not clear whether Hebrews addresses one local assembly or a collection of them. Here and in 13:24, the leaders are discussed in a way that distinguishes them from the audience of the sermon proper. They are discussed in the third person.
The purpose of church leaders appears here as the guarding and protecting of the "souls" of the audience. As natural this reference to "souls" may seem to us, it is noteworthy in the context of the New Testament.
It is clear that "soul" here does not mean "life," as in Matthew 10:39. The leaders are not trying to save the audience's lives. "Soul" in Hebrew referred to an entire living creature, whether human or otherwise. It is theoretically possible that the author sees Christian leaders as guardians of whole persons, body and spirit.
But it is perhaps most likely, given the general dualism of Hebrews, that the author is speaking of leaders as protectors of the eternal spirits or "souls" of the members of the audience. This is the way the word soul is used in Matthew 10:28.
As pointless as it is to resist those who are trying to help you, it seems an unfortunate aspect of human nature. The author of Hebrews assumes that the leaders of the audience have the knowledge and wisdom necessary to give appropriate guidance and direction. Presumably, they agree with his theology.
We thus probably can probably connect this verse to earlier verses like 5:11-14, where the author chastises the audience for their failure to mature and move toward a deeper understanding of Christ's atoning significance. Their leaders, quite possibly, had been urging them toward such understandings themselves. The author of Hebrews writes to reinforce these understandings with strong biblical support.
13:18 Pray for us, for we are persuaded that we have a good conscience, and are wishing to conduct ourselves well in all matters.
It is also a persistant feature of human nature to attack the character of those who you disagree with or those who critique your behavior. The author here defends the personal character of himself and his associates. This is perhaps the most "Paul sounding" verse in Hebrews. However, there is no basis for the theory that the author was pretending to be Paul.
13:19 And I encourage you to do this all the more so that I might be restored to you more quickly.
This verse, along with the previous one, gives us the impression that the author himself might be facing some political difficulty, as we see Timothy was in 13:23. The author asks the audience to pray for him and people like Timothy, so that they will be able to surmount opposition to them and come to the location of the audience. We get the distinct impression that the author himself has ministered in the past at the location of the audience.
13:20 Now may the God of peace, who brought up the great shepherd of the sheep from the dead with the blood of an eternal covenant, our Lord Jesus,
Thus begins the benediction of the letter/sermon. God remains the primary figure, as in early Christian theology in general. He is the "God of peace," who fosters brotherly love, submission to leaders, and harmony in general.
The great shepherd of the sheep is the Lord Jesus. Although Hebrews does not explicitly connect the guarding of church leaders to shepherding, the role seems analogous. The mention of him as Lord Jesus implies the early Christian confession of Jesus as Lord.
The image of God "bringing up" Jesus is interesting for more than one reason. For one, it is worded in a way that connotes movement through space more than resurrection of dead corpses. It may simply be another metaphor for the same event, or it may fit with a more spiritual sense of the afterlife on the author's part in contrast to Paul's stronger sense of bodily continuity.
A second point of interest is that God brings him up with the blood of the eternal covenant. In the central argument of Hebrews, Jesus as high priest passes through the heavens. Here we have a more traditional image of God raising Jesus from the dead with an allusion to the priestly function explored so extensively in the earlier part of the sermon.
13:21 ... equip you with every good deed to do His will, doing in you what is pleasing before Him through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.
The word "equip" here is the same used in 11:3 of the creation--"were formed." There seems to be the sense of God working "you," plural, into what He wants it to be. And what God wants the church to be is a body of people who do good things in the world, following God's will.
God equips the audience to do His will through Jesus Christ. Although it is possible that the glory here goes to Jesus Christ, it is more likely that the author understands the glory to go to God.
13:22 Now I exhort you, brothers, to endure this word of exhortation, for I have written you even briefly.
Acts 13:15 refers to a sermon Paul gives as a "word of exhortation." Accordingly, most have concluded that Hebrews was meant to be read as a sermon. The fact that it has no opening prescript like a letter supports this conclusion.
13:23 Know that our brother Timothy has been released, with whom I will see you if he should come quickly.
Although there were no doubt many other Timothys in the ancient world, it is easy to conclude that the Timothy in view here is the same Pauline co-worker. It is thus easy to see the author of Hebrews as someone who had been associated with Paul during Paul's ministry in some way, although we cannot be absolutely certain.
1 and 2 Timothy clearly associate Timothy with Ephesus in the twilight of Paul's ministry, but we cannot be certain that it was there that Timothy was imprisoned. And since Timothy must come to the location of the author, it would seem that he is in yet a different location still.
13:24 Greet all your leaders and all the saints. Those from Italy greet you.
It is quite interesting that the sermon of Hebrews does not actually address the leaders of this assembly at all. The audience of the sermon is told to greet its own leaders and other saints who are presumably at the same general location. This makes us wonder if Hebrews was sent either to a specific assembly in a location with multiple assemblies. Or, perhaps more likely, the sermon is sent to a collection of assemblies with certain leaders in common.
The mention of "those from Italy" is taken by a significant number to indicate that Hebrews was sent to Rome. The word for "from" more often signifies being "away from." Those who greet the audience would thus be individuals originally from Italy sending their greetings back to Italy, the destination of the sermon/letter.
Further support for this hypothesis is the fact that we know of specific instances of persecution at Rome that would fit the allusions scattered throughou the sermon. We obviously do not know who these individuals "from Italy" were, although some have suggested Priscilla and Aquila as possible candidates. The fact that the author may be somewhere near Ephesus would add some small evidence to this suggestion.
13:25 Grace be with you all.
The letter ends with part of one of Paul's standard greetings. The author wishes God's favor on all who will hear the sermon.
It is of course possible that the author is simply making a general admonition to submit to those in authority. But the exhortation goes on just long enough to make us suspect he may know of some issue here between the audience and its leaders.
It is not clear whether Hebrews addresses one local assembly or a collection of them. Here and in 13:24, the leaders are discussed in a way that distinguishes them from the audience of the sermon proper. They are discussed in the third person.
The purpose of church leaders appears here as the guarding and protecting of the "souls" of the audience. As natural this reference to "souls" may seem to us, it is noteworthy in the context of the New Testament.
It is clear that "soul" here does not mean "life," as in Matthew 10:39. The leaders are not trying to save the audience's lives. "Soul" in Hebrew referred to an entire living creature, whether human or otherwise. It is theoretically possible that the author sees Christian leaders as guardians of whole persons, body and spirit.
But it is perhaps most likely, given the general dualism of Hebrews, that the author is speaking of leaders as protectors of the eternal spirits or "souls" of the members of the audience. This is the way the word soul is used in Matthew 10:28.
As pointless as it is to resist those who are trying to help you, it seems an unfortunate aspect of human nature. The author of Hebrews assumes that the leaders of the audience have the knowledge and wisdom necessary to give appropriate guidance and direction. Presumably, they agree with his theology.
We thus probably can probably connect this verse to earlier verses like 5:11-14, where the author chastises the audience for their failure to mature and move toward a deeper understanding of Christ's atoning significance. Their leaders, quite possibly, had been urging them toward such understandings themselves. The author of Hebrews writes to reinforce these understandings with strong biblical support.
13:18 Pray for us, for we are persuaded that we have a good conscience, and are wishing to conduct ourselves well in all matters.
It is also a persistant feature of human nature to attack the character of those who you disagree with or those who critique your behavior. The author here defends the personal character of himself and his associates. This is perhaps the most "Paul sounding" verse in Hebrews. However, there is no basis for the theory that the author was pretending to be Paul.
13:19 And I encourage you to do this all the more so that I might be restored to you more quickly.
This verse, along with the previous one, gives us the impression that the author himself might be facing some political difficulty, as we see Timothy was in 13:23. The author asks the audience to pray for him and people like Timothy, so that they will be able to surmount opposition to them and come to the location of the audience. We get the distinct impression that the author himself has ministered in the past at the location of the audience.
13:20 Now may the God of peace, who brought up the great shepherd of the sheep from the dead with the blood of an eternal covenant, our Lord Jesus,
Thus begins the benediction of the letter/sermon. God remains the primary figure, as in early Christian theology in general. He is the "God of peace," who fosters brotherly love, submission to leaders, and harmony in general.
The great shepherd of the sheep is the Lord Jesus. Although Hebrews does not explicitly connect the guarding of church leaders to shepherding, the role seems analogous. The mention of him as Lord Jesus implies the early Christian confession of Jesus as Lord.
The image of God "bringing up" Jesus is interesting for more than one reason. For one, it is worded in a way that connotes movement through space more than resurrection of dead corpses. It may simply be another metaphor for the same event, or it may fit with a more spiritual sense of the afterlife on the author's part in contrast to Paul's stronger sense of bodily continuity.
A second point of interest is that God brings him up with the blood of the eternal covenant. In the central argument of Hebrews, Jesus as high priest passes through the heavens. Here we have a more traditional image of God raising Jesus from the dead with an allusion to the priestly function explored so extensively in the earlier part of the sermon.
13:21 ... equip you with every good deed to do His will, doing in you what is pleasing before Him through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.
The word "equip" here is the same used in 11:3 of the creation--"were formed." There seems to be the sense of God working "you," plural, into what He wants it to be. And what God wants the church to be is a body of people who do good things in the world, following God's will.
God equips the audience to do His will through Jesus Christ. Although it is possible that the glory here goes to Jesus Christ, it is more likely that the author understands the glory to go to God.
13:22 Now I exhort you, brothers, to endure this word of exhortation, for I have written you even briefly.
Acts 13:15 refers to a sermon Paul gives as a "word of exhortation." Accordingly, most have concluded that Hebrews was meant to be read as a sermon. The fact that it has no opening prescript like a letter supports this conclusion.
13:23 Know that our brother Timothy has been released, with whom I will see you if he should come quickly.
Although there were no doubt many other Timothys in the ancient world, it is easy to conclude that the Timothy in view here is the same Pauline co-worker. It is thus easy to see the author of Hebrews as someone who had been associated with Paul during Paul's ministry in some way, although we cannot be absolutely certain.
1 and 2 Timothy clearly associate Timothy with Ephesus in the twilight of Paul's ministry, but we cannot be certain that it was there that Timothy was imprisoned. And since Timothy must come to the location of the author, it would seem that he is in yet a different location still.
13:24 Greet all your leaders and all the saints. Those from Italy greet you.
It is quite interesting that the sermon of Hebrews does not actually address the leaders of this assembly at all. The audience of the sermon is told to greet its own leaders and other saints who are presumably at the same general location. This makes us wonder if Hebrews was sent either to a specific assembly in a location with multiple assemblies. Or, perhaps more likely, the sermon is sent to a collection of assemblies with certain leaders in common.
The mention of "those from Italy" is taken by a significant number to indicate that Hebrews was sent to Rome. The word for "from" more often signifies being "away from." Those who greet the audience would thus be individuals originally from Italy sending their greetings back to Italy, the destination of the sermon/letter.
Further support for this hypothesis is the fact that we know of specific instances of persecution at Rome that would fit the allusions scattered throughou the sermon. We obviously do not know who these individuals "from Italy" were, although some have suggested Priscilla and Aquila as possible candidates. The fact that the author may be somewhere near Ephesus would add some small evidence to this suggestion.
13:25 Grace be with you all.
The letter ends with part of one of Paul's standard greetings. The author wishes God's favor on all who will hear the sermon.
5 Infants Baptized Sunday at College Wesleyan...
... well, actually the words Pastor Deneff used were, "I dedicate you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit." But he sprinkled them with water each time and the admonition he gave was practically the same as what you would give to the parents of a child being baptized. The difference between what we did and an infant baptism was one word!
Pastor Judy even hinted that there was something sacramental to the action! Dedication, the eighth sacrament!
So here were some of the thoughts going through my head.
1. Did he give them the option to call it a baptism instead of a dedication, if they preferred? Shame on him if he didn't.
2. Does God view it as a baptism? I have a suspicion he did.
3. Will these children be baptized again? Probably, if they stay Wesleyan.
4. Should they be baptized again? Not sure, especially since he used the word dedicate. I personally don't think God cares much one way or another.
5. Most Wesleyans are Philistines. OK, not nice, but that was one of the thoughts that went through my head. Infant baptism has been the practice of Christianity from about the time we voted in the Trinity to Luther, Calvin, and Wesley--yes, they all baptized infants. Most Wesleyans haven't a clue where they came from or why they think the way they do.
6. Did the New Testament church baptize infants? Not sure. The baptisms in the NT aren't of people who were born into Christian families, so there is hardly any relevant data. We have talk of whole households being baptized in Acts, which I have a hunch at least meant children down to a very young age even before "accountability."
Like it or not, the ancient world was a group culture and the father's decision would more often than not have been the decision for the whole family. We are individualists; they weren't.
1 Corinthians 7 says that the children of an intact marriage in which one spouse is a believer are holy. That means they were "in" whether they were baptized or not.
7. Did Paul think unholy children would be destroyed on the Day of the Lord? Strangely, I found myself thinking that he might very well think that, even though we as Christians today rightly do not. He doesn't mention hell in any of his writings (there are only a couple allusions to the judgment of the dead, one in 2 Timothy 2), so I'm not suggesting he thought they would go to hell.
This led my mind off on a hermeneutical tangent. Paul's writings--Scripture per se--have nothing to say about hell. What, then, if Paul himself didn't have any understanding of hell? It is not Paul himself who is inspired, as if every thought he ever had was Scripture. It is presumably what made it to the biblical page that was inspired, and nothing on this subject made it to the page from him.
