Exploring the Scripturesque: Jewish Texts and their Christian Contexts (Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism)

Exploring the Scripturesque

Supplements to the

Journal for the Study of Judaism Editor

Hindy Najman Department and Centre for Study of Religion at the University of Toronto Associate Editors

Florentino García Martínez Qumran Institute, University of Groningen

Benjamin G. Wright, III Department of Religion Studies, Lehigh University Advisory Board

j.j. collins – j. duhaime p.w. van der horst – a. klostergaard petersen j.t.a.g.m. van ruiten – j. sievers g. stemberger – e.j.c. tigchelaar – j. tromp VOLUME 137

Exploring the Scripturesque Jewish Texts and their Christian Contexts

By

Robert Alan Kraft

LEIDEN • BOSTON 2009

This book is printed on acid-free paper. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kraft, Robert A. Exploring the scripturesque : Jewish texts and their Christian contexts / by Robert Alan Kraft. p. cm. — (Supplements to the Journal for the study of Judaism; v. 137) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-17010-0 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Apocryphal books (Old Testament)—Relation to the New Testament. 2. Bible. N.T.—Relation to the Old Testament. 3. Bible. O.T.—Criticism, interpretation, etc. 4. Bible. N.T.—Criticism, interpretation, etc. 5. Judaism—Relations—Christianity. 6. Christianity and other religions—Judaism. 7. Judaism—History—Post-exilic period, 586 B.C.–210 A.D. 8. Christianity—Origin. 9. Judaism—Controversial literature—History and criticism. I. Title. II. Series. BS1700.K73 2009 229’.9061—dc22 2009020448

ISSN: 1384-2161 ISBN: 978 90 04 17010 0 Copyright 2009 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. printed in the netherlands

CONTENTS Introduction ........................................................................................

vii

PART ONE

GENERAL CONTEXT AND METHODOLOGY Chapter One. The Pseudepigrapha in Christianity .....................

3

Chapter Two. The Pseudepigrapha and Christianity, Revisited: Setting the Stage and Framing Some Central Questions .......

35

Chapter Three. Christian Transmission of Greek Jewish Scriptures: A Methodological Probe .........................................

61

Chapter Four. The Weighing of the Parts: Pivots and Pitfalls in the Study of Early Judaisms and their Early Christian Offspring ........................................................................................

83

Chapter Five. Combined Review: The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, Edited by James H. Charlesworth The Apocryphal Old Testament, Edited by H.F.D. Sparks .....

93

PART TWO

SELECTED SPECIFIC STUDIES Chapter Six. Reassessing the “Recensional Problem” in Testament of Abraham ................................................................

109

Chapter Seven. “Ezra” Materials in Judaism and Christianity ....................................................................................

129

Chapter Eight. Towards Assessing the Latin Text of “5 Ezra”: The Christian Connection ...........................................................

149

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contents

Chapter Nine. Enoch and Written Authorities in Testaments of the 12 Patriarchs .......................................................................

163

Chapter Ten. The Dialogue of Timothy and Aquila and its Echoes of Judaism ........................................................................

173

PART THREE

SOME RELATED STUDIES Chapter Eleven. Pliny on Essenes, Pliny on Jews .......................

199

Chapter Twelve a–b. Philo on Seth, Philo on Enoch .................

209

Chapter Thirteen. Philo’s Treatment of the Number Seven in On Creation ...................................................................................

217

Chapter Fourteen. Philo and the Sabbath Crisis: Alexandrian Jewish Politics and the Dating of Philo’s Works .............................................................................................

239

Chapter Fifteen. Tiberius Julius Alexander and the Crisis in Alexandria according to Josephus .............................................

249

Review and Prospects ........................................................................

261

Comprehensive Index (with Bibliography, Abbreviations, URLs) ..............................................................................................

263

INTRODUCTION When Hindy Najman proposed that I contribute a volume of essays to this series, I was at first resistant, since I would want to update and to some extent coordinate the materials, which would take significant time and energy, and my own commitments to publication had been, since around 1990, to electronic distribution. Nevertheless, in addition to Hindy’s powers of persuasion and her promise to provide some graduate student help at the initial stage, there was a certain logic to gathering together some of the materials that had appeared over the years and presenting a more coherent package that could highlight their attempted contributions to scholarly discussion. These essays span about a third of a century and focus on interfaces between Jewish materials and the worlds in which they were transmitted and/or perceived, especially Christian contexts. The lead essay, which was first delivered to the 1976 SNTS congress at Duke University, spent most of its early life as an electronic publication (on Ioudaios from 1990, updated version on http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/rs/ rak/publics/pseudepig/pseudepold) before Bill Adler and John Reeves rescued it for hardcopy appearance.1 Some of my colleagues jokingly spoke of it as one of the most cited non-publications (conventionally speaking, of course) of which they were aware. In any event, it became a conventionally published essay in 1994 with filled out and updated footnotes by John Reeves, which led to further reflection and updating in a presentation I gave at the Tel Aviv Conference of the Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas (SNTS) in 2000.2 For the present purposes, I’ve attempted to supply cross references and cut down on any overt overlaps between those two initial essays in hopes that they will illustrate some progress more than mere repetition. They are, in many ways, the heart and backbone of this collection. For the title, I’ve adopted the term “scripturesque” to cover all those materials and traditions, whether they later became canonical or not, that seem to have been respected

1

Tracing the Threads: Studies in the Vitality of Jewish Pseudepigrapha (ed. John C. Reeves; SBLEJL 6; Atlanta: Scholars, 1994) 55–86. 2 “Setting the Stage and Framing Some Central Questions,” JSJ 32 (2001) 371–395 (below, Chapter Two).

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introduction

as “scriptural” by some individuals or communities in the period prior to (or apart from) the development of an exclusivistic canonical consciousness in some Jewish and Christian circles. Also of a more general nature, providing further conceptual context, are the essays on the “parting of the ways,” the review of Charlesworth and Sparks, and the survey of early Christian accusations of Jewish textual tampering. Although these appeared originally over a similarly long period of time, the need for adjustment to the present format has been relatively minor, apart from inserting various cross references and occasionally adding more recent bibliographical references as appropriate. Most of the other essays gathered here deal with details, whether for those unknown authors and compilers of the materials here called “pseudepigrapha” (a category designation that I have come to view as inappropriate and/or misleading, without yet finding a more satisfactory substitute) or for known authors such as Philo and Josephus. Some of the sections started out as electronic publications of a quite unpolished nature (e.g., the concluding section on the Dialogue of Timothy and Aquila, based on the minutes from the Philadelphia Seminar on Christian Origins in 1970–1971, here combined with more recent material), while others were more formal hardcopy print publications. I’ve attempted to provide some sort of historical context for each, as well as a bit of new “glue” where needed to pull things together. Almost all of the essays in this anthology have been (and will continue to be) available electronically through my web page, and in the electronic versions of some of these materials, different colors have been used to distinguish “original” from updates and modifications. Since this sort of approach does not seem to be practical or desirable in this print form, the hardcopy reader will not be burdened with such developmental mapping. One exception: where my own hardcopy publications are represented, the original pagination is indicated in double square brackets, although there has been no attempt to retain the original hardcopy footnote numbers. A word is in order about my desire to update the information in the notes—and sometimes also in the text—with reference to other (especially more recent) relevant publications and related materials. I began to do this note by note, but soon realized that at almost every point, it would be appropriate to refer to the extensive bibliography

introduction

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compiled in print form by Lorenzo DiTommaso3 and also to say something like “pursue these topics through your internet search engine” (e.g., google.com). The internet is full of additional information (and sometimes misinformation)—and especially bibliography—that can help the reader to fill out the pictures being presented, and there are many responsible sites to facilitate the task, such as the online “Research Guide for Christianity” from the Yale University Divinity School Library at http://www.library.yale.edu/div/indexgde.htm. Frequent reference will also be made to the links found on my own web page at http://ccat.sas .upenn.edu/rs/rak/kraft.html, especially for my own electronic publications and projects. The explicit listing of internet addresses can become tedious in printed form, and for that I apologize. Hopefully the listing of these materials in the comprehensive index will help those who are interested. The electronic version of these essays is more convenient in this regard, since it can include clickable links without the redundancy of the visible internet addresses. And for readers with access to JSTOR (the online Journal STORage project), many of the articles cited herein are available online, along with reviews of many of the books.

3 Lorenzo DiTommaso, A Bibliography of Pseudepigrapha Research 1850–1999 (JSPSup 39; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001)—unfortunately not (yet [2008]) available online.

PART ONE

GENERAL CONTEXT AND METHODOLOGY

CHAPTER ONE

THE PSEUDEPIGRAPHA IN CHRISTIANITY1 In autumn of 1975, I was asked to prepare a paper for the 1976 annual meeting of the Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas (SNTS) at Duke University on “The Christianity of the Pseudepigrapha,” a topic closely related to my sabbatical project for 1975/76. After struggling with this assignment from a variety of perspectives, I finally decided to modify the title to “Christianity and the so-called Jewish Pseudepigrapha,” or more concisely, “The Pseudepigrapha in Christianity.” Thus I have chosen to deal less with precise details within particular pseudepigrapha, and more with questions of methodology that arise in the study of these writings.2

[1.1]

1 Special credit and appreciation are owed to John C. Reeves (then [1994] of Winthrop University, now [2008] University of North Carolina in Charlotte), whose patience and diligence in filling out my roughly outlined footnotes and submitting them for my final revision and/or approval made it possible for this more fully documented form of the essay to be included in the anthology that he has edited entitled Tracing the Threads: Studies in the Vitality of Jewish Pseudepigrapha (SBLEJL 6; Atlanta: Scholars 1994) 55–86. Any variations and additions in the notes of the electronic version, printed here, represent modifications subsequent to that March 1994 print version. The paragraph numbering represents an attempt to facilitate reference to the electronic version, in which normal hardcopy pagination (enclosed in double brackets, colored red in the electronic format) is less obvious. The footnotes in what follows have been significantly expanded, and no attempt is made to correlate their numbering with that of the 1994 print version. 2 This essay had rested uneasily in my files for more than 15 years, waiting for me to find/take time to annotate it! As the years passed, I considered simply rewriting and updating it. But now that it has been “dusted off” at long last, I have decided to leave the text basically as it was delivered in 1976, and to do all the significant updating in the notes. Otherwise, its original flavor and (at least to me) excitement will have been diluted and sometimes simply lost. Much relevant research has appeared in the intervening years, of which the footnotes attempt to give some notice. In various particulars, the essay does need to be rewritten today [1994] and periodically. But in its general thrust, its challenge to responsible scholarship still stands. In the footnotes, OTP refers to The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (ed. James H. Charlesworth; 2 vols.; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983–85; see below, Chapter Six), and EJMI to Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters (ed. R.A. Kraft and G.W.E. Nickelsburg; Philadelphia/Atlanta: Fortress/Scholars Press, 1986).

4

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I must confess at the outset that I am relatively unhappy about some of the directions that 20th century scholarship has been traveling in the study of this rather amorphous collection of writings that have been preserved to the modern period primarily by Christian efforts but are attributed to or closely identified with various heroes and heroines of pre-Christian Jewish tradition. Not that I think many of the conclusions reached in pseudepigrapha scholarship are necessarily wrong; on the contrary, I believe that much modern work is of great scholarly significance and suspect that most of the conclusions are relatively accurate. By and large, these [[56]] “pseudepigraphical” writings ought to be examined for any light they may be able to throw on the pre-rabbinic Jewish situation. Certainly we need to use all available help to illuminate that shadowy and variegated period! Nevertheless, I am unhappy about the relatively uncontrolled and hasty approach pursued by most scholars in sifting these materials for clues regarding Judaism. I am convinced that there is also a great deal to learn about Christianity from careful study of the “pseudepigrapha,” and that in most instances it is premature to distil from these writings information about pre-rabbinic Judaism before they are thoroughly examined for their significance as witnesses to Christian interest and activities.3

[1.2]

Problem Areas In a nutshell, my discontent centers on the following areas of study which seem to me to be inadequately pursued in much current investigation of the pseudepigrapha:

[2.1]

3 I am not the first to make such observations or to think them of foundational importance. Note, for example, Marinus de Jonge’s treatment of The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Study of their Text, Composition, and Origin (Leiden: Brill, 1953), and the prize essay contest sponsored with his encouragement by the Teyler Foundation at Haarlem (The Netherlands) in 1985, on the subject “An investigation concerning the use and transmission of originally Jewish writings (and/or writings incorporating much Jewish traditional material) in Early Christianity,” which in turn made special reference to such discussions as: J. Jervell, “Ein Interpolator interpretiert. Zu der christlichen Bearbeitung der Testamente der Zwölf Patriarchen,” Studien zu den Testamenten der Zwölf Patriarchen (ed. C. Burchard, J. Jervell, and J. Thomas; Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft 36; Berlin: Töpelmann, 1969) 30–61; or H.W. Hollander and M. de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Commentary (Leiden: Brill, 1985), Introduction ##8–9. Subsequently, the discussion became the focus of the monograph by James R. Davila, The Provenance of the Pseudepigrapha: Jewish, Christian, Or Other? (Leiden: Brill, 2005), among other relevant studies.

the pseudepigrapha in christianity

5

1. Comparative Linguistic Analysis. Little if any systematic attention has been given to how the vocabulary and syntax employed in the preserved manuscripts and forms of a given pseudepigraphon relate to vocabulary and syntax found in other writings from approximately the same time in the same language. As we all know, languages change over the years and often display local variations. To what extent is it possible to classify the Greek of a particular pseudepigraphon as hellenistic Egyptian, or as early byzantine from Antioch, or perhaps even as early modern? What post-hellenistic linguistic features recur in various Greek pseudepigrapha? What is the history of transmission and translation of these materials into such languages as Latin, Coptic, Syriac, Arabic, Ethiopic, Armenian and Old Slavic, to mention only the most obvious? What can be learned about the most recent stages of development in a writing by careful attention to these linguistic matters?4 I see this as an avenue for discovering more precisely who was interested in these materials at what periods. Is it possible to identify in time and space schools of revisors or translators? Insofar as details of [[57]] linguistic analysis are difficult to convey satisfactorily in an oral presentation, I will not elaborate on these matters here [in 1976]. But this approach will be facilitated considerably by the increase in relevant linguistic tools such as Lampe’s Patristic Greek Lexicon, 5 [2.2]

4

It has come to be expected that scholars worry about whether the original language of any given writing was Hebrew or Aramaic or Greek or whatever, but few have concerned themselves with the language(s) in which the text has survived as a piece of valuable historical information in its own right. Some earlier authors comment on this type of problem, but do not exploit it fully: for example, M.R. James describes the language of “The Apocalypse of Sedrach” as “neo-Greek” since it “degenerates not seldom into modern Greek” (Apocrypha Anecdota 1 [Texts and Studies 2.3; Cambridge: CUP, 1893] 127–28; see further below, pp. 122–24), but is mostly concerned about parallels to earlier materials in language and ideas. (S. Agourides, in OTP 1.606, also simply notes in passing the “late” linguistic features of that text.) For the early Greek translations of Jewish scriptures, H. St. J. Thackeray attempted to establish some linguistic-geographical correlations in his 1920 Schweich Lectures published as The Septuagint and Jewish Worship: A Study in Origins (London: H. Milford, 1921, 1923 [2nd ed.]), but not many have pursued that sort of approach further. In more recent times, see David Satran, “Daniel: Seer, Philosopher, Holy Man,” Ideal Figures in Ancient Judaism: Profiles and Paradigms (ed. J.J. Collins and G.W.E. Nickelsburg; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1980) 33–48, and his unpublished PhD dissertation at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, Early Jewish and Christian Interpretation of the Fourth Chapter of the Book of Daniel (1985). 5 A Patristic Greek Lexicon (G.W.H. Lampe, ed.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1961).

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Gignac’s Grammar of Greek Papyri,6 the various concordances and lexicons in preparation covering such materials as Philo, Josephus, and the Greek pseudepigrapha themselves, not to mention the ambitious computer-based Thesaurus Linguae Graece (TLG) project or the proposed Septuagint lexicon.7 Methods such as R. Martin’s “syntactical analysis” of Greek translated from Hebrew or Aramaic also should prove helpful when adapted for use with the Greek pseudepigrapha.8

6 Francis Thomas Gignac, A Grammar of the Greek Papyri of the Roman and Byzantine Periods (2 vols.; Testi e documenti per lo studio dell’antichita 55; Milano: Istituto Editoriale Cisalpino-La Goliardica 1976–81). 7 Efforts and products along these lines have multiplied in recent times, especially with the advent of computer-based texts and tools. The ability to search and analyze the data interactively is rapidly coming to replace the static concordances and linguistic aids of the past, and such “hardcopy” tools can in any event be produced more easily now with computer assistance—as for example, A.-M. Denis, Concordance grecque des pseudepigraphes d’Ancien Testament (Louvain-la-Neuve: Universite catholique de Louvain, Institut orientaliste, 1987); also the various publications in “The Computer Bible” series edited by J. Arthur Baird et al. (published by Biblical Research Associates, College of Wooster, Ohio). Now that the magnificent TLG data bank of Greek literature is almost complete (TLG updated CD-ROM “D” appeared in 1993; the material became available online for subscribers after CD-ROM “E” appeared around 1997), along with pioneering efforts in more detailed analysis (such as the Computer Assisted Tools for Septuagint Studies [= CATSS] project, co-directed by Emanuel Tov [Hebrew University] and myself; see the Packard Humanities Institute [PHI] CD-ROM 1, 1987; PHI CD-ROM 5.3, 1992; PHI CD-ROM 7, 1996), major advances in comparative linguistic research can be expected. For some publications related to the CATSS project, see the online list. Josephus and Philo are both available in the TLG data bank, along with virtually all Greek literature through the 6th century CE and beyond, and can be searched for concording and other purposes quite easily. Peder Borgen (Trondheim, Norway) also has created an electronic Philo data bank for the production of concordances and other tools—see Borgen with Keare Fuglseth and Roald Skarsten, The Philo Index: A Complete Greek Word Index to the Writings of Philo of Alexandria (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999). On Josephus, see also the more traditional tool edited by K.H. Rengstorf, A Complete Concordance to Flavius Josephus (4 vols.; Leiden: Brill, 1973–83). I am not sure where the related Josephus lexicon project begun by Thackeray and Marcus (4 fascicules; Kohut Memorial Foundation; Paris, Guenther 1930–1955) now stands, after the death in 1986 of its continuator, Horst Moehring (Brown University). A team of Australian scholars, including John A.L. Lee and Gregory Horsley, is engaged in the creation of a new Moulton-Milligan lexicon to the NT, with computer assistance. The classic collection of Latin Christian literature, Migne’s Patrologia Latina (1844–65), is also searchable online for subscribers to the Chadwyk-Healy data bank. For other examples of computer projects and tools, see John Hughes, Bits, Bytes, & Biblical Studies (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1987), and more recently The Humanities Computing Yearbook: 1989–90 (ed. Ian Lancashire; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991). The online HUMANIST discussion group, under the guidance of Willard McCarty, celebrated its 20th anniversary in 2007—its archives can provide further relevant information and bibliography. 8 Raymond A. Martin, Syntactical Evidence of Semitic Sources in Greek Documents (SBLSCS 3; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1974); idem, “Syntax Criticism of the Testament

the pseudepigrapha in christianity

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I am less familiar with the resources available for work in other relevant eastern Christian languages, but suspect that the situation there is not more encouraging. 2. A second, closely related area of concern is The Role of the Pseudepigrapha in Christian Thought. Why was a particular writing preserved and transmitted? By whom? For whom? How was the writing understood and interpreted? With what other writings was it associated? What can we learn about Christianity from each document, and especially about non-Latin and non-Greek Christianity? In what follows, I intend to explore this approach in greater detail. 3. A third problem area is the Formulation of Satisfactory Hypotheses Regarding Origins and Transmission of Pseudepigrapha. If a writing has been preserved only by Christians, as is normally true for the pseudepigrapha, how strong is the possibility that the writing actually was compiled in its preserved form(s) by a Christian? To what extent is it possible that some or all of the supposedly Jewish contents are actually Christian in origin? What are suitable criteria for distinguishing “Jewish” from “Christian” elements? Is it possible that Christians appropriated the document or some of its Jewish contents from Jews in the medieval/byzantine period? What do we know of Jewish-Christian contacts after 135 ce?9 What do we know of Christian writing and reading habits

of Abraham,” Studies on the Testament of Abraham (ed. G.W.E. Nickelsburg; SBLSCS 6; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1976) 95–120. See also Benjamin G. Wright, “A Note on the Statistical Analysis of Septuagintal Syntax,” JBL 104 (1985) 111–14. 9 See Marcel Simon, Verus Israel: Étude sur les relations entre chrétiens et juifs dans l’empire romain (135–425) (Paris: E. de Boccard, 1948; 2d ed. 1964 with a “postscriptum”); English translation, Verus Israel: A Study of the Relations Between Christians and Jews in the Roman Empire (135–425) (trans. H. McKeating; New York: OUP, 1986); John G. Gager, The Origins of Anti-Semitism: Attitudes Toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian Antiquity (Oxford: OUP, 1985) 113–91. Regarding specific Church Fathers, see A.L. Williams, Justin Martyr: The Dialogue with Trypho (London: SPCK, 1930), esp. the Introduction; Melito of Sardis, On Pascha and Fragments (ed. S.G. Hall; Oxford: Clarendon, 1979) and more recently I. Angerstorfer, Melito und das Judentum (Regensburg: Universität Regensburg, 1986); David P. Efroymson, Tertullian’s Anti-Judaism and its Role in His Theology (PhD dissertation, Temple University, 1976); idem, “The Patristic Connection,” Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity (ed. Alan Davies; New York: Paulist Press, 1979) 98–117; N.R.M. de Lange, Origen and the Jews (Cambridge: CUP, 1976); Robert L. Wilken, Judaism and the Early Christian Mind: A Study of Cyril of Alexandria’s Exegesis and Theology (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971); idem, John Chrysostom and the Jews: Rhetoric and Reality in the Late 4th Century (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983). Similar studies with their

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during the first millennium of Christian existence? What are acceptable criteria for the identification of “glosses,” “interpolations,” “redactions” and “recensions,” and how do [[58]] these types of literary activity differ from each other?10 Who translated these materials from one language to another, for what reasons, and under what conditions? Again, a more detailed look at crucial aspects of this problem area will follow. In short, there seems to be a wide spectrum of important issues on which little attention has been focused and for which little precise information is presently available—issues of primary importance that require close examination before a suitably careful and consistent use can be made of “pseudepigrapha” for purposes of reconstructing preChristian, or at least pre-rabbinic Judaism. Recent developments in the study of Christian and Jewish history and literature offer promising rewards in this regard. I have already mentioned some of the more helpful tools for linguistic study. The fantastic increase in the number of known manuscripts and, through inexpensive mail-order microfilms, in their accessibility, will hopefully lead to significant new insights about the literature that is already well known as well as providing access to hitherto little known or unknown writings and traditions.11 Current interest in the relationships between emerging orthodoxy and its heterodox competitors in both Christian and Jewish settings12 also

[2.3]

focus on e.g., Epiphanius and Jerome (see the PhD dissertation in Hebrew by Hillel Newman, “Jerome and the Jews,” Hebrew University, 1997), would also be illuminating. For further bibliography and updated information, look for the relevant terms through an internet search engine. 10 For further details, see my article “Reassessing the ‘Recensional Problem’ in Testament of Abraham” (included below, Chapter Six). 11 In addition to various efforts at cataloguing existing manuscripts (e.g., the project of Marcel Richard at Paris), note the development of the Ancient Biblical Manuscript Center at Claremont and the Hill Monastic Library Project in Minnesota. But in general, the interest in microform seems to have waned somewhat, or at least is being challenged by the development of computer technologies capable, among other things, of capturing (e.g., on CD-ROM) and even transmitting (on the international electronic networks) digitized images (equivalent to color photographs), enhancing and otherwise manipulating the images, and linking images and transcribed text along with other pertinent items in a “hypertext” electronic environment. A growing number of older and newer editions and translations of ancient texts are finding their way into electronic collections and archives in this new technological world. On electronic resources and developments in general, see Lancashire, Yearbook (above n. 7). Examples of online images abound, easily located through internet search engines and online lists. 12 There have been a number of recent works relating to the multiplicity of forms of Judaism in the Greco-Roman world. See, e.g., the “new Schürer,” G. Vermes, F. Millar, and M. Goodman, eds., Schürer’s The History of the Jewish People in the

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provides a healthy context for reexamining the various pseudepigrapha, and the growing awareness among students of religious history of the possible value of insights and approaches drawn from anthropological-sociological studies should not be ignored. (I think especially of studies of so-called “millennial/millenarian movements” in various times and places, as this may apply to the production and use of various apocalyptic writings.)13 Contemporary Use of the Term “Pseudepigrapha” [3.1] The term “pseudepigrapha” is not a precise term in contemporary scholarly usage. It has become useful primarily by default, and against the theological background of the discussion of the “Old Testament” canon among Christians. Especially in the byzantine Greek church, the traditional term for the literature with which we are concerned was “apocrypha”—as distinct from “canonical” and “ecclesiastical” [[59]] literature recommended for use in Christian churches. But modern protestant scholarship came to restrict the term “apocrypha,” used with reference to Jewish literature, to those particular writings or portions of writings accepted as “deutero-canonical” by Roman Catholics (with

Age of Jesus Christ (4 vols. in 3; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1973–87); John J. Collins, Between Athens and Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in the Hellenistic Diaspora (New York: Crossroad, 1983); S.J.D. Cohen, From the Maccabees to the Mishnah (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987); E.J. Bickerman, The Jews in the Greek Age (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1988); Gabriele Boccaccini, Middle Judaism: Jewish Thought, 300 B.C.E. to 200 C.E. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991); L.L. Grabbe, Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (2 vols.; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992); for a more traditional synthesis of the same evidence, see L.H. Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993). A survey and analysis of mid 20th century scholarship on Judaism to about 1980 can be found in EJMI. More recent internet information abounds also on this subject. For some recent studies on varieties of early Christianity, see the following note. 13 For an application of such insights to early Christianity, see John G. Gager, Kingdom and Community: The Social World of Early Christianity (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1975), and the literature cited there; idem, Religious Studies Review 5/3 (1979) 174–80; W.D. Davies, “From Schwietzer to Scholem: Reflections on Sabbatai Svi,” JBL 95 (1976) 529–58; G. Theissen, The Sociology of Early Palestinian Christianity (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978); idem, The Social Setting of Pauline Christianity (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982); D.J. Harrington, “Sociological Concepts and the Early Church: A Decade of Research,” TS 41 (1980) 181–90; W.A. Meeks, The First Urban Christians: The Social World of the Apostle Paul (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983); R.A. Horsley, Jesus and the Spiral of Violence (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987); idem, Sociology and the Jesus Movement (New York: Crossroad, 1989). On millennarianism, see further below, n. 54.

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some ambiguity regarding Prayer of Manasseh and 4 Ezra/2 Esdras) but not included among the classical Jewish canonical scriptures. Thus some other term was needed to designate works attributed to or associated with revered persons of pre-Christian Jewish tradition that were considered neither canonical nor “apocryphal” in the limited sense of “OT Apocrypha.” The term “pseudepigrapha” has come to serve this function in relation to ostensibly Jewish material, although most scholars have retained the more traditional sense of the term “apocrypha” in dealing with so-called “NT Apocrypha” (not “pseudepigrapha”!). The exact range of items included as “pseudepigrapha” also varies considerably.14 The standard older editions by E. Kautzsch (1900) and R.H. Charles (1913) agree in employing the term in a very restricted sense for about a dozen or so writings including the Letter of Aristeas, 4 Ezra and the Psalms of Solomon. Charles even published Pirke Avot, Aḥikar and the Zadokite fragment among the pseudepigrapha. At the opposite end of the scale, with regard to inclusiveness, is P. Riessler’s German edition of some 61 allegedly “non canonical ancient Jewish writings” (1928) other than Philo and Josephus. Judging from such late 20th century projects as the Pseudepigrapha Veteris Testamenti graece, edited by A.-M. Denis and M. de Jonge, or M. Philonenko’s Textes et Études series, or the history of H.F.D. Sparks’ long awaited British edition (see its preface!), or J.H. Charlesworth’s ambitious Duke-Doubleday edition [see reviews below, Chapter Five], or the work of the SBL Pseudepigrapha Group, the inclusive use of the term now predominates. Although I am not particularly fond of the term “pseudepigrapha,” I also employ it in a radically inclusive sense to indicate writings attributed to or associated with persons known primarily from Jewish scriptural [3.2]

14 The editions and monographs cited in this paragraph are well known in the field. Recent literature that provides a larger context for this discussion includes EJMI (above, n. 2), with standard abbreviations and an appendix on editions; G.W.E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature Between the Bible and the Mishnah: A Historical and Literary Introduction (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981; revised edition 2005); Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period (ed. M.E. Stone; CRINT; Assen and Philadelphia: Van Gorcum and Fortress, 1984); and the more recent anthologies such as La Bible: écrits intertestamentaires (ed. A. Dupont-Sommer and M. Philonenko; Paris: Gallimard, 1987), Charlesworth’s OTP, and The Apocryphal Old Testament (AOT, ed. H.F.D. Sparks; Oxford: Clarendon, 1984). For a review article on the last mentioned works, see M.E. Stone and R.A. Kraft, Religious Studies Review 14/2 (1988) 111–17 and below, Chapter Five. Extensive bibliography can also be found in DiTommaso, Bibliography (2001) and, of course, online.

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tradition, and a few other similar writings such as the “Sibylline Oracles” (as an example of supposedly “pagan” prophecy).15 [[60]] Modern Methodologies in Studying Pseudepigrapha [4.1] Not all scholars are methodologically self-conscious. There is often

a tendency to be overawed by the results achieved by scholarly giants of past generations, without careful reevaluation of their operating procedures and presuppositions. We build on “the assured results of critical scholarship” without consistently analyzing how those results emerged. And many of us shy away from detailed work with the preserved texts themselves—I mean the actual manuscripts or facsimiles thereof—relying instead on whatever printed editions are conveniently available. Thus we and our students are too often unaware of the extremely complicated and often tenuous processes by which suspicions have been turned into hypotheses and hypotheses into “assured results,” which become enshrined as foundation stones for further investigations. In the modern investigation of “psudepigrapha,” the strong desire to throw light on a relatively obscure period of Jewish history that was believed to be of great significance for early Christian studies played an important role. The earliest pioneers of pseudepigrapha study tended to be understandably cautious in attributing hitherto unattested works to Jewish authorship, but were relatively quick to identify newly recovered writings with titles found in ancient lists. M.R. James is perhaps a good example of caution in the former regard—he seldom attached the unqualified adjective “Jewish” to the numerous psudepigraphic texts he helped to rescue for scholarly investigation. Other influential scholars, however, including some well-versed in Jewish traditions such as Louis

[4.2]

15 After all, the etymological sense of “falsely attributed authorship” applies equally to some writings included in the traditional Jewish and Christian canons, and some of the writings usually discussed under the wider heading of “pseudepigrapha” do not have the same sort of authorship ascription problem—e.g., Lives of the Prophets, 3–4 Maccabees. Furthermore, the more recently discovered materials from the Judean Desert (“Dead Sea Scrolls”) need to be worked into the broader classification scheme somehow. For a discussion of some of these issues, see Stone and Kraft in Religious Studies Review 14/2 (1988) 111–17; see also Kraft’s review in JBL 106 (1987) 738 [below, Chapter Five]. Note that Sparks preferred to use the term “apocryphal” in its general sense in AOT. My use of “scripturesque” in the title of the present collection is an attempt to level this terminological playing field.