Yet does some of the rationale behind what Paul wrote--that didn't make it to the biblical page--have to be inspired as well? In other words, what if Paul writes something that is inspired on the page but he writes it because of uninspired reasoning in his head? Is that possible?
In fact, the point of commonality between the Christian understanding of texts and Paul's original understanding of his texts is the text itself. Is it the Christian understanding of those texts that is ultimately most inspired for us more than Paul's surrounding thoughts?
8. How necessary would Paul have seen baptism of infants for their salvation?
Not sure. I wonder if it wouldn't have been as essential to him as it is to us.
Augustine had a highly developed sense of original sin and infant baptism for him took care of the sin of Adam. I highly doubt Paul would have thought anything of the sort. It is not without reason that Augustine is sometimes called the "first modern man" for his rather individualistic focus.
I suspect sin for Paul was much more general and corporate in focus and much less individualistic. We note that words like forgiveness and repentance barely even appear in Paul's writings. Baptism for him, I think, was not about some mathematical obligation regarding atonement but primarily about incorporation into Christ and death to the power of Sin written large.
I personally prefer infant baptism because it is the strongest way of saying "This child is holy. This child belongs to the people of God." And it does. I personally would go against church tradition and let all the children of the congregation take communion, if it were up to me (and it isn't). On this one I do feel confident that I know what the New Testament church did.
There are people out there who would have gone to be with the Lord at every moment of their existence. They would have as children, and they confessed faith the very first moment they realized they needed to. They could have died at any moment of their life and been "saved."
So why symbolically locate them outside the church for their first years. They are in!
Pastor Judy even hinted that there was something sacramental to the action! Dedication, the eighth sacrament!
So here were some of the thoughts going through my head.
1. Did he give them the option to call it a baptism instead of a dedication, if they preferred? Shame on him if he didn't.
2. Does God view it as a baptism? I have a suspicion he did.
3. Will these children be baptized again? Probably, if they stay Wesleyan.
4. Should they be baptized again? Not sure, especially since he used the word dedicate. I personally don't think God cares much one way or another.
5. Most Wesleyans are Philistines. OK, not nice, but that was one of the thoughts that went through my head. Infant baptism has been the practice of Christianity from about the time we voted in the Trinity to Luther, Calvin, and Wesley--yes, they all baptized infants. Most Wesleyans haven't a clue where they came from or why they think the way they do.
6. Did the New Testament church baptize infants? Not sure. The baptisms in the NT aren't of people who were born into Christian families, so there is hardly any relevant data. We have talk of whole households being baptized in Acts, which I have a hunch at least meant children down to a very young age even before "accountability."
Like it or not, the ancient world was a group culture and the father's decision would more often than not have been the decision for the whole family. We are individualists; they weren't.
1 Corinthians 7 says that the children of an intact marriage in which one spouse is a believer are holy. That means they were "in" whether they were baptized or not.
7. Did Paul think unholy children would be destroyed on the Day of the Lord? Strangely, I found myself thinking that he might very well think that, even though we as Christians today rightly do not. He doesn't mention hell in any of his writings (there are only a couple allusions to the judgment of the dead, one in 2 Timothy 2), so I'm not suggesting he thought they would go to hell.
This led my mind off on a hermeneutical tangent. Paul's writings--Scripture per se--have nothing to say about hell. What, then, if Paul himself didn't have any understanding of hell? It is not Paul himself who is inspired, as if every thought he ever had was Scripture. It is presumably what made it to the biblical page that was inspired, and nothing on this subject made it to the page from him.
Yet does some of the rationale behind what Paul wrote--that didn't make it to the biblical page--have to be inspired as well? In other words, what if Paul writes something that is inspired on the page but he writes it because of uninspired reasoning in his head? Is that possible?
In fact, the point of commonality between the Christian understanding of texts and Paul's original understanding of his texts is the text itself. Is it the Christian understanding of those texts that is ultimately most inspired for us more than Paul's surrounding thoughts?
8. How necessary would Paul have seen baptism of infants for their salvation?
Not sure. I wonder if it wouldn't have been as essential to him as it is to us.
Augustine had a highly developed sense of original sin and infant baptism for him took care of the sin of Adam. I highly doubt Paul would have thought anything of the sort. It is not without reason that Augustine is sometimes called the "first modern man" for his rather individualistic focus.
I suspect sin for Paul was much more general and corporate in focus and much less individualistic. We note that words like forgiveness and repentance barely even appear in Paul's writings. Baptism for him, I think, was not about some mathematical obligation regarding atonement but primarily about incorporation into Christ and death to the power of Sin written large.
I personally prefer infant baptism because it is the strongest way of saying "This child is holy. This child belongs to the people of God." And it does. I personally would go against church tradition and let all the children of the congregation take communion, if it were up to me (and it isn't). On this one I do feel confident that I know what the New Testament church did.
There are people out there who would have gone to be with the Lord at every moment of their existence. They would have as children, and they confessed faith the very first moment they realized they needed to. They could have died at any moment of their life and been "saved."
So why symbolically locate them outside the church for their first years. They are in!
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Explanatory Notes: Hebrews 13:9-16
Second installment in honor of Tisha B'Av, the 9th of Av commemorating the Fall of Jerusalem in AD70.
_______
13:9 Do not be carried away with various strange teachings. For it is good for the heart to be established by grace, not with foods by which those who used to walk were not benefited.
The way the author moves from his general statement about "strange teachings" to this cryptic comment about foods leads us to think the teachings in mind were all too well known to the author and original audience. The author thus is not simply encouraging the audience to avoid misguided teaching. They both know the specific teaching he has in mind.
The instruction that unfolds has to do with 1) foods that 2) establish the heart, 3) of an atoning sort. Hebrews thus would not refer to keeping food laws, for the image is of foods that are thought to have a positive effect, not foods to avoid. The author does not refer to the Eucharist, for he goes on to contrast "our" altar from the altar in question, and the contrast is surely with some alternative Jewish practice rather than some alternative Christian one.
Certainly participation in the temple would fit the bill, if the temple were still standing. But this suggestion would only work well if the audience was located in Jerusalem, which was of course the prevalent view throughout much of Christian history, although very few would suggest this destination today.
So when we ask what sort of food a Diaspora Jew might eat and think to have atoning value, our minds surely have to turn to the category of "various and strange." And here we suggest that, after the temple's destruction, we can easily imagine that various synagogue meals might have acquired some surrogate sense for the now absent sacrifices of the temple. Unfortunately, we are forced to speculate on what exactly these foods might have been.
The mention of grace in contrast to foods echoes the familiar Pauline teaching on grace as the path to justification. Grace for Hebrews here is surely a reference to Christ's all sufficient sacrifice. The path to a "perfected conscience," an established heart, is through the offering of Christ rather than through cultic meals.
Some have suggested that this verse provides the key to understanding the entire situation behind Hebrews, that certain Jewish Christians are troubled over atonement because they are losing connection with synagogue mediated access to the temple. But this admonition would surely be anticlimactic if it were, finally, what the whole letter was about. It seems more likely that it is related to the central problem of the sermon rather than the central issue. A "conservative" Christian audience dealing more broadly with the loss of the temple would seem to fit the bill.
13:10 We have an altar from which those who serve the tent do not have authority to eat.
The altar in question is probably Christ's death, metaphorically speaking. Levitical priests do not have authority to eat from it, that is, unless they confess that Jesus is the Son of God. It is of course possible that Hebrews alludes to the Eucharist here, but it is difficult to know whether Christians thought of it in such terms at this time.
The mention of the "tent" rather than the temple fits with the author's more theoretical argument throughout Hebrews based on the wilderness tabernacle. Yet if he were referring to literal priests in the literal temple, surely an explicit reference would be appropriate here. Nor should we suppose that you could find Levites very easily in the Diaspora.
In the end, such a continued metaphorical reference at this point--when a concrete practice is in view--points more to a time after the temple was destroyed than before. Would it make sense to liken someone in the Diaspora to "one who has authority to serve the tent" when the temple was still fully operational? Or would one likely think of some part of local Jewish worship "the tent" prior to the temple's destruction?
13:11 For [when we think] of the animals whose blood is brought into the Holies for sin by the high priest, their bodies are burned outside the camp.
As he has done more than once, the author suddenly switches to a different cultic metaphor, this time that of the Day of Atonement when the carcasses of sacrificial animals were taken outside the wilderness camp.
13:12 Therefore, Jesus also suffered outside the gate so that he might sanctify the people with his own blood.
Now he makes explicit that the atonement provided through Jesus is the grace and altar to which he has alluded. Again, the incredible flexibility of the author's metaphors comes out. Earlier in Hebrews, Christ's entrance into heaven was metaphorically understood as the entrance of the high priest into the Holy of Holies. In this image, Christ's suffering outside the city wall is likened to taking the carcasses of the dead animals from the Day of Atonement outside the camp.
It is difficult for us to get into the mind of the ancients when it comes to purification and the sanctification or "making holy" of something. Indeed, we suspect that the dynamics of purity for them operated on a less than fully conscious level. Blood was understood somehow to make something unclean clean. Taking the carcasses outside the gate somehow transferred the impurity outside the camp.
Sanctification in Hebrews carries these sorts of connotations. Something unclean cannot belong to God, and sin makes unclean. To sanctify, to make holy and clean, thus requires the purification of sins, their cleansing. Such cleansing typically requires blood to be shed and a transference of impurity away from the sinner.
13:13 Therefore, let us go to him outside the camp, bearing his disgrace.
The author then turns the normal understanding of purity and purification on its head, in keeping with the way he has made Christ into the type of which the earthly cultus was the antitype. Sanctification is to be found outside the gate in the wilderness not inside the camp.
The point for the audience is to bear the disgrace of their identity with Christ as in fact a matter of honor. They might of course experience such disgrace from the Jewish communities where the "strange teachings" are being propagated. However, if Hebrews was written in the wake of the temple's destruction, a Christian community in Rome would experience great shame by association with the Jews being paraded through the streets of Rome in triumph. This would particularly be true of a "conservative" Christian community such as the audience of Hebrews would seem to have been.
13:14 For here we do not have a city that remains, but we are seeking one that is coming.
The association of the disgrace the author has in mind with a city supports this reading. The "camp" that the author has in mind is a city, and the only city that makes sense of the camp metaphor is Jerusalem. The statement that we do not have a city that remains here on earth would have particular meaning in the wake of Jerusalem's destruction, and would support the idea that Hebrews is meant in part to console its audience in the wake of the temple's destruction.
The mention of a city that is coming reminds us of 11:13-16 where the author talks about a coming city and country. 13:14 gives a strong argument that these were also allusions to Jerusalem and the Jewish state. The city that is coming is thus a heavenly city, the heavenly Jerusalem (cf. 12:22), not an earthly one.
13:15-16 Therefore, let us also offer up through him continually a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips confessing His name. And do not forget good deeds and fellowship, for God is very pleased with sacrifices of this sort.
The author thus, like Paul before him, applies cultic imagery to the daily activities of the people of God. We do offer sacrifices to God, but they are sacrifices of praise that confess our allegience to God. We offer sacrifices of good deeds and of fellowship with one another. These are sacrifices that bring God's favor and pleasure. Earthly sacrifices and their "Levitical" surrogates, on the other hand, are no longer appropriate and were never truly effective.
_______
13:9 Do not be carried away with various strange teachings. For it is good for the heart to be established by grace, not with foods by which those who used to walk were not benefited.
The way the author moves from his general statement about "strange teachings" to this cryptic comment about foods leads us to think the teachings in mind were all too well known to the author and original audience. The author thus is not simply encouraging the audience to avoid misguided teaching. They both know the specific teaching he has in mind.
The instruction that unfolds has to do with 1) foods that 2) establish the heart, 3) of an atoning sort. Hebrews thus would not refer to keeping food laws, for the image is of foods that are thought to have a positive effect, not foods to avoid. The author does not refer to the Eucharist, for he goes on to contrast "our" altar from the altar in question, and the contrast is surely with some alternative Jewish practice rather than some alternative Christian one.
Certainly participation in the temple would fit the bill, if the temple were still standing. But this suggestion would only work well if the audience was located in Jerusalem, which was of course the prevalent view throughout much of Christian history, although very few would suggest this destination today.
So when we ask what sort of food a Diaspora Jew might eat and think to have atoning value, our minds surely have to turn to the category of "various and strange." And here we suggest that, after the temple's destruction, we can easily imagine that various synagogue meals might have acquired some surrogate sense for the now absent sacrifices of the temple. Unfortunately, we are forced to speculate on what exactly these foods might have been.
The mention of grace in contrast to foods echoes the familiar Pauline teaching on grace as the path to justification. Grace for Hebrews here is surely a reference to Christ's all sufficient sacrifice. The path to a "perfected conscience," an established heart, is through the offering of Christ rather than through cultic meals.
Some have suggested that this verse provides the key to understanding the entire situation behind Hebrews, that certain Jewish Christians are troubled over atonement because they are losing connection with synagogue mediated access to the temple. But this admonition would surely be anticlimactic if it were, finally, what the whole letter was about. It seems more likely that it is related to the central problem of the sermon rather than the central issue. A "conservative" Christian audience dealing more broadly with the loss of the temple would seem to fit the bill.
13:10 We have an altar from which those who serve the tent do not have authority to eat.
The altar in question is probably Christ's death, metaphorically speaking. Levitical priests do not have authority to eat from it, that is, unless they confess that Jesus is the Son of God. It is of course possible that Hebrews alludes to the Eucharist here, but it is difficult to know whether Christians thought of it in such terms at this time.
The mention of the "tent" rather than the temple fits with the author's more theoretical argument throughout Hebrews based on the wilderness tabernacle. Yet if he were referring to literal priests in the literal temple, surely an explicit reference would be appropriate here. Nor should we suppose that you could find Levites very easily in the Diaspora.
In the end, such a continued metaphorical reference at this point--when a concrete practice is in view--points more to a time after the temple was destroyed than before. Would it make sense to liken someone in the Diaspora to "one who has authority to serve the tent" when the temple was still fully operational? Or would one likely think of some part of local Jewish worship "the tent" prior to the temple's destruction?
13:11 For [when we think] of the animals whose blood is brought into the Holies for sin by the high priest, their bodies are burned outside the camp.
As he has done more than once, the author suddenly switches to a different cultic metaphor, this time that of the Day of Atonement when the carcasses of sacrificial animals were taken outside the wilderness camp.
13:12 Therefore, Jesus also suffered outside the gate so that he might sanctify the people with his own blood.
Now he makes explicit that the atonement provided through Jesus is the grace and altar to which he has alluded. Again, the incredible flexibility of the author's metaphors comes out. Earlier in Hebrews, Christ's entrance into heaven was metaphorically understood as the entrance of the high priest into the Holy of Holies. In this image, Christ's suffering outside the city wall is likened to taking the carcasses of the dead animals from the Day of Atonement outside the camp.
It is difficult for us to get into the mind of the ancients when it comes to purification and the sanctification or "making holy" of something. Indeed, we suspect that the dynamics of purity for them operated on a less than fully conscious level. Blood was understood somehow to make something unclean clean. Taking the carcasses outside the gate somehow transferred the impurity outside the camp.
Sanctification in Hebrews carries these sorts of connotations. Something unclean cannot belong to God, and sin makes unclean. To sanctify, to make holy and clean, thus requires the purification of sins, their cleansing. Such cleansing typically requires blood to be shed and a transference of impurity away from the sinner.
13:13 Therefore, let us go to him outside the camp, bearing his disgrace.
The author then turns the normal understanding of purity and purification on its head, in keeping with the way he has made Christ into the type of which the earthly cultus was the antitype. Sanctification is to be found outside the gate in the wilderness not inside the camp.
The point for the audience is to bear the disgrace of their identity with Christ as in fact a matter of honor. They might of course experience such disgrace from the Jewish communities where the "strange teachings" are being propagated. However, if Hebrews was written in the wake of the temple's destruction, a Christian community in Rome would experience great shame by association with the Jews being paraded through the streets of Rome in triumph. This would particularly be true of a "conservative" Christian community such as the audience of Hebrews would seem to have been.
13:14 For here we do not have a city that remains, but we are seeking one that is coming.
The association of the disgrace the author has in mind with a city supports this reading. The "camp" that the author has in mind is a city, and the only city that makes sense of the camp metaphor is Jerusalem. The statement that we do not have a city that remains here on earth would have particular meaning in the wake of Jerusalem's destruction, and would support the idea that Hebrews is meant in part to console its audience in the wake of the temple's destruction.
The mention of a city that is coming reminds us of 11:13-16 where the author talks about a coming city and country. 13:14 gives a strong argument that these were also allusions to Jerusalem and the Jewish state. The city that is coming is thus a heavenly city, the heavenly Jerusalem (cf. 12:22), not an earthly one.
13:15-16 Therefore, let us also offer up through him continually a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips confessing His name. And do not forget good deeds and fellowship, for God is very pleased with sacrifices of this sort.
The author thus, like Paul before him, applies cultic imagery to the daily activities of the people of God. We do offer sacrifices to God, but they are sacrifices of praise that confess our allegience to God. We offer sacrifices of good deeds and of fellowship with one another. These are sacrifices that bring God's favor and pleasure. Earthly sacrifices and their "Levitical" surrogates, on the other hand, are no longer appropriate and were never truly effective.
Tonight Begins Tisha B'Av/Explanatory Notes: Heb. 13
Thanks to Jim Davila at Paleojudaica for pointing out that Tisha B'Av begins at sundown tonight (Davila teaches at St. Andrews and is known to host great conferences). Av is the 5th month of the Jewish year, which falls in July/August. Tisha is the 9th day. The Jewish day of course goes from sundown to sundown, following the pattern of creation in Genesis 1.
This is the day that Jews fast in memory of the Fall of Jerusalem in AD70. Gabrielle Gelardini has argued in a rather large and expensive monograph in German that Hebrews was in fact a Christian synagogue homily for this day. It is an intriguing hypothesis, although she hasn't convinced me yet.
So to commemorate the day, I thought I would do my explanatory notes on chapter 13 of Hebrews, the chapter with the clearest potential allusion to the destruction of Jerusalem. Yes, I haven't forgot that I stopped my Hebrews explanatory notes back in chapter 10. I'll finish Hebrews eventually!
Then after the explanatory notes on Hebrews 13, I'll follow up with my "Quotes, Allusions, and Echoes" discussion of the chapter. This will take about 4 posts, I'm afraid. Look for the second half of Hurtado on Monday.
__________
13:1 Let brotherly love continue.
The first 12 chapters of Hebrews have largely fit into the pattern of a sermon or speech. Now as we begin Hebrews 13, the format changes more into the shape of a letter closing. Hebrews is thus a "sent sermon." The speculation that chapter 13 was not originally attached to the rest of Hebrews should be rejected as having no basis except the slight shift of genre. The themes of chapter 13 relate well to the argument that has preceded.
Hebrews 13 likely indicates that the author has at least some knowledge of the situation of the audience. His encouragement for them to love one another is of course a standard Christian exhortation. Yet we do have some hints later in the chapter of dissension between the church and its leaders, possibly over issues of atonement.
13:2 Do not forget hospitality, for some in their hospitality have entertained angels without knowing it.
Hospitality was a major virtue of the ancient world, one that the Western world is prone to underestimate. Travel was often dangerous, and one looked to those with whom one had something in common for safety. The stories of Sodom and Gomorrah, as well as the Levite of Judges 19, are primarily about the wickedness of cities that were not hospitable to travellers. Meanwhile, Abraham welcomed the very same angels that Sodom and Gomorrah tried to violate, a recognized sign of his virtue.
It is very possible that the author of Hebrews had Abraham in mind as he mentions entertaining angels without knowing it. It is important to recognize that part of Abraham's virtue in Genesis 18 is that he welcomes the angels as complete strangers. He does not know that they are angels when he welcomes them.
A Greco-Roman audience might also think of the myth of Baucis and Philemon at this point, a story to which Acts 14:11-13 may also allude. In this story, the gods Zeus and Hermes secretly come to earth and test the hospitality of its inhabitants. They only find one elderly couple willing to take them in, so they destroy the rest of those in the region with a flood.
13:3 Remember the prisoners as if you were also bound with them, those who are undergoing evil, since you are also in the body.
13:23 mentions that Timothy has just been released from prison. It is thus possible that the author has individuals at his location in mind.
Of course those who date Hebrews to the early persecution of Christians under Nero around AD64-65 might see a possible reference here to individuals imprisoned at the beginning of that crisis. If there was a significant persecution under Domitian in the early 90s--a conclusion now highly questioned in some circles--it presents another possible time of persecution for those who as Christians did not wish to pay Domitian's "Jewish tax" (fiscus Judaicus) but were required because of their proximity to Judaism.
If, on the other hand, Hebrews dates to the period just after the Roman celebration of victory over the Jews, the "triumph" of AD71, we can at least speculate that some Christian Jews became enmeshed in that crisis. It is quite possible that some of those brought to Rome from Jersualem as prisoners were Christians (cf. Simon the Zealot), as well as that it became a difficult time for Jews who were "noticed" by the Roman world. The nature of the Christian mission, it would seem, lent itself to being noticed.
The solidarity of Christian with Christian is again emphasized here. Love mourns with those who mourn. The mention to being "in the body" reminds us of the fundmental dualism of Hebrews between body and spirit. Of all the New Testament writings, Hebrews comes closest to the Platonic sense that the body is the prison house of the soul.
13:4 Marriage is honorable in all its aspects as is an undefiled bed. For God will judge adulterers and those who visit prostitutes.
Hebrews' loose collection of admonitions continues with a prohibition of sexual sin. As much as the author may see the law taken away by Christ, like Paul he retains its fundamental sexual ethic. We are reminded that sexual struggle is common wherever you go as one of the strongest human drives.
An adulterer in the Mediterranean world was either a man who shamed another man by sleeping with his wife or a woman who shamed her husband by sleeping with another man. Adultery was apparently not used to refer to a husband sleeping with a woman other than his wife who was not married.
The author thus uses another word to condemn those who would visit a prostitute, although it is possible we should take the word as a reference to other forms of sexual immorality in general (those condemned by Leviticus 18). These sorts of things "defile" the marriage bed.
We should note that there is no trace of condemnation for marriage here but a strong affirmation of it. We hear from 1 Timothy that some Christians of the late first century did forbid marriage. Indeed, while Paul certainly does not condemn marriage in 1 Corinthians 7, he does not consider it the best option at that time.
13:5a Let your way of life be free of the love of money and be content with what you have.
Hebrews does not directly address the problem of travelling Christian teachers who made their fortune teaching wisdom. However, this issue seems to have surfaced increasingly in the second half of the century. It is possible, although we cannot prove it, that this problem is already in mind here.
At the same time, the verses that follow may indicate that some in the audience were also facing material difficulty. We remember that 10:34 mentions an earlier time (perhaps under Claudius in AD49 or, as we think more likely, under Nero in AD64-65) when the audience lost possessions and perhaps property under persecution. It seems quite possible that they were facing a similar situation at the time of writing or at least anticipated facing one.
13:5b For He himself has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you,"
The author substantiates his admonition not to be focused on possessions with this very Christian sense that God will provide in times of need. The quotation is a somewhat unique combination of Deuteronomy 31:8, Joshua 1:5, and possibly Genesis 28:15. The only other known place where this occurs is in the writing of Philo, a Jew from Alexandria. This fact plays into the argument of those who think the author of Hebrews was a Jew from Alexandria such as Apollos or that the author was at least acquainted with Alexandrian Jewish thought.
13:6 ... so that we are bold to say, "The Lord is my help and I will not be afraid. What will a mortal do to me?"
The train of thought once again connects concern for material possessions to a need for God's help. Now we see this concern for material possessions in the light of potential persecution (quoting Psalm 118:6). The context of Psalm 118 indeed could relate well to persecution in which one's enemies surround you. This would be highly appropriate for any of the times we have been discussing, that of the Neronic persecution, the triumph of Rome over Jerusalem, or hard times under the reign of Domitian.
Psalm 118 provided the early Christians with more than one proof text in relation to Jesus. These include "the stone that the builders rejected" (118:22) and "Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord" (118:26). It is thus reasonable to think that the author of Hebrews saw this psalm to indicate that persecution would accompany the coming of the Christ, a fact he applies to the audience's current situation.
13:7 Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Looking on the outcome of their conduct, imitate their faith.
The most natural reading of this verse sees a reference to the martyrdom of some former leaders of the community. As in Hebrews 11, the author urges the audience to look to their faith example and follow them. In their current persecution or anticipation of difficult times, they are to be willing to "shed blood" (12:4) and die for their faith as some former leaders did.
This statement as much as any in Hebrews points us away from the Neronic persecution to a later time such as following the destruction of Jerusalem. We know of no Jews, Christian or otherwise, dying when Claudius expelled certain Jews from Rome in AD49. On the other hand, many died in AD64-65. Indeed, it is quite possible that the author could include the deaths of Peter and Paul themselves in this comment.
13:8 Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today, and forever.
While some connect this statement to what follows in 13:9, it makes more sense to connect it with what has gone before. The same Jesus who modeled obedience for the audience (cf. 5:8; 12:2) in the past, is their help in the present, and will be there for them in the future. The constancy of Jesus remains as security for them throughout whatever crisis they might face.
This is the day that Jews fast in memory of the Fall of Jerusalem in AD70. Gabrielle Gelardini has argued in a rather large and expensive monograph in German that Hebrews was in fact a Christian synagogue homily for this day. It is an intriguing hypothesis, although she hasn't convinced me yet.
So to commemorate the day, I thought I would do my explanatory notes on chapter 13 of Hebrews, the chapter with the clearest potential allusion to the destruction of Jerusalem. Yes, I haven't forgot that I stopped my Hebrews explanatory notes back in chapter 10. I'll finish Hebrews eventually!
Then after the explanatory notes on Hebrews 13, I'll follow up with my "Quotes, Allusions, and Echoes" discussion of the chapter. This will take about 4 posts, I'm afraid. Look for the second half of Hurtado on Monday.
__________
13:1 Let brotherly love continue.
The first 12 chapters of Hebrews have largely fit into the pattern of a sermon or speech. Now as we begin Hebrews 13, the format changes more into the shape of a letter closing. Hebrews is thus a "sent sermon." The speculation that chapter 13 was not originally attached to the rest of Hebrews should be rejected as having no basis except the slight shift of genre. The themes of chapter 13 relate well to the argument that has preceded.
Hebrews 13 likely indicates that the author has at least some knowledge of the situation of the audience. His encouragement for them to love one another is of course a standard Christian exhortation. Yet we do have some hints later in the chapter of dissension between the church and its leaders, possibly over issues of atonement.
13:2 Do not forget hospitality, for some in their hospitality have entertained angels without knowing it.