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Ginzberg or Kaufmann Kohler argued strongly for the Jewish origin of numerous traditions and sections in the pseudepigrapha.16 Riessler represents this latter perspective. It is worth noting how important the argument from parallel passages was in these earlier investigations— M.R. James would list page after page of alleged verbal reminiscences to NT writings, with the conclusion that the writing being examined had made use of the NT and thus was Christian [[61]] in its present form. In contrast, Ginzberg would list at length the parallels to known rabbinic Jewish traditions and conclude that the basic core of the writing was Jewish. In this connection, assumptions about “canon formation” and acceptance played a major role. We have, hopefully, come a long way in our critical awareness if not in our actual practice from simple “parallelomania” as Samuel Sandmel has dubbed it.17 Most of us no longer assume that virtually any phrase that appears in NT literature necessarily originated there. We have become more aware of diversity within pre-Christian Judaism including the presence there of emphases on faith, on special knowledge, on imminent eschatological salvation, among other things. Now Qumran has supplied good examples of even such seemingly Christian ideas as the divine sonship of God’s eschatological agent, appropriation of God’s promised new covenant, eschatological asceticism and the religious importance of baptisms and special meals.18 We have also become more aware of diversity in early Christianity—of a wide range of beliefs and attitudes ranging from a relatively conservative and cultic [4.3]

16 Examples may be found in the relevant articles by these scholars in the Jewish Encyclopedia (ed. I. Singer; 13 vols.; New York and London: Funk and Wagnalls, 1901–1907). E.g., see L. Ginzberg, “Abraham, Apocalypse of,” 1.91–2; “Abraham, Testament of,” 1.93–6; “Adam, Book of,” 1.179–80; “Baruch, Apocalypse of (Greek),” 2.549–51; “Baruch, Apocalypse of (Syriac),” 2.551–56; K. Kohler, “Job, Testament of,” 7.200–2; “Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs,” 12.113–18. See also L. Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews (7 vols.; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1909–38). 17 Samuel Sandmel, “Parallelomania,” JBL 81 (1962) 1–13. 18 The journal Revue de Qumrân (1958–) is devoted to the study of these materials. For a general update and bibliography, see J. Murphy-O’Connor, “The Judean Desert,” EJMI, ch. 5; J.A. Fitzmyer, The Dead Sea Scrolls: Major Publications and Tools for Study (rev. ed.; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990). For regular updates, bibliography is conveniently found online at the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature site (http://orion.mscc.huji.ac.il/).

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Jewish sort of Christianity to a highly philosophical and/or mystical dualistic gnostic Christianity.19 [4.4] In the study of the pseudepigrapha, realization of pre-rabbinic Jew-

ish pluralism has played a much more influential role than recognition of early Christian pluralism. Perhaps this is only natural. After all, most Christianity built on a Jewish base and introduced relatively little that could be called uniquely Christian, beyond specific references to Jesus of Nazareth and other personages or events of specifically Christian history, or the trinitarian God-language that arose in classical Christian circles and became standardized by the 4th century. For the most part, Christians appropriated Jewish scriptures and traditions, Jewish liturgical language, Jewish eschatological hopes, Jewish ethical ideals, and many Jewish practices.20 Reflecting such a setting, most Christian writings contain apparently “Jewish” elements and aspects, as is obvious to any contemporary NT student. The problem comes in attempting to place a label on such materials. At what point do I describe an originally Jewish ethical tract that has been adopted and perhaps also adapted by Christians as [[62]] “Christian” rather than “Jewish”? And if a Christian author who has been trained to think about religious life and conduct in ethical terms that derive from Judaism now writes an ethical treatise based on that author’s own views—not simply copying an older tract—is the author not writing a Christian work—even though it may have all the characteristics of a Jewish work?21

19 See, for example, Walter Bauer, Rechtgläubigkeit und Ketzerei im ältesten Christentum (Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1934); 2nd ed., reprinted and supplemented by Georg Strecker (Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1964); English translation, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Early Christianity (ed. R.A. Kraft and G. Krodel; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1971; also available online at http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/rs/rak/publics/new/BAUER00.htm). 20 Other areas for further exploration include the physical formats (e.g., scrolls, separate pages, codices) and modes of collecting (e.g., “library” issues, scrolls with multiple works) as well as scribal conventions; see Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean Desert (STDJ 54; Leiden: Brill, 2004). For some of my own excursions into such areas, see the online listing at http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/rs/rak/early/lxx/jewsihpap.html and at http://ccat.sas.upenn .edu/rs/rak/courses/735/book/book.html. 21 The actual and suspected history of the “Two Ways” traditions provides an excellent illustration of the problems. See my Barnabas and the Didache = volume 3 of The Apostolic Fathers: A New Translation and Commentary (ed. R.M. Grant; New York: Nelson, 1965) (also online), and the literature discussed there.

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This methodological problem is perhaps best illustrated by quoting some actual operating procedures of earlier scholars. In his 1893 History of Ancient Christian Literature, Adolf Harnack included a valuable, pioneering section entitled “Jewish Literature Appropriated, and sometimes Reworked, by Christians.”22 Harnack argues that Christians sometimes imitated the style of older Jewish forgeries, thus making it impossible any longer to distinguish Jewish from Christian elements. In this connection, Harnack suggests that the investigator will seldom err if the following rule is observed: “Whatever is not clearly Christian is Jewish”!23 L.S.A. Wells enunciates a similar philosophy in his study of the Adam-Eve materials in Charles’ Pseudepigrapha volume: “The complete absence of references, direct or indirect, to Christian notions of Incarnation, Redemption, even of Christian higher moral teaching, would make it impossible to assign to most of the work a Christian origin.”24 [4.5]

Dissenting voices were also heard occasionally, but were clearly in the minority. I have already alluded to the cautious approach taken by M.R. James. Similarly, F.C. Burkitt’s 1913 Schweich Lectures on Jewish and Christian Apocalypses provide a good example. Burkitt is explicitly critical of the tendency to proclaim as “Jewish” virtually any writing that is not overtly Christian. Regarding Slavonic (or 2nd) Enoch, he writes,

[4.6]

I do not know that a Christian romance of Enoch need differ very much from a Jewish romance of Enoch. And . . . the whole question of the channels by which rare and curious literature found their [sic] way into Slavonic requires fresh and independent investigation.25

According to the Harnack-Wells approach, a pseudepigraphon would be considered Jewish until proven otherwise; Burkitt would reverse the situation and put the onus of proof on those claiming Jewish origin. [[63]]

22 Adolf Harnack, Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur bis Eusebius I: die Überlieferung und der Bestand 2 (Leipzig, 1893; 2nd ed. reprinted Leipzig: Hindrichs, 1958); “Űbersicht über die von den Christen angeeignete und z[um] Th[eile] bearbeitete jüdische Litteratur,” 845–65. 23 Ibid., 861. 24 APOT 2.126–27. 25 F.C. Burkitt, Jewish and Christian Apocalypses (London: Milford, 1914) 76.

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Although I am emotionally disposed towards a position like that of Harnack-Wells, it is clear to me that the James-Burkitt approach is methodologically more defensible. Except in rare instances where Jewish fragments or clear early patristic usage renders the Jewish origin or location of a writing virtually beyond dispute (as with the “OT” deuterocanonical writings, some form of Aḥ ikar and 1 Enoch, Aristeas), the preserved pseudepigrapha are known only from relatively late Christian manuscripts of various sorts. Clearly the pseudepigrapha, including those of demonstrable Jewish origin, have had a long association with Christianity and deserve more than passing attention in that context. Once their setting in Christianity has been recognized more clearly, it may be possible to pose more carefully the questions of origin and early transmission.

[4.7]

Attitudes to the Pseudepigrapha in Pre-Modern Christianity On the whole, the pseudepigrapha were viewed as a threat by leaders of classical Christianity, Greek and Latin, from about the midfourth century through at least the ninth. The gradual standardization of Christianity that was achieved in the internal battles against heterodoxy and the external achievement of official recognition in the Roman worlds (west and east) exhibited itself in the formation of an exclusive Christian scriptural canon. Aspects of the problem were recognized already in the late second century. Irenaeus rails against the Marcosians for “introducing an innumerable number of apocrypha and of counterfeit writings which they themselves created to amaze the foolish who do not understand the true writings” (Against Heresies 1.20.1=1.13.1). Perhaps around the same time, or not too much later, the author of the Muratorian canon rejects compositions associated with various heterodox groups including “those who composed a new book of Psalms for Marcion.”26 [5.1]

[5.2] To what extent these early testimonies had allegedly Jewish writings

in view is not clear. But the principle of opposition to unacceptable heterodox writings is quite plain, and is continued even more explicitly in later authors. According to Athanasius, who writes [[64]] from 26 Numerous websites can provide the text and information on the “Muratorian canon,” also known as the “Muratorian fragment”—use your favorite search engine.

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Alexandria at a time when Christianity had successfully withstood the attempts of emperor Julian (“the apostate”!) to revive old Roman “paganism” and is about to be proclaimed as the official religion of the Roman empire, the “apocryphal” books (that is, our “Jewish” pseudepigrapha, among others) are a “device of heretics” who compose them at will and assign them ancient dates to mislead the simple. Athanasius speaks with disdain of books ascribed to Enoch, and apocryphal books of Isaiah and Moses. Similar negative attitudes are found in such other later 4th century authors as Epiphanius, Cyril of Jerusalem, the compiler of the Apostolic Constitutions, Rufinus and Jerome, while the prohibition of pseudepigrapha is buttressed with more extensive lists of titles in such later sources as the ps-Athanasian Synopsis of Scriptures (6th c.?), the ps-Gelasian Decree (6th c.?), the so-called Catalogue of 60 (canonical) Books (6/7th c.?), the Stichometry of Nicephorus (9th c.), and elsewhere.27 Among the writings to be avoided are those associated with the names of Adam, Enoch, Lamech, Abraham and the Patriarchs, Joseph, Eldad and Modad, Jambres and Mambres, Job, Moses, David, Solomon, Elijah, Isaiah, Baruch, Sofonia, Zachariah, Habakkuk, Ezekiel, Daniel, Ezra, the Sibyl, and various angels. One list even refers to a “book of the giant named Og who is said by the heretics to have fought with a dragon after the flood” (ps-Gelasian Decree)!28 Not all the preserved notices are equally negative. In the 2nd century, Justin Martyr accuses the Jews of excising certain passages from their scriptures in order to counter their use by Christians, including a passage attributed to Ezra and a reference to Isaiah’s death by means of a wooden saw (Dialogue 72, 120)29—in Justin’s view, of course, the excised materials are not “pseudepigrapha” (as they become for us!)

[5.3]

27 See H.B. Swete, An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek (2nd ed.; Cambridge: CUP, 1902; supplemented by R.R. Ottley, 1914; reprinted, New York: KTAV, 1968; also online) part 2 chap. 1; also the “new Schürer,” History 3/2.797–98. Such “canon lists” and related materials are conveniently available on the web—e.g., at http://www .bible-researcher.com/canon8.html. 28 On “Og and the Giants,” see my online update of the section from M.R. James, Lost Apocrypha of the Old Testament: their Titles and Fragments Collected, Translated and Discussed (London: SPCK, 1920) also available online. 29 See further R.A. Kraft, “Christian Transmission of Greek Jewish Scriptures: A Methodological Probe,” Paganisme, judaisme, christianisme: Influences et affrontements dans le monde antique: Melanges offerts a Marcel Simon (ed. Benoit et al.; Ouvrage publie avec le concours de l’Université des Sciences Humaines de Strasbourg; Paris: Éditions E. de Boccard, 1978) 207–26 (included below, Chapter Three, also online).

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but authentic scripture. Justin also refers with favor to various Greek philosophical authors as to “the Sibyl and Hystaspes” (Apology 20). Even more striking is the practice of Clement of Alexandria at the end of the 2nd century, who shows an extremely wide acquaintance with a great variety of writings, Jewish, Christian and “pagan,” as well as with [[65]] “Jewish scriptures” in a strict sense.30 He is less concerned with what writings people use than with how they use the writings, including scripture (Stromateis 6.[15].124.3). Indeed, he believes that the scriptures are filled with mysteries that can only properly be understood by the true Christian gnostic whose life is in accord with the apostolic tradition. And non-scriptural literature also contains valuable material when understood properly—that is, “gnostically.” Clement cites “Paul” as exhorting his readers to “take also the Hellenic books, read the Sibyl, . . . and take Hystaspes to read . . .” (Stromateis 6.[5].43.1). Elsewhere Clement quotes material attributed to “Enoch” (Ecl Proph 2.1), to “the prophecy of Ham” (Stromateis 6.[6].53.5, indirectly, from Isidore’s Exegetica of the Prophet Parchor),31 to a non-canonical revelation by “Sofonia the prophet” (Stromateis 5.[11].77.2), and refers to Moses’ “assumption” (Comm on Jude 9 and Stromateis 1.[23].153.1—at least referring to the event, if not the name of a writing). In none of these passages, nor in numerous other references to what are now non-canonical Christian materials, does Clement apologize or show discomfort about his use of such sources. [5.4] The situation is recognizably different when we examine the evidence from Origen, who inherits Clement’s openness and exposure to a wide variety of sources but who also betrays some revealing reticence in using what came to be considered non-canonical sources. At least in the later part of his life, when he worked from Caesarea on the Hexapla, he was in first hand contact with Jewish informants and

30 See the index of scriptural citations supplied in the four-volume Griechische Christliche Schriftsteller edition of Clement of Alexandria (Griechische Christliche Schriftsteller 12, 15, 17, 39) begun by O. Stählin in 1905 (Leipzig: Hinrichs), and partly revised by Ludwig Früchtel (1960) and Ursula Treu (1970–85)—the 4th ed. of volume 2 appeared in 1985. Unfortunately, the Strasbourg project does not include non-scriptural citations in its Biblia Patristica: Index des citations et allusions bibliques dans la litterature patristique (7 vols. thus far; ed. J. Allenbach; Paris: Editions du Centre national de la recherche scientifique, 1975–). 31 See Jean Doresse, The Secret Books of the Egyptian Gnostics (London: Hollis and Carter, 1960; reprinted, Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 1986) 20.

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traditions.32 For him, the Jewish scriptural canon was fairly well defined as is evident from his work on the Hexapla, his preserved list of canonical books, and his “exegetical” writings (scholia, homilies, commentaries). Nevertheless, he does not forsake the sympathetic use of extra-canonical, presumably Jewish works and traditions, although he sometimes prefaces such with words like “if anyone accepts such a writing”—so with reference to a passage about angels disputing at Abraham’s death (Homily on Luke 35), to a long quotation from the “Prayer of Joseph” (Commentary on John 2.31/25), to an “Isaiah Apocryphon” about the death of the prophet (Commentary on Matthew 13.57/23.37). Elsewhere he also shows knowledge of the book or books of Enoch (Against Celsus 5.54–55), of [[66]] Joseph-Aseneth materials (Selections in Genesis 41.45), of a Book of Jannes and Mambres (Homily on Matthew 23.37(25)/27.9) and of an apocryphon of Elijah or of Jeremiah (Homily on Matthew 27.9) among other non-canonical references. Thus Origen stands in personal tension between a relatively firm, exclusivistic view of scripture that apparently was present in some of the churches (and/or perhaps in the Jewish circles) with which he was in contact and the relatively less restrictive attitudes of his predecessor Clement. A couple of decades earlier, in North Africa, Tertullian had revealed similar reticence in citing the book of Enoch regarding fallen angels, in full recognition that some Christians rejected it because it was not included by the Jews in their scriptural collection (Cult Fem 1.3). Around the middle of the third century, Origen’s pupil Dionysius (bishop of Alexandria c. 247–264) admits to having read “both the compositions and the traditions of the heretics” despite a warning from one of the presbyters that he would thereby injure his soul. But, in a vision, God instructed Dionysius to read everything at hand so as to be able to test and prove everything—and thus he was able to [5.5]

32 See in general N.R.M. de Lange, Origen and the Jews (New York: CUP, 1977); R.P.C. Hanson, Allegory and Event: a Study of the Sources and Significance of Origen’s Interpretation of Scripture (London: SCM Press, 1959). Studies that focus upon specific correspondences between the teachings of Origen and the Sages include E.E. Urbach, “Homiletical Interpretations of the Sages and the Expositions of Origen on Canticles, and the Jewish-Christian Disputation,” Scripta hierosolymitana 22 (1971) 247–75; R. Kimelman, “Rabbi Yohanan and Origen on the Song of Songs: A Third-Century Jewish-Christian Disputation,” HTR 73 (1980) 567–95; and D.J. Halperin, “Origen, Ezekiel’s Merkabah, and the Ascension of Moses,” Church History 50 (1981) 261–75.

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refute heresy all the more powerfully (Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 7.7.1–3; cf. 7.24). Even at the end of the 4th century (Filaster of Brescia) or as late as the 8th century (John of Damascus) we still hear faint ecclesiastical voices arguing, in the same vein as Clement, Origen, and Dionysius, that enlightened Christians can profit from any and all available literature. But for the most part, the orthodox spokesmen of whom we know throughout this period were violently opposed to the pseudepigrapha, associating such writings with heterodox groups and even accusing the heretics of having forged some if not all of this material.

[5.6]

Alleged Heterodox Christian Transmitters of Pseudepigrapha [6.1] Some of the orthodox Christian sources attempt to identify specific

heterodox groups which produced, or at least used allegedly Jewish pseudepigraphical writings. Other heterodox groups are also described in terms that suggest an openness to such literature. In the [[67]] earliest period, apart from amorphous “Jewish Christian” outlooks for which wide use of Jewish materials would be fully expected, we hear of Elkesaites (early 2nd century) with their special traditions and their “Book of Elksai.”33 Some decades later Basilides is said to have had a special Psalm Book,34 and the 2nd century Montanist apocalyptic orientation appears to be well suited to the use of pseudepigraphic apocalyptic writings. (Tertullian argues for accepting “Enoch” as scripture, perhaps even before his Montanist alignment.) Irenaeus accuses the followers of Mark the gnostic of using and of forging apocrypha (Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.20.1=1.13.1) in the late 2nd century. About the same time, 33 There is revived interest in the Elkesaites, partly due to the recent discovery and publication of the Cologne Mani Codex (see below, n. 37). Consult Origen apud Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 6.38; Hippolytus, Refutation 9.13–17; 10.29; Epiphanius, Panarion 19.1–6; 53.1; W. Brandt, Elchasai: ein Religionsstifter und sein Werk (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1912); A.F.J. Klijn and G.J. Reinink, Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects (Leiden: Brill, 1973) 54–67; idem, “Elchasai and Mani,” Vigiliae Christianae 28 (1974) 277–89; G.P. Luttikhuizen, The Revelation of Elchasai (Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1985); A. Henrichs and L. Koenen, “Ein griechischer Mani-Codex (P. Colon. inv. nr. 4780),” Zeitschrift fur Papyrologie und Epigraphik 5 (1970) 97–217, esp. pp. 133–60. For a recent attempt to link the Elkesaites to Jewish literature and institutions, see J.C. Reeves, “The Elchasaite Sanhedrin of the Cologne Mani Codex in Light of Second Temple Jewish Sectarian Sources,” JJS 42 (1991) 68–91. 34 For references and discussion, see Bauer, Orthodoxy, 170 n. 42.

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Lucian of Samosata satirically describes the temporarily converted Peregrinus as having authored many books for his Christian associates (Peregrinus 11). Passing reference is perhaps appropriate here to the relatively obscure Melchizedekian Christians35 and to the reputed Syrian rhapsodist Bar Daisan.36 [6.2] In the 3rd century, Mani consciously selected “the writings, wisdom, apocalypses, parables, and psalms of all the previous religions” for use in his Manichaean super-religion.37 His background seems to include close contacts with Elkesaites and Marcionites, at the very least. Unfortunately, the extent to which our allegedly Jewish pseudepigrapha

35 Epiphanius, Panarion 55. Interest in this sect has been spurred by the discovery and publication of Melchizedek texts from both Nag Hammadi (Nag Hammadi Codex IX 1) and Qumran (11QMelch). See A.S. van der Woude, “Melchisedek als himmlische Erlosergestalt in den neugefundenen eschatologischen Midraschim aus Qumran Hohle XI,” OtSt 14 (1965) 354–73; J.T. Milik, “Milki-sedeq et Milki-resa‘ dans les anciens écrits juifs et chrétiens,” JJS 23 (1972) 95–144; F.L. Horton, The Melchizedek Tradition: A Critical Examination of the Sources to the Fifth Century A.D. and in the Epistle to the Hebrews (Cambridge: CUP, 1976); P.J. Kobelski, Melchizedek and Melchiresa‘ (Washington: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1981); E. Puech, “Notes sur le manuscrit de XIQ Melkisedeq,” RevQ 12 (1987) 483–513; B.A. Pearson, “The Figure of Melchizedek in the First Tractate of the Unpublished Coptic-Gnostic Codex IX from Nag Hammadi,” Proceedings of the XIIth International Congress of the International Association for the History of Religion (Leiden: Brill, 1975) 200–8; Nag Hammadi Codices IX and X (ed. B.A. Pearson; Nag Hammadi Studies 15; Leiden: Brill, 1981). 36 On a possible connection between Bar Daisan and the Odes of Solomon, see W.R. Newbold, “Bardaisan and the Odes of Solomon,” JBL 30 (1911) 161–204; J. Daniélou, The Theology of Jewish Christianity (trans. John A. Baker; Chicago: Regnery, 1964, from Theologie du judeo-christianisme; Paris: Desclee, 1958) 30–3; H.J.W. Drijvers, Bardaisan of Edessa (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1966) 209–12. 37 The quotation is taken from Kephalaia 154; see C. Schmidt and H.J. Polotsky, “Ein Mani-Fund in Agypten,” Sitzungsberichte der preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften (1933) 41 (text p. 85). Our knowledge about the milieu from which Manichaeism sprang has been augmented by the discovery and publication of the Cologne Mani Codex. See L. Koenen and C. Romer, Der Kölner Mani-Kodex: Abbildungen und diplomatischer Text (Bonn: Habelt, 1985); idem, Der Kölner Mani-Kodex: Kritische Edition (Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag, 1988). For an English translation of the initial portion of the Codex, see Ron Cameron and Arthur J. Dewey (trans.) The Cologne Mani Codex (P.Colon. inv. nr. 4780) “Concerning the Origin of his Body” (SBLTT 15; Early Christian Literature Series 3; Missoula: Scholars, 1979). A recent comprehensive study that incorporates the new information about Mani is S.N.C. Lieu, Manichaeism in the Later Roman Empire and Medieval China (2nd ed.; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1992). For an extensive summary treatment and bibliography, see Werner Sundermann’s article “Cologne Mani Codex” in the online Encyclopedia Iranica (c 1990; http://www .iranica.com/newsite/).

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might have been used among Manichaeans is presently unknown.38 According to the Coptic text of Athanasius’ famous Easter letter of 367, unspecified apocryphal works also were used by the Meletian sect, which sometimes was closely identified with the Arians. A few decades later, Epiphanius names a great many books allegedly used by heretical groups: the Borborite gnostics use books in the name of Ialdabaoth and of Seth as well as an apocalypse of Adam and various books attributed to Mary and the Apostles (Panarion 26.8.1); other gnostics use a Gospel of Eve (26.2.6f.) and a book of Noriah, wife of Noah (26.1.3–4); the Sethians write books in the name of great men such as Seth, or his offspring called Allogenes, or Abraham (an apocalypse), or Moses (39.5.1); the Archontics create “apocrypha” with such names as the Small and Great Symphonia or the Ascent of Isaiah or books in the name of Seth (40.2.1, 7.4). Also from the late 4th century we hear of the Priscillians in Spain who used [[68]] apocryphal-pseudepigraphical books associated with prophets such as Adam, Seth, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and others and who were accused of Manichaeanism and of magic.39 Some of their views seem to have survived among the medieval Cathari (and Albigenses?).

38 The Cologne Mani Codex contains five citations from otherwise unknown pseudepigraphic works attributed to Adam, Seth, Enosh, Enoch, and Shem. Albert Henrichs has suggested that Cologne Mani Codex 7.2–14 reflects dependence upon the Testament of Abraham; see Henrichs, “Thou Shalt Not Kill a Tree: Greek, Manichaean and Indian Tales,” BASP 16 (1979) 105–6; idem, “Literary Criticism of the Cologne Mani Codex,” The Rediscovery of Gnosticism: Proceedings of the International Conference on Gnosticism at Yale, New Haven, Connecticut, March 28–31, 1978 (ed. B. Layton; 2 vols.; Leiden: Brill, 1980–81) 2.729 n. 20. A reliance upon Jewish Enochic literature has been vigorously advocated by J.C. Reeves, “An Enochic Motif in Manichaean Tradition,” Manichaica Selecta: Studies Presented to Professor Julien Ries on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (ed. A. van Tongerloo and S. Giversen; Louvain: International Association of Manichaean Studies, 1991) 295–98; idem, Jewish Lore in Manichaean Cosmogony: Studies in the Book of Giants Traditions (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1992). 39 See H. Chadwick, Priscillian of Avila: The Occult and the Charismatic in the Early Church (Oxford: Clarendon, 1976); Andrew Jacobs, “The Disorder of Books: Priscillian’s Canonical Defense of Apocrypha,” HTR 93 (2000) 135–59.

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chapter one Resurgence of Interest in Pseudepigrapha in Mainstream Christian Circles

Very few Greek manuscripts of allegedly Jewish pseudepigrapha have survived from the period prior to the 9th century.40 To what extent this is a reflection of official orthodox hostility, or even censorship, or is simply due to the general paucity of materials that have survived from that early period is difficult to determine. In any event, from the 10th century onward there is a growing flood of Jewish pseudepigraphical materials in Greek, especially those that deal with the lives and deaths of ancient righteous persons.41 From the 14th century onward, various apocalyptic pseudepigrapha MSS appear in Greek, including both the popular reward-punishment scenes of the afterlife (as in Dante’s “Comedy”)42 and the more cosmic surveys of the mysteries of past and future history. Again, it may be simply due to coincidence that the preserved MSS are so late in date, but at least this information provides a starting point for further investigation. The main point I wish to make here is that by the later byzantine period, the orthodox Greek transcribers readily transmitted and used pseudepigraphical materials. The primary justification seems to be an avid interest in martyrology and hagiographic narrative.43 Greek liturgical practice provided a framework for this by stipulating specific dates on which to commemorate the saints and martyrs of the Christian tradition—including pre-Christian Jewish notables. As nearly as I can determine, the Christian Latin

[7.1]

40 For the evidence, see A.-M. Denis, Introduction aux pseudepigraphes grecs d’Ancien Testament (Leiden: Brill, 1970); S.P. Brock, “Other Manuscript Discoveries,” EJMI 157–73; also DiTommaso’s Bibliography (2001). 41 See especially the materials collected by F. Halkin, Bibliotheca Hagiographica Graeca (3 vols.; 3rd ed.; Bruxelles: Société Bollandistes, 1957). 42 For the development of such materials, see Martha Himmelfarb, Tours of Hell: An Apocalyptic Form in Jewish and Christian Literature (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1983), followed by her Ascent to Heaven in Jewish and Christian Apocalypses (Oxford: OUP, 1993). 43 An interest that I have largely overlooked, but that may have served as a preserver of traditions and “pseudepigrapha awareness” at a more “scientific-historical” level, is in world chronography, more clearly identified and documented by William Adler, Time Immemorial: Archaic History and its Sources in Christian Chronography from Julius Africanus to Georgius Syncellus (Dumbarton Oaks Studies 26; Washington: Dumbarton Oaks, 1989), esp. 80–97. In various ways, pseudepigraphic literatures seem to have been able to serve a wide range of interests in the “middle ages,” including science (especially astronomological and calendric issues), history, popular piety (especially with folkloristic tales), and ordinary worship (e.g., with models of prayer/hymn language). The interrelationship of such motives among Christian transmitters deserves closer study.

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manuscript tradition shows much less sustained interest in the Jewish pseudepigraphical materials in the late medieval period, although some noteworthy Latin MSS or fragments dating from the 6th century (Jubilees, [Assumption of] Moses, Ascension of Isaiah) to the 9th Century (Life of Adam, 4 Ezra) are known. [[69]] [7.2] The situation in eastern Christian circles other than Greek is more

difficult to assess because so little pertinent scholarly work has been done therein. There are a great many relevant early Coptic materials, from the 4th century onward, which seems to indicate that the canoncentered orientation of Shenoute and his monastically inclined followers was by no means universal among literate Coptic Egyptian Christians.44 There is also a significant amount of relatively early material in Syriac,45 notably 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra from a 6th century MS, and the Psalms and Odes of Solomon from the 10th century. If it is assumed that most of the pseudepigrapha now preserved in Arabic were translated from Syriac, the impression that Syriac Christianity suffered little from the anti-pseudepigrapha attitudes of the orthodox Greek Christians is fortified. When we turn to the national churches in which the Armenian (from the 5th century),46 Ethiopic47 (from the 4/5th? century) and Old Slavic (from the 8th? century) languages were central, we are flooded with copies of a great variety of pseuepigraphical texts, dating mostly from the 12th century onward. These riches lie mostly untapped, and almost no precise information is available about the conditions under 44 See, e.g., Janet Timbie, Dualism and the Concept of Orthodoxy in the Thought of the Monks of Upper Egypt (PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 1979). For general background on the development of Christian communities in Egypt, see Bauer, Orthodoxy ch. 2, and more recently, Birger Pearson and James E. Goehring (eds.), The Roots of Egyptian Christianity (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986). For a recent survey, David Frankfurter, Religion in Roman Egypt: Assimilation and Resistance (Princeton: University Press, 1998). 45 See David Bundy, “Pseudepigrapha in Syriac Literature,” SBL Seminar Papers 1991 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1991) 745–65. 46 On Armenian materials, see especially Michael E. Stone, Studies in the Pseudepigrapha, with Special Reference to the Armenian (SVTP; Leiden: Brill, 1991); idem, Apocrypha, Pseudepigrapha and Armenian Studies: Collected Papers 1–2 (Leuven: Peeters, 2006) and below, n. 65. 47 A project to microfilm Ethiopic manuscripts was undertaken by the Hill Monastic Manuscript Library (HMML) of St. John’s University, Collegeville, Minnesota, in conjunction with Vanderbilt Divinity School and with cooperation from the Ethiopian Orthodox Church in 1971 and has continued as circumstances and funding have permitted since then. A brief introduction to the Ethiopian Monastic Manuscript Library (EMML) is available online.

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which the pseudepigrapha were introduced among those Christians. I have little idea of the extent to which other relatively early Christian literatures and traditions such as those in Gothic, Georgian, Old Irish,48 Nubian, Sogdian, or Anglo-Saxon49 can contribute additional materials of relevance to this discussion. [7.3] In a nutshell, the situation seems to have been approximately as follows: From about the 4th century onward, classical Greek and Latin Christianity tended to oppose the (public) use of non-canonical religious literature and to identify it closely with heterodoxy. But as the threat of “the old heresies” waned, and as hagiographical traditions became more and more important to orthodoxy, the Greek churches came to accept and rework certain types of pseudepigraphical literature in great quantity. It is possible, as Lebreton once suggested,50 that orthodox editors actually purified some apocrypha of their heretical connections and sought “beneath gnostic accretions some harmless primitive tradition.” It is not clear where the Greeks obtained the [[70]] pseudepigraphical writings and traditions. My hunch is that many were preserved in Greek by monastics whose concern for personal piety and whose passive disdain for what was felt to be the tainted herd-mentality of urban organized Christianity led them to ignore prohibitions of such material. Chronographic and related “scholarly” interests doubtless played a role as well (see above, n. 43). Apparently many pseudepigrapha were available in such languages as Coptic or Syriac even from the 4th to 9th centuries, and it is not likely that they would have disappeared extensively in Greek. Nor is it impossible that some traditions that had disappeared in written Greek form could be reintroduced from oral sources or from non-Greek literature. Our

48 Martin McNamara, The Apocrypha in the Irish Church (Dublin: Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies, 1975); see also his (ed. with Maire Herbert) Irish Biblical Apocrypha: Selected Texts in Translation (Edinburgh: Clark, 1989). 49 See Frederick M. Biggs et al., “Apocrypha,” Sources of Anglo-Saxon Literary Culture: a Trial Version (ed. Biggs, T.D. Hill and P.E. Szarmach; Binghamton NY: Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, State University of New York at Binghamton, 1990). A good example of the crossfertilization of some of these developments can be seen in E. Ann Matter, “The ‘Revelatio Esdrae’ in Latin and English Traditions,” RBén 92 (1982) 376–92. Other examples may be found in the electronic logs of network discussion groups such as ANSAX-L and MEDTEXTL (listed, with others, at http://pages .towson.edu/duncan/acalists.html). 50 Jules Lebreton and Jacques Zeiller, The History of the Early Church (trans. Ernest C. Messenger; New York: Collier, 1962 [1944–47 original]) 4.90.

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knowledge of eremetic outlooks, literary practices, and contacts with other monastics of various language groupings is extremely poor, especially for the period from the 5th through the 9th centuries. And our knowledge of general developments in non-Latin Christianity in that period is not much better. What influence did the rise and spread of Islam during the 7th through the 9th centuries have on this situation? We know that there were concerted efforts by Muslim leaders and scholars to translate all sorts of Greek and Syriac materials into Arabic, especially in the late 8th and early 9th centuries.51 This doubtless brought many literate Christians and Jews who knew at least Syriac and perhaps also Greek into closer contact with each other. And Muslims were interested in Jewish and Christian traditions of various sorts, including apocalyptic, as is evident from Islamic literature.