Hospitality was a major virtue of the ancient world, one that the Western world is prone to underestimate. Travel was often dangerous, and one looked to those with whom one had something in common for safety. The stories of Sodom and Gomorrah, as well as the Levite of Judges 19, are primarily about the wickedness of cities that were not hospitable to travellers. Meanwhile, Abraham welcomed the very same angels that Sodom and Gomorrah tried to violate, a recognized sign of his virtue.
It is very possible that the author of Hebrews had Abraham in mind as he mentions entertaining angels without knowing it. It is important to recognize that part of Abraham's virtue in Genesis 18 is that he welcomes the angels as complete strangers. He does not know that they are angels when he welcomes them.
A Greco-Roman audience might also think of the myth of Baucis and Philemon at this point, a story to which Acts 14:11-13 may also allude. In this story, the gods Zeus and Hermes secretly come to earth and test the hospitality of its inhabitants. They only find one elderly couple willing to take them in, so they destroy the rest of those in the region with a flood.
13:3 Remember the prisoners as if you were also bound with them, those who are undergoing evil, since you are also in the body.
13:23 mentions that Timothy has just been released from prison. It is thus possible that the author has individuals at his location in mind.
Of course those who date Hebrews to the early persecution of Christians under Nero around AD64-65 might see a possible reference here to individuals imprisoned at the beginning of that crisis. If there was a significant persecution under Domitian in the early 90s--a conclusion now highly questioned in some circles--it presents another possible time of persecution for those who as Christians did not wish to pay Domitian's "Jewish tax" (fiscus Judaicus) but were required because of their proximity to Judaism.
If, on the other hand, Hebrews dates to the period just after the Roman celebration of victory over the Jews, the "triumph" of AD71, we can at least speculate that some Christian Jews became enmeshed in that crisis. It is quite possible that some of those brought to Rome from Jersualem as prisoners were Christians (cf. Simon the Zealot), as well as that it became a difficult time for Jews who were "noticed" by the Roman world. The nature of the Christian mission, it would seem, lent itself to being noticed.
The solidarity of Christian with Christian is again emphasized here. Love mourns with those who mourn. The mention to being "in the body" reminds us of the fundmental dualism of Hebrews between body and spirit. Of all the New Testament writings, Hebrews comes closest to the Platonic sense that the body is the prison house of the soul.
13:4 Marriage is honorable in all its aspects as is an undefiled bed. For God will judge adulterers and those who visit prostitutes.
Hebrews' loose collection of admonitions continues with a prohibition of sexual sin. As much as the author may see the law taken away by Christ, like Paul he retains its fundamental sexual ethic. We are reminded that sexual struggle is common wherever you go as one of the strongest human drives.
An adulterer in the Mediterranean world was either a man who shamed another man by sleeping with his wife or a woman who shamed her husband by sleeping with another man. Adultery was apparently not used to refer to a husband sleeping with a woman other than his wife who was not married.
The author thus uses another word to condemn those who would visit a prostitute, although it is possible we should take the word as a reference to other forms of sexual immorality in general (those condemned by Leviticus 18). These sorts of things "defile" the marriage bed.
We should note that there is no trace of condemnation for marriage here but a strong affirmation of it. We hear from 1 Timothy that some Christians of the late first century did forbid marriage. Indeed, while Paul certainly does not condemn marriage in 1 Corinthians 7, he does not consider it the best option at that time.
13:5a Let your way of life be free of the love of money and be content with what you have.
Hebrews does not directly address the problem of travelling Christian teachers who made their fortune teaching wisdom. However, this issue seems to have surfaced increasingly in the second half of the century. It is possible, although we cannot prove it, that this problem is already in mind here.
At the same time, the verses that follow may indicate that some in the audience were also facing material difficulty. We remember that 10:34 mentions an earlier time (perhaps under Claudius in AD49 or, as we think more likely, under Nero in AD64-65) when the audience lost possessions and perhaps property under persecution. It seems quite possible that they were facing a similar situation at the time of writing or at least anticipated facing one.
13:5b For He himself has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you,"
The author substantiates his admonition not to be focused on possessions with this very Christian sense that God will provide in times of need. The quotation is a somewhat unique combination of Deuteronomy 31:8, Joshua 1:5, and possibly Genesis 28:15. The only other known place where this occurs is in the writing of Philo, a Jew from Alexandria. This fact plays into the argument of those who think the author of Hebrews was a Jew from Alexandria such as Apollos or that the author was at least acquainted with Alexandrian Jewish thought.
13:6 ... so that we are bold to say, "The Lord is my help and I will not be afraid. What will a mortal do to me?"
The train of thought once again connects concern for material possessions to a need for God's help. Now we see this concern for material possessions in the light of potential persecution (quoting Psalm 118:6). The context of Psalm 118 indeed could relate well to persecution in which one's enemies surround you. This would be highly appropriate for any of the times we have been discussing, that of the Neronic persecution, the triumph of Rome over Jerusalem, or hard times under the reign of Domitian.
Psalm 118 provided the early Christians with more than one proof text in relation to Jesus. These include "the stone that the builders rejected" (118:22) and "Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord" (118:26). It is thus reasonable to think that the author of Hebrews saw this psalm to indicate that persecution would accompany the coming of the Christ, a fact he applies to the audience's current situation.
13:7 Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Looking on the outcome of their conduct, imitate their faith.
The most natural reading of this verse sees a reference to the martyrdom of some former leaders of the community. As in Hebrews 11, the author urges the audience to look to their faith example and follow them. In their current persecution or anticipation of difficult times, they are to be willing to "shed blood" (12:4) and die for their faith as some former leaders did.
This statement as much as any in Hebrews points us away from the Neronic persecution to a later time such as following the destruction of Jerusalem. We know of no Jews, Christian or otherwise, dying when Claudius expelled certain Jews from Rome in AD49. On the other hand, many died in AD64-65. Indeed, it is quite possible that the author could include the deaths of Peter and Paul themselves in this comment.
13:8 Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today, and forever.
While some connect this statement to what follows in 13:9, it makes more sense to connect it with what has gone before. The same Jesus who modeled obedience for the audience (cf. 5:8; 12:2) in the past, is their help in the present, and will be there for them in the future. The constancy of Jesus remains as security for them throughout whatever crisis they might face.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Friday Review: Hurtado 8, Chapter 5, Part 1
Chapter 5 of Larry Hurtado's, Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity, is a monster 88 pages. It is called "Jesus Books" and principally deals with the Synoptic gospels. I wonder if the chapter on Q started out as part of this chapter. And I wonder if this chapter was written before some material we've already read.
Anyway, the first part of the chapter that I will briefly review today (259-82) deals mainly with the shared features of the Synoptics and their likely genre.
Introduction
Hurtado begins with a general discussion of "Jesus books," a term he uses so that he does not presume any conclusions from the start on exactly what a gospel might be, for example. H prefers to call Q a "sayings collection" rather than a gospel. Further, he notes that the Gospel of Thomas lacks even the narrative structure of Q. He will cover second century non-canonical works like the Protoevangelium of James, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, or the Gospel of Peter in a later chapter, as he will John.
Shared Features of Canonical Gospels
The second part of the chapter then looks at shared features of the canonical gospels, which he considers to be earlier than any of the non-canonical gospels mentioned above. They all share a recognizably similar narrative framework. In all of them (as in Q), Jesus is "paradigmatic and uniquely authoritative in his teachings and actions" (263). Jesus is the key issue of the gospels and the polarizing force. All four gospels agree in the basic honorific terms they use of him.
One of H's strong contributions in this part of the chapter is to point out the extent to which the four gospels locate Jesus in specific historical, cultural, and geographical settings, something Hurtado refers to as "local color" (265-66). "He is not some timeless symbol, not a mythical figure of a 'once upon a time,' but instead very specifically a Jew whose life and activities are geographically and chronologically located in a particular place and period of Jewish history in Roman Judea" (266). By contrast, "From Thomas we would not even know that Jesus was Jewish and that his activities were in Roman Judea!" (267).
Finally, all the canonical gospels point to a larger narrative world that reaches back to the Old Testament and look forward to eschatological events. It is this aspect that might be considered "mythic," although in the nuanced sense of scholarship, not the popular but uninformed "it didn't happened and isn't true" sense (that's my targum on n. 20, p. 269).
Literary Genre
The final part of the chapter I want to summarize today examines the question of the gospels' genres in concentric circles--first as early Christian literature, then in relation to Jewish literature, and finally in relation to Greco-Roman literature.
H thinks the gospels reflect in some sense the form of early Christian proclamation. He is thus not surprised that Q had a narrative structure too. I want to say again that the claim that Q had a narrative structure is plausible but somewhat suspicious. After all, Q is an abstraction largely from a Lukan order of material, and Luke has a narrative structure. I'm sure this has all been addressed, but how do we know that the supposed narrative structure of Q is not to a large extent a function of Luke's narrative structure?
Nevertheless, Hurtado considers Mark "a significant development in literary genre" (272). It and the other gospels represent "the 'literaturization' of prior oral discourse and written expressions about Jesus" (here building on David Aune's work). Meanwhile, each gospel is a dstinctive literary work with its own emphases. They were a new kind of Christian writing (274).
Secondly, there is nothing comparable in rabbinic literature, a fact that seems christologically significant. A rabbinic work like Pirke Aboth includes the sayings of many different rabbis. But none of them are treated as inerrant or uniquely authoritative, and this collection does not center on one rabbi in particular. "[T]he composition of the canonical Gospels, which he [Richard Burridge] properly fits within the genre of ancient biographical writings ..., represented 'an enormous christological and theological claim'" (275).
Hurtado does mention Philo's biographies of Abraham, Moses, and Joseph, as well as Josephus' autobiography. But these biographies follow the "Greek notion of biography as the presentation of characters who are exemplary of the qualities prized by those for whom one writes" (276). The Gospels, however, do not treat Jesus as "a paragon of general virtues" (277). Jesus is rather "the unique envoy of God who announces and brings the kingdom of God in his own person and actions in an unparalleled way" (277).
Finally, Hurtado considers the Roman-Era literary environment. While he respects those who have argued that the gospels are a unique genre ultimately incomparable to the Greco-Roman bios (e.g., Fitzmeyer), H thinks it is still the best way to categorize them. "To associate a writing with this or that genre does not mean that it is the same in all respects as other examples of that genre" (279). The question is whether a reader would come to the gospels with certain expectations because they would categorize it, roughly speaking, in that way.
Hurtado's placement of the gospels in the biography category comes because he believes they demonstrate certain expectations of the genre, particularly Luke. He does not at this point, at least to me, seem to give many specific examples. For Mark, for example, he mentions a disposition on Mark's part to present Jesus in heroic terms (281).
I have no reason to question the current consensus that places at least Matthew, Mark, and John in the biography category (Luke-Acts it seems to me, is more like history). But I am not sure at this point that it affects my interpretation. In general I think ancient history writers or biographers were more interested in advancing particular truths than in historical certitude, despite frequently strong protests to giving the real scoop (I find Josephus' bombastic claims comical). Thucydides actually apologizes for not being more sensational like other historians. And yet he doesn't bat an eye to tell us that he has made up some of the speeches in his account.
This pattern could impact how we took the gospels and Acts, if we concluded that it applied.
More tomorrow, hopefully...
Anyway, the first part of the chapter that I will briefly review today (259-82) deals mainly with the shared features of the Synoptics and their likely genre.
Introduction
Hurtado begins with a general discussion of "Jesus books," a term he uses so that he does not presume any conclusions from the start on exactly what a gospel might be, for example. H prefers to call Q a "sayings collection" rather than a gospel. Further, he notes that the Gospel of Thomas lacks even the narrative structure of Q. He will cover second century non-canonical works like the Protoevangelium of James, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, or the Gospel of Peter in a later chapter, as he will John.
Shared Features of Canonical Gospels
The second part of the chapter then looks at shared features of the canonical gospels, which he considers to be earlier than any of the non-canonical gospels mentioned above. They all share a recognizably similar narrative framework. In all of them (as in Q), Jesus is "paradigmatic and uniquely authoritative in his teachings and actions" (263). Jesus is the key issue of the gospels and the polarizing force. All four gospels agree in the basic honorific terms they use of him.
One of H's strong contributions in this part of the chapter is to point out the extent to which the four gospels locate Jesus in specific historical, cultural, and geographical settings, something Hurtado refers to as "local color" (265-66). "He is not some timeless symbol, not a mythical figure of a 'once upon a time,' but instead very specifically a Jew whose life and activities are geographically and chronologically located in a particular place and period of Jewish history in Roman Judea" (266). By contrast, "From Thomas we would not even know that Jesus was Jewish and that his activities were in Roman Judea!" (267).
Finally, all the canonical gospels point to a larger narrative world that reaches back to the Old Testament and look forward to eschatological events. It is this aspect that might be considered "mythic," although in the nuanced sense of scholarship, not the popular but uninformed "it didn't happened and isn't true" sense (that's my targum on n. 20, p. 269).
Literary Genre
The final part of the chapter I want to summarize today examines the question of the gospels' genres in concentric circles--first as early Christian literature, then in relation to Jewish literature, and finally in relation to Greco-Roman literature.
H thinks the gospels reflect in some sense the form of early Christian proclamation. He is thus not surprised that Q had a narrative structure too. I want to say again that the claim that Q had a narrative structure is plausible but somewhat suspicious. After all, Q is an abstraction largely from a Lukan order of material, and Luke has a narrative structure. I'm sure this has all been addressed, but how do we know that the supposed narrative structure of Q is not to a large extent a function of Luke's narrative structure?
Nevertheless, Hurtado considers Mark "a significant development in literary genre" (272). It and the other gospels represent "the 'literaturization' of prior oral discourse and written expressions about Jesus" (here building on David Aune's work). Meanwhile, each gospel is a dstinctive literary work with its own emphases. They were a new kind of Christian writing (274).
Secondly, there is nothing comparable in rabbinic literature, a fact that seems christologically significant. A rabbinic work like Pirke Aboth includes the sayings of many different rabbis. But none of them are treated as inerrant or uniquely authoritative, and this collection does not center on one rabbi in particular. "[T]he composition of the canonical Gospels, which he [Richard Burridge] properly fits within the genre of ancient biographical writings ..., represented 'an enormous christological and theological claim'" (275).
Hurtado does mention Philo's biographies of Abraham, Moses, and Joseph, as well as Josephus' autobiography. But these biographies follow the "Greek notion of biography as the presentation of characters who are exemplary of the qualities prized by those for whom one writes" (276). The Gospels, however, do not treat Jesus as "a paragon of general virtues" (277). Jesus is rather "the unique envoy of God who announces and brings the kingdom of God in his own person and actions in an unparalleled way" (277).
Finally, Hurtado considers the Roman-Era literary environment. While he respects those who have argued that the gospels are a unique genre ultimately incomparable to the Greco-Roman bios (e.g., Fitzmeyer), H thinks it is still the best way to categorize them. "To associate a writing with this or that genre does not mean that it is the same in all respects as other examples of that genre" (279). The question is whether a reader would come to the gospels with certain expectations because they would categorize it, roughly speaking, in that way.
Hurtado's placement of the gospels in the biography category comes because he believes they demonstrate certain expectations of the genre, particularly Luke. He does not at this point, at least to me, seem to give many specific examples. For Mark, for example, he mentions a disposition on Mark's part to present Jesus in heroic terms (281).
I have no reason to question the current consensus that places at least Matthew, Mark, and John in the biography category (Luke-Acts it seems to me, is more like history). But I am not sure at this point that it affects my interpretation. In general I think ancient history writers or biographers were more interested in advancing particular truths than in historical certitude, despite frequently strong protests to giving the real scoop (I find Josephus' bombastic claims comical). Thucydides actually apologizes for not being more sensational like other historians. And yet he doesn't bat an eye to tell us that he has made up some of the speeches in his account.
This pattern could impact how we took the gospels and Acts, if we concluded that it applied.
More tomorrow, hopefully...
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Quotes, Allusions and Echoes in Hebrews 1
A last minute addition to the SBL program this year is on Intertexuality in the New Testament. An old friend of my, B. J. Oropeza at Haggard School of Theology, solicited suggested topics and, to make a long story short, I find myself giving a paper on... Hebrews :-)
So between now and November I want intermittently to dawdle through the text of Hebrews--13 dawdles. The operative question is whether we find allusions and echoes to the destruction of Jerusalem. I'm particularly interested in Scripture citations, allusions, and echoes.
Hebrews 1
1:2--"in these last days"
This is an allusion to the "days are coming" passages of Jeremiah related to the new covenant, especially Jeremiah 31. These passages are about return from exile and the restoration of Jerusalem. However, the Christian use of new covenant imagery pre-dates the fall of Jerusalem and Hebrews times such things with the speaking of the Son. It is thus not clear at all that we can make a connection to the destruction of Jerusalem.
1:6 "into the inhabited world"
This citation from a form of the LXX of Deut. 32:43 comes from a passage that speaks of judgment. I have argued that this most likely refers to Christ's entrance into heaven rather than his birth, with the second coming a close second possibility. Again, there could be an echo of the judgment of Israel and the coming punishment of its [Roman] enemies. But there is far from enough evidence to say so.
I have also argued, however, that Hebrews here redefines what the truly "habitable world" is. It is not the earth that is the civilized world. It is heaven. This redefinition, I have argued, makes great sense as a consequence of the removal of Jerusalem from play by the Romans.
These were the only two references that came to mind in chapter 1.
So between now and November I want intermittently to dawdle through the text of Hebrews--13 dawdles. The operative question is whether we find allusions and echoes to the destruction of Jerusalem. I'm particularly interested in Scripture citations, allusions, and echoes.
Hebrews 1
1:2--"in these last days"
This is an allusion to the "days are coming" passages of Jeremiah related to the new covenant, especially Jeremiah 31. These passages are about return from exile and the restoration of Jerusalem. However, the Christian use of new covenant imagery pre-dates the fall of Jerusalem and Hebrews times such things with the speaking of the Son. It is thus not clear at all that we can make a connection to the destruction of Jerusalem.
1:6 "into the inhabited world"
This citation from a form of the LXX of Deut. 32:43 comes from a passage that speaks of judgment. I have argued that this most likely refers to Christ's entrance into heaven rather than his birth, with the second coming a close second possibility. Again, there could be an echo of the judgment of Israel and the coming punishment of its [Roman] enemies. But there is far from enough evidence to say so.
I have also argued, however, that Hebrews here redefines what the truly "habitable world" is. It is not the earth that is the civilized world. It is heaven. This redefinition, I have argued, makes great sense as a consequence of the removal of Jerusalem from play by the Romans.
These were the only two references that came to mind in chapter 1.
Dunn's Partings 11: "The Parting of the Ways"
Chapter 12 is the concluding chapter of the book. Much of it is spent exploring how Judaism and Christianity today might relate to each other, and it ends with Dunn's sense that "At its historic heart, Christianity is a protest against any and every attempt to claim that God is our God and not yours" (337). It's interesting to think of him saying this at the Vatican. I don't really agree with Dunn here, for good or ill. Jesus and Paul were inclusive--if a person was willing to become a part of the kingdom. I say that as an observation.
The part of the chapter that I'm interested in as far as research is, however, the question of when Judaism and Christianity "parted." Dunn rightly indicates the sloppiness of the question. Rabbinic Judaism was not the whole of Judaism. It did not have the Jewish realm in its grip until the 300's, even though Javneh was recognized as the center of Jewdom by the Romans soon after the Fall of Jerusalem.
Jewish Christianity in its older sense continued. The tradition that Jerusalem Christians fled to Pella coincides with the rise of the Ebionites in that region in the second century. Such Christian Jews believed that Jesus was the Messiah but did not believe him to be divine in the sense of the Gospel of John. This group, like the Gnostics of Egypt, would eventually peter out.
Other forms of Judaism apparently flourished for a time after the destruction of Jerusalem. The time from AD70-135, when the Romans put an end to the bar Kokbah revolt, was "the golden age of Jewish apocalyptic" (306). Merkabah mysticism started. 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch both presume that the temple would be rebuilt. The two powers "heresy" comes into play.
Meanwhile Jews and Christians remain in contact. The pattern of synagogue leadership becomes the pattern of Christian assembly leadership (overseer and elders). Jewish texts like the Psalms of Solomon, Sibylline Oracles, Testament of Moses, 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch were preserved by Christians, not by rabbinic Judaism.
Christians added to this literature and made it its own. Christians added chapters at the beginning and end of the Jewish 4 Ezra to make it the Christian 2 Esdras. The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs are Christian, but draw on Jewish source material. The Jewish Martyrdom of Isaiah with some addition becomes the Christian Ascension of Isaiah.
Meanwhile, the rabbis begin to ostracize Christian Jews. In some places, they become included within the minim clause of the 18 Benedictions as heretics, unable to eat with other Jews or participate in synagogue liturgy. Copies of the Torah made by Christians are not considered sacred.
The LXX is rejected as an appropriate translation of the Hebrew Bible, and Aquila makes another that is not so susceptible to signature Christian interpretations (like Isaiah 7:14). Indeed, books from Sirach on are excluded from the rabbinic canon. Christians continue to use these books as Scripture.
Greco-Roman authors begin to recognize Christianity as distinct from Judaism. Tacitus may not completely see the distinction around 100, but Suetonius does just a little later. The fiscus Judaicus of Domitian, the "Jewish tax," included anyone who looked anything like a Jew in practice. But with Nerva in 96, a person could opt out simply by declaration. Dunn suggests, "there is something both sad and modern about the likely conclusion that government taxation policy played a significant part in the final parting of the ways" (317).
Dunn's conclusion about when the parting took place? Sloppiness to be sure. But "by the end of the second Jewish revolt, Christian and Jew were clearly distinct and separate" (318).
The part of the chapter that I'm interested in as far as research is, however, the question of when Judaism and Christianity "parted." Dunn rightly indicates the sloppiness of the question. Rabbinic Judaism was not the whole of Judaism. It did not have the Jewish realm in its grip until the 300's, even though Javneh was recognized as the center of Jewdom by the Romans soon after the Fall of Jerusalem.
Jewish Christianity in its older sense continued. The tradition that Jerusalem Christians fled to Pella coincides with the rise of the Ebionites in that region in the second century. Such Christian Jews believed that Jesus was the Messiah but did not believe him to be divine in the sense of the Gospel of John. This group, like the Gnostics of Egypt, would eventually peter out.
Other forms of Judaism apparently flourished for a time after the destruction of Jerusalem. The time from AD70-135, when the Romans put an end to the bar Kokbah revolt, was "the golden age of Jewish apocalyptic" (306). Merkabah mysticism started. 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch both presume that the temple would be rebuilt. The two powers "heresy" comes into play.
Meanwhile Jews and Christians remain in contact. The pattern of synagogue leadership becomes the pattern of Christian assembly leadership (overseer and elders). Jewish texts like the Psalms of Solomon, Sibylline Oracles, Testament of Moses, 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch were preserved by Christians, not by rabbinic Judaism.
Christians added to this literature and made it its own. Christians added chapters at the beginning and end of the Jewish 4 Ezra to make it the Christian 2 Esdras. The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs are Christian, but draw on Jewish source material. The Jewish Martyrdom of Isaiah with some addition becomes the Christian Ascension of Isaiah.
Meanwhile, the rabbis begin to ostracize Christian Jews. In some places, they become included within the minim clause of the 18 Benedictions as heretics, unable to eat with other Jews or participate in synagogue liturgy. Copies of the Torah made by Christians are not considered sacred.
The LXX is rejected as an appropriate translation of the Hebrew Bible, and Aquila makes another that is not so susceptible to signature Christian interpretations (like Isaiah 7:14). Indeed, books from Sirach on are excluded from the rabbinic canon. Christians continue to use these books as Scripture.
Greco-Roman authors begin to recognize Christianity as distinct from Judaism. Tacitus may not completely see the distinction around 100, but Suetonius does just a little later. The fiscus Judaicus of Domitian, the "Jewish tax," included anyone who looked anything like a Jew in practice. But with Nerva in 96, a person could opt out simply by declaration. Dunn suggests, "there is something both sad and modern about the likely conclusion that government taxation policy played a significant part in the final parting of the ways" (317).
Dunn's conclusion about when the parting took place? Sloppiness to be sure. But "by the end of the second Jewish revolt, Christian and Jew were clearly distinct and separate" (318).
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
My CBQ Article Out at Long Last
I received about a ba-zillion copies of my latest article in the mail today. It's titled, "2 Corinthians and the Πιστις Χριστου Debate." If you're in Marion and want a copy, I have dozens of them.
I basically argue that the logic of 2 Corinthians 4:13 moves from the faith of Jesus to Paul's faith. I suggest that the pattern of thought serves as a kind of Rosetta Stone to the faith of Jesus Christ debate. Jesus had faith in God; we are to have faith in the same God who raised Jesus from the dead.
I thus suggest that Romans 3:22 and Galatians 2:16 follow a similar logic. Paul begins on common ground with his imaginary Petrine interlocutor. We know the faithfulness of Jesus Christ is essential for justification (his faithfulness to death=his atoning death).
[I recognize that we can distinguish the faithfulness of Jesus from the faith of Jesus, but they are not too far apart and would easily flow into one another.]
Accordingly, we have trusted in Christ (and in the God who raised Jesus from the dead). From this point on I think Paul largely has the faith of the believer in view.
I thus playfully suggest that Paul's thought moves εκ Hays εις Dunn.
I basically argue that the logic of 2 Corinthians 4:13 moves from the faith of Jesus to Paul's faith. I suggest that the pattern of thought serves as a kind of Rosetta Stone to the faith of Jesus Christ debate. Jesus had faith in God; we are to have faith in the same God who raised Jesus from the dead.
I thus suggest that Romans 3:22 and Galatians 2:16 follow a similar logic. Paul begins on common ground with his imaginary Petrine interlocutor. We know the faithfulness of Jesus Christ is essential for justification (his faithfulness to death=his atoning death).
[I recognize that we can distinguish the faithfulness of Jesus from the faith of Jesus, but they are not too far apart and would easily flow into one another.]
Accordingly, we have trusted in Christ (and in the God who raised Jesus from the dead). From this point on I think Paul largely has the faith of the believer in view.
I thus playfully suggest that Paul's thought moves εκ Hays εις Dunn.
Dunn's Partings 10: "Is Christianity Monotheist?"
OK, I changed my mind. I feel like I need to do a little more of James D. G. Dunn's, The Partings of the Ways. Chapter 11 is entitled, "Is Christianity Monotheist? The First Great Debate."
Hebrews
Dunn begins with Hebrews. His interpretations of wisdom language and Adam imagery are largely the same for Hebrews as they were for Paul and thus do not indicate a parting with Judaism for Hebrews with regard to monotheism. Dunn leans toward a fairly strong Platonic bent to Hebrews and so aptly concludes, "If Philo remains within the spectrum of recognizable and acceptable first-century Judaism, would the same not be true for Hebrews also?" (276).
James
James is no sweat on this issue. It barely expresss any Christology to speak of!