[7.4]

[7.5] Furthermore, reports of the discovery of non-canonical ancient Jewish writings come from this period—including the report of a Nestorian Christian leader (Timotheos, ca. 800) whose informants seem to be in fairly close contact with the Jewish discoverers.52 The Jewish Karaite movement53 develops in the late 8th century, with adherents who look

51 The individual preeminently associated with this effort was the Christian physician Hunayn b. Ishaq (809–874 CE), regarding whom see G. Strohmaier, “Hunayn b. Ishak al-‘Ibadi,” Encyclopaedia of Islam2 (1954–2005; vol. 3, 1979) 3.578-81. For a general discussion, see M. Plessner, “Science: The Natural Sciences and Medicine,” The Legacy of Islam (ed. J. Schacht and C.E. Bosworth; 2nd ed.; Oxford: Clarendon: 1974) 425–60, esp. pp. 430ff. 52 O. Braun, “Ein Brief des Katholikos Timotheos I über biblische Studien des 9. Jahrhunderts,” OrChr 1 (1901) 299–313 (German text and English translation of the letter is also online). In his letter, Timetheos recounts a report (received from some Jewish converts to Christianity) of the recent discovery of a number of biblical and non-biblical manuscripts in a cave near Jericho. These manuscripts were removed to Jerusalem for further study. For more discussion of this find and its possible significance for Qumran, see O. Eissfeldt, “Der gegenwartige Stand der Erforschung der in Palastina neu gefundenen hebraischen Handschriften,” TLZ 74 (1949) 597–600; R. de Vaux, “A propos des manuscrits de la mer Morte,” RB 57 (1950) 417–29; A. Paul, Écrits de Qumran et sectes juives aux premiers siécles de l’Islam (Paris: Letouzey et Ane, 1969) 94–6. 53 For the origin and history of the Karaite schism, see S.W. Baron, A Social and Religious History of the Jews (18 vols.; 2nd ed.; New York and Philadelphia: Columbia University Press and the Jewish Publication Society, 1952–83) 5.209–85; L. Nemoy, et al., “Karaites,” EncJud 10.761–85. Regarding the possible reliance of the Karaites upon non-canonical sources, see H.H. Rowley, The Zadokite Fragments and the Dead Sea Scrolls (Oxford: Blackwell, 1952) 22–9, and Y. Erder and H. Ben-Shammai, “The

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with favor on Jesus as a Jewish righteous teacher and who present an elaborate angelology to mediate between God and his creation. Karaite tradition also knows of an influential Jewish messianic movement in this period, and there is a spate of Jewish would-be messiahs in succeeding centuries. Whether apocalyptic [[71]] pseudepigrapha had any role in these phenomena is unknown to me, but the possibility deserves mention. The probable connection between the Karaites, the Cairo geniza materials and the Dead Sea sectaries (or at least their cave-deposited literature) should not be overlooked in this connection. Whether any significant “millennarian movements” developed in eastern Christianity in the same period, and how they related to Jewish movements, would also be worth knowing for our purposes. The period around the year 1000 seems to have witnessed a rise in apocalyptic expectations in Christian circles,54 but the detailed story remains to be written. Similarly, the history of contacts between Jews and Christians in this period, and especially with Christians who spoke Syriac, Arabic, Armenian, Ethiopic, and perhaps even Old Slavic, also has yet to be written. I suspect it would be extremely enlightening for pseudepigrapha studies. Indeed, it probably cannot be written without careful attention to the topic of “the pseudepigrapha in Christianity.”

[7.6]

Connection of Karaism with the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Apocryphal Literature,” Cathedra 42 (1987) 53–86 (Hebrew). Some scholars have also assessed the complicated problem of whether traces of the “pseudepigrapha” have survived in the literature of classical Judaism. In addition to the references cited in n. 16 above, see H. Albeck, “Agadot im Lichte der Pseudepigraphen,” MGWJ 83 (1939) 162–69; Y. Dan, “Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha in Medieval Hebrew Literature,” EncJud 3.186–87; idem, Ha-sippur ha-‘ivri beyemey ha-baynayyim (Jerusalem: Keter, 1974) 133–41 (Hebrew); M. Himmelfarb, “R. Moses the Preacher and the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs,” American Jewish Society Review 9 (1984) 55–78. 54 H. Focillon, The Year 1000 (New York: Harper & Row, 1971), but see Bernard McGinn, Visions of the End: Apocalyptic Traditions in the Middle Ages (New York: Columbia University Press, 1979) 88, 306 n. 1. For general discussions of medieval millenarianism, see Norman Cohn, The Pursuit of the Millennium (3rd ed.; New York: OUP, 1970); P.J. Alexander, Religious and Political History and Thought in the Byzantine Empire (London: Variorum, 1978); idem, The Byzantine Apocalyptic Tradition (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985). See now the work of the “Center for Millennial Studies” at Boston University (http://www.mille.org/) and such articles as by its founder-director Richard Landes, “Apocalyptic Expectations Around the Year 1000” (1996).

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Working Backwards Towards the Origins Methodological rigor requires us to work from what is more or less securely known towards what is unknown or only suspected. In the study of ostensibly Jewish pseudepigrapha, the area of what is unknown dominates. Nevertheless, some controls are available to help chart a path for further investigation. We do possess copies of certifiably Jewish writings that have been transmitted over long periods of time by Christian transcribers.55 The most obvious examples are the canonical writings. There is extremely little evidence that Christian copyists tampered in a tendentious manner with those works. A couple of problematic passages appear in some manuscripts and/or versions of Psalms and even more rarely elsewhere. The mysterious “Sexta” version of Hab 3.13 is reported to have rendered the Hebrew leshua (“to save”) as διὰ Ἰησοῦν (dia Ihsoun—“through Joshua/Jesus”), which has been taken as evidence that the translator was Christian.56 Allegedly Christian abbreviations of key terms (e.g., man, heaven, salvation) and key names (especially Jesus) appear throughout the [[72]] manuscripts, but do not affect the meaning.57 Occasionally prefixed superscriptions or affixed subscriptions to particular scriptural writings contain clearly Christian comments, but these are just as clearly differentiated by the annotator from the sacred text itself.58 Various claims have been made to the effect that Christian transcribers have sometimes changed an “OT” text to harmonize with a variant NT quotation of that text, but such allegations are extremely difficult to substantiate.59 On the whole, [8.1]

55 See Kraft, “Transmission” (below, Chapter Three). Some recent studies of the Christian transmission of Jewish materials include David T. Runia, Philo in Early Christian Literature: A Survey (CRINT; Assen and Philadelphia: Van Gorcum and Fortress, 1993); James C. VanderKam and William Adler, eds., The Jewish Apocalyptic Heritage in Early Christianity (CRINT; Assen and Philadelphia: Van Gorcum and Fortress, 1998). 56 E.g., Swete, Introduction, 56. 57 On the treatment of such “nomina sacra” in the manuscript traditions, see Ludwig Traube, Nomina Sacra: Versuch einer Geschichte der christlichen Kürzung (Quellen und Untersuchungen zur lateinischen Philologie des Mittelalters 2; Munich: Beck, 1907), and A.H.R. Paap, Nomina Sacra in the Greek Papyri of the First Five Centuries AD: the Sources and some Deductions (Papyrologica Lugduno-Batava 8; Leiden: Brill, 1959). Much more has appeared on this topic subsequently, as a search of the web will show; e.g., Larry W. Hurtado, The Earliest Christian Artifacts: Manuscripts and Christian Origins (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006). 58 For a few examples, see Chapter Three below, n. 15. 59 See further below, in Chapter Three, for some examples.

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the evidence is strong that Christian transcribers were very careful and faithful to the text when they copied Jewish writings that they considered scriptural.60 To what extent Christian transcribers may consciously have eliminated “Christian” sorts of variants they found in the Jewish scriptural MSS in order to foster scriptural harmony and sanctity can no longer be determined.61 It is certainly not at all impossible that at a very early period in Christian history, before the issue of scriptural canonization had become such an obsession, characteristically Christian changes were introduced into some Jewish “scriptural” texts, only to prove an embarrassment at a later date, when the Jewish origin and orientation of the Christian “Old Testament” text became a cornerstone of the emerging orthodox faith.62 But that is uncontrolled conjecture on my part, given the present state of the evidence. On the other hand, there is strong evidence that some Christian transcribers sometimes did insert tendentious changes into the (noncanonical) Jewish texts they transmitted. The Josephus tradition is perhaps the best known example with its extremely laudatory testimony about Jesus and the various additions of possibly Christian significance in the Old Slavic version.63 I am not aware of any similar problems with Philo texts64 or with the most widely accepted “deutero-canonical” [8.2]

60

See Kraft, “Transmission” (below, Chapter Three). As claimed by M.R. James for one Latin recension of 5 Ezra (see below, Chapter Eight); see now also Theodore A. Bergren, Fifth Ezra: The Text, Origin and Early History (SBLSCS 25; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), and my own article “Towards Assessing the Latin Text of ‘5 Ezra,’ ” Christians Among Jews and Gentiles: Essays in Honor of Krister Stendhal on his Sixty-fifth Birthday (ed. G.W.E. Nickelsburg and G.W. MacRae; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986) 158–69 (included below, Chapter Eight). 62 To the extent that “Jewish” origins could be seen as evidence of both age and authority, Christian copyists might have had a tendency to emphasize “Jewish” features and eliminate what seemed to them to be obvious Christian “corruptions” in certain texts. 63 For literature discussing the Testimonium Flavianum (Antiquities 18.63–4), see Josephus, Jewish Antiquities, Books XVIII–XIX (LCL; ed. L.H. Feldman; reprinted, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1981) 419–21; the “new Schürer,” History 1.428–41; L.H. Feldman, Josephus and Modern Scholarship 1937–1980 (Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1984) 679–703; J.P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus (4 vols.; New York: Doubleday, 1991–2009) 1.56–88; S. Pines, An Arabic Version of the Testimonium Flavianum and its Implications (Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Science and Humanities, 1971). Regarding Slavonic Josephus, see the references in “new Schürer,” History 1.60–1; Meier, Marginal Jew 1.71–2 n. 5. 64 See now the careful study by Runia, Philo (above, n. 55). There is an interesting phenomenon in the Philonic textual tradition in which one family of MSS contains a different text type for the Jewish scriptural quotations, but there is nothing overtly 61

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writings. Text-critical problems do exist in all these works, but there is nothing characteristically Christian about the preserved variants. Perhaps more detailed study of the entire textual tradition (including versional evidence) would modify this impression, since modern editors are usually more concerned with establishing the supposedly original form of the text than with identifying late and tendentious variants. But for the moment, the available evidence does [[73]] not suggest that Christian transcribers regularly tended to insert characteristically Christian passages into the Jewish texts they copied. Occasionally a relatively clear instance appears, either as a variant in the textual stream or, as with the Josephus passage about Jesus, as material that seems highly incompatible with its supposed Jewish origins. Although the apocalypse dubbed “4 Ezra” cannot be classified as “certifiably Jewish” on the basis of external criteria alone, its textual transmission offers a good example of what appears to be Christian interpolation in some witnesses. At 4 Ezra 7.28, where the other extant versions refer to “messiah” or to “my son the messiah,” Latin manuscripts have “my son Jesus.” While it is possible that an original “Jesus” or “Jesus Christ/Messiah” reference has been removed by copyists because of its incongruity with the rest of the document, it is more likely that Christian interest caused the insertion of the specific name “Jesus.”65 [8.3] The evidence is also clear that Christians sometimes radically revised and reedited texts they transmitted. This can be seen most clearly with certifiably Christian texts, where no question arises as to whether the revisions had already taken place under Jewish auspices. It should be unnecessary to list examples—if the synoptic problem or the western text of Acts do not seem to be immediately relevant, the three recensions

or identifiably “Christian” about the results (despite the conjecture of Katz to this effect)—indeed, Barthelemy argues for a “Jewish” reviser; see Runia 24f for a succinct survey of the relevant literature and arguments, starting with Peter Katz, Philo’s Bible: the Aberrant Text of Bible Quotations in some Philonic Writings and its Place in the Textual History of the Greek Bible (Cambridge: CUP, 1950). See now my essay “Philo’s Bible Revisited: the ‘Aberrant Texts’ and their Quotations of Moses,” Interpreting Translation: Studies on the LXX and Ezekiel in Honour of Johan Lust (ed. F. García Martínez and M. Vervenne with the collaboration of B. Doyle; Louvain: Peeters, 2005) 237–53 [an expanded version with working notes appended is available online]. 65 Compare the Armenian version at Paraleipomena Jeremiou 9.14, and see n. 74 below.

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of the letters of Ignatius66 or the modification of Didache for incorporation into the Apostolic Constitutions67 should suffice to illustrate the point. In fact we needn’t even go that far afield. The Ascension of Isaiah is a patently Christian composition in its preserved form, whatever one thinks about its opening sections which many scholars treat as a separate Jewish document and call the “Martyrdom of Isaiah.” Virtually the same material as is present in the Ascension of Isaiah appears in a reshuffled and equally Christian form in a 12th century Greek text entitled “Prophecy, Apocalypse and Martyrdom of . . . Isaiah.”68 [8.4] Similar types of editorial activity are also demonstrable on the part

of Jewish transmitters of Jewish literature. We have received two rather different forms of the biblical book of Jeremiah.69 Ben Sira is preserved in variant Hebrew forms.70 My point is that the presence of [[74]] two or more versions of the same basic material in Christian hands does not necessarily mean that the variation originated with the Christians. There are numerous problems of this sort among the pseudepigrapha. Two radically different forms of Testament of Abraham have been preserved.71 The Adam-Eve literature is found in a seemingly endless variety.72 66 See M.P. Brown, The Authentic Writings of St. Ignatius (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1963); W.R. Schoedel, Ignatius of Antioch: A Commentary on the Letters of Ignatius of Antioch (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985) 3–7. 67 See R.A. Kraft, Barnabas and the Didache (1965) 58–9 (online). 68 Ed. O. von Gebhardt, “Die Ascensio Isaiae als Heiligenlegende,” ZWT 21 (1878) 330–53; see the updated description by M.A. Knibb in OTP 2.146. 69 A long form (represented by MT) and a shorter form (at Qumran and OG). For discussion, see E. Tov, “The Literary History of the Book of Jeremiah in the Light of its Textual History,” Empirical Models for Biblical Criticism (ed. J.H. Tigay; Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985) 211–37; and more recently, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992, 20012) 319–27. 70 See A.A. Di Lella, The Hebrew Text of Sirach: A Text-Critical and Historical Study (The Hague: Mouton, 1966); P.W. Skehan and A.A. Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira: A New Translation with Notes (AB 39; New York: Doubleday, 1987) 51–62; Benjamin G. Wright, No Small Difference: Sirach’s Relationship to its Hebrew Parent Text (SBLSCS 26; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989) esp. 1.1. 71 See Chapter Six, below, and more recently E.P. Sanders, OTP 1.871–873. 72 See M.D. Johnson, OTP 2.249-51, with reference also to J.L. Sharpe, Prolegomena to the Establishment of the Critical Text of the Greek Apocalypse of Moses (PhD dissertation, Duke University, 1969). Among related texts mentioned by Johnson are Apocalypse of Moses, Life of Adam and Eve, Cave of Treasures, Combat of Adam and Eve, Testament of Adam and Apocalypse of Adam (p. 250). See also D.A. Bertrand, La vie grecque d’Adam et Eve (Paris: A. Maisonneuve, 1987); W. Lowndes Lipscomb, The Armenian Apocryphal Adam Literature (University of Pennsylvania Armenian Texts and Studies 8; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990); M.E. Stone, A History of the Literature of Adam and Eve (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993).

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Various recensions of the Lives of the Prophets exist.73 There are shorter and longer forms of Paraleipomena Jeremiou.74 “5th Ezra” appears in two significantly different Latin forms.75 How do we know who has made the changes and for what reasons? With regard to writings that have been preserved in a relatively less complicated state, how do we know we are not simply victims of circumstance who have inherited only one stage (the latest?) of a rather lengthy development? By and large, the desired control evidence is inconclusive. Other lines of approach, such as careful linguistic analysis in relation to a wide selection of literature from approximately the same period, need to be carefully explored. There is another type of control that would be very helpful, but strict methodological considerations make it difficult to isolate. I expect that there were self-consciously Christian authors who wrote new works that focused on Jewish persons or traditions and contained no uniquely Christian passages.76 Motives for producing this sort of quasi-Jewish literature would vary from the rather innocent homily on the heroic life of a Job or a Joseph to what we might call premeditated forgery for apocalyptic or hagiographical or some other purposes. But unless we have the testimony of some informed and reliable witness to what is taking place, we have only the evidence contained in the writing itself. And if, by definition, the writing contains no uniquely Christian elements, we will be at a loss to identify it as of Christian origin! [8.5]

[8.6] Of course, we do have witnesses from Christian antiquity who claim

to know that some Christians were forging Jewish pseudepigrapha. It is a polemical claim made and repeated from the late second century

73

See E. Nestle, Marginalien und Materialien (Tübingen: J.J. Heckenhauer, 1893) 1–83; T. Schermann, Prophetarum vitae fabulosae indices apostolorum discipulorumque Domini Dorotheo, Epiphanio, Hippolyto aliisque vindicate (Leipzig: Teubner, 1907); idem, Propheten- und Apostellegenden nebst Jungerkatalogen des Dorotheus und verwandter Texte (TU 31.3; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1907); C.C. Torrey, The Lives of the Prophets: Greek Text and Translation (JBL Monograph Series 1; Philadelphia: SBL, 1946); D.R.A. Hare, OTP 2.379–84. 74 The situation is summarized by S.E. Robinson, OTP 2.413–14, under the title “4 Baruch”(!). See also R.A. Kraft and A.-E. Purintun, Paraleipomena Jeremiou (Missoula: SBL, 1972). 75 See now Bergren, Fifth Ezra (1990). 76 See also Sparks, AOT xiv–xv.

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onward.77 But as with most polemically conditioned claims, we do well to take it with a large lump of salt. The claim is probably accurate to the extent that heterodox groups made [[75]] use of Jewish, or apparently Jewish, pseudepigrapha. But the accusation that the heterodox were actually writing or compiling such works in an original manner can hardly be accepted at face value from witnesses like Irenaeus, Athanasius, and Epiphanius. We only reach a methodological impasse along this avenue of inquiry, although I suspect that the polemicists are at least partly correct! From my perspective, “the Christianity of the Pseudepigrapha” is not the hidden ingredient that needs to be hunted out and exposed in contrast to a supposed native Jewish pre-Christian setting. On the contrary, when the evidence is clear that the material has been preserved only in Christians contexts, the Christianity of it is the given, it is the setting, it is the starting point for delving more deeply into this literature to determine what, if anything, may be safely identified as originally Jewish. And even when the label “originally Jewish” can be attached to some material in the pseudepigrapha, that does not automatically mean pre-Christian Jewish, or even pre-rabbinic Jewish. It might mean post-Jamnian Jewish, rabbinic Jewish or Karaite Jewish, for example; unless one assumes that neither the rabbis nor the Karaites ever reshaped traditions to be more useful for their immediate purposes, it could mean originally Jewish from Islamic times!78

[8.7]

Furthermore, in a Christian setting that is almost obsessed with multiplying examples of God’s righteous athletes who struggled and conquered their demonic opponents in life and even in death, the characteristically Christian elements in a sermon or a narration may be entirely coextensive with possible Jewish interest. In a Christian setting that is self-conscious of its Jewish heritage and thrives on visions and

[8.8]

77 Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.20.1 (Marcosians); Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 3.25; Athanasius, Festal Letter 39; Epiphanius, Panarion 39.5.1 (Sethians), 40.2.1 (Archontics). 78 The possibility of Samaritan Jewish should also be noted. See, for example, Ross S. Kraemer, “Could Aseneth be Samaritan?” A Multiform Heritage: Studies on Early Judaism and Christianity in Honor of Robert A. Kraft (ed. Benjamin G. Wright III; Scholars Press Homage Series 24; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999) 149–65; Davila, Provenance of the Pseudepigrapha (2005), also mentions other possible Jewish-related groups (e.g., “Galileans”), as well as Samaritans.

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revelations, how can one tell whether the predictions and prescriptions found on the mouth of an Adam or Seth were put there by a Jewish or a Christian author? We need to examine the literature as it has been preserved for us, attempt to recreate the conditions under which it was preserved and transmitted, and then perhaps we will be in a position to identify the sort of “Jewishness” it might represent. For the most part, and with significant exceptions (e.g., at least part of the “1 Enoch” anthology), this has not been the normal approach to the pseudepigrapha in recent decades.79 I believe that our knowledge of Christian pluralism has suffered from [[76]] this fact, and although our awareness of early Jewish pluralism has profited, this has been at the expense of methodological rigor and may be paying us an inflated dividend.

79 D.W. Suter, Tradition and Composition in the Parables of Enoch (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1979) 11–33; see also M. de Jonge’s Testaments . . . a Study (1953) and subsequent related publications. Note also M.R. James’ suggestion (above n. 61) that the more “Jewish” sounding version of 5 Ezra might be due to Christian editorial excision of overtly “Christian” elements!

CHAPTER TWO

THE PSEUDEPIGRAPHA AND CHRISTIANITY, REVISITED: SETTING THE STAGE AND FRAMING SOME CENTRAL QUESTIONS1 1. Introduction As those who know me well will understand, I am not usually in favor of simply reading formal prepared papers to groups of informed scholars as a way of advancing study of the topics at hand.2 I think that such an uninterrupted public oral approach often is ineffective, and in any event may be an irresponsible use of available time and resources. Thus I propose to follow up on the excellent general opening remarks made earlier by Dan Harlow,3 to present some additional ideas about the topic, and to encourage input and discussion from the group as we proceed. Perhaps then we can make better progress towards identifying issues that call for closer attention. [[372]] As usual, my focus is on method—on self-conscious and consistent approaches to the subject, exercising as much “control” as possible, by which I mean operating from the more securely known aspects to the more problematic.

1 Based on a presentation made at the SNTS Congress in Tel Aviv, Israel, in August 2000, a version of which appeared in JSJ 32 (2001) 371–95; an updated version has been made available on the internet. 2 The primary background for this discussion is my article drafted for the 1976 SNTS meeting at Duke University a quarter century ago (above, Chapter One). In what appears below, I’m especially grateful for the comments and suggestions from the participants of the 2000 SNTS Seminar, most notably from Jan Willem van Henten, and subsequent to the Seminar from Ross S. Kraemer and Marinus de Jonge. The central point(s) that I want the reader to take from this presentation are that the subject is extremely complex, and in many respects the surface of scholarly research has barely been scratched. In what follows, I attempt to examine various facets of the situation, from various vantage points, and with particular focus on the methodological problems encountered. Relevant literature in the subject area is vast, and I do not try to do much more here than to give some pointers to recent research. I apologize for the repetitions, which reflect my frustrations in finding effective ways to approach this complex subject. 3 “The Christianization of Early Jewish Pseudepigrapha: The Case of 3 Baruch,” JSJ 32 (2001) 416–44.

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With most of the materials of interest for this study—“Jewish sources”—our main avenue of discovery starts in Christian contexts. That is, with rare exceptions provided mainly by discovery of ancient manuscripts (most notably the Dead Sea Scrolls) and by continuous Jewish transmission, our knowledge of “Jewish sources” relating to the period of Christian origins comes through Christian interests and transmission. While this fact is widely recognized, it is not always taken seriously in the study of those materials. For example, while we are often warned—quite appropriately—that the rabbinic Jewish sources are relatively “late” in their preserved forms and therefore can only be used with great care and caution in the study of Christian origins, the same sort of methodological circumspection seldom is voiced with regard to the use of the “pseudepigrapha” and related materials, which are often also relatively “late” as we find them in their preserved forms and have come to us through clearly Christian hands and interests. (For examples see further below.) This does not mean that it is impossible to use such materials to “get back” to the earlier period that may be the focus of our interest, any more than the rabbinic sources should be considered irrelevant or impervious for such purposes. What it does mean is that similar care is necessary in determining how to use these materials responsibly. They are, first of all, “Christian” materials, and recognition of that fact is a necessary step in using them appropriately in the quest to throw light on early Judaism. I call this the “default” position—sources transmitted by way of Christian communities are “Christian,” whatever else they may also prove to be. This is not a new insight, as is clear from reading many of the pioneers of the study of these materials (e.g., Batiffol, M.R. James, Harnack).4 But it is an insight that tends to get lost as scholarly confidence grows [[373]] in our ability to recognize what is “Jewish” (or otherwise nonChristian) in the sources. Yet that ability, as with all historical research, is not something static. New discoveries and new insights change the playing field in various ways, sometimes almost imperceptibly, some-

4 See Pierre Batiffol, “Le Livre de la Prière d’Aseneth,” Studia patristica: Études d’ancienne littérature chrétienne (vol. 1.2; Paris: Leroux, 1899–90) 1–115; Montague Rhodes James, “Introduction” to R.L. Bensly’s edition of The Fourth Book of Ezra (TS 3.2; Cambridge: CUP, 1895); Adolf Harnack, Geschichte 1.2 (1893; 2nd ed. reprinted Leipzig: Hindrichs, 1958); “Übersicht über die von den Christen angeeignete und zum Theil bearbeitete jüdische Literatur,” 845–65.

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times quite radically, so that what were once considered to be clear and firm results of scholarship require re-evaluation in the light of more recent information and approaches. This is what I sometimes refer to as the “methodological spiral” with which we operate—it is not a circular argumentation5 insofar as each new piece of evidence can modify our understanding so that we can ask the same questions from a slightly (or sometimes radically) different vantage point.6 For our present study, for example, the meanings of “early Jewish” and of “Christian” are in some ways significantly different from what they may have been the last time around on the spiral of responsible and informed research. The bottom line, at this point in the discussion, is that with reference to sources preserved and used by the Christian traditions, the “default” position is that they must first be understood within their Christian contexts as the starting point for attempting to use them responsibly for purposes of determining their possible contributions to our knowledge of earlier Jewish contexts. The burden of proof lies with claims of Jewishness, and the route to establishing the probability of early Jewish connections is complex and fraught with problems both regarding definitions/assumptions (method) and regarding reliable information (data). 2. Framework of the Seminar Discussion In an attempt to provide a detailed overview of the issues, I presented a preliminary grid on the large chalkboard in the seminar room. It called attention to three main areas of concern: (1) methodological issues in modern scholarship, (2) types of early Christian treatment of “Jewish” materials, and (3) types of relevant ancient sources (as well as [[374]] recent studies) available for the investigation. Further observations were invited from the participants:

5 For example, it would be circular to argue (and also begs the question) that a certain text that shows concern for the fate of Jerusalem must be Jewish since we know from such texts that concern for the fate of Jerusalem was a characteristically Jewish feature (and presumably would not be of interest to Christians)! 6 In our example, if the text at hand shows interest in the fate of Jerusalem and comes to us by way of Christian transmission, this suggests that some Christians may indeed have had an interest in that subject and that the text (and others like it) may even have originated in such a milieu.

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chapter two 1. Methodological Issues:

motivations/interests definitions/assumptions controls analogy

2. Types of Treatment:

faithful & complete faithful selections revisions new compositions

3. Types of Sources:

“scriptural” apocalyptic prophetic/oracular hymns/prayers commentary hagiographic homiletic chronographic ethical

2.1. Methodological Issues With reference to modern research and researchers, why do we care about these issues and materials? Some of us may be looking for clues about early Judaism and are impatient about the process by which such information is uncovered. Others may want to concentrate on early Christian interfaces with Judaism (positive, negative or neutral) and are content to focus their investigations on that period, without much reference to what may have preceded or followed. Still others may be mainly interested in the adoption and adaptation of these materials into ongoing Christianity, long after the period of presumed origins and of initial tensions with Judaism has passed. Our conclusions are often dictated to some extent by our interests, although we may not always be self-conscious of that fact. The group briefly explored the related problem of definitions and assumptions. Arguments are often determined in advance by how one defines such terms as “Christian,” “Jewish,” “original text,” “recension,” etc. Sometimes the categories, even when carefully defined, can overlap in confusing ways (see below on Boyarin’s recent discussion of martyrology!). Assumptions about attitudes to “scriptural” authority or to the establishment of “the canon” often color arguments [[375]] unduly (and anachronistically). If we really believe that Christians appropriated their selection of Jewish scriptures and saw themselves as legitimate owners and protectors—as standing and participating in that tradition—why

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should it be difficult to believe that Christians could produce “Jewish” sounding supporting materials? A third area of methodological concern is the search for firm evidence on which to base arguments, and the appropriate use of analogies to extend arguments beyond the firm controls. For example, we have the plethora of Dead Sea Scroll materials that almost certainly comes from a halakhically rigorous apocalyptically oriented early Jewish milieu in Palestine and that includes fragments of some writings otherwise known only from much later Christian copies and/or translations (e.g., the Enoch materials, Jubilees, Tobit, Epistle of Jeremiah). Can we legitimately argue from such control cases that other similar writings that are not represented among the surviving DSS probably were, by analogy, also present in that sort of Jewish Palestinian milieu?7 Or how comfortable can we be with sociological arguments about millennial communities in the early Jewish and early Christian worlds being analogous in certain otherwise unattested regards to apparently similar groups that exist in the modern world and have been studied directly by modern scholars?8 It is important to be aware of the types of evidence available as well as the sorts of arguments used to move beyond the details to synthetic reconstructions. 2.2. Types of Early Christian Treatment of “Jewish” Materials With regard to early Christian treatment of “Jewish” materials, a range of theoretical possibilities exists and sometimes can be verified in the preserved texts. Clearly there were faithful copies made and [[376]] transmitted for centuries of some Jewish writings including but not limited to what came to be considered “canonical” Jewish scriptures. There also exist some “composite” Christian productions that include

7

Albert Sundberg, for example, in his essay “ ‘The Old Testament of the Early Church’ Revisited” (Festschrift in Honor of Charles Speel, ed. Thomas J. Sienkewicz and James E. Betts, published by Monmouth College Illinois, 1996: also available online at http://department.monm.edu/classics/Speel_Festschrift/) comments that “Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha utilized by early Christians but not found at Qumran include: Apocrypha: 1, 2 Esdras, additions to Esther, Wisdom of Solomon, Baruch, Prayer of Azariah, Song of the Three Young Men, Susanna, Bel and the Dragon, 1, 2 Maccabees; Pseudepigrapha: Letter of Aristeas, the Books of Adam and Eve, the Martyrdom of Isaiah, the Sibylline Oracles, the Assumption of Moses, the Book of the Secrets of Enoch, Baruch, Greek and Syriac Apocalypses of, 4 Ezra, Psalms of Solomon, 4 Maccabees.” Other titles could be added to the list as well. 8 See note 12 in my “Pseudepigrapha” article (above, Chapter One) for references to such approaches, including more recent literature to about 1990.

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discrete segments of Jewish sources, juxtaposed with other materials (e.g., the “Odes” anthology that circulated alongside the scriptural Psalms);9 these are also “faithful” copies, but have been incorporated into new contexts. Examples of originally Jewish writings that have been revised to include Christian interests also are almost certainly represented—the evidence ranges from relatively minor text-critical adaptations to more extensive “recensional” activity (e.g., Assumption of Isaiah, Paraleipomena Jeremiou, Didache’s Two Ways section, parts of Sibylline Oracles).10 What is more difficult to illustrate is the end of the spectrum that would identify “original” Christian compositions of an apparently “Jewish” sort. Perhaps, at least, some works of prayer and/or praise would be obvious candidates. 2.3. Types of Relevant Ancient Sources As for the presumably ancient data and their transmission history, recent studies help illustrate how little we really know. Clearly there were many varieties of early Christian groups (as also of Jewish groups, not to mention Christian/Jewish groups, and of course individuals who may or may not conform to any group, and groups that might be the main defining category and included Jewish and/or Christian members,

9 These Odes are normally included with the biblical Psalms in editions of the LXX/ OG—e.g., in A. Rahlfs, Psalmi cum Odis, vol. 10 of the Göttingen Septuagint (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1931 [corrected edition 1967]), and in the 2 volume Septuaginta edited by Rahlfs (1935 and subsequent corrected editions from the Würtembergische Bibelanstalt in Stuttgart). 10 Recent studies of these works include: Enrico Norelli, L’Ascensione di Isaia: Studi su un apocrifo al crocevia dei cristianesimi (Origini/CISEC, Centro interdipartimentale di studi sull’ebraismo e sul cristianesimo antico, Universita degli studi di Bologna, nuova ser. 1; Bologna: EDB, 1994); Mauro Pesce, ed., Isaia, il diletto e la chiesa: visione ed esegesi profetica cristiano-primitiva nell’Ascensione di Isaia (Atti del convegno di Roma, 9–10 aprile 1981; Brescia: Paideia, 1983); Mauro Pesce, Il “Martirio di Isaia” non esiste: l’Ascensione di Isaia et le tradizioni giudaiche sull’uccisione del profeta (Centro Stampa Baiesi, 1984). Jens Herzer, Die Paralipomena Jeremiae: Studien zu Tradition und Redaktion einer Haggada des frühen Judentums (TSAJ 43; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1994) and Fourth Baruch (Paraleipomena Jeremiou). Translated with an Introduction and Commentary (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 2005); Bernd Schaller, Paralipomena Jeremiou (JSHRZ 1/8; Gütersloh: Gerd Mohn, 1998) 659–777; JSP Issue 22 (2000) [entirely devoted to Par.Jer.]; A. Momigliano, “From the Pagan to the Christian Sibyl,” The Uses of Greek and Latin: Historical Essays (ed. A.C. Dionisotti, Anthony Grafton and Jill Kraye; Warburg Institute Surveys and Texts 16; London: Warburg Institute, University of London, 1988) 3–18; H.W. van der Sandt and D. Flusser, The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (Assen: van Gorcum, 2002). See further the DiTommaso Bibliography (2001).