1 Peter
1 Peter also has no new spin on Christology that might be in tension with monotheism, although Dunn does discuss 1 Peter 1:20: "Jesus was destined before the foundation of the world but was made manifest at the end of the times for your sake." Does this statement imply pre-existence? I wonder if Simon Gathercole would say yes, given his expose on "I have come"language in the New Testament.
But Dunn cites the Testament of Moses 1.14: "Moses says, 'He designed and devised me, and he prepared me before the foundation of the world that I should be the mediator of the covenant.' No one would suggest that this statement implied Moses literal pre-existence.
Matthew
Matthew has a wisdom Christology in which Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. Matthew seems to modify Q and allude to Sirach in ways that imply that Jesus is God's wisdom. Dunn nevertheless concludes "that the terms of Matthew's christology are thoroughly Jewish and would have been so perceived by Matthew's Jewish readers when they made their own assessment of the significance of that christology" (281).
Revelation
The worship of Jesus in Revelation is indeed striking. In my opinion, it is more striking than anywhere else in the NT. Dunn points out precedents and parallels in Ezekiel 1 and Daniel 7 that show how imagery both of the Son of Man and the Ancient of Days are applied to Jesus.
Dunn concludes that "the visions of Revelation ... seem to be stretching that pattern [of apocalyptic] and indeed beginning to break it" (286).
Yes, Revelation would be unacceptable to the rabbinic Judaism that was beginning to take shape after the destruction of Jerusalem. But, then again, there are non-Christian Jewish movements within post-70 Judaism that they would similarly condemn. Yahoel, the angel of the Lord in the Apocalypse of Abraham was surely far too similar to God for rabbinic Judaism to accept.
It is during this period that the "two powers" in heaven heresy was arising and being defined as heresy by some rabbis. We remember that other rabbis--Akiba and especially Elisha ben Abuyah--had visions of Metatron as a second divine power in heaven. Similarly, Merkabah mysticism is similarly beginning to bloom. This wild and wacky world of post-70 apocalyptic and mystical Judaism is hardly what we tend to think of as "orthodox" Judaism. Dunn by the way argues in this chapter that the Parables of Enoch post-date AD70 (292-93).
John
At the end of a lengthy discussion of John--the longest in the chapter--Dunn concludes wisely, "So far as the Jewish authorities were concerned, the claims made by the (Johannine) Christians had gone too far: the Jesus of John's Gospel had made himself God" (299). On the other hand, "as far as the Fourth Evangelist was concerned, and the Christian Jews for whom he spoke, however, this last was a false evaluation of their belief" (299)--that is, that they had "knocked away the final pillar of second Temple Judaism," monotheism. Dunn claims, "John saw himself still as a monotheist."
If I were to explore these issues on a scholarly level, something I have neither the time nor the opportunity to do, I think statements like these are somewhat simplistic. To my surprise, I have felt like Dunn was simplifying things in this book for a somewhat more popular audience. I know it hardly seems that way in my circles, but there is a large number of really smart lay Christians out there who used to read Dunn's stuff, just like they read Tom Wright's stuff now.
Anyway, that's the only way I can explain why Dunn oversimplifies things in the book. I doubt we can study Revelation or John on a scholarly level without concluding they both had a composition history. I further suspect that their namesakes may not have been involved in the final stages of composition. We thus have to consider seriously the possibility of Christological development even within each book.
John clearly teaches that Jesus was pre-existent. John further is clearly in a major conflict with its Palestinian Jewish environment. Since J. Louis Martyn it has been passe in Johannine scholarship to see in the blind man ousted from the synagogue a reflection of the Johannine situation. Dunn says, "There is ... no indication that such a confession [of Jesus as Messiah] became a make or break issue between Jewish Christians and leaders of Judaism prior to 70. The earlier disputes, as we have seen, were about the Temple and the Torah. But in Palestine, Jews were evidently able to believe that Jesus was Messiah and yet remain largely undisturbed before the Jewish revolt" (289).
John sees Jesus as the exclusive revealer of God. As we've implied, Dunn sees most of the Daniel 7 speculation as consequent on the fall of Jerusalem. (292-93). Emerging rabbinic Judaism began to clamp down with the 12th Benediction condemnation of the minim. This condemnation probably was not formulated with Christians specifically in mind, but some certainly did come to include Christians under its condemnation.
John, however, sees Jesus as the exclusive revealer of God. Dunn suggests that "No one has ascended to heaven" in John is a polemic against other forms of mystical Judaism at this time, hints of which we also find in Colossians and possibly Hebrews 1.
Daniel Boyarin's term is a better description of what we find in Revelation and John than "parting." We are surely witnessing in these NT books the partitioning of the ways between some forms of Christianity and some forms of Judaism.
Hebrews
Dunn begins with Hebrews. His interpretations of wisdom language and Adam imagery are largely the same for Hebrews as they were for Paul and thus do not indicate a parting with Judaism for Hebrews with regard to monotheism. Dunn leans toward a fairly strong Platonic bent to Hebrews and so aptly concludes, "If Philo remains within the spectrum of recognizable and acceptable first-century Judaism, would the same not be true for Hebrews also?" (276).
James
James is no sweat on this issue. It barely expresss any Christology to speak of!
1 Peter
1 Peter also has no new spin on Christology that might be in tension with monotheism, although Dunn does discuss 1 Peter 1:20: "Jesus was destined before the foundation of the world but was made manifest at the end of the times for your sake." Does this statement imply pre-existence? I wonder if Simon Gathercole would say yes, given his expose on "I have come"language in the New Testament.
But Dunn cites the Testament of Moses 1.14: "Moses says, 'He designed and devised me, and he prepared me before the foundation of the world that I should be the mediator of the covenant.' No one would suggest that this statement implied Moses literal pre-existence.
Matthew
Matthew has a wisdom Christology in which Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. Matthew seems to modify Q and allude to Sirach in ways that imply that Jesus is God's wisdom. Dunn nevertheless concludes "that the terms of Matthew's christology are thoroughly Jewish and would have been so perceived by Matthew's Jewish readers when they made their own assessment of the significance of that christology" (281).
Revelation
The worship of Jesus in Revelation is indeed striking. In my opinion, it is more striking than anywhere else in the NT. Dunn points out precedents and parallels in Ezekiel 1 and Daniel 7 that show how imagery both of the Son of Man and the Ancient of Days are applied to Jesus.
Dunn concludes that "the visions of Revelation ... seem to be stretching that pattern [of apocalyptic] and indeed beginning to break it" (286).
Yes, Revelation would be unacceptable to the rabbinic Judaism that was beginning to take shape after the destruction of Jerusalem. But, then again, there are non-Christian Jewish movements within post-70 Judaism that they would similarly condemn. Yahoel, the angel of the Lord in the Apocalypse of Abraham was surely far too similar to God for rabbinic Judaism to accept.
It is during this period that the "two powers" in heaven heresy was arising and being defined as heresy by some rabbis. We remember that other rabbis--Akiba and especially Elisha ben Abuyah--had visions of Metatron as a second divine power in heaven. Similarly, Merkabah mysticism is similarly beginning to bloom. This wild and wacky world of post-70 apocalyptic and mystical Judaism is hardly what we tend to think of as "orthodox" Judaism. Dunn by the way argues in this chapter that the Parables of Enoch post-date AD70 (292-93).
John
At the end of a lengthy discussion of John--the longest in the chapter--Dunn concludes wisely, "So far as the Jewish authorities were concerned, the claims made by the (Johannine) Christians had gone too far: the Jesus of John's Gospel had made himself God" (299). On the other hand, "as far as the Fourth Evangelist was concerned, and the Christian Jews for whom he spoke, however, this last was a false evaluation of their belief" (299)--that is, that they had "knocked away the final pillar of second Temple Judaism," monotheism. Dunn claims, "John saw himself still as a monotheist."
If I were to explore these issues on a scholarly level, something I have neither the time nor the opportunity to do, I think statements like these are somewhat simplistic. To my surprise, I have felt like Dunn was simplifying things in this book for a somewhat more popular audience. I know it hardly seems that way in my circles, but there is a large number of really smart lay Christians out there who used to read Dunn's stuff, just like they read Tom Wright's stuff now.
Anyway, that's the only way I can explain why Dunn oversimplifies things in the book. I doubt we can study Revelation or John on a scholarly level without concluding they both had a composition history. I further suspect that their namesakes may not have been involved in the final stages of composition. We thus have to consider seriously the possibility of Christological development even within each book.
John clearly teaches that Jesus was pre-existent. John further is clearly in a major conflict with its Palestinian Jewish environment. Since J. Louis Martyn it has been passe in Johannine scholarship to see in the blind man ousted from the synagogue a reflection of the Johannine situation. Dunn says, "There is ... no indication that such a confession [of Jesus as Messiah] became a make or break issue between Jewish Christians and leaders of Judaism prior to 70. The earlier disputes, as we have seen, were about the Temple and the Torah. But in Palestine, Jews were evidently able to believe that Jesus was Messiah and yet remain largely undisturbed before the Jewish revolt" (289).
John sees Jesus as the exclusive revealer of God. As we've implied, Dunn sees most of the Daniel 7 speculation as consequent on the fall of Jerusalem. (292-93). Emerging rabbinic Judaism began to clamp down with the 12th Benediction condemnation of the minim. This condemnation probably was not formulated with Christians specifically in mind, but some certainly did come to include Christians under its condemnation.
John, however, sees Jesus as the exclusive revealer of God. Dunn suggests that "No one has ascended to heaven" in John is a polemic against other forms of mystical Judaism at this time, hints of which we also find in Colossians and possibly Hebrews 1.
Daniel Boyarin's term is a better description of what we find in Revelation and John than "parting." We are surely witnessing in these NT books the partitioning of the ways between some forms of Christianity and some forms of Judaism.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
The Worship of Jesus: The Spectrum of Positions
For some time, New Testament scholarship has debated the question of when the earliest Christians worshipped Jesus and what exactly that might mean. Wilhelm Bousset put forward the most influential hypothesis of the twentieth century, in which he argued that the worship of Jesus arose in the context of Greco-Roman religion in Paul's churches. The earliest, Aramaic-speaking believers, according to Bousset, did not worship Jesus.
In the post-Holocaust world, however, voices like Krister Stendahl, W. D. Davies, and E. P. Sanders began to undermine long standing views about the nature of "early" Judaism and early Christianity's relationship to it. The ripple effects of their re-examination has drastically impacted the study of Paul (the "new" perspective) and the historical Jesus (the "third" quest). Similarly, it has brought intense scrutiny on Bousset's understanding of the "parting of the ways," so called, between Christianity and Judaism. A slew of studies in the 90s opened what some have called a new religionsgeschichtliche Schule, in which Christian origins are located in relation to early Judaism as the primary influence rather than Greco-Roman religion.
We can largely categorize this diverse body of literature and its voices by the way a given scholar addresses three questions. First, did those who believed Jesus was the messiah worship him in the strictest sense of that term? Secondly, if they did, did this worship stand outside the boundaries of mainstream Jewish monotheism? Finally, if they did, when did this worship first take place and what factors facilitated it?
A first group of contemporary scholars would answer affirmative to the first question and would see the worship of Jesus early in answer to the third. At the same time, however, they understand the "Judaisms" of the time to be so diverse that monotheism was not a strict boundary to be violated. Jewish believers in Jesus would thus have violated monotheism by later standards, but such standards would be anachronistic in relation to the first century. Christian Judaism would simply stand as one of many diverse Jewish options of the day. Such scholars include individuals like Jarl Fossum, Margaret Barker, and Crispin Fletcher-Louis.
A second group of contemporary scholars has attempted to bolster a position that more or less aligns with traditional Christian views. This perspective sees monotheism as an established boundary within Judaism at the time and sees the worship of Jesus as a relatively early phenomenon within the Christian movement. However, they argue that this worship was not a violation of Jewish monotheism. Although the various ways in which they argue for this position differ significantly from one another, we might mention Larry Hurtado, Richard Bauckham, and N. T. Wright as exponents of this perspective.
The view that prevailed throughout most of the twentieth century affirmed Jewish monotheism and saw the worship of Jesus fairly early (usually with Paul or Hellenistic Christianity). However, it did see the worship of Jesus as a significant departure from Jewish monotheism. Wilhelm Bousset was of course the fountainhead of this perspective and the impact of his work dominated the scholarship of the early and mid-twentieth century.
A final view affirms Jewish monotheism as a relatively fixed boundary, but does not see the worship of Jesus in the fullest sense of that term as a phenomenon of the earliest Christian believers. Rather, it sees the full worship of Jesus as the end of a process of development that only reaches its destination in John and the latest writings of the New Testament, if even then. The best known proponents of this position are James D. G. Dunn and Maurice Casey.
In the post-Holocaust world, however, voices like Krister Stendahl, W. D. Davies, and E. P. Sanders began to undermine long standing views about the nature of "early" Judaism and early Christianity's relationship to it. The ripple effects of their re-examination has drastically impacted the study of Paul (the "new" perspective) and the historical Jesus (the "third" quest). Similarly, it has brought intense scrutiny on Bousset's understanding of the "parting of the ways," so called, between Christianity and Judaism. A slew of studies in the 90s opened what some have called a new religionsgeschichtliche Schule, in which Christian origins are located in relation to early Judaism as the primary influence rather than Greco-Roman religion.
We can largely categorize this diverse body of literature and its voices by the way a given scholar addresses three questions. First, did those who believed Jesus was the messiah worship him in the strictest sense of that term? Secondly, if they did, did this worship stand outside the boundaries of mainstream Jewish monotheism? Finally, if they did, when did this worship first take place and what factors facilitated it?