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such as “magic practitioners,” astronomers, or educators and literati of various sorts), each perhaps with its own attitudes towards Jewish materials. We have little information on the dynamics that may have existed within and among [[377]] such groups, including any motivation to appropriate, adapt or even formulate “Jewish” materials. Some recent studies that suggest fresh approaches to some of these problems will be noted in more detail below. We can identify various streams of traditions of Jewish pedigree that flourish, or at least survive, in Christian circles alongside of what comes to be considered “scriptural.” Should we attempt to develop and apply different criteria to the study of each? We find apocalyptic continuities (e.g., 4 Ezra, 2–3 Baruch, 6 Ezra), prophetic and oracular pronouncements (e.g., 5 Ezra, Sibylline Oracles), hymnody and prayers (e.g., “extracanonical” Psalms, Apostolic Constitutions 8), scriptural interpretation (e.g., Philo), hagiography/martyrology (e.g., 4 Maccabees, Lives of Prophets), homilization and storytelling (e.g., on Joseph and his asceticism, Jeremiah’s fate, tales of the patriarchs), attention to chronography and antiquity (e.g., Jubilees, Josephus), ethics (e.g., the “Two Ways” traditions), perhaps even “magic.”11 The Christian development of “Dialogues with Jews” claims to connect to Jewish source materials but seems to take on a life of its own; its history may provide some clues to how some Christians treated Jewish sources. What are we to 11 Some of these genres and/or themes have received some attention recently: e.g., apocalyptic and prophetic materials—T. Bergren, Fifth Ezra (1990) and Sixth Ezra: the Text and Origin (New York: OUP, 1998); J.W. Marshall on the NT book of Revelation (see below, nn. 15 and 35); Dan Harlow (above, n. 3); martyrology—G.W. Bowersock, Martyrdom and Rome (Cambridge: CUP 1995); Jan Willem van Henten, “Zum Einfluss jüdischer Martyrien auf die Literatur des frühen Christentums (2: Die Apostolischen Väter),” Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt II:27/1 (ed. W. Haase and H. Temporini; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1993) 700–23; also “The Martyrs as Heroes of the Christian People: Some Remarks on the Continuity between Jewish and Christian Martyrology, with Pagan Analogies,” Martyrium in Multidisciplinary Perspective (ed. M. Lamberigts and P. van Deun; BETL 117; Leuven: Peeters, 1995) 303–22; van Henten and Friedrich Avemarie, Martyrdom and Noble Death: Selected Texts from Graeco-Roman, Jewish and Christian Antiquity (London and New York: Routledge, 2002); D. Boyarin, Dying for God: Martyrdom and the Making of Christianity and Judaism (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1999); tales and traditions of various sorts—Ross S. Kraemer, When Aseneth Met Joseph: A Late Antique Tale of the Biblical Patriarch and His Egyptian Wife, Revisited (Oxford: OUP, 1998); James Kugel, In Potiphar’s House: the Interpretive Life of Biblical Texts (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1990) and Traditions of the Bible: a Guide to the Bible as it was at the Start of the Common Era (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998); see also n. 10 above on Paralipomena Jeremiou. This listing can be expanded greatly by consulting DiTommaso’s Bibliography (2001), and through internet searches.

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do with Epiphanius’ bold claims about the Jewish convert to Christianity, “count” Joseph, and the Jerusalem Hebrew archives he allegedly accessed? What sorts of texts were available in the Jewish Christian communities mentioned by Jerome? [[378]] Asking the questions is relatively easy, but developing reasonable approaches to such wide-ranging materials takes much care and effort. As already noted above, it is not only a question of the history of relatively homogeneous and discrete documents, but also of different sorts of collections and compositions, from the fairly mechanically juxtaposed library such as 1 Enoch or the Odes to relatively more amalgamated examples of various sorts. At the level of textual detail, is it sometimes possible to determine when “Christian” scribal activities are responsible for particular phenomena? When we encounter texts that have been translated, can we determine what sorts of translators were involved and what they might have contributed to possible transformations of the texts?12 And what can be said about those texts that have survived in two or more distinct “recensions”? Can we identify the Jewish or Christian affiliation of certain editors? By what criteria, and with what controls?13 3. In Other Words: A More Orderly Restatement of the Situation So much for attempting to chart or briefly to identify the main problems. What can be done, or hoped for, from this vantage point? Christians made various uses of pre-Christian Jewish (and other) materials. By “Christians” I mean people who considered themselves to be adherents of Jesus whom they viewed as God’s “Messiah/Christ” and, in the context of religion, the most significant being to have entered

12

Occasionally we can catch a glimpse of the process, as with the 6th century Syriac translation of the Aseneth materials; see Kraemer, Aseneth, 225. On translation issues more generally, see William Adler, “Ad verbum or ad sensum: the Christianization of a Latin Translation Formula in the Fourth Century,” Pursuing the Text: Studies in Honor of Ben Zion Wacholder on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (ed. J.C. Reeves and J. Kampen; JSOTSup 184; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994) 321–48. 13 See, for example, M.E. Stone, “The Study of Armenian Apocrypha,” A Multiform Heritage: Studies on Early Judaism and Christianity in Honor of Robert A. Kraft (ed. B.G. Wright; Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1999) 139–48; J.C. Reeves, “Reconsidering the ‘Prophecy of Zardust,’ ” in ibidem, 167–82 (with reference to Manichaean materials and traditions); and on recensional issues, my own essay “Reassessing the ‘Recensional Problem’ in Testament of Abraham” (below, Chapter Six).

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the human realm. By “Jewish” I refer to people who saw themselves in continuity with the traditions associated with Moses and ancient Israel and with communities known as “Jewish” in their world. It is not incompatible for a person to be both Jewish and Christian, in this [[379]] definitional situation, but as persons in Christian communities come to see themselves as more and more distinct from other connections, Jewish or non-Jewish, that aspect of the definitional problem simplifies.14 Christians who self-identified as “Jewish” produced literature of various sorts, from the letters of Paul to collections of Jesus traditions (Gospels of the Hebrews, Nazarenes, Ebionites, etc.) to adaptations of apocalyptic materials (e.g., Apocalypse of John, probably),15 and doubtless various other productions. To the extent that it is possible to identify these Christian Jewish contributions, I will not include them in the following discussion but will try to focus on the afterlife of probably “pre-Christian” or early “non-Christian” materials (while unavoidably slipping here and there). Many of these pre- or non-Christian Jewish sources were copied and transmitted for centuries in Christian contexts without significant modification. This can be easily verified with regard to Jewish scriptural writings and to many other works such as most of the “apocrypha” and some of the “pseudepigrapha,” notably those attested among the Dead Sea Scrolls. The practice of copying such things faithfully is not only demonstrable from these surviving whole texts for which we have virtually identical pre- or non-Christian copies, but also from the quotations and long excerpts that appear in various contexts, from occasional, almost incidental usage to organized anthologies such as “testimony books” and more substantive efforts like Eusebius’ Preparation for the Gospel. Some Christians also copied and transmitted “pagan” writings

14

Definitions are necessarily arbitrary, and my preference is to focus on self-identifications (when they can be detected) and minimal requirements otherwise. Literature on the subject is vast. For a sampling of struggles with these issues, see my “Judaism on the World Scene,” The Catacombs and the Colosseum (ed. S. Benko and J.J. O’Rourke; Valley Forge: Judson, 1971) 81–98 [also online]; and more recently, S.J.D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (Hellenistic Culture and Society 31; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999); Boyarin, Dying for God (1999); John Gager, Reinventing Paul (Oxford: OUP, 2000). 15 On the question of the “Jewish” authorship of the Apocalypse, also known as Revelation, see John W. Marshall, Parables of War: Reading John’s Jewish Apocalypse (Studies in Christianity and Judaism 10; Waterloo, Ont.: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2001).

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of various sorts, which need to be taken into account when arguments are made attempting to connect the impetus to accuracy in copying with Christian concepts of scriptual authority.16 [[380]] Certain texts seem to have sufficiently strong secondary attestation to be treated as carefully copied pre- or non-Christian Jewish writings. The early and sometimes extensive references to Josephus as a source for Jewish history create a presumption in favor of accepting the relatively late and clearly Christian copies of his works as reliable—with allowances, of course, for a suspicious passage here and there;17 similarly Philo. And the correspondences between Josephus and most of 1 Maccabees increase the probability that the latter is equally Jewish in origin, if early Christian claims to that effect fail to convince.18 The remaining “apocrypha” also find secondary attestation in early Christian sources, even if the extant MSS appear to be from Christian hands, and often very late. Again, clear evidence of Christian textual tampering is difficult to find in these texts, thus underlining the possibility that responsible transmission has occurred in similar, but less well documented, instances. Some pre-Christian Jewish sources, such as those included in the Greek “Odes,” were rather mechanically placed alongside materials that were revered as characteristically Christian, much as the Jewish “OT” writings came to be juxtaposed with “NT” writings when the megacodex technology made it possible in the fourth century. The Greek Odes often circulated along with the biblical collection of Psalms; the Odes include poetic passages from the Christian Gospels along with poetic selections from Jewish scriptures. Of course, from the relevant Christian perspective there is probably nothing unusual about this. All

16 There are some easy cases. For what I prefer to call “Jewish scriptures,” we have non-Christian manuscripts and fragments in Hebrew and Aramaic, and sometimes even in Greek. We can judge how faithful the Christian copyists have been by comparing those copies with the others—our problem becomes a matter of textual criticism. And on the whole, there is virtually no evidence of overt Christianization in these control cases. Does that fact make it easier to treat similarly, by analogy, other possibly or even apparently pre-Christian Jewish texts for which similar non-Christian evidence is not present? Sometimes, but not always. And how do I determine the most responsible approach? 17 On problematic passages such as the reference to Jesus, see above Chapter One, n. 63, and below, at n. 19. 18 On “Josephus and 1 Maccabees,” see I. Gafni in Josephus, the Bible and History (ed. L.H. Feldman et al.; Leiden: Brill, 1989) 116–31.

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such scriptures came to be considered Christian property. Probably similar attitudes underlie the development of hagiographical sources, where holy people from the amalgamated Jewish-Christian traditions are revered side by side; and similarly with the development of ethical handbooks such as the Two Ways material (used by Barnabas and the Didache) and its relatives and descendants. Pre- or non-Christian Jewish materials also were reworked in Christian hands in ways that rather clearly betrayed the Christian contribution, through explicit reverence for Jesus, or the mention of characteristic Christian themes such as the trinity. Sometimes this phenomenon occurred in the copying of texts and can be witnessed through textcritical [[381]] comparisons, where one manuscript or family contains the Christian adaptation while other witnesses do not. A notorious example is the laudatory passage about Jesus in extant Greek MSS of Josephus (Ant 18.[3].63f), which is lacking in an Arabic witness and is inconsistent with what else we know about Josephus—although in the 18th century, Whiston could argue that it was authentic and helped prove that Josephus was a Christian.19 On a smaller scale, something similar can be seen in 4 Ezra 7.28, where most versions refer to “Messiah,” but the Latin has “Jesus.” Examples could be multiplied.20 This shows that while Christians copied many texts without significant alteration, this was not true of all. Pre-Christian Jewish materials also were reworked in Christian hands so that the lines between source and appropriation have become blurred, making it difficult to determine what was old and what newer material. It is clear that the extant recensions of the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs contain much pre-Christian Jewish material, and even preserve a literary form that is quite ancient. It is equally clear that in the preserved texts, Christian interests sometimes have left their mark, at least in one or another recension, complicating the question of the compositional “origins” of what has survived. Similar observations can be made with the material now bundled under the title Ascension of Isaiah, or with Paraleipomena Jeremiou, or with the collected Lives of 19 William Whiston’s translation and notes (1736) live on in updated forms (e.g., the Hendrickson edition of 1987) and on the internet. In his “Appendix: Dissertation 1,” Whiston argues the case for Josephus as a (Jewish) Christian. The Arabic text that lacks the laudatory wording was published by S. Pines (see my “Pseudepigrapha,” Chapter One above, note 63 for this and related references). 20 This and some other examples are discussed in my “Transmission” (Chapter Three below pp. 64–74).

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the Prophets, or the Adam/Eve compositions, among other texts.21 It is this last category of materials that has especially captured the attention of scholars who attempt to distil as much information as possible from [[382]] the extant sources about the Jewish settings that produced and/or strongly influenced the early developments in Christianity. One of the issues worth discussing is whether any clearer guidelines have emerged in recent decades for determining what can or cannot be considered as pre- or non-Christian in these situations, or for that matter, what can be considered clearly Christian?22 4. Some Selected Details—Towards a Renewed Effort The following three “exhibits” attempt to provide a sampling of different ways in which some Christians handled Jewish texts they had received. Exhibit 1: accurate text but improbable interpretation: Slightly more than a century ago, the description of the “Therapeutae” found in the Philonic tractate On the Contemplative Life was dismissed by Licius (1879) as a late 3rd century Christian forgery in Philo’s name in support of the emergence of Christian monasticism. As David Runia reports in his masterful study of Philo in Early Christian Literature, “his thesis received the seal of approval from the eminent triad of German 21 Relevant literature is voluminous and many of the earlier treatments are listed in my “Pseudepigrapha” article (above, Chapter One), especially nn. 3 (Testaments), 68 (Ascension of Isaiah and related texts), 72 (Adam/Eve traditions), 73 (Lives of the Prophets), and 74 (Paraleipomena Jeremiou). For more recent studies, see above n. 10 and also Marinus de Jonge, Jewish Eschatology, Early Christian Christology, and the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: Collected Essays (NTSup 63; Leiden: Brill, 1991); Robert G. Hall, “The Ascension of Isaiah: Community Situation, Date, and Place in Early Christianity,” JBL 109 (1990) 289–306 (see also JBL 113 [1994] 463–84); Jonathan Knight, The Ascension of Isaiah (Guides to Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995); Marinus de Jonge, “The Christian Origin of the Greek Life of Adam and Eve,” Literature on Adam and Eve: Collected Essays (ed. G. Anderson, M.E. Stone and J. Tromp; Leiden: Brill, 2000) 347–63, and the literature there cited (especially de Jonge and Tromp, The Life of Adam and Eve and Related Literature [Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997]); David Satran, Biblical Prophets in Byzantine Palestine: Reassessing the Lives of the Prophets (SVTP 11; Leiden: Brill, 1995); Anna Maria Schwemer, Vitae Prophetarum (JSHRZ 1/7; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1997) [based on her Studien zu den frühjüdischen Prophetenlegenden Vitae Prophetarum I–II (TSAJ 49–50; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1995–1996)]. 22 See now Davila, Provenance of the Pseudepigrapha (2005).

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scholars, Zeller, Harnack and Schürer.” Even Conybeare’s 1895 refutation “did not persuade all scholars (most notably not Schürer).”23 Yet today this blip on the screen of scholarly repartee goes largely unnoticed. Why? Was there not good reason to question the existence of such a body of monastics in the pleasant rural areas to the west of Alexandria at such an early date? Eusebius had treated this account as proof of early Christian monastic/ascetic presence in Egypt, and even reported that Philo had met with Peter in a trip to Rome. Eusebius concludes: “It is clear to everyone that Philo wrote these things after [[383]] he had encountered the first heralds of the teaching which accords with the gospel and the customs handed down to the apostles from the beginning” (HE 2.17.24). Eusebius explains at some length just what Christian practices are being mentioned, even what scriptural texts are being read by the Therapeutae. Yet when Eusebius actually gives excerpts from Philo’s tractate, they are in agreement with the preserved textual tradition and lacking in any obvious Christianized insertions or manipulations. Can we learn anything useful from this situation?24 Exhibit 2: from margins to text, reshaping in reproducing: Some relatively early manuscripts of the Song of Songs include headings, rubrics describing the perceived thrust of the following section of text. The interpretation is clearly Christian—“Christ” is seen as a participant in the drama, and is explicitly named as such. Whether this format reflects an older tradition is discussable.25 This is similar to the situation with Eusebius and the Therapeutae, except that it provides a

23

D.T. Runia, Philo in Early Christian Literature, 32. Issues worth exploring include: explicit copying in relation to perceived meaning (commentary) in antiquity; the role of perceived historical contexts (what is or is not considered possible) as a basis for modern scholarly evaluation; the influence of modern interests (e.g., in marginalizing monasticism, as has been claimed regarding Licius’ motives) on scholarly conclusions. David Runia also reports on how later Christians used Eusebius’ report, including various modifications of the content, to emphasize the Christian aspects (Philo in Early Christian Literature, 227–31). In addition, the fact that all of our main MSS of Philo’s writings have been transmitted by Christians complicates the matter of evaluating the accuracy of Eusebius’ excerpts. It is highly probable that Eusebius knew and used a text that agrees with the later MSS, but it is not demonstrable that there had been no Christian editing of the text before it reached Eusebius. 25 See Jay C. Treat, “Lost Keys: Text and Interpretation in Old Greek Song of Songs and its Earliest Manuscript Witnesses” (PhD Dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 1996). 24

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much easier step from the textual “incidentals” to later copies of the text itself. Examples could be multiplied.26 Exhibit 3: creating and recreating: In the “Greek Apocalypse of Ezra,” which is preserved in a relatively late Christian textual form full of ideas and phraseology that have parallels in a wide range of archaic Jewish sounding texts, we find both [[384]] simple textual issues (e.g., “race of men” genos ANWN [abbreviated by overline] sometimes apparently becomes “race of Christians” genos XNWN [abbreviated by overline]) and we find passages such as at the start of ch. 7: “Hear, Ezra my beloved—I who am immortal took up a cross, tasted vinegar and gall, and was put into a grave. And I raised up my elect and called up Adam from Hades so that the race of men [would not languish there (the text has a lacuna)].” This material cries out for careful text-critical attention, but for the moment let it serve as an example of apparently “Jewish” material expanded in clearly “Christian” directions. As has been noted, it is not alone.27 5. The Larger Problem in General: From Jewish Texts to Christian Contexts Apart from the Dead Sea Scrolls and some early rabbinic materials, very few actual manuscripts of Jewish writings have survived from the period prior to the 8th century ce that were not transmitted by Christian copyists and users.28 Sometimes the literature transmitted by Christians contains passages that clearly reveal Christian interests or

26 More strictly text-critical in nature are examples from the Testament of Asher 7.3 (“concerning the Christ”), which probably attests a move from margin to text in the witnesses that include it; or 4 Ezra 7.28 (mentioned above) where “my son Messiah” becomes “my son Jesus” in the Latin; or Lives of the Prophets: 2 Jeremiah, predicting a virgin birth, perhaps deriving from a marginal comment in the manuscript tradition. 27 The use of the figure Ezra in medieval Christian circles is fascinating in itself. For a recent convenient introduction to that material, see M.E. Stone, “A New Edition and Translation of the Questions of Ezra,” Solving Riddles and Untying Knots: Biblical, Epigraphic, and Semitic Studies in Honor of Jonas C. Greenfield (ed. Z. Zevit, S. Gitin, and M. Sokoloff; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1995) 293–94. See also E. Ann Matter, “The ‘Revelatio Esdrae’ in Latin and English Traditions” (1982) 376–92. 28 There are some Greek biblical fragments (papyri and parchment), and some nonbiblical Cairo Geniza fragments also qualify (e.g., Ben Sira, Damascus Document, Sefer ha Razim); possibly also 3 Enoch.

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expressions that are not likely to have been possible prior to the advent of Christianity in its various forms and permutations. Sometimes there are problematic passages that some interpreters see as “Christian” while others consider them to be “Jewish.” Why care? What is at stake? The answers to such a basic question vary widely, even when posed in an academic scholarly setting such as this. For those interested in recovering as much as possible about the earliest manifestations of “Judaism(s),” especially in “pre-Christian” or “non-Christian” settings, the payload is obvious. Sometimes the desire to know clouds the process, and materials that for some reason seem essentially “Jewish” are assumed to be so until proved otherwise. On another curve in the methodological spiral are scholars whose primary interest is in knowing as much as possible about the “Christian” circles that preserved and presumably found some value in such [[385]] materials, and for such people—if I may oversimplify for the moment—the materials are “Christian” until proven otherwise. There are, of course, as we have already noted, various in-between-positions in which one talks about original Jewish sources that are reshaped in Christian contexts (recensions), or about old texts that are “interpolated” somewhat mechanically (textual variation), or the like. Some investigators are interested in continuities, others more in discontinuities or divergences. As is true in such human endeavors, our answers are usually shaped by our motivating interests and by our prior perceptions about how things must have worked. Philo’s Therapeutae could not have existed, at least not the way Eusebius understood the materials. But we now understand the report differently. It should come as no surprise that whatever one’s motivating interest may be, the path to convincing conclusions is strewn with nearly insurmountable obstacles. Clear communication even among the most responsible scholars is difficult since such basic terms as “Jewish” and “Christian” are slippery at best and can vary widely over time and in differing cultural and geographical locations. A provocative assessment of the situation can be found in the introduction to Daniel Boyarin’s recent studies Dying for God (above, n. 11). Although he seems to me clearly to overstate the case, Boyarin’s emphasis on “the permeability of the borders between so-called Judaism and so-called Christianity in late antiquity” (21) reminds us of the dangers of making simplistic judgments regarding origins, influences, and adaptations in the literature that concerns us. Our labels are often inadequate and can be seriously misleading. We don’t know what relevant varieties of “Judaism” existed

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in antiquity, nor do we know the range of early “Christianities”; with rare exceptions, we don’t know whether or how such communities drew their “borders” or related to each other. And we know even less about all but a few of the various specific individuals whose activities made it possible for us to speak of “communities.” The simple older approach that easily drew distinct lines back from the developed, authoritative “orthodoxies” of the 4th century and later, whether “rabbinic” Jewish or Classical Christian, has long been known to be inadequate, even if its ghost still haunts us more often than we might like. 6. A Search for Controls What does this mean in practical terms, for our scholarly interests? Surely there are indicators that by definition must be called “Christian” [[386]] (even if, with a Boyarin, we might sometimes modify the classification to “Christian Jewish,” and for the “transitional period” of Paul and his contemporaries, we might feel very uncomfortable about the arbitrariness of such labeling)29 such as clear references to Jesus as Lord and/or savior, or to the miraculous/mysterious birth of Jesus, or to the blessed trinity, or to the categorical perfidy of the “Jews,” and the like. But what would constitute clearly “Jewish” indicators, apart from what seem to be polemical anti-Christian materials such as in the Toledot Yeshu?30 Appropriation of pre-Christian Jewish sources and ideas is clear and demonstrable in later, self-consciously non-Jewish

29 The definitional crisis created by appeal to the participants’ self-understanding is unavoidable. Paul understands himself to be Jewish and deserves to be taken seriously in that context; at the same time, he is also self-consciously a follower of Jesus as Messiah/Christ in a sense that will become increasingly more difficult to hold in tension as the eschatological end fails to arrive and the various ongoing communities come into greater competition and conflict, for various reasons. There is evidence that a similarly dual self-understanding may have survived for a long time in some areas (see Jerome’s reports of “Jewish Christians” [see below, Chapter Four, n. 13]), but in the GrecoRoman world(s) reflected in most of our surviving sources, it seems to have had less staying power. At the start of this essay, I chose to avoid this area of ambiguity, but it needs to be kept in mind as a further complicating factor. For some recent pertinent studies, see especially the literature on Paul, such as: Alan Segal, Paul the Convert: The Apostolate and Apostasy of Saul the Pharisee (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990); Daniel Boyarin, A Radical Jew: Paul and the Politics of Identity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994); John G. Gager, Reinventing Paul (Oxford: OUP, 2000). 30 Basic information on Toledot Yeshu/Jeshu is available online including relevant materials from the “Jesus” article in the Jewish Encyclopedia 7 (by “S[amuel] Kr[auss]”; 1901–1906).

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“Christian” contexts, such as Eusebius and his successors. Part of the question before us is the extent to which self-conscious “Christians” who do not see themselves as also “Jewish” may have produced/originated such apparently “Jewish” materials. Nor is it beyond the pale of possibility that in some instances, originally non-Jewish “Christian” materials may have been modified by (Christian) Jewish hands, just as probably happened to some “pagan” materials (e.g., in the “Jewish” Sibyllines). Amid such complexities, the “safe” approach, if one wishes to be methodologically responsible, would be to start with the extant MSS and work from there. Thus the “default” position would be that MSS transmitted by self-conscious Christians are “Christian” until proved otherwise. And in some instances, it is not at all difficult to prove otherwise. Some Christians were clearly capable of copying pre- or non-Christian texts accurately, just as some Christians were able to reproduce excerpts from earlier materials without interjecting their Christian interests—even when they did not really understand the material! There are situations in which respect for the text as something to [[387]] be reproduced is clearly at work, whether that is expressed in quotation formulae, or simply by making a complete copy. Concern for accurate transmission is by no means foreign to the early Jewish/ Christian world(s).31 Among the “pseudepigrapha,” things get much more murky. The Dead Sea Scroll fragments remove any major questions about the preChristian status of Jubilees and most of the collection we call “1 Enoch,” although the problem of the origins of the Parables/Similitudes section continues to be debated. If I permit myself to argue from analogy, there is no good reason not to consider that section as also Jewish in origin, but the evidence is not as decisive. And the danger of circularity in argumentation begins to become a factor: I can create a believable nonChristian Jewish context that could have produced this material, but must I do so? Should I do so? It is very tempting to do so, and in the interests of creating and testing hypotheses, it needs to happen, while also kept in perspective.32 On the other hand, I don’t need to create a

31 Perhaps Rev 22.18–9 is relevant here, especially as an example of awareness of modification in the context of materials (apocalyptic traditions) that are not noted for being quotation conscious. 32 I am not arguing against such attempts at hypothetical reconstruction, only that they should not take precedence over understanding the text as it comes to us. For

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context of Christian usage—that is a given. It is the safe default position. The same sorts of things could also be said of Philo’s Therapeutae, since that text also is “Christian” by default! But there, at least, a fairly consistent linguistic corpus exists for close examination and comparison. Philo’s On the Contemplative Life does not stand in isolation. As we move into more of the collected traditions about Jewish revered figures, things become even more difficult. What shall I do with the Testaments of the 12 Patriarchs? I can try to divide and conquer, exercising my source-critical as well as text-critical arguments on this complex body of materials, but I’m still left with relatively late and quite popular texts of Christian provenance, with little guarantee that significant adjustment and enhancement has not taken place in Christian hands. Yes, there may be clearly pre-Christian Jewish examples of the genre, but that is hardly a convincing solution to the complex problem. The situation is similar with Lives of the Prophets, in which the layers of evolution sometimes seem to be visible and extend to what seems to [[388]] be clearly Christian activity. With the collections now associated with Isaiah (Testament-Ascension) and Jeremiah (Paralipomena), the argument could be made that the clearly Christian passages have been tacked onto the end of probably Jewish materials in an almost mechanical fashion, although unfortunately, few other similar writings exhibit that precise pattern.33 The case can be made that even some writings preserved only in secondary or tertiary translations have survived without significant Christian tampering. Jubilees and the library of 1 Enoch have already been mentioned, but why not also Slavonic Enoch (2 Enoch)? Systematic study of the activities of the Old Church Slavic translators might be rewarding here—the material on John Baptist in the “Slavonic Josephus” jumps to mind, whether it is viewed as a contribution of the translator or of the manuscript materials being translated or of the subsequent Slavic transmission. The Syriac Apocalypse of Baruch (2 Baruch) and the Latin Apocalypse of Ezra (4 Ezra) also seem relevant here, with the added problem of the prefixed and affixed 5 and 6 Ezra in the Latin an example of this dilemma in another area of study, see J.W. van Henten and A.J. Bij de Vaate, “Jewish or Non-Jewish? Some Remarks on the Identification of Jewish Inscriptions from Asia Minor,” BO 53 (1996) 16–28. 33 See J. Riaud, “The Figure of Jeremiah in the Paralipomena Jeremiae Prophetae: his Originality; his ‘Christianization’ by the Christian Author of the Conclusion (99.10–32),” JSP 22 (2000) 31–44; M. de Jonge, “Remarks in the Margin of the Paper ‘The Figure of Jeremiah in the Paralipomena Jeremiae’, by Jean Riaud,” JSP 22 (2000) 45–9.

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tradition (but not in other versions of the Ezra Apocalypse!).34 If I treat 4 Ezra as a Jewish apocalypse, does that predispose me to do similarly with 5 and 6 Ezra? Why or why not? Would not the very slight signs of Christian interest in the Latin of 4 Ezra (“my son Jesus” in 7.28) also explain possible “Christian” phraseology in 5 Ezra (“son of God” in 2.47)? Again, it is not difficult to imagine non-Christian Jewish contexts for all of these texts, but does that mean that they should automatically “default” to Jewish in origin? Perhaps. In his 1998 Princeton dissertation, John Marshall argued that the Apocalypse of John that concludes the traditional collection of Christian “New Testament” scriptures should be treated as Jewish.35 Boyarin would doubtless applaud (see Dying for God, p. 141, n. 40). The payload here would be that the author of the Apocalypse would not have considered himself to be non-Jewish, and thus his work should be used in our reconstructions of what was possible in first century Judaism. Will this make it easier in the future to restructure our collections [[389]] of ancient sources so that the Apocalypse takes its place alongside of 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra, long acknowledged to be close relations? And will this nudge 6 Ezra, with its close affinities to the Apocalypse, into the “Jewish” camp? One of the arugments that led Ted Bergren to consider 6 Ezra as “Christian” was its parallels with the presumably “Christian” Apocalypse of John (6th Ezra, 15f). 7. Did non-Jewish Christians Compose “Jewish” Works? An important factor in this entire discussion concerns the intentions and talents of copyists, collectors, revisers, and authors. Unfortunately, we have little first hand evidence. Seldom do individuals emerge from our sources, whom we can interrogate, or even scrutinize, as they work. We know that there were collectors of various sorts—Clement of Alexandria has left us some school notes, Cyprian has collected “testimonies,” Eusebius was an avid excerpter, similarly John of Damascus, etc. Each had his reasons, his sources, his techniques. Numerous 34 On some of the problems of these Ezra texts, see my “Pseudepigrapha” (above, Chapter One) nn. 61 and 75 and the more recent volume by Theodore Bergren on Sixth Ezra. 35 John W. Marshall, Parables of the War: Reading the Apocalypse within Judaism and during the Judaean War (Princeton University PhD dissertation, Dept. of Religion, 1998); see also above, n. 15.