A first group of contemporary scholars would answer affirmative to the first question and would see the worship of Jesus early in answer to the third. At the same time, however, they understand the "Judaisms" of the time to be so diverse that monotheism was not a strict boundary to be violated. Jewish believers in Jesus would thus have violated monotheism by later standards, but such standards would be anachronistic in relation to the first century. Christian Judaism would simply stand as one of many diverse Jewish options of the day. Such scholars include individuals like Jarl Fossum, Margaret Barker, and Crispin Fletcher-Louis.
A second group of contemporary scholars has attempted to bolster a position that more or less aligns with traditional Christian views. This perspective sees monotheism as an established boundary within Judaism at the time and sees the worship of Jesus as a relatively early phenomenon within the Christian movement. However, they argue that this worship was not a violation of Jewish monotheism. Although the various ways in which they argue for this position differ significantly from one another, we might mention Larry Hurtado, Richard Bauckham, and N. T. Wright as exponents of this perspective.
The view that prevailed throughout most of the twentieth century affirmed Jewish monotheism and saw the worship of Jesus fairly early (usually with Paul or Hellenistic Christianity). However, it did see the worship of Jesus as a significant departure from Jewish monotheism. Wilhelm Bousset was of course the fountainhead of this perspective and the impact of his work dominated the scholarship of the early and mid-twentieth century.
A final view affirms Jewish monotheism as a relatively fixed boundary, but does not see the worship of Jesus in the fullest sense of that term as a phenomenon of the earliest Christian believers. Rather, it sees the full worship of Jesus as the end of a process of development that only reaches its destination in John and the latest writings of the New Testament, if even then. The best known proponents of this position are James D. G. Dunn and Maurice Casey.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Dunn's Partings 9: "One God, One Lord"
Chapter 10 of James D. G. Dunn's, The Partings of the Ways is "One God, One Lord," and it asks whether or not Paul's writings have yet departed from mainstream Judaism. Dunn's answer is "no." Throughout the chapter he concludes repeatedly that "nothing of what has been covered above seems to have caused any question or concern among Paul's Jewish contemporaries" in relation to the issue of monotheism (170). In a comment reminiscent of Hurtado--while ironically differing from him on the issue--Dunn suggests that "Had Paul's christology been equally, or more contentious [as his understanding of the Jewish Law] at this time for his fellow Jews, we would surely have heard of it from Paul's own letters."
1. Resurrection
The belief of Paul and the earliest Christians that Jesus rose from the dead, that he was exalted to heaven, did not threaten monotheism. A unique and remarkable belief about a person who had just been alive, yes. But squarely within Judaism.
2. Exaltation to divine functions
Here Dunn disagrees with what would become Bauckham's position. The fact that Jesus participates in the judgment is quite remarkable, but it does not threaten Jewish monotheism for Jesus judges as God's representative.
Jesus' resurrection, his ascension, his apotheosis/transformation, these are remarkable things to attribute that someone who was recently alive. But we find Jewish precendents for them. Peter facilitates the giving of the Spirit, and no one thinks he threatens monotheism.
So to extend Dunn, I don't find Bauckham's assumption that Jesus must be included within the divinity because Jesus is on a throne persuasive. I think he fails to demonstrate that this must be the case. He mostly assumes it must be. His valiant attempts to work around Ezekiel the Tragedian and the Parables of Enoch are unpersuasive to me.
3. Jesus as Lord
This sentence sums up Dunn on this issue, and I find it hard to disagree: "Paul in fact calls Jesus 'Lord' as much as a means of distinguishing Jesus from God as of identifying him with God" (250).
"The LORD said to my Lord," says Psalm 110:1. Hebrews 1:6: "Therefore God, his God anointed him." And the timing of the acquiring of the name LORD is at the point of resurrection/exaltation. Bauckham in my opinion largely ignores this dynamic.
4. Jesus as Last Adam
I hink most will agree that Paul's Adam Christology did not impinge on monotheism. However, Dunn tries to make it undo the pre-existence of Christ in the Philippian "hymn." Few will go with him here.
As I've said here before, the Philippian hymn is the one place in Paul's writings that is very difficult not to see an affirmation of Christ's pre-existence. Its uniqueness, in that regard, is suspicious. But Dunn's understanding of the hymn seems problematic--that the form of God is Christ's Adamic state in the image of God, but that unlike Adam Christ did not try to seize equality with God.
Dunn also notes the key passage in the Life of Adam and Eve where God commands the angels to "worship" Adam. Dunn would not see the worship of Jesus in Paul as any more of a departure from Jewish monotheism than this.
5. Jesus as wisdom
Dunn makes an excellent case, I think, in this section that a Jew reading passages like Colossians 1:15ff would hear an implicit comparison of Christ to God's wisdom. The strength of his argument is that he so much as asks us to picture how a Jew with no prior knowledge of Christ would understand such passages. I think he is absolutely right in his answer to this question. However, the retort asks, But these would be individuals who knew a little something about Christ beforehand?
6. Jesus and the Spirit
Dunn here shows the striking way in which Paul glides from virtually equating the Spirit with the risen Christ to distinguishing the two. "Jesus and the Spirit were seen to overlap in function, but not wholly to coincide" (266). This stretches mainstream Jewish categories, but Dunn thinks it still stands within Judaism.
7. Jesus as God
Since Dunn does not think Paul wrote Titus, the only place he really considers as a possible flat out reference to Jesus as God is Romans 9:5. But the punctuation is at issue and Dunn favors as more likely the reading that separates, "God be blessed forever" from Jesus. One's answer here will largely turn on one's assessment of Paul's broader categories.
Dunn also addresses Hurtado's argument that the cultic devotion to Jesus in Paul already marks a significant mutation of Jewish monotheism. Dunn does recognize its significance: "These are indeed remarkable and we should not allow our familiarity with them to dull the astonishing character of such language spoken of one who had so recently lived on earth" (269).
But Dunn considers such imagery "a development only begun." In other words, it would lead eventually to something beyond Jewish monotheism. Just not yet in Paul. The hymns Hurtado cites are about Christ rather than to Christ. And despite invocations of Jesus, prayer is more often in Paul to God through Christ.
I might close by saying that I think it is a mistake to assume that the Christian understanding of Christ's divinity stands or falls on the interpretation of Paul. I think people like Bauckham, Hurtado, Wright, Witherington, etc. find themselves strongly driven to see as much of a later Christology in Paul as they can make the evidence fit without soiling their academic conscience. They are good Protestants.
But Roman Catholic scholars often have exactly the same impulse, it seems to me. Can't we have as much faith that God was unfolding these things in the early church as much as we Christians have faith that the New Testament unfolds things not yet on the Old Testament page?
Just a thought...
With some regret I need to move on from Dunn's Partings. I may only do one or two more chapters in Hurtado's Lord Jesus Christ as well for now. Too many things to write these next couple of months...
1. Resurrection
The belief of Paul and the earliest Christians that Jesus rose from the dead, that he was exalted to heaven, did not threaten monotheism. A unique and remarkable belief about a person who had just been alive, yes. But squarely within Judaism.
2. Exaltation to divine functions
Here Dunn disagrees with what would become Bauckham's position. The fact that Jesus participates in the judgment is quite remarkable, but it does not threaten Jewish monotheism for Jesus judges as God's representative.
Jesus' resurrection, his ascension, his apotheosis/transformation, these are remarkable things to attribute that someone who was recently alive. But we find Jewish precendents for them. Peter facilitates the giving of the Spirit, and no one thinks he threatens monotheism.
So to extend Dunn, I don't find Bauckham's assumption that Jesus must be included within the divinity because Jesus is on a throne persuasive. I think he fails to demonstrate that this must be the case. He mostly assumes it must be. His valiant attempts to work around Ezekiel the Tragedian and the Parables of Enoch are unpersuasive to me.
3. Jesus as Lord
This sentence sums up Dunn on this issue, and I find it hard to disagree: "Paul in fact calls Jesus 'Lord' as much as a means of distinguishing Jesus from God as of identifying him with God" (250).
"The LORD said to my Lord," says Psalm 110:1. Hebrews 1:6: "Therefore God, his God anointed him." And the timing of the acquiring of the name LORD is at the point of resurrection/exaltation. Bauckham in my opinion largely ignores this dynamic.
4. Jesus as Last Adam
I hink most will agree that Paul's Adam Christology did not impinge on monotheism. However, Dunn tries to make it undo the pre-existence of Christ in the Philippian "hymn." Few will go with him here.
As I've said here before, the Philippian hymn is the one place in Paul's writings that is very difficult not to see an affirmation of Christ's pre-existence. Its uniqueness, in that regard, is suspicious. But Dunn's understanding of the hymn seems problematic--that the form of God is Christ's Adamic state in the image of God, but that unlike Adam Christ did not try to seize equality with God.
Dunn also notes the key passage in the Life of Adam and Eve where God commands the angels to "worship" Adam. Dunn would not see the worship of Jesus in Paul as any more of a departure from Jewish monotheism than this.
5. Jesus as wisdom
Dunn makes an excellent case, I think, in this section that a Jew reading passages like Colossians 1:15ff would hear an implicit comparison of Christ to God's wisdom. The strength of his argument is that he so much as asks us to picture how a Jew with no prior knowledge of Christ would understand such passages. I think he is absolutely right in his answer to this question. However, the retort asks, But these would be individuals who knew a little something about Christ beforehand?
6. Jesus and the Spirit
Dunn here shows the striking way in which Paul glides from virtually equating the Spirit with the risen Christ to distinguishing the two. "Jesus and the Spirit were seen to overlap in function, but not wholly to coincide" (266). This stretches mainstream Jewish categories, but Dunn thinks it still stands within Judaism.
7. Jesus as God
Since Dunn does not think Paul wrote Titus, the only place he really considers as a possible flat out reference to Jesus as God is Romans 9:5. But the punctuation is at issue and Dunn favors as more likely the reading that separates, "God be blessed forever" from Jesus. One's answer here will largely turn on one's assessment of Paul's broader categories.
Dunn also addresses Hurtado's argument that the cultic devotion to Jesus in Paul already marks a significant mutation of Jewish monotheism. Dunn does recognize its significance: "These are indeed remarkable and we should not allow our familiarity with them to dull the astonishing character of such language spoken of one who had so recently lived on earth" (269).
But Dunn considers such imagery "a development only begun." In other words, it would lead eventually to something beyond Jewish monotheism. Just not yet in Paul. The hymns Hurtado cites are about Christ rather than to Christ. And despite invocations of Jesus, prayer is more often in Paul to God through Christ.
I might close by saying that I think it is a mistake to assume that the Christian understanding of Christ's divinity stands or falls on the interpretation of Paul. I think people like Bauckham, Hurtado, Wright, Witherington, etc. find themselves strongly driven to see as much of a later Christology in Paul as they can make the evidence fit without soiling their academic conscience. They are good Protestants.
But Roman Catholic scholars often have exactly the same impulse, it seems to me. Can't we have as much faith that God was unfolding these things in the early church as much as we Christians have faith that the New Testament unfolds things not yet on the Old Testament page?
Just a thought...
With some regret I need to move on from Dunn's Partings. I may only do one or two more chapters in Hurtado's Lord Jesus Christ as well for now. Too many things to write these next couple of months...
My working definitions of sanctification and holiness
I'm teaching an online class for IWU these next few weeks, and posted my working definitions of "holiness" and "sanctification" for them this morning at the end of a workshop.
By the way, I'm thinking of proposing an online grad class in the Spring "Preaching Paul's Life and Letters." If God and accreditors smile on our undertaking, we may be approved to offer an MDiv by then, and this could give a person a head start on electives. If all goes well, we'll be looking for 30 brave members of the "first seminary class" in Fall '09--one cohort of 15 online and one cohort to meet once a week onsite. Be looking for more information if all goes well.
Anyway, this online course for the Spring would run for 14 weeks in the Spring from January to early April. One day a week would be a lecture/discussion of content by way of Adobe Acrobat (I would do it somewhat differently from Hebrews last Spring--we would actually meet online at a specific time like a normal class). The rest of the class would meet on Blackboard in online class format. Everyone would preach at least once, maybe twice. The content would include both Acts 13-28 and all of the Pauline letters.
Anyway, here's what I posted this morning for the class:
To sanctify means "to make holy," to "holy-fy." So "sanctification" would mean the process of becoming holy or the state of having been made holy. The harder thing to define is what it means to be or become holy.
Holiness has as its basic sense being set apart to GOD as GOD's. I put God in all caps because a cognitive definition just doesn't cut it. The sentence should be said with some trembling and nervousness. You should fall on your face in the manner of Isaiah 6 when you speak of God's holiness, for to say God is holy is to say that God is GOD! To touch His stuff, to get near His presence is like stepping close to an electricity relay station where the voltage is so high you can feel the tingling on your skin and you get a little nervous because you know this stuff can fry you alive!
To be holy or to be made holy is thus to be God's or be made God's. It means that other people better be careful what they do to you because you are God's property. You are drawn on His side of the line. And it means that you'd better be careful how you live as well, because you're set apart as His. Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5 should suffice as an example of what happens when you mess around with the holy.
The idea of purity of heart and life is thus secondary to what holiness is, but it is a natural by-product of the fundamental idea. We act appropriate to something that belongs to GOD. It makes perfect sense that we would become holy by the "sanctification of the Spirit," since having God possess us fits with God's Spirit within us.
We are holy from the time we receive the Spirit, which is the defining moment of becoming God's or in popular Christianese, "getting saved." I personally don't think it makes sense to become more or less holy, at least not in the biblical sense of the word. Either you belong to God or you don't.