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sermons have survived from various authors and/or recorders. Some of them deal with “Jewish” topics and folkloristic themes—the asceticism of Joseph, the leadership of Moses, the artistry of David. To what extent did the homilists rely on identifiable sources, and how much did they contribute, de novo, to the resultant presentation? Somewhere in my filing cabinets are notes on some 4th and 5th century Christian sermons, examined with an eye to distinctively “Christian” traits that might betray their origins. Some were obviously Christian, but not all. Why shouldn’t a Christian narrator, for whom Jewish scriptures and traditions were also home territory, be expected to produce compositions that bear consistently “Jewish” features? Similarly, as reverence for saintly persons grew (“hagiography”) and liturgical handbooks were constructed to convey relevant information, how can we tell what may be old or new in the presentations? When Christian poets composed their hymns, often echoing prayers and psalms familiar to them from their scriptures, should we be surprised to find very “Jewish” sounding products? The presence in Christian hymnody of numerous Psalm-based hymns whose recent origins are known provides an instructive analogy—the words of Luther’s “Mighty Fortress” come to mind, or the “yigdol” as it appears in many Christian hymnbooks (“The God of Abraham Praise!”).36 [[390]] Some Christians became interested in chronography and world history, which drew them to other sources considered relevant. Materials were selected, summarized, recombined, harmonized, supplemented, and presented without footnotes or overt Christian indicators on every page. When we discover such materials in late medieval manuscripts, how shall we treat them? Christians worried about the weather, about their crops and various vicissitudes of life. Handbooks on interpreting the times or the thunder or other supposed indicators circulated in the names of respected savants such as Ezra (see above, n. 34) or Seth or the mysterious Sedrach. Does the mere attachment of such names produce the presumption of Jewish origins? Reasons other than the

36 Ross Kraemer calls my attention to Severus of Minorca’s Letter on the Conversion of the Jews [5th century], edited and translated by Scott Bradbury (Oxford: OUP, 1996), which includes a wild scene in which the Jews and Christians are parading through the town streets, singing the same hymns! John Chrysostom’s invectives against his congregants who also attended Jewish gatherings may also be relevant here (Kraemer, Aseneth, 246). See also the Martyrdom of Pionius 13.1–3 (mid-3rd century or later), discussed by E. Leigh Gibson, “Jewish Antagonism or Christian Polemic: The Case of the Martyrdom of Pionius,” JECS 9 (2001) 339–58.

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will to believe (“wishful thinking”) are often difficult to find. The more we learn about the various interests, techniques, and products of the various Christian worlds, the more difficult it becomes to assume that late, idiosyncratic sources must derive from early Jewish origins, no matter how “Jewish” they may sound.37 An example of such frustrations is well illustrated in the recent study of the Aseneth materials by Ross Kraemer. What sort of evidence can suffice to establish the widely accepted “Jewish” origin of this fascinating text? She concludes that “the arguments for its Jewishness are largely without foundation. Although it could be Jewish, the totality of the evidence is not definitive, and several other identifications…are plausible. In particular, a strong case can be made for Christian composition and redaction” (ix). Although I might like it to be Jewish, and as Kraemer says, it could be Jewish, methodological rigor requires me to acknowledge even more strongly the default position, that without much stronger evidence than appears to be available in the current discussion, its identifiable context is Christian. And until we know in more detail who constructed whatever we will consider to be the “original” composition, and how and why, it is difficult to say more on that issue.38 [[391]] It is tempting to decide that all of these materials ought to “default” to Judaism at one level or another (source criticism often smooths out any problems by moving quickly to an examination of the compositional ingredients), and that has been the tendency of 20th century scholarship.

37 An interesting example is Charlesworth’s claims about the calendric “Treatise of Shem”—from a Syriac 15th century MS; why call it Jewish? Why date it to the 1st century BCE? (OTP 1.473). I am not suggesting that such conclusions are impossible, only that they are premature without some careful discussion of “astrological” speculations in the world from which the actual text derives. 38 Kraemer summarizes much of the history of recent scholarship on this material, which concerns not only issues of date and provenance, but also of textual recensions and their relative value (the works of M. Philonenko and of C. Burchard are of special note). Other interesting problems are raised by such texts as the Barlaam and Josaphat materials (compare Aḥ iqar, Aesop), Odes of Solomon, History of the Rechabites. Less problematic, at least in my judgment, are, for example, Testament of Moses, “pseudoPhilo’s” Biblical Antiquities, 3 Maccabees, 2 Maccabees, Psalms of Solomon. The picture with reference to 4 Maccabees is complex, and it continues to receive special attention in the context of the study of “martyrdom”—e.g., Bowersock, Martyrdom and Rome (1995), Boyarin and van Henten, etc. (above, n. 11). Some other texts with close relationships to 4 Maccabees are also generating interest; see Sigrid Peterson, Martha Shamoni: A Jewish Syriac Rhymed Liturgical Poem about the Maccabean Martyrdoms (Sixth Maccabees) (PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 2006).

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As should be obvious, I would urge a more cautious approach to the situation, and where controls and clear indications are lacking, start with the historically clearest context, which in most instances will be Christian. 8. Prospects and Conclusions 8.1. More is needed by way of collating and editing texts. Although I have made some bold generalizations about lack of overt Christian influences in the textual transmission of certain books, biblical and nonbiblical, I suspect that there is a great deal more evidence of significance to digest. Of course, there is a great difference between the situation in which a book is represented by dozens or even hundreds of MSS and when very few or only one MS has survived. Versional evidence, which is especially important for many of the “pseudepigraphical” writings, also deserves more thorough and more systematic study. I suspect that much more can be learned from this mass of challenging material, especially about the attitudes and outlooks of the Christian reader-copyists at work. 8.2. More studies of control cases are desirable. Control cases are those in which we can be relatively “sure” about the evidence and thus can argue with greater confidence from analogy and probablity in similar situations (see above, and the attached Appendix). Unfortunately, with regard to “Jewish” materials, there are too few ancient descriptive accounts of what went on in the transmission process. Accusations are found of opponents tampering with texts (e.g., already in Justin39) on both sides of the process, and we sometimes can witness an attempt [[392]] to preserve or even restore old forms that had become corrupt, as with Origen’s work on the Hexapla. Quotations and excerpts are sometimes given from what to us are extra-biblical allegedly Jewish sources (e.g., Tertullian on the first section of “1 Enoch,”40 many others on assorted points of interest), marginal comments sometimes exhibit how various “new” things could become incorporated into subsequent

39 Justin, Dialogue 72 and 120; see further my “Pseudepigrapha” (above, Chapter One) n. 29. 40 Tertullian, De cultu fem. 2–3 (see also De idol. 4 and 15).

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copies, but on the whole we are guessing about the dynamics of the processes. 8.3. Recognition of non-Jewish interests and attitudes in transmitting the materials may help us determine what is more or less likely to be older traditional material. Are there identifiable uses to which Christians put the traditions; e.g., in hagiography and martyrology, with a focus on “faith” and faithfulness/endurance, or in ascetic and moral examples, emphasizing celibacy and frugality, or in apocalyptic anticipation, whether cosmic/millennial in nature or more individually oriented? Are there situations in which it is possible that non-Jews produced Jewish-sounding sources or edited existing sources to sound more Jewish (e.g., to “prove” the antiquity of certain ideas or to “correct” perceived corruptions)? One of the dangers here is the circularity of argument, if it is suggested that something would have been “impossible” in pre/non-Christian Judaism or, for that matter, “impossible” as a Christian claim (even when found in manuscripts transmitted by Christians!).41 8.4. Despite such obstacles, I would argue that it is potentially productive to try to imagine what sort of pre- or non-Christian perspectives (“pagan” as well as Jewish) might have produced the problematic [[393]] materials—as long as this is the result of the sort of prior investigation that begins with the evidence where it is preserved (i.e., mostly in Christian contexts) and is not simply assumed as the default position. Although I am a firm advocate of careful, close textual work, fixation on the texts alone will get us only so far. Seldom do the texts provide

41 Examples of how rich this area of exploration can be may be found in some of the essays in B.G. Wright (ed.), A Multiform Heritage (1999): e.g., Michael Stone notes a very active interest in Jewish writings by some Armenian writers (“The Study of the Armenian Apocrypha”); Ross Kraemer explores possible Samaritan involvement in the production and transmission of the Aseneth story (“Could Aseneth be Samaritan?”); John Reeves demonstrates what can be expected from Manichaean circles, with their interests in apocalyptic materials among others (“Reconsidering the ‘Prophecy of Zardust’ ”); Bill Adler makes us wonder how someone like Julius Africanus might be of relevance for the larger picture (“Julius Africanus and Judaism in the Third Century”); Jackie Pastis looks at aspects of the dialogues material (“Jewish Arguments against Christianity in the Dialogue of Timothy and Aquila”); David Efroymson explores the roots of Augustine’s anger at Judaism (“Whose Jews? Augustine’s Tractatus on John”). And when Islam comes along with its somewhat ambivalent attitudes to both Judaism and Christianity, how is the situation affected?

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their own labels, their own maps of how they relate to other materials under examination, or even their own explications of the author’s (or authors’) intentions. Our conclusions depend on a variety of judgments, based on what we think we know about historical, conceptual, cultural, and literary contexts, on how good our historical imaginations and intuitions may be, on what we consider useful or relevant analogies, and the like. Appendix: Searching for Analogies—Some Agendas for Future Research Is it possible to shed light on the intentions and/or procedures of the copyist-editors by examining various analogous situations? Here are some suggestions in note form (hopefully not too cryptic!) on possible approaches. I apologize for resorting to traditional shorthand with such labels as “heretical” (representing internal debates within Christianity, for the most part), “pagan” (non-Jewish and non-Christian), “barbarian” (non-Greek, or non-Greco-Roman), and the like. Test Scenario 1: explicit reproduction of sources: Christian quotations/excerpts from Jewish works (e.g., Eusebius) Possible controls/analogies: – Christian excerpts from “heretical” Christian works (e.g., by Irenaeus, Tertullian, Origen, Hippolytus, Epiphanius); – Christian excerpts from “pagan” works (e.g., by Eusebius); – Jewish excerpts from Jewish works (e.g., by Philo, Josephus); – Jewish excerpts from “pagan” works (e.g., by Philo, Josephus); – “Pagan” excerpts from “barbarian” works (e.g., by Herodotus). Aspects to explore: – establishing a level of trust (or suspicion) in the excerpter’s accuracy – recognizing varieties of perspective, understanding – recognizing limitations and possibilities of particular languages – adjusting for the excerpter’s selectivity (what is omitted?) [[394]] On the whole, where excerpting is intentional and relatively uncomplicated by other factors (textual transmission, translation, etc.), it seems relatively reliable—the intention to reproduce is a key element to ascertain.

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Test Scenario 2: transmission of whole works: Christian copying and/or translating of Jewish works (e.g., Jewish scriptures, Philo, Josephus, etc.) Possible controls/analogies: – Classical Christian transmission of objectionable Christian works (e.g., Tertullian the Montanist, ps-Clementines); – Heterodox Christian transmission of contested Christian works (e.g., Marcion’s use of Paul, Heracleon’s use of Gospel of John); – Christian transmission of “pagan” works (e.g., Plato, Cicero); – Christian transmission of Jewish transmission of “pagan” works? (e.g., Sibylline Oracles, ps-Hecataeus, etc.); – Jewish transmission of Jewish works (e.g., scriptures, Damascus Document, Ben Sira); – “Pagan” transmission of “foreign” works? (e.g., Hermetic Corpus, “Magic”). Aspects to explore: – are there distinctions of how different types of literature (e.g., “scripture”) are treated? – what do the copyists intend to do with the materials? – evidence of textual tampering, warnings against it, etc. – the rise and proliferation of variant “recensions.” Some test cases encourage trust in accuracy (e.g., “scriptural” texts), but in general, the situation is confused and frustrating; what makes a transmitter feel justified in introducing intentional changes? Test Scenario 3: construction of presumably “new” works from older material, often by unmarked collecting and juxtaposing, but also by reshaping editorially: Christian appropriation and reuse of Jewish materials as “Jewish” (or sometimes without such association) Possible controls/analogies: – Christian collecting and mixing of congenial older materials (e.g., Odes, Synoptics, Two Ways, sermons, apocalypses); – Christian adaptation of “pagan” material (e.g., Physiologus, Sibylline Oracles, chronography and history);

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chapter two – Jewish collecting and mixing of older traditions (e.g., Pentateuch, Josephus, Philo’s Life of Moses); [[395]] – Jewish adaptation of “pagan” material (e.g., Aḥ ikar at Elephantine, Sibyllines?); – “Pagan” adaptation of “foreign” material (e.g., Isis/Osiris myths).

Aspects to explore: – where are clues to editorial efforts likely to be found? – looking for “seams” in the materials, or unjoined pieces elsewhere – imagining concepts of “ownership” and perceptions of legitimate continuities. There is little hope for clarity here, with each item requiring individual attention as a whole and in its parts; the more skillful (or possessive and transformative) the editing/composing, the more difficult to move behind it. But by paying attention to these related phenomena concerning the use of texts and traditions in roughly the first millennium of the common era, it may be possible to make more progress in the study of the fate of Jewish materials in Christian hands—and beyond that, in uncovering evidences of early Judaism preserved by Christian transmitters and composers.

CHAPTER THREE

CHRISTIAN TRANSMISSION OF GREEK JEWISH SCRIPTURES: A METHODOLOGICAL PROBE1 For some time I have been interested in the question of how to identify and/or distinguish “Jewish” and “Christian” elements in that vast and variegated body of allegedly “Jewish” materials that has been preserved for centuries by Christian transmitters. Modern interpreters have made a variety of ad hoc claims about what is of “Jewish” origin and what may be a “Christian” interpolation or addition or revision. I am seeking to determine whether careful and comprehensive analysis of such materials may reveal any patterns or produce any insights that will be useful for evaluating such claims and for providing a more secure basis from which to proceed in future discussions.2 Jewish Greek scriptures provide an excellent body of materials on which to attempt such analysis. The Septuagint [LXX] (by which I mean only the Old Greek Pentateuch translation) and other Old Greek [OG] translations of various parts of Jewish scripture3 are relatively accessible today, by comparison with most other allegedly Jewish writings from the Greco-Roman world. For most scriptural books, critical

1 This essay first appeared as pp. 207–26 in Paganisme, Judaisme, Christianisme: Influences et affrontements dans le monde antique: Mélanges offerts à Marcel Simon (ed. A. Benoit et al.; Ouvrage publié avec le concours de l’Université des Sciences Humaines de Strasbourg; Paris: Éditions E. de Boccard, 1978). It was intended as an attempt to approach an old set of problems from new perspectives. I have not been able to research every aspect of the subject with equal diligence, and hope that other students of this material will provide additional information that has come to their attention. 2 For another approach to the same set of problems, see now Robert A. Kraft, “The ‘Textual Mechanics’ of Early Jewish LXX/OG Papyri and Fragments,” The Bible as Book: The Transmission of the Greek Text (ed. Scot McKendrick and Orlaith A. O’Sullivan; London: British Library; New Castle: Oak Knoll Press, 2003) 51–72. See also Emanuel Tov, The Text-Critical Use of the Septuagint in Biblical Research (2nd ed.; Jerusalem: Simor, 1997). For additional probes into technical aspects of the problem, see also the related online materials. 3 On the complexities of this matter, see the articles on “Septuagint” and on “Greek Versions, Minor” by R.A. Kraft, E. Tov and K. O’Connell in the Interpreters Dictionary of the Bible Supplement (Nashville: Abingdon, 1976).

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editions4 or at least extensive collections of textual variants5 are available. Numerous Greek and versional MSS are preserved from centuries of Christian transmission.6 [[208]] But with a few exceptions in the “deutero-canonical” (or “apocryphal”) materials, the pre-Christian Jewish origin of the various scriptural writings is beyond reasonable doubt, and Semitic texts similar to those from which the ancient Greek translators worked are still available and have been preserved through the ages by non-Christian transmitters. Thus for these writings a number of control elements exist which are not available for most other allegedly Jewish materials transmitted exclusively by Christians. The fact that, from relatively early times, many Christians came to consider these writings as “authoritative scripture” tends to complicate the matter somewhat. We might expect that canonical scriptures would, in general, receive more self-conscious care from copyists than would less revered writings. Indeed, it might even be suspected that as self-consciousness of the sacred status of Jewish scriptures increased among Christians, suspicion about any overtly Christian phraseology in those presumably pre-Christian writings might also increase among some Christian commentators and copyists.7 Ancient writers and readers were not unaware of the fact that textual changes sometimes were introduced into MSS in the process of transmitting them.8 We must be alert to the hypothetical possibility that, just as an Origen or a Jerome attempted to bring the Greek or Latin materials into closer conformity to the then available Hebrew/Aramaic text, so a similar motivation to excise any suspiciously blatant “Christian glosses” might have been in operation in some Christian circles. Perhaps we should not expect to

4 Most notably in the editions produced by the Göttinger Septuaginta-Unternehmens. See the details at http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/ioscs/editions.html. 5 As in the “Larger Cambridge Septuagint,” ed. A.E. Brooke, N. McLean, and H. St.J. Thackeray [1906–1940]. 6 Many of the versional materials still require much attention before their precise contribution to the study of Jewish-Greek scriptures can be assessed satisfactorily. I suspect that the data treated in this essay would be swelled significantly if more information from the versions were readily available. 7 A seemingly opposite tendency—to revel in supposedly explicit “prophetic” anticipations of Christian truth—characterized especially those Christians who collected traditional “scriptural testimonies” of various sorts to support their convictions. But even these collections of “prooftexts” seldom include citations of unambiguously Christian origin. An air of mysterious ambiguity is maintained in the “prophetic proofs,” which makes it extremely difficult to identify with sufficient precision the origins of the material. 8 An obvious example is Rev 22.18–9.

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find much evidence of characteristically Christian phraseology in extant copies of Greek Jewish scriptures. Claims that tendentious tampering with Jewish scriptural texts has taken place are not unknown in antiquity. In the second century, Justin and Irenaeus object to an allegedly tendentious Jewish revision of the Greek of Isaiah 7.14 wherein “young woman” (νεᾶνις—neanis; so Theodotion and Aquila) has replaced the presumed older rendering “virgin” (παρθένος—parthenos).9 Indeed, Justin also accuses Jewish polemicists [[209]] of removing from the Greek scriptural translations certain supposedly pro-Christian materials (πολλὰς γραφὰς—pollas graphas, “many passages”) in which “the crucified one is proclaimed as God and man and crucified and dying.”10 Justin attempts to support his claim by citing four examples: 1. an “interpretation” attributed to “Ezra” regarding “the law concerning passover” and the salvific benefits of trusting in the paschal sacrifice; 2. a statement from “Jeremiah” concerning plots against a person who is treated like a sacrificial lamb; 3. another passage “from the words of the same Jeremiah” about how the Lord preached salvation to Israel’s dead; 4. the phrase “from the wood/tree” as spoken by “David” in “the ninety-fifth psalm” where it says “The Lord reigned from the wood/tree” (Ps 95/96.10). Of these four passages, the second is still to be found in all known MSS and versions at Jeremiah 11.19 (Justin admitted that it was still present in “some copies” found in Jewish synagogues), and the fourth has left traces in several witnesses to Ps 95/96.10 (see below). But the “Ezra” text and the second “Jeremiah” passage are not preserved in any

9

Justin, Dialogue 67.7, 71.3 and 84.1–3; Irenaeus, AH 3.21(23).1. Dial. 71–73; see also Eusebius, EH 4.18.8 (summarizing Justin) and below, Chapter Seven, original pp. 126f. (Later, in Dial. 120, Justin adds that the Jews have excised references to the death of Isaiah as well.) 10

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known biblical MS, and have been treated as “Christian fabrications” by most commentators.11 Although rabbinic Jewish sources also comment about changes being introduced into Greek scriptures, the complaint is not specifically against Christians, and the alleged changes are not characteristically Christian in flavor. A relatively late tractate, partly supported by both Palestinian and Babylonian Talmuds, gives two variant reports about translations of Torah into Greek under king Ptolemy and then lists “thirteen” (actually fourteen) passages allegedly “altered” in the Greek by the original translators.12 [[210]] The listed changes are relatively minor matters, but in at least two passages, the direction of the supposed change runs counter to traditional Christian interests (and the preserved LXX text!) regarding plurality in the Godhead. The Jewish sources complain that Gen 1.26 “Let us make man” has been changed to “I will make man,” and Gen 11.7 “Let us go down” to “Let me go down.” Both passages, with the accepted Hebrew (and LXX) plural designations, played a positive role in Christian apologetics. Judging from available printed editions, the preserved Greek MSS and the versions derived from the Greek contain very few passages of unmistakably Christian intent—that is, “Christian glosses or interpolations.”13 There are, to be sure, various peripheral or superficial “Christian” characteristics in some witnesses such as (1) certain introductory or

11

For example, J. Otto, Iustini . . . opera 1.2 (Jena, 18773) 257 n. 1 (but not 260 n. 11); A. Harnack, Geschichte 1.2 (1893) 850; H.B. Swete, Introduction (19022 = 19143) 424 and 479; A. Resch, Agrapha (Leipzig, 19062) 305 and 321f.; A.L. Williams, Dialogue with Trypho (1930) 151 n. 3 and 153 n. 1. 12 The more extensive material appears in the 8/9th century Masseketh Sopherim 1.7–10. The lists of alleged changes also are found in p. Megilla 1.71d and b. Megilla 9a. A convenient collection of these materials in English translation may be found in H. St.J. Thackeray, The Letter of Aristeas (London: SPCK, 1918) 89–95. See now, Abraham Wasserstein and David Wasserstein, The Legend of the Septuagint: From Classical Antiquity to Today (Cambridge: CUP, 2006) chapter 3. 13 In his pioneering 1893 essay “Die von den Christen angeeignete und z[um] Th[eile] bearbeitete jüdische Litteratur” [The Jewish literature adopted by the Christians and in part reworked] (Geschichte, 1.2), Adolf Harnack recognizes the possibility of such but does not attempt to list “tendenziöse Überlieferungscorrecturen” [tendentious corrections during copying] (whether of Jewish or Christian origin) in Jewish scriptural materials transmitted by Christians (see 849 and 864 #1). Swete claims that it is “improbable that the Greek OT was willfully interpolated by Christians, or that, if they attempted this, the existing text has been affected by it to any appreciable extent” (Introduction, 479). But to my knowledge, the available evidence has not yet been suitably collected to permit satisfactory evaluation of such a claim.

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concluding comments about a given text,14 (2) marginalia, decorations and headings associated with the running text,15 (3) use in the text itself of certain abbreviations of terms and names popular in Christian circles (e.g., Christ, Joshua/Jesus, savior, salvation, crucifixion).16 A fairly large body of patently Christian blocks of material also has found its way into the collections of Psalms and Odes in most preserved MSS—e.g., in Rahlfs’ 1931 Göttingen edition, Ode 9 derives from Luke 1.46–55 plus 68–79, Ode 13 is from Luke 2.29–32, and Ode 14 is an explicitly Christian hymn to the triune God.17 It has even been argued that some of the “later Greek versions” of Jewish scripture, [[211]] such as that attributed to Symmachos, are Christian productions of a sort—Ebionite Christian in the case of Symmachos18—but even here the allegedly “Christian” elements are not particularly strong or obvious!19 In short, although a rather large number of undeniably Christian copies of various portions of Jewish scriptures exist, there is relatively little evidence in the biblical texts as such of tendentious, unambiguously Christian editing.20 The

14 E.g., scribal colophons or notes as at the end of 2 Esdras (= Ezra-Nehemiah) in MSS B and S or the end of Esther in S. 15 E.g., MS S inserts running headings written in red between blocks of text in Canticles to identify the speakers. At Cant 1.7 the heading reads “to the bridegroom Christ” (πρὸς τὸν νυμφίον χν [abbreviation overlined]). See also Treat, Lost Keys (1996). Decoration at the top of a page of the University of Pennsylvania Museum’s Coptic Psalter includes a stylized red and black abbreviation of the name Jesus Christ. On this MS, see R.A. Kraft, “An Unpublished Coptic/Sahidic Psalter Codex at the University of Pennsylvania Museum in Philadelphia: a Preliminary Report,” Biblical and Armenian Studies (ed. M.E. Stone; Jerusalem: St. James Press, 1976) 81–9. 16 In addition to the well-known treatments of the “nomina sacra” and related abbreviations by L. Traube (Nomina Sacra, 1907) and A.H.R.E. Paap (Nomina Sacra, 1959), see more recently K. Treu, “Die Bedeutung des Griechischen für die Juden im römischen Reich,” Kairos 15 (1973) 140f. (and n. 68) [translated by William Adler and myself as “The Significance of Greek for Jews in the Roman Empire” and also added to the listserver of the IOUDAIOS Electronic Seminar, 14 August 1991]. See also Lawrence W. Hurtado, “The Origin of the Nomina Sacra: A Proposal,” JBL 117 (1998) 755–73, and more recently The Earliest Christian Artifacts (2006). 17 The numbering and exact content of the Odes collection differs significantly in the various MSS and versions. See Rahlfs’ comparative lists on pp. 79f. of his Göttingen edition. 18 See especially H.-J. Schoeps, Theologie und Geschichte des Judenchristentums (Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1949) 33–7. Eusebius (EH 6.17), Jerome (Illustrious Men 54) and other Christian authors support this claim. Jerome (ibid.) also identifies Theodotion as an Ebionite. 19 See Schoeps, “Symmachusstudien I,” ConNT 6 (1942) 65–93 and below on the use of “Christ/Messiah.” 20 Probably additional relevant data are to be found in the various versional MSS, but at present that material is relatively difficult to access and/or use.

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evidence that is available has been divided into various subgroups for purposes of the present discussion: 1. passages in which the title “Christ/Messiah” appears in a manner that may betray specifically Christian interests; 2. the use of what may seem to be Christian terminology, especially that derived from traditions about the sufferings and crucifixion of Jesus; 3. passages in which it is alleged that the peculiar textual form of certain well-known early Christian quotations from Jewish scripture has been read/copied back into the scriptural MSS themselves through the efforts of overly zealous (or perhaps relatively undisciplined) Christian transmitters. Decisions about the relevance of passages in the first two categories depends mainly on the critic’s ability successfully to identify uniquely “Christian” interests; the third category depends less on judgments regarding characteristically Christian theological habits or attitudes than on the critic’s evaluation of an extremely complicated text-critical situation. I do not propose to deal with the third category in detail, but only to suggest the context in which profitable discussion can best take place. Christ/Messiah Passages Schoeps claims that a primary example of how Symmachos’ Christian orientation has affected his efforts as a translator may be seen in the fact that he (like Theodotion) renders the Hebrew title měšiaḥ not by ἠλειμμένος (ēleimmenos), the translation used by Aquila the Jew, [[212]] but by Χριστός (christos).21 The force of this sort of argument is weakened if one also considers Theodotion to be Jewish, although it could be maintained that Theodotion worked at a time when Christianity had not yet become a serious threat to Judaism22 and thus would

21

Schoeps, Theologie (1949) 36. D. Barthélemy, for example, would date “Theodotion” to the middle of the first century of the common era; see his Les devanciers d’Aquila: première publication intégrale du texte des fragments du dodécaprophéton trouvés dans le désert de Juda, précédée 22

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have no need to avoid using Χριστός (christos), while Symmachos (and Aquila before him) worked at a time when Christianity was such an obvious threat that no Jew would use Χριστός (christos) for Hebrew měšiaḥ .23 Such arguments are difficult to control. We simply do not have sufficient evidence about what Greek-speaking Jews in the 2nd and 3rd centuries ce might or might not have done in this regard. It is interesting to note that in some Christian MSS there is evidence of what may be a conscious “recensional” tendency towards writing χρηστός (chrēstos—worthy one) rather than Χριστός (christos), when an “anointed one” is mentioned in Jewish scripture.24 The origins of this phenomenon are not clear. It may well be theologically neutral—a case of simple itacism that has become frozen in one branch of the MS tradition.25 Or it may be an attempt to differentiate between the Christian Christ and various pre-Christian anointed persons. It might even derive from Jewish practice in copying Greek scriptures, although that seems less likely, at least for copies made before Christianity was recognized as a possible threat. An unambiguously Christian variant—doubtless a scribal slip—does appear in a single Greek MS at 2 Macc 1.10, where the text refers to “the group (or “race”; γένους—genous) of anointed (χριστῶν—christōn) priests” who startlingly become “Christian priests” in codex 58.26 Perhaps more of this sort of unconscious emendation would be found in the MSS if they were subjected to closer scrutiny. For example, variations caused by confusion between the overlined abbreviations for “Lord” (ΚΣ), “God” (ΘΣ) and “Christ” (ΧΣ) are not infrequent in Greek MSS. It would probably be inaccurate to attribute the introduction

d’une étude sur les traductions et recensions grecques de la Bible réalisées au premiére siècle de notre ère sous l’influence du rabbinat palestinien (Leiden: Brill, 1963) and my review of this work in Gnomon 37 (1965), especially 480 [also online]. 23 Symmachos is usually dated to the closing decades of the second century. His work is known to Origen in the early third century (see Swete, Introduction, 49f.). 24 Especially in 1–2 Samuel, where MSS acxc2e2 are consistently involved. 25 Does a similar itacistic tendency appear in NT MSS for the title/name christos? A control factor could be sought there. 26 See also 1 Chron 26.22 = Ps 104.15 for χριστῶν. Perhaps a somewhat related phenomenon is the repeated reference to “the race of Christians” in the Greek Apocalypse of Esdras (ed. C. v. Tischendorf; Leipzig, 1866), where an older form of the text almost certainly had “the race of mankind/humanity.” The regularly abbreviated ἀνων (anōn = ἀνθρώπων—anthrōpōn) has become Χριστιανῶν (christianōn—perhaps also abbreviated to Χρανῶν [xranōn] or something similar).

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of references to “Christ” to anything consciously tendentious in such passages as: [[213]] 2 Sam 23.3 “fear of God” (MS A “. . . of the Lord”; MSS Bx “. . . of [the] Christ”) 2 Macc 3.30 “the almighty Lord” (MS 19 “. . . God”; MS A “ . . . Christ”) Sirach 47.11 “the Lord took away his sins” (MS Bc2 with Old Latin support, “Christ. . .”). A more interesting and certainly a more self-conscious change in an “anointed one” passage is found in the so-called “Sexta” version of the Prayer/Ode in Habakkuk 3.13, as reported by Jerome: OG represents MT quite closely—“you went out to save ( εἰς σωτηρίαν—eis sōtērian, Hebrew lěyēša’) your people, . . . to save (τοῦ σῶσαι—tou sōsai, Hebrew lěyēša’) your anointed ones” The “Barberini” text reads similarly—“you appeared for the salvation (ἐπὶ σωτηρίᾳ—epi sōtēria) of your people, to redeem (ῥύσασθαι— rhusasthai) your elect ones” “Sexta” has “you went out to save (τοῦ σῶσαι—tou sōsai) your people through Jesus your anointed (διὰ Ἰησοῦν τὸν χριστόν σου—dia Iēsoun ton christon sou).” For obvious reasons, the “Sexta” text has impressed readers as being a blatantly Christian production.27 But despite its “Christian” tone—and appeal—the text also makes reasonable sense in a Jewish context as a reference to Joshua the mighty warrior leader for whom the sun and moon stood still (Josh 10.12f, cf. Hab 3.11) and who slew the wicked adversaries (Josh 10.22–27, cf. Hab 3.13b). The extant Hebrew text still preserves a double use of the Hebrew word yš’a (“to save”) here, which at some point in the development of this difficult passage (if not originally) may have been read in Jewish circles as a play on the name “Joshua” (which means “YHWH saves” or something similar). The same sort of explicit wordplay lies behind Sirach 46.1 (“Jesus/ Joshua . . . who in accord with his name became great with reference to the salvation of his elect ones”) as well as behind Matt 1.21 (“Call his name Jesus/Joshua, for he shall save his people”). Thus a “Jewish” origin 27

E.g., Swete, Introduction, 56: “the Christian origin of Sexta betrays itself at Hab 3.13,” despite Jerome’s claim that “Sexta” is the work of a Jewish translator. Swete adds (56, n. 2) that “no doubt the primary reference [in Sexta’s Hab 3.13] is to Joshua . . ., but the purport of the gloss is unmistakable.”

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of the “Sexta” version of Hab 3.13 seems entirely possible, especially assuming that “Sexta” was translated under conditions in which [[214]] Christianity was not yet viewed as a threat to Judaism. Conversely, it would be difficult to imagine “Sexta” as a Jewish translation at a time when Jews and Christians were in conscious conflict.28 A remaining mystery is why Christian protagonists even after Jerome did not make wide use of this convenient and congenial “proof text”? Apparently fidelity to the accepted Old Greek version outweighed polemical value in such a matter? Another messiah/christ passage of interest for the present investigation is Isa 45.1, which in all preserved Greek biblical MSS reads, “Thus says the Lord . . . to my anointed, Cyrus (Κύρῳ—kyrō).” But Jerome claims to know of many Greek as well as Latin witnesses that have “erred” by reading “Lord” (κυρίῳ—kyriō) rather than Cyrus here. Indeed modern editions of Barnabas 12.11 have “Lord” and juxtapose this “proof text” with Ps 109/110.1 (“The Lord said to my Lord . . .”), as do various other later Christian authors (especially in the Latin tradition).29 Mention should also be made of 1 Sam 24.7(6) in this connection, where most Greek MSS have David referring to Saul as “my Lord the anointed of the Lord.” The origin of the Isaiah reading may be a simple mistake (Κύρῳ/κυρίῳ—kyrō/kyriō) or conscious “correction” of the Greek text (with the aforementioned parallels in mind?). There is no reason to insist that it originated as a peculiarly “Christian” change, although Christians certainly capitalized on the text. What is somewhat startling is the absence of such a congenial reading in preserved Greek MSS. Indeed, even in Barnabas 12.11, some of the preserved Greek MSS have Κύρῳ (kyrō) not κυρίῳ (kyriō), although the latter makes better sense in the context; and in ps-Gregory of Nyssa, Testimony 16, the “Cyrus” form of the text is quoted but is presented as fulfilled in Christ. Thus in this instance, self-conscious fidelity to a less useful form of the text

28 For a convenient summary of early Christian traditions about the discovery of “Sexta” in an earthenware jar, see Swete, Introduction, 54f. In addition to the materials noted there, mention should also be made of the claim found in the Dialogue of Timothy and Aquila 3.10 (ed. Coneybeare, 1898; see further below chapter 10) that two unidentified translations (presumably “Quinta” and “Sexta”—i.e., the “5th” and “6th” after LXX/OG and “the three” of Aquila, Theodotion, and Symmachos) were discovered in storage jars at Jericho Nicopolis (= Emmaus!) during Vespasian’s conquest of Jersualem. 29 For a listing of the patristic references, see my “Barnabas’ Isaiah Text and the ‘Testimony Book’ Hypothesis,” JBL 79 (1960) 342 [also online].

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seems to have all but obliterated the κύριος (kyrios) variant as such in the Greek tradition. Perhaps a few other messiah/christ texts deserve mention, although the case for tendentious Christian tampering does not seem particularly strong in any of them. Reference to “the oil of anointing” (τοῦ χριστοῦ [tou christou] or τῆς χρίσεως [tēs chriseōs]) in Lev 21.10 is conflated in some witnesses to read “the oil of anointing (χρίσεως [chriseōs] or χρίσματος [chrismatos]) [[215]] of the anointed one” (so bw, see M).30 Ezekiel 16.4 reads, according to many Greek MSS, “. . . and you were not washed in water.” But several witnesses add the phrase “for salvation,” which reflects the extant Hebrew lěmišě’i,31 and a few have “of (or for?) my anointed (or anointing)”—τοῦ χριστοῦ μου (tou christou mou). Possibly the latter reading reflects a real or imagined Hebrew variant měšîhî for mišě’î. There is little reason to attribute it directly to Christian interests. Finally, Daniel 9.25–26, in its various Greek versions, agrees with the preserved Hebrew in speaking of messiah/christ. The so-called Old Greek text, however, seems especially confusing here: . . . and after seven and 70 and 62, χρῖσμα (chrisma—an anointing?) will be removed and shall not be, and a kingdom of gentiles/nations will devastate the city and the holy place with the christos (μετὰ τοῦ χριστοῦ), and its/his completion will come with wrath even until the time of completion.

Even if self-consciously Christian motivation produced this text, and that seems doubtful to me, it is interesting to note once again that the text (and indeed, the Old Greek translation of which it was a part!) barely survived in the hands of Christian transmitters. “Theodotion’s” Greek of Daniel, which stands much closer to the Masoretic Hebrew/ Aramaic, is found in almost all extant Greek MSS.

30 See also Lev 21.12. The LXX translator(s) seem to use χριστός (christos) in the sense of “anointing” rather than necessarily “anointed one” in several pentateuchal passages. Whether later Christian readers and copyists would still be able to understand the text in the way it was intended is difficult to determine. 31 Probably Origen’s Hexaplaric text is responsible for the longer Greek text—εἰς σωτηρίαν (eis sōtērian) is also a reading attributed to Aquila and Theodotion.

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Suffering/Crucifixion and Other Passages Most of the remaining scriptural passages in which Christian ideas about Jesus allegedly played a formative role are found in the Psalms. Christians copied and recopied the Greek collection of Psalms, usually supplemented with the Odes, more than any other portion of Jewish scripture, judging from the number of preserved MSS. Whether the same sort of Christian self-consciousness about the Jewish nature of “OT” scriptures obtained with respect to the Psalms deserves closer attention—as we have seen, there seems to have been no attempt to disguise the explicitly Christian components in the Odes collection (above, p. 65). Perhaps some Christians saw Psalms (and Odes) as just as much a [[216]] Christian as a Jewish collection and thus felt less uneasy about apparently overt Christian phraseology in some Psalms. Indeed, even apart from allegedly Christian additions, both the Hebrew and the Greek form of Psalms contain striking parallels to the Christian traditions about Jesus’ suffering and death (e.g., in Ps 21/22, Ps 68/69). Did this encourage some Christians to include even more such details in their copies of Psalms? An examination of the questionable passages is a first step towards dealing with such possibilities. We have already noted (above, p. 63) that Justin thought Jews had excised the words ἀπὸ τοῦ ξύλου (apo tou culou) from Ps 95/96.10. Numerous preserved MSS and versions (especially “western” and south Egyptian) also support this reading, which Justin viewed as pre-Christian, prophetic and original.32 It is not, however, found in the extant Hebrew text or in the well attested northern Egyptian Greek text. Its origin remains a mystery. If it is a Christian addition, it predates Justin (and probably Barnabas, as well—see Barn 8.5) and thus developed in the first century of Christian existence. Most Christians would probably hear it as a reference to Jesus’ victorious crucifixion and perhaps would even consider the passage an answer to Deut 21.23, “cursed is anyone who is hanged ἐπὶ ξύλου (epi culou—on wood/tree).”33 But ξύλον (culon) also was used even in Christian materials to refer to “the tree of life” (see Rev 2.7, 22.2, etc.), and the possibility also needs to be explored that Justin’s text of Ps 95/96.10 might have been taken to 32

Other Christian witnesses that attest Justin’s form of Ps 95/96.10 include Barnabas, Tertullian, Ambrose, Augustine, Leo, and Gregory Maximus. 33 Cited, e.g., by Paul in Gal 3.13, Justin in Dial 96, and Tertullian in Against the Jews 10 (in close proximity to the problematic form of Ps 95/96.10).

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mean that “the Lord reigned from the tree (of life).” Traditions about the “tree of life” and its relationship to other ξύλα (cula—various rods, the cross of Jesus, etc.) abound in Christian and Jewish materials.34 Until such a possible setting can be examined more fully, the question of the origin of ἀπὸ τοῦ ξύλου (apo tou culou) in Ps 95/96.10 should perhaps be left open. There may yet even be a place for the phrase in pre-Christian Jewish thought! [[217]] A closely related allegedly “Christian” variation appears in a few relatively early witnesses35 to Ps 50/51.9 and was also known to the Nestorian Timotheus I (ca. 800), who claims it was confirmed by the discovery of Hebrew scrolls in a cave by some of his contemporaries.36 Ps 50/51.9 is a text used liturgically by Christians:37 Cleanse me with hyssop and I shall be clean wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.

After the word “hyssop,” the aforementioned witnesses add “from (or perhaps, “dipped in”) the blood of the tree” (ἀπὸ τοῦ αἵματος τοῦ ξύλου (apo tou haimatos tou culou), and after “wash me,” some of them also add “from it” (ἐξ αὐτοῦ—ex autou). Again, the Christian appeal of the passage is clear, but how this variant originated is not so clear. The link of “blood” and a “tree” or “wood” appears in other passages (e.g., Barnabas 12.1) and may have its immediate background in texts dealing with apocalyptic signs (see 4 Ezra 5.5) or perhaps with martyrological legends like the death of Isaiah (sawn asunder with a wooden saw; sawn while hidden in a hollow tree).38

34 See J. Daniélou, “La Vie suspendue au bois (Deut. 28.66),” Études d’exégèse judéo-chrétienne (Les Testimonia) (Paris: Beauchesne, 1966) 61f. Daniélou also shows that Tertullian (Against the Jews 11.9, cf. 13.11) and various later fathers include the words “on the tree/wood” in quoting Deut 28.66. No biblical MSS support this reading, which may have arisen in “proof-text” literature by conflation with Deut 21.23 (κρεμάμενος—kremamenos, see Deut 28.66 κρεμαμένη—kremamenē), but this material is clearly of interest for discussing the similar phrase in Ps 95/96.10 and the larger question of Christianized biblical quotations. 35 The 4th century Greek papyrus 2013 with its 12th century ally MS 1093 (excerpts) and the Sahidic Coptic version; also in the 4th century Achmimic Coptic version (but not Greek, Latin or Syriac text) of 1 Clement 18.7. 36 See Braun, “Ein Brief,” 306f. 37 See R.A. Kraft and A. Tripolitis, “Some Uncatalogued Papyri of Theological and Other Interest in the John Rylands Library,” BJRL 51 (1968) 144 n. 1 [also online]. 38 The “wooden saw” tradition appears in various Christian sources and Martyrdom/ Ascension of Isaiah 5. The “hollow tree” version is found in rabbinic sources. See L. Ginzberg, Legends 4 (1913) 279 and the notes thereto.

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Language that sounds suspiciously like the Christian crucifixion traditions also appears in some MSS of the “penitential” Psalm 37/38. In verse 14 (13) the primary witnesses mentioned in note 35 above have the words “I was suspended/hanged by them” (ἐκρεμάμην ὑπ’ αὐτῶν—ekrememēn hyp’ autōn), while at the end of verse 22(21) the Bohairic Coptic version adds “and they nailed my flesh.”

Neither of these ideas is foreign to Greek Jewish scriptures—for example Lam 5.12 speaks of (Israel’s) rulers being “hanged by means of the hand(s)” of the adversaries, and the classic text in Deut 21.23 curses anyone “hanged on a tree/stake”; Ps 118/119.120 has “from fear of you they nailed my flesh” (Masoretic Hebrew, “my flesh bristled”), and the idea of hands and feet being “digged” (“pierced”?) occurs in Ps 21/22.17 (although the Greek word there is different, and the extant Hebrew differs significantly)—but their [[218]] presence in these texts of Ps 37/38 probably reflects Christian use of the Psalm in describing Jesus’ crucifixion. The Greek MSS of Isaiah also contain a variation of relevance for the present discussion. At the end of Isa 53, MS 86mg and the Sahidic have the following words, which Ziegler designates as “additamentum christianum”: they pursued (him) and they persecuted (him); they took him (captive) and the Lord forgave them.

While this sort of summary is not unharmonious with the tone of the surrounding material in Isaiah (suffering servant, forgiving Lord; see also Isa 55.7) and might conceivably have found its way into the book apart from specifically Christian interests, it is difficult to resist the intuition that this addition stems from Christian concerns (see e.g., Luke 22.54, 23.34). In either event, the actual Greek wording is not specifically Isaianic, nor does it reflect well documented Christian formulae. The final words of the problem passage also are paralleled in the Greek of Job 42.10, “the Lord . . . forgave them [Job’s “friends”] their sin” (. . . ἀφῆκεν αὐτοῖς τὴν ἁμαρτίαν—aphēken autois tēn hamartian)— material that is lacking in the preserved Hebrew text. Perhaps this also should be credited to Christian influence, although the suggestion seems much less convincing here where all preserved MSS contain the problematic passage. A few other passages sometimes are mentioned as possible “Christian” additions or alterations, but the reasons are hardly compelling. Rahlfs

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includes a variant text of Ps 49/50.6 supported by several southern Egyptian witnesses among “Christian passages” but admits that there is “nothing specifically Christian” about the material.39 At Ps 151.3, after the words “he is Lord, he hears,” the Bohairic version reads uniquely, “all those who call upon him”—an idea found also in Ps 144/145.18f. and in Joel 2.32/3.5 (which is cited by NT authors at Acts 2.21 and Rom 10.12ff.; see also 1 Cor 1.2). While it is not necessary to demand that a Christian originated this conflation, it is not inconceivable that a Christian added the phrase. Finally, the inner-Greek confusion of the original ἰάματα (iamata, “healings”) and the secondary ἱμάτια (himatia, “garments”), which is attested in numerous MSS at Isa 58.8, may be mentioned as another example of a popular Christian “proof text.” But there is no need to posit a Christian origin for this development, which is completely understandable in terms of normal textual confusions. [[219]] Influence of Aberrant Quotations on the MSS Another, more indirect type of Christian influence on Greek Jewish scriptures has also been claimed. The argument goes roughly like this: 1. Christian authors sometimes quoted Jewish scriptural passages in textual forms that differ significantly from the Old Greek. 2. Familiarity with and reverence for the Christian form of the quotation developed among Christians (especially with regard to New Testament materials). 3. Thus in transmitting Old Greek MSS, Christian copyists sometimes substituted (consciously or unconsciously) the aberrant Christian form of the material, in part or in whole. I do not propose to deal with this sort of argument, or the evidence to which it appeals, at any great length here. It is a very complicated issue, involving technical text-critical considerations as well as impressions about the development of Christian attitudes towards what came to be 39 Rahlfs’ Göttingen ed. of Psalms (1931) 32. The “addition” echoes Zeph 1.12 and reads: “and in the last days God will search Jerusalem with a lamp.”

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“New Testament” as compared with “Old Testament” literature. The question of the development and Christian use of “proof text” collections also is important here, as is illustrated by such passages as Isa 45.1 (or 58.8) and Ps 95/96.10 discussed above. Although I have tried to gear the present essay to passages actually or allegedly preserved in Greek MSS and derivative versions, the number of possibly tendentious Christian contributions to Jewish scriptural material would be swelled considerably if early Christian and patristic “proof text” references were also examined systematically (see, e.g., above, n. 34). Methodologically, discussion of these problems often reverts to special pleading. It has long been acknowledged that considerable textual variation had developed in the transmission of Jewish Greek scriptures by the time Christianity emerged. Text-critical efforts to group the variants, identify textual and recensional streams and ultimately recreate the earliest recoverable form of texts have continued apace. On the whole, variant forms of texts that appear in scriptural quotations found in a Philo or a Justin or a Clement are treated with some respect, recorded and classified if possible, as possible contributions to our knowledge of the complex textual situation in Greek Jewish scriptural readings in their time. But because the NT writings themselves ultimately gained the status of “sacred scripture” among the people who came to be mainly responsible for the transmission of Jewish scriptures in Greek, evidence of textual variation drawn from NT quotations often has come to be [[220]] treated differently.40 If agreement is found between a NT quotation and some Greek MSS of Jewish scripture in what is judged to be a “variant” form of text, the evidence from the MSS often is explained as the result of conscious or unconscious “harmonization” towards the

40 See, e.g., the summary of scholarly opinions given by K. Stendahl, The School of St. Matthew and its Use of the OT (Philadelphia: Fortress, 19682 = reprint of 1954 original with a new introduction by the author) 169 (esp. n. 5)–74. A notable exception to this approach is H.B. Swete, whose passing comments in Introduction, 395 deserve special mention in the present discussion: “The witness of the NT almost invariably goes with codd. SAF and Lucian against the Vatican MS [B], and . . . its agreement with cod. A. is especially close. [Footnote to W. Staerk, ZWT 36 (1893) 97f.] It may of course be argued that the text of these authorities has been influenced by the NT [footnote reference to Zahn, Einleitung 2, p. 314ff.]; but the fact that a similar tendency is noticeable in Josephus, and to a less extent in Philo, goes far to discount this objection.” It is true that Swete did not have access to the text-critical materials now available, which have helped put the old discussion about the relative value of the “great Uncials” into better perspective, but his general impressions still deserve attention and should not summarily be ignored on that account.

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NT form of the quotation. In its most extreme form this sort of argument precludes the possibility of using the MSS as evidence that a NT quotation attests a variant text form available to the author. Instead, it is suggested either that the NT author created the variants that appear in his quotation or that the source from which the NT quotations derived its variants did not survive to exert any independent influence on the preserved MSS of Jewish scriptures. The situation with regard to Psalm 13/14.3 provides an excellent example and is neatly summarized by Rahlfs.41 In Rom 3.10–18 Paul cites a series of OT passages as evidence that all humans are under sin. He begins with what is first a rather free, then a literal rendering of Ps 13.1–3, and continues with other OT passages of similar content (Ps 5.10, 139.4, 9.28, Isa 59.7–8, Ps 35.2), but without giving any new formula of citation. On this basis, ancient Christians have enriched their Psalter and have also inserted into the Psalter after Ps 13.1–3 everything that Paul added to Ps 13.1–3 (but they did not add it to the basically identical passage in Ps 52.2–4). This Ps 13.1–3 passage is present in the northern and southern Egyptian texts and in the western text. It is also preserved by Origen and is only obelized, whence it also is found in the vulgate, which contains a translation of the hexaplaric LXX text in its Psalter. Only Lucian manages to suppress it completely, and thus it is not part of the official text of the Greek church; nevertheless the Syriac translation of the Lucianic text does contain it, presumably because it was very popular.

But this sort of analysis simply assumes that Paul created the composite text. If, as I tend to believe, Paul actually derived [[221]] this block of material from a source available to him, the entire question must be reformulated in a different light. Is it not possible that Paul knew a text of Ps 13/14 (or of Ps 52/53) which was already expanded in this manner? Or that he knew a “proof text” type of collection (perhaps introduced by the general summary heading now found in Rom 3.10–11) that also independently influenced MSS of the Psalms?42 If we reject such suggestions and follow Rahlfs’ analysis, how can we explain why (1) Rom 3.10–11, the neat and balanced opening rubric, has had no 41

Psalmi cum Odis (= vol. 10 of Göttingen Septuagint; 1931) 33–4 [my translation]. Swete, Introduction, 252, is remarkably restrained and balanced on this issue, compared to Rahlfs: “whether it [the long form] was brought into the text . . . from the Epistle, or was already in the Greek Psalm as known to St. Paul, cannot perhaps now be ascertained. But it doubtless had its origin in the Rabbinical practice of stringing together passages excerpted from various [scriptural] books . . . and it may have existed under this form in a collection of testimonia used by the Apostle.” 42

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impact on the same Psalm MSS that allegedly adopted Rom 3.12–18 wholesale? (2) Other composite quotations found in Romans have had so little influence on the Greek scriptural MSS, relatively speaking?43 If Paul has influenced virtually all representatives of the three oldest text forms of Psalms in this one instance, does that mean that these three textforms derived from a single textual archetype that was influenced by Paul? If so, that archetype must be of very early date, much earlier than the fourth/fifth century in which the different textforms are relatively widely attested and significantly earlier than the third century from which the oldest preserved example of the “composite” Psalm passage comes (MS 2019) and the time when Origen presumably obelized it in the Hexapla. Indeed, it would seem to be difficult on a strictly textcritical basis to date such a supposed archetype late enough to itself have been influenced directly by Romans 3, which was written in the mid-first century. Alternatively, one might argue that the Romans passage independently influenced different streams of the textual developments in Psalms— thus no single, early archetype behind the identified textforms would be necessary. But such a theory would have to account for the relative homogeneity of the preserved witnesses (e.g., the opening words of the Romans quotation have left no trace in any of the Psalm MSS). On the whole, Rahlfs’ [[222]] hypothesis of Pauline influence on Ps 13/14 seems unconvincing. And if the expanded text in Psalms were not caused by Christian familiarity with Paul, there is no reason to attribute the expanded form to “Christian” influence at all. Neither the material contained in the quotation nor the resulting thrust of the composite quotation is characteristically Christian. Even if it were a pre-Pauline Christian compilation, and I seriously doubt that it could be such for some of the textcritical reasons adduced earlier, we would have no way to ascertain that inductively from the text itself. New Testament literature abounds with quotations from Jewish scriptures (and/or closely related material), many of which deviate in some way form the majority of preserved Greek MSS of Jewish scriptures 43 MS 55 at Ps 68/69.23–24(22–23) shows a closer relationship to Rom 11.9–10 (which possibly conflates a phrase from Ps 34/35.8 into the quotation) than do the other Psalm MSS. In Rom 11.26–27 material is juxtaposed without interruption from Isa 59.20f and 27.9, with no apparent impact on MSS of Isaiah. In Rom 9.25f. a strange form of something like Hos 2.23 is directly prefixed to material from Hos 1.10, with the entire block introduced as from “Hosea,” but the MSS of Hosea seem to be virtually unaffected. See also below on Rom 11.34f.

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(and related witnesses). Quite possibly the Christian form of a quotation sometimes influenced the later textual tradition in Jewish scriptures, but in most instances it is impossible to establish that as a strong probability. Numerous claims are made, resting on the slimmest of arguments or no arguments at all. Apparently the mere presence of a textual variant in a NT quotation and also in a few MSS of the Old Greek for the passage quoted is enough to call forth such a claim. Even an experienced and normally cautious editor such as Joseph Ziegler falls into this trap. In assessing the peculiarities of MS A for his critical Göttingen edition of the Greek Isaiah (1939) Ziegler observes (p. 27): Frequently it also shows influence of NT passages. Thus in 9.2, A reads in agreement with various other MSS καθήμενος (kathēmenos, from Mt. 4.16) instead of πορευόμενος (poreuomenos) and in 59.8 ἔγνωσαν (egnōsan, from Rom 3.17) instead of οἴδασι (oidasi, first occurrence). The present tense τελευτᾷ (teleuta) in 66.24 instead of τελευτήσει (teleutēsei) derives from Mark 9.48 and is only found in A and 456. Likewise the Christian addition in 40.14 taken from Rom 11.35 has found entrance into A (as well as in S* and various minuscules).

But the picture is neither so simple nor so clear when one examines the data more closely. The quotation in Mt 4.15–16 contains five significant divergences from most OG texts of Isa 9.1–2 (not including two major “omissions” and a transposition, none of which are attested by MSS of Isaiah). Three of these five are not found in any MSS of Isaiah (first occurrence of γῆ [gē, OG χώρᾳ—chōra]; καὶ τοῖς καθημένοις [kai tois kathēmenois, OG οἱ κατοικοῦντες—hoi katoikountes]; αὐτοῖς [autois, OG ἐφ’ ὑμᾶς—eph’ hymas]). Another is found in a single MS of Isaiah (ἀνέτειλεν—aneteilen, OG λάμψει—lampsei)—which perhaps has been influenced by the Matthew material. The fourth, which is noted by Ziegler, is attested by a number of Old Greek witnesses in addition to MS A, and clearly predates A. If the Matthew tradition originated these variants, and if Matthew’s quotation exerted strong influence on the Greek transmission of Isaiah, why is the influence displayed only in one or two instances out of a [[223]] possible five (or eight, counting “omissions” and transpositions)? It would seem to me more probable that, at least in the case of καθήμενος (kathēmenos), both Matthew and the Greek MSS of Isaiah have been influenced by a pre-Matthean form of the text which already read “sat” rather than “went.”44

44

See further, Krister Stendahl, School (1968) 104–6.

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The other examples cited by Ziegler are equally complicated. ἔγνωσαν (egnōsan) in Isa 59.8 is also clearly older than MS A, and indeed is part of the composite Psalm passage (Rom 3.10–18) discussed above. If the long form of Psalm 13/14.3 is considered to be pre-Pauline, then this particular reading ages accordingly. But in any event, even in the second occurrence of οἴδασι (oidasin) in Isa 59.8—material not quoted in the Paul/Psalm passage—the variant ἔγνωσαν (egnōsan) appears in two Greek MSS and ἔγνω (egnō) is attributed to Symmachos! Possibly τελευτᾷ (teleuta) is an instance of direct or indirect NT influence on Isaiah, although it should be noted that (1) Mark 9.48 is less a conscious quotation than a frozen cultural phrase and doubtless would have had a history of its own prior to and apart from Mark, (2) several significant witnesses to the text of Mark also have the future tense, (3) the phrase also circulated quite early with future tense in Christian circles apart from Mark (e.g., 2 Clem 7.6, 17.5). But the sequence τελευτᾷ . . . σβεστήσεται (teleuta . . . sbestēsetai) in the A text of Isaiah 66.24 is difficult to defend and has probably been caused by familiarity with the abbreviated phrase in the form known from Mark. But why σβέννυται (sbennutai) does not also appear in A (as in Mark) is difficult to understand. The aphorism occurs about 50 times in the TLG data (as of July 2008), almost never in the Markan form cited by Ziegler, but often as a saying of Jesus, and a few times with the order of “worm . . . fire” reversed. Complexity of exact transmission is evident, even while the point of the aphorism remains clear. The hymnic passage in Rom 11.34f. presents problems similar to those noted above with reference to Ps 13.3//Rom 3.10–18. The first portion of the Romans material is virtually identical to the first two thirds of the preserved Greek in Isa 40.13. (Incidentally, Paul uses the first and last thirds of the same passage to form a rhetorical question in 1 Cor 2.16; he seems to know these phrases intimately, not simply as “quotations.”) But Rom 11.35 is best paralleled in content by the preserved Hebrew of Job 41.2/11 (“who has first given to me, so that I should repay him?”)—in Greek, the passage reads “or who will oppose me and endure,” which makes good sense even in the Hebrew context, but is far from the wording found in numerous Greek MSS at the end of Isa 40.14—not near the end of 40.13, where we would expect it if direct influence from Rom 11.34f. were the explanation. And again, the MSS of Isaiah that support the problematic text represent relatively diverse family groupings and point to an archetype that must go back at the very latest to the 3rd century ce. If the “extra” material in Isa 40.14 came from Romans, why is it not joined to [[224]] Isa 40.13? Could it

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be a displaced Greek version of Job 41.2/11, joined to the Isaiah material because of similar content (I imagine the general rubric “who can challenge the Lord?”). Is it possible that Paul knew such a secondary collection of similar materials, to which he passingly alludes (in Rom 11 and in 1 Cor 2) and which also had its impact on the MS tradition of Isaiah 40? Such a solution seems to deal with the evidence in at least as satisfactory a manner as the solution Ziegler represents—indeed, in what is to me a preferable manner. The situation with regard to other NT and early Christian quotations is similar to that in the above samples.45 The Greek MSS of Jewish scriptures seldom preserve any consistent pattern where a reverse influence of aberrant NT quotations on their apparent sources can be alleged with confidence. The evidence seems to be haphazard and sporadic. In many instances, the theory of “NT” influence on LXX/ OG texts generates as many problems as it claims to solve. The more we learn about the development of various types of Christianity and of Christian self-understanding, the more difficult it is to accept some of the assumptions with which the theory seems to operate—e.g., that apparent deviations by early Christian authors from what we know or can reconstruct as the earliest recoverable text of Jewish Greek scriptures must have originated from the Christian authors or that NT writings quickly assumed a relatively wooden position of verbal authority vis-à-vis Jewish scriptures and other Jewish and/or Christian traditions. Indeed, there is much reason to speak of “secondary” scriptural compilations of various sorts emanating from Jewish sources and available to early Christian authors—“proof-text” collections, scripturalsounding psalms and prayers/hymns, continuously updated prophetic and apocalyptic materials, aphoristic quotations, and the like. In this sort of context, older approaches to this aspect of “Christian” influences on the textual transmission of Greek Jewish scriptures need careful reevaluation, with equal attention to technical textcritical problems and to the broader issues of how Judaism and Christianity were developing and relating to each other in the relevant periods of history.

45 I will make no attempt to identify the relevant publications here. Discussion of aspects of the general problem may be found in Stendahl, School (1968) especially III–IV and 169–82.

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Conclusions From the viewpoint of strictly controlled methodology, the results of this probe are extremely tentative. It is easy to [[225]] criticize the way things have been done, but difficult to propose satisfactory alternatives. In many ways, study of Greek Jewish scriptures is still in its infancy, without adequate tools or enough trained workers to take more than slow, short steps in progressing towards its goals. Knowledge of the Jewish world(s) from which Christianity derived has rapidly increased since the mid 20th century and will continue to do so as more new data are made available and digested. Early Christianity also is being viewed from new perspectives, and our appreciation for variety and diversity within both Judaism and Christianity in the Greco-Roman world has increased greatly. Study of Christianity in the byzantine/ medieval world has not made comparable progress and remains an obstacle to the sort of methodologically self-conscious approach that I wish to encourage. Our suppositions about what is or is not possible or probable in pre-Christian and non-Christian Jewish circles need to be carefully re-evaluated and reformulated. Similarly, our appreciation for what motivated Christians to transmit, embellish, reshape and transform various Jewish materials throughout the ages needs to be increased if we are to attempt to draw the shadowy line between what may be called “Jewish” and what is clearly “Christian.” For the topic at hand, overtly Christian influences on the transmission of Jewish scriptures, most of the older claims can be dismissed because the assumptions on which they were based are no longer convincing. My impression, which needs considerable further testing, is that the passing of time did not increase the likelihood that Christian copyists would continually insert more and more blatantly Christian material into the texts with which they worked. Indeed, the reverse may have been true, in general—as time went on, and as Christianity won its battles for social acceptance and legitimation as well as for inner consolidation, the sorts of motivation, which at one time might have encouraged the introduction of “Christian interpolations” into transmitted texts (whether Jewish or pagan), became less influential. Jewish scriptures could be accepted for what they were and should be preserved as such. As a rule, tendencies to tamper with the texts would tend to date from relatively early times, from periods of stress with respect to self-identity (especially vis-à-vis Judaism or perceived “heresy”). This also seems true for textual criticism in

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general, where the earliest period in the transmission of written materials is likely to be the period of greatest variety, before sufficient distance and appreciation has been achieved to produce a more self-consciously deliberate treatment of the material. And as time goes on, the early variations often become domesticated [[226]] into the ongoing streams of transmission, perhaps even by a conscious process of selection (as in “recensional” activity). We all but lose sight of the early varieties—the “Quintas,” “Sextas” and “Septimas,” even the Theodotions and Aquilas and Symmachoses. I suspect there may have been a fairly active period in which some Christians strengthened their Christian claims by editing copies of Jewish scriptures in as favorable a manner as they dared.46 But I find it almost impossible to identify (or recreate) concrete evidence of such activity. Much of the more blatant evidence probably no longer exists—it would have been edited out of the ongoing streams long since. And the evidence that may still exist cannot be isolated with confidence because its strength and appeal lay in its ambiguous nature with respect to Judaism—it is part of God’s prophetic, revelatory mystery and is “Christian” only to those who know how to read it! To others it is simply archaic—a vestige of an ancient Jewish heritage. But this is precisely how many Christians viewed scriptural materials that are patently, demonstrably Jewish—the beloved passages from Psalms or Isaiah or Jeremiah! If Isaiah had not survived as scripture, and we suddenly came across a quoted passage in our Christian literarure containing the words now found in Isaiah 53, we would be almost compelled to call it “Christian composition/interpolation” (etc.), without further discussion. We would be dead wrong, because we had not appreciated what was possible within the broad framework of what we call ancient Judaism. My conclusion, and intuition, with regard to alleged “Christian” tampering with Jewish scriptures is that a thorough re-examination of the problem is in order and that a strictly controlled approach will, in the long run, serve us well in the quest for a more satisfactory understanding of our Christian and Jewish heritages.

46 That Christians sometimes tampered with their own proto-canonical and/or canonical writings is argued by Bart D. Ehrman, The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture: The Effect of Early Christological Controversies on the Text of the New Testament (Oxford: OUP, 1996). This is a related issue that deserves closer examination in the present context.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE WEIGHING OF THE PARTS: PIVOTS AND PITFALLS IN THE STUDY OF EARLY JUDAISMS AND THEIR EARLY CHRISTIAN OFFSPRING1 In the study of early Christianity, we often hear references to the “Parting of the Ways” as the process or result of Christianity declaring itself independent of its Jewish origins, and of Judaism reciprocally rejecting Christianity.2 It is quite obvious that the “ways” that led to classical Christianity and rabbinic Judaism did indeed “part” by the fourth century ce. This becomes true simply by definition, since in those classical Christian and classical Jewish communities, each understood the other as “other.” To be a “Christian” involved in part not being a “Jew,” and vice versa. They came to understand themselves as exclusively different “religions,” and/or perhaps also, at times, exclusively different cultural options. But the path to such a simple and clear answer is littered with the sorts of complexities that surround all historical and social developments, that is, all human developments; these complexities get masked by the urge to make and keep things clear and simple. It was doubtless with this in mind that the organizers of the Princeton colloquium selected the confrontational title, “The Ways that Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages.” To issue such a challenge to “common knowledge” (or exclusive definition) may appear, on the surface of things, to be a bold step, but it constitutes an invitation to look more closely at the micro-histories behind that “common knowledge” in order to determine what other trajectories may be ascertained. A challenge is offered to a unilateral development 1 This essay appeared originally as pp. 87–94 in The Ways that Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages (ed. Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed; Texts and Studies in Ancient Judaism 95; Tübingen: Mohr/ Siebeck, 2003). 2 See, for example, James D.G. Dunn, The Partings of the Ways Between Christianity and Judaism and their Significance for the Character of Christianity (London: SCM, 1991); also idem (ed.), Jews and Christians: The Parting of the Ways, ad 70 to 135 (The Second Durham-Tübingen Research Symposium on Earliest Christianity and Judaism, Durham, September 1989; Cambridge: Eerdmans, 1992).