By the way, I'm thinking of proposing an online grad class in the Spring "Preaching Paul's Life and Letters." If God and accreditors smile on our undertaking, we may be approved to offer an MDiv by then, and this could give a person a head start on electives. If all goes well, we'll be looking for 30 brave members of the "first seminary class" in Fall '09--one cohort of 15 online and one cohort to meet once a week onsite. Be looking for more information if all goes well.
Anyway, this online course for the Spring would run for 14 weeks in the Spring from January to early April. One day a week would be a lecture/discussion of content by way of Adobe Acrobat (I would do it somewhat differently from Hebrews last Spring--we would actually meet online at a specific time like a normal class). The rest of the class would meet on Blackboard in online class format. Everyone would preach at least once, maybe twice. The content would include both Acts 13-28 and all of the Pauline letters.
Anyway, here's what I posted this morning for the class:
To sanctify means "to make holy," to "holy-fy." So "sanctification" would mean the process of becoming holy or the state of having been made holy. The harder thing to define is what it means to be or become holy.
Holiness has as its basic sense being set apart to GOD as GOD's. I put God in all caps because a cognitive definition just doesn't cut it. The sentence should be said with some trembling and nervousness. You should fall on your face in the manner of Isaiah 6 when you speak of God's holiness, for to say God is holy is to say that God is GOD! To touch His stuff, to get near His presence is like stepping close to an electricity relay station where the voltage is so high you can feel the tingling on your skin and you get a little nervous because you know this stuff can fry you alive!
To be holy or to be made holy is thus to be God's or be made God's. It means that other people better be careful what they do to you because you are God's property. You are drawn on His side of the line. And it means that you'd better be careful how you live as well, because you're set apart as His. Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5 should suffice as an example of what happens when you mess around with the holy.
The idea of purity of heart and life is thus secondary to what holiness is, but it is a natural by-product of the fundamental idea. We act appropriate to something that belongs to GOD. It makes perfect sense that we would become holy by the "sanctification of the Spirit," since having God possess us fits with God's Spirit within us.
We are holy from the time we receive the Spirit, which is the defining moment of becoming God's or in popular Christianese, "getting saved." I personally don't think it makes sense to become more or less holy, at least not in the biblical sense of the word. Either you belong to God or you don't.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Hurtado 8: Chapter 4, Part 2
And now the second half of chapter 4, "Q and Early Devotion to Jesus" in Larry Hurtado's, Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity.
The second half of the chapter begins with a section on "The Argument from Silence." H claims that "an argument from silence is only as strong as the alleged 'silence' can be shown to be conspicuous and difficult to account for except on the explanation one offers" (239). But he doesn't believe the silence of Q on the resurrection or Jesus' salvific death is significant.
For one thing, "Q presumes ... acquaintance with tradition about Jesus beyond what it relates" (240). The purpose of Q, he thinks, was as an "instructional text intended primarily to call for obedience to Jesus, and aiming to 'position' that obedience by its eschatological significance and outcome" (242). The author thus focuses on Jesus' death as an inspiring example rather than as atoning. "But this choice hardly indicates an ignorance of, or lack of interest in, other construals of Jesus' death."
The last part of the chapter then gets to Hurtado's real interest, "Devotion to Jesus in Q." He points out again the centrality of Jesus in Q. Jesus is not portrayed in Q as just some teacher of generic wisdom. Rather "in Jesus the kingdom of God came to decisive eschatological expression" (245). Kloppenborg would agree with H on this one (contra Burton Mack, for example). Jesus is the polarizing issue in Q.
Hurtado fascinatingly invokes the concept of Q's "narrative world" also. That world assumes, for example, a good deal of the OT story. There's a doctoral dissertation in the making, if it hasn't been done already! H further believes that "those who composed Q fully expected readers to bring this 'story' [broader story of Jesus], which we might term the 'enabling narrative,' to their reading of this text" (247). H thus follows those who believe Q to have a somewhat narrative framework, even if a very basic one.
The most frequent Christological term in Q is "son of man," but it does not function as a confessional title. The term Christ does not appear in Q. Lord does not obviously function in its highest NT sense in Q. H tries his best to here hints of a "high Christology" here, but I think all we really have is an implied sense that Jesus is the Messiah. The highest title Jesus has in Q is "Son of God," implied by Satan during the temptation.
And that's about it. Hurtado does speculate on "religious life in Q." His basic claim is that Q was "an instructional text that seems intended to encourage and help shape discipleship to Jesus" (255).
It is with some melancholy that I read this chapter. First, I teach Paul's writings, Hebrews, and the General Epistles here at IWU. I don't get to study the gospels in depth in the course of teaching. But even then, Q is not of particular interest or value in my evangelical circles. It is a kind of "strong historical meat." The Surgeon General has suggested that it can cause vomiting and diarrheia.
Then again, the whole Q discussion is frustrating, despite the amount of scholarship that has been devoted to it. How would we know whether some unique Matthean material belonged to it that Luke didn't include? Visa versa, how would we know that Matthew didn't include some Q material that is in Luke? Further, what if Mark has some Q material that isn't assigned to Q because it isn't unique to Matthew and Luke?
As is often said, the reality of the gospels' composition is bound to have been far more complicated than you could sell as a theory. I personally like the idea that there was a Q1 that was the original Aramaic collection of Jesus' sayings that Papias attributes to Matthew. No one buys this these days (although I think Dale Allison is game). Then maybe a Q2 that was a Greek version of it that is the focus of current scholarly discussion.
But Mark Goodacre probably has a piece of the puzzle too. I personally am very open to Luke knowing both Matthew and Mark. But alas, it's hard to see my life ever affording me an opportunity to pursue these sorts of things... Maybe after retirement...
The second half of the chapter begins with a section on "The Argument from Silence." H claims that "an argument from silence is only as strong as the alleged 'silence' can be shown to be conspicuous and difficult to account for except on the explanation one offers" (239). But he doesn't believe the silence of Q on the resurrection or Jesus' salvific death is significant.
For one thing, "Q presumes ... acquaintance with tradition about Jesus beyond what it relates" (240). The purpose of Q, he thinks, was as an "instructional text intended primarily to call for obedience to Jesus, and aiming to 'position' that obedience by its eschatological significance and outcome" (242). The author thus focuses on Jesus' death as an inspiring example rather than as atoning. "But this choice hardly indicates an ignorance of, or lack of interest in, other construals of Jesus' death."
The last part of the chapter then gets to Hurtado's real interest, "Devotion to Jesus in Q." He points out again the centrality of Jesus in Q. Jesus is not portrayed in Q as just some teacher of generic wisdom. Rather "in Jesus the kingdom of God came to decisive eschatological expression" (245). Kloppenborg would agree with H on this one (contra Burton Mack, for example). Jesus is the polarizing issue in Q.
Hurtado fascinatingly invokes the concept of Q's "narrative world" also. That world assumes, for example, a good deal of the OT story. There's a doctoral dissertation in the making, if it hasn't been done already! H further believes that "those who composed Q fully expected readers to bring this 'story' [broader story of Jesus], which we might term the 'enabling narrative,' to their reading of this text" (247). H thus follows those who believe Q to have a somewhat narrative framework, even if a very basic one.
The most frequent Christological term in Q is "son of man," but it does not function as a confessional title. The term Christ does not appear in Q. Lord does not obviously function in its highest NT sense in Q. H tries his best to here hints of a "high Christology" here, but I think all we really have is an implied sense that Jesus is the Messiah. The highest title Jesus has in Q is "Son of God," implied by Satan during the temptation.
And that's about it. Hurtado does speculate on "religious life in Q." His basic claim is that Q was "an instructional text that seems intended to encourage and help shape discipleship to Jesus" (255).
It is with some melancholy that I read this chapter. First, I teach Paul's writings, Hebrews, and the General Epistles here at IWU. I don't get to study the gospels in depth in the course of teaching. But even then, Q is not of particular interest or value in my evangelical circles. It is a kind of "strong historical meat." The Surgeon General has suggested that it can cause vomiting and diarrheia.
Then again, the whole Q discussion is frustrating, despite the amount of scholarship that has been devoted to it. How would we know whether some unique Matthean material belonged to it that Luke didn't include? Visa versa, how would we know that Matthew didn't include some Q material that is in Luke? Further, what if Mark has some Q material that isn't assigned to Q because it isn't unique to Matthew and Luke?
As is often said, the reality of the gospels' composition is bound to have been far more complicated than you could sell as a theory. I personally like the idea that there was a Q1 that was the original Aramaic collection of Jesus' sayings that Papias attributes to Matthew. No one buys this these days (although I think Dale Allison is game). Then maybe a Q2 that was a Greek version of it that is the focus of current scholarly discussion.
But Mark Goodacre probably has a piece of the puzzle too. I personally am very open to Luke knowing both Matthew and Mark. But alas, it's hard to see my life ever affording me an opportunity to pursue these sorts of things... Maybe after retirement...
Friday, August 01, 2008
Friday Review: Hurtado 7, Chapter 4, Part 1
Today we begin chaper 4 of Larry Hurtado's, Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity. The chapter is titled, "Q and Early Devotion to Jesus."
First Hurtado assumes Q's existence, with no disrespect to those who disagree. Q here is thought to be mainly a sayings collection, probably composed in Greek, of some 3500-4000 words. He considers John Kloppenborg (Verbin) to be the best argued case for a Q community and for stages of Q development, so Hurtado primarily engages Kloppenborg's work.
The sticking point is the fact that Q apparently had "no narrative of Jesus' crucifixion, no saying where Jesus directly predicts his death, and no explicit references to Jesus' death as an atoning event or to his resurrection" (217).
Secondly, Hurtado agrees with some of Kloppenborg's critiques of some thinking on Q. For example, it shows no Gnostic proclivities (against H. Koester). And it is not a book of general wisdom, but Jesus is seen as the authoritative vehicle of God's revelatory purposes. "So it is incorrect to think of the 'Q people' simply circulating aphorisms of timeless value among themselves, and experimenting with a countercultural lifestyle, without much in the way of recognizably religious motivations" (221).
Thirdly, however, Hurtado disagrees with Kloppenborg's view of Q's Christology. K "posits circles in which Jesus' death was not interpreted as redemptive, and his vindication was not conceived in terms of resurrection" (223). Rather, K believes Q understood Jesus' death as the death of a prophet. Jesus is someone to be imitated, not someone who dies for our sins.
Next, Hurtado begins his critique. He finds it implausible to suggest that a Q community would not know about the fact that other Christians believed Jesus' death to have saving value. This is Kloppenborg's position: "Q simply does not know them" (230). Otherwise, K would presumably have to explain why Q does not engage with these ideas--to discount them if it disagreed or to affirm if it agreed. Rather H thinks the Hellenists are a prime source for Q's origins.
As he extends his critique, Hurtado notes that Q was more likely created for wide circulation. After all, how did Matthew and Luke get hold of it? Then Hurtado makes what I think is a very effective argument. If we look at texts like 1 Thessalonians 1:9-10; Romans 1:3-4; Philippians 2:6-11 and so forth, we do not have all the elements of saving death, crucifixion, resurrection, exaltation, second coming present at the same time. Different passages emphasize different things.
Of course with Q we have 225-250 verses without references to resurrection and so forth, but H's point is that different contexts suit different points.
That's a little more than half the chapter. The rest perhaps tomorrow...
First Hurtado assumes Q's existence, with no disrespect to those who disagree. Q here is thought to be mainly a sayings collection, probably composed in Greek, of some 3500-4000 words. He considers John Kloppenborg (Verbin) to be the best argued case for a Q community and for stages of Q development, so Hurtado primarily engages Kloppenborg's work.
The sticking point is the fact that Q apparently had "no narrative of Jesus' crucifixion, no saying where Jesus directly predicts his death, and no explicit references to Jesus' death as an atoning event or to his resurrection" (217).
Secondly, Hurtado agrees with some of Kloppenborg's critiques of some thinking on Q. For example, it shows no Gnostic proclivities (against H. Koester). And it is not a book of general wisdom, but Jesus is seen as the authoritative vehicle of God's revelatory purposes. "So it is incorrect to think of the 'Q people' simply circulating aphorisms of timeless value among themselves, and experimenting with a countercultural lifestyle, without much in the way of recognizably religious motivations" (221).
Thirdly, however, Hurtado disagrees with Kloppenborg's view of Q's Christology. K "posits circles in which Jesus' death was not interpreted as redemptive, and his vindication was not conceived in terms of resurrection" (223). Rather, K believes Q understood Jesus' death as the death of a prophet. Jesus is someone to be imitated, not someone who dies for our sins.
Next, Hurtado begins his critique. He finds it implausible to suggest that a Q community would not know about the fact that other Christians believed Jesus' death to have saving value. This is Kloppenborg's position: "Q simply does not know them" (230). Otherwise, K would presumably have to explain why Q does not engage with these ideas--to discount them if it disagreed or to affirm if it agreed. Rather H thinks the Hellenists are a prime source for Q's origins.
As he extends his critique, Hurtado notes that Q was more likely created for wide circulation. After all, how did Matthew and Luke get hold of it? Then Hurtado makes what I think is a very effective argument. If we look at texts like 1 Thessalonians 1:9-10; Romans 1:3-4; Philippians 2:6-11 and so forth, we do not have all the elements of saving death, crucifixion, resurrection, exaltation, second coming present at the same time. Different passages emphasize different things.
Of course with Q we have 225-250 verses without references to resurrection and so forth, but H's point is that different contexts suit different points.
That's a little more than half the chapter. The rest perhaps tomorrow...
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