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model. Ockham’s razor is blunted if not shattered, and one of the major results is to explore quite closely the interrelationships of the various parts and participants and [[88]] particularities that in various ways produced the familiar medieval/classical landscape. In an obvious attempt to be clever, I’ve christened this deconstructive exploratory process “The Weighing of the Parts.” Although there is a rash of modern literature that is relevant to this subject, I will make no attempt to survey it extensively or directly but will pay some attention, by way of footnotes, to aspects of two recent contributions, from Gabrielle Boccaccini and Seth Schwartz.3 Several points need to be made, some methodological and others evidentiary. Since effective methodology cannot take place in a vacuum (true by definition; otherwise it would not be considered “effective”), these aspects of method and data cannot always be separated. One of the first lines of attack on traditional assumptions and arguments is the recognition of how many “parts” there are to be “weighed”! It is fashionable in some scholarly circles today to speak of “Judaisms” (rather than simply “Judaism”) in the period prior to the ever increasing success of “rabbinic” authority;4 regarding Christianity, we hear fewer voices speaking of “Christianities” in the early period, but the same recognition is captured with the oft heard references to early Christian “varieties,” including discussions of whether such varieties as “gnosticism” can be considered legitimately “Christian.”5 The vocabulary used

3

Gabrielle Boccaccini, Roots of Rabbinic Judaism: An Intellectual History, from Ezekiel to Daniel (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), especially the “Introduction: The Intellectual Quest of Rabbinic Origins and Roots”; and Seth Schwartz, Imperialism and Jewish Society, 200 bce to 640 ce (Princeton: Princeton UP, 2001). 4 The use of “Judaisms” became popularized by the anthology entitled Judaisms and their Messiahs at the Turn of the Christian Era (Cambridge: CUP, 1987), edited by Jacob Neusner, William Scott Green and Ernest S. Frerichs. Boccaccini is sympathetic: “Neusner’s approach has already left its clear imprint on Judaic studies (‘from Judaism to Judaisms’) and the indication of a much promising method of studying rabbinic origins and roots as a comparison of systems of thought that ‘took place in succession to one another’ ” (Roots of Rabbinic Judaism [2002] 14; citing Jacob Neusner, The Four Stages of Rabbinic Judaism [London: Routledge, 1998]). Schwartz emphasizes the variety without embracing the plural terminology: “It is difficult to imagine any serious scholar ever again describing the Judaism of the later Second Temple period as a rigorous, monolithic orthodoxy, as was still common only a generation ago” (Imperialism, 4–5); or again, “In this book I assume that ancient Judaism was complex, capacious, and rather frayed at the edges,” although not “multiple” (p. 9). 5 For example, James D.G. Dunn, Unity and Diversity in the New Testament: An Inquiry into the Character of Earliest Christianity (London: SCM, 1990–92); Walter Bauer, with Georg Strecker, Orthodoxy (1971).

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is perhaps less crucial than the situation it attempts to represent—there are many “parts” to be recognized and weighed in the close study of these materials! And, [[89]] indeed, this multifaceted situation does not automatically disappear with the “victory” of the respective classical forms of these religions. There continue to be variant, sometimes competing, forms within and sometimes somewhere between each tradition (e.g., Samaritans, Karaite Judaism, Cathar Christianity, Mandeans, Manicheans, “mysticism” of various sorts). In some ways, there is little that is new in these observations. The presence of “Jewish” groups and/or perspectives labeled Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes, and more, comes straight from the ancient sources. Modern supplementation, by attempting to give actual social reality to ancient Jews with apocalyptic, wisdom, Enochic, hellenistic, or other foci, simply increases the possible “parts” we need to deal with.6 On the Christian side of the ledger, our ancient reporters mention especially “docetics” and “gnostics” of various stripes, and more vaguely “Judaizers” as well as “chiliasts” and the like; modern study has refined things further by categorizing the “parts” as Pauline, Johannine, syncretistic, reformist (e.g., Cynics), and so forth.7 The naming process is relatively easy. Weighing the parts in relation to each other and to the respective surrounding worlds is quite another matter.8 [[90]]

6 Boccaccini provides an excellent example of an attempt to isolate various tendencies and socio-religious interests within Judaism, especially in the period that he labels “middle Judaism.” See his Middle Judaism (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), followed by Beyond the Essene Hypothesis: The Parting of the Ways between Qumran and Enochic Judaism (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), and now Roots of Rabbinic Judaism (2002). 7 For a general overview of the earliest Christian materials, see Bart D. Ehrman, The New Testament: a Historical Introduction to the Early Christian Writings (Oxford: OUP, 2003). See also above, n. 4. 8 In the opening chapter of his Roots of Rabbinic Judaism (2002), entitled “Introduction: The Intellectual Quest of Rabbinic Origins and Roots,” Boccaccini attempts to survey the work of his recent predecessors, including: E.P. Sanders (“covenantal nomism” as the common denominator or “essence” of Judaism); Lawrence H. Schiffman (an “evolutionary model” in which “the essence of Judaism is its history,” which leads to the rabbinic stage); Shaye J.D. Cohen and Martin S. Jaffee (a more ethnocentric model in which “Judaism is the history of its people”); and Jacob Neusner (“the history of Judaism is the history of Judaisms”). Seth Schwartz, whose book would not have appeared in time for Boccaccini to use, would probably fit somewhere between Schiffman’s “evolutionary” approach and Neusner’s “skepticism,” and he uses a large measure of the emphasis on variety and change attributed to Cohen and Jaffee. Schwartz argues for a general “coherence” around “the three pillars of ancient Judaism—the one God, the one Torah, and the one Temple” within which there was “messiness, diversity, and unpredictability of the effects of this system in Jewish Palestinian society in the first

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Definitions and assumptions play crucial, often unrecognized roles in such discussions. If “Judaism” really is taken to be meaningful only in some sort of direct relationship with what it became in its later classical forms (I hesitate to oversimplify even here and say “form” in the singular)—a definitional assumption that seems to be alive and thriving even in some contemporary scholarly circles—then some aspects of the ancient evidence will be privileged over others (e.g., legal and ritual interests, “biblical” connections, separatism, roots-awareness).9 It becomes difficult, for example, to imagine someone, or some group, being at the same time “Jewish” and uninterested in aspects of ritual law (e.g., circumcision, food restrictions). Were there such people? Of course. Why should that world be so different from ours? Are they important for purposes of understanding historical developments and processes? Of course. To ignore them or pretend they didn’t exist is to neglect an aspect of the real world that creates both attraction and reaction, perhaps revulsion, at the very least. Philo is well aware of such situations, and he tries to tread a fine line between them. For him, understanding (often hidden) meanings is crucial, but he is wary of throwing out the baby with the bath water in failing to find an appropriate balance between such meanings and the activities that they relate to and/or interpret.10 Probably his nephews, Marcus Julius Alexander and Tiberius Julius Alexander, both active in Roman civil

century.” He also notes “the existence of a subsidiary ideological system—basically, a mildly dualistic mythological narrative—that implicitly contradicted the main one.” For Schwartz, “the main sects were in fact an integral part of the Torah-centered Judaean mainstream elite . . . the three main sects are evidence not simply of Judaism’s diversity but also of the power of its ideological mainstream. For their part, the Christians illustrate the proposition that there were limits to acceptable diversity in ancient Judaism, for those who remained Jewish did so by affirming their adherence to the Torah and at least the idea of a temple, while the rest in short order ceased to regard themselves as Jews” (Imperialism, 49). 9 As noted above, the most important categories for Schwartz’s treatment of Palestinian Judaism in the “second temple” period are God-Torah-Temple (but with lots of variations), which he finds compatible with Sanders’ “covenantal nomisim.” Some would add the idea of election/peoplehood and the “promised land” (e.g., Dunn, Partings of the Ways [1991]); see also Boccaccini‘s presentation of the Cohen-Jaffee approach, in the preceding note). 10 The classic Philonic passage is from Migration of Abraham 86–93. Philo sometimes seems caught between his epistemological idealism (attention to essences and meanings) and his socio-political realism (avoiding conflicts or criticisms that weaken community)—a dilemma doubtless encouraged by his Platonic orientation, which values both aspects.

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service, were less committed to such compromise. Would that make them less “Jewish”? For fruitful pursuit of all such discussions, clear and consistent definition is basic. In my experience, most “arguments” about this subject area are actually valid or invalid (successful or unsuccessful) “by definition.” That is, if the definitions being used for “Jewish” or “Christian” were clear and explicit, arguments about whether this or that individual or text or phenomenon could be considered “Jewish” (or “Christian”) would simply become unnecessary. If my understanding of “Jewish” does not permit me to apply that term to data in which Jesus is [[91]] uniquely and self-consciously revered, it may be necessary to explore the extent to which a given historical witness does or does not reverence Jesus; when that has been determined, the choice of labels will be self-evident. In such an approach the parts may still be in need of weighing, but that will take place inside of the boundaries imposed by the definition.11 But the practice of imposing definitions upon material is not the only possible approach, and in my estimation it is less satisfactory, for historical purposes, than attempting to let the materials define themselves. Admittedly, such relativizing of labels (i.e., definitions) can

11 Interestingly, in his otherwise provocative and instructive treatment of Palestinian Judaism’s relationship to “Imperial Power,” Schwartz seems carefully to avoid proposing or establishing any definition of “Judaism” beyond his rather fuzzy (and largely assumed rather than argued!) triad of God-Torah-Temple, over against which he sees various shades of deviation. For example, “how can the centrality of God-Temple-Torah in Jewish self-definition be proved? What about the Judaean settlements at Elephantine or, more chronologically relevant, at Heliopolis/Leontopolis in Egypt? Or the worshipers of the Most High God settled in the Cimmerian Bosporus? Did these Jews, too, if that is what they considered themselves, live in symbolic worlds whose central components were the Temple and the Torah?” (Imperialism, 50). He then argues that the centrality of Torah-Temple are “not a priori an eternal truth of Jewish identity, uncontingent on changing social and political conditions” (p. 50) but the result of a process, and that originally “pagan” areas in Palestine that “passed under Judean rule all now became in some sense Jewish” (p. 51) and “had by and large internalized some version of the ideology that was centrally constitutive of Judaism, [but] we must not assume that their Judaism was indistinguishable from that of the Judaeans” (p. 52). Further on, Schwartz mentions the Diaspora, where the legal and social contexts were different, and notes that “it is in the Diaspora that one finds clearest evidence of radically anomalous types of Judaism, as well as a constant trickle of people both in and out of Judaism” (p. 74). He does not show any awareness or provide any discussion of the value of definitions for his project, and it is clear that although he recognizes the value of “self-identification” as an important factor, he does not limit himself to it as the central definitional criterion. These aspects of his otherwise very instructive study are, I think, distressingly problematic.

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lead to confusing situations in which self-identifications (“I am a Jew”) may be in conflict with assessments made in the same world (“You are not really a Jew”). Even then, however, we can learn more about the historical situation by recognizing the apparent confusion than we can by ignoring it or defining it away. For our “Parting of the Ways” and/or “Weighing of the Parts” perspectives, historical self-identification (explicit or suspected) may force the modern scholar to develop new categories and vocabularies that are more satisfactory for the task. If, in their own understandings, Herod the Great and his successors were “Jewish”—as were Philo and his nephews, Jesus and his opponents, Paul and the other “apostles,” Hillel and Shammai, Josephus and Bar Kokhba, etc.—our task as would-be “insiders” is to refine our categories in order to enable better [[92]] understandings of the situation(s). This holds similarly for the “Christianity” of such people as Marcion, Montanus, Mani, Valentinus, and the like. And this requires a whole lot of “weighing” within the historical contexts that produced the available evidence (and with an awareness of our own motives and contexts). What issues were important to the historical participants, and how do those issues affect our historical understandings? Complexity is the normal state of human social existence, and complexity is certainly the rule with reference to the situations under examination here. Prior to the emergence of self-conscious “Christianity,” and even after that, there was significant diversity within the seedbed from which classical Judaism later emerged. And from its very start within that seedbed, Christian varieties would also be expected to be in evidence—is it likely that all of the earliest followers of Jesus as Messiah/Christ shared the same attitudes to such things as Jewish ritual or eschatological expectations or sources of authority or the value of material/physical existence? Is there any reason to expect such conceptual “unity” at the earliest period of what comes to be called “Christianity”?12 While it is clear that the definitional simplicity of mutually exclusive self-understandings (“Jewish” means, among other things, not “Christian,” and vice versa), where it exists, shows parted 12 Schwartz acutely observes, without attempting further detail: “Jesus was the figure expected to usher in the end of the dominion of evil and the beginning of the rule of God; he and his followers were renowned for their ability to manipulate demons and free people from their influence. It was a movement, or rather a loose collection of related groups, that took shape around a distinctive understanding of the [eschatological] myth complex, a movement in which the Torah was not ignored (it could not possibly have been) but was definitely of secondary importance” (Imperialism, 91).

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ways, it is not clear that historically, every user of these terms “Jewish” or “Christian” (or their functional equivalents) would accept the exclusivist element. At the start of the fifth century, Jerome scoffs at those whom he claims to have encountered in the Syro-Palestinian region who would accept both designations (for Jerome, “they are neither”!),13 and we are left to [[93]] speculate whether their multi-sidedness is indicative of a self-understanding that had continuity from the very outset of “Christianity.” Various clues are scattered along the path (e.g., Justin in his dialogue with Trypho on the reception of “Jewish” believers in “Christian” communities;14 the rabbinic traditions concerning Elisha ben Abuya [“Aḥer,” the “other” oriented one];15 Tertullian on Christians as a “third race”),16 but it is difficult to connect the dots with any confidence or consistency. And why, after all, should we care? Some of us are simply nosy, inquisitive. We want to have answers to as many of the “why?”s as we can handle—or at least be able to frame appropriate questions. We are uncomfortable with overly comfortable answers. Some of us may want to explore different solutions to old problems. If Judaism and Christianity were not always mutually exclusive by definition, perhaps some sort of contemporary rapprochement can be recreated with reference to the historical developments; history

13 Jerome, Epistle 112.13, to Augustine (apparently also designated “Epistle 79” in some sources) [PL 22.0924/746–47]: Quid dicam de Ebionitis, qui Christianos esse se simulant? Usque hodie per totas Orientis synagogas inter Judaeos haeresis est, quae dicitur Minaeorum, et a Pharisaeis nunc usque damnatur: quos vulgo Nazaraeos nuncupant, qui credunt in Christum Filium Dei, natum de virgine Maria, et eum dicunt esse, qui sub Pontio Pilato passus est, et resurrexit, in quem et nos credimus: sed dum volunt et Judaei esse et Christiani, nec Judaei sunt, nec Christiani. [What am I to say about the Ebionites, who pretend that they are themselves Christians? To this very day, throughout all the eastern synagogues, there is a heresy/sect among the Jews which is called “of the Minim” and is condemned even now by the Pharisees. Those people are commonly designated “Nazarenes,” who believe in Christ as Son of God, born of the virgin Mary, and they acknowledge that he is the one who suffered/died under Pontius Pilate and was resurrected, in whom we also believe. But while they wish to be both Jews and Christians, they are neither Jews nor Christians!] 14 Justin, Dialogue with Trypho 46–7. 15 E.g., b. Hagigah 15a; see also Alan Segal, Two Powers in Heaven: Early Rabbinic Reports about Christianity and Gnosticism (SJLA 25; Leiden: Brill, 1977) and the discussions it engendered. 16 E.g., Tertullian, Scorpiace 10: Illic constitues et synagogas Judaeorum, fontes persecutionum, apud quas Apostoli flagella perpessi sunt, et populos nationum cum suo quidem circo, ubi facile conclamant, “Usquequo genus tertium?” (PL) [Will you plant there both synagogues of the Jews—fountains of persecution—before which the apostles endured the scourge, and heathen assemblages with their own circus, forsooth, where they readily join in the cry, “Death to the third race”? (NPNF)]

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provides basic justification for trying to reset the clock to a more favorable time and situation. Some of us revel in the unusual, in what seems to challenge the accepted norms. Some of us are looking for evidences of “influence,” to try to trace the various tides and ripples on the troubled sea of human history. Some want to focus on the continuities of history, to trace the roots of what has survived to the present. Whatever our motives, we collect the clues and sift the variegated sands to recreate or recapture what we think is a more accurate picture of this aspect of our historical past, which also is to some degree our historical heritage. How can we proceed responsibly in such difficult waters? We are driven partly by reaction to commonly accepted oversimplifications, although we are always in danger of making the same mistakes in our own reformulations. To be aware that mono-directional models need to be avoided is one thing, actually to avoid them is another. We are also forced to make much use of arguments from analogy—what we can see in our own worlds clearly happening elsewhere or elsewhen may provide us [[94]] with the possibility, other things being similar, that the same sorts of things happened in the period or materials we study. Thus we build up probabilities on the basic assumption that individuals and groups operating under similar conditions will operate similarly. To the extent that our impressions about what is similar are accurate, and to some degree persuasive, we fill in some of the missing blanks in the historical records. And we operate on sort of a spiral of exploration, which comes around to the same questions and subject matter every so often but with fresh insights and sometimes even new evidence that has been acquired since the previous time around, thus moving the discussion to a new level. Since we can’t all be experts in everything that is significant or necessary for our investigations, a major factor in this weighing and reweighing process is the identification of trustworthy partners and resources in the process. Whom do you trust in areas outside of your expertise? And why? What does all this have to do with the “Parting of the Ways” or “The Weighing of the Parts” in exploring the respective developments of those complexities covered by the terms “early Judaism” and “early Christianity”—and what followed them in both the “classical” formulations and also otherwise? Our most basic definitions and assumptions tell us that at a most obvious level (“the big picture”), the ways did part, although perhaps at different times and under different circumstances in different locations in the course of history. But by weighing the

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parts—that is, by recognizing the immense diversity that existed (and to some extent still exists) within and between the targeted traditions and attempting to understand how the representatives interacted, or perhaps refused to do so—we may be able to begin to understand more fully, if not more clearly, what was involved in the various processes out of which classical Judaism and classical Christianity shaped themselves and gradually became dominant (at least from the perspective of traditional Western history) and definitionally mutually exclusive from the fourth century onward.

CHAPTER FIVE

COMBINED REVIEW1 The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha: Volume 1: Apocalyptic Literature and Testaments; Volume 2: Expansions of the “Old Testament” and Legends, Wisdom and Philosophical Literature, Prayers, Psalms, and Odes, Fragments of Lost Judeo-Hellenistic Works. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983 and 1985. The Apocryphal Old Testament, Edited by H.F.D. Sparks. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984. These volumes (OTP 1–2, AOT) have been reviewed, individually or in combinations, in part or in whole, in various publications by various scholars with various insights, commendations and complaints.2 There is general consensus that the diverse reading publics, whether specialists or generalists or somewhere in between, have profited from the appearance of these works, whatever the shortcomings. Since the following review often will be bluntly critical in its evaluations, let me emphasize at the outset that I can and do appreciate the enormous amount of useful effort, especially on the part of the respective editors, that has gone into producing these anthologies, and I readily admit that we are better off with them than we would be without them. Serious students and scholars who deal with early forms of “Judaism” and the heritages they left will need to consult these volumes regularly, especially the set edited by Charlesworth. I would purchase these books, at least

1 This combined review appeared originally in Religious Studies Review 14.2 (April 1988) 113–17; some additional material, including some from my separate review of Charlesworth in JBL 106 (1987) 736–39, has also been incorporated here. Since my comments are largely methodological in nature, it seemed appropriate to include this revised version of the review at this point. 2 See e.g., Richard Bauckham “The Apocalypses in the New Pseudepigrapha,” JSNT 26 (1986) 97–117; Sebastian P. Brock, Review of Charlesworth, vol. 1 in JJS 35 (1984) 200–9 and of vol. 2 in JJS 38 (1987) 108–14; David Hay, Studia Philonica Annual 1 (1989) 127–28; George W.E. Nickelsburg, CBQ 50 (1988) 288–91; see esp. Michael E. Stone’s companion review to this one, RSR 14 (1988) 111–13.

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at the original prices in 1983–1985.3 This is a strong, if not unqualified, recommendation! Nevertheless, these works have serious shortcomings to which users should be alerted. Since ultimately the editors, Charlesworth and Sparks, rightly or wrongly bear the responsibility for such failings as well as receive the praise for the successes, this review will concentrate on the overtly “editorial contributions” in the respective materials. Much could and should also be said about the individual contributions (see, e.g., Brock’s review), but that will not be the focus here. Serving as general editor to such corpora can be a frustrating, time consuming, and largely thankless task. One is not well advised to jump into it lightly. It requires a great deal of time and effort, depends on the work of others with whom the editor may not completely agree and leaves the editor open to various sorts of criticism both of the whole and of its parts. It requires a special combination of personal and professional traits and talents to do it successfully. The larger the number of contributors, the more potential for problems. The wider the range of coverage, the more difficult the organizational task. And so forth. If an editor is fortunate and/or very talented, the work can all be made to fit together with relative “homogeneity” of some sort, and the plusses will outweigh the minuses. Frequently things do not work out so neatly. Few people would have accepted the assignment faced by Charlesworth or by Sparks, and doubtless each person confronted with such a task would have done things slightly differently. From the outset, there are obvious significant differences between Charlesworth and Sparks as editors as well as between the circumstances that gave birth to the respective editions, and these differences color the final products. When Charlesworth was offered this assignment by the publisher in 1972, he was an energetic junior faculty member (PhD 1967) who was actively pursuing dissertation related research on the Odes of Solomon and related topics and was serving as secretary to the steering committee of the recently founded (1969) SBL Pseudepigrapha Group. He had already published a couple of articles, and his new edition of the Syriac Odes (1973) was about to go to press.4 He

3 The prices have, of course, skyrocketed in the meantime; these volumes are still available in 2008 (Sparks appeared in paperback in 1985; Yale University Press reissued Charlesworth in 2007). 4 The Odes of Solomon: the Syriac Texts (Oxford, 1973; reprinted, with minor corrections, by Scholars Press, 1977).

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knew that the Sparks edition was (as we then thought!) nearly ready for publication after about fifteen years of preparation [!] and that the Pseudepigrapha Group steering committee thought it premature to try to produce a more sophisticated anthology of such writings, before considerably more textual and editorial activity on individual works had been undertaken. Nevertheless, he succumbed to the wooing of the press and rashly contracted on his own to edit an anthology of translations by specialists, and to write all the introductions himself. When these arrangements were announced, there was a flood of reactions from other members of the Pseudepigrapha Group, including the strong recommendation that Charlesworth not attempt to author all the introductions. He took this advice, with the result that in the “Duke-Doubleday” OTP, the introductions are mostly written by the respective translators and/or their redactors. Sparks, on the other hand, was already professor of biblical interpretation (since 1952) at Oxford when in the late 1950s he became involved in what seemed to be a fairly straightforward in-house proposal by the Oxford Press to update the translations found in R.H. Charles’ Pseudepigrapha volume,5 perhaps adjusting the contents somewhat, and to provide brief new introductions (with bibliographies) to produce a saleable companion volume to the perennially useful New Testament Apocrypha edited by M.R. James.6 Sparks was not at that time, nor did he become, a publishing technical scholar in Jewish pseudepigraphical matters (his publication activities have tended to focus on the New Testament, especially the Gospels, and on text critical matters, especially Latin), but he was already an experienced editor with appropriate knowledge of the materials to be edited and appropriate stature for coordinating the team of revisors/translators that was appointed. The overall character of the respective resulting editions reflects these circumstances. Under Sparks’ direction, OTA turns out to be a very convenient, relatively “solid,” “safe,” and “standard” Oxford edition. It doesn’t take many chances (e.g., “the extant fragments of the apocryphal Ezekiel . . . were thought too insubstantial to merit inclusion,” 5 R.H. Charles, Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament (2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1913) [= APOT]. 6 M.R. James, The Apocryphal New Testament, Being the Apocryphal Gospels, Acts, Epistles, and Apocalypses, with other Narratives and Fragments Newly Translated (Oxford: Clarendon, 1924, supplemented ed. 1955); this has now been replaced by J.K. Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament: A Collection of Apocryphal Christian Literature in an English Translation Based on M.R. James (Oxford: OUP, 1993).

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xv), and is self-conscious about its connections to its predecessors (e.g., “I can only hope that the result [of modernizing the translations] will not be judged too aggressively modern,” xi; “In practice the differences in content between our volume and Charles’s second volume [on “Pseudepigrapha”] are nothing like so great as the above remarks might suggest. . . . There is an essential core common to both volumes,” xv–xvi). Its format is consistent: After the relatively compact editor’s Preface and other front matter, the 25 selected “apocryphal” texts are presented in the chronological order of the “biblical” figures/events with which they are associated, from Jubilees (creation) and the Enoch literature through to the Ezra-Sedrach cycle. The individual introductions by Sparks are usually about 4–6 pages in length (1 Enoch is 11 pages, Testament of Jacob is 1 page) and deal almost exclusively with questions of title, attestation, and textual witnesses/transmission. Then comes a solid and relatively extensive, if “select,” bibliography of editions, translations, and “general” treatments, also by Sparks. (On balance, the Sparks bibliographies appear to be more helpful than those in Charlesworth.) The translations of the various texts were prepared by a team of collaborators, sometimes simply updating the material in Charles (e.g., Assumption of Moses, Ascension of Isaiah) but usually preparing entirely new translations (e.g., Knibb on 1 Enoch, Turner on Testament of Abraham, de Jonge on the Testaments of the 12 Patriarchs, Brock on Psalms of Solomon), and contain frequent footnotes limited to textual/translational issues. At the end are indices of scriptural references, ancient and modern authors/works, and subjects/topics. Thus Sparks has produced a competent and very useful handbook in a style that does indeed fall somewhere in between Charles and M.R. James (whose Lost Apocrypha of the Old Testament is reflected in the rationale for choosing documents as well as for organizing them in a biblical-biographical chronology).7 But it lacks the excitement and stimulation that might have been generated by a more expert and more adventurous approach in the introductory treatments (compare, e.g., Brock’s brief comments on the books covered by OTP 1 for a sample of such stimulation from one of Sparks’ team of translators). Under Charlesworth’s editorial hand, OTP is a much more complex and varied compilation—it is at the same time bolder and brasher, more energetic, less balanced, less sure of itself, more vulnerable, and

7

Lost Apocrypha (1920) [also online].

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in the long run, more exciting and rewarding. Surely some of this is the result of the editor’s own rather rash enthusiasms, but much of it is also due to the relatively younger expert collaborators he enlisted to prepare the introductions and translations in OTP. Here we often find ourselves on the cutting edges (and ragged edges!) of research into these materials, with the problems—and rewards—generated by such a situation. The advice that Charlesworth not attempt by himself to write all the introductions clearly has paid off, in general. What is sacrificed in homogeneity of style and approach is atoned for amply in these other ways. Not that every contribution to OTP is a gem; indeed, there are some major disappointments. But taken as a whole, the quality pieces predominate, or at least are worth the price of the whole collection. That Charlesworth deserves to be criticized for various editorial failures (see below) cannot obliterate the fact that despite these failures, the volumes are overall a success. And they provide a basis for scholarly progress in the study of these literatures that may be more difficult to establish from the Sparks edition. The editorial structure of the Charlesworth edition is complex. As general editor functioning with a board of advisors (R.E. Brown, W.D. Davies, W. Harrelson, B.M. Metzger, R.E. Murphy, J. Strugnell), Charlesworth contributes an “Editor’s Preface” (xv–xvii), an “Introduction for the General Reader” (xxi–xxxiv), and brief introductions to each of the six subsections (apocalyptic, testaments, “OT expansions,” wisdom/philosophy, prayers/psalms/odes, and fragments of lost works). In addition, there are three prefaces by other writers (see details below) and a general introduction to the supplementary fragments of lost works, by John Strugnell. Such a plethora of introductory treatments is not in itself necessarily distracting, since it may be helpful to have certain divergent types of general information located separately. Unfortunately, in these volumes the diversity of treatments and locations makes it difficult to get an accurate, comprehensive picture of the editorial context of this collection. Some of the matters in the “Editor’s Preface” would fit the general introduction better, such as the organization of the volumes, the coverage requested from individual contributors in the introductions to specific works, and the approach to translation style. Questions of definition, inclusion, and exception that are raised in the introductions to subsections would have been more valuable (also) in the general introduction (e.g., when is an “apocalypse,” or a “testament,” not an apocalypse/testament?). Because of its more homogeneous nature, the Sparks volume suffers less from this sort of distraction. The single

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“Preface” by Sparks tells about the evolution of the volume, describes the approach it adopts, and defends its selectivity in content. How do the editions compare with respect to definition of the subject area and choice of texts for inclusion? For Sparks, the rationale for choosing which works to include involves “whether or not a particular item is attributed to (or is primarily concerned with the history or activities of) an Old Testament character (or characters).” Nevertheless, “to have included everything which satisfies this criterion would have been impossible. In making our choices we have been guided principally by a desire to produce a collection as representative as possible of the various types of literature within the field—i.e., History (and Legend), Testament, Apocalypse, Psalms, etc.” (xv). But nowhere in the volume is there any significant discussion of why these specific “representatives” have been chosen or of what constitutes, or differentiates, one “type” from another. Sparks does note that the “Testament” of Abraham does not have the trappings of “normal” testaments (see also 734) and thus might be better titled “The Narrative of the Death of Abraham” (395–96), and he observes that the “Apocalypse of Sedrach” “is not an apocalypse as the term ‘apocalypse’ is usually understood” (953), but otherwise makes little attempt to take note of such matters. He isn’t really interested in discussions of types, as much as in discussing titles. In his task as editor, Charlesworth rightly attempts to cover a wide range of materials in these introductory treatments and to touch base with various aspects of the collective whole. It is not difficult to pick quarrels here and there. On the larger issues, he fails to provide any consistent definition or rationale for the selection of texts in the collection. This is admitted, though in a very convoluted manner, in the key paragraph at the bottom of p. xxv: I have had to take a stance on the definition of ‘pseudepigrapha’. . . . The following collection . . . has evolved from the consensus that the Pseudepigrapha must be defined broadly so as to include all documents that conceivably belong to the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. The present description of the Pseudepigrapha is as follows: . . . the above comments do not define the term ‘pseudepigrapha’; they merely describe the features of this collection.

Thus, apparently, this collection of Jewish and Christian materials is largely arbitrary, but many of its representatives have common features such as attribution “to ideal figures in Israel’s past” and/or the claim to contain a message from God and/or a close relationship to OT “ideas and narratives” (not to mention forms) and/or focus on Jewish materials

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dating from 200 bce to 200 ce (xxv). This impression of arbitrariness is fortified by the very next paragraph, which explains the exclusion from this collection of “other writings, although they may have some characteristics of the Pseudepigrapha” (xxvi). Charlesworth’s “stance,” then, is not to operate within the framework of a rationalized definition but to choose from a wide miscellany of possible candidates. Charlesworth, on the other hand, attempts to be very conscious of types and classifications, as has already been noted. His decision to spread the nets widely and “include all documents that conceivably belong to the OT Pseudepigrapha” results in a collection of 52 writings plus various “fragments of lost Judeo-Hellenistic works,” which makes this an extremely valuable collection, quantitatively. Unfortunately, as noted, the rationales for doing so are muddled, the criteria for inclusion/exclusion seem extremely arbitrary, and the explanation of how and why we have these materials at all is almost completely lacking, leaving the relatively uninformed reader with a misguided sense that despite the occasional caveats to the contrary, there must be some sort of cohesion in this miscellany of materials. In contrast, Sparks does not attempt to make an extensive or organized collection, and even eschews referring to “the pseudepigrapha” for fear of implying that there is a sort of “trito-canonical” collection alongside the canonical and deutero-canonical (= “the Apocrypha”) works (xvii). How does Charlesworth’s edition fare on such issues of detail, thrust, and tone? There is good news, and there is bad news. That is the good news, in a nutshell. It is useful and convenient to have in print and in English such extensive collections of non-canonical and non-rabbinic “Jewish” writings from antiquity. Charlesworth has provided the largest collection, similar in scope to Riessler’s German collection,8 with sizable introductions to each work (unlike Riessler, but approaching the pattern in R.H. Charles’ 1913 APOT ). Unfortunately, the overriding concept behind the project is relatively unclear and the specific contents of Charlesworth’s two volumes are very uneven with reference both to the introductions and to the translations. Not all of the original assignees saw their task through to completion, and not all were sufficiently “expert” in their contributions to insure consistently high quality to the collection. While the editor can hardly be held responsible for all the quirks of fate that governed this process, he is not entirely blameless

8

P. Riessler, Altjüdisches Schrifttum ausserhalb der Bibel (Augsburg: Filser, 1928).

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for how it all finally worked out. The scholarly “texture” in these two volumes—especially in volume 1—is very uneven, ranging from very very high quality to relatively embarrassing. This is unfortunate, and the editor must share the blame as well as the credit. Sparks’ collection is less ambitious, being caught between the two models (both published by Oxford Press) of Charles’ Pseudepigrapha volume for the number and type of writings selected, and of M.R. James’ Apocryphal NT for the brevity of introductions and the targeted audience. Since Sparks wrote all the introductions himself and attempted to “modernize” the Charles-like translations at a late prepublication stage, his volume has more homogeneity. Nevertheless, in reacting to certain aspects of Charles’ principles for selecting “Jewish” “pseudepigrapha”—and indeed, moving towards James’ biographical organizational principle as evidenced in his Lost Apocrypha of the OT (1920 see above n. 7)—Sparks has not contributed any clarity to what these books may or may not represent or how they can best be used in historically conscious research. The introductions to the individual books consistently deal with questions of what textual witnesses exist, when the work was known and by whom. Sometimes they give a précis of the work. They almost never attempt to address the questions of literary form/type or of the historical dynamics that might have produced such pieces of literature. Despite “modernized” translations, the overall approach has a stable, but archaic tone. Fresh Directions, Misdirections Both editions consciously include some “late documents, and Christian expansions of early Jewish writings” (OTP, xv; see AOT, xv). For Charlesworth, this is because they “frequently preserve edited portions of early Jewish writings” (xv), while for Sparks it is because it is difficult to draw a clear line between “Jewish” and “Christian” in the literature he selects (xv). This inclusive approach has definite advantages—writings need not be arbitrarily carved apart to isolate only the allegedly “Jewish” sections (as in APOT, e.g., with Martyrdom/Ascension of Isaiah, Sibylline Oracles, 2 Enoch), and potentially relevant materials associated with the name of a specific revered person can be represented more fully (e.g., Adam, Ezra-Sedrach). Unfortunately, although Charlesworth states that “the late documents . . . must not be read as if they were composed by contemporaries” (i.e., in the 200 bce to 200

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ce range; xv and xxv) and Sparks acknowledges the probability “that Christians also wrote works with a traditionally Jewish background” (xiv), the respective editors nowhere provide a general discussion of how such texts are to be read—in Charlesworth’s introductory materials, it is only the “Foreword for Jews” (sic!) by the late Samuel Sandmel that begins to open the door to what should have been a major section of the general introduction to OTP, namely, the transmission history (which is largely Christian transmission!) of the documents in general [see Chapters One and Two above]. That Sparks shows much more awareness of these problems does not in itself bring him any closer to a satisfactory presentation of the complex situation. Neither editor makes significant headway in providing a map of Christian uses and production of “Jewish” sounding materials. Charlesworth’s recognition of “the variegated, even contradictory, nature of the ideas popular in many sectors of post-exilic Judaism” and of “the rich vitality and diversity of Judaism during the early centuries” (xxix) accurately reflects current scholarship and is a valuable introductory note in a collection of this sort. Unfortunately, the editor neutralizes these observations on the very same page by disclaiming, without further explanation, contemporary scholarship’s “tendency to emphasize unduly [sic!] the diversity in Early Judaism. While it is now recognized that foreign ideas penetrated deeply into many aspects of Jewish thought, and that sometimes it is difficult to decide whether an early document is essentially Jewish or Christian, it is, nevertheless, unwise [sic!] to exaggerate the diversity in Early Judaism. In the first century Judaism was neither uniformly normative nor chaotically diverse.” One wonders whether some sort of hidden agenda lies behind this rather ambivalent, even question-begging, presentation. Sparks neglects to discuss this important issue altogether. [See above, Chapter Four, for further discussion.] Charlesworth wants his volumes to be received in a broadly ecumenical context, “for the scholar and for the interested non-specialist,” and “without confessional bias” (xv). Unfortunately, the prefatory materials, which are paged in roman numbers and are identical in each volume (except for volume-specific contents and lists of contributors), seem to have just the opposite effect. The general, one page “Foreword” by the late George MacRae is followed by another one pager, “Foreword for Christians” by James T. Cleland, the contents of which seem largely irrelevant and unenlightening, but for which some explanation and context is found

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in Charlesworth’s introduction to the Prayer of Manasseh in vol. 2, p. 632, which refers to the “widely influential sermon on Manasseh that was delivered periodically by the late James Cleland, James B. Duke Professor of Preaching and Dean of the Chapel at Duke University.” A somewhat longer “Foreword for Jews” (which should be recommended to non-Jews as well!) by the late Samuel Sandmel then follows, with astute comments contextualizing both the “Pseudepigrapha” texts and their modern study in relation to Judaism and to Jewish and Christian scholarship. It is a pity that some form of this fine piece was not used as the sole “Foreword,” and that the well-meaning but ultimately unnecessarily divisive triad of forewords abandoned—or at least the sectarian titles suppressed! An unfortunate tone for the volumes is set here and is mildly enhanced by the use, “for convenience” (xv), of “Old Testament” (why not “Jewish Scriptures”?) and of “bc/ad” (why not bce/ce?). Sparks, on the other hand, shows no awareness that there is even a potential problem here and speaks consistently in clearly Christian confessional tones of the words of “Our Lord” (xvii) as well as of “Old Testament,” bc/ad, and the like. Commendably, Charlesworth emphasizes the dangers of reading back later attitudes to Jewish biblical “canon” into the period on which his volumes attempt to focus— to call the Pseudepigrapha ‘non-canonical,’ or the biblical books ‘canonical,’ can be historically inaccurate prior to ad 100. . . . It is potentially misleading to use the terms ‘non-canonical,’ ‘canonical,’ ‘heresy,’ and ‘orthodoxy’ when describing either Early Judaism or Early Christianity (xxiv).

Unfortunately, much of the very organization of the collection, not to mention the assumption behind various statements both by the editor and by some individual contributors, is that “OT” precedes “Pseudepigrapha” and becomes the standard by which to recognize and with which to compare the forms and contents of the latter: e.g., “the Pseudepigrapha illustrate the pervasive influence of the OT books upon Early Judaism” (xxviii), “the traditions in the OT provided the framework and most of the presuppositions for the following testaments” (773), “Early Judaism was a religion bound to and defined by the Book, the Torah. . . . The biblical narratives were clarified, enriched, expanded, and sometimes retold from a different perspective” (2.5, introducing the section called “expansions” of “OT” and legends). This sort of approach tends to preclude the possibility of recognizing in the “expansions,”

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etc., materials that may predate, or be independent of, what came to be the “biblical” tradition. Sparks is even more guilty of making the assumption of canonical priority but is at least more consistent in that he seems unaware that there is a problem. Sparks’ own interests seem to be quite limited, vis-à-vis such issues, perhaps in an effort to keep things brief. He does not usually concern himself with questions of what the internal evidence from a writing might reveal about its setting, outlook, audience, reason for preservation, etc.—the interactions of form and content, of literary history and social history. His interests tend to focus on external, textual evidence—what references are made to a text, what manuscripts are preserved and in what languages, what can we determine about its date and origin and history from this material? He still pursues the “old” questions so obvious in the approaches of M.R. James, R.H. Charles and their associates, in which assumptions about canonical centrality govern the way in which similarity to canonical content is interpreted—here we find an echo of the New Testament, here is a development of an “Old Testament” theme. It comes as no surprise to find that one of Sparks’ earliest publications dealt with the Old Testament in the Christian Church.9 AOT is permeated with the imprint of unexamined presuppositions about canonical priority, and with an overconfidence about our abilities to identify vague quotations (e.g., his treatment of quotations found in the Epistle of Barnabas is problematic at almost every point)10 that is reminiscent of an earlier style of scholarship that needs to be reassessed and revised if it is to be convincing or productive today. Sparks provides much useful “hard” data about the subjects he treats, and his bibliographical listings are extremely helpful. But the introductions are one-sided and tend to neglect the issues that will prove to be most productive for providing historical perspective on these sources. As they stand, these editions will certainly cater usefully to the recent growth of interest in “early Judaism”11 and the survival of Jewish-like

9

Sparks, The Old Testament in the Christian Church (London: SCM, 1944). See further Kraft, The Epistle of Barnabas: Its Quotations and Their Sources (PhD Dissertation, Harvard University, 1961; brief summary published in HTR 54 [1961] 300). [Electronic version in process]) and Barnabas and Didache (1965; sections in electronic form also); Pierre Prigent, L’Épître de Barnabé I–XVI et ses Sources (Paris: Libraire LeCoffre, 1961). 11 See e.g., G.W.E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature (2005); “new Schürer,” History 3.1; M.E. Stone (ed.), Jewish Writings (1984). See also the emergence of general introductions 10

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literature and traditions in Christian circles.12 The new translations often are based on new textual analyses or information and more than occasionally have been prepared by one of the persons most closely and productively associated with scholarly research related to that document (e.g., in AOT, Knibb, Turner, Kuhn, de Jonge, Brock, Emerton; in OTP, Alexander, Collins, Stone, Klijn, Kee, Spittler, Burchard, Harrington, Robinson, van der Horst, Sanders, Wright, J.Z. Smith, Attridge, Charlesworth). Sometimes we are provided with the very first published English translation (e.g., in OTP, Testament of Adam, Apocalypse of Daniel, History of the Rechabites). Many of the introductions in OTP are excellent contributions—some even go far beyond what might be expected in such a format (e.g., Philip Alexander’s introduction to 3 Enoch). Unfortunately, some of them are disappointing or inconsequential. In addition, some opportunities to advance scholarship in obvious and useful ways are missed, such as the failure (in OTP) to treat 5 and 6 Ezra as separate works (who doubts this?), or (in both editions) to move towards clearly distinguishing the discrete parts of the “1 Enoch” library (e.g., in OTP, this could be done by means of page headings that reflect the major titles that are inserted into the running text; inexplicably, the Sparks edition neglects even to insert such subtitles into the text, despite Sparks’ acknowledgement that 1 Enoch “is plainly divisible into five subsidiary ‘books’ ” [173]). Especially unfortunate, in the Sparks edition, is the failure to give the expert translators noted above the opportunity to say some things by way of introduction to the texts they translate. What is at stake in this loss can be sampled quite clearly by reading Brock’s detailed review of OTP 1 or Knibb’s introduction to the Martyrdom/Ascension of Isaiah in OTP 2, which moves the discussion so far beyond the basic matters covered in Sparks’ treatment of the same document. Hopefully, if the Sparks volume is reissued in the not too distant future, such supple-

such as J.C. VanderKam, Introduction to Early Judaism (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001). For other recent literature see Chapter One above, n. 11. 12 See Kraft, “The Multiform Jewish Heritage of Early Christianity,” pp. 174–99 in vol. 3 of Christianity, Judaism and other Graeco-Roman Cults (ed. J. Neusner; M. Smith Festschrift; Leiden: Brill, 1975) and online at http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/rs/rak/publics/ Judaism/heritage.html. See also Marinus de Jonge, Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament as part of Christian Literature: the Case of the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs and the Greek Life of Adam and Eve (Leiden: Brill, 2003) and Davila, Provenance of the Pseudepigrapha (2005).

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ments can be added to enhance its value—and hopefully at a price appropriate to encourage classroom use! What have we learned from the appearance of these editions? How has research on these materials been advanced, or retarded? What issues call for careful clarification or reconsideration? Certainly any attempt mechanically or unreflectively to segregate “Jewish” from “Christian” elements and influences must be abandoned and the criteria by which such judgments are made must be reassessed. Sparks sees this more clearly than Charlesworth did, at least at the level of textual transmission and its implications. But there is much room for further discussion and research. Furthermore, the special pleading involved in assuming canonical priority where parallels or influences are suspected also needs to be avoided if this literature is to receive a fair hearing. Indeed, perhaps it is time to demolish the obfuscating traditional and/or theological structures that make it so difficult to juxtapose, without prejudicing the results, discussions of such similar documents as Daniel, the Enochic Dream Visions, 4 Ezra, the Apocalypse of John and the Ascension of Isaiah (and Shepherd of Hermas?)! Nor should we shy away from exploring “new” groupings, such as the sort of “prophetic-hortatory” stream that seems to characterize a work like 5 Ezra as well as an Amos or Jeremiah—is it adequate simply to dismiss non-canonical examples as “derivative”? Moving beyond overt “canonical” parallels, the “Jewish” heritage(s) include works that focus on interpreting the external signs available in nature, whether in a Qumran context (e.g., “horoscopes,” and perhaps the Enochic Book of Heavenly Luminaries) or in medieval (?) calendric speculations (Treatise of Shem, Revelation of Ezra; see Brock’s review). What comes to be known as “hagiographa,” and similar developments of “martyrology,” have their representatives and echoes in the materials at hand. How do Jubilees, or Josephus, relate to “chronography” in the later sense as well as to other early attempts to periodize history? These and similar questions are easier to conceptualize in reaction to the editorial issues raised by the volumes under review. What, after all, is the point of selective categorization by type? A “trajectories” approach, whether applied primarily to material linked with certain ancient figures (as in Sparks) or also to certain categories of literature (as in Charlesworth), is best served by examining the largest practical sampling of eligible material. The opportunities for significant progress in understanding, at both the micro and the macro levels, are significantly increased as it becomes easier to examine apparently

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similar items more openly and efficiently. Of course, no one book or multi-volumed edition can do all this in a convenient format. The new availability, in (mostly) satisfactory new translations, of the sorts of literatures dealt with by Sparks and Charlesworth hopefully will serve to facilitate such avenues of approach. Perhaps this is the greatest overall benefit to be derived from the editorial shortcomings of those editions, that by failing to establish any clear and convincing rationale for the selection of documents collected, they help open the doors more widely to breaking down the remaining barriers that impede a truly new synthesis.

PART TWO

SELECTED SPECIFIC STUDIES

CHAPTER SIX

REASSESSING THE “RECENSIONAL PROBLEM” IN TESTAMENT OF ABRAHAM1 Study of the Testament of Abraham (TAbr) has proved especially difficult because of the complicated problems involved in assessing the relationship between the two radically different Greek forms (“recensions”) in which it has been preserved. Briefly, the relevant data currently available may be outlined as follows:2 1. Shorter Form (“Recension B”). Schmidt identifies three sub-groupings of Greek MSS, two of which (E-Slav and MSS ADC) go back at least to the 11th century (the date of their oldest extant representative) and the third to the 14th century (MSS BFG). Another sub-group is not known from Greek MSS but is preserved in the closely interrelated Coptic-Arabic-Ethiopic versions, and seems to be represented already by a fragmentary fifth-century Sahidic MS.3 There is also a Roumanian version containing an “abridged” short form, the oldest MS of which is from the 16th century.4

1

The original version appeared in G.W.E. Nickelsburg, ed., Studies on the Testament of Abraham (SBLSCS 6; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1976) 121–37—also available as an electronic resource from http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/rs/rak/pseudepig/TAbrRecensions.html or on the listserv of the IOUDAIOS Electronic Discussion Group. For more recent discussion of this material, see Dale C. Allison, Jr., Testament of Abraham (CEJL; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2003). 2 A new edition of the material had been promised by J. Smit Sibinga and F. Schmidt, but it has not yet appeared. Most of the following information comes from Schmidt’s 1971 dissertation: Francis Schmidt, “Le Testament d’Abraham: Introduction, édition de la recension courte, traduction et notes” (Thèse Strasbourg, 1971), which later appeared in published form as F. Schmidt, Le Testament grec d’Abraham: Introduction, edition critique des deux recensions grecques, traduction (TSAJ 11; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1986). For precise bibliographical information, see Nickelsburg, Studies on the Testament of Abraham (1976) 12. For more recent bibliography, see DiTommaso’s Bibliography. 3 M. Weber of the Institut für Altertumskunde at the University of Cologne planned to publish this material; see M. Philonenko, Le Testament de Job: Introduction, traduction et notes (Semitica 18; Paris: Adrien-Maisoneuve, 1968) 61 n. 1. 4 For a critical edition and translation of the Roumanian version, see Nicolae Roddy, The Roumanian Version of the Testament of Abraham: Text, Translation, and Cultural Context (SBLEJL 19; Atlanta: SBL, 2001).

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2. Longer Form (“Recension A”). Schmidt lists 18 Greek MSS of the longer form, the oldest of which is from the 13th century (MS E). There is, in addition, a Roumanian version of the longer form (its oldest MS is 18th century), which agrees closely with Greek MSS DLM (14th to 16th centuries). Some of the “longer form” MSS have relatively shorter texts (although there does not seem to be a family relationship among them) than others—e.g., K (16th century), N (17th century), O (18th century). Schmidt also notes the existence of 12 other Greek MSS (mostly 15th through 18th centuries) that had not yet been classified with precision in 1971.5 Thus the oldest preserved attestation is for the Coptic-Arabic-Ethiopic shorter form, which seems to have been in circulation already in fifth-century Egypt. Extant evidence for other shorter form [[122]] sub-groupings and for the longer form dates from much more recent times. Analysis of possible references to TAbr in ancient and medieval/byzantine lists and writings have not proved particularly helpful in establishing clear evidence for the earlier existence of TAbr in any of its known forms.6 The writing was relatively popular in byzantine Christian circles as material used in commemoration of the lives and/or deaths of the “holy fathers” (particularly Abraham, Isaac, Jacob) on the liturgical calendar. “Recension” Problems in Other Literature There is nothing particularly unique about the existence of differing “recensions” of the same material in the literature preserved by Christians throughout the byzantine/medieval period. A wide range of phenomena, from relatively simple textual variation within a rather closely related group of MSS (similar to that within NT MSS, including

5 For a brief treatment of both recensions, see Émile Turdeanu, “Le Testament d’Abraham en slave et en roumain,” Oxford Slavonic Papers 10 (n.s.) (ed. Robert Auty, J.L.I. Fennell and I.P. Foote; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977) 1–38. See also Émile Turdeanu, “Le Testament d’Abraham,” Apocryphes Slaves et Roumains (SVTP 5; Leiden: Brill, 1981) 201–18; E.P. Sanders, “Testament of Abraham,” OTP 1. 871–904; and F. Schmidt, Le Testament grec d’Abraham (1986). 6 Most of the evidence was discussed by M.R. James, The Testament of Abraham (TS 2.2; Cambridge: The University Press, 1892) 7–34. His desire to find that the extant TAbr was referred to by Origen was rejected immediately by reviewers such as Schürer and Weyman (see below, n. 15).

the “recensional problem” in testament of abraham 111 the “western text” problem in Luke-Acts!) to extremely divergent and complex situations (like the “synoptic problem” in NT) is well attested. With particular reference to writings with a strongly “Jewish” flavor, including Greek Jewish scriptures, the following examples may help to illustrate the extent of the problem: 1. Largely quantitative differences, with longer or shorter versions of what seems to be virtually the same base text—e.g., Job or Jeremiah in the Old Greek forms compared with Hexaplaric forms “corrected” towards the known Hebrew text; the two Greek forms of Tobit; the form of Testament of Job in MS V compared with that in S or P; the longer and shorter forms of Paraleipomena Jeremiou, and probably of Joseph and Aseneth; various forms of the Lives of the Prophets. On the whole, the difficult situation regarding Greek forms of Testament of Solomon also seems to fit here, at least according to its editor, McCown,7 and perhaps “Apocalypse of Moses”/Life of Adam and Eve as well. On the strictly Christian side of things, the longer and shorter versions of the Ignatian Corpus provide an excellent example of this phenomenon worked out in a relatively mechanical manner. [[123]] 2. Largely qualitative differences, with alternative ways of stating the same things and no clear reflection of a single Greek Vorlage behind the differing forms—e.g., in material that is translated from Semitic such as the Old Greek vs. Theodotion-Aquila-Symmachos (etc.) in general (and especially in Daniel) or the Old Greek vs. the Barberini version of Habakkuk 3 in Greek Jewish scriptures. Perhaps the relationship of Old Greek Ezra-Nehemiah to “1 Esdras” also fits best under this heading. 3. A combination of (1) and (2) with large-scale quantitative differences in versions of the same material that do not seem to share a common Greek base. Perhaps the two Greek forms of Esther illustrate this phenomenon (if indeed they represent different Greek base texts); at least in some passages, the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs also seem to fit into this category.

7

C.C. McCown, The Testament of Solomon (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1922) 32–8. See now Sarah Schwarz, “Building a Book of Spells: Textual Development and Social History in the Testament of Solomon” (PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 2005).

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chapter six Theories about the Relation of the Recensions in TAbr

TAbr is an excellent example of the third category. Although they tell basically the same story, the longer and shorter versions of TAbr have very little in common with regard to their vocabulary and syntax. And while the “longer” form frequently supplies materials not present in the “shorter,” the opposite sometimes occurs. This complex situation received much attention from M.R. James in his early edition of the text, and has been reexamined from various perspectives thereafter.8 James was ambivalent about the relationship of the different forms. “[Recension] A presents us with what is on the whole the fullest, clearest and most consistent narrative. Its language, however, has been to some extent medievalized. B is an abridgement whose language is on the whole more simple and original than that of A . . ., [but] it is not an abridgement made from A. [The Arabic (James did not have access to the Coptic and Ethiopic) represents] an independent abridgement, not made from either A or B, though as a rule more nearly related to B than to A. . . . It inserts matter not found in A or B, and is shorter than either” (p. 49). “B preserves the greatest proportion of the original language, A the greatest [[124]] proportion of the original story” (p. 51). James concludes that TAbr, as he tries to reconstruct it from the preserved witnesses, is “a very much mangled rechauffe” of an earlier, now lost (as of 1892) Apocalypse of Abraham,9 preserving “all the main features of the old book”—TAbr is a “popular” Christian work composed in second-century Egypt (incorporating some earlier legends) by a “Jewish Christian” (at least for the apocalyptic portion; p. 23) and received its present preserved form(s) “perhaps in the 9th or 10th century” (p. 29).10

8

For other surveys of the literature, see Schmidt’s dissertation (1971) 1.115–24, and Mathias Delcor, Le Testament d’Abraham: introduction, traduction du texte grec et commentaire de la recension greque longue suivi de la traduction des testaments d’Abraham, d’Isaac et de Jacob d’après les versions orientales (SVTP 2; Leiden: Brill, 1973) 24–8 and 77f. 9 The publication by Nathanael Bonwetsch of an old Church Slavic version of an Apocalypse of Abraham (Die Apokalypse Abrahams. Das Testament der vierzig Märtyrer [Studien zur Geschichte der Theologie und Kirche; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1897]) doubtless caused James to have second thoughts; see his relatively vague statements in Lost Apocrypha (1920) 17 [also online]. 10 The position of James is followed, on the whole, by W.A. Cragie in his introduction to the first English translation of TAbr in the supplementary volume to the “Ante-Nicene

the “recensional problem” in testament of abraham 113 There were immediate reactions and disagreements. Kohler and Ginzberg (see also Ehrhard)11 argued that TAbr was of Jewish origin, and Ginzberg implied that the differing Greek recensions were separate (and not very faithful) translations of a Hebrew original. Riessler also posited a Semitic original and preferred the shorter12 form (B) to the “christlich überarbeitet” [Christian reworked] longer form. Box continued the same general line of argument, speaking of a first-century Palestinian Hebrew original that was freely adapted into Greek in Egypt (Alexandria?) and must be reconstructed from both the longer and the shorter Greek forms (following James).13 A modification of [[125]] this approach is implied by Kohler’s 1923 description of TAbr as a Jewish “Alexandrian product of the first Christian century”—see more recently D. Flusser’s claim that TAbr was “composed by a Jew, writing in Greek, and was possibly based on a Hebrew (or Aramaic) original.”14 On the other side of the coin, some critics viewed TAbr as clearly a Christian composition (not “Jewish Christian” with James), and even dated it later than did James. Schürer pointed out that such legends and apocalyptic materials were composed by Christians for a long time, Weyman compared TAbr to post-Constantinian “Christian” writings from Asia Minor, and Weinel thought TAbr was “probably a very late Christian book.”15 These critics also agree that TAbr cannot be identified with the story told by Origen about the death of Abraham, as James attempted to do.

Library” series (American ed. = “Ante-Nicene Fathers,” vol. 10) in 1897 and also by J.-B. Frey in his article for the Dictionnaire de la Bible, suppl. 1 (1928) 33–8. 11 K. Kohler, “The pre-Talmudic Haggada II.C.—The Apocalypse of Abraham and its Kindred,” JQR 7 (1895) 581–606; L.Ginzberg, article in Jewish Encyclopedia 1 (1901) 93–6; A. Ehrhard, Die altchristliche Litteratur und ihre Erforschung von 1884-1900: vol. I, Erste Abteilung, Die vornicänische Litteratur (Freiburg im Br.: Herder, 1900) 184–85. See also J. Kaufmann (ed. M. Soloweitschick) in Encyc. Judaica 1 (1928) 564 and the unsigned article in the Universal Jewish Encyclopedia 1 (1939) 40. 12 Altjüdisches Schrifttum (1928) 1333. See also his longer article on “Das Testament Abrahams, ein jüdisches Apokryphon,” TQ 106 (1925) 3–22. 13 G.H. Box, The Testament of Abraham (London: SPCK, 1927) vii–xv and xxviiif. 14 Kohler, Heaven and Hell in Comparative Religion (New York: Macmillan, 1923) 77 and 80 (he does not specify what he thinks the original language was); Flusser in Encyclopaedia Judaica 1 (1971) 129. Flusser considers the longer “version” more original than the shorter but declines to propose a specific date of composition for the work. 15 E. Schürer, review of James in TLZ 18 (1893) 279–81; see also his Geschichte des jüdischen Volkes im Zeitalter Jesu Christi 3 (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 19094) 338f; C. Weyman, review of James in Byzantinische Zeitschrift 2 (1893) 642f; H. Weinel, “Die spätere christliche Apokalyptik” Eucharisterion 2 (Festschrift Gunkel; ed. H. Schmidt; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1923) 170–72.

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In more recent discussions, Turner has subjected the language and content of the two Greek forms of TAbr to close scrutiny and presents a suitably complex picture of the origins and relations of the two.16 He finds that B contains Greek material of very early date—perhaps as early as parts of Jewish Greek scriptures and the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs (203)—but that the preserved form of B dates from the late second or the third century, “from the same period, if not the same hand or school, as the original edition of the Testament of Solomon” (190). Since the A form does not seem to be derived directly from B, and yet seems secondary to B, Turner suggests that [[126]] Recension B . . . is a shortened form of an older text [of Egyptian, Jewish origin—see his ch. 5], and Recension A is dependent on this rather than on our present text [of B]. This is supported by the fact that occasionally the one recension is found to supplement the other, and that they make better sense when taken together (207). . . . Recension B is earlier and closer in form to any original Hebrew work [that may underlie the preserved materials]. Recension A was a later translation made either directly from the Hebrew, or else it is a recension of such a translation [i.e., of the older form of B? see above and Turner, 203]; it is not based on Recension B, as the language in parallel passages does not overlap (211).

Turner would date the A version “in its present form . . . after the fifth or sixth centuries. I do not think it is a Christian redaction” (217–18). Indeed, it may rest on a third-century edition of the longer form; any “Christian influence came after the separation of the recensions” (213). In his 1971 dissertation, Schmidt speaks with less hesitation about the relationship of the “recensions.” For him, TAbr is a product of “popular Essenism” (see Kohler in 1895), written (“probably”) in Hebrew in Palestine during the first half of the first century ce, then translated into the short Greek form before the beginning of the second century. The long form is a revision of the (Palestinian) short form, made in the Jewish Diaspora of lower Egypt in the opening years of the second 16 N. Turner, The Testament of Abraham: a Study of the Original Language, Place of Origin, Authorship, and Relevance (unpublished Univ. London Thesis, 1953). Some of his conclusions were summarized in his article “‘The Testament of Abraham’: Problems in Biblical Greek,” NTS 1 (1954/55) 219–23. The following discussion and quotations are drawn from a revised, shortened form of his dissertation, which he kindly supplied to the author in 1973.

the “recensional problem” in testament of abraham 115 century.17 Schmidt has modified his conclusions slightly with regard to relative dating in the article included in the Nickelsburg (1976) volume: The shorter form of TAbr is now dated to the second half of the first century (with the question of its original language left more open), and the longer form to the second or perhaps the beginning of the third century, with possibly an “intermediate form” (represented by the preserved Coptic) developing sometime in between.18 Nickelsburg’s 1972 study of one aspect of the TAbr material led him to radically different conclusions regarding the relation of the longer and shorter forms.19 He concluded that “Recension A is prior to Recension B” with respect to the judgment scene and the “one soul” material and thus called for a reassessment of the relation of the two forms (58). In his new contribution to the problem, prepared for the revised volume in which the present essay first appeared, Nickelsburg reaffirms his earlier position in words reflecting M.R. James’ conclusions cited above: The structure of Recension A is more primitive than that of Recension B, although the latter may contain some primitive elements and wording which were revised in Recension A (97). [[127]]

Delcor also discusses the “recensional” problem but comes to no firm conclusions. He sees both A and B as developments from a common “Greek original”20 of Jewish Therapeutic origin (73) composed around the turn of the era (76–7), and traces both to an Egyptian setting (78), although the respective forms differ widely from each other in outlook (14). The Main Issues and Types of Argument This is not the place to enter into a detailed evaluation of the various detailed arguments advanced over the years. It is helpful, however, to

17

Schmidt, “Le Testament d’Abraham” (1971) 118–21. See Francis Schmidt, “The Two Recensions of the Testament of Abraham: In Which Direction Did the Transformation Take Place?” Studies on the Testament of Abraham (ed. Nickelsburg, 1976) 76–80. 19 George W.E. Nickelsburg, “Eschatology in the Testament of Abraham: A Study of the Judgment Scene in the Two Recensions,” SCS 2 (1972) 180–227. In slightly revised form in Nickelsburg, Studies on the Testament of Abraham (1976) 23–64. 20 Delcor, Le Testament d’Abraham (1973) 6, see also 34. 18

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attempt to identify the sorts of arguments and issues on which the discussions have been based: 1. Language. On the whole, the commentators seem to agree that the Greek of the shorter form often has a more “primitive” flavor than that of the longer form, in relation to other preserved examples of Jewish and early Christian Greek. The language of form B also has more of a “Semitic” cast, although A is not lacking in Semiticistic passages or constructions. On the other hand, a relative preponderance of “later” words and constructions appear in A by comparison with B (see esp. Turner). 2. Coherence in Form and in Content. According to some commentators (e.g., James and Nickelsburg, as noted above), the preserved form(s) of A sometimes present a relatively coherent sequence and structure in sections that are more problematic in B. Occasionally a detail in B can best be explained in terms of what is found in A, which is taken as an indication that B is an abridgment of A. 3. Thought World. Schmidt attempts to argue that only the longer form contains characteristically “Egyptian” expressions and ideas, while both forms reflect “Palestinian-Essenic (-Iranian)” themes. Thus B is thought to represent an earlier development which came to be “Egyptianized” in the A form. “Recensions” and the “Original”: What Model to Use? Unfortunately, much of the discussion about the “recensional” problem in TAbr has not been sufficiently self-conscious about what is thought to constitute the “original” of TAbr and how the preserved materials are thought to relate to such an “original.” The possibilities are manifold, and any attempt to describe them in detail would be extremely complex. Questions about the interrelation of MSS exhibiting virtually the same narrow textual base (textual criticism proper) [[128]] often overlap and blend with questions about the relation between two or more larger textual units which have similar content but fairly divergent basic texts (often called different “recensions,” or versions or forms of a writing). Questions about originally independent smaller units of written or oral materials which may be added to a “recension” by its editor are closely related to problems regarding the use of such materials in the “original” composition of a writing that contains traditions of various sorts (e.g., legend, apocalypse, parenesis). Supportive evidence from the literatures of hellenistic-Roman and byzantine/medieval times is

the “recensional problem” in testament of abraham 117 available for a great number of possible models. An attempt is made below to outline some of the more obvious possibilities as they relate to previous discussions of TAbr. As will become apparent, individual aspects of some of the models are interchangeable. (1) Preserved Greek Original →

Preserved Greek Recension

(2) (Lost Gk Orig) →

Preserved Gk Rec #1 →

Preserved Gk Rec #2

(3) (Lost Gk Orig)